#before you get any ideas about taking it even further

[xomakara]

Be Mine [Part 1]

SUMMARY | You’re being stalked and getting creepy and filthy messages from someone named Unknown. Little did you know that person might be closer than you think.

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE |  smut, thriller, random fluff/comedy 

CONTENT/WARNINGS | stalking, creepy and filthy test messages, profanity, mentions of drinking, lots of sexual acts/thoughts, voyeurism, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), public sex, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, multiple orgasms

LENGTH |  14,264 words

TAGLIST |  @heechwe @lovetaroandtaemin

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

@othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety @dove-net

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Big, big, thank yous to @unholywriters, @kwanisms, and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this. I couldn't have edited this without your help! Big shoutout to @pars-ley for the beautiful banner! I appreciate you all so much! This is different from what I usually write (I know, I said that about a lot of other fics) but thriller is not my forte but I decided to delve into it. I hope you all like it and see you in part 2! 💚

He stood in the shadows, looking up into your window, for the fifth night. Your neighbors were out, their car idling in their driveway, leaving him unobserved. You, too, were unaware of his presence, busy getting fucked, face first in the sheets.

You looked oh so sweet, taking that cock. Taking it again and again while he rubbed his hand down the front of his jeans and wondered if you'd look this sweet taking his own. Your eyes glazed over in lust, face contorted into an expression that would have given any man cause to smile, you had no idea that he was right outside, staring into you.

Not that he planned on fucking you. Not anytime soon. He'd thought about it. Of course. Would you give yourself to him the way you were so easily giving yourself to another?

You had a type. Pretty college boys. Trust fund kids. Cocksure and full of themselves, despite the lack of worldly experience they actually had. Oh, he was handsome, tall and lean, but he wasn't a boy. No. He was a man, all man, and he would fuck you the way you needed to be fucked, the way your inexperienced lovers couldn't hope to.

His gaze never wavered as he pulled his length out from his pants, fisting his already throbbing cock to the sight of your soft skin covered in a sheen of perspiration. His feet scuffled further into the darkness to make certain no passers by were likely to happen along while his thumb grazed along the slit, sending a shock of pleasure up the shaft.

All the while, he thought about how hot and tight and wet your cunt would feel wrapped around his cock, bouncing on top of him, sliding him in and out of your snatch. Wondered what pretty sounds would pass those plump pink lips and if that beautiful gaze would glaze over just as pretty when he pumped his seed deep inside of you.

He watched as your young lover finished off before you had a chance to cum. Watch as he shrugs on his clothes, giving you a small kiss before leaving your apartment. Watch as you laid back in bed, fingers reaching for that favorite dildo of yours, your only companion these days.

A smug satisfaction washed through him as he saw you glancing into the dark corners of your room and through the curtainless window. Even in the dim light of the moon, he knew you didn't see him, your mind having no reason to think you needed to keep the bedroom windows covered, especially now with the tall apartment complex at the front of your building blocking your view.

So, instead, you leaned forward, giving the viewer, whether you knew you had one or not, an ample view as you slid your toy in and out of that warm pussy. So pretty and so sad to do this alone when you could have had a nice strong cock between your legs right at this very moment, replacing your poor toy.

As his balls grew tight and he blew his load, all over the front of the complex, the man promised himself he would visit you soon. Very, very soon.

"Yunho!"

"Oof!" Yunho grunted out as his friend threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and nearly strangling him in the process.

"Geeze, woman!" He grunted out as her petite body continued squeezing his neck, laughing and pulling him closer as she tried to squeeze the life out of him. "You act like you didn't just see me last week."

"Yeah but now you're part of the company!" You gushed happily, pulling back with a brilliant smile plastered across your face. "We have to celebrate. Drinks after work!"

"You think Hongjoong is going to agree to that?" Yunho questioned, though his smile was already spreading, enjoying the way you squealed excitedly and dragged him towards the office the rest of the way.

"Pfftttt. Like Hongjoong even does a lot of work here," you teased, bumping your shoulder lightly into his side before giving him a cheeky grin as you continued your stride into the office and pushed the door open.

"Someone's talking shit," a voice spoke up as soon as they entered the room.

Yunho tilted his head up, laughing as the older man pinned you with a fierce stare. "Don't pretend you don't deserve every word of it."

"Traitor," Hongjoong cursed with a laugh as he leaned his hip on the desk, arms crossing over his chest as he gave him his attention instead. "Thanks for agreeing to do this."

"Who am I to turn down an old friend," he replied honestly, and you quickly turned and bounced onto your feet.

"The real question," you started, sauntering over towards your boss, "is who's paying for the drinks."

Hongjoong cocked a brow at you, smirking as you danced from side to side before him. "I think you should buy drinks for the whole company. Since you seem so insistent."

Your face twisted into a look of mock horror. "Is the almighty Kim Hongjoong, owner, president, and CEO of ATZ Gaming, telling his most beautiful employee to empty her wallet?"

"I thought I was the most beautiful person here?" Another voice chimed in, Seonghwa stepping in, the second and most trusted employee of ATZ Gaming after Hongjoong.

"You are," you cooed at him, not batting an eyelash, "but I have to throw in some extra charm to get what I want."

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back against the wall next to Yunho, clasping his friend on the shoulder in greeting. "What is it you want, little liar?"

"Buy us drinks after work," you sassed, grinning brightly at both the men, turning on them. Seonghwa clucked his tongue and glanced over at Hongjoong. "Hey, don't ask him, I was the victim here," you pleaded, hands flailing out dramatically.

"Are we finally having a party?" Yeosang suddenly peeked his head up over the corner of his computer, hair mussed from his earlier activity. "I have some news that could definitely be celebrated with a drink."

"Yo! Yunho is finally here!" Wooyoung called out loudly from down the hall, legs carrying him faster as he waved excitedly. He looked quite fetching as he came around the bend, dress pants pulling tight over his toned muscles, light blue shirt fitted against his upper body. "Welcome to the madhouse!"

Hongjoong, unable to keep the charade anymore, laughed and clasped a hand on Yunho's shoulder. "When I asked all my friends to join me in this company I started, I did not imagine all of them would act like a bunch of kindergarteners, but what can I expect?"

"You love us!" San and Mingi announced in unison as the two rounded the corner.

Jongho followed shortly after, stretching his back as he joined the rest. "Tell us we don't have anything scheduled, please," Jongho spoke up as he settled into a comfortable seat.

"There was supposed to be a party planned for Yunho today but someone failed in their task."

You rolled your eyes, glaring at your boss. "The lovely Hongjoong hasn't agreed to pay yet."

The office of ATZ Gaming was full of the same individuals from middle school, the same ones he had grown up with and spent more time with than anyone else. Hongjoong was the owner of the company. An IT expert and coder. The man was a genius with all things electronic, and his vision was the game of the year right now. An RPG simulation video game that drew so many of its users that it was slowly creating an empire of its own.

You were hired as the lead writer. After high school and starting university, you'd immediately fluttered into a variety of career options that had suited your style. Advertising, commercial art, animation. Though you always ended up circling back around to game telling and concept art, so when you heard that Hongjoong had quit his job and was striking out on his own, you were one of the first calls he'd made.

When you began writing the storyline for Hongjoong's game, and word started going around how good it was, Seonghwa quickly joined forces, a PR rep in the works, followed by San, whose graphics were lovely, and Wooyoung, a known social media sensation and marketer. And the game was finally taking off.

Yeosang and Mingi came along as programmers after the two had spent nights working and perfecting a gaming system that had completely baffled even Hongjoong. And their reputation followed soon after.

Last, but not least, Jongho. Despite being the youngest of the crew, he'd been an IT prodigy that helped support and maintain their website as the company's traffic exploded, helping to launch their product and set them apart from the others.

Yunho, being the newest hire for their sales and marketing department, was familiar with all of their talents, and would be responsible for marketing their product with an enthusiastic eye that would be a strong addition to their group.

"Of course, I'm happy to take all you dorks out for a drink," Hongjoong pulled his attention, glancing over at everyone and holding a stern finger up. "After you all have finished the reports you were supposed to turn in."

"Boo!" You stuck your tongue out at your boss, huffing out your frustration as you trudged over towards your cubicle and dropped into the chair, head buried into the crook of your arms.

"Cheer up princess," Seonghwa laughed as he swiped up his report, moving over and handing the page over to you. "Have a glance over this before I turn it in."

You groaned louder, head shaking at him as he shrugged.

Yunho simply stood quietly off to the side, watching his friends go through the mundane tasks of their work, yet they all appeared so cheerful and energetic in this atmosphere, constantly teasing and cracking jokes. A wide smile spread across his lips. His fingers were twitching in anticipation of being able to do work for the company, already wanting the day to be over so he could go have that drink with his friends and have some fun.

After three long hours, you finally shuffled out of your chair, grabbing onto Seonghwa's elbow, leaning up against the elder and looking up at him with those huge doe eyes. "I'm hungry and my ass is sore, please tell me we are done for today and can have that drink."

Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong. "May the princess get drunk this fine Friday?"

You snorted, slapping his chest with a smirk as he grinned and pinched at the end of your cheek.

"Why not? It's Friday, and it will be an evening well spent," Hongjoong smirked, shutting his computer down and shrugging on his leather jacket. "Come on. My treat. As a welcome to the team, Yunho."

He sat in the corner of the bar, watching as you smiled up at your friends and playfully ran your fingers along the chest of an older man in a button-down shirt, the two of you whispering things back and forth. The group was a large one, a rowdy bunch that was currently taking up several tables off to the side. A good amount of them were handsome, all young and athletic. Different than your usual flavor of college boys and nerds.

He watched you and the man share a quiet joke. Watched as the male leaned in to whisper something against the shell of your ear, watched the pretty curve of your mouth part, giggle flitting free at the secret passing between you.

His stomach tightened, not because he was upset, or because he didn't like how he watched as your hand curled into the fabric at the male's waist and tugged at the expensive threads there, but because he imagined it was himself you were whispering to, him whose pants your fingers were digging into, him whose warmth you were stealing away with that pretty little smile.

What were you whispering about? What dirty, naughty little secrets were you whispering? Was it about getting fucked tonight? Hard and thorough. This man looked like he would satisfy you more than those little boys. This man didn't seem shy. Not with the way his hand brushed over your bottom, fingers cupping against the supple skin there for a moment before falling away.

When the hours passed, and the laughter began to dim, the group decided it was time to retire, and the group departed the establishment. He stayed behind. Making sure to keep close to the exit while also blending in. He watched as you and the man walked along the sidewalk, arm tucked under his, your soft giggle wafting in his ear when he bent low and whispered again.

He kept to the shadows as he followed, thankful that the night was cloudy and obscured his view, especially when you stopped walking and tipped your head back, gazing up into the handsome man's face, the two standing close, talking quietly as if they had forgotten the world around them. When the man leaned down and brushed his lips over yours, that's when he truly felt a twist in his stomach, a heavy, sickening roll.

His fists clenched into balls, unable to drag his eyes away from the sight. Your body stiffened at first, unsure, clearly the sudden motion took you by surprise, but when you leaned forward and melted against him, that was when his chest clenched.

When his hand came around your waist and he pulled you forward and dipped his hand down and grabbed the bottom of your ass, it was hard not to grit his teeth.

When the male shoved you against the brick wall of the nearby alley and dragged his lips down along the column of your neck, his eyes flared.

How far were you willing to take it in public? This would cause a scandal, wouldn't it?

Did that make you excited?

Did you want everyone in town to see, to watch, as he bent you over and fucked your little brains out? Or did you just want to get caught, the thrill of potentially being seen.

Did it matter?

As long as that cock got shoved inside of you, as long as the pretty moans escaped your parted lips, then who gave a fuck.

As your knees buckled, and you moaned out as the man's fingers curled under your skirt and sank into the soft flesh between your legs, his feet started to move. When the man hoisted you up and pressed you harder against the wall, and your arms and legs wrapped around him, the sounds of slick and wet mixing as the male's length entered you and pulled back out, his stride picked up speed.

Fuck, what he wouldn't give to have you in his arms, hot and wet and needy and letting him fuck you wherever and whenever the fuck he wanted.

When the male's movements picked up, body thrusting harder and faster between your spread legs, he watched the way you moaned louder and threw your head back against the wall, and he wished it were him taking you, ruining you.

You were enjoying it. Clearly. Enjoying that big dick sliding in and out. Enjoying that full feeling, letting the man claim you as his.

You looked like an absolute angel as he fucked you, a filthy fucking angel, hair tangled over your shoulders, the silk strands clinging to your cheeks as the sweat formed, skin glowing underneath the flickering streetlight overhead.

This man was ruining you. Just the way he would soon ruin you too.

How he longed to have that pink tongue swirl over his own, feel those tits press against his chest, his length snug and buried deep.

Soon.

Very soon.

When you cried out, your orgasm splashed all over his shaft, the male was right there behind you, his hips erratic, chasing after his own high. As he painted the inside of you, cum spilling and dripping down the sides of his dick as you clenched tightly to milk him for everything he had, the man pushed his hips harder against yours.

You had a completely satisfied expression, limp and tired as you came down from that intense moment, the passion that had overcome both of you leaving you entirely spent.

There was a sweet giggle as the man placed a kiss on your lips, a soft murmuring, another sweet peck to your lips, and the two of you stumbled away together, the man holding onto your waist, keeping your spent, stumbling body upright.

His feet had carried him forward when you disappeared, following the wet steps down the darkened alley. That was where he saw it, a pair of pale pink, soaked, cotton panties, hanging over a discarded can.

His hand shot forward and he gripped them, crushing the fabric between his palms and pulling it back with him.

Soon.

He would visit very, very soon.

Seonghwa made his way towards your desk, setting down a steaming cup of your favourite tea. "Okay, princess. Go home."

"I'm almost done with this report. Give me twenty minutes,” you replied, smashing the keyboard.

"Pfft. You said that four hours ago," he scolded, squatting down next to your desk so he was level with you. "Go home. Finish it tomorrow. Come into work late. Sleep in. Whatever will make the princess happy."

"Why is Y/N always getting the special treatment? Hyung, aren't I cute too?" Wooyoung sulked, tugging on his collar and pouting his plump lips. "Tell me you love me more."

"Back off, lover boy," you grumbled, sipping at the tea he'd brought over, moaning softly at the delicate flavor. "Hush and mind your own business."

Yunho laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder, a soothing motion, urging you to finish your work for the night. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get dinner, if you're down for that."

"I want Seonghwa's undivided love too!" San whined loudly, stepping around Jongho as he shoved his way past Wooyoung and Yeosang. "I want my cute hyung to baby me too."

Seonghwa quickly backed his way into the elevator before the crew ganged up on him.

"I have a date, so I gotta get going," he smiled, lifting his hand and  giving the boys a two-finger salute. "Y/N, have a good night! Everyone else, see you all tomorrow."

You turned to Yunho, a bright smile on your face. "That offer for dinner still on the table?"

"For you, always," Yunho smirked, leaning down and grabbing your purse, placing the strap around his wrist before pulling you into his side with a gentle tug. "How does pizza and a movie sound? You can go to mine, or we can go to yours, whatever works for you."

You didn't notice Wooyoung's raised eyebrow, the slightly quirked up lip as he observed the two of you. "Oh? Something going with you two that we should know about? You've been spending a lot of time together recently."

"Shh," you stuck your tongue out at the teasing male. "Jealous?"

"You're not my type," Wooyoung sassed back, wrapping his hands over the shoulders of Yeosang and Mingi. "You've never been my type."

"Sure, says the guy who had a crush on me in high school," you called out, shoving your keyboard back into place and shoving the papers on your desk aside. You swung your purse over your shoulder, hooking an arm through Yunho's.

"Hey, that was years ago, I've grown. I have better taste," the younger male started with a childish scoff, pulling the other two guys along towards the exit.

Yunho just stood and listened as you waved and stuck your tongue out at Wooyoung, yelling at the rest of your friends a goodnight. You were such an adorable, flirty brat with the others. His smile never waned. It was fun watching the interactions and teasing. His hand curled over yours, pulling you along next to him.

"Seriously, I can have food delivered to my place, or we can head to a drive-thru," he paused and shrugged his jacket off, dropping it over your shoulders, adding an extra layer for warmth. "Which will it be?"

Your fingers dug into the thick fabric as you peered up at him through your lashes, admiring the smile stretched wide and happy across those soft lips. You loved hanging out with Yunho. He was a nice escape from work, and outside the office, it felt more intimate. More personal. Like you were the ones having fun with each other, not work friends just playing around in the comfort of each other's presence.

"Oh my God," you squealed, tugging at his hand excitedly, "are you inviting me over?"

He snickered, pulling his jacket closed over your chest. "If you'd like. We could share a pizza, have some wine, listen to music..."

"Is this a date, Jeong Yunho? A date-date?" You puffed your cheeks at him. "Not as friends, right?"

His finger hooked under your chin as he leaned in, causing your eyes to flutter as you stared at the mischievous expression on his handsome face, unable to break away. His head cocked slightly. "And if I said yes? What would you do about it?"

A fierce blush warmed the tips of your ears and you pulled his jacket up further, trying to hide the excitement building, the giddiness bubbling up. You nodded, teeth biting into the meat of your lower lip. "Let's just say... I wouldn't mind if it was a date."

You pretended not to notice that he was still holding onto your hand as the two of you left, pretended not to hear the excitement in the sound of his laugh as he guided the two of you down the quiet sidewalk.

He could have anyone, so why did he pick you? Okay sure, you two knew each other and had been friends since middle school. And sure you had the biggest, fattest crush on him in high school and your feelings never went away, so... Why not?

You had your fair share of dating and sleeping around, a couple flings and things that lasted for a few months. It was easy to find dates and go on a variety of dates and sleep with attractive guys... yet they never scratched that itch. They always left something to be desired, and eventually, the shine would wear off and you'd both move on and that would be that.

It wasn’t that the guys weren't attractive, weren't charming, weren't funny, or weren't sweet. They just... Never clicked. You'd have sex with them, unsatisfying sex at that,  that made you walk around the rest of the day wondering 'is this it? Are these the types of guys I've been going for?'

Seonghwa was the closest to having something steady. It was sweet, comfortable. Until your spark just kinda... died? It wasn't anything either of you did. No drama. No cat fight or argument. It just naturally fizzled out and the two of you stepped back into your friendships, and when either of you got horny, the other person was always a phone call away.

But with Yunho? Well, that was a whole other animal. It was butterflies. Nerves and awkward laughter and racing hearts. You felt young and silly again. And you were positive you weren't the only one. The attraction was a mutual thing, which made it more thrilling. You didn't just imagine it, and the heat simmering and smoldering was equal between you.

He lived just outside the main district in a cute studio apartment over an art gallery. Your breath caught every time you saw his smile and his arm slung around your shoulder, keeping you close, that hand drifting back and forth along your arm, knuckles tickling at the flesh at your collar bone as he giggled.

"Home sweet home," he stated proudly as the two of you climbed the steps to his home and stepped inside, toeing his shoes off. "It’s tiny, but cozy and private."

As soon as you stepped into the door, you were in awe. It was exactly like Yunho - handsome and modest and masculine. A king-size bed with deep maroon sheets, dark curtains, and lots and lots of pillows. And his desk had several pictures in frames, displaying memories. There were tons of photographs, including lots of you and the guys from when you were kids and teens, to more current versions, the most recent from the company welcome party for him.

"Jesus," you breathed out in a rush, stumbling forward as your eyes continued to scan the space, landing on the long sofa that sat to the right and his kitchen which looked tiny, "wow, look at you, mister fancy pants. You really landed yourself on your feet."

"Ha!" Yunho cackled, hand clasping onto yours. "It's nothing like where you and the other's are living, but it's paid for and cozy. Let me order the pizza, then we can get comfortable."

"By comfy, do you mean cuddle up and watch a romantic drama?" you wiggled your eyebrows.

He hummed, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Will that make you feel good?"

"Are you offering to make me feel good? Orrrr..." you started.

He shook his head, a laugh gracing his lips. "The usual order?"

You gave a nod, stomach rumbling as if answering his question for you.

He smirked, snagging a pillow and tossing it next to the spot on the couch you would claim, waving his cell phone to remind you to wait patiently while he orders food for you. He vanished into the kitchen, a silly smile on his lips.

You wiggled out of his jacket and tucked the large pillow against you, hugging the warm clothing close to your body. If you closed your eyes, you could easily imagine him embracing you. His scent surrounded you, and you found that it helped calm your jumbled nerves, keeping that level head that usually evaded you whenever this tall, handsome giant was standing too close, looking at you with those intense, kind eyes.

Fuck. This was an actual date.

With Yunho.

A dream come true.

And just how were you supposed to handle yourself now?

Yunho had finally started paying you more attention lately, and sure, the group hung out a lot together, but this was a little bit different, right? It certainly felt more than friendship, and if you were reading his signals right, then the interest was there, especially tonight.

So then, maybe it was possible for the two of you to work. Maybe?

When Yunho finally rejoined you in the living area of his home, he held up two glasses and a bottle, a wide grin spread across his lips. "Drinks?"

He glanced around the area as the two of you chatted, laughing and making small talk while you waited on the pizzas. As the film played and the food was eaten, you relaxed into the sofa, cuddled up at his side, eyes locked on the screen. His fingers caressed the strands of your hair and rubbed a gentle path over your arm, touch drifting back and forth, but not far.

There was comfort, and you sighed. His affection was soft and steady. You relaxed against him, happy to finally have some alone time with him, just the two of you in your little bubble. His scent enveloped you, and his arms cradled you like you belonged here. 

"Can I ask you something? You can always refuse," you nodded, a curious gaze moving over to find him chewing on his lower lip and looking at the floor. "Okay. Well... Do you... Am I... Would it be too weird if I told you that I really like you? And not just as a friend?"

You took the moment to process this question, staring at him for a solid five seconds before you sat up. "Wait what?" you blinked in confusion.

"Oh god, nevermind! This is awkward now," he ran a hand through his hair and you tried not to laugh as his face turned a bit pink and looked away. "Just forget I ever asked."

"Hey, come back," your hands cupped his face and you turned him so you could look into his eyes again. You tilted your head up, lips brushing against his. "I like you too."

He didn't speak and just closed the distance. His lips moved against yours, slowly parting open, pressing firmly yet softly as you relaxed your mouth against his and let the pleasure of the feeling flow through you. Your hands ran along his face, into his hair, curling the soft strands around your fingertips.

The kiss is soft and gentle. Unhurried and eager, but not rushed. His arms tightened around your waist, and you moved in his lap, adjusting your legs on either side of his hips and seating yourself properly, so you were facing him and comfortably slotted in.

You nipped playfully at his plump lip and parted your mouth open, smiling against him.

"What's so funny?" Yunho asked, tilting his head at you curiously, tracing his finger along your cheek.

"It's not, I don't know, I was worried that there was an attraction here because I've liked you for ages but thought nothing would happen, but like..." your head dropped onto his shoulder and you stifled the nervous giggles against his throat. "This feels really good? I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that you like me too."

You couldn't help the grin from pulling at your lips and he chuckled.

"Don't you smile at me like that," you said with mock annoyance, pulling back and playfully hitting at his chest. "It's all your fault. You've grown up hotter and even better as the years passed. You're too tall. Too charming. Too sweet. Just everything, it makes my heart jump and I like you, so what now, you idiot?!"

His hands curled tighter around your waist, fingers digging into your shirt and he gazed down at you, a large smile plastered across his lips. "Let's start dating and take things as we go."

"I really like the sound of that," you smiled.

When you returned home that evening, Yunho walked you to your front door and lifted you into a tight hug, inhaling your scent and holding you close for a few more stolen moments. It was only a kiss goodnight; a sweet, passionate, deep kiss that set your skin aflame.

His smile had never been brighter, and you touched your fingers to your lips, feeling the burn of where his kiss still tingled, even though it’d long disappeared. "See you in the morning, okay? I'll meet you at the office. Don't be late."

You giggled, "Don't worry. I won't be."

Now there you were, home alone, wanting nothing more than for those hands to return to you. You sighed contentedly as you slipped the jacket off your body and placed it carefully on your dresser, smiling at the scent that fills the air and reminds you of Yunho. The evening had been perfect, everything just like a fairy tale came to life. You felt on top of the world.

But, like any other person, that peace and serenity would not last forever, not on your side, and especially not for the monsters watching your every move.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

That dinging startled your sleep, but your eyelashes fluttered as the vibrating continued and you groaned, knowing it must be something important. When your phone sounded a second time, the vibration caused a shudder on the surface of your dresser, you reached over and tapped the screen.

The text had your eyes going wide and your blood turning into ice in your veins.

Unknown: Looks like you had fun with your new boy toy. So cute. I wonder what will happen next time.

Unknown: You have a gorgeous smile.

Unknown: Be careful, little doll. Monsters are watching you.

You weren't surprised that Yunho was early the next morning. In fact, you were already seated in the break room, sipping a mug of terrible coffee, half asleep as you stared out of the glass wall, your eyes fixated on the downtown buildings a few blocks away, mind and gaze drifting about aimlessly.

Yunho poked his head through the door, finding your slumped form immediately, that stupid, shy smile coming onto his face. When he joined you at the table, his arms stretched out on either side of you and pulled you gently into his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder as he breathed against your cheek.

"How'd you sleep?" he questioned, a large palm rubbing soothing, firm circles on  your arm.

"I'm so sleepy I might die," you buried your head in his chest. You were not going to tell him about those weird texts or that you tossed and turned all night, eyes glued to the screen in case the person tried texting again. How could you tell him that? Or the others?

He chuckled. "Well, don't die quite yet," his nose nuzzled your hair and his lips brushed your earlobe in a playful nip. "I need my girlfriend around, y'know."

Your heart stuttered, heat and flooded your cheeks. His girlfriend... You liked the sound of that. You glance over his features and study his expression as it lingers for a moment before it drifts back to that smug smile.

"Girlfriend... I like the sound of that," you playfully pushed his arm, biting into your lip and trying not to swoon, his reaction had you floating on cloud nine. "And what would my boyfriend say about the coffee at work, huh?"

"I'll run to the shop in a few," he stated, "Whatever my girl likes."

"Oh God, I really love the sound of that," you nodded.

He stood up straight, pulling you out of the chair and giving you a quick squeeze. "Come with me to get your daily dose of liquid sugar. It's on me."

"Are you guys always going to be gross now?" Wooyoung questioned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart, as you walked past his cubicle, laced hands swinging.

You nodded. "Absolutely. I'll just be loud so everyone can know how much my man adores me."

"Did I hear 'man'?" Hongjoong questioned from his own office space, popping his head out to investigate what had caused your shriek. "Did Yunho finally make a move, because God knows we were about ready to stage an intervention."

"Please, everyone knows she's wanted Yunho since the seventh grade," Seonghwa chimed in, poking his head over his cubicle wall.

"Come on," Yunho laughed, pulling you along to the elevator, "I think we've done enough entertaining."

You flipped a rude gesture over your head as you walked. "Bite me. See if I ever get you guys coffee!"

"What!? I didn't say shit!" Jongho yelped from the back, clearly getting caught up in the shenanigans.

You stopped as the two of you waited outside, leaning up onto the balls of your feet and placing a chaste, sweet kiss against his lips. He hummed happily and melted into the feeling of your kiss. His smile was radiant when you parted ways. He quickly leaned down again, pecking the tip of your nose and before reaching out to grab your hand, keeping them tangled while you both crossed the street towards the closest coffee shop.

The two of you stayed for an hour, enjoying the cozy atmosphere, drinking more coffee and hot chocolate. You enjoyed the company, and you simply couldn't wipe the smile off your face as he watched you from the other side of the table. He seemed in his own blissful thoughts and for a moment, everything felt unreal.

The entire day was filled with giggles and stolen moments. You may have disappeared to his cubicle for a make-out session at lunch when the rest of your coworkers disappeared. He sent suggestive texts throughout the day, making sure you knew just how interested he was.

God, his kisses were fantastic, addictive, and oh-so wonderful, it made the ache between your legs even harder to control. All day, all you could focus on was him and that smile, or his handsome face. Or the feel of his skin as you moved to help him. The way he leaned and followed you around like a lost puppy, unable to take his eyes or his hands off of you, stealing those gentle little touches whenever he could get away with it. It was driving you crazy. You were high on hormones.

Fuck, what was it about the beginning of a new relationship that made you feel drunk, and hyper-sexual? All the excitement and anticipation of what could happen, the chance of being alone or maybe sneaking away for something even more private? You felt like an addict and your thirst would likely be unquenchable.

By the time dinner rolled around, and the crew decided to head to a bar on the waterfront for food and drinks, you were floating on air and Yunho was hugging his arms tight around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder like some protective shield, a happy smile stretched across those gorgeous, pink lips.

"Jesus, you two look disgustingly cute," San chirped up, fiddling with a menu, his elbow leaning on the table.

"Yeah, can you please refrain from being so adorable? We're still processing," Yeosang joined, rubbing his face.

"I'm serious, it's sickly sweet. My heart might just fucking implode," Mingi punctuated his sentence by shoving a fry into his mouth.

"Jealous, much?" You leaned forward, eyebrows raising in challenge as Mingi pouted.

"What I'm wondering is," Yunho held up a finger, waving it around the table and frowning, "who has a pool going. Who guessed that this would happen and who thought we'd make a slow, sluggish journey through hell before admitting our feelings? Someone placed bets. Fess up."

The men shared glances, but not a word was said until Mingi finally gave in and folded. "I mean, you two have been making googly eyes at each other forever, so..."

Hongjoong sighed, giving in to the truth and pulling his wallet from his pocket. "Seonghwa, Mingi, Yeosang, and I bet this would be sometime around high school. Wooyoung and San thought it would have happened by our college graduation. And Jongho was confident that you'd get together sometime this year. So, I guess he won the pool."

"I'm a rich man!" the youngest declared excitedly. "Finally, something goes my way, because those idiots are paying for drinks."

"Dicks. All of you," you piped in, unable to hide the smile and the shake of your head. Your coworkers and best friends were such assholes, and it was hard to remember sometimes. But, you loved them, and they've always had your back. You always had each other's backs.

The group ate and shared drinks for a solid three hours. Things got fuzzy after that, though. A lot fuzzier. Everyone was laughing and taking photos. At one point Wooyoung even shoved a fistful of fried calamari up San's nose, causing you both to screech and sputter from laughter, or the food. You couldn't tell anymore, it was all a happy blur.

When you went to the restroom, a text popped up on the screen. Unknown number. Unknown, again. That dark feeling began to build inside your belly and you took the phone with shaking hands into the stall.

Unknown: Thought I saw something cute.

Unknown: Have fun.

"Who the fuck are you?" you whispered. But of course, no one answered you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he moved his head down further. His tongue flicked a hot and wet trail between your breasts, tasting the salt from your sweat before moving further to the other pert nipple, rolling the nub with his thumb and licking until the buds tightened.

It didn't take much. You'd been starving for his touch all day long, a whole twenty-four hours spent teasing and trying to remain professional in the workplace, and tonight, all you wanted was his touch. You were laying sprawled on the soft sheets of his mattress, clothes haphazardly strewn around the living room and down the hall where the two of you had started stripping them as soon as the door was closed and locked.

Those long, gentle fingers brushed back the strands of hair from your forehead, soaking in your flushed cheeks and hooded eyes with a playful grin. "Feel good, little one?" he questioned with a low, rumbling growl.

The endearment sounded good falling from his lips and you hummed. "Very. Don't stop."

"So demanding," Yunho chuckled, his fingertips brushing over your ribs and side, giving you goosebumps as he trailed a slow path back and forth until his fingers found their way around your soft belly and down towards the lacey fabric of your underwear.

"Want these gone, or on?" his finger looped through a tiny ribbon-like strap.

You smiled, cheeky and without shame, raising your hips against him. "What would you prefer, hm?"

"Honestly?" Yunho dipped his face closer to yours, breathing a sigh into the sensitive area and making you shiver. "I want to stuff your mouth with these pretty little things while I fuck the breath from you."

"Fucking hell, Yunho, I didn't know you were so... so..."

He bit your neck. "Kinky? You'll soon find out how dirty I can be, especially when my sweet, sexy girl is being so good for me and begging so pretty."

"Shit," your breath caught. "Go right ahead."

"Let me know if you get uncomfortable. We can always stop. My main priority is that you enjoy yourself, okay?" His voice was soft and sweet and a complete contrast to the huskier tone he had only seconds prior. It was a side of him you'd never witnessed before. He was gentle, sweet, and made you feel secure, safe, and precious. "You'll always come first."

His big hands slipped your lace underwear past your hips, off over your knees and ankles, balling them in his hands.

"Open wide, little one," he growled softly, a thumb running along your lip as your mouth fell open, "just like a good girl." He slipped the fabric past your teeth, smiling at you, "Oh, there's a good girl. Looking so pretty, panties stuffed in her mouth like a pretty slut."

A finger slipped into your folds, testing your reaction and finding slick desire pooling around his digits. "Fuck, baby, you're soaking, is that all for me?"

"Mmhm..." you moaned.

"Spread those legs nice and wide. Yes, just like that. What a good girl, such a pretty angel. My beautiful babygirl," a second finger dipped inside your dripping core, scissoring and making room for a third. Your hips rose to meet his touch, whimpering as the three fingers stretched your cunt deliciously and touched all the right places inside. His long fingers filled you, but didn't fully satisfy.

"Look at the pretty slut dripping onto my bed sheets. So messy, my perfect little girl. Spread open like a hungry, naughty slut, her sweet little cunt sucking in the three fingers I've been gracious enough to stuff in that tiny, soaked hole. What a treat you are. Can you even last till the real thing?" He curled his fingers upward and a scream tore past the lace, tearing, but the moan from your throat was lewd and loud. "Is this what you imagined? In our cubicles? Bent over, getting fucked over and over until my seed dripped from this perfect little cunt. Oh, the dirty things I have planned for my pretty little angel. And don't you worry, I'm not anywhere near finished with you."

Yunho brought the slick fingers back to his mouth, wrapping his tongue over them, cleaning them with a lust-filled gaze and the roll of his hips. Fuck, he was ready to explode right there at the sight.

"Would my little one like to taste?" He pulled the panties from your mouth, replacing them with his soaked fingers, his thumb brushing against your lips, waiting for approval, and you sucked eagerly, your own tongue joining and savoring the taste.

"Now turn over, hands and knees for your boyfriend," you squealed a little, scrambling to turn around for him, positioning your ass and knees and knowing full well you must look quite the picture. "Fuck. Baby. You really want it, don't you? Need that cock, and fast, huh?" His thick, bare cock, aligned at your entrance, hot and pulsing. A whine rose, needy and hungry. "Talk to me, little one."

"Fuck," you gasped, gripping the sheets in desperation, his voice was thick and hungry and the words, holy hell, the words. "I want it! I want it so badly! I just... please."

"Please, what, little one?" Yunho stroked his length along your folds, coating his cock with the ample slickness leaking from your core. "What is my girl begging for?"

"Fuck me!" you shouted, pushing your hips towards him, "Fuck your girl, please. Please, I'll be good for you, whatever you want!"

"Good answer, baby, such a good girl," his palms grabbed your ass and slid along your thighs and ass, landing on your hips in a firm grip. The wide head of his thick shaft pressed slowly into your cunt. In and out. His breathing hitched with a grunt when you took him in halfway. "Fuck you feel so good, shit."

Big. He's so big, the biggest you ever took, and the best. He stretched you in the most delicious ways and took you exactly where you wanted it. None of your past fucks even held a candle to this man, and he didn't even fully fuck you yet.

"So big... so fucking big." It was a gasp, a moan, a desperate plea, a whispered prayer on your tongue. You needed that thick cock more than you've ever needed any other.

He bottomed out and you groaned at the sudden pressure. "Good?" His voice was a growl and he leaned into you, licking and biting the curve of your shoulder blade and down to the small of your back.

"Fuck, so good." Your words were slurred from lust and ecstasy. "Oh, yes, right there, fuck."

"My perfect girl takes dick so fucking pretty," Yunho purred. His big hands settled on your back, massaging gently. raises tumbled from his lips, soft, husky groans and soft hisses, deep groans. He moved again, so fucking thick and stretching you more, that when his hips thrusted in sharply, you saw stars, arching and shattering under the touch.

Yunho was the name that slipped past your lips in a frantic cry and then a steady moan. 

"I got you, baby," he mumbled against your back, "just let me have you. I'm right here, babygirl."

You turned to face him and found his intense gaze meeting yours. He leaned forward, pressing his lips roughly to yours. His chest flattened on your back as he drove forward harder, faster, and rougher, setting a fast, greedy, and almost desperate pace, wanting to hear and taste every piece of you.

"T-this. This is what I-I needed. This is perfect. Need you. Oh, God... Yes," you were struggling to get words out.

"That's what I like to hear, tell me more. Fucking pretty girl, I think your tight little cunt should be filled with my cum, so no one else will have you. Would you like that, would you want me to fill you until you're sore and gaping?" He drove even deeper, so fucking thick and hard. He grabbed your chin and tipped your head to watch the desperation that crossed his beautiful, sweat-slick features and the lustful sparkle in his eyes.

You whimpered. "Yessss. Cum for me."

"Then watch the show, baby, gonna make that perfect pussy of yours gape and swallow every bit of me. You'll do that, won't you? Be good for me and keep it all warm and plugged up? Just for me," his thrusts turned sharp and erratic, bouncing your body along the mattress. You nodded, still feeling his palm gripping your jaw. The wet sounds were so loud in the otherwise silent room.

"Fuck, Yunho," your hands gripped onto his wrists, the muscles tensing and straining, working your core with everything he had. "Yes, keep going. Don't you fucking stop. I need it. Oh God, please don't stop."

"I'm right here, little one," Yunho groaned, voice tight and gravelly, his pelvis rocking and bucking, his breath shaking as he pressed closer. His face burrowed between the nape of your neck, his voice low and thick. "Gonna cum now, gonna fucking cum, gonna make a mess in that pretty little cunt. Going to paint you white, my pretty girl."

"Do it," the words came out as a whimper, "Wanna feel you."

Yunho let out a rough and broken growl.

His cum shot out in heavy ropes that coated your insides and slid past your opening, coating you both with an extra slickness. His hand lands over your mound, massaging and keeping a steady flow of pressure until finally, when his last release hit the deepest spot inside you, you saw that white-hot glow in the back of your eyes.

You broke. His name came out on the edge of a sob.

The world turned and spun. He lifted and cradled you against his chest. Pressing warm lips over your pulse and humming when you tucked your face into the hollow of his neck, spent, exhausted, and drifting into the fuzzy nothingness, he whispered tender words in your ear.

"It's okay," he shushed, a warm palm rubbing circles in the middle of your back, "Don't fall asleep on me yet, let's get you clean." He helped you rise and then ushered you to the bathroom. Once inside, he wrapped those massive arms around you again, pulling you back against his chest. "Doing alright, beautiful?"

"Perfect," you whispered.

His grip loosened a bit and his lips grazed against the back of your shoulder and a quiet huff followed. "You did wonderfully, little one." A hum was all that followed his praise. You were far too tired for anything else.

You barely remembered washing up and drying off. You had no clue how the two of you ended up snuggled, legs tangled up. Your head laid on his chest, while his large hand laid on your cheek, rubbing light circles and playing with your hair.

"Yunho," you whispered.

"Hm?"

"Kiss me again," and he did, bringing those soft, puffy lips to yours in a kiss that is no different, gentle, tender, slow, sweet, and exploratory, despite being together intimately already, you both craved that innocent sweetness and the reassurance it would bring.

"How are you doing? Was I too much, too soon?" Yunho asked quietly.

"Never," you scoffed, smacking his chest, "that was fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well, I aim to please," the grin in his tone was evident and infectious.

Snuggled in his arms, warm and protected, it didn't take long before the both of you were softly snoring away, peaceful and perfectly content. You didn't even see the notification on your phone as the little bubbles popped onto the screen.

Unknown: I bet his cock felt good buried inside that sweet, tight, little cunt. It looks lovely, all stretched and leaking.

Unknown: Sleep tight.

You drifted, blissfully unaware.

"A camping trip?" Your eyebrows creased, and your cheeks felt as though a blush rose at the thought.

"Hongjoong thinks it's a great opportunity for some relaxation and bonding after everything, what do you think?" Seonghwa sipped at his coffee as Yunho circled his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You guys can share a tent and put it far away from us."

"Like far away from us, far away. I mean it," Hongjoong motioned across the span of the field with wild and sweeping hand movements. "I don't need to hear shit, and especially don't need Wooyoung running his motor mouth."

"Bite me," the loud-mouth in question screamed, waving an arm into the air in retaliation.

"And, there's no pressure. If you don't want to, that's perfectly alright," Seonghwa shrugged, but his words weren't nearly convincing.

Yunho smiled. "No, we're totally in. As long as everyone promises not to come within like five miles of our tent in the middle of the night."

"Done deal," Hongjoong immediately stated.

Wooyoung snickered. "Maybe Y/N's loud moans would scare away the bears."

You scowled. "Would they scare the tiny gremlin boy, because, in that case, I'll happily be very loud."

The young male stood up, moving a finger back and forth between the two of you. "Watch your back, Y/N. I might just throw you in the lake while you're sleeping and make it look like an accident. This is war!" He stomped off dramatically towards his desk, pretending to throw a fit.

"Why is he so dramatic? Can we leave him at the camping grounds and pretend to forget him?" Jongho quipped dryly.

The camping trip did sound like fun, especially being able to enjoy it in a small group setting, and without worrying about running into unfamiliar faces, that dark presence that seemed to follow you, stalking and haunting, might stay away. A perfect solution.

The rest of the workday passed in relative normalcy, and before the hour struck five, you had left with Yunho by your side and plans of going shopping were set in motion.

"It's been such a long time since I last went camping," Yunho chattered, skipping around in front of you and leading the way into the sporting goods section, "think they have soundproof tents? Just in case? For when I get super frisky and fuck the breath out of my sexy girlfriend?"

"Jesus christ, Yunho, calm your jets," you laughed, patting his cheeks, "I doubt there's such a thing but maybe we can get lots of pillows to stuff in the corners and walls."

"Perfect," Yunho grins and kisses your palm.

The next two hours flew by, filled with tossing things in the shopping cart, giggles, and teasing. After you managed to find an assortment of things you might need and settled on what looked to be a sturdy tent, Yunho paid. Before heading home to drop off everything, the pair of you went clothes shopping, after deciding that the proper attire included comfortable pajamas, enough clothing to last, and in your case a nice bathing suit to lounge in the lake.

And when Yunho wasn't looking, you grabbed something that was a little... naughty for your favorite kinky giant.

After loading the car with camping and fishing equipment, gear, supplies, a few tents, and a cooler loaded with drinks and snacks, a text came in from the groupchat.

Seonghwa: Load everything into your trucks, we leave tomorrow at 8 am.

Wooyoung: My Jeep will go fast, Jongho doesn't hold back on the gas pedal!

Jongho: You don't drive me. Ever.

Hongjoong: WEAR SEATBELTS!

You: Yes, Joong dad.

Yunho: LOL

Mingi: Dad. Priceless.

Yeosang: He does remind me of an anxious dad.

San: Cannot agree more.

Hongjoong: ....

Yunho: She called him "Joong Dad," isn't that just perfect, Hwa?

Seonghwa: I'm gonna start a drinking game. Take a shot every time you call Joong, "Joong Dad."

Jongho: Count me the fuck in.

"Hmph," you huffed, scrolling through your notifications and catching another. Same number, unknown again. You blinked twice, then opened the message.

Unknown: So sweet, picking up supplies for your boyfriend. And did you have some naughty plans too? Good, so did I.

"Baby, ready to go home and have dinner?" Yunho pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your forehead.

Your head snapped up and your gaze met his, blinking at him. His wide smile met you and your own slowly stretched to match it.

"Ready," you said, feeling sick at the new unknown message.

He watched as you slid your clothes off after a long day and tossed them aside. His hungry eyes trailing over the curve of your soft belly, then your wide hips, then down the round curve of your ass. His gaze lingered on the lacy set of panties you'd picked up the night prior.

So tiny. They don't cover nearly enough of that amazing ass.

His dick twitched in his pants as his tongue darted out and swiped across his plump lips. Laying there, on your belly, not aware of the dark shadow lingering right outside your window, looking on as your soft cheeks and round globes jiggled at every movement, the arousal tinted his stare. His heartbeat sounded rapidly and the blood began flowing directly towards the aching part between his legs.

Slowly, carefully, silently, he tugged the zipper down and pushed the fly of his jeans to the side to wrap his fingers around his swollen cock. A soft groan caught in the back of his throat when he tightened his grip and pumped his length along the underside. Watching as you pulled out that favorite toy of yours since your boyfriend wasn't there.

Oh, was he so jealous right then of that lifeless toy, the silicone dick that slid in and out of your pussy, soaking in the wetness and preparing that greedy pussy for a cock of actual flesh and blood. His mouth watered as the silicone phallus sunk deeper into you. His fingers continued to run along his thick girth and grip the sensitive tip, slicked up with precum, spreading it down and adding friction to his movements. His gaze fixated on that damn vibrator. The thought of bending you over crossed his mind, but then decided that he wanted the pleasure of making you cum on his cock. Wanted the sounds of your cries muffled, wanted you to break into pieces at his hand and only his cock, his cock and nobody else's.

"Fuck yeah, just like that. Grab your tit and play with it like a good, little slut. Such a pretty pussy and ass. Bet my cock would slide in and out real fucking nicely if I bend you over the bed and slam in that wet hole until I fucking paint your insides and mark that tight, hot, soaked cunt." Pumping his length and gripping the swollen tip, he bit back the whimpers and the grunts, so desperately wanting to call out.

"Just a little longer," he groaned, his head tipped back, fighting to keep the volume low, "Gonna make you feel me and make you mine. Soon, baby, I'll make that cunt remember the shape of my dick, stretch you and split you open with my fat cock, make you suckle and worship my cock every chance I get, make you full with me."

"Yeah, babygirl. Gonna stuff your pussy and then plug the cum inside. Fuck. Cum all over that face, that pretty ass and tits." He groaned out.

"Shit," his cock pulsated and throbbed, aching and about to release, "nah, gotta wait."

Stopping his self-love session, he focused his attention back to the show, knowing that with this intensity, with every passing second he got closer and closer to the moment when he'll get the chance to bury himself inside your wet warmth and the deepest, darkest spots. You were always meant to be his, always belonged to him.

Because if he can't have you, no else ever will.

Pulling into the camping lot, the first sight of the trees had Yunho's face lighting up, and you swore that when he looked like that, his cheeks scrunched adorably and his smile a million watts, you had no control over yourself. Every part of him was absolutely precious. Your stomach flipped, and those pesky little butterflies fluttered around and around inside.

Parking alongside the line of trucks and smaller SUV's, everyone scrambled out. A collective yawning, stretching, and murmurs of agreement came in the form of mumbles.

"Gorgeous place, huh?" Jongho raised his hands up above his head, pointing towards the distant view, "Good day for hiking."

"Let's get some tents set up and then explore," Hongjoong murmured.

They set up the tents, arranging supplies and cots. They were in a rush to explore, not that you could blame them. You slipped on shorts and a t-shirt, running up after them, tugging Yunho to come with.

But with him in his element and nature all around, there were things that caught his interest, things that the group explored as they walked through the camping grounds.

"We should try to find a spot not so far into the woods," Yunho's voice pulled your focus and you turned around, meeting the warmth in his eyes. He stepped closer, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. "Sounds good, babe?"

Your eyebrow rose and an inquisitive hum echoed. "Whatever do you mean, honeybun?"

"Welllll," he leaned over, pecking a soft, fleeting kiss on your nose, "we can sit out by the trees, by the lake, watch the sunset..."

You blushed, suddenly knowing exactly where his words were headed. "I think I understand," you grinned. "We packed the earplugs for everyone, right?"

He smirked, cockily, pulling your face closer until his warm breath caressed your lips and teased a response from them, "Sounds like someone is thinking of getting busy?"

"Always," you answered, letting him press his lips to yours.

"Don't worry," his chest shook and his smile lit up the sky, "we have extra earplugs."

"Hurry up, lovebirds!" Seonghwa's shrill screech called.

A light giggle burst forth. "Ready to see the beautiful spot and pick out the perfect tree for our sinful deeds?"

"Too much!" You heard Hongjoong grumbling.

Yunho laughed, breaking free and sprinting, arms lifted in the air, towards Seonghwa, all smiles and eyes closed and sparkling, a few stray wisps of hair falling out and flying through the wind. He turned around, a hand held out to you. "You coming?"

And you ran, meeting his extended palm, lacing your fingers through his, and feeling warmth radiating from him, the bright shine and joy radiating from the man in front of you, loving him all the more, feeling happiness wash over you, too. He brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed you, a small gesture, but a tender one.

"Hey, now," Hongjoong snorted, walking back over towards you, "keep it PG."

The glare the younger man gave off only caused him to chuckle harder, doubling over in mirth, loud and boisterous, bouncing back from tree to tree.

"Okay," Yunho huffed, arms circling around your back and ushering you forward, "back to the serious business of finding a spot for this lecherous act that Hongjoong believes we have planned."

The snickers from your party began in waves and soon, you were swept up in the infectious fun, laughter surrounding and spilling out and echoing. Yunho pulled you further along, playfully, all lighthearted jests.

Hours later, sitting around the campfire and listening to a guitar, the melancholy strums filled the evening, and the stars sparkled overhead. Snuggled next to Yunho and singing along, you watched the fire flickering.

"What if," San suddenly jumped in and tapped a finger against Mingi's shoulder, "what if we played a game of truth or dare, like we did in high school?"

"No," Hongjoong was quick to shoot down the idea.

"Pleaseeeeeee," Wooyoung's puppy-eyes begged.

Yeosang sighed. "Oh, come on hyung, give in."

"And if they get truth or dare?" Hongjoong points at you and Yunho, "who knows what we'll get subjected to!"

Seonghwa grimaced. "True."

"Pleaseeeee?" Wooyoung cried. "Pretty, pretty pleaseeee?"

"Alright," Hongjoong gave in, a sign of Seonghwa and Hongjoong's long, suffering, and excruciating tale of their school experience. It had to do with those same puppy eyes, specifically, Wooyoung. "But the moment the lovebirds get frisky, I'm shutting it down."

You gave him the most angelic smile. "Roger that, Joong Dad!"

"And so the night continues..." Hongjoong groaned into his hands, elbows propped against his thighs and head tipping into his palms, "why do I enable this nonsense?"

And so the night progressed. Dares were made. Wooyoung sent San to a dark scary area, where the sounds of something like footsteps could be heard. The culprit? Jongho, shuffling his shoes quietly back and forth in the grass. Yeosang ran out to the water and ran around screaming, waving his arms like a mad man, only to do it again - per request from Mingi. Truths were told about silly childhood memories, the most embarrassing moments, the greatest fears, and a few love stories and regrets were spilled, as well.

Sleep eventually took hold of everyone, exhausted from the trip, the music, the singing, and the laughter. Slowly, one by one, each member retreated into their tents. You and Yunho followed, going hand and hand, holding hands. The night seemed to last forever with so much time, a perfect ending to a perfect day.

As soon as you had crawled under the thin sheet and blankets, Yunho pulled you close. He curled a palm around your hip and used the other to lay the crook of your neck onto his chest. You glanced up, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw and looking at the soft expression across his features, so beautiful, so gorgeous, like a dream that never faded.

And then you drifted off.

He watched you slept through the night, unable to take his gaze away. You didn't zip the tent all the way, it hung just loosely enough to where he could easily spy inside, a mistake on your part and he was completely taking advantage of it. The slow steady rise and fall of your chest as your breaths moved through you, a quiet exhale, your plump, perfect lips curling softly, he couldn't look away, couldn't stop staring at you. His fingers dug into his palm, leaving nail indents into the soft flesh.

How he wanted to caress and trail a gentle touch, feather soft, over that delicate skin, to have your heat spread and pulse beneath his palm. It's an agony he wanted to bury himself in, this perfect image of you asleep, so very delicate and tender.

And when his gaze followed the soft curves of your face, his cock is swelling and throbbing. He swallowed hard, imagining those pouty lips wrapped around the girthy, sensitive cock as his fingers wrapped in your hair and he fucked your face and mouth roughly, spilling himself over and over again until you were gagging and struggling for breath.

His tongue glided between his lips, his dick hardening even more from the lewd thoughts of what he could do to you. All the ways, places, angles, things. So, many things he would be doing. And by the end, you'll be addicted to the feeling of him.

Soft snores sounded through the clearing. Then a snort. And a muffled curse. A bark of laughter.

"Jongho! Keep it down." One of the men snarled from his tent. "Fuckin' christ."

And another zipped open and Mingi and Seonghwa stepped out.

"Let's walk around, get some fresh air," Seonghwa whispers as Mingi nods.

His head whipped around the area, knowing the area's layout, having the chance to scope out the place just recently. So, with the dark cover of night and the absence of those who were awake, he stepped back. It was time for him to disappear back to where he was hiding in wait. For as long as he needed to, he would remain waiting, still.

Stalking quietly, his large feet tiptoed out through the darkness and back into the shadows, as he'd always done.

Biding his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself.

Patience.

Days after the camping trip, you were at Yunho's place, waiting for him to get home and you sat on his couch, phone clutched in hand, your attention on the string of texts that appeared earlier. Your jaw clenched, eyeing the words, that unsettling feeling returning.

Unknown: Fun camping trip. Tell me, Y/N, which were your favorite moments? I especially loved when you and your boyfriend fucked each other with the tent flap open while the others were sleeping.

You blinked, suddenly a stone lodged in your throat. You could almost taste the sourness seeping through the text message. The fact that the stranger was lurking, following the group's movement and possibly tailing, was not lost to you.

Unknown: Would you have loved it just a little more if I were the one fucking your tight little cunt and you moaning my name, my big cock sinking into those silky wet walls, my hot cum filling you?

There wasn't a text for a couple of minutes, and then more came.

Unknown: Just let me try and guess, baby. How your soft, tight walls would constrict me, would massage and caress my throbbing cock. How my big dick would feel deep inside, opening you up, stretching that greedy hole, making a mess. I know you like a messy pussy. Would you beg me to cum inside you, fuck that juicy pussy hard and fast, mark your insides with my cum and fill your womb until you were full of me?

Unknown: Your mouth is even better. Can just imagine wrapping my fingers into your hair, that gorgeous face pressed against my balls. Sliding the fat tip between those pouty lips while you lick up the length, suckling on the underside of the thick, veiny shaft. I would make sure that you had trouble speaking the next day, sweetheart, from how hard I would be pounding and slamming the back of your throat, having my cock stuffed down your throat until you can only choke. Fuck, baby, gonna breed your holes until you cant ever take anyone else.

Unknown: What can I do to make you mine, babygirl?

You nearly vomited at those last words, crinkling your nose and screwing your eyelids shut to stop reading them.

But then another came.

Unknown: Be ready soon for my cock and cum, darling. It's going to feel so fucking good.

When the key in the door alerted you, your attention shot upwards and you shoved the phone in the side pocket of your bag and met Yunho's dazzling, gleaming smile and gentle gaze. It seemed like your troubles melted, worries forgotten.

"Did you wait long? Sorry I'm late." His wide, bright smile crinkled his eyes in the most precious way as he spoke, tossing the keys aside and toeing the shoes off and kicking them to the side.

Before you could get up, Yunho had plopped himself next to you, kissing you deeply, softly. His long arm curled around your shoulder, pulling you into his broad chest and nuzzling your cheek, and you grinned uncontrollably.

You pressed the palms of your hand flat to his chest, peeling off and leaning back, giving him a sweet smile, then curled both arms around him and laid the top half of your torso against the side of his arm and placed your cheek on the bone. "Did you have dinner already, baby?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Wanted to wait."

He laughed softly. "For me to come back?"

"Uhuh," you nodded.

"Then," his chest vibrated, and a soft purr thrummed. The rumbling, content and happy and low, is warm. "Let's get up, baby, and head to the kitchen. We'll cook together. Then watch a movie in bed. How does that sound?"

"Do I get dessert later?" You nibbled on his arm.

His deep chuckle responded. "I think a lot can be arranged. C'mon," and he stood, hands at your waist and pulling you up with him. "Let's get cooking and eating, and I'll save that for after."

Your heartbeat and stomach were swarming with the familiar butterflies. Even now, being around Yunho was a sensation. And not even that, not only that, but with those new, strange threatening and ominous text messages that crept up. For a moment, you pushed it aside. Allowed yourself to drift into the moment, wanting so badly to spend more time with Yunho.

After dinner, he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed lightly before leading you to bed. You buried your face into his shoulder, mumbling a faint sleepy sentence or two, not quite making out the exact words.

"And, dessert?" You raised an eyebrow, puckering your lips slightly and gesturing towards him.

He smirked, lifting you and throwing your legs around his waist, strong hands firmly holding your plump ass. Then the familiar sensation of being placed, ever so gently and delicately on the bed. With soft touches, hands roaming and sliding under the fabric, clothes were quickly stripped off.

"Can I have my dessert now? Pleaseeeeeee?" you asked, batting your long lashes and feigning a childish expression.

"Go ahead," he laughed as he leaned against the headboard and patted his lap, spreading his powerful legs wider to show his straining erection. "You were talking about this kind of dessert, right?"

"You read my mind, babe," you said, a teasing wink as you slid towards the middle of the bed and between his thighs.

A low grunt passed his parted lips and a heated stare was sent in your direction. You reached out, wrapping the palm and fingers around his thick cock, the veins pulsating against your skin, throbbing and eager. Leaning forward and licking the swollen head, the little bead of precum leaked out of the tip. Sliding the flattened tongue over the slit, your fingers working up and down and around the width, circling up to the sensitive head, feeling the heat and his eager pulse thrumming as it got harder.

"Shit," a sharp intake of breath. His head tipped to the back, and his teeth sunk into the lower lip, biting back the needy whimper.

Taking the fat tip in and hollowing your cheeks, sliding deeper, letting it hit the back of your throat, feeling it sink further and further in as his fingers cradled the nape of your neck. Your nails skimmed his thigh, catching onto the coarse hair before teasing the hot and velvety hardness, causing the flesh to throb between your lips and around his member, moaning from the taste and scent of the cock, swallowing around the heavy weight, causing the vibrations to send a shot of electricity.

His head thrown back, breathless gasps filled the silence of the room and hands caressed your hair. His hips bucked, slowly and carefully, as though afraid of pushing your limits too far. Your throat tightened around the swollen shaft, drool leaking out the corner of your mouth. Eyes wide, half-lidded and gazing up at him. His cock twitched in your mouth and he made the most sinful sound.

"I'm going to fill your mouth, darling. I want you to swallow it and everything that spills out, make sure to drink every last drop. It's your dessert, after all, right?"

Humming lowly, mouth still full, nodding faintly, a confirmation.

A hand lifted to the back of your head. Slowly, he caressed the soft strands, running his fingers through the locks, caressing the strands. Light scratches, soft and loving against your scalp.

And his body shook hips rocking up, in and out of your mouth, picking up a rhythm. "Swallow it, sweetheart. Drink up."

The warm cum spurted into your mouth as a throaty groan fell, a lustful gaze locked to yours, staring. Those warm, gorgeous, honey brown eyes were full of awe and love as you swallowed and licked every single drop that spilled. You squeezed and swallowed, tightly sucking, eager and willing and sucking him off, desperate and eager and swallowing again.

His thumb grazed your skin, tipping his thumb against the corner of your lips to brush away any semen leftover.

You sucked up every bit, licking the warm and soft tip, letting the fat head roll around on your tongue and using the tip to sweep away the last traces of salty seed. Sucking on the cock until nothing remained.

Leaning back, you watched the reaction, waiting to hear the praise, your boyfriend's blissed out expression. A smile bloomed, a pleased hum passed your lips as he reached out, grasping at your shoulders and tugging you to meet his gaze. "Did you enjoy your dessert? Did you have enough?" He laughed. "No? Guess I have to feed you more."

With ease, he flipped your pliant and small body, your back on the mattress. Pressing his cock along your entrance. Sinking the fat cock into you, taking his time, the wet sounds and hot walls clenching his dick. "My baby needs to be full and satisfied, right?" A breathless moan. The pure, lecherous tone of his voice sent heat into your cunt, pussy throbbing, the slick building up. He pushed the length slowly in, relishing the stretch as your walls hugged and swallowed him. He throbbed against you and pressed forward, cock reaching and sending sparks up and through, tearing apart all inhibition and breaking down that delicate restraint.

He fucked and rutted, thrusting, bucking, and moaning into your quivering, hot cunt.

You were already melting, and the lust only grew more intense, like a burning flame, as the sloppy and wet noises echoed around in the room, loud smacks filling the empty space.

The way his large, strong hands moved to your thighs, urging them to wrap around your waist. Using that to angle deeper, driving himself harder. Until his big cock is sinking into you. Overwhelming you completely as he fucked into your warm, welcoming cunt. He moved his hips faster and rougher, panting and desperately trying to catch his breath. His nails raked into your hips and dragged across your skin, leaving his claim. The noises and smells were all consuming, skin flushed and bruised, red splotchy marks coating your hips.

He felt so fucking good, slamming that girth deep inside you, hitting your spot and pounding it until you were trembling and moaning, almosting screaming, his name. Your body collapsed, turning and face-planting into the sheets as Yunho’s fingers kneaded and spread your cheeks wider. He grunted, eyes blown wide.

And he fucked you more.

"More?" You breathed heavily as his dick, grinding, the bulge filling and pressing along, pressing and touching your spot, teasing it. So big. He was too much, and it felt so incredible. His tip and heavy cock and balls and long shaft were brushing and smothering and his hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your body, everywhere.

"Take it, darling. You feel so good. So soft and good. Fucking amazing." The strain in his voice could be heard. But, god, it wasn’t just how incredible he felt, but his low, husky groans and gasps were taking over your ears. "You love this, baby, don't you? My huge cock fucking and thrusting and feeling good inside you, isn't that right? Can't you feel it?"

The air was suddenly hot, sticky and heavy. Everything felt heightened. He moaned as he kept fucking you, murmurs falling from his lips, his breathing rough as he stared down.

"Yunho, please. Cum in me. Cum, please. Feels so fucking good. Baby," you could barely breathe as his thick shaft shoved, harsh, hitting so deep. Your fingers were clutching and grasping at his back/ Yunho’s head dropped, pressing his forehead along your temple. "Gonna cum, shit, Yunho-"

"Do it," he commanded.

Throwing your head back, eyes clenched shut, shuddering and panting, his warm lips suckled and nibbled the skin along the nape of your neck. "Look at me." His husky, gravelly command was clear, your eyelids snapping open and vision settling on his molten chocolate gaze. "You're mine, okay? Say you understand. Tell me."

You nodded feverishly. "Yes. Only yours."

"Louder."

"Yes!"

"Good. You're mine. I love you, darling. You're everything to me," and then he kissed the side of your cheek, running his palms down along your sides, slowing down to tenderly brush his hand on your sweaty face, wiping the strand of dampened hair that clung. "Do you love me, darling?"

Your heart melted. His passion and fiery intensity is gone, replaced by this warmth that surrounded the space in between and spread. There was that soft, tender voice that had a hint of yearning and hopefulness. You smiled brightly at him. "Of course," you nodded softly. "I love you. I love you. I love you. So much, so, so, so, so much. Never want anyone else. Just you."

His bright, blinding smile and glowing happiness was what had you beaming and grinning back as his eyes turned into those beautiful slits, like a cat. Then, he laughed. It was you favorite sound. Laughter that bubbled, like music. Music, just for you.

You lost yourself in his touch and love.

And the strange text messages were forgotten, vanishing completely out of your mind.

Yunho looked at you, sprawled out, peacefully sleeping after a night of intense fucking and blissfully being knocked out by pure exhaustion. With careful ease, he slid himself to sit at the edge of the bed and picked up your cell phone discarded earlier on the ground. Scrolling through the messages.

What kind of face were you making when you read these messages? Were you disgusted by them? Discomforted? Out of place? Annoyed? Perhaps a bit unsettled? Maybe even just the slightest bit scared? He looked over his shoulder and glanced at your slumbering form.

Yunho was surprised to see that not once had it even crossed your mind that he may be the culprit, the one who would stalk, obsess and prey on his innocent little prey.

But you weren't innocent, were you? You were so damn filthy and lewd, fucking and sucking with abandonment, swallowing the cum and slurping it, begging for more and more and more, not caring who else is watching, just as long as his thick cock filled your greedy cunt. And look at you, lying there, as if you were his property. All his to use and abuse however he saw fit, and you loved it, begging him and moaning and crying for him.

Not once did the idea occur to you, to him, your loving boyfriend, would be the cause behind those messages.

But maybe one day that would happen.

Perhaps you would find out, find out in time, but he had plans for you.

"Yunho?" you murmured, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, blinking the sleep and tiredness away, unaware of the expression plastered on his face. You rolled over to stare, rubbing the edges and corners. "Where did you go?"

"I'm grabbing something to drink, baby. Go back to sleep. I'll be back soon," he responded, voice like the smoothest silk.

Without questioning it, you nodded, mumbled, rolling back over to return to dozing and he quietly walked over to the kitchen. Pulling open the cabinet and fishing a burner phone out of its hiding space, underneath the containers and hidden away, behind the rows. He powered it on and shot a short message.

Unknown: Darling, looks like you enjoyed your meal very much. I'll see you soon. I hope you didn't eat all that dessert. Because there will be a lot more for me to feed and give and for you to swallow.

When it sent, and he received a brief acknowledgement from your phone, he quickly turned the burner phone back off and put it back in its hiding space. Shutting the cabinet, he returned to you, placing your phone on the end table and plugged in to charge overnight, before settling in next to you.

Lifting his arm, he let you slip into his embrace, pulling your face towards his chest, hearing that adorable happy sigh slip through your mouth. When Yunho leaned in, he pressed his lips to your temple. "You're mine, right, baby?"

"Mhmm," you agreed, sleepy.

"Forever?" He stroked your hair. "Not just tonight or tomorrow. But you'll stay with me forever?"

You didn’t answer back immediately, but he felt your nod. It was slight, yet he felt the assurance. The trust you held. And for the time being, it was enough. He decided to hold you a bit tighter, feeling your warm presence at the very center of his heart, where no other could touch. This, to him, was an oasis in the desert of his life. And he felt warm.

Warmth that he vowed never to lose.

He let the wicked thoughts take him. What he had to do, and planned to do. What he could get away with. How he was going to slowly strip apart that innocence of yours, leaving behind a sobbing mess and destroying those bonds of reality.

He wasn’t doing it because he wanted to.

He was doing it because he must.

Because you were meant for him and him alone. You were his from the beginning and no one was going to get in the way.

He buried the darkness away and wrapped his arms more tightly and lovingly around you, letting himself feel the happiness and peace a little while longer before the shadows could reach again.

One thing was clear.

One fact remained.

You belonged to Yunho and Yunho belonged to you.

Even if he had to lock you up and throw away the key. 

[illyrianslut]

Spymaster's mate - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is away on business for the Night Court, but Y/N needs satisfaction while he is gone. He senses through the bond what his mate is needing and winnows home.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, breeding kink, spanking, masturbation. I think that's it..

Author's Note: I don't write smut a lot, so please be kind xD Ao3 Link

You had known it was going to be another long lonely night at home without Azriel to keep you company, but that didn’t make coming home to your empty town home any easier. It had been a rainy, dreary day in Velaris but you’d made the best of it deciding to visit Feyre and Nyx at Feyre’s shop surprising them with treats from their favorite bakery.

Even after spending time with you little nephew the ache of missing your mate consumed you once you were alone. Of course you understood that Azriel’s job as Spymaster for the Night Court was an important one, and one that often stole him away from you for days at a time, it didn’t ever take away the ache of being away from him or not knowing if he is safe.

Throwing your things in a pile beside the door, you enter your home and make your way to the kitchen to begin making something for dinner. Much to your surprise, there is a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table, a card with your name on it is sitting beside it.

You look around your home, feeling that your mate isn’t there causing you to wonder how the flowers got into your -locked- home. The note was clearly written in Azriel’s handwriting, confusing you further. You give a small tug on the mating bond you share with him, but can tell instantly that his walls are up and there is no chance of you getting through to him.

Y/N,

I wanted to apologize for leaving you home alone for so long. You know how it kills me to be away from you. Rhysand needs me to stay here longer, I can explain more when I get home. I am so sorry for being away my love, I will be home as soon as time allows. I love you, Az.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips, it wasn’t the first time his job kept him away longer than anticipated, and surely wouldn’t be the last. You know not to take it to heart, but that doesn’t take away the sting of missing him.

You give up on the idea of dinner, just wanting the day to be over. Sleep sounds much nicer anyway. You give the flowers a quick sniff and smile, he had always known your favorite flowers to get. But you’d still rather your mate be home than have flowers.

Tomorrow would be one week since you saw him, one week since you felt his calming pretense, and felt him inside you. Your core aches at the thought of your last morning before he left, as always he made sure to satisfy you fully before leaving. You get to your bedroom and throw on one of his shirts and crawl into bed, still thinking about that morning.

He had woken you with his lips wrapped around your clit, and hands on your hips to hold you in place while he devoured you.

You move your fingers to your needy cunt, and begin rubbing slow circles on your clit, remembering the feel of your mate.

“Az.” You moan running your fingers through his hair, hips bucking to meet his tongue that is currently lapping at your entrance as though it’s his last meal.

“Good morning my beautiful girl.” He says, moving to slide a finger inside you. “How many times shall I make you come for me this morning?” He questions, adding another finger.

You can’t help but sigh deeply at the memory of his fingers inside you, tossing your head back moving your fingers faster.

You hum in response to his question, but can’t find any words as pleasure is coursing through your body. He begins sucking on your swollen clit, making a knot form in your stomach. “I’m gonna cum.” You clasp a hand over your mouth to hold back the moan rising in your throat. But he stops, taking away the pleasure he’d been giving so freely moments before.

“Don’t you dare hide those beautiful moans from me, princess.” He pulls your hand away from your mouth and holds it with his free hand, then goes back to lapping at your core. “You come for me, baby girl. Come all over my face.” His words are your undoing, your release hitting you all at once. Your legs clench around his shoulders and you let go, cumming on his tongue as he keeps licking, and pumping his fingers inside you quickly.

A tug is sent from the other side of the bond, a satisfied grin plasters itself on your face knowing that Azriel can feel the please you’re giving yourself. You drop what little shield was left to you, letting him in fully, letting him feel the orgasm you’re close to giving yourself.

“Please, I need more.” You beg him, not feeling fully satisfied, needing his cock inside you.

“Beg for it, Princess.” He commands, placing rough kisses up your body, sucking once he gets to your swollen nipple. “Beg for my cock if you want it so bad.” His hand reaches up to play with your other nipple.

Your body can’t help but respond to his deep, lust filled voice. “Az please, I need your cock inside me. I need you to fill my pussy.” Your voice comes out in a desperate whine while you take in the assault on your nipples.

“Good girl.” He praises you, lining his beautifully long cock up with your desperate cunt.

He doesn’t take but a moment before pushing his entire length inside you, earning a lust filled moan from both of you.

A brief rustle beside you brings you back to reality. You can’t help but startle seeing a dark figure in the corner of your bedroom, but once you recognize the shadows of your mate you continue flicking your fingers over your clit.

“You dirty little slut.” Azriel growls, stalking over to the bed and gripping your ankles to pull you to meet him.

You laugh excitedly, knowing that you’re in trouble, but also knowing the punishment will be well worth it. “What did I do?” You ask innocently, eyes raking down the man before you. His cock bulging through his leathers, wings fluttering as they always did when lust overtook him, and his eye narrowed on you.

“You know exactly what you did.” He leans down, grabbing the hand that had just been rubbing your clit and pulled you to a sitting position. His lips are close to yours, but instead of kissing you he lifts your hand to his mouth and sucks on the two fingers covered in your wetness. “Take off the shirt.” He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You do as your told, and toss the shirt you’d taken from his dresser across the room. He stood above you not breaking eye contact, he loved to hold the power over you in the bedroom, to be in control. “Get your ass in the air.” Another command, causing your needy cunt to clench looking for something to fill it.

You turn yourself around so that your ass is in the air, and shake it for him. A hard smack lands on your left cheek, a moan from you as you savor the punishment. “Please Az, I need your dick inside me.” You beg, wishing more than anything that cock was filling you up like it had before he left.

He sucks gently at your collarbone, sure to leave a nice purple bruise after he’s done. His hips pull out of you teasingly slow before he shoves his cock back into you so hard your body pushes up. He repeats his thrust again and again, earning pleasure filled cries from you. “That’s right pretty girl, take my cock like a good fucking girl.”

You clench around his cock at his words, digging your fingers into his shoulder. “Good girl, clench that pussy around my dick. That’s right, take it just like that.” Another thrust into your aching pussy.

Smack. Your right cheek stings as he slaps it bringing you back to him. “Dirty slut, distracting me from my work.” One more slap to your left cheek and he pulls away, a whine leaving your lips. “Take my dick out, and if you’re a good girl maybe I’ll fuck you.”

You sit up quickly, facing him on the bed and begin undoing the leathers between you and his cock. A satisfied hum comes from him at your eagerness, earning you a soft caress on the cheek. As soon as you’ve undone his leathers and hauled them down you take in the beauty that is his length. Pre cum is spilling out of the tip, you lick your lips before getting to your knees in front of him, licking his entire length.

He groans your name, and puts a fist in your hair tugging at the roots. You open your mouth wide to fit him inside, and dip down to take as much as you could, using your hand to pump the remaining length. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He praises, keeping his grip in your hair while guiding you in sucking his cock.

A glance up at him shows you his eyes closed tightly, and lips parted slightly as his soft moans fill the room. You use your free hand to cup his balls and he stiffens immediately, eyes shooting open to look down at you. “You are my good girl, aren’t you?” He grabs both sides of your head and thrusts into your mouth several times, making your eyes fill with tears, and gag as his entire length is shoved down your throat. Just when you think you aren’t able to take more he stops, and pulls you up gently. “Aren’t you?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that had filled your eyes from the face fuck, and reach behind him to run a gently finger across the base of his wings. “Do you think you deserve my dick?” He questions, shuddering at your touch.

“Yes baby.” Your words sound like a plea. You can’t help but grind against his cock, needing the friction, your dripping pussy aching for relief.

He leans down to your shoulder placing an all too gently kiss there before wrapping his arms under your ass and picking you up. Instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and lull your head to the side as he sucks at the soft skin.

Before you know it, your back has hit the wall, and he crashes his lips to yours. “You are my good little girl.” He lines his tip up with your entrance and without another word, thrusts into you. “Who got your pussy so wet angel?” He asks, pulling out and thrusting back in quickly, his balls slapping against you while he fucks up into you.

“You did Az, my pussy is soaked only for you.” You moan, taking his cock up inside you, grinding as much as you can to create more friction on your clit.

He hold you up with one arm, still fucking you when he reaches between you and uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. A red hot ball begins to form in your stomach, lewd sounds leaving your mouth as you try to form words around the ecstasy that you’re feeling.

“I’m g-gonna.” You try to get out, but just as the orgasm is about to take over you he pulls out and sets you on wobbling legs. “Az-” You beg, looking up, legs shaking as you’re unable to hold yourself up at the let down from you ruined orgasm.

“Not yet you’re not.” He drags you over to the bed, holding you up as your body comes down from the disappointment. “You’re coming on my mouth first, sweet girl.” He tells you, laying you down and kneeling before you.

His cock is being fisted in his hand as he pushes you down and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You don’t cum until I tell you to. Is that understood?” His mouth is hovering over your soaked pussy, but he refuses to give you pleasure until you acknowledge his words.

“Yes baby.” You confirm, hips rolling looking for any sign of satisfaction.

He leans in and immediately starts lapping at your soaking cunt “You’re so beautiful.” He says into you, sucking and slurping sending lightning bolts of pleasure rushing through you. Your ruined orgasm coming back, full force.

As though he senses the oncoming orgasm, he tears his hand away from his cock so he can put two fingers inside you, pumping quickly while he continues sucking on your clit. The pleasure is about to burst out of you, and you know you need to ask before you come. “Please let me cum.” You beg, hips bucking to meet his finger thrusts.

“Come for me princess.” With those words you come undone, your pleasure fulled moans filling the room, mixed with the slurping of your pussy in Azriel’s mouth. “Mmm, good fucking girl.” He praises, as your body convulses, letting the orgasm run through you.

You moan his name and a string of curse words, running your fingers through his hair. “Now it’s my turn, and I’m going to cum in that little pussy of yours.” Another wave of pleasure consumes you as he lay over you and thrusts inside before letting you come down from your first orgasm.

He fills you so completely, stretching your cunt to the limits filling you with the most beautiful feeling. His large hand finds your throat, and squeezes just enough to send more pleasure through you, his pace quickening as he fucks into you harder.

You reach back and play with his wings, and close your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat. “I’m gonna cum in your pussy and fill you with my seed. You little fucking whore.” His thrusts are becoming sloppy, he releases his grip on your throat and hold himself over you continuing to pump into you.

Your second orgasm burst out of you when he took your nipple in his mouth, the sensation overtaking you. You knew he was close, and the stimulation was becoming too much for you to bare, “Please cum inside me, I want you to put a babe in me, Az.” You knew the words would be his undoing, he’d been attempting to get you with child for years.

Just like that his weight was on top of you in the most loving way and you felt his cum filling you up. Your name continuing to fall off his lips as he kept thrusting to push his seed further inside. As he finished his hips pressed into you, creating an overstimulated cry leave your lips.

As he realized what caused the cry, he began grinding against you harder, a devious grin spreading across his lips. You try to push his weight off you, feeling another unwelcome orgasm creeping up inside you “Az it’s too much.” You beg, your hips betraying you and grinding into his.

The orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, another cry escaping out of you. “You have one more in you, I know it.” He slides down your body, and holds your hips in place while he attaches his lips to your exposed cunt again.

“Azriel!” You cry out, the overstimulation crashing into you, tears falling from your eyes and your cunt clenching trying to hold back an orgasm.

He nips at your bundle of nerves and that is your undoing, your final orgasm leaving your body like an exorcism. Cries of pleasure and pain fill the room as your cunt aches from overuse. “That’s my good girl” Azriel walks away for only a moment before coming back with a warm cloth.

He kneels before you, as your body is trying to regulate itself. “I’m going to clean you now princess, and you need to let me.” He instructs, you can’t do anything but nod as your adrenaline lowers. As he gently wipes at your dripping and aching pussy you want to pull away, but he holds you there getting every drop off you.

You can’t move in the aftershock of your orgasms, so he wraps his strong arms around you and brings you to the head of the bed, tucking you in. “Come love.” He whispers, pulling you close to him, letting you rest your head on his check.

“You were so good for me, you’re such a good girl.” He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. “And who knows maybe I will have finally put a babe in you.” He smiles lovingly at you, and you can’t help but swell with love also at the idea of carrying his child.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 7

AN: The long awaited part 7. Before anyone fears, no this isn't the end of the series don't you worry. I don't have many ideas for the next few parts, but I'm sure I'll think of something or one of you can help!

Also how do we feel about giving Reader a tail? /gen I have a few ideas I've been toying with with reader having a tail, but I don't want to cross the line between too self indulgent and reflecting of my character, rather than trying to be as inclusive as possible.

-> Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2

Warnings: Depictions of past trauma/ injury, past depictions of being turned into a Twisted/ seeing a loved one as a twisted/ recovering from being a Twisted, mentions of vomit, past depictions of losing a lost one, talk of scars (In a positive light, but just in case!)

☁ The first few nights were hard. So, so incredibly hard. Not by any fault of your own, oh absolutely not, but that didn't make the nights any less taxing or offer them anymore rest.

☁ There were a few times you offered tearfully to sleep in your old room so they could hopefully get some rest, each one shot down with a stern No'. The mere thought of having you out of their line of sight was more than their nerves could take, especially somewhere where they couldn't reach immediately? Hard Pass.

☁ The first night was by far the worst. Cosmo can't say he really remembers recovering from being a twisted, but there was one thing that stuck out for him during the entire process. And that was you. You were there the entire time, gently pressing cool cloths to his forehead, helping him sip water, even keeping saltine crackers on hand in case his temporarily fickle stomach decided that food was somewhat acceptable.

☁ You were the same with Astro and Sprout as well, ensuring the recovery, as awful as it was, was still as seamless as you could make it. If there was one thing he did remember about healing from being a twisted, is that he would never wish it upon another being. Much less you.

☁ The first night you're returned, you're rushed to med-bay as a flurry of commotion happens. Those left behind are eager to see if you've been returned, especially poor Toodles who took your turning hard. She's holding Blu when they rush past, tears in her large eyes, but Rodger is quick to turn her away.

☁ Sprout is already barking orders with Ginger meeting them halfway, first aid kit in hand. They had given you minimal attention in the ride up, but they didn't have the time, space or resources necessary to give you proper medical attention.

☁ It's a flurry of action that follows right after. Astro stays up by your head, wiping the ichor that stained your mouth and clumped your fur. His cheeks are shiny as he does it, shaking his head every now and then before continuing his actions.

☁ Cosmo barely remembers all he did that night, there was so much that needed done. That wound you had received from-...From when you turned into a twisted had never closed, the excess ichor from being a twisted keeping you alive. It was an awful, horrid thought, but not one they could ignore as Cosmo hurriedly worked alongside his cousin to close it. Sprout busied himself with working on the claw marks across your face you had made in your confused state. Every bit he seemed to do made his grimace deepen. He wasn't sure what the other was seeing, but currently wasn't certain he wanted to know during this moment.

☁ Your teeth still remained sharp as you groaned in pain throughout the process, hands reaching back up to swat at the insistent burden yanking on your wounds, only for them to be caught by Shelly, who had followed to offer her help.

☁ She had felt awful about the entire situation, regardless if you would've done it either way. Vee as well, though she stayed further back to avoid getting in the way. Shelly's tougher skin made her more resistant to your claws and slashes, so she was a welcome helper, even if it made the working space a bit more cramped.

☁ Seeing you hurt like that was an awful feeling. Cosmo remembers feeling the bile burn at the back of his throat that night, increasing in every little noise or whimper of pain you made. Even when the worst was handled, he had to step back for a moment, hiding in Astro's chest as Sprout continued wiping away what was left. The same grimace was on his features, one much more intense than what was usually there when he was in doctor mode.

☁ He didn't speak more on it until far after Shelly had taken her leave with a tearful well wishes. Even then, the berry had only dragged a chair closer, hiding his face in his hands. Neither Astro nor himself knew where to go from there, and that just made them feel all the more worse as you seemed to fall into a fitful unconsciousness.

☁ Cosmo wasn't sure if it counted as sleep, honestly, not with how you still shook.

☁ "They have so many scars." Sprout finally spoke up, voice wavering before it cracked as he smoothed back his leaves, letting them fall back into place. "They hide them under their fur. How did-..." Sprout swallowed tightly at this before looking up at them with teary eyes. "How did we miss that?"

☁ Neither waited for a moment further before rounding around the medical bed to wrap their arms around the berry. He was tricky when it came to emotions, especially since this entire thing began, flickering between anger and denial like a coin, to see him break down like that was rare.

☁ "It's easy to miss." Cosmo nearly choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes as he flickered between watching your chest rise and fall to the floor. There was a crack in one of the tiles. You'd want that fixed, so no one tripped. He'd make not of it later. "Their fur covers it-"

☁ "Is that really an excuse?" Sprout cuts back in, his own eyes watching you in the same clinical way Cosmo found himself doing it. "For the others maybe. But us?"

☁ Cosmo couldn't find any rebuttal, swallowing tightly. He knows he himself has spent countless hours with his fingers running along your fur, playing with the stands and drawing shapes against the grain of it. He just never really focused on the skin beneath because he truthfully didn't think too. Looking back, maybe that was on him. He should've done better, done something more-

☁ "I don't think anyone's at fault." Astro's comment cut through the sudden silence. He had been dreadfully silent since getting back from the run so to hear him sound so exhausted was...jarring. He always had a sleepy, tired lilt to his voice, but to hear it like that made Cosmo's tail curl tighter against his back.

☁ Silence fell again before Astro was continuing. "I think, to a degree, it would be...more questionable if they didn't have any. They've been doing this far longer than you, me or even Cosmo's been in the picture. We can't stop them, but we can support them however possible as we have been." Astro swallows for a moment, using a star shard to bring a box of tissues closer. He takes one, wiping under his eye before setting it to the side. "They will always be like this. They'll be our self-sacrificing idiot who doesn't know when to stop, but that's why we fell in love with them. We can't change them and I hope none of us would try. Their scars are part of who they are. We-...I love every part of them, even the parts they may not love as much. Those parts we just have to love a little extra."

☁ The words stand, nearly tangible in the air for a long while. He's right. There are very few times when Astro isn't, but it's a jarring notion to understand what you truly went through. Even Cosmo himself hadn't known how long you and Poppy and Boxten had been doing it since he wasn't even the first returned. No, by the time he had been recovered, Finn, Shrimpo and Rodger had been well acquainted parts of the group and you had become comfortable in your role as a distractor.

☁ He wonders just how much of the burden you've carried silently with you. He's terrified of the answer you'd give if he asked.

☁ "I do...I do love them." Sprout choked, as if that was ever being brought into question. "I just- What if they hurt? What if every time we ask them to distract they're just a constant reminder of every past failure to them? They've done so much for all of us. Who are we to ask anything more?"

☁ "Like Astro said, it's who they are. I think if they truly didn't want to distract, they wouldn't. And I hope they would feel safe enough to come to us if the scars were causing them pain." The first tear falls down Cosmo's cheek, which is quickly wiped with a star shard covered in a tissue. "I mean, for heaven's sake, they turned into a twisted to save Vee on a run to save Shelly. If that's not the most selfless thing I've seen, I don't know what is."

☁ "Truthfully, I think I rather would've dealt with Vee's Twisted then theirs." Astro deadpans only to immediately flush a navy blue as Sprout cackles, Cosmo hiding his own laughs behind a hand. Astro practically swallows his tongue as he's quick to try and amend it with, "Not that I would wish that on any of us!"

☁ Sprout shakes his head as he finally leans back, his own cheeks shiny- which the star shard tries to wipe at only to get swatted at, making Astro pout. Both of Sprout's arms reach around to hook around both Cosmo and Astro as he takes a final deep breath. "We'll talk with them. Maybe now they'll see reason. Because yeah. I'm not dealing with that again."

☁ "They were so scary!" Cosmo whines, leaning on Sprout's shoulder. "But also-...Hear me out-"

☁ "Stoooop." Sprout groans, tipping his head back as Astro nods solemnly. "I'm hearing."

☁ Cosmo laughs at this before you're suddenly jumping up, cheeks puffed and they already know what that entails. Cosmo grabs the nearest trash can while Astro gently pulls back anything that could get in the way while Sprout makes for the nearest medication cabinet.

☁ Cosmo holds the trash can for you as you purge the excess ichor in your body, watching your heaves with a heartbroken glance while Astro rubs your back, even if he himself looks nauseous at the sight and sounds. He's quick to switch with Sprout when he returns, measuring out the stomach medication the berry had grabbed. It had aided the rest of them when it came to rejecting the ichor and they hoped it would with you too.

☁ In the very least, as awful as it was, it was a good sight to see as it meant you were recovering in the very least. Even if your heaves sounded painful and tears tracked down your cheeks. It would a pattern that would continue throughout the night unfortunately, which they would need to stay up to assist you with, but it was a chore they were more than happy to do. You had been the one to sit with each of them throughout the night, making sure they had all the comfort you could offer at the time.

☁ So even as the minutes ticked like hours, they knew it was all worth it. Every trip to empty the trash cash, every startled awakening at the sound of your gags, every wince as you pleaded for mercy. Anything to get you back.

☁ The following days are better. The next morning, right before it could be qualified as noon, you were cognizant enough to recognize where you were, eyes unfocused as you swayed, trying to sit up only for that to be one of the worst ideas you've ever had.

☁ The boyfriend on duty is quick to come to your side, with a hand on your back as soft whispers buzzed in your ear. You curled in on yourself, eyes scrunching shut before a deep breath had you finally stabilizing enough you could blink your eyes. Sprout was right there, offering you a gentle smile as he tried to figure out what exactly you were seeing.

☁ You practically threw yourself at him, pulling him close as tears burned your eyes. You cried into his scarf as his hands slowly curled back around you, squeezing you tightly to his chest as his own shoulders shook. "Oh. bud, I've missed you."

☁ "I'm sorry." You blab. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You cry, squeezing him tighter when it almost seems like he's going to pull away. You don't remember much about your time as a twisted except for spotting Sprout and smelling the ichor of a non-twisted toon being spilt. You prayed it wasn't you to cause that wound, that there was no wound at all, but subtly looking at his arm quickly dashes that hope.

☁ "No, no, bud you did nothing wrong." This time you allow him to pull away, only for his hands to cup your cheeks. "You're just as perfect as you always are." His green eyes shine with unshed tears, which quickly rectify that by trailing down his freckled cheeks. You sob at the sight, your own hands- with nails longer than you normally keep them- cupping his cheeks.

☁ Sprout crashed his lips against yours in a show of desperation, tears making the kiss taste salty as your shoulders fall in relief. IF he was okay, the others had to be okay, right? They had to be? You didn't hurt them too, did you? You prayed not.

☁ Pulling away, you angled his chin every which way, scanning his face as he gave you a few watery chuckles. "You're okay? All leaves, limbs and seeds?"

☁ Sprout caught your hands, pulling them down so he could look at you, nothing but sweet, adoring love in his eyes. "Leaves, limbs and seeds all attached." He coos, laying his forehead on yours as his shoulders heave with a long heavy sigh. "Oh, bud. You're okay."

☁ "You're not." You frown, feeling the tears threaten to burst out all over again. "I'm-"

☁ "It wasn't you." Sprout interrupts, making you blink. "No, a twisted flutter got me, but you? Even a twisted, you've proven you'll still protect us." His smile is sad, but relieved as you feel your stomach finally settle.

☁ You get a few moments more before the door is being slammed open, but not by another toon. No, it must've been ajar, because who else is waiting there but Blu herself, looking as grumpy as the day she accidentally fell into the snow in Bobette's shop, mewing in long, interrupted yowls as she trotted to the medical bed, jumping up and immediately crawling all over you.

☁ Sprout tried to grab her, but you waved him off, scooping up the baby and letting her place her paw on your cheek. You cooed at her, nuzzling your nose against her cold, wet one. She mewled once more before it delved into a purr, making you snicker. "I know, tell me all about how unfair your dads are."

☁ "Oi!" Sprout immediately called, looking only mildly offended before footsteps had you both looking over at the doorway once more. Cosmo was there, already panting as he leaned his head against the doorway. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, she was sleeping and then suddenly just took off and-" He looked up at that point, only for his mouth to gape open. He stilled for a second as Astro popped his head in, looking at the pastry. "Did you find-"

☁ He too was left slack-jawed before Cosmo was moving and he was following, both wrapping you in tight hugs and a flurry of kisses. It was comforting and perfect, and enough to make you forget about how awful your stomach felt.

☁ They were quick to fill you in on everything that had happened in your absence and, honestly? Hearing Astro talk about having his best friend back made your heart thrum and how happy he seemed, moreso now that he had everyone in his little family back at long last.

☁ While your side still hurt and your muscles still sung from the strain put on them. being wrapped between them felt safe. Safer than you've felt since the moment of pure terror that wracked your entire nervous system the second you knew only one of you would make it to the elevator.

☁ Still, you knew there was something on the horizon. A discussion that needed to be had and it made whatever was left in your gut churn and rot further than it already had.

☁ It didn't come until later that night when you were finally back in your room, eating something soft and easy to digest (My personal fav is oatmeal but I know now everyone can eat that so y'all get to choose <3), chatting with Cosmo when a knock at the door made you look up.

☁ Astro had popped his head in, scanning for your form before immediately relaxing when he spotted you. "Are you okay with a few visitors? Absolutely feel free to say no."

☁ You honestly hadn't expected anyone to visit you, really. Goob and Scraps had both had their own tearful reunions with you, Goob especially, and Poppy and Boxten had visited as well. You weren't overly close with anyone else, but while confused, you nodded.

☁ Astro scanned you for a second, as if to see if you were lying, but when he found nothing he stepped more fully inside. Sprout followed, immediately wounding to your side and pressing a peck to your lips. You smiled at him before looking back over, eyes widening at the two toons standing there.

☁ Shelly looked nervous, but waved even as her smile wavered, her tail giving a small, short little wag. Vee looked miserable if you were honest. You had never seen the main so...upset, making you frown. Was she upset with you? You know you probably shouldn't have pushed her, but you had no other option at the time!

☁ Astro took his own spot beside, across from where Sprout had moved to sit beside Cosmo.

☁ "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Shelly begins, tapping her fingers together before meeting your eye. "I wanted to thank you personally. And apologize. It was me you were retrieving and-"

☁ "And it wouldn't have happened if I had just picked up the pace." Vee cuts in. She makes it a point not to look at you, making you frown, fingers curling around your blanket. Vee let out a sigh, antennae giving a little spark as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm...So, so so-"

☁ "You have nothing to apologize for." You hold up a hand, scrunching your features. "I made my choice. You had nothing to do with what i decided. I promise. i never would've done something if it wasn't something I was sure about doing. There was never a moment I was upset with you, either of you." You're quick to reassure, sending them both a smile. Shelly returns it quickly, but Vee only gives you a glance and you frown.

☁ That was Sprout's best friend. You knew you didn't have to get along with everyone, but you wanted to get along with these two especially.

☁ Shelly seemed relieved at least, which made Astro relax at least a bit, but that wasn't enough for you. "I promise, Vee. If anything I owe you all an apology." You wilted a bit, even if Vee finally looked at you. "My twisted is...not the best, even I could admit that and I should've planned with the twisteds better rather than risk putting you guys in that situation. So for that, I apologize." You continue, continuing even if Vee looks like she's going to cut in. "It's happened, and it's fixed already. We can just blame whoever started the Ichor operation rather than try to keep playing this 'who can blame themself the most' game."

☁ Vee gapes and you smile at her softly, opening your arms. "Hug it out with me? Therefore all is forgiven and we can't blame ourselves anymore." The television looks at you, then at Shelly, then Sprout before her shoulders fall and she's slumping forward. You wrap your arms around her, feeling the chill of her metal plates. Looking over, you make eye contact with Shelly, who smiles sadly at the action. You open one of your arms and the fossil is immediately burrowing into the hug as well with her tail whapping about.

☁ When you separate, they take their leave not soon after, seemingly much lighter than when they came in. But then you're left with the other three. Astro's who's already sitting beside you, but the other two crawl onto the bed so you're all sitting in a circle of types.

☁ Your eyes dart from one to the next to the next before falling to where your knuckles are white around the blanket, having returned to clutching the fabric. You have to actively uncurl your fingers.

☁ You know there's probably tons to discuss, but you don't even know where to start.

☁ So Sprout does. He's never one to beat around the bush, especially looking back to before you all were together, and it's something you greatly admire about the berry.

☁ "We saw the scars." Is all he says, his own eyes remaining downcast as he plays with his scarf. You swallow, debating your options before breathing out, letting down the walls you normally kept up around everyone else.

☁ "Most of them are front the beginning." You admit. "I wasn't a good distractor then. I wasn't even really okay. I did it when we absolutely needed one. We had none of the trinkets we do now and didn't even think about them at the time. So I was an extractor and Cosmo knows that me extracting is like teaching a fish to fly." You spill immediately, thinking back to the lacerations that once marred your skin. "I'm sorry if they bothered you. I tried to keep them as covered up as possible. in case they...upset you all"

☁ "It's not the fact that their there, starlight. Well, I mean, that's kind of part of it, but...Why didn't you tell us?" Astro prods, laying a hand on you knee as another gentle rubs your shoulder. You bristle at the question, rolling your shoulders for a second before responding.

☁ "They aren't number one on my list of discussion topics. I'd rather forget about them personally." Simple as that.

☁ There's silence for a second before Cosmo is raising his hand, pointing to a white line that circles around his forearm. "This is from my time as a twisted. You'd remember best, but my hand was all sorts of messed up, right?"

☁ You nod at this and he points to his eye, with a matching line circling around it, so faint if he wasn't pulling attention to it, most wouldn't notice. "Half my face too, right?"

☁ You nod once more and he mimics the action. "Are you ashamed of my scars?"

☁ "No!" You're quick to bark, immediately ready to quell any worries he has, but Cosmo isn't done, pointing to Sprout- who blinks at the finger like it personally offended him. "What about Sprout? He has his own scars. You ashamed of those?"

☁ "No, Cosmo that's not-"

☁ "Then what about Astro? He's got his fair share too." The pastry points to one of the hands on your knees, which indeed had it's own smattering of scars from his time as a twisted.

☁ "No." You stare him down, gaze hard as he meets your own just as challenging. "Then why does that change for you?" You don't have an immediate answer, and Cosmo pounces on that. "What makes your scars different from ours? Why would we ever be ashamed of your scars, of your journey, when you would never dream of even thinking about that of ours?"

☁ You gape at him, trying to find some sort of defense, but you can't. He seems satisfied at that, but it's not for long as you're speaking once more.

☁ "Mine were self-inflicted." You avoid looking at them, even as your heart practically chokes you. "You never signed up to be a twisted. I willingly trained and worked to become a distractor. These come with the territory."

☁ There's silence for a second before Sprout is speaking once more. "Do they hurt?"

☁ You frown at the question, but shake your head. "No. They don't."

☁ Sprout exhales in relief at this before leaning back on his palms. "This isn't meant to make you feel any type of way about them, bud. They're yours and we understand better than most that scars can bring...complicated feelings. There's just...so many. We just want you to care a little more about yourself."

☁ "Seeing you in danger all the time is hard on his heart." Astro gently jokes, even if he gets a light kick in return for the jab. The celestial takes a breath before leaning on your shoulder, one of his hands reaching to hold your own. "We just want you safe, starlight, above all else. The bed's too big for three of us."

☁ You take a breath that quivered in your lungs before nodding slowly. You had expressed to Astro before how terrified you were of your own twisted and never wished to expose it to them, but did so anyway.

☁ You could only imagine the fear they were feeling the entire time, especially on the retrieval.

☁ "I'm sorry. Not for doing what I did, I don't regret and never will." You began, finally looking back up at them. "But I agree. I've been a bit careless. It's a distractor's job to keep the twisteds occupied, but not by being a dumbass. I don't want to give up distracting though." By the end you're practically pleading.

☁ "And we would never ask you too." Sprout gives you a soft smile. "Even if you stress me the fuck out, you enjoy it. Just...maybe keep the distance between you and the twisteds a bit bigger. And keep an escape route open whenever possible. And a bandage on hand. And a can of pop. And-"

☁ You laugh, wiping your tears as you shake your head. "I get it. I'm sorry I scared you all."

☁ "Just remind us to never piss you off." Cosmo shakes his head. "You're scary when angry. Although, watching you protect Sprout like that-"

☁ "We are not having this conversation again!" Sprout immediately shuts down, hitting the pastry in the face with a pillow, quickly getting a swift hit in retaliation. The two tussle for a second, making you give a wet laugh as Astro nuzzles into you. Your finger taps on the back of his hand, silently asking for an explanation.

☁ He hums in acknowledgement at the unasked question, moving to kiss your shoulder. "You're hot in all forms. Cosmo especially likes your protective side."

☁ This makes you bark out a laugh, calling the attention of the other two back to you.

☁ "What are you laughing at?" Sprout grinned, straddling Cosmo who was squirming under the hand on his forehead keeping him pinned down.

☁ "You're all such dorks." You snicker, grinning before holding your hands out to them. "Hugs?"

☁ You're only able to let out a yelp at Sprout turns instead pull you into his chest, the other two also wrapped in the absolute bear hug. It makes your heart thrum happily, especially when Blu manages to pop her head up in a crevice and mew her greetings happily.

☁ So even while the first few nights were hard, as you lay there, wrapped in the embrace of your boys and feeling their laughter once more, you know that tonight won't be nearly as so.

☁ And if absolutely nothing else, that was what made it all worth it.

AN: Guys, remember how I made that joke (It wasn't a joke) about hating that Rodger and taking it out on their Bobette? GUESS WHO'S NOW A MARKETABLE PLUSH >:) Huge huge huge shoutout to @belifbel

RAHH LOOK AT THEM

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

ANGST SHADOWXREADER IDE BC I CRAVE FOR ANGST LIKE A B★TCH

Hey I was wondering if you could do a shadow the hedgehog x reader fanfic where Reader gets corrupted by black doom (not possessed)

(Side note: I got this idea for the fact we know shadow HATES black doom and the black arms and was really shown in sxsg)

Reader acts more cold,apathy,untruthful and cruel

their fur now with a notice able fade of black,dark red and red, Their pupils now the same as black doom, they wear the same golden chains with a set of gold-spiked medallions possessing a gem, and a double black cord necklace with red, blue, yellow, and purple ornaments on one and golden and silver pendants on the other that resemble the Black Arms' insignia,their fingers? More like demonic claws, Voice? Cold and uninterested., rest of their outfit? Robe like Just like black doom’s and shows of uneasy aura and power

“Where it Hurts Most”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Corrupted Mobian Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Never did he think Black Doom would be back. And never did he think would he use the person that he loves most to hurt him–you.

Notes: I decided to set this during Shadow Generations so I hope you don’t mind! Hope you enjoy it regardless!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“(This white space is weird,)” you thought to yourself. “(I haven’t seen anyone in here!)”

You had been transported here suddenly on your way to Sonic’s birthday party, and you hadn’t even seen any sign of Sonic.

Or Shadow, for that matter.

Or…anyone.

It was beginning to worry you.

When you next take a step, something wraps around your foot, causing you to yelp out of surprise.

It…seems to be this black-colored goop.

When you take a step back, the goop attaches itself to the ground and pulls you further.

“Nononono, I’m not dying like this!” you yell, trying to pull yourself free.

“FOOLISH FLESH,” you hear a voice say. “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE. NO, IT’LL BE MUCH, MUCH WORSE.”

You let out a loud scream as you’re dragged into the goop, it surrounding your body, a burning sensation covering you until your vision goes black.

When you next awake, you feel…better.

Stronger.

Perfect.

Looking down at your body, it seems you’ve undergone some fantastic transformations.

Your fur is now black and red, with gold chains littering your body, with a gold medallion placed near your neck, like a better necklace.

Different colored ornaments are strewn about the chains, and oh my Doom, your claws.

They seem to gradient into a black on your fingers, with your claws being ever-so-slightly red.

You also appear to be wearing a robe similar to your new overlord.

Black Doom.

Before you can admire your new form any longer, a set of footsteps causes your now dark-red-tipped ears to flick.

You turn around, looking at the mobian responsible for these footsteps, only to find fear in his eyes.

Shadow’s eyes.

…

Good.

“[Name]? What the hell happened to you?!” Shadow asks.

You let out a chuckle, an echo in your voice.

“I became better, Shadow,” you tell him. “And you can become better, too. Join me on the side of the Black Arms, and we’ll never be apart again.”

Shadow lets out a growl, getting into a defensive stance.

“I don’t want to fight you, [Name],” Shadow says. “Just snap out of it.”

“Snap out of what, exactly?” you ask him. “My glorious new overlord’s control?”

“Let them go, Black Doom! Right this instant!” Shadow demands.

“I’M AFRAID I WON’T BE DOING THAT, SHADOW,” you and Black Doom say at the same time. “THEY’VE BECOME BETTER, STRONGER, DON’T YOU SEE? YOU CAN BECOME JUST. LIKE. THEM.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again…I’d NEVER join you!” Shadow states.

“THEN HAVE FUN GETTING YOUR PRECIOUS [NAME] BACK,” Black Doom spats. “YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO BREAK THEM OUT OF THEIR CORRUPTION.”

“Go on then, Shadow,” you start with a mocking voice. “Attack me.”

“I’m sorry for this, [Name],” Shadow mutters to himself. “But I’ll get you back. I promise.”

[quarterlifekitty]

To add to my earlier ask about how I have more step-dad Nik, your add on was so good because absolutely. Yes. Sweet girl is too fucked out to ask about protection or to think of anything other than Nik fucking load after load into her. She also doesn't think to ask for protection the next day in the shower since Nik gets her so worked up with his mouth first. Makes her cum on his tongue at least twice before fucking a few more out of her and filling her again. Cleans her up too, happy to hold his sweet girl and bathe her. Now I don't know how but she manages to get Nik to let her leave a second time (Nik is getting a new house ready closer to her college so she can attend online schooling, he doesn't want her feeling stir crazy when she's further along after all) and about a month after getting back she finds out she's pregnant. And despite being absolutely terrified of the situation she doesn't want to get rid of it, or at least keeps putting it off out of nerves. She eventually asks Nik if she can come visit and he's like 'oh, I sold that house, too many memories with the ex, new house is much closer to you though, do not worry' and he picks her up. Hand on her thigh the whole way to his (their) new home. She tries to act normal and everything but Nikolai can tell his sweet girl is distressed and presses her for the reason. Eventually she caves and tearfully confesses she's pregnant and she's 'so sorry' that she was so reckless and that she swears she won't bother him with anything and she'll go and he doesn't have to worry about her. And Nik only smiles 'Ah, what makes you think I'm mad? Hmm? And on that note, what makes you think that I'm not going to keep my pretty girl right here where I can take care of her?' and while SD should definitely be nervous and the red flags should be waving she never had a great basis for healthy relationships and she is falling for Nik as ashamed as she was of it at first. She keeps asking him if he's sure and it gets to a point where he just picks her up and takes her to their bed to show her just how sure he is. Funny side note Nik fully shoots her mom a text with something like 'thanks for introducing me to my soon to be wife, you should expect grandchildren within a year. Don't expect to see them though.' (take any dialog I type as an idea of what someone says cause I'm ass at typing in character) Once again thank you for listening to my rambling

Bro please ramble here all the time forever. I love this and I owe you my life.

Nik sending his ex a picture— doesn’t have your face in it, but you’re wearing like the one piece of family jewelry you ever got from her side of the family. It’s got your baby bump, and his hand holding yours— got a pretty ring on it now, too. And then he blocks her <3

Also reader like 100% has daddy issues in this one. Like her mom is piece of work and her dad is completely absent for whatever reason— when was the last time someone took care of her? Probably back when she was physically incapable of caring for herself. From the moment she could dress and feed herself she was on her own. It’s why it’s so painfully easy for her to fall into things with Nik. After a life that kind of treatment, Nik’s brand of doting is like crack.

And I like to imagine, while she might not know this in a full conscious way, she wanted to keep the baby because she fully expected Nikolai to leave her. It’s what she’s used to— and it’s strange for her to depend on him so much when he’s just her former stepfather, no? She’s constantly second guessing herself about leaning on him even a little— that she’s probably bothering him, and he’s just too kind to tell her off. But she does love him. So things would be hard, to raise the baby on her own, but at least she’d have a piece of him with her. She could remember the moments they shared that way, even when he left her.

She’s in for the fucking, no, the lovemaking of a lifetime when she confesses that little tidbit to him.

(This is all just my humble onion as this story is yours lol but this is what goes on in my imagination realm)

[cthulhus-curse]

Any ideas for dark dom reader x subby nat ?

You have no idea how long I have wanted to discuss my dom R/Natasha thoughts so thank you-

Knife + blood play with murderous Reader and subby Natasha, who is incredibly sensitive to pain, but by the gods does she love it. She is nice and tied up in your basement, with pretty scarlet robes tightly wrapped around her arms, legs, and chest -- her breasts perking up adorably so. You drag the knife over her stomach, and although she tries to kick and scream, you ignore it. If anything, it makes you want to keep going further. So you keep cutting her up, deeper each time, until Natasha is solely painted in red. A hand drifts to gather some of the blood on your fingers, and before you can taste it yourself, you bring them up to Natasha's quivering mouth. She is hesitant at first, but your other hand grabs her face roughly (ahem, like in The Avengers), and force your fingers inside. Maybe even fuck her throat a bit with your digits to ensure she swallows all her own blood before fucking her like so.

Stripper Natasha and stalker Reader. You never miss her shows. Never. If anything, most of the time you spend inside that club, sitting back and watching that redhead with hearts almost forming in your eyes. You are fully enamored by her, and it makes your blood boil to know she doesn't do private dances — which of course leads you to stalk her, to feel closer to her by watching her in her home and taking pictures to keep as mementos (although you don’t notice her putting on a show for you). So one night you find her in an alleyway after her shift, and are surprised she is waiting for you. Cigarette hanging from her lips, Natasha begins pulling up at her skirt, waiting for you to rip open her fishnets as you approach. And when she drops to her knees, her hands quickly and quietly tugging at your trousers, all you can do is grip her hair. Grabbing a fistful of it hard enough that she screams for you. And by the gods does she do wonders in eating you out/sucking you off. So easy to force yourself onto her, so willing.

Kidnapping Avenger Natasha and having her become a little maid for you. Breaking that tough Black Widow so that only a frail, hollow Natalia is left behind. You force her to clean your house wearing nothing but a small maid outfit that leaves her half-naked still. At times you manhandle her, choking her for your own pleasure or unzipping your pants for Natasha cleans something else up. But you love surprising her by forcing her against the nearest wall and shoving your strap/dick in her swiftly. Fucking her roughly, her moans turning into music for your ears. You can’t get enough. Her cunt tightens around your strap/cock whenever she’s about to cum as her back arches, and you do so as well. Filling Nat’s pretty pussy with so much fake cum/cum that it begins dripping down her shaky thighs. A mess she, once more, has to clean up with her mouth. And to make sure Natasha never leaves you, she is always wearing a collar that will shock her if she were to leave the premises.

[buckdefencesquad]

Chat, do I bother carrying this on? Classic Ghost being an idiot. But I'm debating just binning it

Soap isn't handsome. He's not rugged. He's not chiselled (well, his abs are). He's pretty. It makes Ghost fucking hate him as soon as he meets him. Soap is the prettiest fucking thing he's ever seen. He wants to own him. He's so pretty it makes him want to grab, tear, destroy. No straight man should be that gorgeous. It’s a crime against humanity.

He nearly loses it after their first mission together, Soap standing inches away from him, looking up at him through dark lashes. Pretty blue eyes shining and a sweet flush on his face. Spreading down his face, neck, below his t-shirt. Ghost wants to grab him, rip his shirt off and find out if it goes any further. Instead of giving in to his instincts, he just turned around and walked away. Leaving Soap there, pouting and confused.

He tries to resist Soap's attempts at friendship. But he's so fucking pretty and persistent and perky. All the P's Ghost can think of. It's like basking in the sun, getting soap's attention. He decides not to waste it. For as long as Soap gives it to him, He will take and take and take.

Soap is the pretty boy of the 141. Gaz is handsome, but Soap. Something about him just sucks you in. The higher-ups love him. The recruits love him. Everybody wants Soap in some way. Whether it's his friendship or more.

And yet it's Ghost he chooses. Soap walks into the mess and has numerous offers of a place to sit. He waves them off, grinning and gorgeous. Gets his food and hesitates for a second before making his way over to Ghost's table tucked in the corner. Sits down opposite him with a sweet little blush. Doesn’t expect Ghost to make conversation, just chatters away. The first few weeks of this happening, Ghost had just stared, Johnny not caring every time his eyes flicked up and met Ghost's relentless stare (which was surprisingly often).

Then Ghost started grunting at the appropriate times, enjoying the way Soap's eyes lit up. And then, a week later, he’d started talking. Soap had been almost giddy when he’d asked him a question about something he’d just said.

Ghost, let it continue. Soap dropped into his office and his room. Quiet nights spent together, talking about shared awful childhoods. Quiet nights filled with Soaps, gentle laughter, and ghosts muted chuckles. Seeing Soap stretched out on his bed, shoes kicked off, clad in sweatpants and a soft shirt was a real test of his self-control. Watching Soap roll over onto his back, stretching and groaning, telling Ghost he was too tired and comfy to move, so he’d just sleep here. Ghost would grunt and make him leave, ignoring Soap's pout as he shut the door behind him.

The most infuriating thing about how pretty Soap was, he didn’t even realise it. It was lucky, really, that Soap didn’t know the power he could wield, especially over Ghost. He’d come trotting over to their table in the mess, all cheery because, yet again, he’d been given an extra dessert. He’d hold it up, grinning at Ghost triumphantly, and Ghost would ache with want. The ache would worsen when Soap never hesitated before sliding the dessert over to him with a cheeky wink.

Ghost had some leave coming up and was in his room, packing when Soap sauntered in, throwing himself on the bed dramatically. Ghost ignored Soap, still methodically packing. Soap was staring intensely at him, and Ghost enjoyed the impatience he could practically feel simmering off of him.

“Lt,” Soap called.

Ghost grunted, knowing that Soap would understand it was an invitation to keep speaking.

“What are your plans when you’re home?” Soap asked, leaning in closer, smiling. “You got a guy? A girl?”

Ghost froze. He’d never come out to Soap, not wanting to risk Soap being uncomfortable with the idea of Ghost wanting him. But Soap was asking, so it must mean he was alright with it. He could use this moment to come out and pretend to Soap that he had no interest in him, that he was safe.

“No girls for me. Ever. No long-term guy either, but there’s this same one I fuck whenever I’m back home. I’ll probably shoot him a text on my way home. It’s been a while; there’s no one here I’d fuck, so it’s been a long year.” Ghost told Soap with a harsh laugh at the end. Of course, Ghost had no intention of texting anyone, too obsessed with Soap to consider ever touching anybody else.

He watched Soap out of the corner of his eye as he spoke. The easy smile on his face slid off his face. His face became hard, with no hint of the softness that he usually directed at Ghost. When Ghost finished speaking, there was a prolonged silence.

Soap stood up from the bed and nodded. “Have a great time.” Was all he said, going to clap Ghost on the shoulder before stopping himself and just walking out, the door slamming behind him.

Ghost stood there perplexed. He had no clue why Soap was suddenly mad at him. He sighed and continued to pack. It couldn’t be because he was gay, right? When he was finally finished, he placed his duffle by the door, ready for when he left the next morning.

As Ghost approached the jeep that would take him home, he looked around for Soap. He was sure he’d come and say goodbye, but there was no sign of him. He ignored the disappointment that gnawed at him. He knew this would happen. Something would make him lose Soap.

[mybworlds]

Part of your world

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader

Warnings: use of you, you’re a mermaid, I won't give any details except for nice long legs and very long hair, nudity, violence (a little?), use of both pov. If I missed smt please let me know.

Summary: Marcus Acacius and you meet. You immediately catch his attention, including Geta's.

Masterlist

A/N Thank you so much for the amount of love and support, it means a lot. It's a very long chapter, sorry, guys so take your time 🙏🏼 Likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory, but very appreciated! ❤️

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Taglist @harriedandharassed; @orcasoul; @blazeflays; @ijustlovemensm; @duck-duck-goose2; @blacksnape123

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics.

That night Marcus lies on his side with one hand under his cheek, staring out of his bedroom window at the star-filled sky. He didn't sleep a wink. He tossed and turned in bed several times, but the god of sleep wasn't on his side that night.

Tired of not being able to sleep, at the first light of dawn, Marcus puts on his tunic again and sneaks off to the beach. Luckily none of his servants are awake yet or else at least a couple would have run to his side preventing him from being alone for a while.

The sand is still cold at that hour, the wind barely ruffles his hair and dress, the sea is barely choppy. It's a picture of heaven and Marcus needs something like this to help him relax and keep the anxiety and fear in the pit of his stomach at bay.

The man thinks back to the previous evening. It went well, but inevitably he and Lucilla discussed their future union. She accepts it, but with rules. She wants to be able to continue being who she is, she wants to enjoy her birth privileges and she wants to be able to defend her ideas, whatever they may be. She knows that theirs is only a political union and that there will certainly never be any kind of emotional involvement between them and that they will probably not see each other except during the first night of their wedding, then everyone will do their part certainly, but without any other type of obligation. Marcus then told her that the two emperors suspect she is conspiring against them, but he did so with the intent of warning her not to expose herself too much. The woman maintained a composed calm, telling him that she would do everything discreetly and that he had no reason to fear for her or for himself as her husband.

Marcus can't help but feel forced to endure all of this. The truth is that he doesn't care about politics, marriage and all that. He just wants to be free and fight for his ideals of freedom and justice, but no one seems to care about these values. Everyone seems to have forgotten them and this always makes him feel out of place.

He sighs sadly when something, or rather someone, catches his attention: it's a girl, she's lying on her side, her hair falls partly on her face, on her shoulders, along her back covering her nakedness. She is still partly hidden among the waves of the sea that wet her exposed skin and make some locks of her hair wave. He quickly approaches, lifting her into his arms and carrying her a little further from the shore.

When they are far enough away, he sits on his knees in the wet sand, brushes her hair away from her face, and recognizes you. Anyone could have understood his astonishment at seeing the same girl from Sicily, the girl he himself had tried in vain to find when he was still there, the young woman who had saved him from the fury of the sea and then disappeared, now close to his home.

“Hey,” He shakes you gently before placing his cloak over your body “can you hear me? Wake up,” he asks brushing your hair away from your face and taking a long moment to gaze at you as if bewitched by your beauty.

You open and close your eyes over and over again, finally managing to keep them open and almost jump when you realize you're in his arms. You look scared.

“Hey, hey, calm down. It’s okay,” Acacius tells you, holding you against him “How did you find me? Did you... Did you follow me or something?” he asks you, then reminds you that you don’t understand him. “Oh, yeah, sorry, you and I don’t understand each other. Um, maybe I can try asking one of my servants if he can make himself understood by you or…”

“It's not necessary,” you mutter and Acacius frowns even more. So, you pretended not to understand? Why?

You sit down, moving slightly away from him and with your gaze you search for something, it's an old vial full of encrusted algae and with a strange liquid inside. You immediately grab it, holding it in your hands as if it were a precious treasure.

“So, can you talk?” he asks you using a surprised and suspicious tone. You nod, “Why didn’t you talk to me when we first met?” he asks you.

You look down for a moment, then look up again, “I was scared.” You whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. Don't be.” You and him remain silent for a while, he doesn't mind staying in your company even if it's silent, then he remembers that you're naked and that you're probably freezing “Oh, forgive me. I'm such a fool. Come inside. I'll have you draw a hot bath and then you'll tell me how you got here." he adds, standing up and offering you his hand to help you to get up. You grab his hand, but after a few moments you pull it back and look at him scared, “What is it?” he asks you.

“N — nothing.” he sees you swallow and then look into his eyes, you seem worried and agitated by who knows what. Maybe you don't want to tell him how you found him or you don't trust him enough to do so.

“If you don't want to tell me how you got here, that's fine. Don't worry. I'll listen to you whenever you want. Okay?” You nod, relaxing your shoulders and he also finds himself nodding his head and then make your way to his villa.

He sees you squeeze the bottle, who knows what it is! Maybe when you feel more at ease you'll tell him about it.

As you get closer to his villa, you do nothing but walk with your chin up, your eyes wide open and a big smile on your lips. It's Marcus who invites you to be careful where you put your feet, to climb this step now or not to put your feet in the ground when you are in the peristylium. It seems like you've never seen anything because you keep running from one corner of the house to another, touching the marble columns, jumping when you set your feet on the tiles.

“You have a beautiful house.” you tell him turning around and observing the splendid inlays and busts on the sides “Why do you have heads in the garden?” you ask him, frowning.

Marcus smiles, “They’re busts of my ancestors. They’re statues, they’re not real,” he explains.

“Oh,” you say in a whisper. You look into his eyes and your gaze seems to almost want to read him inside. He, who has seen so much, met and crossed so many glances, can barely stand yours.

“Have you never seen one?” he asks, his gaze wandering from you to a bust of a distant ancestor of his.

You shake your head, “I saw some drawings though,” you say, running a finger along the outline of the sculpture.

Marcus starts walking again and you follow him, turning your head from one side to the other as if you don't want to miss even a single detail of what you see.

“Are you hungry?” he asks you. “After your bath I’ll have a big meal prepared for you, if you wish.”

You don't answer him, you're a few steps behind and you're as if enraptured by what you see. You seem incredulous and so absorbed, you have such a beautiful and unique look that you almost seem like a creature from another world.

“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching out to you and moving his gaze in the direction your gaze is directed. The man immediately understands what has intrigued you and perhaps even scared you a little: it’s a statue of him.

He doesn't like it at all. He doesn't recognize himself in that representation, too pompous and proud. If it had been up to him, he would have let it sink into the abyss, but it's a gift from the emperors and doing so would mean causing them a grave offence, so Marcus keeps it there in his villa.

“I don’t like it. That’s not me,” Acacius confesses to you with a sad sigh.

“Instead, it’s beautiful. I mean, you are beautiful, not the statue. The statue is an object. You are here and you are real.” You tell him, catching his attention and making him smile slightly. You are sincere and this is a rare and unique quality.

“Thank you for your words. It means a lot to me.” he tells you, making to take your hand in a completely spontaneous gesture, but you pull away almost scared and so he desists, clearing his throat “Sorry.”

You shake slowly, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be rude, but...” you say, tightening your cloak.

“Don’t worry. I’ll call my servant now who will help you take a hot bath, help you dry off, and then help you find a dress that fits you,” the man informs you.

“Maybe I can do it myself,” you suggest as the man starts walking again. “I don’t want to disturb you or anyone else.”

Marcus smiles. Again.

“It’s a joy to help you and even if I don’t agree, slaves are there for this, to do what we don’t do.”

“If you don’t share, why don’t you free them?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you pause in the hallway.

“It’s complicated. Wait here. I’ll send someone to help you.” He says, giving you one last look. “See you later.”

You didn't think that potion would hurt you so much, your throat felt like it was closing up, you almost felt like you were suffocating, then your legs started to shake, you did everything you could to resist and not give in, in the end the pain got the better of you and you fainted.

Finding Marcus, the man for whom you did all this, fills you with joy when you wake up, even if you haven't been able to express it as you would have liked.

You immediately felt overwhelmed by a myriad of emotions, enthusiasm and fear at the same time, his hands are so warm, calloused, big, you can feel them full of cuts, who knows if they were inflicted in battle... just as you are thinking this, a terrifying image appears before your eyes, he’s covered in blood, there’s a large cut right next to one eyebrow from which blood is gushing, he has in his hands a sword also stained with blood. He’s lying on the ground on what looks like sand, you see him breathing heavily and then that terrible scene disappears as it appeared. The General looks at you perplexed, while you are shaken by the shivers and fear of what you have just seen.

He’s so kind, so hospitable, it seems impossible to reconcile his sweetness with the violent image that has just appeared before your eyes or those you have seen previously.

His servants are very polite and curious, they insistently ask you where you are from as your accent is unknown to them. You procrastinate, asking now about this, now about that. As they explain to you the various things that surround you and their usefulness, you realize that what you have read or your aunt's words have not fully conveyed what you are seeing and feeling. It's all much more.

A maid insists on braiding your hair into a high bun, but you protest so much and avoid that thing she calls a comb that in the end you give up and leave it loose. She also wanted to make you wear a dress that was the color of the sea, but instead you were struck by another one that was white like sea foam.

When you're finally alone, you walk over to your bed and sink into it. Oh, it's so soft and warm. Your bed at home was a giant oyster, it was nice and cozy, but this on earth is much better!

You open and close your eyes several times, you feel exhausted, but happy. You are under his roof, you have spoken to him, he knows you exist. These are already steps forward. You smile, sighing and relaxing completely, when you open your eyes again the light coming from the candles is very dim, you have fallen into a deep sleep.

You've never slept so much, you wonder if this isn't also an effect of your aunt Mira's potion. You sit down placing your hands on your thighs and then your knees, you have no pain and this is also a sign that the potion is working. Not that you doubted it, but it all still seems so incredible to you!

You look out of one of the many windows in your room, you pull aside the delicate curtain and observe the moon and the many stars that surround it, you are as if enraptured by it, at least until you realize that your room looks out onto the gardens of General Acacius' villa where the statue dedicated to him dominates.

You turn and look at the vial prepared by your aunt and drink a few drops of the potion, as per her instructions, then you decide to hide the vial under the bed in a hidden corner between the wall and the bed so that no one can find it.

Once this is done, you decide to go out and let yourself be caressed by the light wind of that evening, you feel light and yet your heart is heavy as if gripped by a strange sensation. Probably the images that first appeared before your eyes just disturbed you a lot.

You hear footsteps, fast, a very small child with blond curls crying runs in your direction, immediately behind him you see what you imagine is his mother followed by three other women behind them still Acacius.

“Hi,” you greet the red-faced, crying-eyed boy. He stops and looks at you, and you kneel down in front of him, “you’re beautiful, you know? What’s your name?”

“Fas - us,” the little one barks.

You raise your head towards the woman behind the little boy, the woman must be a few years older than you. She has brown hair tied in a braid and the clothes of someone who works in the kitchen judging by the stains, “My lady,” she says to you softly, “his name is Faustus, he's small and cannot yet say it clearly.”

You nod and then smile at the little one, “You really have a beautiful name. Why are you crying?”

“My lady,” the woman intervenes again, “he misses his father.”

“Oh.” you say in a sad whisper “Come here,” you say to the little one, gently holding his little body to yours, “you know, when I was little, I didn't have a dad either. I only had my mother, then when I grew up he came back.” you tell him, while the little one rubs his eyes “Do you want to hear a little song my mother always sang to me when I was little?”

He nods.

You smile and the sweet words, full of hope, love, happiness of your mother's song float in the air enchanting the little one for about a couple of minutes, when you look up, you notice how everyone was fascinated and speechless when they heard that melody. Acacius has a strange light in his eyes, but you don't feel danger or threat, but rather dying to know you, curiosity. His lips then curve upwards and you smile sweetly back.

Little Faustus unexpectedly throws his arms around your neck and for a moment you are paralyzed before returning his sweet embrace.

“My lady,” the woman says, “forgive him, he’s not usually this open with strangers.” She apologizes.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. He's beautiful,” you say, placing a hand on the baby’s little back and closing your eyes, relaxing against his little body.

After a few minutes the baby's breathing normalizes until he moves away from you, you dry a couple of tears that are still wetting his little face and smile at him, he smiles back showing you his tiny teeth making your smile wider.

“My lady, thank you for what you have done,” the woman says, placing her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Faustus, say thank you.”

“Tk you.” he says making you smile.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” you say getting up, while the mother takes the little one by the hand and they walk away followed by the other two women.

You followed them with your gaze, turning in their direction, then you heard a sad sigh behind you and Marcus' slow footsteps approaching you.

“It's a sad story about Faustus and his mother,” the man reveals to you, appearing at your side and keeping his gaze towards the corridor where the group has headed.

“What story?” you ask, your gaze wandering from the man to the hallway.

He hums sadly and then turns his gaze to you, observes your face for a few seconds and then with a serious look he answers you, “I don’t want to disturb your first night, um… You didn’t tell me your name yet.”

You tell him and he repeats it with such sweetness that it seems like music to your ears. You smile at each other.

“Do you want something to eat? Not knowing what you like, I had you prepare meat, fish, fruit, wine... in short, I hope you'll like something.” he tells you, slightly raising his shoulders as if he felt uncomfortable.

You nod, slightly raising the corners of your mouth upwards.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, pointing to a door behind him with his open palm in a gesture as if to say ladies first.

Marcus can't help but look at your face, your curious eyes zigzagging from one corner to another of the many rooms you pass through until you reach the triclinium, your hands caress and touch everything around you with curiosity. Your eyes seem to see so many things only now for the first time and your beauty touches the divine.

Where do you come from?

Such is your beauty that Marcus can't help but think that you are as beautiful, perfect and unattainable as the gods.

Yes, you must be a goddess sent there by him to enchant and conquer him and he's very happy to be enchanted by your beauty, your voice and the sweetness that shines through in your ways and gestures, as sweet as they are innocent.

“You have a beautiful voice, I've never heard anyone sing like that,” Marcus tells you, as you turn an apple over in your hands curiously, then smell it and smile “It’s an apple,” he adds as if wanting to help you.

You smile sweetly at him, placing the apple back in the basket you took it from, “I know, but I’ve never smelled it before.”

He hums, “I know nothing about you.” The man begins, sitting down on the triclinium “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

“I don’t even know where to start,” you say and from the look on your face and your suddenly downcast eyes, Acacius can tell that you really don’t know what to say to him. You are not lying or stalling for time on how to answer him.

“You told the little one first that you grew up with your mother and then your father came back, is that a true story?” he asks you looking at your face and when you look up he sees them full of a veiled sadness.

“No, or rather that’s how I would have liked it to be. I mean, my mother died when I was about six of your age…” Acacius frowns “I meant six years, I’m tired, sorry.” He nods although he remains perplexed by your statement.

Is it possible that you really are what he saw: a sea creature? He has read about the existence of such creatures, but... No, that's impossible!

He shakes his head as if to rid himself of this absurd thought, “I'm sorry. What about your father?”

You tsk, you shake your head, “He was and still is an overprotective father. He has prevented me from doing so many things in my life.” you say in a bitter tone, then you frown and he follows your gaze, you are looking almost with disgust or perhaps sadness at the prawns or blue fish placed in beautiful ceramic bowls garnished with spices.

“What is it?” he asks you, not understanding your expression.

"Why are you doing this?"

Acacius is perplexed, “Do what?”

“Kill fish, they are defenseless creatures. They did not harm you.” you reply looking him in the eye with disappointment.

“Um, we have to feed ourselves. We would die.” he answers you in a matter-of-fact tone “We don’t do it for fun. Well, some people kill deer or other animals for fun, but mostly to survive.”

You look down, pressing your lips into a straight line, for a few minutes you don't speak, then you speak again, “I’m sorry, I overreacted. Um, you’re… very kind and… it’s so hard for me to reconcile this sweet version of you with the General I saw a while back.”

Marcus sighs, “I don't always like being the General, but I am. And I have duties to perform, sometimes I do things I'm not proud of at all. You know, sometimes it really costs me to be that way.” he confides in you, lowering his head and putting aside the armor he has always used to shield himself during all these years of his life. When he raises his head, he sees you sit down next to him and, in such a sweet and spontaneous gesture, rest your head on his shoulder.

No one had ever done it. No one had ever dared to be so close to him, everyone - he knows it well - fears him, not as much as they fear the Emperors, but he knows that his often hard gaze and his piercing eyes tend to keep everyone away.

“You’re such a sweet creature.” The words come from his heart. Marcus turns his head, “You know, I never get around anyone more than necessary.” he confesses to you by sticking his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent which - perhaps it's just his suggestion - smells of iodine and other perfumes he's never smelled before.

“It’s because you’re a contradictory human,” you reply. “You want someone by your side, but at the same time you keep everyone away.” you just move away from him “You’re scared. Even if you hide it well.”

The man misses a beat when he hears those words and in front of your gaze that seems to read him so deeply, almost scaring him, he who has faced armies and peoples with courage, he who stands up to Emperors albeit politely, is afraid. He doesn't know if it's you or what you were able to bring to light in a few hours, revealing it to his own eyes and intuiting it while spending such a short time with him.

“You are… um, amazing. Yes, I think that’s the right word,” he says, smiling slowly at you. “No one has ever spoken to me like that. Not even my own subordinates.”

“Well, I’m not your subordinate, Marcus,” you reply, smiling at him.

“Do I seem bold to you, if... well, if I tell you that you are beautiful?” your expression changes, but you don't lose your smile, you shake your head slowly, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman like you.” You lower your gaze in a split section. “Intuitive, sweet, captivating.” Acacius sighs, “You must be starving, while I look like… well, I want to hit on you.”

You frown, “Hit on me? What does that mean?”

The man smiles as if touched by your innocence, “You don't know anything at all, do you?”

After eating and saying a few words here and there about what this or what that thing is, Marcus — not at all tired or annoyed by your presence, on the contrary more and more curious by your originality — offers you a walk along the seashore.

The sun's rays are getting weaker, the sand is cool at your feet and Marcus for the first time in years and years indulges himself in the luxury of being able to take off that armor that he always wore it with pride, but which from time to time weighs like a millstone. He tells you about himself like he never did before, he even finds himself confiding in you about episodes of his childhood and early adolescence and you smile at him, in that light your eyes seem to shine with pure magic.

Being with you makes him feel lighter. And he likes it. Until then, being with others had been limited to when someone gave him orders or when he himself ordered others to carry out what had been planned for the conquest of this or that land. You're not asking him for anything, you don't want anything. He still hasn't understood why you're there and why with someone like him, but for the first time he chooses not to ask questions, but to accept your mysterious presence as a gift.

You answer a few more of his questions, not because he doesn't have any, but because after so much time he can finally speak freely and not about politics, not about interests, not about the Empire, but about himself and Rome never gives space to all this. You do it and you're a breath of fresh air in his life.

“Marcus?” you say. “Can I ask you something?”

If you look at him that way, you can ask for anything and he will give it to you.

“Tell me.”

“What’s the story of Faustus?” you ask him.

He sighs sadly, “As I told you before, his is a sad story. His mother, Iulia, and her mother were slaves and served the Emperor Septimius Severus. He also treated them well all in all, Iulia grew up knowing what her role was and therefore she learned to stay in her place. In short, she’s a slave and then women... have no freedom of speech or thought.”

“Why?” you ask him and he looks at you.

You are not really a creature of this world!

“Unfortunately, this is how our society works. Men are in charge.”

“And you agree?” you ask him.

He watches the ripples of the sea, “Come let's sit here.” he says to you, stopping not far from the entrance of his villa and sitting on the now completely cold sand. Marcus watches the light summer wind caress your long hair and move it slightly, he then watches the now dark horizon “No. I don't agree at all. You women are everything to this society, you make such an important contribution and not only for the most obvious reason, but you are intelligent, charismatic, and sometimes gifted with an unrivaled wit.”

Marcus really thinks it, he's not just saying it, he really believes it.

“Returning to Iulia, well.. her mother died shortly after the death of the Emperor, he was succeeded by the current Emperors Caracalla and Geta.” Marcus takes a break “They reign according to their own rules and according to their own personal enjoyment, as to this last aspect, well the young Iulia became the object of desire of the young Caracalla and one evening...” Marcus feels his throat tighten as he tells this story out loud, but you asked what the story of the boy you just met is and so he decides to tell you the whole story “he raped her and she got pregnant.” he hears you holding your breath “His brother Geta covered up what his brother had done and so he entrusted young Iulia to me, taking her away from his brother.”

“And the boy?” you ask him. “Does he know that...?”

“Of course not! His mother told him that his father is away and will return one day, but of course that will never happen.” he explains it to you again and then takes a long, very long break.

“Don’t you like them?” you ask him naively.

“Quiet, sweet girl!” he admonishes you looking around with a worried expression and you imitate his looking around and then find yourself eye to eye with him again “Never, and I mean never, speak ill of them.”

You frown, “What would happen?”

He holds his breath, “You’d die. Whoever opposes them, dies. One way or another.” he replies and your eyes widen in disbelief or probably scared to learn this “I serve them whether I want to or not. I have no say in the matter.” You frown without taking your eyes off his contrite face “Did you think it was different for men?”

“I thought that since you were a General you could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted,” you admit with a shrug.

He smiles, “It's not that simple,” he's about to take your hand, but then thinks better of it, he doesn't know if you'd like such a touch from him “We men, although we are certainly freer than you women, are still part of Rome and Rome sometimes sucks you in, eats you alive day after day and then spits you out if you are no longer useful.” he sees you swallow and slowly bring your legs closer to your chest “Sometimes I feel like that. Eaten up and then spat out like I don't even have a heart or feelings.” he adds in a murmur.

“Marcus, oh Marcus.” you say and he turns around looking at your saddened face “Why don’t you go away?”

He chuckles, but it's not a happy chuckle, on the contrary. “You know,” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “with you I'm breathing again after a long, long time and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reminding me that I am a person before a General.” you smile at him, but he senses that it's an embarrassed smile from this contact so he moves his hand away and places it on his lap “This is who I am. I can neither fight it nor escape from this role.”

You nod and then fearfully place a hand on his, “I wish I could do more for you,” you say, your breath shaking. It's like you're afraid to touch him... why?

“You do, you're already doing it, you know?”

“Really?”

Marcus nods, “You really are the sweetest creature in the world.” He pauses. “I wonder why you chose me, why you're here.” The man sees your skin crease. “Are you cold?”

You shake your head, moving your hand away from him and placing it on your thigh with your head down.

“There's something you're not telling me, right?” You look up and stare into his dark eyes for a long moment before slowly nodding “I already knew that.” You swallow “But, whatever it is,” Marcus gently strokes your arm, “it’s fine with me. You make me human.” your smile widens as if you find what he just said funny “Seriously,” the man insists, “and thank you for listening to me. Your sweetness warms my heart for the first time. You know,” he starts staring at the now completely dark horizon again “the Emperors want me to get married.” he confides in you “I’m not afraid, but I’m forced to do what I don’t want. That’s why, as I told you, you are never completely free even though you are a man.”

You, unexpectedly again, rest your head on his shoulder and this time make an extra gesture that on one hand stops him for a moment, but on the other hand it makes his heart beat so fast, you reach out a hand towards his and squeeze it, intertwining your fingers with his.

If Marcus could, he would marry you.

The next day, you are awakened by the cawing of seagulls and a soft light that filters through the thin curtains that flutter in the summer wind.

You stretch with a smile, sitting in the center of the bed, placing a hand on your legs in a gesture as if to check that they are still there and that you are not dreaming of having them.

So, you wake up humming to yourself ready to live this new day. You don't know what to expect or if Marcus will be there by your side.

Marcus... you think about how sad and lonely his life has been, he has glory and power, but he’s completely alone. No one really rejoices with him, no one talks to him.

For him to confide in you, who have been in his life for less than a day, means that he desperately needed to talk and be heard by someone, anyone, you.

There's a knock at the door, you turn around to see the door open and Iulia enters the room, “Oh, my lady, are you already up?!” she exclaims surprise holding in her hands a tray full of fruit and bread with a strange semi-shiny substance spread on it.

“Iulia?” you call her.

“My lady?”

“Don’t call me that, it makes me uncomfortable,” you tell her, shrugging and revealing your name. She looks at you sympathetically as she places the tray on a table in the center of your room.

“I’m not allowed to do that. The General was very clear,” she replies softly.

You nod, “He treats you well.” It's not a question, it's a statement, she looks at you almost scared “Don't be afraid.” You reassure her by moving closer to her and placing a hand on her shoulder as a sign of understanding and affection and at that moment a series of violent images appear before your eyes: it's Iulia, she's younger, she cries, she's the victim of increasingly cruel pranks by two blond boys, then another cruel and terrifying image appears before your eyes, she’s held tightly by the wrists and then you see a young man with blond curly hair leaning over her, she screams, then the image disappears and another image appears before your eyes of one of the two young blond boys rudely handing over Iulia to a younger Acacius.

You jump, “Are you all right, my lady?” Iulia asks you, noticing your shocked expression. “Do you want a hot bath? You're shaking.” she adds worriedly.

“No. No. I'm fine. Thank you.” You reply, shaking your head as if to erase those images. You don't dare to imagine what it was like to actually live those scenes.

Poor Iulia...

“Come, I'll help you undress, my lady.” Iulia insists, walking towards your bed. You let her take off your nightgown, “You have beautiful skin, if I can dare, my lady.” You smile, but you don’t know what to say to her.

You think about how much she suffered in undergoing what she experienced, but above all in having to also raise a child who is kid out of...

You sigh, maybe your father is right about one thing: humans are strange creatures and some are truly dangerous.

“My lady, did you rest well?” she asks you again kindly.

You give a small smile, “Yes, thank you. I don't think I've ever slept so soundly.”

Iulia helps you clean up before getting ready for the bath. The water smells wonderful, “What is that smell?” you ask curiously.

“It’s lavender, my lady. Do you like it?” she asks as she helps you not to slip while getting into the tub.

“Yes,” you hum closing your eyes.

“Today is a beautiful day. The sun is high in the sky, thanking the god Apollo.” she claims moving away just enough to give you some privacy, but remaining in the same room as you.

In this sudden pleasant silence that envelops you and the woman, you hear a sudden hubbub under your window, then horses in the distance and finally Marcus' deep voice echoing in the peristylium.

Iulia is the first to slowly approach the window, you hear her footsteps and then you almost feel her holding her breath. You turn in her direction and notice the paleness on her face, “Are you okay, Iulia?” you ask her worriedly.

“Oh, yes,” she says hastily. “Come on, I’ll help you.” she adds, offering her hands to help you get out without any problems. She wraps you in a soft towel and pats you dry, “Let me do it.” she adds again when you do the same to dry your skin from the water.

“What’s wrong?” you ask her as she gently massages away the excess water. “Why has your skin turned so white?” you ask her still not understanding what happened.

“Nothing, my lady.” she says, but from the tone of her voice you understand that something that is troubling her must have happened, even if you don't know what it is yet “Come, I'll help you get dressed.” she adds in a sad whisper. She helps you cover your breasts and womanhood with some bands, then she makes you wear a dress as thin as seaweed, light as you and your sisters and all the mermaids and newts when you swim down there in the depths of the sea.

“You are enchanting, my lady.” She adds again with a small smile that curves her lips upwards, but it’s not a happy smile, her head is still lost in who knows what thought. She combs your hair and then lets it fall loose over your shoulders and down your back, “Why don’t you eat something before you go to the General?” she suggests.

“I’m not hungry,” you reply, shrugging.

“But my lady, you need to eat a little.” She insists, holding out the tray and looking at you with hopeful eyes that you will listen to her.

“You're a good person, Iulia. Thank you. I'll eat later.” You insist, sticking to your opinion about wanting to reach the man and let this new day begin.

You put on some strange shoes that are very comfortable, then you head towards the door, opening it and going out. The air is quite warm that day and you feel it too even though your body temperature is not the same as humans, but it doesn't matter.

As you pass by, you notice other servants busy doing their household chores, stopping to half bow and say my lady. You feel uncomfortable, no one, not even at the bottom of the sea, has ever shown you such respect. And yet, your father is the king of the sea!

Who knows if he has found out where you are and what he is doing, who knows if your sisters are thinking of you and wondering why you made this decision! You miss them, but you don't regret your choice.

When you reach the room that Marcus called triclinium, you hear two voices talking animatedly. One is the General, the other you don't know who belongs to. You hide behind a thick marble column and listen to what they say. You lean forward just enough to give a face to the second voice as well and you immediately recognize the face you saw when you touched Iulia: it's one of the two Emperors, the one who entrusted the young slave to Acacius. His features are not unpleasant, but there is something in his gaze and a glint in his eyes that unsettles you to the core, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I know that Augusta Lucilla was your guest recently,” says the Emperor.

“Yes, that’s right,” Acacius confirms, his tone extremely cold and controlled, so different from the one he used with you just a few hours earlier.

“So? Have you discussed the terms of your union?”

Acacius swallows and his dark eyes seem to grow even darker like the stormy sea, “Yes.”

“And?” asks the young man again, sitting on one of the triclinia with an impatient air to know who knows what details of the matter.

“We will be husband and wife, with this union everything will be under control.” Marcus answers hastily keeping his head down as if feeling uncomfortable with all these questions.

“Good.” the boy comments again, then adds “There's someone spying on us!” You hide behind a column feeling caught red-handed “I don't like people who spy on me.” he adds again, but his tone of voice seems amused, then silence follows and finally you are surrounded on one side by Marcus who looks at you surprised and also a little annoyed and on the other side there is the Emperor who lets his gaze wander from your face then along your figure and then states “You have a new slave, Acacius! She’s beautiful.”

You swallow, seeking Marcus's eyes, who gives you a silent look before answering the ruler, “She’s my guest. She is not a slave.”

“Oh, right! She's too beautiful to be a slave." he notes with a little grimace "So, why did you keep her from me? She could have joined us. If nothing else, she would have been much more pleasant to look at than you!” he exclaims with a smirk. “Where does this beautiful creature come from?” he asks, looking at you, but waiting for an answer from the General.

You hope with all your heart that the man would lie about how you met, you are not sure that the boy in front of you can accept an answer as the truth that you came from the sea.

“From the East.” Acacius lies. You look into his eyes again, feeling relieved by this lie.

“Oh, I see.” he comments “That's why you're delaying the wedding, now I got it!” he exclaims smiling mischievously “It was worth it, I hope” he adds without taking his eyes off you “I'd like to hang out with her too.” He chuckles, hinting at who knows what.

Acacius is now visibly tense. His features are hard, his expression is cold and tense, his jaw clenched and his chest puffed out. You didn't quite understand what the Emperor was referring to, but Marcus did and he must not have liked it.

“Are you doubting my honor and integrity?” Marcus asks, clenching his jaw tighter.

“Oh no, come on General, I don't think it's appropriate to react like this!” exclaims the emperor smiling at him, but Marcus doesn't smile back, “Oh, you’re so boring!” he adds, huffing, then smiling at you.

“I beg your pardon, the gods gave you and your brother the wisdom to know when it is time to be serious or not.” Marcus replies through his teeth with a sarcastic smile.

You try to hold back your emotions by masking them by looking down at your feet. Then you look up again, observing Marcus' features that have become so hard and cold and the softer ones of the Emperor who has lost his smile upon hearing the General's words.

“I hope your guest is at least more inclined to smile.” You look at the man’s dark eyes. “And I hope your beautiful guest has a name, too.”

“She is…” Marcus is about to answer for you, but the Emperor silences him.

“I want to hear her voice. She can speak, right?”

You have to say something since the two men's eyes are fixed on you, you nod, “Of course.”

The boy clenches his jaw slightly, lifting his chin slightly upwards, “Your voice is enchanting and your beauty overshadows your insolence.” he smiles “I am Geta. One of the two emperors of Rome.” he finally introduces himself “I'm sure we'll get along great, um.. what's your name, my lady?”

You respond by telling him your name and he repeats it before licking his lower lip in a slow motion as if he were about to taste the most succulent of dishes. This man — Geta — makes you feel uncomfortable just with a look, it seems like a curious and innocent look, but deep down you feel that he’s not as innocent as he wants you to believe.

“I'd be happy to have a word with your guest, General. If that's okay with you.” He wants to sound sweet and hospitable, but the light in his eyes seems anything but innocent.

Marcus gives you the look of someone who wants to say something, but can't do anything.

“Oh, and General Acacius have wine and food brought for your beautiful guest too so she can celebrate your union with Augusta Lucilla. Has our beloved General told you about his impending wedding?” he asks, looking at your eyes as if wanting to notice any reactions of displeasure on your part.

You just nod with a hint of a smile, “Yeah, I was just surprised to hear that marriage isn’t based on love.” Geta gives you a surprised and intrigued look. “So, isn’t marriage based on this?” you ask, your gaze wandering from the Emperor’s curious face to the General’s much more tense one.

"Yours is a very interesting guest." comments the first "To answer your question, no. Not always. Mostly unions are unions of interest, politics. And the wedding of our brave General is one of them.” he concludes by patting Marcus on the shoulder who shrugs his shoulders assuming an expression so hard that it almost scares you, but it doesn't discourage or inspire fear in the Emperor who instead seems amused by this reaction "I must leave you now, I have other matters to attend to. I await further communication from you, General. Once this matter is settled, Rome will need to expand further. I want everything to be perfectly under control.”

Acacius clenches his jaw and simply places his fist at chest height and bows his head in respect and greeting towards the young man who, after giving him one last look, turns to you taking your hand and you jump when at that moment some images appear to you in which the Emperor has a lot of make-up on his eyes, he shouts something towards a noisy audience and there, in the middle of what looks like an arena, Acacius, bleeding and wounded, prepares to face some heavily armed men, then another image where Geta is among men dressed in white sitting on chairs, he speaks with great passion of betrayal, then in a last vision there is you, you are in what seems to be a prison and you are wearing a half-torn white dress, you are scared, you can feel your own fear and pain, you are turning into a mermaid again.

You pull your hand away in fear, “I apologize, I don’t feel well. Um, I’m going to my rooms,” you announce, leaving both men behind, who are surely still watching you.

When you are sure that Geta is gone, you leave your rooms and head to a cliff behind the villa. The wind has become stronger and the smell of the sea more intense. You wonder if the images you saw are real or if it is your own fear that others might discover the truth that is showing them to you so vividly.

“You’re here.” You hear Marcus’ warm, husky voice. “I thought you were asleep.”

You shake your head without turning in his direction, “No.”

He reaches you and comes alongside, for a while neither you nor he say anything, there is the incessant sound of the sea in the background. You think back to the fate that awaits the General, a union without love.. then you think back to when you saw him bloodied and fighting so ferociously just to survive.

“I’m sorry if the emperor upset you. He’s… that’s the way he is. He enjoys upsetting others, he takes this strange pleasure.”

You nod, “Your world is quite complicated. I thought you were exaggerating, but…” a shiver runs down your spine “The Emperor, Geta, has something in his gaze that has horrified me to the core.” you confide “He is so superficial, so devoid of humanity and he hides it behind that seraphic appearance that the gods have given him.” you add in a barely audible whisper to Acacius.

You feel something covering your shoulders and you almost jump, it's just Marcus placing his cloak on your shoulders. You look at him with a grateful but also sad look, “Why does he want you to marry at all costs? What does he gain from it?”

Marcus lifts one corner of his mouth in a small smirk, “He... well, um no I have to tell you everything from the start.” You listen to every word the man says and the more you listen the more the emperor seems absolutely crazy, you roll your eyes several times and you find yourself opening your mouth in shock.

When he finishes you look down and clutch his cloak, “I’m sorry I upset you. Again.” he says in a sorry and bitter tone, “But all that glitters is not gold.”

You shake your head slowly, “No, I’m glad you confided in me.” You look at him, “You’re a wonderful person, Marcus.” This time it’s his turn to lower his head. How you wish you could lift him out of all this, you wish he was happy! “How I wish your life was simple and happy!” you tell him and this time he looks up exchanging a knowing smile with you.

“Tonight, do you want to come with me to Rome? I want you to see more than just my life. I can’t guarantee that you’ll like everything you see, but you’ll certainly have a broader vision.”

“If I’m with you, that’s fine,” you reply.

He gives you such a sweet smile that warms your heart and makes it beat.

The magnificence of Rome envelops, conquers and scares every time. Marcus can't help but observe the amazement in your eyes, the smile that appears when you notice something special or extravagant.

You are in front of him, your hands on the cart to hold yourself up. He is right behind you, holding the reins of the horse. Every now and then you look up at him and ask him what this or that is and he answers your ear giving a name to everything you see as you pass by.

When the chariot stops, he gets out first, then gives you his hands to get out, you get out with a little hop, observing first the man and then what is around you.

The people have prepared huge bonfires around which they prepare food, some dance and others sing hymns to Hades so that he can help them always have food and with the hope that one day they or their descendants will enjoy some of the wealth enjoyed by the upper classes.

Acacius has always participated in these events, he tried to do everything he could for the people by sharing that little bit of wealth that he himself enjoyed and for this he’s much loved by all the people. In fact, he's one of the few men who is not frowned upon or thrown rotten food as he passes by; rather, they bless him and thank him. This evening is no exception.

Marcus immediately receives a glass of wine which he offers to you as a sign of gallantry, then takes another. You both drink, smiling at each other, and in the firelight your eyes and your smile bewitch him. Your joy, your dance, your laughter, your dragging him into those dances envelop him and ensnare him until he forgets, at least for those hours, his role and the burden that weighs on his shoulders.

You brought so much joy and lightness into his heart, you brought serenity and enthusiasm into a difficult and heavy life like his, you brought the love that was missing in his life.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ellooo! Can I maybe request THH students aka the competitors of the killing game meeting pokemon Violet/scarlet trainer Y/n because a worm hole brought them in the killing game? Maybe they have some legendaries that help atleast make sure monokuma doesn’t pressure them all so maybe no killing? Maybe Y/n could offer they’re Pokémon as therapy animals and maybe hold “mock” Pokémon battles with the others by like giving them a Pokémon of theyres so they can try out battling! :3 I hope you have a nice January!

Thank you! Hope your January is good to you, too! For reference I'll leave the team vague (except for Mewtwo and Porygon Z for plot reasons), but they still have access to others they've captured in the Paldea/Kitakami/BB regions

I'll just do a few characters to help me ease back into writing the og Danganronpa series (which I haven't written for in like 5 years apparently????????)

............

General

You weren't sure why the wormhole ever opened to begin with.

Maybe there was still some instability within Area Zero despite the time machine being long gone, or perhaps something else decided to open up a pocket in the universe.

But regardless, it dropped you off inside of a school.

Not Naranja/Uva or BB Academy, but a much different school that had an ominous atmosphere hanging over it.

You quickly meet the other students there after being summoned to the gym, discovering that they all woke up here, too.

They didn't know anything about each other---nor did they know anything about Pokémon when one asked about your "Ultimate" (which you soon learn is your talent).

From what they understood, you tamed animals and made them fight other people's animals, which....seemed a little concerning.

But before you could explain any further, Monokuma shows up to announce the killing game.

Immediately, you take it upon yourself to defeat him, so you send out Mewtwo to destroy the bear--who self-destructs in response, but fortunately they're able to put up a psychic shield in time as he reprimands you for attacking the headmaster.

Your Legendary's appearance shocks every student there, realizing that these "animals" of yours actually possess magic and are 100% not of this world.

Whatever any of them believed before was thrown out the window.

Given your unexpected arrival (and the fact you were pretty much untouchable thanks to your team), Monokuma won't be able to enforce the killing game as much as he liked to--although he thinks someone's gonna eventually kill somebody.

While the gate couldn't be breached, you and the other students try to accept living within the school, certain there was another way out.

He still tries handing out the first motive, only for your Porygon-Z to corrupt every video so that nobody felt pressured to kill.

But while everybody was at first wary of you and your powerful Pokémon team, they've grown to trust you, even considering you a leader.

You have no idea how to return to your world, so you might as well stay here and form friendships with these people.

Makoto

He was the first student you met...and the first to make you realize something was incredibly different about this school.

But after you saved everyone in the gym from having to worry about killing, he became more curious about you and your team.

Since nobody knew about Pokémon battling, you decide to pass the time by become a teacher to all who were willing to learn!

Makoto was first in line, of course.

You still had access to your PC, and after getting it hooked up to the computer system (with help from Chihiro), you lend him an Eevee for practice, bringing out one of your fighting 'mons to teach him about type advantages.

"So I just...give them a command, and they'll listen?"

"Yep. That's all! I'll let you try first."

On the sidelines, Monokuma vouched to have the loser get executed--but ofc nobody listens to him.

Makoto genuinely enjoyed the mock battle, as his luck allowed him to land several critical hits on your Pokémon.

Afterwards, you introduce him to a Shiny Eevee, and during your free time, he's surprised to hear about your harrowing tales of shiny hunting.

"Your talent would work pretty well where I come from," you remark. "Because these guys are super rare to find in the wild."

"That's pretty cool. So what's your strategy? Do you camp out for a few days in the wilderness or...?"

"No. I kinda just run around until I find one. But sometimes, I'll be getting chased by some angry Pokémon who don't like me being on their turf...and in my panic, I'll stumble across a shiny."

"Hahaha..I can picture that happening to me with my kind of luck." He chuckles, now unable to get the image of you running from an angry Eevee mob out of his head.

Ishimaru

Despite witnessing your Mewtwo's heroic act in the gym, Taka still sees them as an animal that shouldn't be walking around inside a school, feeling obligated to enforce that rule when he catches you two going to get snacks.

"Excuse me, but pets are NEVER allowed inside the cafeteria!!"

"I thought I already explained that they're not a "pet", Ishimaru." You and Mewtwo stare at the prefect. "At my school, we're allowed to have our Pokémon out as long as they're not a distraction."

"Well...this is a different school in case you haven't noticed! So different rules apply here! Now please put your Mewtwo back in that little contraption-"

"A pokeball?"

"Yes! The poke-ball!"

"....and who are you gonna tell if I don't?" You grin smugly, watching him draw a blank. "Surely not Monokuma, who's been keeping us hostage here, right?"

Taka freezes up, but after remembering that you basically stopped a potential murder from taking place...he relents and stops bothering you about keeping your Pokémon away (though he's still not happy about it).

He was appalled at your suggestion of having "violent" battles in the gym--to which you reassure him nothing's gonna get destroyed, as they're only mock battles.

He watches a few, nervous whenever the Pokémon on either side faint or take heavy damage.

Then one day (post-sauna), he stops by your room and asks if he could try it for himself, admitting that he's been taking notes on the sidelines and wants to be tested.

He was craving new knowledge and decided that if Pokemon was the only "study" available, he'll accept it.

Delighted, you let him train with a Charcadet. You haven't decided what armor to give them yet, but they were still quite strong with their bold nature.

The two immediately get along and battle quite well, although when Taka loses, he feels terrible and tries going over what he could have messed up on.

You remind him that battling was supposed to be fun, but you give him an A+ for having the same passion and vigor as an experienced trainer--which lifts his spirits.

You decide to let him keep Charcadet for the time being, noticing how they've been picking up his attitude, discouraging other Pokemon from causing trouble or mischief within the school.

Mondo

After learning about his Ultimate, you just knew you had to show off a Shiny Cyclizar that you've caught.

But he takes one look at them.....and laughs.

"No way, you're telling me people can ride that wimpy little lizard????"

"...yes. And this "wimp" can actually reach up to speeds 70 MPH. They've been around for longer than you, I, and your precious motorcycle have been alive." You remark, which makes the biker shut up for the moment.

He wishes he could have his motorcycle just to race you and prove himself better, but he takes your word for it after you climb on Cyclizar's back and run a lap around the gym.

If you have a Miraidon, his jealousy would be shot to the maximum because your motorcycle-lizard is not only 100% robot but they can shoot electricity AND fly????

That's so badass it should be illegal.

If you have a Koraidon, he might have a brief confrontation with them after they assume their Apex form, believing he was threatening you.

Luckily, you quickly recalled them before he could even try throwing a punch.

But since battling interested him, you let him practice with that same Shiny Cyclizar...only for him to discover that they won't listen to any of his commands.

You intended to teach him a lesson about respecting Pokémon, since he hasn't apologized for insulting them--but he didn't understand and thought you were lying about the moves you taught them.

But eventually, you get it through his thick skull and he yells out an apology, which Cyclizar seems to accept as they use Scale Shot-

Only for to miss your Pokémon all five times, making him fume as you mention accuracy as another aspect of battling.

Least to say....Mondo is extremely competitive and acted like a sore loser when you, a champion-ranked trainer, beat him.

But he got over it eventually, and you let him keep the Cyclizar, who did forgive him and gladly kept him company.

Aoi

While you were talking about the different Pokémon types, of course the Ultimate Swimmer would be most interested in the water types.

So you let her browse your PC for some time.

Lapras and (surprisingly) Aqua Breed Tauros piqued her curiosity, asking you if she could train with them since you also mentioned having done double-battles.

Funny enough, those two had natures that subverted her expectations: the gentle-looking Lapras was rash and aggressive with their attacks, while the scary-looking Aqua Tauros was so timid they were outcasted from their herd.

Once they come out of the PC and Aoi gets to know them--they're basically her Pokémon forever now. Sorry.

She absolutely LOVES that they can join her in the pool! Even if Lapras can't swim around much, they still enjoy the water.

And Aqua Tauros' body fat allows them to float around without fear of sinking.

If you were to tell her that Lapras' species was nearly hunted to extinction, she'd prob tear up, but you'd then reassure her there's a lot of protection laws and their population has grown in abundance since.

When it comes time for the double battle, you send out some strong electric types of your own, just to see how well she'd do in the face of type disadvantages.

You didn't realize how closely Aoi bonded with Aqua Tauros until you used an attack that was normally a OHKO--only to see them still standing, having "toughened it out".

Turns out that her cheerful mood and encouragement have given the bull the confidence they needed.

Sakura

After watching your battle with Aoi, Sakura steps in and asks if she could see the Pokémon you have available.

You decide to show her the fighting types, and she immediately takes an interest in Urshifu, who you've had since your trip to Galar's Isle of Armor.

They remind her so much of her dojo, and felt inspired when you told her about the journey their previous evolution (Kubfu) went on to help them achieve their current form, whether it's Single or Rapid Strike Style.

The Legendary wants to learn more about her fighting styles--so the pair have a friendly sparring match with each other.

You worried about Urshifu hurting her with their move set, but they fortunately restrain from using anything dark/water/fighting-related powers.

That's a form of self-control you've never seen before in a Pokémon, but you're relieved (and impressed) when Sakura yields with only a few scratches.

Although she vowed to never lose to a human opponent, this doesn't count as Urshifu isn't exactly human.

You then introduce her to the Tyrogue line you've caught in the canyon biome (Tyrogue, Hitmonlee, Hitmontop, and Hitmonchan), and they're collectively awestruck after seeing her rematch Urshifu, wanting to learn her ways.

So she ends up being a teacher to them, and it's quite adorable seeing them all training together in a way that not just strengthens Sakura's own mind and body, but also theirs, too.

She's not too keen on using them to battle, as she sees them as their own individual who should have the choice to battle if they want.

But because you assured her they wanted to, she agrees and uses Urshifu while you sent out Iron Valiant, a fighter from the future--and despite the type disadvantage, she actually won and thoroughly shocked you.

[scoobydoomistakes]

Something caught in my eye, walkin' through a random office hallway.

Wait, is that– is that a photo… of a printed sign taped up…

…then printed out and taped up again… in a different spot?

So, naturally, I started taking a photo of it to show y'all.

So, naturally my brother took out his phone to take a photo of me taking a photo of the printed photo of the printed sign.

So, naturally I printed out a photo of the post of the photo of the photo of the printed photo of the printed sign.

…what's the maximum daily consumption of meta-ness before toxic levels build up in the bloodstream? Asking for a friend.

–Colin

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[syluss-littlecrow]

better than the devil

<sylus x fem!reader>

where you find out if Sylus really has horns, and why he avoids letting you touch them

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, size kink (i mean bro is PACKING), breeding kink, sylus’s horns are ✨sensitive✨, dirty talk, sexual tension, missionary, a fuck ton of horn play, horny horns, cumming untouched, orgams galore!, so much cum♡

w/c: 2.9K

a/n: gotta thank the loml @bro-atz for helping me with this a little ehehehe >:) I hope this destroyed yall as much as this destroyed me to write it!!🥹

They say he takes the form of some dragon-like creature—with large black horns and wings. 

The first time you witnessed it with your own two eyes was when he choked out a serpent wanderer ten times his size before it got to you. You were semi-conscious at that point of time, the fatigue threatening to take over, but you had caught a glimpse of his silhouette—two thick appendages that curled proudly past his dirty silver hair, and large wings that hung off his back—before you blacked out. 

“Staring at me isn’t going to get any of your curiosities satisfied”, Sylus snaps you out of your thoughts. Your gaze flickers to his face, but Sylus has his eyes on his phone. 

Then his gaze shifts to you. 

“What are you thinking about, sweetie?”

Of course, you couldn’t just tell him outright that you wanted to see him magically grow his horns out of his head. You doubt even Luke and Kieran have seen it themselves. 

“Your horns.”

Sylus lowers his phone onto his lap, then he cocks an eyebrow, which turns to a furrow in seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I grew horns?” He asks, his tone laced with mock and caution. His attention is fully on you now. 

Yeah, maybe that was not a good question to ask. Then again, being around someone as direct as Sylus had made you pick up his mannerisms quite a fair bit. 

“Nothing really”, you brush off, attempting to derail the conversation before something goes wrong. “I’m just curious.”

“Talk”, Sylus demands, albeit in a soft tone. “I’m listening.” 

His crimson eyes burn a hole into your head, and you now only realise the way he has you cornered on his couch, his large frame looming over yours. 

You sigh, realising he’s not about to let it go anytime soon. 

“A few weeks ago, during one of the battles we had, where I almost died-“

“Get to the point, sweetie”, Sylus cuts, seeing through your guise. 

You pout. “Right. Before I blacked out, I saw you appear right in front of me, with horns.”

Sylus raises his eyebrows, seemingly in amusement. “You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”

He earns a smack on his chest. You’re ready to let him disprove you further or whatever, but your body jolts when you feel Sylus snake his arms around your waist before he carries you effortlessly off the corner of the couch and onto his lap. 

You watch his eyes grow soft when he locks his gaze with yours. His expression is unreadable.

Your eyes widen in amazement when the thick pair of horns curl past his locks, the black a stark contrast with his white hair. He looks like he’s wearing bows in a funny, demonic type of way. Not that he has to know that. 

You continue to stare at his horns, visually taking in the rough yet smooth texture and patterns that run downwards as the horns grow thicker towards the base. 

“What are you really?” You wonder aloud, your fingers reaching out to feel the interesting texture of his horns, only for him to pull away quickly.

“It’s not the right time for you to know”, he replies curtly. You notice the glint of concern in his eyes, shrouded under the indifferent expression he wears. 

So you decide to leave it for now, at least. 

Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop you from annoying the ever-loving shit out of Sylus about his horns once you found out about it.

He would stare at you with his eyebrows furrowed, muttering that he should have never told you about his horns, only for you to bat your eyelashes at him, much to his annoyance. 

“At least let me touch them if you’re not gonna tell me more about them”, you would whine. With a frown, he would push your forehead with a finger, giving you his standard answer.

"No."

“Then could you at least tell me why you won’t let me touch your horns?”

He would rest his thumb and index finger on his chin, feigning a thinking stance before his expression drops deadpan and then the curt answer leaves his lips.

“No.”

You’re putting this right next to when you were fighting for your life to get that fucking brooch months ago. 

While the thought continues to eat into your curiosity, you mostly let Sylus off the hook after a while. For some reason, you’ve been noticing that Sylus has been walking around his mansion with his horns freely out. Maybe because he’s shown you his full horns once that’s why?

Or he’s just straight-up taunting you. 

You feign nonchalance, only stealing glances at the thick appendage that stood out against his pale locks from time to time, but never really bringing it up to him, for now at least.

You hear the raindrops patter against the large windows of Sylus's room one afternoon. At least the heavy clouds are hiding the sun on top of the dark curtains drawn, and it makes Sylus's rest a little more comfortable. 

He's sound asleep beside you on his bed, but you're seated up on your phone, the sound of the rain also slowly luring you to grow sleepy. You stretch a little, careful not to wake the male beside you. Sylus grunts softly, and you feel his hair tickle your thighs.

Through your peripherals, something catches your attention. The black on white is undoubtedly hard to miss.

Now that Sylus seems dead asleep, you're considering taking a chance to take a closer look at his horns, and maybe even touch them. 

Carefully, you shift your weight closer to Sylus, monitoring his expressions and movements. When the coast is clear, you lean closer, staring at his horns with much amazement. It's a lot different now that you're this up close to admire them. 

His horns aren't simply a simple shade of jet black–at different angles, you notice how the scales of his horns shimmer like an oil spill under the soft light. Close up, the base of his horns are thick, and as it extends, it curls, almost fully wrapping around his head. 

“So pretty”, you mutter to yourself. Your fingers are reached out as if by instinct, barely inches away from touching his pretty crown. 

You pause, weighing the risks of attempting to touch his horns. How fucked would you be if you actually did? 

Your eyes scan Sylus’s calm sleeping face. He doesn't seem to have even noticed his horns have grown out. 

“It’s just a little touch, he won't feel it anyways”, you convince yourself softly, your resolve firming as your curiosity begins to bubble over your rationale.

You let your fingers brush his horn, feeling the cold and scaly texture beneath your fingertips. Your eyes are sparkling in amazement even more, now that your curiosity has been satisfied. You press your fingertips onto the appendage, enjoying how nice and cool it feels to the touch.

Just then, you hear Sylus groan slightly. Your hand immediately retracts before you fully freeze, watching the way he presses his head against your leg, his eyebrows slightly scrunched before it returns back to relaxed. 

Close call. 

You obviously don’t learn your lesson, because your fingers are on his horns almost immediately once more. You grow more curious about the feeling of running your palm across his horns this round. 

So you do.

Your hand starts from the thick base, and you stroke it, following the horn's curl, enjoying the way the texture of the scales run smooth under your palm.

And then Sylus makes a sound beneath you. You squint in curiosity, wondering if you heard it right.

So you run your hand from his tip to the base this time. 

And this time, Sylus lets out another moan. You definitely did not hear wrong. 

Your cheeks are slowly flushing when you realise what you're doing to him. But for some reason, it makes you want to do it more.

So this is why he doesn't want you touching his horns? 

With a cheeky smile, you run your fingers along his horns in various ways and places, eliciting more pretty and erotic reactions from Sylus. 

You giggle to yourself, trying to ignore how he's making you aroused with all the noises he's making with every stroke you give his horns. 

You want to go for the next round, wondering how far you can take this.

Obviously not very far, because the next time you do, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist before you're about to touch his horns again.

He stares at you with half-lidded eyes, pink dusted on his cheeks and his breathing shallow.

“Are you having fun, kitten?” He asks with a frown.

Fuck.

You feign a smile, trying to wave your hand from his grip, of course, your attempts futile. 

Sylus’s other arm curls around your thighs, locking you from leaving the bed while Sylus lets his sleep leave his body from the rude interruption. 

“Denying me of satisfying my curiosity only makes it worse”, you shrug. Well, if only Sylus had just let you have a little touch…

The corner of Sylus’s lips pull up to a half smirk. 

“Right”, Sylus replies, a hint of annoyance and something else laced in his tone before he shifts above you in one swift motion, trapping you underneath him on his bed. 

“Then, I'm sure you don't have to be reminded that actions have consequences?”

You swallow hard. 

His hand that grabbed yours is placed on his chest, and he forces you to trail down his body, feeling his thick chest, then his abs under your touch, all the way down until he stops you right on his thick erection.

“You should take responsibility, don't you think?” Sylus asks with a raised eyebrow. 

You know it's pointless even attempt to escape when he’s devouring your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. It's so intoxicating. You would never admit your greed, but Sylus knows you well enough to feed you so good. You want to pull him so impossibly close.

In between breathless kisses, your warm hands trail from his biceps to his shoulders, to his neck, and right to his hair.

You test waters–letting your fingers rake through his hair, grazing the base of his horns. You get his green light when he doesn't swat you off, on the contrary, it makes Sylus grow more desperate in the kiss.

You confidently stroke his horn, from base to tip once more, and the moans that leave Sylus’s lips sound like fucking heaven. 

His crimson eyes finally meet yours, and he almost looks like he's in pain. 

“If you keep doing that–ngh–” Sylus trails off with another strained moan when the sensation of you stroking his horn buzzes right to his cock that he has shut his eyes to hold back. 

“This?” you tease, sliding your palm down to his base once more, rubbing the scaly appendage, watching him failing at trying to keep his composure. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, diving into your lips once more, eating you up. 

He pulls away briefly, pressing his lips just below your ear.

“You’re gonna be taking responsibility, kitten.”

He presses himself close onto you, so close that you feel his cock just pulsing against your pelvis, only separated by his black sweats. Sylus takes your chin in his fingers and steals your breath away once more, uncontrollably grunting with every stroke your hands play with his horns. You feel his cock twitch, then pulse before the feeling of warmth spreads across your skin, accompanied by a long, drawn out moan in your mouth.

It makes you dizzy with bliss, realising what you've done to him. 

Sylus pulls away once more, catching his breath, his eyes reflecting something more feral when you met his. 

But all you do is flash a cheeky smile at him, letting your fingers caress his cheek. 

His fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and he yanks them off, almost growing feral for the second time when his eyes meet the sight of the way your pussy is glistening so much that a wet and thin string of arousal sticks itself in between your pussy and your soaked panties. 

Well, Sylus is holding the short end of the stick anyway, because when he tugs his sweats down, your heartbeat accelerates as your eyes land on his cock–thick, red and completely covered in white and thick cum, some staining his underwear, twitching slightly with dribbles of cum seeping past his cockhead when the fabric brushes past his balls. 

He looks so fucking delicious when he's messy like that. Shit.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself, staring at me like that”, he teases. He doesn't even look embarrassed.

“Maybe I should play with your horns more often”, you reply with a smile. Sylus narrows his eyes at you, his expression mixed with annoyance and affection. His fingers press against your soaking clit, enjoying the way the smile on your face gets wiped, replaced with a contorted expression of pleasure when he rubs it in slow circles. 

“I’m strongly against that idea, sweetie”, Sylus responds, leaning in to take in the expression of your mind slowly growing dumb and blank just from his slender fingers rubbing you out. “It’ll give you a little too much leverage over me.”

Through the hazy and building pleasure, you still manage to reply, “that's the whole point.”

Sylus only smiles at your reply, his fingers leaving your clit. You're about to protest, that is, until he grabs you by your hips, dragging you closer to him, then pressing your knees to your chest, before his wet cock slowly enters you from below. He watches your face contort in pleasure–your eyes rolling back and your eyebrows furrowed–while soaking in the fucking delicious feeling of your cunt warm and wrapped around his cock. 

“S-so good”, you whimper, his fullness knocking out any ounce of breath and sense out of you at a dangerous pace the his cock inches even deeper into you.

“Such a nice and warm pussy hole”, Sylus grits, pushing himself even deeper, his control slipping when he's buried himself all the way in. “Fuck, you're so good for me, kitten.”

You're clawing his pillows when Sylus starts fucking you, and you're looking at Sylus with such a glazed out expression–and you know it drives him fucking crazy. His palm rests on the bulge that his cock is pushing every time he enters you, and it makes your thighs shake. Your moans grow in pitch and tone on top of the sounds of lewd wet skin slapping. 

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist in return for letting him scatter love bites across your neck.

So you decide that it’s the perfect time to aim for his sensitive spots once more.

Your fingers tug against his scalp, then alternating to stroking his horns once more, throwing Sylus into another round of pleasured daze. 

You feel his cock fill you up even more, and it makes you greedy to how far you can push it.

“I really should make you regret this”, Sylus mutters, failing to suppress another groan when your fingers scratch against the base. 

His thrusts become more like ruts, his cockhead hitting your g-spot over and over as payback. Sylus sprouts a satisfied smirk as he watches you completely come undone on his cock. You throw your head back while stars flicker in and out of your vision. The pleasure is growing so fucking good that you're choking on your moans too. 

“Right there! Fuck, that feels so fucking good, Sylus”, you sob through wet lashes and heavy pants. 

Sylus is mesmerised by your pretty expressions and the pretty sounds you always make for him when he's breaking you apart. 

Maybe you finding out about his sensitive horns is his punishment for indulging in these sick pleasures. Nonetheless, he still wouldn't have any other way.

Your hands find his horns once more, and he falters for a split second. But he doesn't shake you off since he's much too focused on trying to force an orgasm out of you.

Your pussy squeezes him before it starts uncontrollably fluttering against his cock. Ah, his goal is slowly being fulfilled.

As your orgasm dangles above you, you react with periodical squeezes on his cock and his horns, which definitely draws a much larger reaction from Sylus. 

“So close”, you whine, your orgasm slowly filling the crevices of your brain, plunging you deep into pleasure. Your cunt clenches on his cock, and you unintentionally yank his horns.

Sylus fucking growls, pressing himself so fucking deep into you, his cum fucking spurting into you–so much that some is leaking out from your plugged pussy hole and onto the bed. 

He pulls his cock out momentarily, letting his cum ooze from his cockhead, his eyes darting to the loads seeping out of your hole, before he slides his cock into you once more. You gasp at the fullness, another squeeze to his horns, which only stimulates Sylus once more, and his cock fills you up with another warm and sticky load. 

He’s panting, but he musters his energy to meet your eyes. 

“Sweetie”, he calls out to you amidst his dick attempting to take over his brain. “If you don't get your hands off, your pussy won't be able to hold anymore, I guarantee.”

He's met with a fucked-out and sly grin from his partner. 

“And I thought you enjoyed challenges.”

Sylus scoffs at your comment, realising that he really has to teach his kitten a lesson to not touch things that aren't hers.

[buckiverse]

Lessons

☆--- paring: zayne x reader

☆--- summary: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?

☆--- word count: 9.9k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, fingering, missionary, zayne is literally so jealous, caleb is kinda the boy best friend you tell your boyfriend not to worry about ngl, reader is inexperienced, soft!dom zayne, size kink if you squint, zayne knows you so fucking well it's sickening (he's just so sweet), no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: loosely based on nightly rendezvous (yes im doing a childhood best friend au for everyone... i fear im obsessed)

↳ xavier | sylus | caleb | rafayel

Some part of you felt like it was a bad idea—you knew better. Even after all these years, it felt surreal that Caleb was one of your closest friends. In your small town, there weren’t many people to bond with. The tight-knit community had shrunk over time, and most people you knew were just memories now. But you’d never forget the two boys who lived next door. One was more charming, the other more reserved, but both were just as kind and reliable.

Years later, that sense of community felt like a distant dream. It was why you jumped at the chance to move closer to Caleb and Zayne after they relocated to the city. The passing of your grandmother had made staying in the countryside unbearable. But as you stood ankle-deep in snow, staring at the truck piled high with your belongings, you wondered if you were in over your head.

The cold wind bit through your gloves as you trudged inside the apartment building. Your eyes darted nervously to the heavy furniture that needed to be moved. You shifted your weight, glancing at the door every few seconds. If any of the boys decided not to show up, you would be screwed. 

“Y/N!” Caleb’s voice rang out, and your head snapped up. Relief surged through you as you saw him approaching. Without thinking, you rushed into his arms, your cheeks burning as his warm embrace enveloped you.

“It’s good to see you too,” he teased, his playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands rested lightly on your back as he pulled away, studying your face. “How long were you standing out there?”

“Not long,” you lied with an awkward laugh. “I just—got lost in thought.”

How he looked at you made it hard to breathe, as if he still saw the same girl from all those years ago. The creak of the lobby door saved you from spiraling further. 

Zayne strode in, his dark coat dusted with snowflakes. His sharp gaze flicked from you to Caleb’s hands, still resting on your waist. For a moment, his jaw tightened, but he quickly smoothed his expression.

“You’re late,” Caleb called out, smirking.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Zayne replied, his tone dry as his eyes settled on you. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said with a grin, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you briefly, his touch warm but hesitant. You smiled before turning and walking over to the elevator. You missed your family, and now it felt a little closer to being pieced back together. 

You gave a debrief of the plan for the day, as there was plenty you could do on your own later. Though you were grateful to Xavier for helping you get a place, it needed…tlc. The boys agreed to help you move bulky items and clean up the remnants of a bug treatment. 

The boys retreated to the lobby—they had to move a couch and some other, far too heavy things. The three of you had been friends for years, bickering and fighting like siblings, but never with ill intent. Though Caleb and Zayne constantly teased each other more recently than anything, you weren’t sure what was a joke anymore. 

Your body jolted. A sound of a shout came from the hallway, distracting you from sweeping. 

“Damn—Zayne, pull up the couch—” Caleb strained and bit out. 

“You’re the one who’s not paying attention,” Zayne shot back calmly. 

You walked up to the unfolding scene, your hands resting on your hips when you approached them. The couch was now on the tile of the apartment hallway. You were glad they didn’t break your stuff while they messed around.

“And… Why is my couch on the ground?” you asked, your gaze shooting between them. 

“It seems Caleb’s grip slipped,” Zayne quipped. You could feel the air quotes around the last portion of his statement. His hands were resting on his hips as his breathing slowed and evened out.

“I just need a second—I’m sweating over here,” Caleb said, a deep breath coming from his lips. 

You watched as he lifted his shirt. His jeans rested low on his hips as he lifted the fabric, you could see faint trails of hair leading down his abdomen. He had a vein running above his hip to below his pants. 

Your eyes betrayed you as you shamelessly traced his body. Fuck, he looked good.

Zayne watched you in silence, observing, watching the surprise on your face when Caleb lifted his shirt. And he did not like it. First, why did Caleb always do shit like that, but besides, why did you seem to like it so much.

The three of you worked together to tackle the chaos of the moving day. With the bulky items moved, Caleb helped you clean the kitchen while Zayne focused on the living room. You stood on your tippy toes, wiping the cabinet the best you could, stretching to reach the top shelf. Caleb moved in behind you, his body brushing against yours. 

“Let me get that,” he said, his voice soft as he grabbed the cloth from your hand.

Your breath hitched as his warmth seeped through your back. His fingers brushed yours briefly, sending a jolt through you. You moved aside, trying to compose yourself. He stepped to the side after finishing, leaning onto the counter, “Why don’t I take over this part, since you’re so small?” a playful grin played on his lips, as he winked at you. 

“Always picking on my size,” you joked, your voice shaky. “Maybe you’re just too tall.”

His grin widened, but something in his gaze lingered a moment too long. “...Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low.

From the corner of the room, Zayne’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen. His hand paused mid-swipe on the wall, his eyes narrowing at seeing Caleb leaning close to you. His grip on the rag tightened, but he quickly looked away. This wasn’t the time.

You noticed all his progress when you made your way to Zayne. He almost successfully cleared the living room. “Can I help?” you said, approaching his side. 

Zayne’s lips quirked into a slight smirk. “I figured you’d be too busy with Caleb to remember me.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you shot back, an uncomfortable laugh leaving your lips.

He attached the extended handle before handing you the mop, his fingers brushing yours slightly. “Guess I’ll have to remind you why I’m the favorite,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. 

☆

You fell into a routine in the following weeks, trying to adjust to your new life. Weekly meetups with Caleb became a ritual, and today, you waited for him at a quaint coffee shop Zayne had introduced you to. The warm smell of coffee and pastries filled the air as you spotted Caleb walking in, his black coat framing his tall figure.

“Y/N!” he called out, his smile lighting up. He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment.

When he set you down, his eyes held yours for a beat too long. Your stomach flipped as you sat across from him, trying to steady your thoughts.

You began your catch-up over a coffee and some food. Your discussion filled the silence, and you shared a laugh while discussing the latest work drama. You clued Caleb into the details about your coworker, and how the Hunter’s Association locked his file.

It was pretty peculiar in your field; most hunters had a public record, released by the organization they resided under, but in his case, it wasn’t as easily accessible, making him a high-profile individual. Which just made you curious. As talented as you were you couldn’t help but notice the difference in skills between the two of you. It was so obvious he’d been at this longer than you. 

Caleb listened intently as you shared the latest work news, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Detective work?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be invading his privacy. I guess—I’ll wait for him to tell me when he’s ready.”

Caleb’s gaze softened. “That’s just like you,” he said quietly, his purple eyes glinting in the light.

Before you could process his words, your watch buzzed with an alarm. “I gotta get back to work,” you said, grabbing your things in a rush.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, gesturing to the table. “See you later.”

It was a lighter cold today, and no heavy snow blocked your path. As you walked back to work, you were honestly heavy in thought. You couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb. His smiles and touches felt deliberate, and you had no idea how to handle it. Dating had always been a mystery to you, and your nerves weren’t helping.  

This wasn’t the first time these nerves graced your presence. When you were much younger, you recall the party, the smell of alcohol, the loud music, and unfamiliar faces. You knew Zayne and Caleb of course, but them being a bit older than you made this crowd—one you hadn’t been exposed to before.

Making your way through the door was the worst. Caleb knew everyone, saying “hellos,” “hi’s,” and “what’s up, dude,” as he led the way. Making your way through the moving bodies was a challenge. You were thankful for Zayne’s hand holding onto yours as you made the way. You scanned the crowd, and everyone was dancing. The number of people grinding on others was mesmerizing, and you wanted in.

The music thudded through the walls, pounding against your ears. You remember making your way up the stairs, following closely behind Caleb, as Zayne sandwiched in behind you, finally letting go of your hand. Honestly, this didn’t seem like Zayne’s type of crowd, and he wasn’t the most outgoing. 

When you reached the room, it had fewer people than the rest of the house. You walked in, sitting on the couch while Zayne stood near the corner of the room. Some people sat in a circle with a bottle in the center, obviously playing a game. One of the girls asked if you and the boys wanted to join. 

You could feel the eyes of two important men in your life shift to you. Both were curious about your response. 

“...yeah.” 

Caleb also joined the game, sitting directly across from you. A girl with blonde hair spun the bottle, and before you knew it, it was your turn. 

Placing your hand on the bottleneck, you spun the bottle, watching its turning motion with curiosity. When it stopped on Caleb, the purple of his eyes glinted as he looked between you and the bottle. 

You could hear the circle of people urging you both on. It was just a kiss. You could do this. He’s your friend. You sat up on your heels, your hands burning as they rested on your knees. 

He got close to you and whispered, “Ready?” only for your ears to hear, and he kissed you, his lips connecting with yours softly, sweetly. Some people teased him for the gentleness at which his lips touched yours, but something shot through you when his lips touched yours. He softly bit your bottom lip before he pulled back from you. 

He kissed you. Zayne saw, everyone saw, and you liked it. 

You needed advice—something solid to guide your next move. You’d already admitted to yourself that you liked him, but how were you supposed to approach this? What did you even say? Zayne helped you through that kiss, reminding you it was just a game. But all these years later, you wanted to be more than a game to Caleb. Even in your shared youth, he had good advice for you, so why wouldn’t you trust him?

When you arrived at the office, your mind was still a tangled mess, buzzing with uncertainty. You decided it was no use overthinking it; it was better to rip the bandaid off.

You pulled out your phone, hesitating for a moment before texting Zayne:

You:

“Can I call you? I need some advice.”

When his reply came moments later—“I have a patient right now. I’ll call you after.”—you let out a relieved sigh. You trusted him, and you needed his help.

Relief washed over you as you read his reply, your heartbeat finally slowing to a steady rhythm. You let out a soft sigh, tucking your phone away. All you had to do now was organize your thoughts.

While you waited, you turned to your caseload, focusing on the profile you’d been compiling for a new wanderer-type you’d encountered during a hunt weeks earlier. Using old files as templates, you typed furiously, the steady rhythm of the keyboard pulling you into the zone. Minutes turned to hours as you worked, the world fading into the background.

The buzzing of your phone jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the screen and barely caught the call before it went to voicemail.

“You want me to teach you how to date?” Zayne’s voice drawled through the line, laced with amusement.

Heat rushed to your face as you groaned audibly. “That’s not—it’s not like that!” you blurted, but Zayne only chuckled softly.

You spent the next ten minutes stumbling through your explanation, your words tangling as you tried to paint a coherent picture of your situation. When you finally stopped, waiting anxiously for his response, all he said was:

“Okay.”

That one word was enough to knock the wind out of you. “Okay?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he confirmed calmly.

Your heart soared. “Okay, then,” you echoed quickly, trying to mask your nervous excitement. You rushed to thank Zayne before ending the call, clutching the phone to your chest. Relief and joy bubbled inside you. You knew Zayne would come through for you. You trusted him completely.

On the other end of the call, Zayne set his phone on his desk, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. He began packing up for the day, shaking his head in amusement. The idea of you coming to him for dating advice was equal parts endearing and intriguing.

Of course, he would help you. That much was never in question. But who had caught your interest so suddenly? The thought gnawed at him, tempting him to ask outright, but he resisted. He’d figure it out eventually.

As he picked up his phone to draft a response, a quiet laugh escaped him. “Lessons,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with amusement. He couldn’t help but smirk as he began typing out a plan. Lessons in dating and seduction? If anyone was going to help you succeed, it was him.

☆

Your phone buzzed with details for your first lesson. You had to admit you were quite excited. When you open the message, you read simple instructions:

Zayne:

“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something nice, but comfortable.” 

A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you gripped your phone, its cool metal grounding you—way to give me nothing, Zayne. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.

You:

“Got it.” 

With a rare day off, you had more than enough time to overthink this date—or, well, lesson. You'd been on dates before, but this felt different—important. You wanted to impress Caleb later, but you also wanted to enjoy this with Zayne and learn from him.

Determined, you took your time getting ready—a long bath, smooth and refreshed skin, natural hairstyle, skipping the heat of flat irons. Your makeup was subtle, accentuating your best features—your eyes and lips. The outfit? Simple, with an effortless elegance: a black skirt, a beige sweater, and knee-high black boots. Something nice but comfortable, you echoed mockingly in your head.

The doorbell rang. Your pulse quickened. Taking a deep breath, you cracked the door open.

“I’m grabbing my bag—give me a sec,” you said quickly before shutting it again.

Zayne chuckled softly on the other side. You looked nervous, and he thought it was cute.

When you finally stepped out, his eyes swept over you, approval flashing in his gaze. “Ready?” His voice was warm, familiar.

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Locking up, you stepped beside him, weaving through the apartment halls. The elevator was packed when it arrived, leaving just enough room for the two of you to squeeze in. When the doors slid shut, the crowd's pressure pushed you toward the back corner of the elevator.

Zayne stepped in after you, his body instinctively blocking the others from pressing too close. His warmth enveloped you, a wall of quiet protection. When his chest brushed against yours, your head shot up, startled by the contact—only to knock it against the cold metal wall behind you.

A low groan slipped from your lips, and Zayne chuckled. “Careful.” His hand came up, cupping the back of your head gently.

You stilled. Zayne’s touch was light but steady, fingers warm against your scalp. You let yourself settle into it for just a second, your cheeks heating.

Then, with a soft ding, the doors slid open. The moment was gone.

You followed him out quickly, slipping into his car. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Still, you were the first to break it.

“So… where are we going?” you asked, anticipation bubbling beneath your skin.

Zayne’s grip tightened subtly around the gear shift, veins visible against his skin. His lips curled into a faint smile. “You’ll see.”

—

You hadn’t expected this.

The setup was breathtaking—candles flickering softly, a picnic blanket spread on the grass by a lake, and wildflowers scattered around like nature’s own confetti. The crisp spring air carried the scent of earth and blooming petals, a reminder that winter’s grasp was finally loosening. The sun had just begun its descent, casting everything in golden light.

Zayne stood behind you, watching. He caught how your breath hitched and how awe softened your features. The faint flush that always seemed to bloom when he was near. He reveled in it.

“Lesson one,” he murmured. “A date.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Zayne, this is…” Your voice wavered with something close to wonder. “This is perfect.”

A small, knowing smile touched his lips.

You hesitated. “I’ve never really—” You exhaled. “So… what do we do now?”

He motioned for you to sit. “First? We eat.”

You obeyed, watching as he unpacked the meal. Your gaze flickered over the assortment of sweets tucked beside the entrees, and you bit your lip. He remembered your sweet tooth.

Your heart squeezed.

He handed you a sandwich—one of your childhood favorites. You took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the quiet thoughtfulness behind it.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. The conversation was easy and flowing, as it always was between you two. You talked about everything and nothing, letting the city fade away, and the wine in your glass disappeared far too quickly.

At some point, you made the mistake of looking at him.

The sunset bathed him in amber light, the gentle hues accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint green specks in his eyes. He looked beautiful—effortlessly so. The sleeves of his powder blue dress shirt rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins pronounced as his fingers idly toyed with the rim of his glass.

His gaze lifted, catching yours.

You panicked. Tipped your head back, draining the last of your wine, pretending to admire the sky.

And so the night went on.

Laughter. Warmth. The kind of company that made the world feel a little less lonely. It had been too long since you’d felt this way.

Maybe that was why—

—why you ended up tipsy.

The last thing you remembered clearly was Zayne’s hands on your waist, steadying you as you stumbled at your door. His voice, amused and gentle, coaxing you inside.

And then—

"You're drunk."

His voice was strained.

Your skin burned. “N ‘m not,” you murmured, reaching up, fingers clumsily ruffling his hair. “I w’nted to kiss you, Z-Zayne…”

His breath hitched.

You wobbled onto your tiptoes, pressing a sleepy, featherlight kiss to his cheek. “G’night, Zayne~”

Darkness.

And then—morning.

Your head throbbed. You groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead, and then—

The memory came rushing back.

Your stomach dropped.

Shit.

What did you do?

You kissed Zayne—just a kiss on the cheek, but no less a kiss. And you didn’t know how you felt about it. Maybe you liked it. And when you checked your phone, your heart skipped a beat. 

Zayne:

“Are you feeling better?”

It was a simple question, but your body felt warm, and a smile tugged at your lips as the cold metal burned your hand. 

You:

“Yes, I’m still a bit warm, but much better :)”

And from there the conversation flowed. 

Zayne: 

“So you’re ready for your next lesson?”

You:

“Duh.”

☆

This lesson was set up differently—as a more casual experience. Zayne held the door open, allowing you to enter as the scent of perfumes and faint traces of liquor—something you planned to avoid tonight—filled your senses.

Zayne trailed closely behind you, his eyes drawn to your fitted black dress. It hugged your curves just right, and while you were always beautiful, tonight, you looked divine. His gaze lingered, but he didn’t say a word, instead committing the image to memory.

You settled into the plush velvet seat, crossing your legs as you waited for him to join you. The slight pressure of the fabric against your skin and the low hum of jazz music set a tone of subtle sophistication.

“Lesson two,” he murmured as he sat beside you. “Body language.”

A sly smile crept onto your lips. This time, you were ready. Beyond your carefully chosen outfit, you had mentally prepared to hold your ground. Tonight, you would stay in control.

“So, what’s the plan today, Zayne?” you drawled, leaning forward as your fingers lightly brushed his bicep. You pretended it was a casual touch, but the way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you.

Zayne tilted his head slightly, studying your face. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re already ahead, princess,” he whispered, his voice low. The words felt like a direct hit to your resolve.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, your lips parted as you scrambled to regain composure. “Head start?” you echoed, tilting your head and trying to sound nonchalant.

"I want to see what you've learned—think you can charm me?" he said simply.

The lounge was an upscale dream: dimly lit, lined with high-end paintings, and filled with the smooth rhythm of jazz. The swaying figures on the dance floor moved in tandem with the music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the scene.

Leaning in closer to Zayne, you brushed your lips near his ear. “Should we dance?” you whispered, your hand steadying yourself on his knee.

The scent of his cologne—clean with a faint hint of jasmine—enveloped you. You felt his gaze sharpen, and when you pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the faint green specks in them seemed to glow under the low light.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth, as he stood and offered you his hand.

On the dance floor, your movements flowed easily, the music guiding you. You pulled him closer, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands rested on your lower back, firm and grounding, while your fingers trailed up his chest. The hard muscle beneath your touch sent a thrill through you.

“You look so handsome tonight, Zayne,” you said softly, your lips curving into a small smile.

“Only tonight?” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Your finger traced lazy patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady initially, but you noticed the slight quickening as your touch lingered. You looked up at him, your gaze filled with something unspoken but deeply felt.

“You always do,” you whispered.

The air between you was charged, the tension pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel like you might float away.

When the tempo picked up, you spun away from him, creating a bit of distance as you swayed more freely. He matched your rhythm more stiffly than anything. You couldn’t help but smile—this was fun.

“You’re way too stiff,” you said, getting close to him. Watching him try to whine his hips to the upbeat tempo was amazing. A laugh left your lips as your hands gripped his hips. “Why are your feet so close together?!” you choked out. 

“I was never a dancer,” he said flatly, unamused by the tears in your eyes. 

“Move to the beat,” you said again, trying to show him the way, but he didn’t get it. If you asked him, he’d rather watch you move your body. You moved beautifully, rolling your hips with precision.

When the lounge prepared to close, your cheeks ached from grinning, and your legs were deliciously sore. You shivered slightly as you walked side by side through the chilly night air.

“You look cold,” Zayne said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.

The warmth of the fabric—and his scent—wrapped around you. A soft, rich aroma of jasmine and something distinctly him made your heart flutter.

You nudged his arm, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You know… I think this was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

“I haven’t danced like that in forever.” you said.

“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes briefly flicking to the stars above. “It’s your favorite thing.”

His fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first. You took the leap, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you caught the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

This man was everything.

☆

Later That Week

You had agreed to meet Caleb for a more eventful hangout—to meet downtown and do whatever caught your eye. 

You spotted him easily. His tall figure towered over most people. You walked up to him, and he hugged you tightly. The warmth of his body covered yours, but it didn’t raise your heartbeat. 

When he loosened his grip on you, his hands rested on your shoulders, “Long time no see, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice full of joy. 

Your cheeks felt tight from smiling—you were happy to see him, but not for the same reasons as before.

“I know, it’s been a few weeks,” you said, pulling back from him and looking into the purple of his eyes. “Let’s get back on schedule,” you breathed, a light smile plastered on your lips. 

Work had been busy, but the truth was that your lessons with Zayne had occupied your thoughts—and your time.

While you started your walk downtown, plenty of things caught your eye. The first thing you did was enter a record shop. The store was in the basement off of a side street. It was a little creepy, but it looked like an underground studio once you got inside. Records were all over the shop, on the wall, and in little baskets stacked in rows. 

He browsed next to you, shuffling through the records occasionally showing you one he thought you’d like or an album you’d enjoyed. And in spending this time with him, you realized that you enjoyed this. 

The simplicity between you, the light air, and the lack of expectations for anything more was all you needed. Caleb’s fingers softly brushed yours as he placed a vinyl behind the one you held up for him.

“Find anything good?” you asked, your feet planted evenly on the ground as you turned to face Caleb. 

His eyes bore into yours, something flickering over them before he answered you.

 “Nah—let's get some food,” he said quickly, his demeanor suddenly returning.

Exiting the store, you joined in step beside him, exploring the city's night scene. Your options were endless as you scanned the shops that lined the streets. You spotted a food truck and the smells coming from it were amazing. 

Altering Caleb, you both sat at the outdoor seating, waiting for your orders. The chill of the evening air seeped through your clothes, making you shiver slightly.

“Do you want my jacket?” Caleb asked, his tone playful. “You look like you’re freezing.”

“Only if you have an extra,” you said, bouncing your leg under the table to keep warm.

With a smirk, he reached into his bag and handed you a spare coat. “You’re my best friend, You know I always do.”

You slipped it on, grateful for the warmth but… that was it. There was no spark, no flutter of excitement. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, adjusting the collar and wrapping it tighter around yourself, but it felt like just a jacket.

In the quiet moment that followed, your mind drifted back to Zayne. His jacket had enveloped you in warmth and scent, and your heart raced when he was near. You glanced at Caleb, who was busy watching the street outside.

Nothing. That kiss was—just a kiss. Years ago, you wouldn’t have believed anyone. Not even Zayne could have convinced you it was a fleeting crush. But it really was. You felt proper chemistry, companionship, and care and wanted to keep experiencing that with Zayne.

The weight of your realization was crushing. All the time you spent—wasted on this man. You cared for him, you truly did. But, what about you? Why were you so pent-up and focused on this person you didn't even really like? Was it really him you missed? Or just how he filled your time and made you feel small—safe, even?

That's the point. You’re not small. You're a grown woman who can stand independently, make her own decisions, and provide her own entertainment. Relief washed over you in waves because what were you even doing? Holding onto a version of the past that no longer fits?

But right behind it, sadness crept in. Not for Caleb, but for the time lost—chasing something never meant to be yours. But you didn’t truly waste time if it led you here—to someone real. To Zayne.

You forced a smile, staring down at your lap, and tried to push away the sinking feeling in your chest. You used to admire Caleb. It should feel special, especially his attention and time, but—it doesn’t. 

Caleb was the person you had wanted—the reason for the lessons.

The contrast was stark, undeniable. And for the first time, you realized the answer had been clear.

☆

You had admitted to Zayne that you wanted a cozy evening. Work had drained you, but more than anything, your recent realization had knocked the wind out of you. It wasn’t just an idle thought—the truth that settled deep in your bones, undeniable yet terrifying.

You knew what you needed to say and do, but the effort of voicing it—of being honest with Zayne—made your nerves coil tight.

Your lessons have helped. You felt more confident, more self-assured. You understood what a date was supposed to be now, what it meant to be courted and wanted. But more than anything, you wanted something real.

With him.

So, he invited you over after work.

Zayne:

"How about I cook you dinner, and we watch a movie?"

You:

"How do you always know exactly what I need?"

…

Zayne:

"Make yourself at home. I just finished setting up."

When you arrived at his house, the living room instantly warmed you. The room glowed softly from the candles he had lined along the tables, their flickering light casting gentle shadows against the walls. The scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint traces of his cologne.

But the sight of something familiar made your heart catch in your chest—small plushies, the ones you had won years ago, still resting on the couch.

He had kept them.

Your fingers grazed one absentmindedly as you took it all in, a lump forming in your throat.

You didn’t miss the sound of the shower running from the other room, and heat bloomed across your face. The thought of him stepping out—steam rising, droplets tracing the planes of his skin—sent your mind spiraling. He had just gotten off work, yet he still made time to set everything up for you.

As if on cue, the water stopped. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Zayne walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, another in his hands as he ruffled it through his damp black hair.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “Have a seat.”

Then, as if completely unaware of his effect on you, he strode into his bedroom and shut the door with a soft click.

You swallowed hard. That lasted less than a second, but it was enough.

His physique was unreal—his lean yet defined frame, the way his skin still glistened slightly, the tantalizing trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel… and God, you wanted to know where it led.

This was new. You had never felt this way before.

And he was making you crazy.

You forced yourself to move, settling onto the couch, trying to calm your racing heart as you waited for him. You distracted yourself with the snacks he had spread across the table, but your mind kept replaying that brief glimpse of him.

When he finally reappeared, dressed in a fitted shirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly breathtaking, your breath caught in your throat.

Something about this moment—the candlelight, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, the sheer intimacy of being here with him—felt so real. So domestic. So much like something you wanted forever.

Zayne disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in the glow of candlelight. A few moments later, he emerged with two plates in hand, setting them down on the dining table before motioning for you to sit.

“Did you make all of this?” you asked, raising a brow as you took in the spread before you.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, settling across from you. “I figured you’d appreciate a home-cooked meal after the week you’ve had.”

Your heart ached at how thoughtful he was.

The meal was warm and comforting—just like him. You took a bite, letting the rich flavors settle on your tongue and savoring the moment. Zayne watched you carefully, his gaze flicking to your lips before he took a bite of his own food.

“This is really good,” you admitted, breaking the silence. “You’re full of surprises.”

He smirked slightly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t already know I’m good with my hands.”

Your fork stalled mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck as your eyes snapped to his.

Zayne smirked slightly, taking another bite as if he hadn’t set your whole body on fire with that one sentence.

Your stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with the food.

“I—” You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. “I suppose I do.”

His gaze flickered with amusement before he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. Something was intoxicating about the way he watched you. It was like he was reading every thought running through your head.

The tension built slowly, lingering between every glance, every soft smile exchanged over the rim of your glasses.

At some point, his foot brushed against yours beneath the table. It was barely a touch—so light it could’ve been an accident. But when you met his gaze, you knew it wasn’t.

Neither of you spoke on it. Neither of you moved away.

It was almost unbearable, the weight of the moment, the way the air grew heavier, tighter.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome than usual.

You curled next to him as he flipped through the streaming options before settling on something. Not that it really mattered—you could barely focus because of how close he was.

The movie played, but you weren’t watching.

You were too aware of Zayne’s presence, the warmth of his arm resting along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder. Every tiny touch sent a current through you.

Then, in the middle of a scene, Zayne suddenly reached for the remote.

Click.

Ring…Ring…Ring…

Your phone started ringing, now of all times, and you dropped your gaze to the device at the same time as Zayne. 

Caleb calls all the time, but the timing of this was just—it couldn’t be a coincidence. And you weren’t sure if you should answer. 

“Don’t pick it up,” was all you heard, as you gripped the metal of your phone tighter. 

“Why,” you whispered, your voice small now. The confidence you had before flickered, unsteady—like a candle caught in the wind. You felt tender, exposed. Unsure if you had the strength to do what needed to be done.

“I know you wanted lessons, because of Caleb,” he started, his eyes meeting yours. The air felt cooler now, and goosebumps ran over your skin. 

"I can’t do this if you’re still holding onto him," he murmured, his voice steady—but stretched thin, like he was barely holding himself together.

“I can’t bear to see you with him—now that your presence has graced me, I see small pieces of you everywhere I go,” he admitted, his voice soft and tortured. 

Zayne exhaled through his nose,  running a hand through his dark hair before finally speaking.

“I don’t want you to want Caleb—I want you to want me” he breathed.

The screen froze mid-ring. A silence stretched between you—thick, suffocating. Heavy with everything left unsaid.

Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, only to find his gaze already on you—serious, searching.

Your breath hitched.

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and unshakable.

You swallowed. Say it.

“I thought I wanted to be with another man, Zayne…” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He tensed slightly, his jaw tightening, but you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“But I don’t,” you continued softly, eyes searching his. “I want this. I want you.”

The words left you in a breath, raw and real.

Zayne didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. But you saw how his eyes darkened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Please, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned in.

Your breath stilled, heart hammering. He was too close—his scent, the warmth radiating from his skin, the slight tremor in his breath. And then… finally, you leaned in, and he met you halfway.

You pulled back slightly, your breaths intertwining in the room's dimness. Your eyes opened tentatively, and you saw Zayne staring at you, his chest heaving from the kiss you had just shared. 

“Again,” you murmured, a silent plea because now that you were here you couldn’t let this pass. And Zayne obeyed, kissing you again. You could feel him shifting your position. His hands found your back, and he briefly disconnected your lips to lay you on the couch. 

His knees straddled your hips, as he just watched you, “Beautiful,” he whispered before tasting your lips again, the weight of him on top of you was not only delicious but welcome. You gasped at the pressure, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A groan escaped your mouth when his tongue entered your lips. 

“Wait,” you said, your hands resting on Zayne’s chest as he lay on you. 

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, noticing the clench of his jaw, flushed face, and swollen lips. 

He waited for a beat, watching you silently, “I’ll take care of you, princess,” he exhaled.

“I don’t have much experience,” he admitted, his gaze shifting from yours.

Your eyes widened with shock at his admission. You had assumed he was experienced, and that was part of the reason you asked him for help. 

You took a breath, smiling at him. " Let's learn together,” you whispered in his ear before leaning your head back and resting it against the pillow. 

You pulled him flush against you, his weight pressing you into the couch. He began his thorough search kissing your temple, to the crux of your ear, “Another lesson, …hm?” he whispered. And that caused you to writhe beneath him—the sound of his voice in your ear, and the soft vibrato of his confirmation. 

He began his steady exploration with his lips and hands. Stroking up and down your body, though most of it covered, the cool of his hands made your skin get chills when he touched you. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, gesturing to your t-shirt. 

“Yes,” you said too quickly, embarrassed by your eagerness. 

You adjusted your body, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head. You lay there sitting up on your forearms, just watching his explorative touch. His pointer finger traced the outline of your bra, hovering just above your skin. 

“You—” you started, biting the fat of your lip, “Zayne, I want you to take this off too.” 

And those emerald eyes watched you. In his head, he couldn’t believe you would be his—already prepared to memorize your every reaction. His hand trembled before steadying against your skin. The contact of his hand caused you to arch away from the couch. Click.

The bra fell forward as you shrugged it off your arms. Your whole body felt warm as you guided Zayne’s hands to hold your breasts. Your hands rested on his before you moved them back to the couch. His thumbs felt the hardening peaks beneath his hands, and he gave them a tentative flick, watching your face. You squirmed beneath him. 

Sensitive here. He made a mental note, before rubbing the hardened nub against his thumb at a steady pace. 

He moved his mouth to your other breast kissing it, before watching your face as his tongue made contact with it. Your hips jerked forward gently when he flicked it with his tongue. You bit your lip watching him play with your nipples. 

“Can—you touch me there?” you whimpered. His lips parted from your nipple. 

“Where?” he asked, and both of you just looked at each other. 

Before you took his hand and brought it between your legs. You held it there rubbing yourself on his hand through your pants, but you didn't miss the way Zayne trained his eyes on you. Watching each little reaction you had when he touched you. Even the lightest of touch made his lips part slightly even with the furious flush of his skin. 

His cock was straining in his pants, but he waited, wanting to learn you first.

He laid you down, your hands threading into his hair. Pulling him close to you he buried his face in your neck. The smell of jasmine filled your senses, as he groaned beneath you, breathing in your scent. You leaned back into the couch, shaken by the idea of him on top of you.

Your breasts pressed against his chest, the cool fabric causing a shiver to roll through you. He ran his face up and down your neck leaving a trail of light kisses. It was as if he was savoring you, imprinting your smell, your presence in his mind—as if you’d be done with him after this.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned against your throat.

Zayne steadied himself on his hands on either side of your head, his gaze trailing over your body to where he would find himself next. His eyes stopped between your thighs, he watched intently as you squirmed beneath him, your body shifting under his gaze.

Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears, and the cold stillness of the air sent a shiver through you. His lips found your jaw, kissing a slow line tracing to your throat. Each touch of his lips sent heat between your legs, and you tilted your head to give him more access, a whimper escaping your lips. 

Zayne was just a friend, someone who supported and loved you but someone you felt you couldn’t have. Your change of heart made you act on a whim to take advantage of your time with him. You wanted him, and no one else could have him but you. He was a high you couldn't—didn't want to get rid of. 

You grasped the blankets on the couch, trying to ground yourself somehow, while he worked slow kisses down your chest with light scrapes of his teeth.

His hands ran down your sides, caressing your breasts to your hips, his thumbs brushing the naked skin beneath your sweatpants. It was a maddening sensation, and you only wanted him to keep going.

You could see his erection pressed firmly against his pants, and you felt tempted to reach forward, to touch it. To pull him closer firmly against you, to feel him where you needed him most. 

One of his hands left you cupping you over your pants. The pressure against your clit stole your breath. A quiet groan of approval left his lips, while you felt a pulse between your legs.

You ground your hips upwards into his hand. A breath left your lips as you moved your hips. 

“Touch me, Zayne,” you breathed, you felt like you were in a dream. 

He paused, his breath hitching at your words. His gaze darkened, the green of his eyes barely visible, as he searched your face. His jaw clenched, his voice dropping, rough with restraint. “Say that again.”

You observed him, grabbing the drawstrings of his pants. “Touch me Zayne, …Please” Your voice came out small, pleading. 

He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching against your skin. He traced your pussy through your pants, his fingers burning through your pants—that you wished he’d taken off already. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over you, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing you.

You had never been undressed like this. And you wanted it, you wanted to be touched by him, to feel him grabbing you.

He gripped the waistband of your pants, adjusting his position to push them down your thighs, dropping them to the floor. You sat there in only black underwear while he sat across from you, still in his t-shirt and sweats. 

His attention was all yours, and it was thrilling. 

Your hands still gripped the blanket beneath you. Your feet were tucked next to your bottom. 

“Let me see you.” His voice was low and deliberate. His fingertips grazed your knee before applying the faintest pressure. His eyes searched yours, waiting. “Spread your legs for me.”

You took in an unsteady breath, and you did it. 

His hands ran up your legs, his fingers pressing into your thighs, making your stomach tighten unexpectedly. The cool of his hands felt good against your soft skin. 

The cool air brushed against your panties making you aware of how wet your panties were. Zayne’s gaze met you there, shooting warmth through you.

Your breath hitched when his thumb pressed down on your clit through the fabric. His other hand was steady on your thigh, pressing your thighs open wider. The brush of his thumb up and down sparked a heat in your lower stomach.

You leaned your head back and started to rock under his touch. And then he kissed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He groaned, licking and sucking your breasts with a slight scrape of teeth. A high-pitched moan escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his hair. 

His mouth was so hot, and he kept licking you, how you’d never felt before. You felt like you could die. So, when he removed his mouth from your breasts, you thought you were going to scream. 

He removed your underwear, leaving them in a pile with the rest of your clothes, spreading your legs once more as his gaze fell between your thighs. 

His fingers glide gently along your inner thigh, his touch warm and deliberate, but never rushed. His gaze softens as he takes you in, his breathing slow, controlled—like he’s memorizing every part of you.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your skin, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he won’t rush you.

When you nodded, his lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—making sure.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss just above your knee. "I want to make this good for you."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and his head lowered between them. You shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, pleasure running through you. Each soft lap of your clit rolled through you. 

His arms held you so securely that you couldn’t move your hips while he licked you. As much as he said he wanted to take care of you, it felt like he was doing this for himself. 

“Zayne,” you moaned, digging your hands into his thick black hair. 

He swirled his tongue over your clit before sucking. His eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath him. His finger filled you, sending a tremor through you, with his mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, while his fingers moved in and out of you. And he did it with such ease, deep noises of satisfaction falling from his lips. 

He was taking his time, slowly working you out and the pressure was building up in you. You bucked your hips, feeling the heat growing throughout you. 

“Zayne…I need more,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered it with slow, calculated movements—his pace steady, yet devastating. He added another finger, stretching you further, his touch unrelenting as he pressed deeper, curling just right. The pleasure was unbearable in the best way, a wave crashing over you with no hope of escape.

Your breath hitched as his dark, heated gaze met yours, watching, reading every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. His free hand smoothed over your thigh, grounding you, soothing you—only to bring you higher moments later.

A choked-out plea left your lips, your body arching, back curving as the heat coursed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach. You clenched around him, muscles tightening as that sharp, dizzying pleasure built to a breaking point.

“That's it,” he murmured, voice thick with something unreadable, something possessive yet achingly tender. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot and teasing, sending shivers up your spine.

And then—release.

Your body trembled, pleasure crashing into you in relentless waves. He didn't stop, not right away, working you through it, coaxing every last aftershock from your sensitive body until you were completely spent.

You collapsed against the couch, fully fucked out, limbs heavy, your mind hazy with bliss. 

A shaky breath left your mouth, as you sat up slowly running your fingers through his hair.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. Something real.

His jasmine scent invaded your senses as his body wrapped around yours. You closed your eyes, surprised by the sudden upward jerk of him holding your naked body. You held him close as he carried you to the closed bedroom door. 

He laid you on the bed gently, holding your stare, he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, your cheeks growing warmer even as he stood before you in his briefs. You glanced at his erection pressed through the fabric. He was so hard, and it was hot. And all for you. 

Goose bumps spread across your skin, as he opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom. 

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, as he dropped his briefs. 

“Yes,” you breathed.

He crawled over you, kissing your stomach and breasts as he did. His body covered yours, so heavy. It made your skin sing with satisfaction. He kissed your neck, bracing his hands beside your head. 

Your fingers trailed the line of hair, you'd been desperate to touch. You hesitated, unsure how to touch him. 

Zayne felt your hesitation, and meeting your gaze, he whispered, “Your touch… I need it.”

Your heart fluttered with uncertainty, but you slid your hands down gripping his erection. His forehead fell on the side of your neck, encouraging you further. 

You wrapped your hand around his length. And he groaned. You ran your hand down to the base and all the way back up. 

"Don’t make me wait…please" you whispered in his ear, placing a kiss there.

"Tell me how much you need me,” he rasped, nipping at your neck.

"I’ve always needed you, Zayne," you said softly, dragging your hands through his hair. "I need you in every way… not just tonight."

His eyes met yours before kissing you while you stroked him again. Your breasts brushed against his chest, sending pleasure through you. 

“...Please” you breathed. 

He rolled onto the bed next to you, slipping off his briefs, the sound of the wrapper crinkling in his hands drawing your attention. You watched as he poised to tear it open, his gaze flicking to yours for confirmation.

“Wait,” you whispered, your voice soft but resolute. He paused instantly, his eyes searching yours.

“I want to feel all of you,” you said, vulnerability lacing your tone, the weight of your trust hanging in the air.

His expression softened, his brow furrowing with both tenderness and concern.

“If it’s too much, just say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a promise woven into each syllable. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering as though to reassure you. Positioning himself at your entrance, his movements were deliberate, his focus entirely on you.

He took the head of his erection and rubbed it against your pussy. The tip caught your clit, causing your breath to hitch. He started to slip the head inside you, and it stung. A shudder rolled through you as you exhaled. Your fingers curled on his chest as he stayed still inside you, watching your face. 

He pushed deeper into you, his gaze dark and unwavering as he watched the way your lips parted, a soft whimper spilling free. The sound sent a shudder through his body, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to hold himself together.

The stretch burned—a slow, intoxicating burn—one that sent heat rolling through your veins. You felt so full, every inch of him fitting into you as though he was meant to be there.

When he finally bottomed out, a cry tore from your throat, your back arching, pressing you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, his weight solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best way.

He didn’t move right away.

Instead, he stayed buried deep, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. Your arms wound around his neck, and he exhaled against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breathing, the slow rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch air. He was everywhere, his presence consuming, intoxicating.

And then, he moved.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips.

You gasped at the sensation, at the way he dragged against your walls with aching precision, each thrust filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, and he shuddered at the sensation, his control fraying at the edges.

“You take it so good,” he praised, his voice thick, rough with something raw, something reverent. 

Every time his pelvis ground against yours, his head spread throughout you. The friction sent sparks up your spine, every movement of his body against yours pulling a new sound from your lips.

He was watching you, utterly captivated by the way you unraveled beneath him. His thrusts remained slow, deliberate, as if savoring every reaction, every little gasp and moan that escaped you.

His fingers traced down your side, over the curve of your waist, gripping you tighter as his pace deepened, intensified. His gaze burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “So beautiful for me,” he rasped, his voice low, dripping with need.

The words ran over your skin, filling you with warm satisfaction, your head tilting back as another moan escaped you. Zayne’s lips hovered above yours. With each slow thrust, they brushed yours lightly. 

His pace faltered, his rhythm stuttering as he fought for control, his breath ragged against your skin. But he didn’t dare rush—he wanted to feel every second of this, every shudder, every tremor that wracked your body beneath him.

“You’re mine… all mine,” he groaned, voice thick with possession, his body tensing, muscles drawn taut as he drove his hips deep one last time.

A choked moan escaped you as you shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His grip on you tightened as his own release followed, a deep, guttural sound leaving his lips as he buried himself fully, claiming every inch of you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your hearts hammering in sync as he collapsed against you, his weight a comforting warmth pressing you into the mattress.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Zayne traced slow, lazy circles on your bare skin, grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality of you. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven but calming, syncing with yours.

Then, in the quiet, his lips tipped into a smirk against your temple.

“So… does this mean I can finally call you my girlfriend?” His voice was lower now, teasing but laced with something real—something hopeful.

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Or do I have to seduce you all over again?”

His grin was cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you—like he needed this answer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a slow, tired smile spreading on your lips as you exhaled softly.

"I think you already have," you whispered.

The tension broke as he let out a satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you closer, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

And you didn’t want him to.

Not now.

Not ever.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

tell me again that you hate me

a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.

summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.�� 

warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy

word count: 5153

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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.

You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 

Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 

It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 

Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 

The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.

Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 

Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.

Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 

“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”

“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”

“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”

The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.

Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 

When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 

But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 

However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 

It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 

“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”

His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 

“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 

“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 

“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 

That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 

“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 

“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”

As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 

When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 

“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.

Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 

“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 

Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 

“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 

“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”

“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 

“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”

“Not particularly...”

As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 

“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 

Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 

Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 

“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”

“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”

“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 

“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 

Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”

“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”

Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 

Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 

He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 

“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”

As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”

But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.

“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.

It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 

A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  

Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?

It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 

“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 

“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 

He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 

“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”

Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 

Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 

“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.

When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 

One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 

Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 

You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 

“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 

A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 

“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”

“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 

“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”

Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 

“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 

“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 

“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 

When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 

Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.

“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 

Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 

“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  

A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 

“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 

As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 

“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.

Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 

“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”

You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.

“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”

“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 

It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 

“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 

Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 

Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 

You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.

As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 

Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 

“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”

“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”

You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 

Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”

“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”

“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 

“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”

“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 

“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 

“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 

“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 

“Say that you’re my little slut.”

“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”

Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 

One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.

“I hate you.”

“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.

“I hate you.”

“Keep going, princess.” 

And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 

Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 

When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.

“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”

“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 

And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 

Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”

You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 

“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 

“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”

“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”

Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…

When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.

“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”

“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 

Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 

Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.

Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 

You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 

“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 

“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”

“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”

“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”

Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 

“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 

You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 

“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 

“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”

Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 

“You do look hot in normal clothes.”

“I don’t think any of this is normal…”

“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 

“Rafe…” you breathed. 

His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[457gf]

hwang inho who . . inho x fem!reader

₊˚ʚ warnings : smut, dark content, age gap, naive!reader, manipulation, sexual coercion, dubcon / noncon, slight somnophilia, inho being a creepy old man for you, use of the word 'rαpe'

hwang inho who loves taking advantage of innocent naive girls, practically drooling when he spots you nervously fidgeting with your fingers, eyes squeezed shut as you silently begged for others to vote x. you wanted to go home so bad, but of course inho couldn’t let that happen.

hwang inho who can’t help but throb in those stupid cheap sweatpants when your smile drops even further from the result of him continuing to stay. obviously you didn’t know the real reason he said yes, though thinking of the look of betrayal that would form on your face after he tells you makes his grin that much wider.

hwang inho who approaches you gently, almost as if you’re a porclein doll who could be broken at any moment. you’re understandably weary because of the blue O stuck on his chest for the time being, almost as if a mockery. he’s the one that sealed your fate of staying here, after all. instead of bothering you like you initially thought, he politely invites you to sit with him and a few other people, under the ruse of “you look like you needed a friend.” in actuality, he just wanted to make sure you didn’t stray from his sight.

hwang inho who does everything in his power to get close to you. promising he’ll protect you, stick by you during all of the game, and put your safety well above his own. not like he was in any real danger with the guards on his side, though those words did give him a few brownie points from you for his generosity. it wasn’t really a lie, because he would protect you through all of the games, and he had no doubt about that.

hwang inho who watches you at night, promising to keep lookout for the whole group, though he spends most of his time staring at you. pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, pushing your hair out of your eyes so he’s able to see your pretty face better. inho can’t help but run his hands over your body, feather light touches across your perky tits and your hips, careful not to wake you up. you’re so god damn beautiful, you could be classified deadlier than the games because of the way you make his heart stop.

hwang inho who quickly pulls his hands away when you start to blink awake, eyes heavy with sleep. he’s a bit embarrassed he let himself be so reckless, but there’s nothing a little lie won’t fix. “oh, you kicked your blanket off so i was making sure you were cozy again.” “you were squirming so i thought you were having a nightmare. are you okay?” “i’m just checking on you, i’m sorry if i scared you.”

hwang inho who runs to the bathroom shortly after, unable to take more of the aching caused by your precious eyes. he’s pressed up against a stall, hand working fast over his thick cock as images of you flood his mind. you’re so cute and naive, he wants nothing more than to break you. you’re so stupid, you believed his little lie, not even questioning any further. and god, the way you called him “mister young-il” in that tired voice of yours before flopping back down, a sigh of relief escaping, made him feel even more perverted. you were so young and truly trusted him to look after you. he couldn’t get the thought of you underneath him, begging him to keep using you like a fleshlight out of his gross head.

hwang inho who can’t decide if he finds the idea of you crying out for him to stop and get off you hotter than you asking for more. definitely the former, he thinks. he wants to rαpe you, to sneak his hands underneath your pants in the middle of the night and play with your sopping cunt, the idea of your own body betraying you and giving into his sick desires and love for you makes his head fall back, roughly hitting the stall door in the process. he couldn’t care, he’s too far gone thinking about you.

hwang inho who can’t help but plot when the best time to take advantage of you will be, finally coming to the conclusion of mingle. the guards take a few minutes to clean up the bodies and some of the blood of each deceased after each round, leaving the players trapped in the locked rooms whilst doing so. all he had to do was wait for two people to be called out, tell the guards to take a little extra time, play your knight in shining armour, then push you against the wall and make you squirm.