#he is intense and passionate ... but can get to be so tender too

[svtswhorehouse]

SAFETY FIRST

pairings: bad boy!soonyoung x good girl!reader genre: mdni, smut, au warnings: hoshi teaches reader the importance of a safe word, mentions of weed, inexperienced reader, experienced hoshi, reader gets head for the first time, reader is a people pleaser, pussy eating, praise if you squint, MULTIPLE orgasms (seven to be exact), crying from pleasure, overstimulation, squirting word count: 6.5k synopsis: soonyoung considers himself to be an expertise at many things — pussy eating, is one of them.

sidenote: reader is close childhood friends with ALL of seventeen. i will be writing other members with this particular oc as well. so much lore!! this is a series :) feel free to drop into my inbox and ask questions !! hoshi is in fact my bias so i did get carried away with this one. between this installment and the last one, i’ve taken two eight week literature courses so hopefully my writing has improved. my brain is working overtime right now, i just finished an essay for a class in a few hours and grinded to get this out for you guys !!

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“Do you know what a safe word is?” Soonyoung’s voice cuts through the air, taking you by surprise. 

You whip your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed. “A safe word?” 

“Mhm,” He hums, briefly glancing up. He sits on a desk chair, facing you as he rolls a blunt to perfection. His tongue darts out to slowly lick the paper and your thighs unconsciously press together at the sight. 

“What’s that?”

Soonyoung sighs, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he sets the rolling tray aside. He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, taking his time to examine you. “Do you want to find out?” He asks, voice dangerously low. 

You can feel the air shift, his tone making your skin prickle. You tilt your head to the side, lips forming into a pout from confusion. “Okay,” You agree with a shrug.

Soonyoung’s lips quirk slightly. He nods his head slowly, scanning you from head to toe. Your cotton shorts rode up way too high, especially with your position on the bed, and your thin white tank top didn’t do much to hide your nipples through the fabric.

You’d opted out of wearing a bra today and needless to say — oblivious to you — all the boys had noticed.

His eyes settle back on yours and you fidget under his gaze. It was strong and intense, almost as if he was practically undressing you. 

Soonyoung’s always had sharp eyes filled with intimidation, but they’ve softened over time. At least — for you.

He rolls his chair over to the edge of the bed, right in front of where you sat. Even sitting down, only a few feet apart, he still towered over your small frame. 

Your heartbeat quickens, breath hitching as he leans forward. Soonyoung cocks his head to the side as he inches closer, smirking the slightest when he notices your composure beginning to crumble and fall. You were never good at holding it together, but that’s why the boys were always there — to catch you just in case you fall. 

And damn, are you falling in deep right now.

His hand smooths over your arm, causing goosebumps to rise as he trails it upwards to cup the side of your face gently. His fingers thread through your hair, getting a better grip so he’s able to maneuver your head to the side. As soon as he gets you exactly where he wants you, his lips are on yours.

He doesn’t hesitate, and he certainly doesn’t take it easy on you. The kiss is heavy and urgent, with a fierce passion behind it — an intensity that sends a jolt of electricity coursing straight through your veins. His lips move with purpose, the hand on the back of your head drawing you impossibly closer to him. 

You try to match his fervor, but staying true to your nature, your movements are slower and deliberate. You’re sensual where he’s demanding, your tenderness creating a perfect tension that neither of you has the will to break. Your pace grounds him, and Soonyoung can’t help but release a low groan.

Jeonghan was right.

You kiss like an angel — intoxicating.

He takes the lead as expected. You sigh softly when he traces his tongue along your bottom lip. His hand settles on your thigh, slowly sliding higher. You feel his fingertips slip just beneath the edge of your shorts, caressing the soft skin under and you can’t help but let a whimper escape quietly. Soonyoung seizes the moment, your lips parting just enough so he can deepen the kiss and dip his tongue into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens when you tilt your head to accommodate him — your tongues dancing in perfect harmony as you explore each other's mouths.

He’s warm against your skin, anchoring you to the moment. Every brush, every tug, every calculated move that Soonyoung makes — he knows that he’s unraveling you. 

Corrupting you.

Not in a way that feels chaotic or rushed. And certainly not in a way with any ill intentions whatsoever. 

Soonyoung wasn’t just kissing you, but he was savoring you. He was reading every subtle cue as if a language only he understands. And with every second that passes, he pulls you deeper under until there’s nothing left but the warmth of his hands, the weight of his mouth, and the unfamiliar feeling of stickiness growing in your panties. 

He pulls away with one final lingering kiss, and your lips instinctively chase his own. Your eyes flutter open, still hazy as they focus on the man in front of you. 

Soonyoung leans back just enough to take you in. You were already a mess in the best way possible — lips slightly swollen, pupils dilated, and chest steadily rising as you try to catch your breath. 

The weight of his gaze only intensifies, drinking in every detail of you. Your eyes avoid his, cheeks flushed from not only the kiss but from his attention on you as well. 

He nods his head towards the pillows on his bed, and you take the hint. You grab one, handing it to him, only so he can place it directly behind you. Your eyes follow him as he does so, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them close. 

“Pick a word.” 

Your brows knit together, “A word?”

Soonyoung hums. He disregards your confusion, standing from the chair and walking over to his desk. He grabs the blunt he’d previously forgotten about off the rolling tray, lighting it up and taking a long drag. 

“Why?” You press.

“Because I told you to.” 

Well, he had you there.

Now that you think about it, you don’t remember a time where you’ve ever denied Soonyoung of anything. Whatever he asked of you — you’d always deliver. 

If he showed up at your house unannounced demanding you to take a break from school work, you’d follow him without a fight.

If a random guy on campus was flirting with you and Soonyoung warned you about him, you’d abide like his word was law. 

If Soonyoung told you no, that meant no. 

If Soonyoung asked you to do something, you did it — no questions asked.

From the time you two were kids on the playground, even till now, you’ve never disappointed him. It wasn’t because you were passive or afraid. And it wasn’t because he was demanding and mean. Soonyoung had never gotten that way with you and he never intends to. But you trusted him. Maybe too much to the point where obedience wasn’t an option, but rather an instinct. It came as naturally as breathing.

And that’s what he liked about you.

The others only ever listened in the bedroom, but you — you’d never let him down. No. You’d listen even outside of it.

“Y/n.”

Your head snaps up to look at Soonyoung. You hadn’t even realized that your thoughts had begun to stray.

“I told you to do something,” He raises an eyebrow, a silent warning.

Your eyes narrow, drifting around his room. It was a simple task, one you could decide with ease. But you took your time as if it held more meaning than it appeared to. 

Your gaze wanders, landing on a stuffed animal perched on the highest shelf in his room. It was tucked in the furthest corner, collecting dust and worn from age. You had gifted it to him years ago, and it’s become a sight you look for whenever you enter his bedroom. The stuffed animal stood out amongst the rest of his things, not quite fitting his aesthetic or personality. Soonyoung nor the other boys cared for cute, sentimental things. But the small trinkets you’d either given them or left behind were never discarded. No matter how long they’d been there. 

“Tiger.”

“Tiger?” Soonyoung glances at the plushie on his shelf, having completely forgotten about it. He’d debated tossing it out a few times, but he never had the heart to follow through. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was sentiment. Either way, he would never admit to it. You brought a softness into his life that he didn’t know he could carry, leaving traces of warmth in your wake. 

He turns back to you, expression unreadable. He raises his brows in amusement, taking another hit of his blunt. The smoke lingers in the air as he exhales. “Okay,” He sighs, “Then that’s your safe word.”

You barely have time to react when his demeanor shifts without warning. The haze of smoke in the air seems to still, Soonyoung’s gaze on you fixed and unrelenting. His jaw tightens, both of his hands rising to cradle your face and force you to maintain eye contact. “Listen to me,” He murmurs, voice unwavering, “If you begin to feel uncomfortable with anything — and I mean anything, you say tiger. Got it?”

It should be comical. Soonyoung of all people, demanding you to say a silly word you’d playfully chosen on a whim. But his tone leaves no room for argument. 

You nod hesitantly, fully alert as you’re taken aback by the gravity of the situation. The room suddenly feels smaller, charged with tension.

“I need you to use your words Y/n.” 

“Yes,” You confirm, softly but surely.

“If something doesn’t feel right — if at any point you feel uncertain, uneasy, or overwhelmed — you just say the word and I’ll let up. No questions. No hesitation.”

“Is that why it’s called a safe word?” You ask. 

He nods, silently answering your question.

“I don’t —,” You hesitate, chewing the inside of your cheeks, “I don’t think I’ll need it.” 

Soonyoung smiles just barely. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes and it looks as if he’s holding back anger that may or may not be directed towards you. 

Kwon Soonyoung was a man who hated many things. He hated when the price of cigarettes would change in every gas station he entered. He hated when a professor constantly nagged him for his shitty attendance. He hated when a flock of girls smothered him at a frat party, desperation evident with the way their hands glided over his body. 

But the one thing that Soonyoung hated most, was your habit of sacrificing your own needs for others. As long as he’s known you, you’ve always been a people pleaser. The words “no” and “I can’t do it,” have never been in your vocabulary because you were sure that with a little more effort, anything was possible. You went above and beyond, going an inch for people who wouldn’t even bother to go a centimeter for you. The boys always watched you closely, ensuring no one took advantage of your kindness. But you were just too nice for your own good. It was what made you, well…you.

“Trust me baby,” His grip on your face tightens firmly, “You’ll need it.”

Your mouth opens to stubbornly protest, but the look Soonyoung gives you causes the words to die in your throat. You cower back, a chill skimming down your spine from intimidation.

“It doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. I won’t be disappointed. I won’t be mad — I’d never be mad at you.”

Your eyes soften at his speech. The boys have never exactly been the talkative type and moments like this — honest, caring, thoughtful — are rare. 

“A safe word is put in place for a reason,” Soonyoung continues, “Even if you don’t think you need it.”

“Okay,” You reply, but it comes out flat. Soonyoung sees right through it, catching your half-hearted tone. He grinds his teeth, scanning your unsure expression. His fingers dig into your jaw, not quite hurting you, but with enough pressure to demand your undivided attention.

“I’m fucking serious Y/n,” He states sternly, “Listen to your body. Don’t try and test your limits because you think you can handle it.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your words tumble out, too quick for you to process. “Yes sir,” You say unconsciously.

The label you had called him by isn’t calculated. It isn’t meant to provoke or please. It slipped out instinctively, a response to the kind of authority that doesn’t scare you, but steadies you instead. 

Soonyoung doesn’t acknowledge it. He doesn’t smirk or tease the way he would had it been anyone else. With the others, he might’ve raised a brow. Might’ve let a smug grin spread across his face as he leaned in close just to watch them squirm and fluster. He knew how to play that part — confident, commanding, and in control.

But you — you’ve always been the exception. The only one able to break down their stone walls and thaw their icy hearts.

You see the flicker of approval flash across his features. He finally lets go of your face and you find yourself missing his touch as soon as it leaves. You’d grown accustomed to the heat of his hands and now that they're gone, it makes you realize how much comfort you found in his hold.

Soonyoung takes a step back. “Good girl,” He mutters, so softly that you barely catch it. 

A whine tries to force itself from your mouth, but you urge it back down. A heat rises in your chest, the familiar feeling of warmth you’d felt with Mingyu a week ago. The praise left you feeling fuzzy — reassured. 

Soonyoung closes his eyes, thoughts racking his brain. He figures that he’s too sober for this. Reaching out, he picks up his blunt yet again and goes in for another hit. The ember flares briefly in the dim lighting, and he uses the incoming feeling of a high to anchor himself.

He was good at control. He knew how to wield it with precision. But you had him in a chokehold that constantly left him breathless. If he planned to have you laid out like a meal right in front of him, he’d need a much better grasp on himself. 

He knows he can’t do it on impulse. Not with you. You deserve intention — care. He needed to take his time with you. Not rush things. Keep his pace slow and calm…at least to the best of his abilities. 

“Say it again.” 

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your safe word,” He clarifies, “I need to make sure you remember it. That you’re not going to forget it.”

“Oh…” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as the pieces click into place, “Right.”

Soonyoung arches a brow, eyes glittering in quiet amusement, “What did you think I was referring to?” 

You glance away, clearing your throat, “Nothing,” You shake your head to dismiss him. 

Soonyoung’s lips quirk and a teasing smile threatens to break across his face. 

“Tiger,” You repeat the word, hoping to appease him.

He hums in acknowledgment, “And you’ll do as I say and use it when you feel like you need to?” 

“Mhm…”

Soonyoung narrows his eyes at you. They scan over your figure, easily recognizing your body language. His lips press into a thin line and he struggles to contain his frustration. 

“Fine.” His voice comes out clipped, sharp even. 

Maybe it’s because of the endless years you’ve spent tangled in each other's lives, or maybe it’s because of the massive weak spot he’s grown for you over time — but Soonyoung knows you like the back of his hand. He’s slowly memorized every part of you. All the tells, all the signs. Your likes. Your dislikes. Even the smallest details that you haven’t figured out for yourself yet. 

So when you sit before him saying all the right things and giving him the answers he expects to hear, he’s able to read between the lines. 

You’ll endure it. Swallow it down and convince yourself you can handle it until you can’t. The instinct to please — to not disappoint — was practically in your blood.

He lets out a heavy sigh, turning his back to you. He runs a hand through his hair, foot tapping against the floorboard in a quiet rhythm to calm himself. 

A safe word has never been just a formality to Soonyoung. Especially when it came to scenes in which his usual dominance could possibly blur the lines between pleasure and intensity. He knew exactly how mean and demanding he could be, but despite that, he wasn’t heartless. At least, not completely. 

Unlike others who wielded dominance with cruel intentions, he knows what the word stop means. And he certainly knows that no means no.

So god forbid, he was trying to make sure it wasn’t your last resort. You needed to know how vital this conversation was — to know when to use it, understand your own limits, and most of all, realize that it’s okay to use it.

If you wouldn’t lean on the safety net yourself, then he would have to be the one to make sure it’s there. Not by force, never that. But with a precision that doesn’t thin the fragile line between challenge and care. The kind that gives you no room to hide even when you’re nearing that edge. 

Soonyoung grumbles, taking a swig from a nearby beer bottle. It was warm and flat, having been there for a few hours untouched, but it still does the trick. He sets it on his dresser with a clink, sitting back down on his desk chair and rolling it to the foot of his bed. He reaches out, arms wrapping around your thighs to yank your body towards him with a gentle force. 

You squeal in surprise, hands flying back to anchor yourself as he effortlessly drags you to the edge. The sheets bunch underneath your elbows, your pulse racing at the sudden motion. You blink at him wide-eyed, chest heaving in breathless anticipation. 

His calloused hands are rough on your smooth skin, fingers grazing over your thighs with a careful tenderness. His touch provides you with a comfort you always seem to long for.

One minute he’s talking to you — engaging in a casual conversation, or as much conversation as you’ll get from one of the boys; they weren’t much talkers. But the next, your shorts are suddenly discarded, thrown carelessly on the ground. Without even realizing, your body had responded — hips lifting unconsciously and making it easier for Soonyoung to pull off. His words served as a distraction and he’d made sure your focus was trained on him the entire time. 

You didn’t think much of it. You’ve occasionally walked around the house wearing far too little in search of a comfy hoodie or a pair of pants fresh out the dryer. Sometimes — even to make sure that your cookies didn’t burn, and that’s exactly how you ended up squirting all over Jeonghan’s lap last time. 

But usually, the boys never spared you a glance. And if they did, they never allowed their minds to wander anywhere inappropriate. 

You weren’t anywhere near the typical girls (sluts as they would prefer to be called) they hooked up with. 

No — you were you. 

There was always that unspoken line written in your friendship. One in which they never dared to cross. But with how men have turned into dogs over time, they’d rather it be them than anyone else. 

Soonyoung rests his hand on the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your covered cunt. Immediately, your body stiffens. His thumb rubs soothing circles on your skin, but you can’t seem to concentrate on it as his breath ghosts over your neck. Your heart rate increases just as he lays a gentle kiss to your pulse point and it leaves you wondering whether he can feel the thumping on his lips. 

He presses soft kisses to your skin, trailing upwards towards your jaw. Your lids flutter, breath hitching as his mouth moves deliberately slow. A whimper almost escapes when one of his fingers swipe directly over your slit. The action causes moisture to spread in your panties; thin, white, and nearly sheer from sticking to your skin due to your arousal. 

“Relax,” Soonyoung mutters, noticing the quick rise and fall of your chest, “You’re too tense.” 

You nod obediently, granting him further access by unconsciously tilting your head. He sucks on the skin directly under your jaw and as he takes his time marking your flesh with his mouth, your pussy throbs in response. 

Soonyoung’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your underwear. He lets his touch linger, toying with the material. It’s only when his lips find yours again, that he tugs it down. You lift yourself partially off the bed, too distracted to care as he deepens the kiss. It helps him remove the garment completely, tucking it into his back pocket. 

You whine as he breaks contact, pulling away. Soonyoung disregards you, instead pushing you down with a firm hand on your shoulder. Your back meets the mattress, legs clamped shut. Soonyoung clicks his tongue in disapproval. He shoots you a stern look, tapping at the side of your thigh. 

“Open.” 

You don’t listen, a small voice in the back of your head warning you that your dignity is fading even more so after your escapades with Jeonghan and Mingyu. 

“Y/n,” Soonyoung says, voice strict, “Open your legs.”

His tone causes you to whimper, your tummy turning nervously. You gaze up at him with wide puppy dog eyes — soft, pleading, and silently hoping it’ll melt the merciless wall he’s putting up. 

Soonyoung sighs, demeanor faltering. His eyes soften as they meet yours and he realizes that maybe he should be a little nicer. Your trust in him was currently at an all-time high and he would be damned to scare you away. 

“Come on baby,” He tries again. This time, he pries your knees apart for you. He keeps his eyes trained on yours the entire time, ignoring the pretty view between your thighs to save you from your nervousness of being on display. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

Your cheeks flush at his words, embarrassment flooding your senses. You squirm under his stare, holding it to the best of your ability. Coyly, you tilt your head in agreement.

Soonyoung subtly perks up. “Yeah?” He asks again. “You want that?” 

“Yeah,” You whisper lightly. 

His lips quirk into a smile, dropping as fast as it flashes across his face. His line of vision trails down to your neck, lingering over your tits, to your stomach, then finally settling on the prize. 

You were soaked, essence dripping onto the comforter below you. 

Soonyoung has to muffle a groan, his cock pulsing at the sight. He lays a delicate peck on your knee, unable to tear his eyes away. 

Out of all the girls he’s fucked — bent over, underneath, on top — your body was home to the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen.

Soonyoung bites his tongue, a degrading term threatening to roll off. He was meant to humiliate, to tease; but he could never do that to you. His respect for you outweighed his usual dominance by a landslide. 

His hand smooths over your pelvis and you flinch at the unexpectedness of his touch. You watch him between your legs as he kisses the inside of your left thigh, gradually moving downwards. You tense as he nears dangerous territory, but his fingers dig into your skin, massaging your muscles and loosening them. 

Both of his hands travel to the underside of your thighs near your ass. Gently, he rests them there, pushing upwards and further spreading you apart for him. Your mind screams at you to have a little more shame, but your body denies the request as your cunt gushes in excitement. 

Soonyoung focuses on your skin, laying pecks all around. He avoids your pussy, wanting to make you more comfortable before diving in. You feel his lips graze just below your belly button, moving south. 

A shiver rolls down your spine when you finally feel him place a kiss directly on your clit. A sound of satisfaction leaves your mouth and it gives Soonyoung the green light he needs.

Leisurely, he licks a stripe from your dripping hole to your bud. The action draws a whimper from you, a spike of pleasure easily spreading. He continues, keeping the same pace as he repeats the movement. Your lids flutter shut as you bask in the feeling. It dwells, enough to keep you content, but not enough to send you over the edge. 

Your wetness gathers on his tongue and Soonyoung figures that if he could have one meal for the rest of his life, it would be you. 

The taste of your cunt is addicting, even more so as he dips his tongue into your entrance. You whimper, legs spreading further apart. 

A choked moan slips out as he speeds up. His tongue moves rapidly and he bobs his head to add stimulation. You pant, chest visibly heaving as he looks up at you. Your head is thrown back against his bed, fingers gripping tightly at the duvet. He’s able to see the swell of your breasts from his line of vision and he reaches an arm up your stomach to fondle one under your shirt.  

His touch ignites a spark within you, his thumb grazing over your nipple and causing it to harden. He rolls the bud expertly, pinching it between two fingers and tugging slightly. You mewl in delight, hips bucking to grind against Soonyoung’s face. He chuckles into your cunt at your reaction, the vibration sending rippling waves of pleasure coursing through you. 

Your hand wraps around Soonyoung’s wrist, holding his arm there as his fingers play with your tit. You shut your eyes and he has half the right mind to scold you. He wants you entirely focused on him, but he decides that he should let you have this one — to be present in your pleasure instead of attentive to him. 

He shakes his head, the sudden movement causing your body to jerk. His tongue flattens against your clit, rough and wet as he quickly laps at the bundle of nerves. Your mouth opens, a string of whines escaping as your stomach muscles tighten. 

“Soonie,” You gasp, cut off by the sound of another whine escaping your lips. 

Soonyoung only hums. He pinches your nipple gently and you grind your pussy against his tongue again. He can sense your eagerness and it leaves him unfamiliar with the feeling of wanting to give in — to let you cum without begging or crying. 

So he does. 

He keeps the same tempo, refusing to change rhythm even just the slightest. His tongue flicks viciously at your clit, hands locking your thighs into place to ensure you don’t move. You try to thrash, but he keeps you grounded, unable to run away from him. 

You pull at the comforter, using it as your personal stress ball. It bunches in your grip but does nothing to put out the fire growing within your body. 

You’re hot — too hot. Your skin is tingling and ears are starting to hear a ring as Soonyoung transports you into a world of ecstasy. 

“Soonie, please.” You don’t know what you’re pleading for, but you can still decipher the desperation in your voice. The feeling is all too familiar to the one you’d felt with Jeonghan and you realize that you’d do anything to experience it again. 

Soonyoung hears you loud and clear despite your words coming out hurried and hushed. He uses his thumbs, spreading your pussy and giving him further access directly to your clit. You can feel everything a little better when he does and just as his thumb grazes through your wet slit, the coil snaps. 

Over the years, Soonyoung has seen you in a million different ways in a million different instances. But this — coming undone on his tongue, endless loud whines leaving your mouth, and legs spread far apart as he devours your pretty pussy — takes the cake. 

“Soonie!” You can do nothing but say his name, hole clenching around nothing. Your cunt gushes a fluid that you can feel drenching the sheets below you and Soonyoung lifts his head to admire. He replaces his tongue with his hand, fingers rubbing figure eights over your clit to help you ride out your orgasm. 

In a world full of sex, featuring Kwon Soonyoung — you’re either a creamer or a squirter.

In Soonyoung’s case, he just so happened to adore squirters. The messier, the better. 

“There we go,” He praises, “That’s a good girl.” 

Your legs threaten to close but he holds them open, fingers working expertly to prolong your orgasm. You can hear the audible sounds of your slick as he runs his finger through your folds and it only adds to the filth you’re experiencing. 

The pleasurable rush feels like it lasts for ages, but eventually, you come down from the high. Your mouth falls open as you try and catch your breath, endless pants falling from your lips. 

Your chest rises and falls, heart still racing as if trying to catch up. You blink slowly, trying to center yourself. You feel Soonyoung’s hand on your inner thigh, ghosting over your cunt as his other hand massages your trembling legs. You find strength within yourself to prop your upper half up, using your elbows as leverage. 

Soonyoung was nicer than usual, giving you at least a few minutes to rest before he attempted to thrust you toward the edge yet again. One minute, you’re staring into his eyes from between your legs, and the next, your back hits the mattress from the sheer hostility of his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up your arousal, tongue lapping through your folds. His lips hover directly above your clit, closing around the bud and sucking harshly. The action causes your back to arch, a cry emitting loudly throughout the room. Your hole clenches around nothing, excess fluid dripping onto the comforter. 

Soonyoung pokes his head up, mouth shining from your juices. “You're making a mess, sweetheart.” His thumb replaces his mouth, rubbing over your clit slowly. 

“M’ sorry,” You whimper softly, “Can’t help it.” 

Soonyoung hums, faux sympathy lacing his features. “Feels too good, doesn’t it?”

You nod with lidded eyes, hips bucking against his hand, “So good Soonie.”

He chuckles, head dipping low to dart out his tongue yet again.

Amongst the many rumors circling the grounds of your university, today, you’ve debunked one: Kwon Soonyoung lives up to his title of being a munch.

You try and count how many seconds pass by before your skin starts to tingle. Soonyoung shifts his focus solely on your clit, opting to suck instead of lick. The suction leaves you fidgeting from overstimulation, sensitivity from your last orgasm still fresh as you barrel towards another one. 

It washes over you faster than before — much stronger. Soonyoung doesn’t adjust his pace to accommodate your thrashing. Instead, he holds your hips down on the bed, lips attached to your clit. Your essence paints the lower half of his face, pussy leaking messily of wetness. 

An endless string of pitiful whines escape from you, but it does little for Soonyoung to show mercy. His mouth stays glued to your pussy, even despite the fight you put up. 

“T-too much,” You whimper, feeling somewhat overstimulated. You shuffle around on the mattress, trying to escape. It only grants you a short minute of relief as his lips detach from you, but it doesn’t last long. His hands grip your legs, pulling you back to him. 

“You know your safe word,” His hands settle on the back of your thighs to hold you open for him, “Use it.” 

You let out a choked sob when you feel him again, flinching as the tip of his tongue pokes at your entrance. It threatens to push further, but instead, he swipes it through your folds. It feels rigid against your clit, alternating between tracing circles and flicking.

You try not to get too loud, embarrassed that the other boys might hear you through the walls of his bedroom. But as the pleasure builds in your lower abdomen, your dignity fades away slowly, but surely. 

When you cum for the third time, you start to get antsy. Your thighs twitch involuntarily, attempting to pry themselves from Soonyoung’s grasp. They tremble when he urges them farther apart, addicted to the taste of your cunt. 

The fourth spirals into you out of thin air, only seconds apart from the last. Your hand darts out, tangling in Soonyoung’s hair. You nudge him away subtly, fighting the urge to pull him closer and grind your pussy against his tongue. He slows his pace until you calm down, but picks up not long after. 

Each time Soonyoung swears it's the last — but he was on an agenda to hear your safe word from your mouth. You could only last so long; and with the way he was wearing you thin, Soonyoung knew that you were nearing that brink.

“C’mon Y/n,” He encourages, “Just say it.” 

“No,” You whine softly, “I can take it.” 

You can feel his annoyance through his fingertips digging into your skin.

“I don’t think you can, baby.” 

“Soonyoung,” Your voice is a cry — desperate. “More please.” 

He sighs, eyes skirting over you. He blinks fast, visibly irritated, but nods. His tongue flattens against your pussy, getting to work once again. 

You can feel your muscles loosening, unable to control them as your fifth orgasm takes over. Your thighs spasm, legs flailing as you kick. Soonyoung’s arms wrap firmly around them, anchoring you. His hands rest on your stomach, pushing your hips down to stay still. He watches you like a hawk, tongue moving diligently.

By the time your sixth orgasm rolls around, you’re a mess. Your mind is hazy, vision blurry from the tears filling your eyes. You mutter incoherent babbles, words jumbling together. The only thing you can find yourself being aware of is Soonyoung’s mouth latched to your cunt and the bliss that surges through your body. You can mildly feel yourself squirting, soaking the sheets beneath your lower half. 

Your seventh orgasm is when the word finally tumbles from your lips. It comes out rushed, with a loud cry. Tears drip down the sides of your face, unbearable pleasure ripping through you. It borders on the edge of painful, but the familiar feeling of euphoria along with it, keeps you at bay. 

“Tiger, tiger, tiger.” You repeat, although you didn’t have to. As soon as your safe word met his ears, Soonyoung let up. 

Your body feels like mush, sinking deeper into the mattress. Your pussy throbs, yearning for more but you clench your thighs shut, thankful for mercy instead. Your palms cover your face, wiping at your wet eyes.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Soonyoung watches as you hide your face behind your hands. He rubs his own along the side of your leg, helping coax you into a calmer state. 

You respond with a short whimper, barely audible. You feel messy and in desperate need of a cold shower. You whine this time, suddenly aware and shy of your current predicament. 

Soonyoung’s touch leaves for a short minute. You have the urge to peek through your fingers, seeking out his comfort again, but he returns quickly. He pries your hands away from your face, nudging you to sit up. You do so reluctantly, curling your chest into your knees when you do. Your body is heavy and threatens to fall against the plush mattress again, but Soonyoung keeps you stable with a grip on your shoulder. 

He holds something to your mouth. The plastic material nudges against your lips, and you furrow your brows. 

“Drink.” 

You hesitantly sip the water he’s offering. It’s only then that you realize exactly how dry your throat felt. It makes you wonder how loud you were actually being. 

You try to pull away after a few gulps, but Soonyoung hums with disapproval. “Uh-uh.” He holds the straw steady in your mouth, refusing to budge, “Drink more, you need to stay hydrated.” 

Grumbling, you gulp down a bit more to appease him. You sip slowly, leaning into his touch as he pets the wild strands of your hair down. 

“You did good,” He praises, “I’m proud of you.” 

You stare up at him with doe-eyes, throat bobbing the more you drink. You acknowledge his words with the squint of your eyes, but your brain barely comprehends them in your fucked out state. 

Soonyoung removes the straw when he’s satisfied with your water intake, setting the bottle down. Your legs swing over the side of the bed when he’s turned away to get up, but a rush of dizziness consumes you when you start to stand. Your limbs feel like jelly and Soonyoung has to dart forward to catch you before you fall. 

“Not so fast baby,” His hands are firm on your hips, stabilizing you. Your palms rest on his shoulders, holding on tightly for support as he lowers you to sit on the bed. “I’ll get you all cleaned up. Just rest for a bit.” 

You want to protest, but Soonyoung’s tone leaves no room for argument. He crouches down in front of you, staring up into your eyes. They’re softer than usual, unlike the sharp gaze that tears through you whenever you glance into them. Your head tilts to the side when he cups your face, thumb gently ghosting over your cheek. 

“Tired Soonie,” You say softly. Your lids flutter, wanting to close but you keep them open to the best of your ability. The sleepiness stems out of nowhere, but now that Soonyoung is making you take a breather, it hits you full force. 

“You’re tired?” His eyebrows perk up, attentive to your growing sluggishness. 

You nod, leaning further against his hand cupping your face. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” You confirm.

“Take a nap then,” He gestures his head to the pillows before standing up and towering over you. 

“But —,” You try to rebuttal, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“I’ll clean you up, don’t worry. Just sleep baby,” He ruffles your hair, urging you to crawl back against the bed, “I got you.” 

An argument sits at the tip of your tongue, but it vanishes as soon as your head hits his soft, fluffy pillow. His familiar scent of sandalwood and light musk fills your senses, providing you with a comfort that eases you into a peaceful sleep. 

Soonyoung disappears to retrieve a towel from his bathroom, but when he gets back, you’re already fast asleep. He almost chuckles at how quickly you’d managed to drift off, but he shakes his head instead, gently patting the towel against your skin. 

Your thighs were still drenched and pussy dripping, but he can’t find it within himself to care — he’s going to have to change his sheets anyway.

Most days he’s prepared for this, already having a towel laid down and bedsheets stripped before indulging in anything sexual. He knows that things can get messy when it comes to him, so he’s always one step ahead. 

But this is different — this is you. And you’ve always been the only exception.

[streets-in-paradise]

Me, trying to explain how I got here with the craziest motherfucker in the movie: ... He has a tender, reflexive side that was vaguely explored in the film through the romantical and platonical scenes with his love interest and friends, but then he died. For so, it's fertile ground for me to write exploring it and the duality of the man makes me go insane as i do so.

Meanwhile the craziest motherfucker in the movie:

[catcze-hiatus20250524]

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !! — Sylus. got insanely horny & needy earlier and typed this up in a haze. no editing just wanting him to kiss with his cum still dripping out of me ₊˚⊹♡

Sylus is the kind of man who peppers your face in kisses while his weight crushes you to the bed, your mixed cum still leaking where his softening cock plugs you up. He’s the kind of man who, boneless and pliant from how hard he came, is driven by only one urge now— to make sure you know how much he loves you.

You’re coming down from how intense and passionate Sylus gets during your lovemaking when he begins to leave kisses wherever he can reach. The press of his lips on your face are soft and fleeting like a flurry of butterflies, but each one carries his devotion— his adoration. With how tightly his chest is pressed against yours, you can feel how his heart races and skips when you giggle, jokingly trying to push his lips away from your face. You can even feel how his cock twitches when you smile at him.

“You’re so clingy,” you say, voice hoarse from the sounds he had dragged out from you. A hand gently caresses his cheek, your thumb pressing into the plush of his lips and stroking them fondly. And Sylus, in turn, sighs like your touch is pure bliss —eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles into your hand— and presses a kiss to the base of your palm.

“Can you blame me?” Comes his low murmur, “Making love to you brings me euphoria that I can never hope to replicate.”

You just fondly shake your head, the apples of your cheeks warming from the soft, tender look he levels you with. When his eyes meet yours, there is nothing in there but a love so deep that you fear you could drown in it.

“I love you,” Sylus says a moment later, cheek still pressed against yours hand, humming softly when he feels you tiredly clench around him. He kisses your hand again.

And oh, the effect he has on your heart is illegal. Sylus is so tender and vulnerable in your palms —nothing like the feared fiend from ancient legend, nothing like the terrifying boss of Onychynus. Here, heris just a man, softened by love and kisses. Rough, calloused palms are now so painstakingly gentle when they trail up your body in reverence, caressing you like you are one of his most valuable treasures.

“I love you too,” is all you can bear to say, the words just the tip of the iceberg of how deeply you return his affections. And like he knows what you really mean, Sylus smiles against the cradle of your palm and pulls you into a tender, sweet kiss that blurs the rest of the world.

[missdynamighttt]

bf! katsuki would DEFINITELY be the type to bite on your shoulders.

the first time it happened was when you both were tangled together on the couch, the room dimly lit by the flicker of the tv premiering a corny rom-com film katsuki deemed was "cringe and unrealistic."

katsuki had pulled you close, his arm slung lazily over your waist. as you shifted to get comfortable, his lips brushed against your bare shoulder. what started as gentle kisses suddenly turned into a playful bite.

"katsuki... did you just bite me?"

his crimson eyes held a hint of mischief as he grinned at you, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly.

"maybe. gonna do something about it, sweets?"

"... no."

"mhm, thats what i thought."

after that night, whenever you two were close—whether you were cooking together in the kitchen, cuddled up together on the couch, or having the most brain-melting sex —it became a habit for him.

katsuki’s lips would always find your shoulder, his teeth grazing the curve of your skin. it wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t soft either. it was a lingering, claiming touch that sent shivers down your spine every time.

it wasn’t just physical; there was something possessive in the way katsuki did it. he never said it outright, but you could feel it in the way his teeth lingered. it was oddly intimate, like he was claiming a piece of you that no one else could see.

"katsuki!" you whine as you feel his teeth sink into you, eyes rolled to back of your head as he thrusts inside of you.

"what, you don't like it?" he teased, his breath hot against your neck, kissing the spot he previously bit.

"i-it's weird! why do you do it, 'nyway...?" you gasp, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

"dunno. 'cause it feels good. 'cause i can," he grunts, his movements becoming rougher. "plus, the way you react... it's kinda hot."

"how?"

he pulled back slightly, his eyes roaming over your flushed face and he gave you a lazy smile.

"the way you squirm. the little gasps you make. the way your breath hitches when i do it... it's hot."

"perv."

he chuckled at your response, his arm tightening around your waist. "maybe," he murmured against your skin, his lips finding their way back to your neck."but i'm your perv."

"fuck," tears pool at your eyes, clinging onto him. "katsuki, gonna.."

"yeah? cum for me baby, c'mon," he breathes as he slams you down on his cock, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more eratic as he chases both of your release.

katsuki bites into your shoulder again, the pressure of his teeth on your sensitive skin driving you mad. your body trembles in response, the sensation of pain and pleasure mixing together as the intoxicating smell of sex floods your nose.

afterward, he pulls away from your shoulder, his lips immediately finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss. the bite might have been intense, but the kiss that follows is tender, his lips moving against yours with an affectionate yet sure touch.

the kiss slowly breaks, but his lips linger close to yours. he gazes at you intently, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort or doubt. he wants to make sure you're okay, that the bite didn't go too far.

"you okay?" katsuki looks at you as if you're his entire world. he reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"yeah," you nod, still trying to catch your breath as you recover from the aftershocks of pleasure.

"good," he hums, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of affection. he can't resist the urge and leans in again, his teeth sinking once more into the tender skin of your shoulder. he immediately kisses the spot afterward, his lips gentle against the reddened skin.

it's his love language. its his way of telling you that you're unequivocally his.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ real self indulgent. happy holidays everyone 💜💜💜

[slightly-knot-insane]

Signature

He can't help it. He is panting and drooling all over you, baring his teeth. He has to bite you.

There is barely any self-control left within his body. He is holding you, pounding into you, drowning in your moans and mewls and whimpers. You orgasmed two times already and you are getting closer to the third one. He can sense them, your spasms, and the quickening of your heart. But he is so close too. The jerks of his hips, slamming against your pelvis - they are quickening, becoming more erratic, desperate, intense.

"Give it to me." He is breathless. "Give it to me one more time. I need to feel you cumming around my cock again."

His demand sends you over the edge. You cry out his name. The one he told you long time ago, as a way of bonding and making you his mate. Hearing you say his name in such ecstasy sets him on fire. He curls around you, pressing his torso against yours and biting your tender shoulder as he fills you with his hot cum. His grunts are vibrating through your body, the pain melting into pleasure. His teeth mark you yet again, placing a signature of his passion.

You are his. Your blood flows into his mouth, between his sharp teeth.

He is yours. You moan his name again, blissfully, taking his seed.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Ah, kinks—something all humans have, especially those who read fanfics. I mean, who doesn’t love them? Whether it’s the soft, the spicy, or the downright unhinged, there’s always something that hits just right.

Let’s be real: scrolling through AO3, Tumblr, or Wattpad at 3 AM, looking for that one specific trope that scratches the brain itch?

Yeah, we’ve all been there.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet.

Hope you enjoy reading!

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with the man himself—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. Though the details are still unclear, he exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy. 

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…) 

For Crowe preferences!!

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished. 

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender. 

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after. 

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.  

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.  

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment. 

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.  

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.  

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.  

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment. 

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew. 

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore. 

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer. 

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable. 

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy. 

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down. 

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions. 

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous. 

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache.

You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you with his cock, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His fingers tease your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want, love. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing down lightly as if testing the waters. 

A soft moan released from your lips as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His soft gin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory. 

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears running down your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him. 

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.  

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you. 

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences. 

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.   

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor. 

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.  

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability. 

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there. 

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed. 

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching. 

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.  

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares. 

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away. 

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break. 

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior. 

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable. 

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable. 

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.  

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it. 

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.  

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.  

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.  

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.  

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

✑ Somnophillia 

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend. 

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you. 

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.  

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you. 

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.  

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.  

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.  

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.  

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.  

God, he was losing it.  

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further. 

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly.

Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it? 

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry! 

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything. 

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special.

So sacred.

There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Even the shadowed obsession that came with it. 

[dancewithdeath11]

Keep It Down

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Trying to not wake anyone up while staying over for the holidays…

Warnings: Intense feels, trying to stay quiet, hand over mouth, Smut 18+, literally just pp in vv moment, petnames (Ma (ofc, this is Jaybird we’re talkin’ about), baby), crying but…in the hot way?, obsessed with this concept ngl. Yes, I got lazy at the end, don’t judge.. :(

Word count: 1k

======

It was all quiet pants and silent tears. 

The holidays had rolled around and the two of you were staying at Wayne Manor for the week. A classic Gotham storm raged outside, snow gently falling as lightning flashed through the closed curtains of Jason’s room. Thunder shook the house, momentarily deafening what was happening. 

You and Jason were always recklessly in love. So, no wonder you couldn’t keep your hands to yourselves for more than a day. The only problem was volume. And shit, could Jason make you lose your voice moaning and crying out his name. On the other hand, it would be sucky to be caught by one of his brothers, let alone Alfred or Bruce… 

“Gotta stay quiet, baby.. Can you do that for me?” Was what he murmured in your ear before you got started. 

He was slow, loving with his slow but deep thrusts. His dick hitting that spot within you that made your back arch and nails drag down his back, leaving angry red streaks in their wake. Fuck, he knew how to make your head spin. 

Tears streaked down your cheeks, shallow breaths leaving your parted lips. Jason ate it up, kissing and nipping along your neck. Tasting your skin and groaning into your neck to keep his own noises to a minimum. Calloused hands gripping your thighs to haul them up around his waist to get a better angle. The whine you let out was quickly muffled by his lips capturing yours in a deep kiss. “Shhh.. I know, ma, I know..” He mumbled against your mouth. 

As he had your lips captured, his hands moved up. Pulling you up into an arch by your waist before wrapping his arms around. Shoving his arms between you and the bed. Chest to chest, arms hugging your middle like he was scared you’d slip away. When he finally pulled away to breathe, his forehead dropped to your shoulder. Hot breath fanning across your skin making a shiver run up your spine. 

“Oh shit…” You breathed, hand coming up to drag through his dark hair. Gripping with shaky fingers, lightly tugging, making Jason practically growl into your skin. Brows pinched in pleasure as tears fell back into your hairline. Every roll of his hips takes your breath away and makes you tremble. His fingers dug into your back as he squeezed you tighter. 

Fire.. that's what you felt. Crawling beneath your skin, licking at your core making your stomach flip. Pushing you closer and closer to your high with every thrust, sharp breath, and moan. Trying to keep quiet. Desperately. But it was so difficult with how overwhelming it was. The thrill of accidentally being too loud. Passionate tenderness that made your head spin and tears prick your eyes. In a vulnerable state of intense pleasure and connection. All while your loving boyfriend whispered sweet nothings into your skin. “That’s it, ma..I’ve got you.. Just let go, I’ve got you..” 

Flushed and blissed out, your head pressed back to the pillows. Whimpering an, “Oh my god..” into the darkness of the room. Maybe a little too loud than you should’ve… 

Jason was quick to remedy your loss of volume control. His hand coming up to cover your mouth, his other arm still securely holding you to him. While he loved how wrecked you sounded, he didn’t want to get caught..You breathed harshly through your nose as you let out a ragged moan that got muffled by his palm. “Baby, baby.. Gotta keep it down..” He murmured, voice laced with desire.

Despite his words, he picked up the pace a little, rocking against you with more intensity. Hitting harder, somehow it felt deeper too. Eyes squeezed shut as you tried to focus on your pleasure and keep your moans down. 

Pressing closer, practically suffocating you with his weight. Draping himself over you like a protective blanket made up of over two hundred pounds of muscle. His hand left your mouth to grip the pillow next to your head. His head dropping once more, groaning right into your ear. “C’mon, ma..” You were so close…

You choked and pressed your face to his neck. Letting out a strangle moan you muffle against his skin. Finally reaching that peak. It wasn’t fast and strong like it usually would be. The kind that would have you moaning shamelessly and crying out his name. No.. This twisted your spine and burned through your veins. Making you choke on your own air and hold your breath. Crashing over your body like waves on an ocean shore. Tensing as you gripped him where you could. Pawing desperately at his skin for purchase as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Then you let out a sob of raw pleasure, still muffled against his skin. Shaking as you rode out your high. Thighs trembling around his waist as your body pulsed with the aftershocks. He slowed down for a moment, cooing softly in your ear and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

When you finally calmed down enough, he took your chin in hand, “Yeah..?” He mumbled to you. Seeking permission, seeing if he could be selfish now. Chase his pleasure. All you could do was tighten your legs around his waist again and nod weakly. Arms pulling him closer once more. “Yeah..” He quickly sought out your lips, locking you in a deep and needy kiss as he picked up the pace again. 

Panting and pressing as deep as he could. His groans went straight into your mouth as he chased his release. He wasn’t far behind. His hips stuttered before he let out a strangled moan, “Baby..” he grumbled against your lips. Giving a few short thrusts as he finished. Jason finally broke the kiss with a heavy sigh. A string of saliva connected you still before he licked his lips. “Fuck, you did so good for me..” He praised softly as he caressed your cheek. Thumbs wiping away the tears. 

“Fuck yeah, I did..” You gave a tired smirk. He paused before he gave a slow smirk of his own. 

“As if, you were loud as hell.”

“Shut up…”

[taeyongdoyoung]

lobos, we cannot stop hunting

summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k

"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.

"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."

"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.

You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.

"Can't you get more?" you ask him.

"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."

"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.

Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.

"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."

"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."

"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."

"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."

"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."

Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.

"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."

Little does he know it has already begun to rise...

"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.

Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.

As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.

He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.

You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.

Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.

"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.

"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."

"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."

Oh? Wait...OH!!!

"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.

"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.

"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.

Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.

"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."

"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.

Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.

Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.

"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.

"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.

You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.

Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.

"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.

"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.

It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.

"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."

Chan laughs cruelly.

"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.

It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.

"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.

"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.

"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.

"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"

"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.

"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.

"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.

You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.

Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-

"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.

Okay, not so sweet after all.

"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.

He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"

"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.

Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.

Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.

"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...

Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.

"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.

It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.

"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.

"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.

"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.

"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.

"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"

"Who needs sleep anyways?"

The End

[nicholasluvbot]

SWEET AS SINㅤ ◞ㅤ 或 ❜ㅤ ── 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ｡

𝖲𝖳𝖮𝖱𝖣𝖨𝖳𝖮𝖱𝖤 ★ ──── 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗅 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 ｡

𝑓 ⟡ㅤ 700ㅤ ｡ ㅤ𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ❜ ㅤ ── 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉ㅤ ✴ㅤ 𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝗂𝖵𝖨𝖮

𝑙 ｡ 𝗀𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆 🍀

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮

sungho’s hands are firm on your waist, gripping just tight enough to make you feel desired, but never too much. he loves pinning you against something, one hand cradling your head as he tilts it just right, so he can kiss you deeper, better. his fingers squeeze your side lightly, his lips grazing yours before he nips at your lower lip,pulling back just enough to scan your face with yearning eyes. he watches the way your breath hitches, the way your lips part slightly, and it drives him crazy—then he’s kissing you again—insatiable, passionate—like he’s addicted to the taste of you.

𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖱𝖨𝖶𝖮𝖮

the moment your lips touch, he holds you like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. his hands are slow, deliberate, savoring every second. they start at your waist, fingertips barely pressing in before sliding up—tracing the curve of your back, the slope of your shoulder, finally settling at the nape of your neck. he tilts his head, deepening the kiss with a quiet sigh, his lips moving over yours with a gentleness that makes your chest ache. when you shift closer, his arms wrap around you fully, pulling you into his warmth. and when he finally pulls away, it’s only to brush his lips against yours once more, a soft smile forming before he whispers, “stay right here.”

𝖬𝖸𝖴𝖭𝖦 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖧𝖸𝖴𝖭

jaehyun doesn’t just kiss you—he worships you. his hands are everywhere, never settling in one place for too long. one moment, his fingers are tangled in your hair, the next, they’ve slipped under your shirt, tracing slow circles against your waist, brushing over your jaw—like he needs to memorize every inch of you. he kisses you deeply, thoroughly, like he doesn’t know when he’ll get to kiss you again. when you shift closer, he hums in satisfaction, pulling you fully into his lap, arms tightening around you as if he never wants to let go. and when he finally, reluctantly, pulls away, he presses kisses along your jaw, down to your neck, before murmuring, “let’s stay like this a little longer.”

𝖧𝖠𝖭 𝖳𝖠𝖤𝖲𝖠𝖭

he kisses you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. his hands cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones, holding you still as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. yet, there’s nothing rushed about it—just slow, unrelenting passion, like he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into the way his lips move against yours. one hand drifts down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and when he finally pulls away, he lingers—his forehead pressed against yours, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your wrist. his voice is quiet, rough with emotion. “i could kiss you forever.”

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖫𝖤𝖤𝖧𝖠𝖭

he kisses you with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. there’s no urgency in the way he holds you, just a quiet certainty—the way his hands find your waist, fingers pressing in just enough to keep you close, thumbs skimming absentmindedly over your ribs. when you shift closer, his arms wrap around you fully, warm and secure, his palms gliding up your back in slow, soothing strokes. he tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a soft hum, as if he’s perfectly content to stay like this forever. when he finally pulls back, his fingers trail gently over your cheek, like he can’t bear to stop touching you just yet. then, with a soft smile, he leans in again, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖶𝖮𝖮𝖭𝖧𝖠𝖪

he doesn’t just hold you—he clings. his hands are restless, fingers skimming over your sides, gripping at your sleeves, pressing against your back like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. at first, he kisses you hesitantly, like he’s afraid you might pull away. but the moment you respond, he melts—arms wrapping fully around your waist, pulling you so close you can feel his heart racing. when you pull away, he barely gives you a second to breathe before chasing after your lips again, eyes dazed, cheeks burning, his voice a breathless whisper against your skin. “one more,” he pleads, “just one more.”

ㅤnetworks ◞ @kstrucknet @k-films @sgz-net

[lilbluustar]

anton is a soft boy 99% of the time, but that 1%…?

anton's 99% soft side…

⋆ from the first day you met him, you knew that anton was one of the sweetest people ever. not only because of the way he speaks, always slow and soft, but also because of the warmth with which he looks at you, as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

⋆ he's detailed without having to do it on purpose. he remembers everything: your favorite foods, how you drink your coffee, which movies you love and which ones you hate. he's the type to text you just to know if you've eaten, if you had a good day, if you got home okay. when you're sick, it's not enough to tell him you'll take care of yourself; he shows up with medicine, hot food and stays by your side until you feel better.

⋆ anton is the kind who hugs you from behind without warning, the kind who plays with your hair while you fall asleep, the kind who looks at you with a silly smile when you think he's not seeing you. he loves with all his heart, without hesitation, without fear. when he sees you, his expression lights up, his eyes become bright and his happiness is evident.

“you look beautiful today… well, always.” he tells you so without hesitation, without shame. to him, you're the best thing that ever happened to him and he's not afraid to show it.

⋆ he's the kind of boyfriend who holds your hand in public no matter who's looking, who covers you with his jacket when it's cold, who lets you sleep on his chest and arranges your hair with infinite tenderness. no matter how much time passes, anton still looks at you with that genuine adoration, as if he falls more in love every day.

and then, when you least expect it, that 1% appears.

that 1%...

⋆ anton is patient, calm and loving… until he stops being so. and not because he gets angry easily, but because when he decides to let out that other side of his personality, there's no turning back.

⋆ he will always be protective, anton is not one to pick fights, but if someone disrespects you, his energy changes for a second. his posture becomes rigid, his gaze darkens and his jaw tenses. He doesn't need to raise his voice to make his presence known.

“she told you what?” his tone is low, but charged with authority. he doesn't rush, he's not impulsive, but there's something about his attitude that would make anyone think twice before messing with you.

⋆ when you walk together, his hand on your back is gentle, but if he senses someone is looking at you a little too hard, his grip becomes a little firmer. it's subtle, but present. he lets you know he's there, that no one is going to get smart with you because he's ready to set boundaries.

⋆ he's always tender, he's always sweet…. but there are moments when you realize that he also has another side to him, his sassy side. and that side is the one that leaves you breathless.

maybe it's the way he stares at you without looking away, with a confidence that makes you feel nervous. or when he lets out a low chuckle and says something in a deeper tone than normal, almost like a whisper near your ear.

“why are you being like this? i'm not doing anything…” he tells you with a mischievous smile, though you both know he's playing with you.

⋆ and then there are his kisses. anton normally kisses tenderly, calmly… but when that 1% appears, his kisses become different. more intense, deeper, as if he wants to make it clear how much he wants you. His way of holding you changes, it's no longer just gentleness; he holds you more firmly, he pulls you to him without giving you room to escape. his breathing gets heavier, his skin gets hotter and his voice gets huskier.

“you don't know what you do to me…” he whispers between kisses, his forehead resting against yours.

⋆ is it because he's an aries man? definitely! anton is pure fire. aries is a sign of passion, of intensity, of strong emotions. his love is pure and genuine, but when it comes to expressing desire, he doesn't pull any punches. he can be the most tender in the world, but when he gets carried away… you should get ready.

i'm so in love with him 😭🤲🏻💗💗💗

[loveemagicpeace]

Astro Notes⭐️🍒🍋

Aries woman and Capricorn man. Aries brings a lot of fun, liveliness to Capricorn's life. Capricorn is serious and doesn't like to have too much fun, preferring stability and building. He is careful in decisions and doesn't like to be distracted, while Aries is bold and likes unpredictable things.

Cancer woman and Capricorn man. Both are focused on security, building and living together. They are very good at finances. However, they are different in their emotional needs. Cancer needs more emotion and tenderness, while Capricorn can sometimes be too focused on themselves and their goals. Many times, Cancer is the one who ends up separating from Capricorn.

Leo woman and Leo man. I have noticed many times that neither of them wants to give in and always be right. They find it difficult to admit defeat and both insist on their own opinion and point of view. Sometimes they can find themselves in a chaotic environment. They need to find harmony and balance. Not a bad couple, but there are a lot of unpredictability present.

Leo woman and Sagittarius man. They both have a lot of excitement together and there is a lot of passion between them. The honeymoon lasts much longer than with other couples. Leo is very supportive of his goals and Leo can achieve many of them. However, together they can quickly spend money on travel, entertainment, and fashion boutiques. 

Virgo woman and Scorpio man. They are very different in many ways. The woman doesn't like his over-the-top intensity and the Scorpio doesn't like her being so meticulous. At first, you'll probably find a lot of things you don't like about each other. But that can change over time as you get to know each other better. You both like possessions and material things.

Sagittarius woman and Scorpio man. Sagittarius woman is full of charm and quickly captivates Scorpio. She likes fun and games, while Scorpio wants to get straight to the point. They both love adventures. Sagittarius woman can sometimes be more playful and not so quick to fully commit, while Scorpio can be possessive and wants to have her all to himself.

Taurus woman and Aquarius man. There can sometimes be too much stubborn energy here. Taurus is angry and can quickly take offense when something is not quite her way. Aquarius, on the other hand, can sometimes be too cold. There can be many arguments. Aquarius sometimes wants to escape from responsibility.

Libra woman and Taurus man. They are both very devoted in love. Both love beauty, harmony and can also spend a lot together. Libra could feel very visible with Taurus. Taurus gives her tenderness and pampers her at the same time. 

People with 9th house placements usually speak more than one language and can move to a country where they stay for a long time. They need constant activity and like to do things that are fun. They don't like to stay in one place for a long time. Many times they may also feel that the home they live in is not meant for them. They feel much more connected to abroad.

Venus that does not have aspects in a person's chart can indicate that the person does not have much contact with love, they can be very frivolous. But at the same time they have a very different way of seeing and giving love, they can also give too much. The sign in which Venus is strongly influenced. For ex.: venus in capricorn- means that the person has a very strict, reserved and suspicious approach to love. Capricorn characteristics will be much more noticeable in love and the relationships that the person will have.

Scorpio mercury people will make decisions long before they share them with others. They do everything very tactically and thoughtfully, they know in advance what they will do and how they will react. When they look deep enough into a person, they become aware of their thoughts and quickly determine if the person is telling the truth. 

Capricorn rising is actually a very thoughtful sign and when they decide something, it is usually a final decision. They always stand behind what they decide or say. They can cling to people for a long time, especially when they love someone very much. But when they see that the person doesn't return the favor or doesn't see their effort, they will leave the person. Here's the trick: you can love someone very much but you will always put yourself first, no matter how much things hurt you, you are ready to end it with someone.

Capricorn Venus are often rejected in love, deceived, abandoned. That's why they are afraid to fall in love and give love to someone, because they are afraid that their love will be taken away again. They come forward very serious and sometimes a bit pessimistic, but in reality all they want is love and someone who will stay.

Pisces Sun are possessive, romantic, and know how to put themselves in other people's shoes. They are very compassionate. They feel other people's pain, which is unrealistic. They are so attuned to people that they take on not only their feelings and moods, but also their physical pain. Individuals are extremely wise people. They are also adaptable. Many go through hell and high water, but adapt. They often take on the charms of the people they were with last. The Sun in Pisces gives the individual an artistic and poetic nature and a rich imagination. They often have difficulty expressing themselves.

When Saturn passes through a house in which there are no planets, it is more or less inactive. Therefore, one should pay attention to the period from new moon to new moon, if there is a conjunction with it. If it is new, this begins an active period with new phenomena. During the period of the full moon, something that has been predicted for a long time often happens. If a solar or lunar eclipse falls on Saturn in the natal chart, when the Sun or Moon passes and will be in opposition or in square to the degree where the eclipse is. This date will indicate when there will be a repetition of the event that occurred at the eclipse. Often something similar happens then.

The year in which Saturn changes direction in the natal chart (or goes retrograde after going direct or vice versa) usually marks the death of an important older person in a person's life.

Uranus is a planet that is unpredictable because it always brings sudden and unexpected events. These events deviate from the normal in some extraordinary way. Things come to a standstill. Uranus causes things to go wrong, or turns things around in a way that goes against the normal plan.

Sun and Uranus: This is the most important aspect with Uranus, whether it is a conjunction or a square, a trine or whatever. This aspect means that it tends to bring the astrologer great success and people will accept him as an Expert whether he is or not. People will believe this person. He will become an authoritative figure. He will have the ability to change human destinies with this insight.

Any relationship between Neptune and Uranus is extremely favorable. Conjunction, square, and opposition are better than trine and sextile because they force energy to be poured into the nebula of Neptune and make it more concrete. Trine and sextile are not so positive because they do not hold or demand energy from Neptune, so their influence becomes distant and less concrete.

The Sun in the chart represents that person and his/her individuality. The Sun sign is that person for the rest of his/her life. The original Sun sign remains throughout life, but it is rounded, expanded, developed and changed as the Sun sign progresses. In whatever house the Sun is, this shows where that person shines best. The house in which the Sun is, shows in which area of ​​life he/she must express himself/herself.

Usually you meet the people who are meant to be in your life at least a year before your Saturn return. People you meet during Saturn return are usually karmic and just teach you lessons and through them you can learn something about yourself. The partner you meet during this time can be karmic. The partner you meet before this can be an important part of your life. 

-Rebekah🧜🏻‍♀️

[dmitriene]

cw: smut at the end, age gap if you squint, di leon appearance.

mechanic leon scott kennedy, a man well known in the area for his wretched past, as well as the fact that he chose a more comfortable and tranquil lifestyle over becoming an agent many had anticipated him to be, preffering to spend the majority of his time undercarriage, tinkering with broken, unfortunate pieces of iron, cars, motorcycles, and trucks, getting covered in layers of machine oil and grease.

years of military service did him good, even though he is no longer so young, brown hair has darkened and grown out in messy layers, his round, ruddy face has become sharper than a knife, sporting a rough, silvering stubble that gives him a certain charm, he still maintains excellent physical condition and good control over his body, shoulders are broad, tapering down to large, beefy biceps, body is chiseled, displaying every muscle to ogle over, the ribbed tank tops he tipically wears doing well at properly highlighting all contours of his body, fair skin reflecting the intense sun, pale painting of scars that criscross over the arms catch the sunlight.

the thing is, leon is quite aware of his looks and how women react to him, more often than not, without concealing his own qenuine interests beneath a facade of coy smiles and sidelong, appreciative gazes, he's just a man, after all, so he enjoys his modest popularity without compunction, and when you pull up to his workshop with a smoking hood and eyes full of desperate panic, he greets you with a cautious smile and a soft reassurance on his lips, stretched into a smile that balances on a sharp fanged grin, which diverts your attention from the squint of his blue, all consuming eyes, not letting you see the almost perverted excitement there.

your eyes are rounded and nearly shiny like polished glass as tears well up in them, this is a brand new car, and it's unexpected and sudden breakdown cannot but frighten, because the price was big, and the repair itself can end up costing a pretty penny, and you've saved up so hard for it, but all your panicked, nearly choking speech can't help but amuse him just a little, poor, sweet thing you are, so stressed up over an issue he can repair in less than a day, yet he has to confess, leon enjoys being able to soothe you and convince you that everything is good, he won't charge you too much, and you shouldn't worry about the vehicle to the point of crying, just trust him and watch him work.

leon doesn't work for the money, but for the pleasure he derives from seeing young, sweet girls like you entangled in his weight, clothes ripped apart to expose their tender skin, bruised from passionate kisses, throat raspy from pitched keens as he dives down to press his nose into a spot that makes them pull at his hair and legs spread wider, cunt oozing and pulsing, pressed against his eagerly devouring mouth, and when he glances to the side to check where your gaze is wandering, he is not surprised to meet your wide eyed gaze tracing over his flexing muscles, the curve of his hip as he shifts his weight to one leg, rolling his broad shoulders, making you turn away, charmingly embarrassed, and he is not at all surprised, actually quite pleased, to see your thighs clench.

you weren't supposed to end up in your own car, pressed against your own seat, with your legs dangling over leon's shoulders, muscles flexing beneath with the time your toes curl, each jagged exhale turning into a reedy, gasping moan, panting, keening in a quick, capturing kisses he presses against your wide open, round shaped lips, cunt fluttering spread around the sheer girth of his cock, long and throbbing, dissapearing fully into the perfectly tight, sopping heat of your pulsing, clutching hole, hips snapping to bruise, make you feel each thrust, spill down your little whines, dazed on the sensations, head lolling back.

and if you leave his workshop all disheveled and with legs trembling, weak hands that can hardly hold the wheel beneath your fingers, restless in your seat due to the dampness in your panties from the cum that drips out of your still gaping cunt, soaking the thin fabric of your underwear, it's because his service was satisfactory, and the innocently teasing kiss that he plants on your flushed cheek, prickling the sensitive skin with his stubble, means that he will eagerly wait for you to, perhaps, visit him again.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[sharky-teeth]

top dean/bottom sam fics that perfectly exemplify why bottom sam is the best (the list got kind of super long because i'm just too passionate about this topic):

take the things you love by hathfrozen: i think everybody and their grandma knows this one but i had to include it, this is our gospel. literally changed my life.

mommy dearest by tradwifesam: if you don't like feminization, read this and see the vision.

Softly, as a morning sunrise by LaughableLament: one of my go-to authors for fun and short PWPs.

Noise Complaint by formalizing: a lesson on how to make a thousand words count!

Coast On Through by philalethia: this actually contains switching, but when i tell you it has some of the best samdean scenes ever...

Feel About the Same Most Every Day: pining that you can feel in your bones.

Like a Machine by ani_coolgirl: camboy!sam perfection.

Untouchable for Life by Sintari: another one for my camboy!sam enthusiasts.

Undertow by Molly: starts out angsty and ends with psychic sex vibes, what's not to love?

Birthday Boy by DickBaggins: sam's ass is dean's birthday present, need i say more?

Keeping it Clean by themegalosaurus: swesson filth <3

this thing, for which we break by orbiting_saturn: intense and intimate, as PWP as it comes.

Sweltering by WhoopsOK: brothers with benefits done right. slutty sam as a treat!

weecest:

With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi: in my top 5 weecest of all time, which is saying something because the competition is crazy.

Bulletproof by road_rhythm: gunplay! incredible characterization, if you have a kink for guilty dean who's unable to stop himself, and pushy sammy, this is the one.

Heart of Worms by Ninni: very moody, and beautifully written.

Petulant by formalizing: another short read that hits all the right spots and leaves you wanting more.

and all is right in Dean's world by ladygizarme: loved dean's characterization here, he left me feeling unsettled.

for those like me who need some jokes with your p*rn:

The Koala Conundrum by De_Nugis: (mentions of switching) to this day, one of the most unique & refreshing stories i've read, an absolute masterpiece.

the one with aphrodisiac: this one managed to be hilarious and hot in equal measure, an amazing feat.

Incidentally, It Was Christmas by ani_coolgirl: one of my favorite fics of the year! ani's humor is impeccable! if you also believe in the sam-sexual dean truth, this is a must read.

Tongue-Tied by ADeedWithoutaName: cursed!dean unable to speak, and sam speaking for both of them, you know where this goes...

Dicks in a Box by fictionallemons: buried alive and how do sam and dean decide to spend their time? it ain't cuddling!

Versatile, Tender and Delicious by themegalosaurus: improper use of a zucchini. read and find out.

for my omega sam lovers:

Five Weeks & its sequel Three Weeks Too Late by rei_c: probably my favorite wincest a/b/o of all time! i could've read 100k of this universe, loved the details put into it.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey: this is also a favorite! i remember the tension in this fic had me dizzy. this author has an incredible way with descriptions, vivid and unique writing style.

Phantom Pain by hellhoundsprey: weecest! love their dynamic here so much, great blending of a/b/o traits while keeping them in character.

Clover by hellhoundsprey: perfectly done late seasons getting together! with the right amount of schmoop. clearly this author is very dear to me lol

know the feeling by sammyatstanford: this is the longest work in this list, around 40k words, and so worth it! really enjoyed the worldbuilding.

now to my favorite flavor (bottom sam with a side of delicious angst):

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red: [non-con] not for everyone, but definitely for me. if you love samdean at odds and suffering, this will push all the right buttons. life-changing fic.

Is It Tomorrow (Or Just the End of Time) by elsi: the angst here is so glorious. from beginning to end it's angst, angst, then more angst. there is no resolution to their issues, and i love that.

Collision Course by lovetincture: one of the most believable first time stories i've read, spot on characterization and raw descriptions. didn't shy away from the ugly side of incest.

You can run away with me any time you want by Trojie: sam leaving for stanford fic! oh this one hurts like a motherfucker. there's a line in here that's so beautiful, it lives in my brain.

his skin barely keeping him inside by hathfrozen: another banger by hathfrozen, i have a weak spot for first time in a long time stories.

No such thing as Forgiveness by hellhoundsprey: lawyer!sam getting his life sent off track when big brother comes back to the picture... the unhealthy dynamic here is to die for.

Blood sacrifice sex magic type of thing by Goshen: sam performing ritual sex to cure his demon brother... as he should.

Worship Not These False Idols by killabeez: ruby fucking sam while pretending to be dean. as amazing as it sounds.

Circles of Light by WhoopsOK: there is a "Magical Healing Ass" tag. enough said

end of list! i tried to only include works with less than 10k hits here, so someone might find something they haven't read before. i didn't include warnings, so definitely check out the tags first. all these fics are seriously amazing, i hope more people will read these gems <3

[dreamersworldduh]

ALL YOURS 

• DEREK HALE x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Derek's love for you is fierce, unrelenting, and deeply passionate, even when his heat takes control. While his primal instincts may amplify his need for you, his love and care remain constant. In these moments, you see every side of him—the lover, the protector, the alpha, and the vulnerable man who trusts you completely. His passion burns with intensity, but it's rooted in tenderness and trust, making you his anchor and the one he loves unconditionally. Despite his raw, wild instincts, Derek's love always shines through, grounding both of you in an unbreakable bond.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 11.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Hi! Just wanted to say the lack of Derek Hale fics is criminal, the man is so goddamn fineeee and such an fucking alpha…ughhhh. Anywho —happy reading😉✨

Being the boyfriend of Derek Hale is anything but simple—it's a challenge, a test of patience, loyalty, and resilience. Derek isn't just your average guy; he's a brooding, fiercely protective werewolf with a past heavy enough to weigh down even the strongest of hearts. Being with him means you've faced your fair share of danger, heartbreak, and intense moments that have pushed you to your limits, both emotionally and physically. It's not just about enduring the supernatural chaos that seems to follow him like a shadow; it's also about navigating his deeply rooted possessive instincts—a part of him that can be as intimidating as it is endearing.

Derek's possessiveness isn't something to be taken lightly. It's a primal, instinctive part of him, born from years of loss and betrayal, making him hyperaware of anything that threatens his loved ones. You've seen that fiery gleam in his eyes when someone so much as looks at you the wrong way or steps too close for his comfort. His protectiveness borders on territorial at times, as though his wolf senses are constantly on high alert, ensuring you're safe, no matter the cost. He's not afraid to stake his claim—not in a controlling way, but in a way that lets the world know that you are his, and no one else's.

Being with Derek means navigating these intense emotions. You've had to learn how to reassure him, to remind him that you're not going anywhere, even when his insecurities surface. It means being patient when his past haunts him, and understanding when his walls go up, knowing that beneath that tough exterior lies a heart that loves fiercely, but has been hurt too many times to count. His loyalty to you is unwavering, but it's a loyalty that demands the same in return.

And yet, despite the challenges, being Derek Hale's partner comes with its own kind of magic. His love may be intense, but it's also genuine, powerful, and raw. He loves with his entire being, protecting you as if you're the most precious thing in his world. You've endured the trials that come with loving a man like him, but you've also been rewarded with moments of vulnerability and tenderness that only you get to see—the way he softens when he looks at you, or the rare, small smile that lights up his face when he feels at peace.

Yes, being Derek Hale's boyfriend is no easy task, but it's a journey you've embraced wholeheartedly, knowing that the love he offers is as wild, untamed, and enduring as the wolf inside him.

Though there are two distinct sides to Derek's possessiveness, this moment reveals the softer, sweeter version of it—the one that makes your heart flutter and reminds you how deeply he cherishes you. It happens during a pack meeting at the newly restored Hale House, a gathering that feels more like a family dinner than a formal strategy session. The house, once a ruin, now stands tall again, filled with laughter, chatter, and the comforting scent of home. You've taken it upon yourself to help serve food to the pack members, moving gracefully around the room, offering plates and making sure everyone is settled.

Derek is at the head of the long dining table, his usual brooding demeanor softened just slightly by the warmth of the atmosphere. He watches you like a hawk as you move from one person to the next, his gaze unwavering. You can feel the weight of his attention, a mix of pride and something undeniably territorial. No one says a word about it, but the rest of the pack knows better than to comment—this is just Derek being Derek.

Finally, when everything is in place and everyone has been served, you grab a plate for yourself and look for an open seat. Before you can take a single step toward a chair, a strong hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back gently but firmly. You glance down and meet Derek's intense gaze as he tugs you closer without a word. Before you know it, he has you settled in his lap, one arm snaking around your waist to keep you in place, as if daring anyone to suggest you belong anywhere else.

"Derek," you murmur, leaning in close so only he can hear. Your tone is a mix of amusement and exasperation. "This is your meeting. You're supposed to be leading it, not—"

"I don't care," he interrupts, his voice low and gravelly, but there's a softness in his eyes that betrays the intensity of his words. His hold on you tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear he isn't letting go. "Stay here."

The pack continues their discussions, wisely ignoring the alpha's clear claim on you. You can feel his warmth radiating through his shirt, his hand resting protectively on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Despite the slight flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck, you can't help but relax against him. Derek, for all his gruffness, has a way of making you feel like the center of his world in moments like this.

You sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible."

"And you're mine," he replies, his tone quiet but filled with conviction, his lips brushing lightly against the side of your temple.

Though it's a little distracting for the rest of the pack, no one dares to question it. This softer, possessive side of Derek might be less intimidating than his fiercer moments, but it's no less powerful. It's his way of showing the world—and you—that you're not just someone he loves. You're someone he can't bear to let go of, even for a moment.

Then there's the other side of Derek's possessiveness—the version that's intense, commanding, and impossible to miss. It's the side that comes out when someone steps over a line they should've never approached in the first place. Tonight, that line is crossed while you're working your shift at the bar, doing the job you insisted on keeping despite Derek's protests.

"Let me take care of you," he's said countless times, his low, gruff voice almost pleading. But as much as you love him, you're too independent to let him shoulder your financial responsibilities. Bartending may not be glamorous, but it's your job, and you're proud of the work you do. Derek respects that—most of the time. But tonight, his patience is about to be tested.

It's a busy evening. Music hums through the air, mingling with the chatter of customers and the clinking of glasses as you pour drinks and banter with the regulars. Most of the people here know exactly who you're dating. They've seen the mark on your neck—Derek's love bite, dark and unmistakable, a territorial claim he left with purpose. The regulars don't bother you; they know better than to risk Derek Hale's wrath.

But tonight, trouble doesn't come from a regular. It comes from someone new—a man sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and watching you with a cocky smirk that instantly sets you on edge. At first, you try to brush off his attention. You're polite, professional, and quick to redirect the conversation, but he doesn't take the hint.

"Come on," he says, leaning across the bar, his voice dripping with confidence. "You can't tell me you're not single. A guy like you? Working here? Bet you get all kinds of offers."

You force a tight smile. "I'm not available," you say, your tone firm but not aggressive.

He doesn't back down. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're waiting around for some guy who isn't even here. What kind of boyfriend lets you work a place like this anyway?"

You feel a flicker of irritation, but before you can respond, the air in the room shifts. It's subtle at first—a strange hush that falls over the nearby patrons, followed by a wave of tension that seems to ripple through the bar. You don't have to look to know what's causing it. Derek is here.

You glance toward the entrance just as Derek steps through the door, his presence commanding attention even in the crowded room. He's dressed simply, but there's an edge to his movements, a barely restrained energy that makes everyone instinctively give him space. His sharp green eyes lock onto you immediately, scanning the scene and landing on the man leaning too close to your side of the bar.

Derek doesn't break stride as he approaches, his gaze narrowing. The man notices him too late, straightening up but not yet realizing the mistake he's made.

"Something wrong here?" Derek's voice is calm, low, and steady, but it carries a weight that silences the nearby conversation.

The guy tries to play it off, oblivious to the storm he's just invited. "No problem. Just talking to your... friend here."

Derek's lips twitch into a faint, humorless smirk as he steps closer, resting his hands on the bar. "He's not just my friend," Derek says, his voice dropping into a tone so cold it could freeze the room. "He's mine."

The guy blinks, clearly caught off guard but still trying to save face. "Hey, no offense. I didn't know—"

"You do now." Derek cuts him off, his gaze never leaving the man's. The unspoken threat lingers heavy in the air, and the guy shifts uncomfortably, glancing around as if searching for an escape. Derek doesn't move, doesn't need to. His sheer presence is enough to make the man mumble a quick apology before slinking away, disappearing into the crowd.

Once the intruder is gone, Derek's attention shifts to you. The tension in his jaw softens as he reaches across the bar, his large hand sliding against your wrist, pulling you closer. His eyes flick briefly to the mark on your neck as if to reassure himself it's still there.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, his tone softer now but still laced with that protective edge.

"I had it under control," you say, though the slight smirk on your lips betrays the rush of affection you feel in the moment.

Derek raises an eyebrow, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "Sure you did."

You shake your head, leaning in just enough so only he can hear you. "You know I can have claws?"

"I know, but you don't have to use them when I'm around," he replies without hesitation, his voice steady and full of conviction. It's not a declaration for the room—it's a reminder for you, a promise that no matter what, Derek will always be there to protect you, to claim you, and to remind anyone foolish enough to cross him exactly where you stand.

For better or worse, this is the other side of Derek's possessiveness—intense, overwhelming, and unapologetically fierce. It's not always easy to handle, but it's part of who he is, and part of the way he loves you with everything he has. And in moments like this, you can't help but love him just as fiercely in return.

Then there are moments of intimacy and passion—moments that remind you of just how deeply Derek Hale loves and needs you. Tonight, one of those moments begins quietly, in the safe haven of your shared bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light across the room as you sit comfortably on the bed, your back against the headboard, a book resting in your lap. It's not just any book, though—it's about being Luna to a pack.

You've never officially been given the title, but you've taken on the responsibilities in your own way. You care for Derek's pack—both the older members and the newer ones—like they're your own family. Whether it's listening to their problems, giving advice, training alongside them to sharpen their skills, or cooking meals that bring everyone together, you've seamlessly become their rock, their guiding presence. Even if Derek hasn't formally acknowledged it, the pack already sees you as their Luna, and you want to understand the role better—to be even more for them, and for Derek.

You're deep in thought as you read, turning a page when the sound of the bathroom door opening pulls your attention. You glance up just as Derek steps into the room, and for a moment, the air seems to shift. His hair is damp, water droplets still clinging to the ends and glistening under the soft light. A towel is wrapped low around his waist, leaving his broad chest and sculpted torso fully exposed, muscles flexing with every step he takes. The faint scent of his soap lingers in the air—a clean, woodsy scent that's distinctly his—and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Derek doesn't say anything at first. His piercing green eyes meet yours, and there's a flicker of something in his gaze—something raw and unspoken. It's a look that's equal parts admiration and desire, like he's seeing you for the first time all over again. You feel a blush creep up your neck, but you hold his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

"What are you reading?" he finally asks, his voice low and slightly rough, still thick from the heat of the shower. He moves closer, his bare feet silent against the floor as he stops at the edge of the bed.

You hold up the book slightly, showing him the cover. "Something about being a Luna," you reply softly, your voice steady but tinged with a hint of shyness. "I just... thought it might help. You know, since I've kind of been acting like one already."

Derek's expression softens, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, almost imperceptible smile. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your knee through the blanket you have draped over your legs. "You don't need a book to tell you how to be a Luna," he says, his tone warm and laced with pride. "You're already everything they need."

His words send a warmth through your chest, but before you can respond, he moves onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He settles beside you, leaning back on one arm as his free hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The closeness of him—the heat of his skin, the faint scent of him still lingering from his shower—makes your pulse quicken.

"You take care of everyone," Derek murmurs, his voice softer now, almost reverent. His fingers trail lightly along your jawline, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "You've made this pack stronger, more connected. And you've done the same for me."

You swallow hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze as it locks onto yours. "I just want to make things easier for you—for all of you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be someone you can depend on."

"You already are," Derek says firmly, his hand sliding down to rest against your shoulder. He leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. "You're my anchor. My strength. My Luna."

The last word comes out with a weight that makes your breath hitch. He's never said it out loud before, never made it official. But hearing it now, spoken with such conviction, sends a rush of emotions through you. Before you can respond, Derek's lips capture yours in a kiss that's both tender and demanding, pouring every ounce of his love and passion into the moment. His hand cups the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing closer to yours.

The book slips from your lap, forgotten, as you lose yourself in him. His warmth, his touch, the way he whispers your name like it's the only thing that matters—it's all-consuming. In this moment, there's no pack, no responsibilities, no worries. There's only Derek, and the unbreakable bond you share with him.

When you finally pull back, breathless, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your neck. "You don't have to prove anything," he says quietly, his voice full of sincerity. "You're already everything I need. Everything we need."

The words settle deep in your chest, filling you with a sense of belonging you didn't realize you were missing. In Derek's arms, with his love surrounding you, you realize that being his Luna isn't about titles or duties—it's about being the person who stands beside him, through everything, just as he stands beside you.

Derek can be such a lover boy when he wants to be—a side of him that's soft, affectionate, and, at times, beautifully vulnerable. It's a part of him he doesn't show to many people, but with you, he lets down his walls, revealing the man behind the strong, stoic alpha exterior. In those moments, he's all tender touches and quiet words, the kind of man who holds you close like you're the most precious thing in his world. He's the Derek who gently brushes your hair out of your face, who kisses you like you're his lifeline, and who lets you see the raw, unguarded emotions that he keeps locked away from everyone else.

But that tenderness can shift in an instant—because when Derek feels his heat coming on, that lover boy softness is quickly replaced by something much more primal and consuming. It starts subtly at first: a faint tension in his muscles, a sharper edge to his movements, and a look in his eyes that burns with an intensity that makes your heart race. You've learned to recognize the signs, the way his breathing grows heavier, his gaze locks onto you, and his usually steady control begins to fray at the edges.

In the beginning, Derek tries to fight it. He does everything in his power to keep that vulnerability intact, to hold onto the tender way he speaks to you and the soft, reverent way he touches you. He doesn't want to lose control, doesn't want the heat to strip away the affection he shows so carefully. But his heat is a force beyond his will—a deep, primal instinct that coils inside him, pushing harder and harder until it demands release. It's not something he can suppress, and as much as he tries to resist it, it takes over, leaving him with only one overwhelming need: you.

The signs are subtle at first—his hands lingering a little longer when he touches you, his gaze trailing after you with a sharp intensity, and the way his breathing changes whenever you're near. But when his heat fully takes over, it's no longer subtle. It's raw, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore. His hands become more insistent, his grip firmer as though he's afraid you might slip through his fingers. His voice, once so soft and measured, grows rough, urgent, every word heavy with a hunger that makes it clear just how deeply he craves you.

For example, there was that one night when the house was quiet, everyone in the pack fast asleep. You were tidying up the living room, moving quietly as you folded a blanket and straightened up the mess left from the day. The only sound was the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. You didn't notice the way the air had shifted at first, the way the temperature seemed to rise just slightly. But then you felt it—the unmistakable pull of his presence.

You turned, and there he was, standing in the doorway. Derek's chest rose and fell heavily, his hair still damp from the shower he must've taken not long ago. His eyes—those piercing green eyes—were locked on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was something different about him, something primal and wild simmering just beneath the surface. His muscles were tense, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he was fighting to hold himself back.

"Derek?" you asked softly, your voice breaking the heavy silence. You set the blanket down, instinctively stepping toward him, but as soon as you moved, he was already closing the distance between you.

"I can't—" His voice was rough, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands came up, gripping your arms gently but firmly, his touch burning hot against your skin. "I can't wait anymore."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling slightly as he fought to maintain even a shred of control. "I've been trying," he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "I've been trying to hold back, to give you space. But I can't—I need you now."

His words hit you like a wave, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in his body coiled so tightly it felt like it might snap. Derek's vulnerability was still there, flickering in the way his hands shook slightly as they slid down your arms, but it was swallowed up by the primal need overtaking him. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he inhaled deeply, his grip tightening as though grounding himself in your presence.

"Tell me you're mine," he rasped, his voice thick with urgency, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Please."

You could feel his desperation, the way his entire being seemed to hinge on your response. And in that moment, with his heat burning between you and his love for you so evident in every touch, you realized just how much Derek needed you—not just physically, but emotionally, completely. You were his anchor, his safe harbor in the storm of his heat, and you would give him everything he needed.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to meet your gaze. "I'm yours, Derek," you said firmly, your voice steady even as your heart pounded.

The words seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. With a low growl, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss so fierce and consuming it left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, his touch firm and possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection that bound you together.

In that moment, there was no room for hesitation, no space for doubt. Derek's heat had taken over, but it wasn't just instinct—it was his love for you, raw and unfiltered, driving every touch, every kiss, every whispered word. And you gave yourself to him completely, knowing that this was what he needed, and that you would always be there to hold him through it all.

Without a word, his strong arms wrap securely around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet as though you weigh nothing. The sheer strength in his embrace sends a shiver through you, your hands instinctively finding their place on his broad shoulders for balance. His body radiates warmth, the tension in his muscles palpable as he carries you across the room with purpose.

He reaches the couch in just a few steps and lowers himself into it, pulling you down with him. His firm grip never falters, guiding you to straddle his lap with ease. The position is intimate, your knees bracketing his hips as your bodies align perfectly. You can feel the solid expanse of his chest pressing against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you even as your pulse quickens.

Derek's hands settle on your waist at first, his fingers curling slightly as they find their hold. But they don't stay there for long. His touch becomes more deliberate, sliding down to rest on your hips before moving lower, his palms finding their place on the curve of your ass. He grips you firmly, his fingers pressing into the flesh with just enough force to send a jolt of heat through you. There's no hesitation in his actions, only a possessive intensity that makes it clear he's in control of the moment.

His green eyes meet yours, and the look in them takes your breath away. It's a mix of desire, adoration, and something more primal—something that makes it impossible to look away. His hands squeeze again, a low, almost inaudible growl rumbling in his chest as he leans in closer. The movement presses you tighter against him, and the sensation leaves no doubt about how much he wants you.

"You feel perfect like this," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands don't stop moving, alternating between firm squeezes and slow, deliberate caresses, as though he's memorizing every inch of you. The way his fingers dig into your skin is possessive, grounding, and completely overwhelming all at once.

You can't help but let your hands roam as well, sliding over the strong planes of his shoulders and down his arms. Every inch of him feels solid, unyielding, and the heat between you grows with every passing second. Derek's gaze never wavers, and the intensity of his attention makes you feel like the center of his entire world.

"You're mine," he says, his voice barely more than a growl, but there's an undeniable softness beneath the possessiveness. It's not just a claim—it's a promise, one that makes your chest tighten with emotion. And with the way he's holding you, touching you, you know it's a promise he'll keep.

Derek's lips find the curve of your neck with a hunger that makes your breath hitch. His movements are deliberate yet fevered, the softness of his mouth contrasting with the growing intensity of his desire. The first kiss he presses to your skin is warm and lingering, but it quickly deepens, his lips parting to let his teeth graze against your sensitive flesh. You can feel the heat of his breath as he starts to work his way down, his focus entirely on leaving his mark on you.

The first hickey blooms under his lips as he sucks at the delicate skin just below your jawline, his hand tightening on your waist as if to keep you steady. But you're anything but steady. Your body reacts instinctively to the sensation, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his mouth continues its work. His tongue flicks over the spot he's just claimed, soothing it for a brief moment before he moves on to another area, determined to make sure everyone knows you're his.

As his kisses grow more intense, your body seems to take on a mind of its own. Without realizing it, you begin to shift in his lap, the movement subtle at first—a slight roll of your hips, a faint press of your weight against his hands. Derek notices immediately. His hands, already gripping your ass, tighten their hold, his fingers digging into the flesh as if anchoring you to him.

The friction from your movements sends a spark through both of you, and you hear Derek's breath hitch against your skin. He pulls back for just a moment, his green eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and raw desire as he looks at you. "You don't even know what you're doing to me," he growls, his voice low and rough, every word dripping with need.

But instead of stopping, your body moves again, a subconscious rhythm taking over as you grind against him. The heat between you is undeniable, and every shift of your hips fans the flames of Derek's growing need. His hands guide your movements now, pulling you closer, pressing you tighter against him. His grip is firm, almost possessive, as if he's afraid you might stop.

"You're making this impossible," he murmurs, his lips finding your neck once more. This time, his kisses are rougher, more desperate, each one leaving a deeper mark than the last. The combination of his mouth on your neck and the way his hands control your movements has you utterly overwhelmed, your mind clouded with nothing but the feel of him.

Derek groans softly against your skin, his voice filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger that only spurs you on. Every small movement, every sound you make seems to push him further, his desire for you quickly spiraling out of control. You can feel it in the way his lips move against you, the way his hands grip you like he never wants to let go, and the way his body reacts to every subtle shift of your own.

There's no hesitation, no second-guessing—just the all-consuming pull of desire, the undeniable connection between you both as Derek claims you with every touch, every kiss, every whispered growl.

Derek's hands were everywhere—firm, strong, and utterly insistent. His grip on your waist tightened as his lips found yours again, rough and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation. It wasn't long before his hands slid lower, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants and boxers. With one swift motion, he began pulling them down, exposing the bare skin of your ass to the cool air. The heat radiating off his body only made the contrast sharper, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake as his hands moved over your newly exposed flesh.

The way his palms kneaded the curve of your ass made it clear he was ready to take things further, his movements growing more urgent with every second. Derek's breathing was heavy, his lips hovering just over your jaw as he whispered, "I need you." His voice was gravelly, raw with desire, and it sent a shiver through you. You could feel just how ready he was, the evidence of his arousal pressing firmly against you as he gripped your hips and pulled you even closer.

But as much as the intensity of the moment consumed you, a sliver of reason managed to push through the haze. You glanced around the room, the familiar surroundings of the living room suddenly feeling far too exposed. You placed a hand on Derek's chest, pushing lightly to create a small bit of space between you. "Derek," you said, your voice breathless but firm. "We're in the living room."

Derek paused for the briefest of moments, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a second, you thought he might reconsider, but instead, a crooked smirk tugged at his lips. "I don't care," he replied, his tone low and filled with determination. His hands slid back to your ass, squeezing possessively as he pulled you tighter against him, his lips brushing against your neck as he added, "Let them see. Let them know you're mine."

You let out a soft groan, your resolve wavering under the intensity of his words and the heat of his touch. But still, the logical part of you persisted, refusing to let him completely ignore the reality of your surroundings. "You would care," you countered, your voice steadying, "if someone walked in and interrupted us."

That gave him pause. Derek let out a low growl, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder as his grip on you tightened. You could feel the tension in his body, the conflict between his desire and his instinct to protect you—not just from danger, but from the inevitable embarrassment of someone catching you both in such a compromising position.

After a moment, he let out a resigned sigh, his lips grazing your skin as he murmured, "Fine." His hands lingered on you for a moment longer, his thumbs brushing over your skin as if committing the sensation to memory before he finally pulled back, his eyes still dark with unfulfilled need.

Suddenly, he slid his hands to your waist and gently lifted you off his lap, setting you aside on the couch. The loss of his warmth, even for a moment, made you ache with anticipation, but your eyes stayed fixed on him, drawn to the commanding presence that always seemed to radiate from him in moments like this.

Standing tall in front of you, Derek's green eyes burned with desire, his gaze locking onto yours as his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. He tugged it upward in one smooth motion, revealing the toned expanse of his chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen, each movement accentuating the strength you knew so well. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his skin flushed slightly as the fire between you both built.

Your mouth went dry as he kicked off his shoes and reached for the waistband of his pants. The sound of the zipper echoed faintly in the room, a soft but tantalizing promise of what was to come. Derek's pants slid down his legs, and he stepped out of them with effortless grace, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. The thin fabric did little to hide the evidence of his arousal, and your heart raced at the sight.

Finally, Derek's hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, his movements slow enough to drive you mad with anticipation but fast enough to show he couldn't wait much longer. He hooked his thumbs into the fabric and pushed them down, letting the boxers fall to the floor. As he stood before you, completely bare, your eyes were instantly drawn to him—his swollen dick, thick and hard, standing proudly, a sight that never failed to captivate you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took him in, your pulse quickening as heat pooled in your stomach. Derek's body was a masterpiece, but it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—that truly stole your breath. His dick twitched slightly under your gaze, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as if he could sense just how much you loved seeing him like this.

"You like what you see?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, the deep timbre sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his as a smile of your own formed. "Every time," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

Derek stepped closer, his body radiating heat, and the intensity of his gaze made your pulse race even faster. "Good," he murmured, his tone laced with desire. "Because it's all for you."

In a matter of moments, Derek gently pulled you up from the couch to stand in front of him. His green eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger that made your knees weak. Without saying a word, his fingers slid to the hem of your shirt, tugging it upward in one smooth motion and tossing it aside. His touch was electric as his hands roamed over your exposed skin, pausing briefly at your chest before he moved lower, his gaze trailing behind every movement like a predator savoring his prey.

He crouched slightly to tug at your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with practiced ease before sliding them down your legs. The cool air of the room kissed your skin as your boxers followed, leaving you completely exposed before him. Derek stood tall again, his eyes raking over your body with a primal intensity that made your breath hitch. When his gaze landed on your hard dick, his lips parted, and a low, guttural growl escaped him—a sound so full of arousal it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Perfect," he muttered, his voice gravelly and thick with desire. His hands didn't hesitate as they found your hips again, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin just above your pelvis before sliding lower to cup your ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, a smirk tugging at his lips when you gasped at the contact.

Before you could process what was happening, Derek bent down slightly and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder with effortless ease. The sudden change in perspective made your heart race, your body pressing against his as his other hand gripped your thigh to keep you steady.

"Derek!" you exclaimed, though your voice came out breathless, a mix of surprise and excitement.

He chuckled darkly, his hand sliding down to your bare ass, giving it a sharp smack that echoed through the room. "I've been patient long enough," he growled, his voice low and dripping with need. The sting of his hand on your skin sent a jolt of heat through you, and you could feel the strength in his hold as he carried you with ease.

Each step he took toward your shared bedroom was purposeful, the sound of his bare feet against the floor muted by the thundering of your heartbeat. His grip on you was firm but possessive, and his other hand didn't stay idle. It slid along your thigh, occasionally squeezing or smacking your ass again, the sensation leaving you breathless and your arousal growing.

"Keep squirming, and I'll have to stop right here," Derek rumbled, his tone teasing but with a dangerous edge that sent a thrill through you. "And I don't think either of us wants that."

The promise in his words made your body still, though the anticipation building between you was almost unbearable. Derek's confidence, the sheer power in the way he carried you as if you were weightless, only made your desire for him burn hotter. By the time he reached the bedroom door, you were already aching for him, your body alive with anticipation for what was to come.

Derek kicked the door open with his foot, stepping inside with purpose. He lowered you just enough to brush his lips against your skin, his hot breath ghosting over your back as he whispered, "You're mine tonight." Then, with one last firm squeeze to your ass, he laid you down on the bed, his body following closely behind as his desire for you became all-consuming.

Derek's lips crashed against yours with a hunger that took your breath away. His kiss was deep, urgent, and all-consuming, as if he couldn't get enough of you. His hands cupped your face, his fingers rough yet gentle as they tilted your head slightly to deepen the connection. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his chest pressed firmly against yours, his breathing growing heavier with every second that passed.

Your hands roamed down his strong, sculpted body, your fingertips tracing the ridges of his muscles. Derek groaned softly into your mouth, his lips parting slightly as his tongue brushed against yours, igniting a fire that made your entire body hum with anticipation. The kiss was messy, desperate, and filled with all the pent-up desire he'd been holding back.

As your hand trailed lower, you felt the tension in his body shift, his muscles tensing slightly under your touch. Your fingers brushed against his length, already hard and hot, and a shudder ran through him. Derek growled low in his throat, the sound reverberating in his chest as your hand wrapped around him. The growl wasn't just a reaction—it was primal, a raw expression of his need for you.

You started to pump him slowly, your grip firm but teasing. Derek's head dropped forward, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a sharp exhale. His lips parted, his breathing growing heavier with each deliberate stroke of your hand. "You're going to drive me crazy," he murmured, his voice rough and strained, a hint of a growl still laced in his tone.

The way his body responded to your touch was intoxicating. His hips jerked slightly, instinctively chasing the friction you were providing. His hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as if he needed to ground himself, to keep from losing control entirely. Every time your hand moved, a low, guttural sound escaped him, his arousal clear in the way his body seemed to tremble under your touch.

"You know what you're doing to me," Derek growled, his voice rough and filled with barely restrained desire. His green eyes locked onto yours, darkened with lust, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. "You're not playing fair."

You smirked slightly, your strokes becoming just a little slower, more deliberate, as you watched him struggle to keep his composure. "I'm just giving you what you want," you replied, your voice soft but teasing, a playful edge to your tone.

Derek's growl deepened, his hands sliding up your sides before pulling you even closer. His lips found yours again, this time rougher, more demanding, as though trying to pour every ounce of his need for you into the kiss. The way his body responded to your touch, the way he growled and trembled beneath your hand, was utterly intoxicating. You knew he was holding back, but the raw intensity in his kisses and his touch made it clear he wouldn't be able to for much longer. And that thought sent a thrill through you that only made you want to tease him more.

Suddenly, Derek's hand gently closed around your wrist, pulling your hand away from his dick. The intense look in his green eyes made your breath hitch, a silent promise of what was to come. He leaned in, his lips finding yours once more in a kiss that was both deep and commanding, his tongue brushing against yours with a hunger that left you dizzy. Slowly, his kisses began to trail downward, his lips and tongue leaving a fiery path across your jaw, then your neck, and lower still.

Each kiss was deliberate, his mouth pausing to savor the curve of your collarbone, the plane of your chest, and the dip of your stomach. His hands followed the journey, strong and sure as they mapped out your body, leaving no inch untouched. By the time he reached the edge of your hips, your pulse was racing, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Derek smirked against your skin, the heat of his breath a tantalizing tease as his hands gripped your thighs.

He looked up at you then, his gaze dark and filled with unrestrained desire. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hands beneath your legs, lifting them effortlessly over his broad shoulders. The way he held you—strong, steady, and completely in control—sent a wave of anticipation coursing through you. Before you could say anything, you felt it: the first brush of his tongue, warm and wet, as it trailed along your hole.

A soft moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as the sensation overtook you. Derek growled low in response, the vibration against your skin only adding to the pleasure. His tongue worked with expert precision, circling, teasing, and pressing in ways that left you gripping the sheets beneath you. The heat of his mouth, combined with the pressure of his hands gripping your thighs, was overwhelming in the best way.

Your hands found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you held onto him for dear life. The small, involuntary tug you gave earned another growl from Derek, his lips curling into a smirk against your most sensitive skin. He didn't stop—if anything, he doubled down, his tongue moving more insistently as he sought every sound he could pull from you.

"Derek," you gasped, your voice trembling as your back arched slightly, pressing yourself closer to his mouth. The combination of his tongue and the strength of his hands holding you in place left you completely at his mercy. Each flick, each press of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, your entire body alight with sensation.

He paused just long enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, a smirk playing on his face. "I love the way you sound," he murmured, his voice rough with arousal before he dove back in, his tongue exploring you with even more intensity. The way his stubble brushed against your skin only heightened the sensation, the mix of roughness and warmth sending you spiraling.

Your grip on his hair tightened, a soft gasp escaping you as he found just the right rhythm. Derek's growls vibrated against you, letting you know just how much he enjoyed tasting you, savoring every moment. Time seemed to blur as he continued, his sole focus on your pleasure, making it impossible to think of anything else but the way his mouth felt against you. Every kiss, every stroke of his tongue was a reminder of just how much Derek wanted you, needed you, and was willing to worship every part of you.

When your hole was glistening and wet from Derek's relentless attention, he finally pulled back, his lips and chin slick as he looked up at you with a mix of hunger and satisfaction. His hands gently squeezed your thighs, his touch grounding as he took a moment to drink in the sight of you—flushed, breathless, and completely undone beneath him.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, the words dripping with sincerity and raw desire. His hands shifted, one sliding up to caress your hip while the other found his own dick, thick and pulsing with need. Slowly, he stroked himself, his eyes never leaving yours, the sight of you clearly spurring him on.

Derek positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his swollen dick brushing against your slick hole. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your breath hitched as you felt the heat of him press against your sensitive skin. He moved deliberately, sliding his length along your hole, teasing you with the friction. Each slow, deliberate stroke left you gasping, your body instinctively shifting to chase the sensation.

"Derek," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands reached out to grip his broad shoulders. He smirked slightly at your reaction, the faintest curve of his lips a sign of his confidence, his control.

"Patience," he said, his voice rough yet soothing, his free hand sliding up to intertwine with yours. "I want to feel every second of this."

Finally, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his dick pressing just slightly inside. His green eyes met yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, but all he saw was your trust, your desire for him. With a steady hand, he began to push forward, his hips moving slowly, giving you time to adjust as he stretched you inch by inch. The sensation was intense, a delicious mix of pressure and pleasure that left you gripping his shoulders tighter.

Derek let out a low groan, his voice deep and guttural, as he sank further into you. "You feel so good," he murmured, his words shaky as his control wavered. His hands returned to your hips, gripping you firmly as he continued his slow, deliberate pace, every movement sending waves of heat coursing through your body.

Your body arched beneath him, your breath hitching as he filled you completely. The stretch was intense, but the way Derek moved—steady, patient, and utterly focused on your comfort—made it impossible to feel anything but pleasure. He paused for a moment when he was fully seated inside you, his chest heaving as he gave you a chance to adjust, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his concern shining through the haze of his desire.

You nodded, your hands sliding up to cup his face, your lips brushing against his. "I'm perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with both reassurance and longing. "Please, Derek. I need you."

Hearing those words seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. Derek's hips began to move again, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust pushing deeper, making you feel every inch of him. His hands held you firmly, guiding your body against his as he set a rhythm that quickly had you melting beneath him. Every movement, every touch, every breath between you was filled with passion, a connection so deep it left you utterly consumed by him.

Then his strong hands moved to guide your legs, lifting them effortlessly and wrapping them around his waist. The new position brought him even closer, allowing him to sink deeper into you with every movement, making your breath hitch with each thrust. His body radiated heat, his skin damp with exertion, and the steady grind of his hips made it clear he was completely consumed by you.

Leaning forward, Derek brought his face closer to yours, his green eyes darkened with lust but softened by the depth of emotion they held. His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that matched the rhythm of his body. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, and you opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his damp hair as you pulled him closer. The kiss was intense, raw, yet there was a tenderness to it—a reminder that even in this moment of unrelenting desire, Derek was still yours, and you were his.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles trembled slightly as he worked to hold back the primal instincts simmering just beneath the surface. Derek's heat was there, smoldering like an untamed wildfire, and every thrust, every growl rumbling in his chest, hinted at how much he was restraining himself. He wanted to lose himself in you, to let his heat take over completely, but he fought to maintain control, to ensure your pleasure and comfort came first.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and strained, a testament to just how much effort he was putting into holding back. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as his thrusts continued at the same steady pace, each one deliberate and measured. "I'm trying," he added, his voice breaking slightly, a growl slipping out as his hands gripped your hips tighter. "I don't want to hurt you."

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against his stubbled jaw as you gazed up at him. "Derek," you said softly, your voice trembling but steady, "I trust you. I'm here. Let go."

His eyes searched yours, his resolve flickering for a moment before he groaned, his lips claiming yours again in a kiss so fierce it made your heart race. His grip on your hips tightened, and his movements became just a fraction deeper, more purposeful, though still careful not to overwhelm you. The simmering heat inside him was building, and you could feel the tension rising with every thrust, every breathless kiss.

Derek held back, but barely. The restraint in his movements was palpable, his body vibrating with the effort it took to stay in control. Yet, through it all, his focus remained on you—your reactions, your pleasure, the soft moans and gasps he pulled from your lips as he pushed you closer to the edge. And in that moment, you knew that even as his heat threatened to consume him, Derek would never let it burn you. Instead, he would use every ounce of his strength to channel it into something passionate, raw, and undeniably yours.

You sat up slowly, the movement making Derek's breath hitch as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His eyes met yours, dark with desire and barely restrained passion, as your lips found his in a kiss that was hungry, deep, and filled with the raw emotion simmering between you. The warmth of his skin pressed against yours, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady you as you moved.

Your body pressed against his chest, your heart pounding as you began to lift yourself, only to sink back down onto his length. The sensation drew a low growl from Derek's throat, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements, his strength supporting you effortlessly. Each time you moved, a wave of pleasure rippled through both of you, the rhythm you created together growing steadily more intense.

Derek's lips moved with yours, his kisses desperate and consuming, as though he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue brushed against yours, his breath hot and ragged as you continued to rock up and down his length, taking him fully with every motion. The feeling of him filling you completely sent shivers down your spine, and the sounds escaping both of you only added to the fire between you.

"Ugh," Derek murmured against your lips, his voice rough and low, a tremor of restraint still present beneath the overwhelming desire in his tone. His hands slid down your back, gripping you more firmly, his fingertips digging into your skin as he fought to maintain his control.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his, your fingers tangling in his hair as you looked into his eyes. "Derek," you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. "I want you—completely. Don't hold back."

His eyes searched yours for a moment, the conflict in his expression clear. But as you moved again, your body pressing against him and taking him deeper, the last threads of his restraint began to fray. A deep, guttural growl escaped his chest as his grip on you tightened, his hands guiding your movements with more insistence.

The words, "Don't hold back," was all Derek needed to finally let go. His body stilled for just a moment, his chest rising and falling as he processed what you'd said, the last remnants of his restraint hanging by a thread. Then, like a dam breaking, something primal and unstoppable surged forward. His eyes snapped open, glowing a brilliant, fiery red—a vivid sign that his heat had fully taken over. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver through you, but it wasn't fear you felt. It was exhilaration, knowing he trusted you enough to let his instincts take control.

With a low, guttural growl that reverberated through the room, Derek's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive force that left no doubt: you were his. His thrusts increased, the steady pace giving way to something far more raw, more urgent. Each powerful motion sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, your body arching to meet him as he moved with an almost unstoppable intensity.

"God, you're mine," he growled, his voice rough and deep, a mix of desire and possession. The words sent a thrill through you, and you tightened your hold around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him as his thrusts drove deeper, faster. The heat radiating off his body felt like it might consume you, the primal energy pouring out of him filling the room as his focus remained entirely on you.

His glowing red eyes never left yours, even as his lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. Each kiss felt like a brand, a mark of his uncontrollable need for you. The mix of his rough, animalistic growls and the whispered praises against your skin left you trembling in his arms, completely lost in the storm of his heat.

"You feel so damn good," Derek muttered, his voice breaking slightly as his pace continued to build. His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your back, pulling you flush against his chest as if he couldn't get you close enough. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your moans mingling with his growls as he pushed you both closer to the edge.

Every thrust, every motion, every sound Derek made was a testament to how much he'd been holding back, and now that he'd given in, there was no stopping him. His heat had fully taken over, his need for you driving him to claim you in every possible way. And as the overwhelming sensations built to a crescendo, you realized there was nothing else in the world but this—Derek, his love, his heat, and the unshakable bond between you.

Soon Derek's thrusts became relentless, his dick driving into you with a force and precision that sent shockwaves through your entire body. Each motion was deep, powerful, and perfectly aimed, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with the accuracy of someone who knew your body intimately. It was overwhelming, the way he moved—like every thrust was deliberate, designed to claim you completely and leave you trembling in his grasp.

Your hands clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the hard muscles as he kept up his intense rhythm. Derek's growls filled the air, low and primal, reverberating through your chest as he poured every ounce of his strength and need into you. His glowing red eyes bore into yours, the fiery gaze a reminder of the heat driving him, the primal instincts that he had finally let loose.

"Derek," you gasped, your voice breaking as another perfectly angled thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you. The way he moved felt almost otherworldly, each motion deliberate yet raw, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. It was like he was determined in his mission to push you further, to make sure you felt every inch of him.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, "Every part of you belongs to me." His voice was rough, strained, but filled with conviction, his words punctuated by the unyielding rhythm of his hips. The sheer dominance in his tone, paired with the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, sent shivers racing down your spine.

Your body reacted instinctively, arching into him as your legs tightened around his waist. Derek's hands gripped your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive force as he adjusted his angle slightly, making each thrust even more devastatingly precise. The sensation was almost too much, a perfect mix of intensity and pleasure that left you gasping for air.

Derek was completely lost in you, the heat of his need driving him to claim you fully, completely. And with each thrust, each powerful motion, it felt like he was branding himself into your very soul, making sure you'd never forget exactly who you belonged to.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, building higher and higher until you couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled gasp, your body tensed, and a rush of ecstasy surged through you. Your release came in powerful waves, your dick pulsing as streams of cum spilled between your bodies, coating your stomach and his. The intensity of it left you trembling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

But Derek didn't stop. If anything, the sight and feel of your climax seemed to fuel him further, a growl rumbling deep in his chest as he maintained his relentless pace. His glowing red eyes locked onto yours, the raw hunger in them making it clear that your pleasure had only pushed him closer to the edge of his control.

"You think we're done?" Derek murmured, his voice rough and dripping with desire. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips thrust deeper, harder, drawing out every ounce of sensitivity from your overstimulated body. "I'm not stopping until I've had all of you."

The overstimulation sent sparks of sensation through your nerves, your body jerking slightly at the relentless friction. Every thrust was a mix of pleasure and intensity that bordered on too much, yet you couldn't bring yourself to tell him to stop. The way he filled you, the way his hands gripped your hips to pull you tighter against him, left you utterly helpless under his control.

"Derek," you moaned, your voice trembling as your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The combination of your own sensitivity and his unwavering pace was overwhelming, leaving you caught in a haze of pleasure that felt like it might consume you entirely.

He growled low, a sound so primal it made your toes curl, and his lips found your neck, biting and sucking at your skin as he thrust into you with a ferocity that left you breathless. "I'm not done with you yet," he rumbled, his tone possessive, his movements a clear reminder that he wasn't holding anything back anymore.

Even as your body trembled from the overstimulation, you couldn't deny the heat building again deep inside you. Derek's intensity was undeniable, his need for you all-consuming, and the way he moved made it clear he wouldn't stop until you were completely undone beneath him—again and again.

Suddenly, Derek's movements grew even more primal, his glowing red eyes blazing with unrestrained heat. With a growl that vibrated deep in his chest, he pulled out of you briefly, he gripped your thighs as he stood up effortlessly, lifting you with him. The next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the cool surface of the nearest wall, the sharp contrast of heat and cold sending a shiver through your already sensitive body.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as Derek held you there, his strength making it seem like you weighed nothing. One of his hands braced against the wall beside your head, while the other gripped your thigh tightly, keeping you secure as he aligned himself once more. Without hesitation, he thrust back into you, the sudden fullness pulling a loud, uncontrollable moan from your lips.

The new angle made every movement more intense, Derek's hips snapping against you with a force that left you gasping for air. Each thrust drove you harder against the wall, your body pinned completely under his control. His growls filled the room, low and guttural, as he poured every ounce of his heat-fueled need into you.

"I can't get enough of you," Derek muttered, his voice rough and breathless. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. "I can't stop—I don't want to stop."

The intensity of his words, combined with the unrelenting rhythm of his hips, sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body. Your hands tangled in his hair, your fingers gripping tightly as you pulled him closer, capturing his lips in a desperate, heated kiss. His tongue tangled with yours as his thrusts became harder, faster, each one leaving you trembling in his arms.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, mingling with the labored breaths and groans that escaped both of you. Derek's hand slid from your thigh to grip your ass, pulling you closer to him as his hips drove even deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur. The wall behind you groaned slightly under the force of his movements, but Derek didn't seem to care—his focus was entirely on you, on the way your body responded to his.

"Fuck," he growled against your lips, his voice dripping with possession as his thrusts became almost brutal in their intensity. His heat burned through him, his need for you all-consuming, and he was determined to claim every part of you, to make sure you felt just how much he wanted you.

Every movement, every growl, every heated kiss pushed you closer to the edge again, your body completely overwhelmed by the force of Derek's passion. Pinned against the wall, utterly at his mercy, you surrendered to him completely, knowing he wouldn't stop until you were both completely undone.

With one final, deep thrust, Derek's body tensed against yours, his growl reverberating through the room as he reached his peak. You felt the warmth of his release flood into you, the heat of it spreading through your body like wildfire. His hands gripped you tightly, almost possessively, his nails pressing into your skin as he held you flush against him, refusing to let even an inch of space separate you.

The tension in his body slowly began to ebb as his growls softened into heavy, ragged breaths. Derek's forehead rested against yours for a moment, his chest heaving against yours as the remnants of his heat coursed through him. His lips found yours instantly, the kiss a mix of passion and tenderness, as if he needed to ground himself in you after the intensity of what you'd shared.

The desperation in his kisses began to fade, replaced by something gentler, more intimate. His hands slid up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he deepened the kiss, his body still trembling slightly against yours. It was as if he was pouring every ounce of affection and gratitude into that moment, letting you know without words how much he loved and needed you.

Gradually, as the heat left his system, the fiery red glow in his eyes began to fade. You watched as they softened, returning to the familiar, piercing green you loved so much. His gaze met yours, the intensity in his eyes replaced by a look of pure adoration and vulnerability. The primal edge of his heat had given way to the man you knew—the Derek who cherished you with every fiber of his being.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse from the growls and moans of moments before. His forehead pressed gently to yours, his hands cradling your face as he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

You smiled, your fingers brushing through his damp hair as you leaned into his touch. "I'm more than okay," you replied, your voice steady and filled with warmth. "That was... everything."

A faint, almost sheepish smile tugged at Derek's lips, his eyes flicking between yours. "I didn't hurt you?" he asked again, his tone softer now, the protective side of him surfacing even after everything.

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and reassuring. "You were perfect, Derek."

Relief washed over his features, and he let out a soft breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. He held you there for a long moment, his heart beating steadily against yours as his body finally relaxed completely. Even as the intensity of his heat faded, his love for you burned just as brightly, evident in the way he held you as if you were his entire world.

Derek's love for you shines through, even in the midst of his heat—a love so deep and unwavering that no primal instinct could ever overshadow it. When his heat takes control, his movements may be raw, his growls guttural, and his need overwhelming, but beneath it all, it's still him. It's still the man who cherishes you with every fiber of his being, who would do anything to protect you, and who trusts you enough to let you see him at his most vulnerable.

It's in those moments that you see Derek completely unguarded, stripped of all the walls he's built to shield himself from the pain of his past. You see the man who loves you fiercely and unapologetically, who worships every inch of you with an intensity that feels like it could consume the air around you. His heat amplifies that love, turning it into a force that's almost too powerful to contain, but even as his instincts drive him, he never loses sight of you—your needs, your comfort, your pleasure.

Each touch, each kiss, each growl is filled with unspoken promises: that you are his, that he will always protect you, and that no matter what, he will never let anything harm you. It's a love that feels almost untamed, wild and primal, yet at the same time, it's rooted in tenderness and trust. Even in his most unrestrained moments, Derek never forgets who you are to him—the one person who sees every side of him and loves him for all of it.

And in those moments, you see all the pieces that make Derek who he is. The lover, whose touch can be both gentle and possessive, worshiping you as if you're the only thing that matters in his world. The protector, whose instincts drive him to keep you safe at all costs, even from his own untamed power. The alpha, strong and commanding, yet willing to yield to you in ways he never would for anyone else. And finally, the man—the one who belongs to you as much as you belong to him, the one who lets himself be vulnerable and open because he trusts you with all that he is.

Derek's passion may burn hot enough to scorch everything in its path, but with you, it's never destructive. It's a love that warms you, strengthens you, and reminds you that no matter what happens, you are his anchor, his solace, and the one person he'll always come back to. And as he holds you close, as his red eyes fade back to green and his heat slowly ebbs away, you know without a doubt that his love for you will always burn brighter than anything else.

[goreandbunnies]

❝ 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛!𝚂𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺

Inspired by @sweetlandspos ‘s fanart ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Dealer!Sukuna who locks the door the second he walks in his bedroom. He doesn’t want anyone to interrupt. He finally got you to himself, he’s not letting anyone ruin this moment. 

The only sources of light in his bedroom come from red lava lamps and his computer screen playing softer music in the background. Much better than the noise downstairs. 

You don’t really care about it at the moment. Because once the door is locked and you’re alone with the devil, his mouth crashes on yours again. You kiss him back - hard and just as passionately. You wish he had a shirt on still to have something to hold onto instead of his bare skin, but on the other hand, you’re getting addicted to feeling his warmth. 

You swallow his moans, drunk on the feeling of seeing him responding to every single touch. You grow bolder, burying your hands in his pink hair, tugging at the strands. Your body reacts to his, to his voice, the way his black painted nails leave scratches on your ass.  

Dealer!Sukuna who brings you over to his bed and settles down with you in his lap, straddling him. He keeps kissing you like you’re his oxygen. He feels like a fever dream - his mouth, his hands, his bare skin - he’s on fire and the fact that it’s you who makes him like this only turns you on even more. 

You can barely catch your breath, he keeps coming back for more, his hands roaming your body gently, as if he’s afraid you’d break in his hands. You won’t. You’d much rather melt in a puddle at his feet. 

Dealer!Sukuna is still hard as a rock, desperate to bury himself inside you. But he doesn’t want to rush. No, he’s planning on keeping you in his bed all night. Or at least he’s hoping to. 

Soon enough, your top is on the floor, followed by your bra. Someone knocks on the door. You and Sukuna ignore it. His big hands cover your breasts, fondling them as his thumb brushes over your nipples, causing you to shake uncontrollably. 

Your back arches slightly, you’re hanging onto his shoulders. He takes this as a hint and lowers his face to take one of your nipples in his mouth. 

“Sukuna…” you moan his name repeatedly, like an unholy prayer. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be with him. But being here with him is the first thing to make you feel in control, alive. For the first time, you know the void inside you will be filled, the loneliness crushed into smithereens, replaced with Sukuna’s intensity and warmth. 

Someone is still banging at the door, so he decides to bite down on your nipple, earning a loud cry from you. His mouth travels to your other nipple and does the same, sharp teeth digging into the tender flesh. You cry out again, unable to be silent. Eventually, the knocking stops, you glance down at Sukuna who’s gloating, the side of his face pressed against your chest. 

Dealer!Sukuna fucking adores it. He knows you’re too good for him, out of his league. Yet you chose to be here with him. You’re moaning his name. He’s the one making you feel this good. And he has no intention to stop there. His mouth captures one of your nipples again. 

Once he’s satisfied, at least for now, he lets go of your nipple with a pop, but he isn’t done with you yet, his lips kiss their way up back to yours, stealing your breath away once more. 

“Let me taste you again, y/n,” he breathes against your mouth. You look at him, a little surprised. His gaze softens ever so slightly. “Please, I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” his brows furrow slightly, you didn’t know he’d be like that with you. Gentle, sweet… yearning. 

You lean in and place kisses on the side of his neck, taunting him a little since he’s so graciously giving you the upper hand. His fingers find the zipper of your skirt but you tap his hand away and shake your head. 

“Leave it on,” you’re panting already. You haven’t even given him the green light but you remember how his mouth felt on your wet folds. You don’t want him to hold back. 

“Look at you, princess,” he purrs as he tosses you on the bed, understanding your silent plea. “I have such a bad influence on you already,” his hands reach out under your skirt and yank off your panties - he puts them in his jeans’ pocket. 

“Nah, I could never be that perverted,” you tease back, feigning innocence. Which drives Dealer!Sukuna wild. 

His face is buried against your pussy before you even realize it. He laps up the mess he caused, loudly, sucking on your clit so hard it hurts so damn good. You grab his hair with both hands, grinding against his face, chasing your orgasm. You want it badly. You want him even more. 

You’re getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing up, knowing it’s about to shatter into a million pieces, all thanks to him. 

“Kuna- god… I’m so close, please…” you beg, climax building up and almost within reach-

Dealer!Sukuna who grabs both of your wrists and pulls your hands to your sides, pinning them to the bed as he looks up at you. His mouth glistens with your arousal. Your hips are still grinding, against nothing since he’s sitting up and getting on top of you. He pins your wrists above your head with one hand, unbuttons his pants again with the other. 

Dealer!Sukuna who wanted to take his time ends up in a hurry to be inside you. Hearing your moans and cries almost drove him to the edge without having to touch himself. At this point, he’s convinced you’re some kind of siren sent to seduce him and drive him crazy. 

“You’re on birth control, yeah?” He pants, sliding his pants and boxers off. You can barely see how big he is - but you feel it once he positions himself on top of you, his hard length resting on your lower belly between your bodies. “Cause I need to feel you cum on my cock, baby,” he presses his forehead to yours and you nod. Of course you do. 

You’re on birth control. And somehow, you trust him. 

Dealer!Sukuna who fucking whimpers against your neck when he slides inside you for the first time with ease. He’s like a teenager again. It feels a first time though. He’s never been stupid enough not to wear protection with the other girls. And right now? He’s feeling everything. 

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he grunts, taking his sweet time, moving his hips at the slowest pace to feel you entirely. It’s taking him everything not to pound in and out of you. He doesn’t want to scare you away. 

You’ve never felt this way either. He’s too much and not enough at the same time. He’s everywhere, inside and out, placing kisses and biting your shoulder while maintaining his torturous pace. Frustrated and desperate, you struggle to free your hands.

“Let me touch you,” you beg, torn between the pleasure and the frustration. 

He accepts, letting go of your wrists, allowing you to place your hands on his muscular back. 

“Leave marks on me, princess. Draw blood if you want to,” he says, out of breath before devouring your mouth and eventually giving you exactly what you want. 

His hips pick up the pace until you’re forced to dig your nails into his back, your legs wrapped around him tightly. Your cheeks are burning, even more so when he licks your neck, his pink hair tickling your face. 

“How the fuck do you smell so good?” He asks but you know he’s not expecting any other answer but more moaning from you. 

At this point, your throat is sore from the animalistic noises he gets out of you. You’re about to climax and lose your mind at the same time when he changes positions, sitting back, while keeping you on the bed, ankles over his shoulders. That way, he’s able to see all of you come undone. 

“Alright, baby,” he reaches down where the both of you connect and places his thumb on your clit while he’s still pounding in and out of you, the sound of his hips against you filling the room. “You can cum now, and don’t you fucking dare be quiet about it,” his finger starts rubbing and it doesn’t take you ten seconds to eventually do as you’re told. 

When the climax hits you - it’s hard. A brutal tidal wave. And loud, just as he wanted. Your entire body comes alive in a wave of warmth and pleasure like never before. That doesn’t make him stop though, he only slows down, letting you enjoy the orgasm but keeps building the next one. You’re overstimulated and panting, still on cloud nine - but he’s not done. 

Dealer!Sukuna suddenly pulls out and flips you over on the bed, sliding a pillow under your stomach for support, keeping your legs pressed together. You wonder what he’s about to do, but you don’t expect him to bite your butt cheek - making you shriek and laugh - and the next second, he’s back on top of you. 

He slides back inside you in one swift thrust, you grip the black sheets tightly and close your eyes, lost in the feeling again. His hand caresses your back until it ends up at the back of your neck. Without a word, you understand what he’s asking. Propping yourself up and arching your back, you give him full access to your neck. His hand grips your throat, and he definitely feels how much you like it from the way you’re squeezing him.

Dealer!Sukuna doesn’t stop. Not until you cum two more times, screaming and crying from the intensity of it all, squirting all over his cock and strong thighs. He flips you over again, needing to see you when he gets to his climax. Your makeup is ruined, your cheeks stained with tears but he looks down at you with desire still. 

Dealer!Sukuna who realizes he’s never going to get enough of this view. Nothing else will ever top the sight of you under him, overstimulated and writhing. He presses his chest against yours, your bodies sticky with sweat. 

“I can’t- fuck, I can’t pull out, baby,” he pants, cupping your face before he whimpers into your neck. 

“Then don’t,” you reply, equally out of breath. You know it’s stupid, but right now you’d rather pull all of your teeth out than make him stop. Especially when you feel him swelling up inside you, moaning your name like it’s his personal mantra. 

Dealer!Sukuna who sees stars when he finally cums inside you, the high of it unlike any other drug he has ever tried before. Neither of you fully understand why, not that it matters much, but something shifted within the both of you that night. A feeling you’ve been longing for eventually bloomed in that bedroom.

He collapses on the bed next to you, catching his breath, an arm around you still. He keeps gazing at you, frowning slightly. 

Dealer!Sukuna who takes care of you once he’s able to walk and think properly again. He helps you clean up, gives you one of his t-shirts and lets you raid his mini fridge for snacks and drinks. You share them with him when you both go back to bed. He’s never done that, let someone in. But with you? It feels natural, he wants more for the first time. 

You two chat until your lips and eyes are dry, about anything and everything. You feel seen, heard. Even when he leaves the bed and goes to the window for a smoke, you stick close to him. He does that thing again, blowing smoke in your mouth and you swear you’ll never smoke directly from a joint - only from him. Both of you smile at the other, feeling like you’re sharing a secret. 

Later, he turns off the music but leaves the lamps on. You’re glad. You don’t like sleeping in the dark either. He settles on the bed and you pat your thighs, inviting him to lay his head there. He’s hesitant at first but ends up with his head in your lap and his arms around your legs.

Dealer!Sukuna never got the chance to experience genuine affection, aside from his twin brother. He always kept people at bay, too scared of being abandoned and hurt again, he made sure to become the bad guy to keep the fake people away. 

Dealer!Sukuna sighs deeply as your fingers plays with his hair, gently caressing and brushing through the pink fluff. His arms wrap a little tighter around your legs. You feel it and your heart tightens as well. 

Dealer!Sukuna who falls asleep with his head in your lap as you rub his back and neck tenderly. 

You don’t fall asleep with him just yet. You wait, taking in the sight of him so peaceful in the red light of his lava lamps. You keep playing with his hair until you hear him snoring softly. Only then, you manage to lie down next to him, making sure not to wake him up.

You’re unsure about your feelings for him but you know that leaving him in the morning will be the most difficult choice you’ll ever make. 

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[pucksandpower]

It’s Only Natural

Max Verstappen x innocent!Reader

Summary: in which Max shows you that it’s okay to want

Warnings: 18+ content

You sit on the edge of the bed, your hands folded primly in your lap. You watch as Max moves about, discarding his shirt and stepping out of his jeans until he’s down to just his boxers. There’s an easy grace to his movements, like a predatory animal comfortable in its skin.

Your eyes trace over the curves and lines of his body appreciatively before you catch yourself and quickly look away, heat flooding your cheeks. You hear him chuckle.

“See something you like?”

You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “I wasn’t looking.”

The mattress dips as Max sits beside you. He tilts your chin up. Reluctantly you meet his stare, the grey of his eyes as vivid as the stormy sky.

“It’s okay, you know. To want me.” His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “We’ve been together for months now. It’s only natural.”

You swallow hard, torn between embarrassment and yearning. “Wanting is … improper. Before marriage.” The words sound weak even to your own ears.

Max smirks. “Who told you that? Your parents? The church?” He leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “They don’t own your body or your desires. Only you do.”

You shiver at his proximity, inhaling the scent of his skin. Like walking past a bakery first thing in the morning, the aroma of fresh bread wafting out onto the street. Your mouth waters.

“I know you feel it too,” Max murmurs. “This hunger. This heat between us.” His fingers trail down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. “Don’t be ashamed of it.”

Your breaths come faster. You’re trembling, but not from the cold. “Max ...”

He silences you with a kiss. His lips are firm yet soft, coaxing rather than demanding. The kiss deepens slowly, each brush of his mouth unraveling you further until you’re clinging to him, dizzy with want.

When you finally break for air, Max gazes at you tenderly. “How do you feel?”

You lick your tingling lips. “I-I don’t know. Confused. Like my body is doing things without my permission.” You press a hand to your heaving chest. “My heart is racing so fast.”

“That’s desire, liefje.” Max strokes your hair soothingly. “It’s new and frightening now, but you’ll get used to it.” He kisses your forehead. “There’s no need to be scared.”

You nod hesitantly. He’s right, this feeling is terrifying in its intensity. But it’s also tantalizing, a thirst you never knew needed quenching.

You take a deep breath. “What happens next?”

Max smiles encouragingly. “That’s up to you. We can take this as slow or as fast as you want. It’s your journey — I’m just your guide.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “You lead, I’ll follow.”

Reassured, you lean into him. “Kiss me again?”

“With pleasure.”

This time when Max’s lips find yours, you let your instincts take over. Your mouth moves shyly against his at first but grows bolder, mimicking the way he teases your bottom lip, coaxes your tongue. The tender exploration sends pulses of heat coursing through you. You’re lit up from the inside, like a lantern glowing in the dark.

You come up for air again, dizzy and breathless. Max’s eyes are hooded, his own breathing uneven. “How was that?”

You press closer, craving the hardness of his body. “I want more.”

Max grins. “Do you now?”

Before you can respond, he captures your mouth again, kissing you with a passionate urgency that steals your thoughts away. You cling to him as the last of your inhibitions burns up like paper held to a flame.

There is only feeling now — exquisite, terrifying, blissful feeling.

When Max finally releases you, you’re shaking all over. He brushes the hair back from your face tenderly. “Talk to me. How are you?”

You wet your parched lips. “I feel … alive. Awake.” You glance up at him almost shyly. “Thank you for waking me up.”

Max’s expression softens. “You’re welcome.” He lies back on the bed, opening his arms to you. “Come here.”

You curl into him without hesitation, resting your head on his chest. His steady heartbeat grounds you as his fingers trail up and down your back idly. You trace random patterns on his skin, marveling at the way it prickles under your touch.

“Can I ask you something?” You murmur.

“Of course.”

You chew your lip thoughtfully. “How did you know? That I wanted this?”

Max considers the question. “I saw how your body responded to mine, even when you tried to hide it.” His hand slides to your hip, rubbing gentle circles. “I heard how your breathing changed when I got close to you.”

You flush at the knowing tone in his voice.

“Most of all though, I recognized the longing in your eyes.” Max tilts your chin up so you have to meet his earnest gaze. “You and I are the same. Our bodies have needs we can’t ignore.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Is it always this … intense?”

Max laughs. “No, it gets easier. The more you open yourself to pleasure, the less it will overwhelm you.” He plays with a lock of your hair idly. “Think of your desire like a wild horse. Right now it’s bucking and straining at the reins. But with time and training, you’ll be able to ride it smoothly.”

You consider this. “Have you trained your horse well?”

“Very well,” Max says wryly. “We understand each other perfectly.”

You bite your lip. “Will you teach me?”

Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire written plainly across his face. Your own excitement builds under that molten stare.

Finally he nods. “If that’s what you want.” His voice is slightly hoarse now. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.”

Your heart flutters wildly. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

Max clears his throat. “For now, just try to get comfortable being so close to me. Explore a bit.” His hand trails down your side. “Learn what feels good.”

You arch into his touch instinctively, craving more contact. Your mouths find each other again, hot and seeking. You let your hands wander across the warm planes of his chest, tracing each ridge and valley. When your fingers brush one of his nipples, Max makes a low sound that shoots desire through you like lightning.

You tear your mouth from his, eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?”

“God, no.” Max’s pupils are blown wide, fixed on you intently. “That felt good. Do it again.”

Emboldened, you experiment with touching him the way he touched you, learning which caresses make his breath hitch and muscles tighten. Before long Max is shaking under your hands, his control fraying at the edges.

“Enough,” he growls, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the bed. “Any more and this lesson will be over far too soon.”

You grin up at him impishly. “Maybe next time then.”

Max groans. “You’re going to be the death of me.” But he’s smiling as he dips his head to kiss you lazily.

When he finally releases your wrists, you wrap your arms around him, enjoying the warmth and solidness of his body. You feel different now — more awake, more alive. Like you’ve stepped through a doorway into a bigger and brighter world.

“Thank you for today,” you whisper, meaning it with your whole heart. “I feel … free.”

Max kisses the top of your head tenderly. “You’ve always been free, schatje. I’m just helping you see it.” He lifts your chin so your eyes meet. “We’ve only just started. There are so many wonders still to show you.”

A thrill races through you at the promise in his voice. You settle against his chest again, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart as you fall asleep in his arms, unafraid of wanting anymore.

Your body and heart are finally coming home to each other.

***

Morning sun spills through the curtains, rousing you slowly from sleep. The other half of the bed is empty but still warm, and the faint clatter of dishes downstairs means Max is already up and making breakfast.

You stretch languidly, yesterday’s explorations still fresh in your mind. A newfound heat simmers in your veins, sending a flush across your skin.

You find Max in the kitchen, hair charmingly mussed, wearing only pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. He grins when he sees you.

“Good morning, liefje. Sleep well?”

You come up behind him, sliding your arms around his trim waist. “Mmm I did,” you nuzzle into his bare shoulder. He smells warm and masculine. You press a kiss to his skin, eliciting a pleased hum.

“Keep that up and I’ll burn breakfast,” Max says wryly. He turns in your embrace, fingers tilting your chin up for a slow, simmering kiss. By the time he pulls back you’re breathless and tingling.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He looks delighted.

You bite your lip coyly. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.” You flatten your palms against his chest, feeling his heart pick up speed. “I want to keep learning.”

Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, desire pooling in his heated gaze. “Finish eating first,” he says finally. “Then meet me upstairs.”

Excitement bubbles through you. You eat breakfast quicker than you ever have before, then hurry to the bedroom where Max awaits, sitting on the edge of the bed. He beckons you over with a crooked smile.

“Eager today, are we?”

You nod, leaning down to initiate a kiss. Max obliges, his mouth warm and seeking against yours. When you move to deepen it further, he gently grasps your shoulders and eases you back.

“Slow down, schatje. We’ve got all the time in the world.” His tone is kind but firm. “Let’s take this lesson nice and easy.”

You duck your head, chastened. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rush.”

Max tips your chin back up, eyes tender. “It’s okay. I know everything feels new and exciting.” His thumb brushes your bottom lip softly. “But the best pleasures are the ones we savor.”

Heart swelling, you turn your head to press a kiss to his palm. “Teach me?”

Max nods. “Come sit with me.”

You settle beside him on the bed, pulse skipping when he draws you close. His hands glide up your arms, raising goosebumps, before coming to rest lightly around your neck. His touch is reverent, worshipful.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “I could spend hours exploring you.”

He kisses behind your ear, along your jawline, each press of his lips languid and unhurried. By the time he reaches your mouth you’re trembling, hyper-aware of everywhere your bodies touch.

Max takes his time kissing you deeply, thumbs sweeping over your throat and down to your collarbones. You lean into him, chasing more of that exquisite friction, but he doesn’t allow you to rush. He pulls back again and again until you relax, surrendering to his pace.

“There you go, just like that,” he praises. “Nice and slow.”

You keen softly when his fingers trail down to trace along the neckline of your shirt, back and forth. He toys with the top button, watching your face attentively.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathe.

Max smiles and pops the first button open. Then he pauses, bending to kiss the new inch of exposed skin. Goosebumps prickle across your chest as he continues his unhurried path downward, kissing each new glimpse of flesh laid bare.

By the time he reaches the last button you’re trembling violently, head tipped back in bliss. Max’s strong hands sweep up your sides and around to unclasp your bra. You gasp as the garment falls away, leaving you bare before him.

Reverently he cups your breasts, thumbs sweeping over your tightened peaks. The sensation wrings a desperate moan from you.

“You’re exquisite,” Max marvels. He bends to take one nipple into his mouth and your vision goes white, senses overwhelmed by slick heat. He suckles you gently, littering kisses across your fevered skin until you’re writhing mindlessly against him.

“Max, please ...”

He kisses his way back up to your mouth, face alight with tenderness and desire. “What do you need?”

You clutch his shoulders, nearly sobbing. “You. I need you.”

Max groans, deepening the kiss until you’re drunk on him, on this feeling. His body shifts, pressing you down into the mattress, and you go willingly, eagerly.

“Not yet, liefje.” With monumental effort he stills, pulling back to look at you. His eyes are dark, lips kiss-swollen. “Is this too much?”

You shake your head desperately. “Don’t stop. Show me everything.”

Max hesitates, muscles corded with restraint. “Next time,” he grits out. “I want our first to be perfect.”

He rolls off you and you whimper at the loss of contact. Max gathers you close, stroking your hair as you slowly come down from your near-high.

“You were incredible,” he murmurs. “So receptive. So passionate.”

You cling to him, heart still pounding. “I want you so much it hurts.”

Max tips your chin up, gazing at you solemnly. “I know. And you’ll have me, I promise.” He kisses you sweetly. “But forcing things too soon will only dull the pleasure later.”

You know he’s right. With great effort you tamp down the fever in your blood, focusing on the warmth and strength of his embrace.

“Thank you for stopping,” you whisper. “I know it wasn’t easy.”

Max smiles wryly. “You have no idea.” He caresses your face tenderly. “But your pleasure means more to me than my own.”

You lick your suddenly parched lips. “I’m ready,” you say simply. “Whenever you think the time is right.”

Max’s eyes darken. For a long moment he just looks at you, stripped bare by yearning. Then he nods slowly. “Soon.”

***

The next few days pass in a haze of stolen kisses and wandering hands. Each touch stokes the fire between you higher, until you’re dizzy with anticipation.

When Max finally whispers that you’re ready, that tonight will be the night, you can scarcely breathe for excitement. He takes you upstairs after dinner, kissing you deeply before leaving to run you a bath.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

You change into the lacy lingerie set you bought just for this occasion, hands trembling. The ivory silk and lace hugs your curves perfectly, making you feel delicate and desired.

Max returns to find you sitting primly on the bed, heart in your throat. His eyes widen, traveling appreciatively over you.

“You’re a vision,” he murmurs. He sits beside you, hand coming up to caress the line of your throat, tantalizingly close to the swells of your barely concealed breasts. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

He kisses you, slow and deep, until you’re breathing hard. With gentle hands he undresses you, lips following the path of revealed skin. By the time the lingerie slips to the floor, you’re trembling and ready.

Max rises gracefully from the bed, shedding his own clothes. The hunger in his eyes steals your breath away. He’s beautiful like this, powerful muscle and taut sinew under smooth skin. Your apprehension melts into awed desire.

“Come,” he says simply, holding out a hand.

He leads you into the bathroom where rose petals float across steaming water. Candles line the counter, filling the air with a soft glow.

Max helps you into the tub before sliding in behind you. You sigh, relaxing back against his chest. For a while he just holds you, lips grazing your temple, your cheek, the curve of your shoulder.

“Are you nervous?” He asks eventually. His breath tickles your ear.

“A little,” you admit. “Mostly just excited.” You cover his hands with your own, drawing them around to span your stomach. “I’m ready for you to have all of me.”

Max nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “You honor me.” His palms glide higher, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease your nipples. You arch into the caress, lips parting in bliss. He kisses down the slope of your neck until you’re mindless, head falling back onto his shoulder.

“Max ...” His name catches on a moan.

He kisses just beneath your ear. “Tell me what you need, schatje.”

You take one of his hands, guiding it lower beneath the water. Max exhales harshly when you press his fingers between your legs.

“Please,” you beg softly.

Max complies, caressing you in unhurried circles. The slick glide of his fingers has you shaking, pulsing against his hand. He works you higher with gentle expertise until your climax crashes over you like a wave. You cry out, collapsing limply back against him.

Max holds you through the aftershocks, murmuring praise and adoration. As you float back down he washes you tenderly, hands worshipping every inch of your spent body. By the time he helps you from the bath your nerves have melted away, replaced only by bliss.

Max dries you off before scooping you up and carrying you to bed. He lays you down reverently and you reach for him, needing to feel him against you.

He goes willingly, covering your body with his, all heated skin and taut muscle. You revel in the delicious weight of him, the intimacy of full-body contact. Max kisses you deeply, one hand trailing down to lift your knee, opening you up to him.

He pulls back just far enough to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?” His voice resonates with restraint.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please, Max.”

He kisses you sweetly as he finally, carefully, joins your bodies. You gasp into his mouth at the feeling of him filling you so exquisitely. For a moment you’re frozen, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Max stills, letting you adjust. “Talk to me, liefje.” His voice is tight. “Does it hurt?”

You run your hands up his back, grounding yourself in the solidness of him. “No. It just feels … big.” You shift your hips experimentally and have to stifle a moan. “But so good.”

Max relaxes slightly, some of the tension leaving his frame. “We’ll take this slow.” He kisses across your cheekbones, your fluttering eyelids, soothing you as your body adjusts to accommodate him. “Just breathe. There’s no rush.”

When you finally nod for him to move, he rocks into you in achingly gradual strokes. Each glide lights you up from within, pleasure swelling inexorably. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, taking him deeper.

Max groans. “You feel incredible.” He quickens just slightly, just enough to wring gasps from you both. “So perfect for me.”

You cling to him, this man you love beyond reason, beyond promise. He fills you in every way, heart, body and soul. “Max,” you breathe against his lips like a prayer, and his pace stutters.

“Say it again.” His eyes are molten, searing into yours.

“Max.” You pour every ounce of love and devotion you feel into his name.

With a ragged moan he claims your mouth, kissing you fiercely even as his hips snap against yours. You cry out, senses flooded by him, by the feeling of your bodies joining so exquisitely. The pleasure crests unbearably high before you shatter, clenching and shuddering around him.

Max follows you over with a harsh groan, chest heaving against yours. For an eternity all you know is each other, breathing as one.

Max rolls to the side so he doesn’t crush you, pulling you along so you stay cradled against him. You cling tightly, still joined, overwhelmed by what you’ve just shared.

Max tilts your chin up, eyes tender but concerned. “Are you alright?”

You smile shakily, smoothing back his sweat-damp hair. “I’m perfect.” You press soft kisses across his face. “That was … everything.”

Relief breaks across his face. He wraps you in his arms, tucking your head under his chin. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “Beyond anything.”

You snuggle closer, basking in the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his heart. “I love you too. Forever.”

Eventually Max slips from your body and you mourn the loss, even as exhaustion tugs at you. He cleans you gently with a warm cloth before pulling you against him once more.

You drift toward sleep, lulled by the soothing strokes of his fingers through your hair. Just before slumber takes you, Max presses his lips to your temple.

“Thank you for your gift tonight,” he breathes. “I’ll spend my whole life trying to be worthy of it.”