#came to me in a sudden and gripping vision

[zerosbubble]

Hello I have an idea for Tim x rookie reader.

They get a call that seems pretty normal and when they arrive Kid gets shot.

They end up in hospital ICU where Tim is sat next to kid saying how everything is his fault ect.

When Kid wakes up and hears Tim saying how it’s his fault she reminds him that is isn’t.

Thank you ☺️ x

Rookie down.

Tim Bradford x Rookie!reader [PLATONIC] — Ongoing series: Like Father, like Rookie.

Summary: No amount of training could’ve prepared you for the moment you got caught up in an active shootout—and for Tim, no amount of stoicism could rid of the guilt.

a/n: I find it adorable how we’re just referring to reader as kid now. 😭💕

The call had come in like any other—routine, nothing out of the ordinary. A disturbance at a small corner store. Dispatch barely sounded concerned.

Tim had driven, you in the passenger seat, legs bouncing absently as you sipped at the coffee you barely had time to grab that morning. The other units were still a few minutes out, but this was just supposed to be a check-in. A quick look, a clear scene, and back to patrol.

You should’ve known better.

The second you both stepped out of the shop, everything exploded. Shots. A full-blown active shootout between two rival groups, and you and Tim had walked straight into the crossfire.

Instinct kicked in. Take cover. Return fire. Call it in.

You barely made it behind the patrol car before searing pain bloomed in your side, so sudden and white-hot that it stole your breath. You staggered, barely registering that you were going down until your knees hit the pavement hard.

Some part of you dimly registered Tim’s voice—loud, commanding—but the sound of gunfire muffled everything else.

You pressed a hand against the wound, and your fingers came back slick with blood.

Not good.

Your breath shuddered. You had been trained for this, prepared for it, but the sheer force of reality hitting you was different than a controlled scenario.

The pain wasn’t controlled. The fear wasn’t controlled. And despite every instinct screaming at you to hold it together, your vision blurred with unshed tears as your breath came in short, ragged gasps.

“Hey! Kid—stay with me.”

Tim was there, dropping down beside you, one hand pressing firm against the wound to slow the bleeding. His other hand gripped the radio, calling for an immediate medic response, voice sharp, commanding—desperate.

You blinked up at him, your body trembling violently from the shock. You tried to regulate your breathing, to not let him see the fear that had crept into your bones, but it was damn near impossible.

“I—” Your voice caught, breath hitching. Your lips parted, trying again, but all that came out was a shaky exhale.

“Hey. Look at me, kid.”

You did, barely able to keep focus on his face, but you tried. He was pressing harder now, trying to stop the bleeding, and it hurt. God, it hurt.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Tim said, voice steady. “You hear me? You’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, a quick, jerky movement, but you weren’t sure if you believed it.

“I need you to stay awake, alright?” His grip tightened just slightly, the rare, vulnerable edge in his voice cutting through the panic clawing at your chest. “Just keep breathing, okay? Just like that. Slow it down.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to do as he said, but the pain was starting to get unbearable. Your head swam.

“I—” You sucked in a shaky breath. “Sir, I don’t—I’m scared.” You muttered between breaths.

Tim shook his head, shifting to cradle the back of your head, steadying you as you started to sway. “Nope. No, none of that shit. You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you to a hospital, and you’re gonna be okay.”

He was holding it together, but just barely. You could see it in his eyes, in the way his jaw clenched, the tension in his grip as if he were forcing your body to stay with him.

He wasn’t letting himself break, not yet, but you could feel the desperation beneath his words. Tim was talking like he needed to hear the words more than you did. He was trying to convince himself, just as much as he was trying to convince you.

You wanted to say something, anything to make it easier, but you didn’t get the chance.

“Kid? Damn it, keep awake!”

Everything blurred into sirens and movement and then—

“Don’t do this shit to me! Please.”

Nothing.

The ICU was quiet. Too quiet.

Tim sat beside your bed, hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. He hadn’t moved much since they’d let him in, since they’d assured him you were stable, that you’d made it through surgery.

It didn’t matter.

This was his fault.

He should’ve clocked the situation faster.

Should’ve called in backup first. Should’ve done something different, something better, because now you were here, unconscious and hooked up to machines, your face too pale against the stark white hospital sheets.

It felt wrong to be in a room this quiet with you in it, like he couldn’t adjust to the absence of hearing you chew unnecessarily loud on a bag of chips that you made him pay for—or when you’d ramble on to him about something he could care less about.

He exhaled, running a hand over his face, fingers digging into his temples. “Damn it, kid.”

He wasn’t even sure if he was talking to himself or to you. It didn’t matter. Either way, the weight of it pressed down on him like a vice.

The soft beeping of the monitor filled the absence of the voice he knew.

Then, slowly, the sound of movement. A shift in the bed. A quiet, pained inhale.

Tim’s head snapped up instantly. “Kid?”

Your eyes were barely open, hazy with sleep and medication, but you were awake.

Tim sat forward, relief hitting him all at once. “Hey. You with me?”

You blinked sluggishly, gaze struggling to focus, but eventually landed on him. “…Sir?”

His throat tightened. “Yeah. I’m here.”

You took another slow breath, still visibly groggy, but the confusion was settling. Then, after a pause, your brows furrowed slightly. “…Why do you look like that?”

Tim scoffed, a quiet, breathless sound, but his expression was still tight. “Like what?”

“Like—” You swallowed, shifting slightly, wincing at the movement. “Like you ate the chocolate bar I hid in the shop.” You mumbled, managing to let out a weak and quiet laugh.

But when Tim didn’t laugh, or even roll his eyes at your half-assed joke and just stared with that same guilty look on his face, your gaze softened.

“Like me getting shot was your fault.”

Tim said nothing.

You exhaled, voice softer now, but still firm. “It’s not.”

Tim’s jaw clenched, gaze flickering away. The stubbornness in his eyes lacing itself with his guilt, “I should’ve—I should’ve secured the perimeter before we stepped out,”

“Sir,” you huffed in disagreement.

“No, kid. If I had done that, you wouldn’t have been fucking dying in my arms.” He muttered through clenched teeth.

You pushed on, despite the exhaustion settling deep in your bones. “This was never on you.” You mumbled, “Yea, I got shot. But I would’ve ended up actually dead if I didn’t have a T.O who took down half of them, and then called for backup and R.A.”

His shoulders tensed. Then, after a long moment, he let out a breath.

“…Get some rest, kid.”

You watched him for another second, then, finally, nodded, letting your eyes drift closed.

The tension in Tim’s chest didn’t ease. Not fully. But as he sat back, watching your breathing even out, some small part of him finally let go of the guilt just enough to breathe.

[possiblyawesometmblr]

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ do you think you’d kill for me, one day? ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous!

˚ ༘♡ the room plunged into darkness, and the air grew heavy with anticipation. bursts of violet and rose-red light erupted like fireworks, each pulse brighter and more jarring than the last. the lights burned into your retinas, blinding and relentless, painting the room in frantic, chaotic hues. shadows danced wildly across the walls, twisting and writhing as if they were living things. a smooth, mechanical voice rang out, tranquil and serene, “two.”

˚ ༘♡ you could feel your heart hammering in your chest, each beat echoing louder in your ears than the voice itself. your eyes scanned the chaos, flicking from face to face, desperate to make sense of it all. young-il, player 001, had already pieced it together. there were only fifty rooms, but one hundred and twenty-six people remained. at most, one hundred players would survive.

˚ ༘♡ suddenly, everything moved in a rapid blur. young-il, who had been quietly explaining what he believed would happen, was no longer talking. his hand shot out, gripping yours with a force that left no room for hesitation. his touch was steady, commanding, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you forward. there was no time to think, no time to question.

˚ ༘♡ your feet stumbled beneath you as he dragged you through the chaos. panic gripped your chest and clawed without mercy, your breaths coming in searing, shallow bursts. ahead, a yellow door loomed like a shelter in a storm, sanctuary, a chance of survival. sweat trickled down your temple, stinging your eyes, as the two of you surged toward it. so close. you were so close.

˚ ༘♡ then the blow came.

˚ ༘♡ it was sudden, vicious, and it knocked the air from your lungs in an instant. a sharp, heavy kick to your stomach sent you sprawling to the cold, unforgiving floor. pain exploded through your abdomen, radiating outward until it felt like your entire body was on fire. you gasped, choking on the air that refused to return to your lungs. blinking through tears, you managed to look up. a tall, wiry figure stood over you, player 285. his face was set in stone, his eyes harsh and callous. you were nothing to him. just another obstacle to trample over.

˚ ༘♡ pain fogged the edges of your vision, but fear kept you moving. trembling, you tried to push yourself up, your arms weak and shaking beneath you. the countdown timer echoed in your mind like a death knell, each second slipping away faster than the last. a sinking realization clawed its way into your thoughts, you might not make it. the notion wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing until it was hard to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ young-il was at the door now, his moderate frame blocking the entrance as player 285 lunged at him, desperate to get inside. young-il didn’t waver. with a strength you hadn’t seen in him since he bludgeoned players 230 and 124, he wrenched the metal door open wider and grabbed player 285 by the collar. his grip was iron, unyielding. in one swift motion, he threw the man backward into the frenzied crowd, far from the door.

˚ ༘♡ “go!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. the authority in his tone sent a jolt through you, and your legs moved on instinct. you scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the yellow room, the door slamming shut behind you. relief should have washed over you, but it didn’t.

˚ ༘♡ the room was drenched in horror. the walls and floor were streaked with blood, its metallic scent sharp in the air. in the corner, a man, player 343, sat quivering. his eyes were wide with terror, his hands twitching uncontrollably as he stared at you and young-il.

˚ ༘♡ young-il leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling heavily. the muffled shouts and pounding fists of player 285 echoed from the other side, but they barely registered. there were three of you in the room. the rules were clear. only two could stay. someone had to leave, or none of you would walk out alive.

˚ ༘♡ “please… please, we were here first…” the man stammered, his voice weak and desperate. his hands clutched at the wall as if it could somehow shield him. he made no move to fight, his stout body rooted to the spot.

˚ ༘♡ your gaze went to the countdown timer. twelve seconds. the world seemed to shrink, the weight of the moment pressing down on you in a suffocating fog of despair. your voice broke as you turned to young-il. “i’ll go,” you whispered. “if i don’t… we’ll all die.”

˚ ༘♡ the words tasted bitter, wrong. every fiber of your being screamed against the thought of stepping outside, of waiting to be executed in cold blood. but what choice did you have? standing there, all three of you frozen in fear, would only ensure everyone’s death.

˚ ༘♡ young-il’s face remained unreadable, his dark eyes blank as he stared at the man in the corner. then, with an abruptness that made your stomach drop, he moved.

˚ ༘♡ in a single fluid motion, young-il lunged at player 343. before you could process what was happening, his arm locked around the man’s neck in a crushing grip. player 343 thrashed, his limbs flailing wildly as he clawed at young-il’s arms, his face distorted in a mask of pure terror.

˚ ༘♡ your breath caught in your throat as you watched. the man’s struggles grew weaker, his movements slowing, until they stopped entirely. the sound of his neck snapping echoed through the small room, sharp and sickening.

˚ ༘♡ yet it wasn’t solely the act itself that made your stomach churn. it was young-il’s face. his expression was not cold or cruel, it was empty. hollow. there was no anger, no remorse, not even determination. merely a terrifying absence, as though he had flicked a switch and turned off everything human inside him.

˚ ༘♡ player 343’s body slumped to the floor, lifeless. the timer hit zero. the strobing lights stopped, and the door unlatched with a hiss. outside, the metallic scraping of corpses being dragged away filled the air, accompanied by blaring gunshots.

˚ ༘♡ you turned away, bile rising in your throat. your body shaking as you pressed yourself against the wall, unable to shake the image of the man’s lifeless eyes, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

˚ ༘♡ “are you alright?” young-il’s voice was soft now, almost tender. you flinched at the sound, your mind unable to reconcile the concern in his tone with the monstrous act you had witnessed seconds prior.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to nod, though the movement felt feigned. “yes… yes, forgive me.” your voice was shaky, but you tried to steady it. “i’m not used to… to seeing things so shocking.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il studied you for a moment, his melancholic eyes searching your face. “i frightened you,” he said simply, his voice flat.

˚ ༘♡ “you did what you had to do,” you murmured. “it’s not your fault. this game… it’s twisted. it forces us to do the unthinkable.” you glanced toward the door, unable to stop yourself from shuddering at the sight of masked guards dragging bodies through the blood-soaked corridors, leaving thick, smeared trails of scarlet ichor. “let’s go back.”

˚ ༘♡ young-il nodded and stepped out first, his broad shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. you followed, your legs heavy as you cast one last glance at player 343’s stiff, unnaturally contorted body.

˚ ༘♡ “you must understand,” young-il said as the two of you walked towards the exit. his voice was low, as though he were speaking more to himself than to you. “i didn’t do it for me. it wasn’t sadism. it was because you deserve to go home. you’re a good girl, i want to see you leave this place unscathed so you may see your loved ones again and lead a normal life. there are some who are too far gone for saving.”

˚ ༘♡ his words pierced the air between you, as if they had a tangible weight, sinking deep into your chest. you drew in a shaky breath, the lump in your throat rising as you fought to find your voice. “mr. young-il,” you called softly, barely above a whisper.

˚ ༘♡ he halted mid-step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the smooth, polished ground breaking the silence. slowly, he turned, his dark eyes locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze, something that burned quietly, akin to embers buried in ash.

˚ ༘♡ “i never thanked you,” you managed, the tremor in your voice betraying the emotion you tried to suppress. “you saved my life. i owe you my existence.”

˚ ༘♡ a shadow of a smile flickered across his face, fleeting and hollow, like the ghost of a feeling long forgotten. it never reached his eyes. “you owe me nothing,” he said, his voice low and rough, each syllable weighed down with exhaustion and something heavier, something unspoken. without another word, he turned away, his movements deliberate and slow.

˚ ༘♡ you stood still for a moment, your heart constricting painfully in your chest. the sight of his retreating figure, sent a ripple of unease and gratitude coursing through you.

˚ ༘♡ you forced yourself to follow, each step dragging as if the weight pressing on your chest had seeped into your limbs. the silence between you was stifling, so heavy it seemed to press against your ears, drowning out everything else. you longed to speak, but the words caught somewhere deep inside, trapped and unwilling to surface. so you trailed behind him, your steps hesitant and uneven, as though tethered to him by an invisible thread.

a/n: my second squid game fanfiction! i am so thankful for all the support and kind messages i received on my first hwang in-ho imagine! please let me know if you have any other requests! 🤍

[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟑 ꕤ

Bang Chan x fem!reader: daddy kink

summary: You wouldn't have known that your boyfriend had a certain thing for a certain word...

warnings: smut, the d word usage, jeongin being a little shit...

word count: 1.2k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

You were on your hands and knees, on Chris’ bed. He was moving inside of you, in and out, from behind you. His hands laid on your ass cheeks, gripping tightly. 

Chris’ hand came onto your ass to swat your cheek, making you mewl, muffled by the pillow under you. 

“You like that?” Chris asked you, his voice toned down due to Jeongin’s asleep form next door. 

You nodded your head and Chris angled his hips, hitting your spot harder, making you arch your back and moan brokenly. 

“I asked you a question, babe” he whispered to you.

“Y-yes, daddy” you moaned, your brain too much of a mush to actually think about what you were saying.

His hips came to a halt all of a sudden. 

Your eyes widened at the word that slipped past your lips.

Fuck. 

You fucked up. It only slipped up, you didn’t mean to actually call him that. 

Why did I call him that? Now he’s probably weirded out, he’s gonna break up with me, he’s gonna kick me out of his apartment, probably block me-

“What did you just say?” he asked you.

You bit your lip and clenched your eyes, wishing with all your might that the ground would just swallow you up whole. 

“I…”

“Say that again” Chris demanded you.

Oh… oh?

He liked it?

“I…

Chris surprised you by grabbing you by the hair, making your back hit his warm chest. The action made you yelp and grab his arm that was holding your hair, and the other one came to clutch his back. 

His free arm came to wrap your waist, holding you tightly.

“I told you… to say that again” he said slowly and dangerously. 

You gulped and looked back at him. “Chris… I…” you stammered, unsure of what to do.

“Come on… what did you just call me?” he smirked at you, making you squirm in your place. 

You blinked a couple of times, feeling dumb that your brain couldn’t seem to work properly. “D-daddy?”

You saw him clench his eyes and exhale through his nose. “Fuck, again” he moaned. 

“Daddy” you called him again, with more certainty this time. 

He started thrusting once again, with more force this time, punishing your spot with his tip. You almost fell back on your arms but Chris kept you in place, while his mouth was nibbling at your ear. 

“Keep calling me daddy, baby, come on” he urged you, and then grabbed your neck, applying slight pressure. 

He continued hitting that spot that made you see stars and slight white spots clouded your vision. “Da-daddy” you blabbered, the coherence in your brain inexistent as your nails dug into the back of his hand that was holding you in place. “Daddy, harder, please” 

Chris growled and pushed you down on the bed by the back of your back, his hands grabbed your hips and set a furious, punishing pace that had you screaming onto the pillows, not caring anymore about waking up the whole floor. 

He planted one of his feet on the bed and thrusted even deeper inside you, if it was even possible. 

“Daddy, daddy, I’m close” you whimpered, your fingers close to ripping the sheets to threads from how hard you were gripping them. 

“Fuuuck, babe, me too” he whined, his thrusts getting sloppier and slightly uneven, but still hard and fast nonetheless. 

You clenched around him as you felt the familiar burn on your lower stomach. 

“Daddy!” you whimpered loudly when you felt his fingers start to rub tight circles around your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your toes curled and legs shook as you felt the orgasm crash all over you, feeling like your body was about to pass out. 

You didn’t even notice Chris’ hard thrusts as the shallow noise of skin slapping on skin stopped when he stilled to let his cum fill you up completely to the brim. He panted loudly as he fell next to you on his back. 

His head turned to look at you while a hand brushed over your arm. “You okay, sweetie?” he asked you, worry lacing up with his tone as he saw how erratic your breath had become.

“I can’t feel anything… am I dead?” you asked him, making him chuckle out loud. 

He smiled widely and your heart flipped. “No, you’re alive, baby” he said, and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. “What was that earlier?” 

You blushed crimson red and hid your face on the pillow. “Nothing” you said, your voice muffled by the sheets. 

He giggled like a little kid and poked your side, making you squeal. “Yeah, what was that that you called me? Daddy?”

You looked at him in the eyes and bit your lip. “You sure seemed to like that shit?”

“Like it?” he asked and pulled you on top of him, making you wince due to the soreness in between your legs. The mixed juices from both of you were oozing out of you, hitting his leg but Chris didn’t seem to care at all. “I loved it, baby” he replied to you and you bit your lip. 

“I should call you that more often then” you said, raising your eyebrows teasingly.

“Oh, yeah, please” he said, kissing your lips. “Do it any time you want”

── .✦

Chris and you woke up the next day, and took a shower to start the day refreshed and clean from everything you did last night.

You dressed up in some loose jeans and a fit top, and put on some cute boots. 

“Do you wanna go out for lunch later? I have to hit the studio at three and I’m afraid I won't have much free time for us” he pouted.

“Of course, baby” you smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He arched his eyebrows after you pulled away.

“I’m not calling you daddy now, Chris, save that for later”

“Aww” he pouted and you laughed at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with you. 

You both got out of the room and found Jeongin washing the dishes from the breakfast he had. 

You sat down with Chris next to you and the youngest turned around and smiled at you. “Hey, guys” he chirply greeted you.

“Hey, Innie” you said with a smile.

“How did you guys sleep last night?” he asked curiously.

You choked on your own breath when you recognized his knowing smirk.

“Knock it off” Chris warningly said to him.

“Why should I… daddy?” Jeongin said slowly. 

Your eyes widened and your face blushed deep red.

“Jeongin!” Chris yelped, standing up abruptly “Shut up, and certainly don’t tell the others”

“Oh, no, I definitely won't’” he shook his head, feigning innocence. 

Chris looked at Jeongin smiling to himself as he shut himself inside his room. 

“Do you think he said something?” you asked him, watching him plop down on his seat once again.

Chris sighed and didn’t say anything, grabbing his phone. His eyes visibly widened when he clicked on the group chat he had with his eight children. He dropped the phone on the table and stood up again, walking towards Jeongin’s room. 

“I’m killing that son of a bitch”

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle

i apologize if i can't tag u :(

[frostedfragments]

exclusive tutorial ✧.* zayne x reader ✧.* 4.5k words ✧.* friends to lovers summary: you ask zayne to teach you how to kiss warnings!: messy kissing, dry humping, fingering, zayne cums in his pants lol, touch starved!zayne note: this came to me in a dream. im kidding. im just horny for pathetic zayne note2: part 2 is here

divider cred. @enchanthings-a

Zayne is in his office reviewing a recent surgery when you come barging into his office one Friday afternoon.

Windswept and pink-cheeked, you look radiant and it takes a few moments of blinking away the lingering text printed on his vision for him to realise you’re speaking.

“Did you hear me?” You sound…nervous, almost, which is out of character for someone who routinely interrupts his working day to sit in his office and drop bagel crumbs all over his carpet. Your eyes drift around the room, flying over his features for a beat before you’re looking away again, and it’s intoxicating, for some reason, to see you shy around him. Usually he’s the one who’s hesitant, too weary to blur the line between your friendship and the depraved, desperate thoughts he has about you when he’s alone in his apartment.

There’s a well-buried part of Zayne that chooses to file away that coy expression on your face for such a moment.

Glancing back to the screen of his computer, he continues typing, correctly assuming you will fall into your regular pattern and plop yourself on his desk any moment now.

It takes you three seconds to do exactly that as he speaks, “No, I didn’t. It’s almost as if I’m working right now,”

One of his favourite things to do is tease you, to have your nose scrunch in annoyance when he plays dumb on purpose, or when he pretends he doesn’t want you around. The secret he keeps locked up tight is that he wants you near him all the time, his hands itch with it. He notices you stick your tongue out at him from the corner of his eye, and he has to suppress the twitch of his lips. You’re back to your old self for only a moment before you seem to remember what it is you wanted to ask him.

“I have a date,”

It’s not a question, though it doesn’t really matter. The corner of Zayne’s brain that, eons ago, would have demanded he hammer his fists on his chest or pee on the desk to assert dominance takes over for a millisecond as he files through a dozen different scenarios which all seem wildly inappropriate for the news he’s just received. As usual, he manages to tame his base urges when it comes to you, and he nods, calm and cool as a cucumber.

Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve dated. Zayne has known you since he was eight, and you were six. It’s not like he hasn’t witnessed this before; for a long time the concept of you with other boys never bothered him. At least not until the two of you hit puberty and he started taking note of all the ways in which you were different; softer, sweeter, prettier. Since then, it’s been a part of your friendship he likes to ignore.

Except when you force him to confront it, that is.

“Very good,” He speaks around a sudden tightness in his throat, feigning sarcasm if only to distract by the sudden grip of panic on his chest, “I’m thrilled you decided to come to my place of work to inform me,”

“Zayne,” The way you whine his name has his thighs tensing under the desk, and he really wishes you wouldn’t do that. He mentally files that away for later too.

He sighs softly, taking his hands away from the keyboard and turning his body just enough so that you know you have his complete attention. As if you don’t have it all the time anyway.

“What is it?”

“I have a date,”

His hand clenches, “I heard,”

Inhaling deeply, you let out a breath like you’re about to confess something. The soft, pink flush on your cheeks deepens slightly and you start doing that thing again where you look anywhere but at him, “I wanted to ask if you would help me with something,”

“Anything,” He says, because it’s true. He almost wants to wince at how desperate to please you he is, but as usual, he stays neutral.

“I…ahh,” You bite your lip, and another year is shaved off of Zayne’s life, “I wanted to ask if you would teach me…hosjskkss,”

He frowns as you trail off, speaking the rest into your chest as you tilt your head down. Your cheeks are glowing pink now.

“What was that?”

“Teachmehowtokiss,” You respond, lifting your head slightly but still refusing to look at him, not that it matters. Zayne is convinced his physical form no longer exists and he’s now a pile of ash and glasses on the desk chair.

He swallows hard, needing the extra moisture in his mouth, speaking in the monotone of someone who’s just had a major brain injury, “You want me to teach you how to kiss,”

It takes a couple seconds, but you nod before squeaking and covering your face with your hands, speaking muffled through the sleeves of your hoodie, “I’ve never…ugh! This is so embarrassing. Maybe I should ask Caleb- “

“I’ll do it,” Zayne speaks so fast he almost leaps forward over the desk to stop the rest of that sentence from leaving your lips. He is selfish, and clearly has no regard for his own mental state, but like hell is he gonna let Caleb put his grubby paws on you.

You meet his gaze with wide, impossibly pretty eyes, and something throbs deep in Zayne’s gut. He thinks he might do just about anything to keep you looking at him like that.

“You mean it? You don’t think it’ll be…” You shrug, “weird?”

Weird is the last word Zayne would use to describe how kissing you would be, but he can’t think of any others right now, so he just shakes his head.

“It’ll be fine,” His voice is scratchy, and he clears it twice, just to have the words coming out sounding the same, “I get off work at seven. You can come over, or we could…”

He’s unsure where exactly you want to do this, but the prospect of kissing you in his office and then driving home with his cock hard as steel sounds unappealing.

“I’ll come over,” You say, voice a little dazed and your cheeks still pink, “see you later, Zayne,”

There’s a good few seconds between when you knock on Zayne’s door to when he opens it that you’re almost positive you’ve made a mistake.

Because really, what were you thinking? Second only to Caleb, Zayne is your oldest friend, and now you’re probably going to implode the friendship by locking lips with him. Of course, there’s no guarantee that you’ll have to actually kiss him to learn how to kiss, but it’s implied. And the implication is enough to have your stomach in knots.

Maybe Caleb would have been the better choice; a little more laid back, less likely to make a big deal out of the whole thing. Not that Zayne would hold it over you, or anything. The reason you’d asked him, stupidly, was because he’s a doctor. He’s good at removing emotions from certain situations. As if that matters at all…you swear it made sense in your head at the time, but now as Zayne swings open the door wearing a grey sweater and black sweatpants, you wonder if running is an option.

“Hey,” He says, his expression giving nothing away about whether or not he feels as awkward as you do. Sweat gathers at the base of your spine as you step inside, unconsciously inhaling that expensive cologne he wears; woodsy and addictive. He smells like a hot, rich man - which he is. Rich, anyway.

You’ve never really thought of Zayne as hot, more…devastatingly handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you think of princes in fairy tales, or the hot guys you see in k-dramas or something.

He closes the door and stands in the entryway, watching you from behind his glasses with a slight tilt to his head, “You okay?”

“Great. Never better,” You sound like an idiot, and you sweat again when Zayne’s lips tip up into a soft smile, his eyes getting that far away, dreamy look that makes you feel like a teenager around her crush.

Which obviously you’re not…you don’t have a crush, and you’re twenty-five.

Twenty-five and yet you still don’t know how to kiss.

Zayne takes your jacket, and like usual, you sit on the sofa, pulling your legs under you as you watch him move around the kitchen. He opens a cabinet, pulls out two glasses and brings them over, along with your usual bottle of wine. It’s tradition, routine, almost, and yet it makes you feel warm. Your stomach dips as he strolls over, so…big.

How had you never noticed how large he was? Sure, you noticed but you’ve never noticed. His build is large and yet he doesn’t appear bulky beneath his sweater, his collarbones jut just above the neckline and for an insane moment, your fingers tingle with the urge to touch them.

You stuff your hands beneath your thigh and keep them sandwiched there, unsure what to do with them for the time being.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Zayne asks, his voice soft as if always is, and for a second you forget all about the kissing lesson and just enjoy the company of your friend.

“Um, sure,”

He shifts a little, lips downturned before his eyes dart away, “Unless you wanted to get straight to the- “

“The movie is good for now,” You smile probably a little too widely at him, and you wonder if you look insane.

He levels you with a look, as if he sees through you, and it makes you want to squirm under his gaze, “We don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, ___,”

He looks away before you do, moving to pour you a glass of red wine and you take it eagerly, as if it’s a lifeline. Surely after a glass you’ll feel a little less…like this. Jittery, achy, sweaty - as if there’s a thousand little feathers brushing your skin every time he glances your way.

This has never happened before, this awkward energy. With Zayne you’ve always felt safe, relaxed, and you never had to worry about whether or not your hair looks good, or if you have spinach in your teeth. He has always been a comfort blanket for you, but now with the thoughts of kissing on your mind, you can’t seem to relax. Your brain files through all the scenarios it can generate; will he kiss you soft? Slow? Will he put his hands on your face, or your waist, or in your hair? What does he normally do when he kisses women?

“When is the date?” Zayne asks, not looking at you and instead focusing on the tv, trying to find something mindless for the two of you to watch before you begin. His voice sounds scratchy, as if he’s coming down with something, but you get distracted once the movie starts and he sits back against the sofa, turning to look at you with an unreadable expression.

“Tomorrow night,” You reply. It’s a co-worker who asked you, a nice, good-looking guy who works in the office above yours. He offered to take you for food and it’s been so long since you dated, Simone convinced you to say yes, “We’re just getting food,”

Zayne nods, though he doesn’t look away, “So you’re already planning to kiss him? He must be quite the catch,” That odd look is still there in the depths of his eyes - moss green with a hint of amber.

“Wh- uh, yeah. Maybe, I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down into your wine, “I just think that it’s kinda embarrassing that I haven’t kissed anyone yet,”

“Nothing about you is embarrassing,” He replies so fast it catches you off guard, and when you glance up at him, the tips of his ears have gone pink. There’s a tension in his shoulders as he looks at you, almost easy to miss if you didn’t know him so well.

The two of you sink into a comfortable silence after that, both watching the movie and laughing when the girl on the plane starts insulting the air steward. After a while you’ve relaxed somewhat, only one glass into the wine, you’re back to your factory settings, awkwardness gone as you slouch into the sofa, your shoulder pressed against Zayne’s.

It’s when the character on the screen kisses the love interest before the credits roll that you remember why you came. You lift your head from where it had fallen against the sofa and you turn to find Zayne already looking at you, that strange look on his face again. Your lips roll inward as you look at him, your eyes flitting unwillingly from his mouth and back again twice before you look away, embarrassed.

Zayne’s hand reaches out to grasp yours, and his voice is rumbly and warm when he speaks, “Do you want to go?”

“No,” You swing your head around to face him, almost too fast, “I…ah, I’m just nervous,”

He keeps watching you for a moment longer before he shifts, turning so he’s facing you fully on the sofa, “It’s only me,”

“Yeah, but I’ve never kissed you,”

“You said you’ve never kissed anyone,” He tilts his head again, “Why don’t you take the lead? I’ll stay here like this,”

He remains still, not rigid, but relaxed. More relaxed than you feel as you mimic his posture, turning so you’re fully facing him. He’s backlit by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the golden summer sunset, and you feel an unfamiliar dip in your stomach again.

He’s watching you, cheeks a little rosy from the wine, and his lips are stained to match. You linger on them for a moment, licking the red wine taste off your own and wondering briefly if he will taste like you. You must be taking too long, because he shifts again, and a pillow finds its way into his lap. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and you feel as if you’re exposed.

The way Zayne is looking at you is nothing like any of the other times you’ve noticed him staring; his jaw is tense, eyes darting all over your face, he almost looks quietly angry, but you know that can’t be it.

“____?”

“Sorry,” You exhale softly, shuffling so you’re on your knees. It’s better this way - now you’re eye-to-eye with Zayne, though it makes that feeling in your stomach even worse.

Before you can think otherwise, you place your hands on his shoulders, briefly noting the way they tense and then relax. You mean to lean forward, but Zayne’s eyes have you feeling like a mouse caught in a trap

“Can you close your eyes?” You ask, and his lips twitch, but he does as you ask, his eyes sliding closed. His black lashes fan along his cheekbones, and you almost want to sigh wistfully - he really is handsome.

The second attempt is more successful without Zayne’s intense gaze, and you lean toward him, moving until your noses bump together and Zayne exhales softly against your lips.

There’s a sharp, warm press in your lower stomach, as if your body is just now realising what you’re doing. The feel of Zayne’s soft breaths against your lips is maddening; you’re hot all over, and it’s sudden, out of nowhere. The hands on his shoulder’s clench as your fingers dig in, and before you can chicken out, you’re pressing your lips to his.

He is going to explode, or come, either way it’s taking every ounce of restraint Zayne has to let you take the lead, to get used to him and this new, terrifying step in your friendship. His stomach drops like he’s on a rollercoaster, hands clenched over the pillow hiding his obvious erection that reared its head the moment he saw your pupils dilate.

Your lips are soft, warm as you press gently against him. He wishes kissing with his eyes open was socially acceptable because he hates that he can’t see you, that he can’t get a front row seat of you on his couch, hands gripping his shoulders, lips against his. For a long moment, you don’t move, you just stay like this, and Zayne can’t bring himself to complain. But, you tilt your head slightly, pushing your lips against his harder, and he feels his cock twitch impatiently.

Inexperience isn’t usually something that turns him on - frankly, the idea of deflowering someone has him coming out in a rash. It’s not that he thinks he’s bad at kissing, or sex, but the expectations put upon him are dizzying. He wants to make this kiss good for you, even while an animal part of him thrashes against its restraints, begging him to ruin you for any other man. His hands fist against the pillow in his crotch, and when you pull away, he almost groans at the loss of contact.

Zayne is the first to open his eyes, just a second before you, but it’s enough. Your lips aren’t well-kissed, not by his standards, but he can spot the signs of arousal a mile away. Your cheeks are flushed a gorgeous shade of pink, your lips even deeper, and when you let your tongue dart out to wet them just before opening your eyes, he feels a sharp punch of need deep in his stomach.

You exhale shakily against his lips, and he can feel his restraint fraying at the seams. He wants you so badly he feels as if he could come just from the way you’re gazing blearily at his lips, as if you’re drunk on him. It’s a maddening rush to his ego, to see you so undone after barely kissing him, and he can’t stop himself from lifting a hand, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb along your lower lip.

“Was that okay?” You ask him, voice thick with something he is too chicken-shit to name, for fear that he will actually pick you up and fuck you into his couch.

He swallows hard, licking the taste of your lip balm off his lips, “Y-yeah. It was,”

This is it, he thinks, this is all you wanted from him, and it’s more than enough. More than he ever expected when it came to you. Even a chaste, soft kiss is enough to give him material to jerk off to for the rest of the year like the desperate man you’ve turned him into. But the tender, hesitancy of the moment lasts only a few seconds before you speak again, obliterating his final shred of sanity.

“Can we do it again?”

He should say no. You have a date planned, you’re his best friend in the whole world, and he made peace long ago with the fact he was destined to want you from afar. The unrequited nature of his feelings and his desires have always been somewhat safe for him, something he can use to control himself around you, but to hear you ask him for more of his lips on yours awakens something hot and vicious in his gut.

He doesn’t really reply, too dumbstruck to speak, and you gaze up at him with dark eyes, dangerously eager eyes, your voice barely above a whisper, “Will you kiss me this time? Like you do with other women?”

The mere thought of it has the tip of his cock growing slick, need curling in his stomach, worming its way around the base of his spine as he tenses. But, he’s not as strong as he thought he was, because within two seconds he’s nodding, leaning in and groaning all in one breath, his lips catching yours in a real kiss. Your hands fist the material of his sweater, tugging him closer, and he loses it, brain splattered against his skull. Now, there is only you and him and this pulsing desire he has to tuck you against his body and make you feel just how bad he’s wanted you.

His hands find your soft waist, palming the dip and clutching hard enough for your t-shirt to rise up a little. The sliver of skin brushing against his pinky does insane things to his psyche, and he pulls you, knocking away the pillow in his lap and pressing you there instead. You gasp into his mouth and he wants to snarl into the kiss, wants to make you understand.

Do you feel how bad I need you? Can you feel how hot and hard and aching I am?

Your body is like heaven in his arms, and he suddenly realises he could die happy now, knowing intimately how the weight of you feels in his lap, pressing against his cock, knees on either side of his hips. A soft moan against his lips has him bucking up against you, thankful for your choice to wear a skirt so he has access to the warmest, wettest part of you instantly. He yearns, needs and wants like he’s never wanted anything. He wants to rake his nails up your thighs, push aside your underwear and run his fingers through the mess he hopes he’ll find there. The mess he put there, he realises, and he growls into the kiss at the thought.

“Zayne,” You whimper, whining like you did earlier in his office, and he can’t help but smile at the sound. He’s fucked his own hand to your voice more times than he wants to admit, and now he leaks against his sweatpants, drunk on the way you’re babbling in his arms, your lips wet from his spit and is tongue as it laves them, eagerly asking entrance into your mouth.

“Open for me, beautiful. Open your mouth for me,” Zayne’s voice is almost unrecognisable to his own ears, a soft, firm rumble. When you do as he asks, he lets his hands drift down to your hips, pushing and pulling you along the ridge in his pants as his tongue brushes yours.

It’s messy, and you’re not sure what you’re doing, that much is evident, but it doesn’t even matter. He wants every inch of you messy over him, wants to keep this lesson going until you leave his apartment with the knowledge of how Zayne kisses you, and no one else. He wants you to be as gone for him as he is for you, as he always has been.

You’re lost on him now, hips moving of their own accord, and Zayne thinks that if he can make you come, he will take that as his greatest accomplishment in life. Forget med school, forget every surgery he completed that others failed. All he cares about is the sounds falling from your lips, the way your fingers have threaded through his hair, the fact his apartment is filled with the sounds of your kisses, of your panting breaths, his deep groans as you rock against him. Nothing else matters.

His name falls from your lips again, like you’re asking for something, but you don’t know what. He pulls away from your slick, swollen lips only to run his tongue up your neck, relishing in the way you tremble against him.

“What is it, ___? What do you need?” He rasps against your ear, “You need me to make you come?”

You nod eagerly, clutching him tight enough that he feels flames roaring up his spine. He isn’t gonna last much longer with you riding him like this, and like hell is he gonna come without taking care of you first.

“Okay,” He breathes, winded and totally out of his depth. He’s never lost control like this, never had his hands shake with it, but he takes a deep, steadying breath, “Okay,”

His hand brushes your thigh and you sigh, the sound falling into a moan as you continue to roll your hips in circles, so hard that Zayne’s eyes roll back before he grips your skin, pushing up your skirt until he finds the spot he wants. You gasp, breath ragged where you kiss and lick his jaw, and he groans deep in his throat when he finds just what he’d hoped for.

“So fucking wet,” He murmurs, dazed and drunk off of you, “You got this wet from me kissing you, huh?” He knows damn well he was doing more than just kiss you, but he doesn’t correct himself. Instead, he palms your damp underwear, pressing against the material so he can feel the contours of your pussy. He uses his fingers to push the material aside, mouth watering when he drags his fingers through the center of you, “God, fuck,”

“Please,” You whisper, “Please, please -”

“Shh, beautiful,” He presses a soft kiss to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, a polar opposite to the kisses he’d given you a moment ago, “I’ve got you, okay? Does it hurt?” He doesn’t know why he asks, maybe because he’s so hard beneath you that he’s beginning to see double.

“So bad,” You sob into his shoulder, rocking your hips against his fingers as he continues to explore you, avoiding the spot where you need him and just enjoying the wet, silky, warmth of you. When you whisper again, so soft he barely hears you begging him, he smiles, out of his mind with it. He wants you to beg, and so he fucks his fingers into your soft, pliant pussy until you cry out. “Oh, god! Oh, please, please - t-there, yes. Yes -”

“Holy fuck,” He murmurs as you tighten up on him, squeezing so hard he can hear the wet squelch as he attempts to carry on thrusting his middle and ring fingers into you, eager to feel it. He blearily wonders what you would feel like coming on his cock before he loses the battle against his oncoming orgasm, coming wetly against the material of his sweatpants. “Oh fuck, shit,”

You’re still shaking when he pulls his fingers out of you, your head laying on his shoulder. He hadn’t noticed the room get darker as the sun finally set, but now the two of you are alone in the glow of the tv, still stuck and waiting on the netflix homepage. The only sound in the room is your collective breathing, soft pants as you catch your breaths.

Zayne’s mind clears once the cloud of lust dissipates, and he feels a cold stab of fear deep in the centre of his chest. He’s ruined it, he thinks, he’s lost you forever. You’re going to leave and it’s going to be awkward, and why couldn’t he just keep his damn hands off of you -

“Zayne?” You whisper, breath ghosting over his collarbones.

He audibly swallows, closing his eyes in preparation for the words.��We shouldn’t have done that, this was a mistake…

“Yes?”

You shuffle against him, like maybe your foot is falling to sleep in the awkward position you’re in, but you make no effort to move. When you do speak, your voice is shy, if a little hoarse, but oh, so sweet.

“You’re a really good kisser,”

The cold icy dread Zayne had been waiting in cracks, and warm seeps in. He huffs a laugh, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his lips to your hair.

[hiraethwrote]

contents : f!reader, stressed and overworked satoru, pretty much pure fluff, profanity, baking, somewhat proofread, no use of y/n wc <1k an : happy birthday to the loml <3 that's it... that's the post

This was the last thing Satoru needed right now.

It had been a long day — much like most mornings, he had to carefully wiggle out of your grip in your shared bed to head to work, only to have the higher ups ride his neck from dawn until dusk. And today, for some reason, his students had decided to be particularly difficult, arguing on whatever he said.

Maybe he was just more short tempered than normal today, as he had a perfect vision of how he wanted the day to go — lazy morning, slowly waking up next to you as you’re nothing but tangled limbs, have a share breakfast, then do absolutely nothing of importance while graced with your company. Was that too much to ask for his birthday?

Seemed like it.

And what greets him first when he enters your apartment isn’t your warm embrace — no, instead it’s the scenery of his home looking like a complete mess before a frustrated groan is heard, followed by a loud “fuck, just work god dammit”.

He wanted to relax, rot on the couch with you pressed up against him before sleep eventually trapped you in oblivion and he could carry you into the bedroom where he could fall asleep next to you.

Instead, something is wrong — he doesn’t need to see it to know. His entire body feels it when something’s off with you, and he won’t be able to rest until he knows you’re at peace with whatever is causing you trouble.

“Piece of shit machinery,” he hears you say as he turns the corner to enter the kitchen. And though the scene is a mess, it’s a whole different mess than what he expects to see. “Ten thousand yen for this not to do its fucking job,” you say through gritted teeth.

Satoru lets his eyes roam every corner of the kitchen. There’s bowls and tools everywhere, flour covering the floor, some semi successful attempts of pastries on the table — there’s even what he suspects to be cake batter travelling up the walls, wondering how the hell you managed to do that.

“What’s this?” he breaths in confusion, your frame jumping at the sudden sound of his voice.

“Satoru!” You groan as you turn to face him. “No! You’re not supposed to be home yet,” you clap your hands to dust off the access flour.

If it was even possible, you were more of a mess than your surroundings. Your apron had definitely seen better days, frosting speared across your cheek and your hair tied up in a… birds nest was probably the best description.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” it came out nearly like a cry as your hands came flying to cover your face before dragging them through your hair, leaving white flour in its trail. “I wanted to do this for you! I mean, all that you do for me, especially with your busy schedule. Then I couldn’t make up my mind on what to make, because let’s admit it, sweet is your favourite flavour. So I thought, hey let’s just make them all. You deserve it after all, but then the damn machine decided to be a little bitch. I just wanted to do something special for your birthday-“

Your rambling is cut short as Satoru captures your rambling pout in a deep and passionate kiss, a hand on each side of your face. When he eventually pulls away, you’re left speechless and face flushed warm.

“My god, I love you,” he breathes, staring into your eyes with all the devotion he has for you, and it still doesn’t feel like he is able to do his feelings justice.

“It’s just cake, ‘Toru,” you say with a shy giggle. “Or more like four different halves of cake.”

“It’s about more than the cake.” His voice is low, nearly fragile, letting his thumb stroke tenderly across your cheek, never even daring to let his eyes leave yours.

Sure, it was just cake — but to him it was also the effort. The fact that you’d wanted to do this for him, specifically. The time, the work, the dedication — all things you didn’t owe him, but something you just wanted to do for him to show how much you loved him.

“But they didn’t even come out right-“

“I don’t care,” he smiled, leaning forward to press a soft peck on your nose before resting his forehead against yours. “It probably tastes amazing anyway.”

“Yeah, I used a shit ton of sugar,” carefully pulling away to look at his face.

He smirks again, thumb wiping away the frosting on your face before licking it off. “Hmm, think I gotta eat some to be sure.”

“Well, help yourself. They’re all for you after all,” you step away to gesture towards your creations on the dining table, his eyes immediately drawn to the chocolate cake with ‘happy birthday baby’ jankily written on top.

“Thank you,” he says softly, hand trailing down your arms to loosely grab ahold of your fingers. “I really love you, you know?”

“I know,” you smile in return and give his hand a squeeze. “I love you too.”

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[sexcnanami]

minors dni, 18+ content

imagine wanting to surprise and treat satoru with breakfast in bed on Valentine’s day, but poor boy could barely stay asleep for much longer the moment you left the comfort of your shared bedroom to head for the kitchen. you had only slipped on one of his white shirts and went right to work in preparing the best meal you could think of before you hear his sluggish footsteps approach you from behind, lazily wrapping his arms over your shoulders as he presses against your back, his large, obvious morning wood occasionally grazing your ass. but that’s when he perks up, the sensation feeling…unrestricted. 

“Good morning handso-SATORU!” you’re cut off the moment he shamelessly raises your top, revealing your bare bottom-half on clear display as a mischievous smile was planted on his lips. you weren’t wearing any panties and he was going to take full advantage of the opportunity presented to him.

“Don’t blame my curiosity,” satoru chuckles. “Just stay focused on the food 'til I'm done.” 

“Done with wha-” you’re cut off again but this time it’s to the feeling of his face indulging in your ass cheeks, forcing you to let out a small noise at the sudden contact. you feel his hands smoothly gliding against the soft, supple skin of your thighs, your back arching against his face further as you try to keep your focus on the food cooking on the stove. you grip the utensils a bit more firmly, feeling a bit more grounded and stable until his curious tongue slides between your folds, a sharp gasp falling past your lips. a satisfied hum leaves him at how wet you already were for him, a short chuckle emerging from the depths of his throat. 

“Did the thought of me ambushing you really make you this excited?” he asks, his voice coming out raspily. before you could choke out an answer, he plunges his long finger smoothly into your pussy, causing you to bite down on your lip. your vision blurs, threatening to close despite the focus you needed to maintain to continue your original plan. why did he have to disrupt the nice gesture you were trying to do for him? but most importantly…why did your own body have to betray you?

you feel him toy with the fat of your ass before pulling his finger out, the audible squelch bringing music to his ears before licking a long stripe between your folds yet this instance, he was desperate for the taste of you coating his tongue. your hands tremble, struggling to flip the pancakes but you couldn’t deny how good his mouth always felt on you. a part of you could tell satoru knew he what he was doing, both below you and how you were trying to still cook. it definitely felt as though he wanted all of your attention. you manage to flip over one of the cakes, the sight of the underside appearing a couple shades darker than golden makes you feel a bit accomplished before his tongue suddenly penetrates you almost like a punishment. the moment you cry out his name, his grip on your thighs is unwavering, practically prying open your legs to spread further as his face disappears back into the fat of your ass, his tongue running deep inside of your drenched pussy. your body begins to writhe in pleasure, your eyes shutting closed the second you felt his tongue curling inside you, exploring every possible twitch of your body with more pressure from him as it brings you closer to the edge of your orgasm. your walls desperately clench around his tongue, feeling it vigorously threaten to reach further and further inside your pussy, his mouth panting heavily as if he was ready to receive everything you had to give him. you feel yourself squirm against him stiffly as his grip continues to hold your thighs in place, your orgasm shooting through you and causing your entire body to shiver all while satoru greedily licks you clean. as you came down from your high, you open your eyes the moment you hear him chuckle from beside you, only to find the contents of your breakfast for him burnt as you quickly turn off the stove. 

“Don’t even worry about it cutie,” he smiles, coming down from his amusement as he notices your sad expression. “I made reservations for brunch and everything, one of the many things I got planned for us today.” you perk up at his words, feeling assured yet still feeling guilty.

“But I really wanted to do something nice for you though.” you sheepishly say.

“And that’s what dessert will be for,” he pecks your cheek. “Besides, I’d rather spend the day showing off and treating my valentine.” his words force the smile to creep onto your face before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, your smile growing at the taste of yourself on him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Satoru.”

[animasola86]

SMUT DRABBLES: Slip'n'Slide

A/N: Just a little spicy shower scene between a nameless man (who could be anyone you like) and a female reader (no use of y/n, reader is of age and has female genitalia).

WARNINGS: Explicit! Daddy kink, Dd/lg dynamics. Pet names (baby/baby girl, Daddy). Size difference. Frottage.

WORDS: 802

"Do you want me to touch you, baby girl?" he rasped, his fingertips dipping between your butt cheeks.

You stiffened slightly, pausing the squirming, before you pushed your rear against his big hands, a mumbled "Yes" escaping you. A rumble went through his chest when he gave a little laugh, slipping his hands lower, cupping your ass properly. And then he lifted you effortlessly, pulling you up and against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck while you instinctively pressed your thighs into his sides.

He shifted you slightly, one hand curled around your shoulder, the other slipping beneath you, and then it happened, your heated center pushed right against his cock, hard and stiff, pointing upwards, pressed between his lower stomach and your body. The spray of the water hit your back, a steady stream of warmth adding to the heat gathering low in your core.

His hands settled on your waist, a strong grip, and when you leaned back a little to look at him, you saw him watching you, his face tight, that muscle in his jaw twitching, and his eyes were... intense. There was undeniable hunger. A dark stare.

"Cross your legs behind me," he told you, and you did. "Hold onto my shoulders, yes, like that. And now, grind on me, baby girl."

He started the motion by gently moving your body up and down so that his shaft would press right between your labia, the head catching on your clit, and just that first stroke already blurred your vision.

Your hands dug into his shoulders, your pelvis working against him, up and down, back and forth, a slow rubbing and grinding, the heat and bulk of him gliding through your slick slit. The tension grew, your lips parted, chest heaving, heart thundering. He kept his hold on you, watching you, guiding you as you moved against him. Little moans escaped you, your limbs tensing and twitching around him.

You could feel him getting even harder, throbbing against you. Every upwards slide and downwards stroke sent shivers down your spine, little tingles that went all the way into your toes and fingertips, and when you could barely move anymore, he kept going, pushing you up and down, his fingers tight around your waist, probably leaving bruises, but you needed the strong hold, the reminder that he was there, helping you.

The friction felt like nothing you'd ever felt before, somehow both soothing and scorching hot, burning through your nerves, setting the cotton in your head on fire, and all you could feel was him. You tried keeping up with the grinding and sliding, but all those shudders felt out of your control, so you leaned in, wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your cheek against his, the scratch of his beard adding to the sensation. You were breathing frantically as your hips undulated against him, faster now, desperate to find that sweet release.

A low groan vibrated through him as he shifted his hands to cup your rear, pushing and pulling you into him, the additional pressure sending even more shock waves through your body. The heat built and built, your clit throbbing, the head of his cock rubbing and prodding it, his warmth all-consuming. You were teetering on the edge, so close, and then he spoke, low in your ear, a deep thrum that shot straight into your clenching cunt.

"Come for me, baby," he breathed. "Come on Daddy's cock."

You couldn't even control it anymore, it just happened, the tension almost painful until it finally exploded, like fireworks behind your eyelids, a sudden surge of energy through your entire body, a soothing wave, a roaring storm, all at once. You came with a croaked little cry, a breathless "Daddy!", burying your face in the crook of his neck, your hands clawing at his shoulders, your legs twitching as your toes curled.

He held you, slowed the grinding motions, and you noticed him twitching too, a little jerk through his big body, another quiet groan, before something warm and wet gathered between your bodies, slippery on your already soapy skin. You felt him, thick and warm, pressed against your swollen labia, the echo of that delicious friction still thrumming through your nerves. Exhaling loudly, you relaxed against him, holding onto him.

His lips brushed against your damp forehead. "My good girl," he whispered, his voice rougher than before, causing you to smile into his neck. You felt safe in his arms, any kind of worry silenced, pushed to the far back.

"Thank you, Daddy," you murmured, slowly making the effort to lean back a little, angling your cunt a bit more against him, the motion making that muscle in his jaw twitch as you looked at him. The hardness left his eyes when he smiled at you. "That felt really good..."

End notes: Thanks for reading! This is actually a little preview for my Dd/lg story LOST & FOUND.

If you like to read more Smut Drabbles, check out my pinned post/Masterlist!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[beautysamour]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑: 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬

— 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“Why?” Your boyfriend looked at you with a raised brow, two silicone toys in each of his hands.

You let out a shaky breath, the entire situation making it difficult for you to breath. You weren’t sure how Miguel was going to react when you brought using toys during sex—he’s always been the type to prefer using himself to make you cum, he took pride in it.

He straightens his back, “If I haven’t been making you feel good—“

“That’s not it,” you interrupt, taking one of the vibrators out of his hand, “I just thought it’d be fun to try,” suddenly you couldn’t look him in the eye, “a—and mj got it for us as a gift, it’d be rude to give it back after accepting it.”

You peek up at Miguel and find him looking at the sex toy in his hand. You hold your breath hoping that he’d—

“Alright. Are these the only ones?”

Without realizing it, your back straightens and your eyes have a sudden glow in them that was dulled by the previous nervousness, “For now, yeah.”

He chuckled at your wording, you planned on getting more?

“Great,” he sticks out his hand with the vibrator on his palm, “We can try these out after the dinner, yeah?”

Your body deflates at his words. After dinner? You can’t promise you’ll be able to wait that long, not with the other vibrator in your possession.

Well, that’s only if you stayed here.

He leans forward attempting to press a kiss on your forehead before his body falls against yours, his eyes fall down to your hand gripping onto his tie as he stops his tip with a hand against the wall.

His eyes flicker to yours seeping with confusion, “What was that for?”

You hum innocently, questioning his question.

Suddenly you release your grip on his tie, softly patting it against his chest as you smooth out the wrinkles. “You might be gone long—no—you will be gone long,” you rest your other hand on his chest, and start tracing circles with the vibrator on his left tit, “and the dinner will get rather boring pretty quickly.”

You lean up on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss against his jaw, “And the house gets lonely without you,” you press another kiss along his jaw, “And I’ll get bored—“

“Ok,” Miguel roughly breathes out, his large hands rest on your hips—the other vibrator still in his hand, “Do you want to come with me then?”

You smile. “I’d love too.”

;;

“I understand, Mr. O’Hara, but with the recent hit the industry took…”

You gripped onto Miguel’s hand as your vision went blurry, “Mig…Miguel,” you bite your tongue hoping the suppress the moan that nearly came out.

The coworker who was talking turned his head to you, “Oh, Mrs. O’Hara? Is everything alright?”

Your grip strengthened around your boyfriend’ hand as sweat started to trail down your throat and your pussy clenched around the toy.

“Mrs. O’Hara?”

You forced yourself to look up, to look at the coworker, and to speak. Your lips, both of them, trembled as they opened—a moan sitting prettily on the tip of your tongue.

“A—I—“

Your boyfriend was so sweet, so loving, and so attentive. He knew you were close, you just needed a little more, and he was more than happy to help you out. Especially when you were so obviously struggling to get any noise out of your mouth.

He played with the remote in his other hand under the table, pretending to look at you with worry in his eyes as a beautiful moan rips out your throat.

You pray that when you get up there won’t be a puddle of cum.

“Uh—uhm—Mrs. O’Hara—?”

“Pardon me,” Miguel heroically interrupts as his holds your close to his, “My wife isn’t feeling well, could you excuse us for a bit?”

“Oh—of course, yes.” The coworkers all move out of the way, making a clear path for the both of you to go through.

You cling onto him as you try to stand up, your legs tremble as you take your first step. “Miguel,” you breath out, “Ca—can we go, ah, home?”

You close your eyes, your over sensitive pussy is able to track every movement the little toy inside of you makes—it makes you pull away from Miguel, you’re body acting as it would whenever he’s in you.

Your heart breaks a little when you hear him laugh—and your legs nearly give out as the toy goes up to its next setting, “Miguel!”

He ignores your cry, maneuvering you around the tables until the bathrooms are right in front of you. He hums a tune, almost mockingly, as he opens the family bathroom, “Come on tesoro, get in.”

An almost heart wrenching whine leaves your throat as Miguel locks the door. You fall to the floor and your mouth opens, a silent moan comes out as you cum on your drenched underwear. Your back arches as the toy never stops it’s movement.

Miguel tsks as he kneels next to you, “What’s wrong cariño,” he feigns innocence, “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“Can’t,” you choke out, “Ca—can’t!”

He holds the remote out, purposely putting in the your line of sight. He twirls it around his fingers, “You said you wanted to go home? Thought you wanted to come with me, tesoro.”

You grind your pussy against the cold floor as you feel your body start to heat up.

“Miguel,” you cry, “Why are you being mean?”

You lean into his touch as his hand cups your cheek to make you look at him. He looks at you, eyes soft as he rubs your cheek.

You turn your head to press a kiss on his palm, stupidly taking this act from him as kindness.

Your head drops immediately, tighs pressing against each other as the vibrations in your pussy get more intense.

“F—fuck.”

Miguel presses a kiss to the top of your head as he watches you crumble underneath him, “Sorry tesoro, but you’re just so pretty like this.”

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

✦✧✦ CHAPTER 5 ✦✧✦

Poor Goldilocks, Nothing Is Just Right

Warning this part contains: Mania, Self- Harm (wanting to remove your skin), Body Pain, Blood & Bleeding, Pain, Cursing, being held down, minor drugging (just to make you eepy) Dark Theme, becoming pwd , mentions of being crippled or disabled, manipulations/manipulative actions, platonic kisses(?), tons of typo, barely proofread and Evil Reader

Note: I forgot to mention but In the previous chapter MC is 8-9 and in this one MC is 10-11 years old, The scary part is only in the first part, second is me just giving you a Victor treatment and a very nice sort of closing for Bruce's part, also again forgive me if Bruce is OOC it's hard to see Bruce/Batman as a cold person when the batman I knew in my childhood is selfless and compassionate and yes batman cries he cried plenty of times before what do you mean?.

MASTERLIST pages ↻4 , 5.....➢

NOW PLAYING ↻◁ ||▷↺ 4ÆM - Grimes ılıılıılılılıılıılı

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My body aches, bones feels like they're breaking and healing again, my skin is so heavy and itched, it itches, it's itchy, I want it off, I want to rip it off, I GET IT OFF, GET IT OFF ME!!!!.

My eyes opened with a sharp jerk of my body I screeched out in disgust, jumping from where I was laying as I used my hand to scratch and scratch and scratch till my nails dug through my skin and let blood seep out from the wounds.

'EVERYTHING IS WRONG! RIP IT! RIP IT! RIP IT! WE DON'T WANT THIS! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF!' We scream and yell as the room reverberates from my voice and the pounding in my head. The shadows rush, bouncing off the walls, and it seems like there's a shift in reality as I feel my soul and body splitting up into many, many pieces.

I can feel my veins pumping too much blood, traveling around and not being received properly, my eyes almost pop off from how hot, searing, and boiling my new blood is inside of me.

'I DON'T WANT THIS! IT'S WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!' They yell out more as they use my hands to hit my head and try to pull the hair out of my scalp.

The room kept spinning and everything seemed to glitch out in my brain as I fell off from something high and landed smack on the floor their hand gripped the back of my head and pulled it back preparing to smash my head on the ground.

As my forehead nears the hard surface, a sudden force tackled me. I become aware of a pair of hands pinning my wrist on the floor making my legs kick out in the absence of my hands in retaliation and raging out trying to twist their hold as my spit mixed with blood foams on my mouth as I yell for them to not touch me.

Another pair then reached out to trap my legs down, hearing someone else voice whisper to me as I slowly became weary and groaned in the ache of the harm caused to my body, focusing up as my vision came back clearer, as air fills up in my lungs and settling my breathing again, my eyes make out the head of Bruce as he stares down at me while my vision gets better.

He was peering down at me wearing a look of fear and guilt on his face as I caught the movements of his mouth realizing that he was talking directly to me, I calmed down, and slowly my body slacks on fatigue as he let go before moving to scoop my body up.

He lays my head on his chest making sure it won't move before standing along with me in his arms and laying me back to something soft and cushiony under my form, I stare back at him with my eyes half-lidded and tired while he sits on the side from what I can discern as a bed.

'It's too fluffy and silky for my taste, this isn't my bed, it's not right' I thought as I watched Bruce study me with a look of sadness as someone was moving behind him, Alfred holding a tray of glass with a pitcher of water walk towards Bruce's side -noting the patchiness of my throat- and setting it down as I observe the two talk, the pounding of my head muffled their voices to the point it's the only the vibrations of my eardrums I can hear.

I kept eyeing them until Alfred moved, pouring the water, and reached out to tilt my head before slowly tipping the glass assisting me to drink and feeling my body weight like lead.

Bruce then leans down and lays a kiss on the top of my brows surprising me even when I'm deep on falling asleep as he holds my limp hand and holds it under his warmer one, gripping it and squeezing in broken rhythm with a thumb over the pulse on my wrist, either to count my heartbeats or maybe to make sure if I'm still alive? I couldn't care less.

'You aren't supposed to notice me, you're not a part of this, you shouldn't be anywhere near me, you don't belong in my new family'

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Staring at the beautiful wooden handcraft cane, I reach out and caress the squeaky clean polish to the head where soft leather wraps around its handle along with a cute carving of a tiny baby bat on top.

Picking it up from the opened box with the fancy brand name printed over the cover where it was situated on top of a black cushion, I held it on my lap and tested its weight on my palm.

A brand new cane made just for me he said, to help me walk around since after the dip in that pit only my right leg was the casualty in the accident, it was all new, and with no study from what it truly is, it's hard to know what really causes the damage on my leg.

Which was confusing since from my basic understanding and knowledge from before, The pit was filled by Lazarus and weirdly enough it's the Joker who found it, even more suspicious is the location of the pits are only a few and the one I was tied to was never near the original one here in Gotham before.

Not only that Lazarus was supposed to heal, to resurrect the dead even give someone powers or just the simple physical enhancements, so why did I become crippled instead? why did it become the opposite instead?!.

Gripping the cane tightly, I huffed and screamed as I threw it away from me proceeding to thrash everything on the table.

"This isn't supposed to happen!! I didn't want this! all I wanted was a normal life and I ended up becoming a handicap!" I punched the wooden surface before kicking myself off the chair.

As I try to get even just one step, My right leg completely fails to carry my weight causing me to fall and painfully drop on the carpeted floor ending me just curling down and wailing in anger.

In the corner of my eye, I pick out their form standing in the corner of the room just staring at me blankly before blending back in the shadows when Bruce entered the field of my vision and kneeled in front of me.

"Hey hey hey you're ok, everything we'll be fine". He lifts up my upper body and hold me close.

"I'll find away to fix this, ok?" He said as he tried to comfort me but I just snap at him and tried to push me away.

'Liar' they slither out behind him and sneer lowering their head on the side of his face and going back like the way they came out as my vision glitched before me.

"Fix? Fix me?!" I shout slapping his hand away. "How?! huh? Tell me how?! This wouldn't even happened if you just listened to me in the first place!".

"I never wanted to have a stupid debut! I never wanted to be kidnapped by that goddamn clown and this is what I get?! becoming a fucking limping idiot for the rest of my life?!"

"Because of you! It's because of you I ended up having my leg practically useless! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!". I spitted out as I balled up my fist and started hitting him anywhere my hands could land.

As I holler and shriek at his face, he just closes his eyes and takes my hits head on not even trying to defend himself.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I wish I never stayed here! I wish I never met you! I wish you just left me in that orphanage and let me rot ther-".

"That's enough! I know it's my fault that I was too late to save you and I shouldn't have forced you to do anything". He cut me off by grabbing my hands and stopping me as he looked me in the eye.

"But I promise to do anything I can to make sure you live a better life, you're my child and I am your father, you are my responsibility and my only priority from now on". He declares as he lowers his head and lays his forehead on my small knuckles.

They sneak in there and put their hands on top of his as they shake their head 'no' to me before moving out of my sight.

"Don't hate me for only doing what's right for you, I only want to do what's best for you because I am your father, so give me one more chance to make things right". He pleads as I feel small droplets drip on my skin and I see him quietly crying.

I watch him in disbelief, listening to his words and seeing him cry in front of me, for me. He never did that before, not ever Ha! Not even once in any of my resets! this is different, everything about this is different.

'Somethings not right'

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Bruce was acting more and more strange these couple of days, He kept checking up on me, staying or lingering around me and where I went, and even smiled more often when he went out as Batman.

Not the typical Brucie shit smile but a genuine one, a simple soft looking one, and the scariest part it's always on his face when I'm anywhere near him.

'You can't stay here anymore' I hear their voice again in the back of my head but I barely see them anymore.

What's more weird is that the voice keeps getting quieter each time I hear them, the little drawings and the hallucinations start appearing less and less.

I don't know what's happening and I don't have any idea what to do, I lived through many lives before and nothing like this ever happened, What the fuck?

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Staring dumbfoundedly at him and then back at the wrapped present in his hand, I blinked in bewilderment at his words.

"W-what? A portrait? For what?". I asked him as he gently placed the box on my lap as I sat on the leathered couch located in the more private living room in the mansion, A family room I think?.

"An official portrait of just the two of us since the old one with your grandparents looks a little bit lonely by being on that wall alone," He says as he sits on the other cushy armchair next to me.

I follow where he is looking and see the large portrait of a younger him wearing the equivalent of a boy's suit and a big boyish smile on his face in the tapestry with him was his mother, Martha Wayne wearing a simple yet fashionable creamy white dress as she wears her iconic pearl necklace around her neck and lastly was a man behind them, Thomas Wayne who just like Bruce was wearing an expensive black suit and an award-winning smile even for a doctor.

The three look so much like how a happy family should be, all smiles and comfortable just being together and complete.

"As for your present, you can take a look now if you want," He said as he leaned over to look at my reaction I carefully opened the box but not before sending him a weird look.

"It's something for you to wear for the portrait next week" He stated before standing up and standing next to the end of the couch near me.

"I know I might be asking a lot but a portrait is one of the things that comes in tradition for this family" Kneeling down as he lays a hand on top of my head.

"Something that lasts longer, to remember the memories again and I want you to be a part of it, a memory we can always look back on, something nice and has a great sentimental value for us". He disclosed to me before leaning down and pecking the top of my head before ruffling it, walking away, and leaving the room afterward.

Looking down at the clothing on my lap I rub the fabric together and deduce that it's an expensive one based on the silky feel then back at the painting again and study the old portrait on top of the fireplace, the fire's light illuminating the brush strokes and their still faces.

"How funny, I never was in any of your portraits before, was I?" I whisper a smirk curling on my lips as make the decision in my head.

"Well then, maybe this won't be so bad". Grabbing my cane, I get off the couch and slowly walk till I'm standing directly under the painting in front of the fireplace.

"After all a family needs a father right?"

"I'll just have to make sure you become the perfect one first, my new family, my rules". I smile looking at the younger version of Bruce before walking out as well.

"You're not the only one good at manipulating, Bruce".

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Patting out any dust or wrinkle on my clothes I stare at my reflection on the new dresser in my new room that Bruce renovated near his -do I have to call him Father or maybe Dad now?.

Observing my appearance as Alfred was fixing or checking anything on my clothes, I noticed a sudden change in my look, I was the same as always between from before but healthier and less drained, upon inspecting closer I caught a brief glow of something green under the real color of my irises.

'Lazarus Green'. I hear their voice making me smile as I spy them in the mirror, they stand just behind the large bed curtain over my new bed peeking their head over then vanishing in the blink of my eye.

After that, Alfred handed over my cane and led me to a studio-like room a little bit further inside the mansion we entered and saw Bruce talking with someone who I guess might be the painter seeing a large canvas along with some paints and brushes beside them.

Smiling I headed towards Bruce as he introduced me to the painter who greeted me with a hello and a nice compliment in their French accent, I looked at Bruce with a raise of my brow as he just chuckled and smiled down at me.

"What? I wanted the best painter to make our family portrait". He remarked before sitting on a fancy armchair with a red cushion back and cushioned seating fixed on it.

He then pats a stool with a similar design and red cushion seat that perfectly partnered with his chair and helps me sit on it, an exception for me since I can't stand for too long, The painter then walks forward and fixes our poses as we talk.

"And there are many incredible painters here in Gotham as well-" I countered before hesitating and gripping my cane when the painter positioned in over my lap to hold.

"F-......Father, if you wanted to start making Gotham a better place, maybe you should look into the lives of the people as well, it's only fair after all" I convey what I meant then look into his reaction.

There he sat with his eyes widened in fascination and surprise before changing it with a large smile and reaching out to caress my cheek.

"Smart thinking kiddo". He then held my small hand in his as the painter asked for us to look at him to start with the painting.

A perfect Father looks out for his Family, Batman looks out for Gotham and this city is my first family, won't be too selfish of me to use you right, Father?

I'm just making sure everything is just right

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yeesh the plot is leaving my head but yes this is the end of Bruce and MC finally now we can head to the rest of the fam.

I don't like some yandere fics out there that straights up just let's MC be captured or under control of yandere's I want to have something different for a change, No hate to the other yandere writers out there y'all are amazing because I know yandere genre is all about that I just want a little twist in mine.

In the end, Y/N will be using what the fam did to them and use it against them to get what they want, Like I said I wanted Y/N to be mature, and calculative and use people to their advantage, their old and hopeful version is no longer with us.

Taglist are still open my peps.

[vanteguccir]

i can’t stop thinking about when matt has been gone for a while and ur too tight and he gets frustrated because he keeps slipping out 😣

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTOO TIGHT * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　Matt's cock keeps slipping out of Y/N after he was away for too long

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader

WARNINGS　::　SMUT (mdni)

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Matt had been gone for three long weeks, traveling with his brothers, and every day without him had felt like an eternity for Y/N. The moment he walked through the bedroom door, they barely managed to exchange a few words before they were all over each other, lips crashing together with full force.

Matt's hands roamed over Y/N's body, relearning every curve, every dip that he had missed so much. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could never get enough of him. They stumbled towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

By the time they reached it, Y/N was breathless, her body trembling with anticipation, and Matt's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at her, his chest heaving.

"Fuck sweetheart, missed you s'much." He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that mirrored her own.

Matt's hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, and teasing, eliciting soft moans from Y/N's lips. He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone, and to her tits, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking gently before giving the same attention to the other. Y/N arched her back, pressing herself against him, desperate for more.

When Matt finally positioned himself between her legs, Y/N was already wet and ready for him, her body aching with need. He took his time, teasing her folds with the head of his cock, spreading her arousal over himself.

"M-Matt- fuck, please! I need-" She whimpered, her hips bucking. But as he began to push inside her, he found it difficult. She was so tight, her body not having had him for so long that he could barely get his tip in.

"God, babe." He groaned, his voice rough with need. "You're so tight... I can't..." He tried again, pushing slowly, savoring the way her body enveloped him, but just as he felt his tip slip inside, it popped back out.

The sensation was maddening for both of them. The brief moment of penetration sent jolts of pleasure through Matt, making his breath hitch, and his grip on her thighs tighten. For Y/N, the feeling of being stretched, even momentarily, was electrifying. But each time he slipped out, it left them both on the edge, the pleasure cut short.

"Fucking hell, angel. How could you even become this tight? Never been like this since I fucked y'for the first time."

Matt's jaw clenched in frustration, widening her legs even more in an almost painful way. He adjusted his angle, trying to find a way to ease himself in without losing control.

He pressed forward again, feeling the delicious resistance as her tightness gave way, the head of his cock slipping just inside her entrance, a sigh of relief escaping his lips, but as he tried to push further, he slipped out again, the sudden loss of contact leaving him groaning in frustration.

Y/N could see the tension in his eyes, the way his muscles strained, a moan escaping her lips with the vision, moving her hips against nothing.

"Damn it-" Matt growled, his voice low and harsh. "So tight, can't even take me properly." He pushed in again, only to slip out, and Y/N whimpered at the loss. "Pathetic, huh, angel? Desperate for it, and yet your body can't handle it. Can't handle my cock."

Y/N's breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as she felt him tease her entrance again and again. The brief moments of penetration were enough to send sparks of pleasure through her, making her body tremble. But each time he slipped out, the pleasure was abruptly cut off, leaving her whimpering for more.

Matt's frustration reached its peak. The need to be inside her overwhelmed him. With a growl, he gripped her hips tightly - knowing for sure her skin would be bruised by morning - and thrust forward with force, burying himself inside her in one swift, deep stroke.

Y/N cried out, her body stretching to accommodate him. The initial pain of his forceful entry sent a shockwave through her, but it was quickly overtaken by a flood of intense pleasure. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back in her head as she struggled to breathe. The sensation of being so utterly filled, so completely taken, made her stomach flutter wildly.

"Fuck, angel." Matt groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Squeezing me so good- like y'were made for me."

"Oh, Matt-" She moaned, her voice trembling. "Shit- so good... so full..."

Matt's eyes locked onto hers, his own breath ragged.

"Y'okay?" He asked, his voice low and strained, a drop of concern despite his overwhelming need.

Y/N desperately nodded, her body still quivering.

"Yes... don't stop... please..."

"Never." He heaved, wetting his lips. "Never gonna let'y without my cock that long again, sweetheart."

© vanteguccir

[sierrale8ne]

okk so baby daddy paige fic when??😛

paige bueckers x fem!reader

nsfw // dom!paige, sub!reader, strap-on sex, deep penetration, cervix play, stomach bulge, praise, daddy kink, breeding kink, nasty filthy dirty talk, pure smut!

She was demolishing you. The way her strap plunged in and out of you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly had you weak. Your legs pushed open and head tossed back onto the bed as she bended you as she saw fit. Paige had you on your side, widening your legs to get an even better look at your soaking cunt.

"Every fuckin’ inch.” She grunted. Her chest pressed unbelievably close to yours you almost couldn’t breathe. She meant it when she said every inch because your cunt was full to the hilt. All eight inches of girth stuffed into you and ramming against your g-spot so roughly it probably was bruised.

There was no reason for Paige’s sudden aggressions, besides how badly she wanted to be close to you right now. The earliest hours of the morning, made her want to be in your skin. Or so deep inside you rather.

“Feel me, ma? Deep as hell in that pussy." She cooed, thinking about all the other positions she could fold you into before morning came and she had to catch her flight. “Such a good girl. Taking my cock like the good girl you are.”

You cried in response, clawing at her hand that gripped the back of your knee, “uh huh!” You mindlessly babbled, eyes rolling until the whites of your eyes were all that she could see. “Uh! Fuck, daddy don’t stop. Don’t— don’t fuckin’ stop.”

She turned your body so you lay on your back, her hands still clawing at your legs which she pushed back until your knees nearly touched your ears. She was breaking you apart into nothing. The movement of her hips constant and in rhythm, you swore she was touching the depths of your chest each time she thrusted into you. Her cock unbelievably deep.

“She fuckin’ loves me, huh?” Paige teased, looking at how you swallowed up every inch so greedily. “Squeezing my dick so tight, you love this shit. Right, baby?”

“Aw yeah, P. Love it like that, fuck me like that.” You moaned, jaw dropping slack as you clawed for anything to keep you grounded.

Paige angled her hips ever so slightly, just enough to push her cock up against your cervix. Gently at first, but when she heard the mewl that escaped your mouth and the way your body convulsed it became rougher. You trembled as she kept thrusting into you, the vibrator nestled against her clit pushed up against your mound so heavy.

You reached for her hand to grab and place on your abdomen, the bulge that formed there. “S’deep, daddy. It’s in my fuckin’ stomach.” You whimpered, tears blurring your vision.

“Finna put a baby in you.” She muttered. Her voice was shaky, but even then her rhythm didn’t falter. Her eyes watched you like you were a piece of art, and you were; for her eyes only. “Fill you up with my cum so good, yeah? You gonna have my kids, ma?”

“Yes. I’ll have ‘em, P.” Your mind was trying to focus of the words leaving your mouth but the way she was fucking you so rough clouded your brain.

Sweat ran past Paige’s collarbone, dripping onto your skin. Her silver cross chain dangled in your face and the cool metal against your skin every few seconds offered brief relief to the heat you felt everywhere else. Paige’s hips were pushed up against your own, your juices smearing on her insanely muscular thighs. You were drenching her, a sinful painting of the clear and milky white fluid made her groan loudly.

“Gonna fill you up ‘til that shit is dripping outta you.” Her words were so filthy, and the sudden pressure she placed at your abdomen— right where her strap reached— was a recipe for a dirty disaster. “You want that? Wanna be my baby mama? Carry my kid?”

“I-fuck, fuck! Paige!” You squealed. “I want your kids. I want you.”

“Cum for me then. Lemme see that pretty fuckin’ cunt cum, baby. Can you do that for me?” She questioned you. Her hands moved back to your hips, slightly angling them upwards to kiss your cervix beautifully. “Gonna cream my cock, huh?”

And just like that you were. Your cum covering the strap and loud cries of the blonde’s name escaped your mouth. Your toes curled and your legs trembled as she fucked you through it, softly rubbing your hip with her thumb as the rough exertions came to a halt.

Only briefly, however. Because it only took her a few more seconds to put you on all fours, her obvious strength dominating you and positioning you exactly how she pleased. She treated you like a princess but right now? She treated you like a toy, man handling you and forcing your body into a picture perfect arch.

“Pretty girl can take it from the back, right? Make daddy proud?”

And you nodded, so desperate to feel her inside you again. She plowed into you for hours, leaving you weak and sore and fulfilled for an eternity. Or at least until she was back from her road trip.

author’s note my baby daddy paige 🙂‍↕️ @arlertwhore i hope i did you justice ml, BC THIS SHIT IS HOTTTT.

[dollarbils]

on top of me | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. early on into your relationship, billie voices an idea that’s been consuming your mind for weeks.

warnings. smut, grinding, kissing, praising

request masterlist

billie dominated your mind through her presence. she caused your every shaky breath and scattered thought. she was infectious in a way that made you feel like you were floating whenever her fingers drew your last vestiges of warmth. and she had no idea. it was infuriating; the visions of your entangled bodies colliding in ways you could only dream, never voice.

she however, couldn’t get enough of you either. keeping her sinful mind silent when she caressed your skin. yearning for more, unaware that you too, craved the fire she tried desperately to keep out.

your minds were a mess, both of you. these prospects littering each other’s subconscious while you lips felt like they were crashing together in passion. tingling the skin of your face and the inside of your stomach. giddy, was how you’d describe it.

“billie.” you gasped on her lips, breathing in each other’s pants as your lips touched but were still. mouths open catching your breath. she was on top of you. her eyes lost in the curves of your body. she leaning in again, her tongue harsher and desperate. her hands around your neck as she pulled you closer. her hips were squirming, jeans causing friction against yours. your deep moans we’re muffled by her penetrating mouth.

“fuck, you’d look so good on top of me babe.” she whined into your mouth. images of you straddling her invading your mind. she was quick to take your jeans off before guiding your hips onto her lap.

"Is this alright?" she whispered, uncertain in the sudden shift. You nodded, too focused on the slow unraveling of her clothes. She let out a soft moan as your hips met hers, your lips finding their way back to her own. Her kiss deepened, mirroring the rhythm of your body. Her hands traced your waist, exploring the space between you, as if learning the language of your skin.

“bils.” the whisper was faint, a plea for more. or for guidance on what she wanted from you.

“hm?” she was so lost in the sweet flavour of your lips she barely heard you call her name. your mind grew hazy as she hung onto the string of moans leaving you every-time she’d move her hips slightly.

“i..i need more.” she gazed up at you, catching her breath once again as she bit her lip. the sight of your swollen ones, and pleading eyes almost too much for her.

“then take more.” her hands squeezed your hips, signalling what she meant as she gestured with a tilt of her chin for you to bring your lips back to hers. her arms embraced you when you did. pulling you impossibly close as she waited for you to take your own pleasure. the slow movement of your hips onto hers hers caused her to break away from the kiss, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. your grinding against her exposed heat fluttering to her core, pleasure consuming her. you kissed her neck, when you could, your cries matching hers at your slow pace.

she opened her eyes, biting the skin of her lip harshly, preventing further noises from escaping. she watched as you arched into her, moaning when she’d buck her hips. she went feral at the sight, devouring your ass with her firm grip as your movements became more desperate.

“harder, angel.” she spoke and you complied immediately. you gripped her shoulders for more support as her hands aided your movements. her head fell back, moans flying out of her as you whimpered at the feeling of your breasts against hers.

“fuck, baby.” her voice was strained, hoarse from her moans. but she pulled your chin towards her, kissing you. it was sloppy, but you drowned in it. when the knot in your stomach burst and you came, she guzzled your cries, swallowing them whole as she muffled her own; occasionally breaking apart, unable to keep her lips attached when she released.

“oh my god.” you huffed when you fell onto her, breathing heavily. you were both so fucked out, unable to move from this position, and your pussys too sensitive to handle much movement.

“babe, you should get on top of me more often.” her voice was groggy in the shared exhaustion. but you mumbled in agreement.

[fangswbenefits]

Fever

Summary: You're running a fever and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Vampire bite and blood sucking. Precum and cum. Skin to skin contact with the purpose of thermoregulation that ends up getting out of hand. Inappropriate use of tadpole. Banter.

Word count: 3k

A mind-numbing chilling shiver tore throughout your entire body, causing your muscles to contract involuntarily in a desperate attempt to keep yourself warm.

The bonfire crackled vigorously, emanating a welcome wave of heat, as you embraced the blanket around you, keeping both knees tightly close to your chest.

"You can't possibly be cold."

Astarion.

Great.

You lowered your quivering chin to rest on your forearm, definitely not in the mood - or mental capacity - to voice out a proper reply.

"It's blazing hot tonight," he continued, entering your narrowed field of vision. "Hello? I'm talking to you."

Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter.

He scoffed. "What is the matter with you? Oh, do not tell me you're turning into a mindflayer… what a nuisance."

Astarion and his eternal aptitude for inconvenient remarks.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come. "I think I'm running a fever."

Astarion lowered himself to eye-level with you, his body close enough for you to make out the swirling flames of the bonfire dancing in his crimson eyes.

"So what? Drink a healing potion."

You inwardly cussed, pressing your forehead firmly against your arm with an exasperated sigh, effectively hiding from his burning gaze.

Clearly, your silence paired with the deflecting physical reaction was enough for him to draw a conclusion.

"You don't have any."

Silence.

"What have you done with our potions?" His voice immediately shifted into an accusatory hiss.

Another shiver. 

This time, you mustered the strength to look him in the eye. "Some passers-by were injured by thieves and asked for help… so… I…" your voice faltered as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight.

He was already pinching the bridge of his nose, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "So you gave them all of our potions?!"

You shrugged with a faint smile and Astarion went ballistic.

"Why must you carry this deathwish around? And why must you drag me along with you?" He growled dramatically. "Why didn’t you just ignore them? Or – I don't know – not give them anything?"

You matched his frown. "They were severely injured. They would have perished from their wounds."

He threw both arms up in exasperation as he raised to his feet at once.

"Well, better them than me – or you, for that matter," he added, both hands on his hips. "You're far too precious to be killed, darling."

How could you forget?

And he was right… to an extent.

You chose silence.

It was a very effective way to handle Astarion whenever he went on a rambling spree.

"When is Shadowheart returning with Gale?"

"Soon. I hope."

He groaned in response. "You're actually fortunate I'm so resourceful."

Your head turned to him and you watched as he strolled away, disappearing into his tent. 

A jab of realisation hit you all of a sudden, as you vaguely recalled rummaging through his belongings earlier on when he left to hunt an animal to feed on.

Fuck.

You winced.

"Where are my healing potions?"

Your eyes dropped close and your teeth clattered.

Angry footsteps drew near at lightning speed. "You stole from me?!"

You shrugged. "You steal from everyone."

He then crouched down again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I steal for us –  the collective good!"

You did scoff this time. "Then why were you hiding them away?"

"Call it safekeeping. Although I was careless enough to teach you lockpicking, wasn't I?”

A firm hand came to grip your forearm, but you flinched away. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”

He glared at you in silence as if your reply had snapped him out of his tantrum.

There was no point in arguing with him, as he was known to have low tolerance for unexpected predicaments.

But even through your feverish haze, you could see he was no longer pursuing an argument.

After all, his bond to you was built on meeting halfway, even when disagreements occurred.

“On your feet, darling,” he said, extending his hand to you as rose to his full height.

You grabbed it and pushed yourself upwars, nearly losing your footing. Luckily, Astarion was agile enough for both of you, and he quickly steadied you with both hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

“There you go,” he said almost lovingly. “Let's take care of that.”

You nodded tiredly as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you into his tent.

“Sorry for the potions.”

He chuckled lightly. “I guess it can't be helped with that bleeding heart of yours.”

You didn’t even try refuting his remark. He was absolutely right. But still, you didn't regret having helped those people. 

And now you were stuck in this predicament until Shadowheart returned.

It could be worse… at least you weren't alone.

The shivers were only getting more intense and you watched as Astarion suddenly pulled his shirt off in one swift move.

Instantly, your jaw dropped. “What – Astarion?”

He eyed you with sheet amusement. “Darling, I swear this is not what it looks like.”

Frankly, you weren't even sure if this wasn't just your mind playing tricks on you.

Why would he even remove his shirt in the first place?

“Considering our current situation, this is the best course of action. Skin-to-skin. I'm cold enough to drop your temperature.”

Your eyes widened.

Oh?

He tossed the shirt to the side and moved to stand closer to you. “Let me help you out of your clothes.”

Under different circumstances, this would have been a welcome exchange, but this particular scenario didn't make room for any of those thoughts.

So, you merely stood still as he tugged at your own shirt, undoing each button, hands traveling down your torso.

A wave of coldness took over as your skin met the uncomfortable night breeze. 

“It's too cold… Astarion…” you said in between clattering teeth.

He shoved the fabric off your shoulders and down your arms, eyes always holding yours. 

You felt your nipples harden, but none of that seemed to matter. He had seen you naked many times and you felt comfortable around him.

But you also felt ill. 

And no amount of loving stares could ease the way your body spasmed uncontrollably near his. 

“You're burning up,” he said, as he pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead.

His touch brought immediate relief and you leaned into it, earning a soft caress as his hand trailed down.

As if disconnected from your mind, your body moved on its own accord, closing the gap that separated you from Astarion, and you gasped as his chest came into contact with yours.

The difference in temperature was so stark, that even Astarion flinched momentarily before his arms closed around you.

A gentle tug inside your head made you wince.

The tadpole.

It was trying to connect with his.

It often happened in moments of intimacy when both of you allowed that door to open.

But now was not the time or moment, and you forced yourself to repress it.

Your chin met his shoulder and you eased into him until you could feel the shivers begin to subside.

You weren't sure how long it took for your body's temperature to drop, but what you did know was that you could tear yourself away from him.

Astarion's cool skin came as the relief you were seeking, and you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath as you clung onto him.

“I've got you.”

His voice was low and tender and your racing heart skipped a bit.

Even standing, you felt as though you could drift off into a slumber at any moment.

More time passed.

More silence.

More comfort.

And the worm squirmed again.

You promptly ignored it.

Astarion shifted against you and you sighed blissfully, resting your cheek on his shoulder, eyelids dropping.

Another tug and you frowned.

What was happening?

The tadpole rattled almost violently and you allowed yourself to let go.

As soon as you felt it reach Astarion's, you gasped and your eyes flew open.

You could faintly feel pulsating waves of pleasure through the tadpole.

His mind laced with yours and that was when you felt a growing pressure in your lower half.

Not now. Not now. Gods.

His voice echoed inside your head in a never-ending plea.

He sounded desperate.

And he felt… hard.

Positively aroused.

Think of Withers. Think of Volo and his abysmal outfits.

That wasn’t exactly the mental images you would have preferred in this moment, but it was quite clear that he sought a distraction.

You shuddered into him and he let out a low groan in response.

Was he aware that you could hear his thoughts? Did he even care?

Your tadpole vibrated evenly and his yearn for friction became yours.

Astarion… what are you doing?

He jolted under your touch, but didn't utter a single word out loud.

Instead, he focused on caressing your naked back with gentle fingers.

You're inside my head when I crave to be inside you.

His bluntness was enough to cause your body to react.

The fever had been broken, but the heat refused to leave.

Maybe we should pull away.

He let out a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

You're still quite warm, darling.

Your tadpole held on to his viciously, and it was quite evident that the connection wasn't going to be easily severed.

Not when you could now feel how hard his cock was for you.

Inside your mind.

It was as if you were experiencing everything happening in his body.

The gentle throbbing in his lower half was now your own, too.

You can feel it, can't you?

He was almost purring through his tadpole and you tried to find words, but his hard cock was too distracting.

You had often wondered how an erection would feel like for a man.

Now you had your answer.

And it felt almost… urgent.

I never felt this before…

His cock twitched and you felt all of it.

I suppose we never allowed it ourselves, darling.

Your hands locked behind his back, but you struggled to keep your fingers from slipping as sweat gathered along your skin.

As expected, the stimulus was enough to stir your clit, earning another chuckle from him.

Oh, I can feel it swelling up…

You clenched.

It didn't take long for wetness to pool in your underwear.

The two of you were still very much covered from the waist down.

It was almost painful how restricted his cock was against the fabric of his trousers.

Now you know how it feels when you get me hard.

Instinctively, you began to grind against him, seeking that delicious friction that only he could provide.

Or maybe we should save this for a more suitable moment.

His suggestion caused you to bite your lip to muffle a groan of disapproval.

We can just stay like this… for a while.

He hardened even more and you were beginning to feel conflicted on what to focus on: his cock or your clit.

You can focus on both, sweetheart. 

You clenched again.

His hands dropped to your waist and he pulled your hips harder against his.

Gods… this hurts… 

It truly hurt to feel his cock restrained like that, leaking precum as he kept a steady pace.

You could feel how soaked he was getting.

Does your clit always feel this good grinding against me?

Your arms looped around his neck for support, because you didn't think you had it in you to withstand the unexpected duplication of pleasure. 

How are you getting harder?

This time, he groaned in response, angling his hips so you could also physically feel how hard his cock was.

Another clench was all it took for him to move his lips to your neck, fangs grazing your skin.

Would you clench harder if I bit you?

You shuddered, bucking your hips as if they were Astarion's. Now you knew how it felt whenever he began to grind against you.

Astarion… you get harder when you bite me, don't you?

He growled before his lips latched on to you, suckling gently.

Do you want to feel my cock getting harder from your blood?

Maybe you should postpone this endeavour. Even if the fever was no longer an issue, maybe it was better to wait out whatever had caused it.

But he was also waiting on you, his fangs eager to break skin and sink into you.

Logic was replaced with arousal and you nodded.

Please…

Astarion didn't need to be told twice, and you let out a pained yelp, as he tore through the barrier and found his target.

With the first gulp of his blood, you felt your mouth drop open, and not because of pain or discomfort.

No.

You could feel your blood coursing through his body, rapidly shooting downwards and filling his cock with each passing second.

The pleasure was nigh unbearable and you kept on grinding against him, desperate for the friction.

He lifted one of your legs to grant him better access and as soon as he found a sweet spot, he began thrusting as if there were no clothes in the way.

You kept clenching around nothing, squeezing out more of your wetness whilst being able to feel just how drenched he was for you.

With each roll of his hips, you felt more and more precum leaking.

The upside to having this tadpole connection was that you got to hear his voice even when his mouth was busy.

Your walls began to squeeze, yearning for his cock.

Darling, you feel so tight.

His cock was gradually getting warmer from your blood and his balls were getting tighter.

He was close.

He was inside your head and he was dangerously close.

I can feel your clit. You're close, too.

You expected to feel lightheaded from him feeding on you, but it was as if his vigour was now yours.

Your body refused to wither as you remained linked to his.

Dampness was seeping through your crotch as he humped more eagerly than ever.

The temptation to just undo his trousers and let him sink inside you was 

I need to be inside you.

It wasn’t a request.

He was begging.

But your ears caught the distant sound of voices nearing the tent.

Astarion. Someone is coming….

He growled, pulling away from your neck and capturing your lips with his blood-stained ones.

You tasted metal on your tongue.

I'm close… 

And so were you.

It was probably a mixture of the thrill of getting caught and how delicious his thick cock felt from being pumped up with your blood.

It was overwhelming.

Your mind was not even focusing on your swollen clit.

You just wanted his cock to find release.

And it was a shared sentiment, because Astarion kept on praising how drenched you were for him and how much you were throbbing.

He could feel your clit the same way you could feel his cock.

It was as if the two of you had swapped places and were both desperate to reach the climatic release.

The voices were getting closer and your grip tightened around his neck, his tongue tracing your lower lip before he began suckling in it.

It was an effective way to muffle his moans.

Clench again… 

Your body obeyed his words and you clenched in frustration, wishing you could drive his cock inside you and empty his balls.

By this point, you were able to make out Shadowheart’s voice.

Quick…

He kept on grinding and you felt his balls tighten even more as he neared the edge of the precipice, his cock twitching and throbbing as he toppled over.

“Gods!” you almost yelled.

Astarion grunted in between gasps.

Shock and unfathomable pleasure entwined as you felt the first strings of cum shoot from his cock, pooling around it as it remained enclosed in his soaked underwear.

His pleasure was your own.

Literally.

Your mind blanked and your hips moved on their own as if you were the one thrusting his cock, mouth agape and heart almost leaping from your chest in sheer bewilderment.

You're almost there…

His words rang inside your head but he now knew better than yourself how close you were and you simply let go as his warm cum began seeping through his trousers.

So much cum… 

Another voice was heard nearby and it catapulted you into your own bodily climax.

And this time, Astarion groaned harder than before as he felt your rhythmic contractions flutter throughout your walls. 

“Gods… this–”

Astarion was stunned into silence, having to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud as your orgasm tore across his own body.

You felt the contractions.

You felt your clit pulsating in unison with your heartbeat.

But your pleasure was his.

You pressed a hand on the back of his neck, cradling him as he rode out your climax.

Your tadpole squirmed tiredly and you figured you had overstayed your welcome with this sudden and intense connection.

Just as quickly as it had occurred, the link was severed at once and there was a sudden quiet in your head.

Astarion slumped slightly against you, dropping your leg and face buried in the crook of your neck.

“That was…”

Your uneven breathing held you back for a moment. “... amazing?”

He pulled away and your vision cleared with a few blinks only to see your blood smeared across his lips and chin.

“Unexpected, I reckon.”

From outside his tent, you heard someone clear their throat.

“Why am I not surprised that they're in their tent again?”

“Ah, Shadowheart. Young love tends to be lively and intense.” Gale tried to reason.

A pause.

“Well, they could try to be quieter about it, then.” 

You glanced down to find the front of his trousers, realising just how much of his cum had spilled from the waistband.

“Are you still feeling feverish?” he asked, capturing your chin in between his fingers to tilt your head up, so that your eyes could meet his.

You shook your head.

“Are you still upset about the potions?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am upset that it took us this long to take full advantage of these blasted worms.”

Masterlist

[spicybunni]

GENTLE (Xenomorph x reader)

A/N : It makes me happy a lot people matched my freak with my alien fanart!! i wrote a little Romulus drabble if Y/N was the one who was caught instead of Rain. I hope you enjoy!

⚠️ WARNINGS: ALIEN ROMULUS SPOILERS / SFW / VIOLENCE / FALLING / ALIEN

You were so close. Rain's finger were nearly within reach, the zero gravity almost putting you in the perfect position. Andy was holding onto her with one hand while the other gripped the ladder. You didn't want to think about how many floors up you were, just focusing on your hand reaching as far as you could to your remaining friends.

"Come on Y/N, almost there...reach!!" She pleaded with you, as if you could control the situation any better than she could.

But alas, the sudden alarm of gravity came back to you. You could see Rain's eyes widen in horror as your fingers finally brush hers, only to descend downwards with the rest of your body. Andy grips her shirt tighter as she falls against him, using his strength to hold himself and Rain against wall ladder.

"Y/N!!!" She screams as she watches you fall. The balance of having no gravity to having all the pressures of falling to your death make you scream down the elevator shaft. Of course it was all happening too quickly, but you know at this point you should accept death. At least Rain and Andy would make it. At least someone was going to make it to the sanctuary planet away from Jackson's dangerous mines. You watch as the floor levels pass you by, making you dizzy with thoughts of impact on the final floor.

Unfortunately, you would meet no quick fate.

A sudden blur of black passes your vision, the creature, holding onto the walls. Lacking any breath to gasp or scream at the sight, the remaining is knocked out of you as a slithering tail curves around your back, breaking you fall, and wrapping around your torso. It's sharp end makes a careful move to wrap around and not poke you. The ridges of it's tail feel uncomfortable against your back and stomach, making you arch as it holds you mid air.

You peer up to see the xenomorph looking down at you, as if to see that you're alright. You let out a whimper as it hisses at you. And before you could process anything else, it lifts you. Without any effort it brings you to the opposite side of the wall, gently settling you near an emergency ladder. You grab hold, but it's tail tightens around you, keeping you in place as it adjusts itself to come to you. Quick breaths are all you can produce, knowing it can't speak your language, knowing it just wants to kill you or use your body for some sick incubation. You start to cry and it's head leans down, almost as a horse would. It lets out a few hisses as it regards you. A spider like hand reaches for you, grabbing your jaw as gentle as it could for a space alien. Turning your head from side to side. Your form was shaking uncontrollably, helpless at the creatures mercy and too scared to do anything in fear of angering it.

The xenomorph was more than pissed at this point. It's hosts it's produced so far have not been suitable for the parasites to incubate offspring into. It's failed too many times to let even one of the remaining healthy hosts to just fall to their death. It would have impaled you with it's tail. But it needed you unbroken, alive. The creature inspected you for any injuries it might've caused or that you had done to yourself. Again, it needs you to be healthy. It was going to reserve you for a queen parasite. That way this pack had a hive leader, a queen Xenomorph.

It's tail drops from your waist as it's hands reach out you, grabbing and lifting you over it's shoulder. You passed out from sheer terror and exhaustion. It seemed pleased that your body went limp, you were making it all the more easier to take you to the hive....

[myjjongie]

☾ BITE ME ── p. jongseong

IN WHICH: the vampire that always crashes at your place saves you from danger. going back to your place, you both finally have a well deserved heart to heart moment.

PAIRING: vampire!jay x human!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, fluff, skinship, kissing, they make out frfr, biting (fangs), slight sexual harassment, mentions of blood once again WORD COUNT: 2.4k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: another morning another early ass post. per everyone's wish i have made part 2. won't say much on it cause i don't wanna spoil things. but i hope i delivered part 2 well. but yes hope you guys like it. btw vampire jay ily PART I

your arms wrapped around your body. hands underneath your arms hoping to keep them warm. the air in the night was cold yet crisp, as you made your way home from work.

you made a turn into the shortcut you first met jay at all those nights ago. once again it was weeks since you last saw him. you instinctively frowned at the thought of him. jay made it seem like he’d be back within the week.

yet here you were again waiting around for him. promising yourself the next time you saw him you’d give him a piece of your mind. that is if he isn’t covered in wounds like every other time he stops by your place…

a deep sigh left your chest, your warm breath turning into a ghostly mist. continuing your trek home the sudden sound of approaching footsteps stopped you for a moment.

usually the shortcut to your apartment was rarely used. only known to those who lived in your building. despite that it was one am at night, no one would be walking home at this hour. your pace quickened wanting to get out of the alley way as soon as possible.

as your pace quickened so did the footsteps behind you, even if they sounded uneven with your own. each beat felt like it echoed louder than the last. a frantic rhythm matching the pounding in your chest.

almost making it to the end of the alley, your body was forcefully pulled back. body turned around to be met with the pungent smell of alcohol.

“what’s a pretty lady like you doing here so late at night?”

the minute the man’s breath hit your nose, bile formed in your throat. you yanked at your wrist in hopes of getting out of his grasp. to your demise even in his drunken state the man’s grip was strong.

swallowing back the urge to vomit you spoke through clenched teeth. “let go of me…”

the man laughed giving you a drunken smile. a chill running down your spine. your life flashing before your eyes in that second. panic soon set in. your mind hurriedly figuring out how to escape from him.

“come on. don’t be stubborn. let’s have a good time together.” his words came out in a slur as his body began to sway.

“go to hell.”

the man’s joyful expression soon twisted to anger. his brows knitted into annoyance. taking note in the change of attitude your body went into flight or fight mode. adrenaline pumped through your veins as you strongly kicked the man in his shin.

you had hoped to kick him with the intent of aiming in the area where it would hurt must. but ultimately fell short.

the man let out a ragged breath, soon cursing out in pain. his grip on you loosened. perfect timing to run away. you turned on your heels and bolted. but only after a few strides, did your legs buckle. sending you to the ground. as you fell to the ground, your palms steadied your fall. turning your head to check on the man you eyed his movements.

noticing him let go of his aching shin. fear dawned on you as he got ready to chase you down. ignoring the stinging of your palms you forced yourself back up. you began to run again. despite the sharpness of the cold air slicing at your skin. you ran, pushing past the stinging in your legs and hands.

tears began to burn into your eyes. the echoing of the drunken man’s yelling frightened you. your vision began to blur from the tears. as you aimlessly blinked and wiped them away, your body collided into someone. your already frantic thoughts worsened. fearing that the man wasn’t alone this whole time.

the new stranger wrapped an arm around your body. his firm grasp was tight as you began to punch at his chest. unable to see who was the drunken man’s accomplice. you began to fight your way out of his grasp.

“yn it’s okay it’s me.”

your ears perked at the all too familiar voice. soon your hands that were hitting at his chest stopped. the firm hold that felt threatening was replaced with familiarity. it was jay.

“jay…” your voice came out weak as you looked up at him. cheeks drenched with your tears as more still fell from your eyes.

you looked into his eyes a habit you formed over the year. the usual burgundy color shifted into a deep crimson. a hue so intense it glowed under the moonlit alley.

“you know i don’t like it when you cry..” his tone was gentle. a soothing hush to calm the constant pounding in your chest.

his lips gently pressed against your forehead. a reassurance to show you were safe. safe with him. “get behind me okay?” obliging to his words you hurried behind him.

your shaky hands tightly held onto the bottom hem of his leather jacket.

“leave..” instead of the gentle tone jay had with you, it was now demandingly cold. jay’s red eyes shined as his voice deepened with the intention of hurting the man if he refused to listen.

you faintly heard frantic breathing. then the drunken man’s voice loudly breaking through the deafening silence. “what are you?!”

instead of the sound of confrontation, the sound of hurried steps instead echoed out into the distance.

“he’s gone.” jay’s once cold voice altered the second he spoke to you.

you eerily peeked from behind jay’s arm, eyeing out if the man was really gone or not. seeing the now empty alley way your panic faded. you gripped the jacket tighter as you softly spoke.

“thank you. if you weren’t here i. i don’t know what would’ve happened.” tears began to brim your eyes once again. jay turned around to look at you. mostly needing to make sure that thing didn’t harm you. he couldn’t help but lift his hand to wipe away the faint tears.

a satisfied sigh left his chest seeing you unscathed. your head raised to look up at him, head tilting at his sigh. when looking at him you noticed his eyes were back to the burgundy color you loved.

remembering the promise of scolding him your brows furrowed ready to scold the vampire. yet before even doing so jay’s breathing staggered. his focus wavered as his senses picked up on something in particular.

“are you okay?! were you hurt before you got here?” your tone immediately shifted to worry. jay’s body soon swayed. causing you to help steady him.

“no. i’m not hurt. there’s a smell that’s. it’s so sweet.” his voice came off ragged as his breathing increased. his desperate breathing reminded you that of a fever. raising your hand to his forehead, it felt hot to the touch. that’s when you noticed it. your palms faintly covered in red. the sweet smell jay was talking about was from you. it was your blood.

“shit.” you couldn’t help but curse under your breath. the only thing you could do now was drag jay home.

finally stumbling through the entrance of your apartment, you rested against the door. a sense of deja vu washing over as you caught your breath. you steadied jay against the wall, preparing to take both your shoes off. before even trying to do so, you were caged against the door. the sudden action catching you off guard.

you looked up at jay. his eyes casted a dark tone to them. his desire once again piling up. every inch of him felt like it was burning with that desire. but he needed to control himself. yet that same control was slipping through his fingers.

“yn..” jay spoke in a husked whisper. almost as if. no. he was yearning for you. how could he force himself to pull away. especially when you were right there. so close to him. his forehead pressed against yours, half lidded eyes studying your features. he needed you.

eyeing the mole he noticed weeks ago. his eyes scanned for face. he had to know if you’d be okay with this. okay with him, his desires, the carnal need to sink his fangs into you. yet there you were standing before him. not a single doubt written on your face.

jay’s hands left the side of your body to hold your face. you melted into his touch. everything with him always felt just right. his thumbs caressed your cheeks gently.

“i… i’ve wanted this for so long…” he murmured. soon his lips gently met with yours. the soft press of his lips sent a shiver down your spine. the sensation was cold yet held a touch of warmth to it.

jay’s hands that cupped your face now found its way at your waist. one arm holding you tightly to his body while the other was planted on the door. as the seconds went by jay’s kissing became more earnest, more heated. his tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip. a silent invitation to deepen the soon intimate kiss.

your breath hitched as your lips parted for him. the kiss deepening as your tongues met together. heat soon rose between your bodies. jay’s hold only pulled you closer to him. the space of distance feeling unbearable. his kissing soon turned sloppy leaving a quiet moan to slip between your lips. to then be swallowed by another kiss.

the kiss between you two was truly more than heat. it was a years worth of silent yearning. mixed with the ache of jay’s fear spilling into this moment. you could feel the entirety of his need. the way his body clung desperately to yours. fearing as though you’d slip away from his grasp now that he had you.

jay finally parted from the kiss. he watched as you gasped softly for air, all while he steadied his own breathing. your fingers burned as you held onto his shirt for support. small jolts of a tingling sensation shooting through your body. jay couldn’t help but eye at how swollen your lips looked in this moment.

he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy this more than he anticipated he would’ve. once more jay leaned back down to kiss you again. but instead of doing so deeply. he began to lay kisses along your cheeks. to your jawline. then to your neck.

once meeting your neck his movements stopped. his head rested on your shoulder as he eyed the side of your face. noticing the absence of his affection you looked over at him. your gentle eyes meeting his regretful ones.

“are you sure…” he sounded hesitant. worried that you weren’t one hundred percent about your decision. “you’re like a moon to me yn. always there for me even when everything else feels dark. you alone bring light to me when i need it most. i don’t wanna lose you to this. this desire of a vampire…”

“you won’t lose me jay. i don’t care about the danger, or the hunger, or the difference in our worlds. i care about you. i love you.” your hand reached up to his cheek. a gentle finger caressing his face in reassurance.

“god. i’ve loved you since that first night.” his voice breathless as he continued to speak. “i’ve always found myself coming back you, all those nights since then.” jay’s hand took yours bringing your palm to his lips. soon kissing and licking away the blood that stained your hand. the sensation was ticklish causing a gentle laugh to come out.

now as both your hands were intertwined jay resumed his original actions. not only did he leave pecks of kisses along the nape of your neck, but faint nibbles. occasionally sucking at your skin leaving a visible mark.

the more he spent his time in the crook of your neck. the more his fangs started to protrude out. once happy with the litter of love bites all over your neck he raised his head.

“i’m gonna bite you now okay?” his eyes still held doubt. understanding if you wanted to back out now before it was too late.

once he has a taste of your blood he would never wanna live without it. that was the curse of his desire he had to live. even if it meant for the rest of his life. a desire he prayed will never hurt you.

“it’s okay, jay. bite me…” your voice was a hushed whisper as you tilted your head more to the side. opening up the crook of your neck more for him.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you braced for the pain. soon there it was. a burning sensation pulsing through out your neck. a whimper left you lips as his fangs sank deeper into your skin. you could feel jay hesitate, ready to stop. your fingers tangled into his hair, easing his worries. signaling it was okay.

finally jay’s fangs settled into your neck. the taste of your blood made his body tremble. the taste was unlike anything he had before. it was sweet yet bitter. something that would forever be distinct to you.

your body began to weaken as he sucked up your blood. noticing the way your legs gave in jay knew it was enough. un sinking from your neck he raised his head. jay couldn’t help but admire the new symmetrical dots that stood out on your neck. a mark that showed you were his.

jay took notice of your groggily demeanor. taking it upon himself, he scooped you into his arms.

now settled into the bed you couldn’t help but sleepily play with his fingers as he patched up your lightly torn palms. once satisfied with his work he got into the bed getting comfy next to you.

“you’re not gonna disappear for weeks on end anymore right?” you stared up at him with heavy eyelids. sleep slowly yet steadily lulling you in.

“of course not. i’ll be here right by your side always.” jay leaned down to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. as he stroked your hair gently.

“good. that means you need a phone so i can get in contact with you whenever—” before you could pester on, you dozed off. your breathing gentle and rhythmic. jay couldn’t help but tuck a hair behind your ear. eyeing your sleeping face as he smiled down at you.

“yes yes. anything for you my lune. sleep well.” his words were hushed as he pulled you closer to him. exhaustion soon weighing down on him as well.

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