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lay-z · 4 months ago

Note

sleepy omega!reader x poly 141 just constantly wanting cuddles or just sliding into their beds in the middle of the night because the massive stuffed teddy in their nest isnt doing it for them-

Gosh dang it, I've become such a sucker for anything Omegaverse 🥹 Thank you for your request! I hope you'll like this blurb 🩷 And I'm so sorry this took so long, omg!

Pairing: alpha!TF-141 x omega!gn!Reader

Warnings/Info: military!Reader; packmates; alpha/omega dynamics; domesticity; hurt/comfort; fluff; teammates/friends to lovers

No matter how much you're tossing and turning while clinging to your favourite ginormous bear plushie (a gift from Price himself), your nest feels... off. It's not nearly as warm and cosy enough as you need it, and you don't understand why.

You haven't made any big changes, have you? You'd simply fluffed up all the blankets and pillows and plushies you own; the usual routine. Your nose wrinkles as you sit up inside your nest to sniff around in the dark. Okay, perhaps the scent of your pack mates isn’t quite there anymore—only barely lingering on your nesting materials, but that shouldn’t bother you as much as it does right now.

They’re right here, just across the hallway in their respective rooms or perhaps still lounging in the living room, quietly suffering with their episodic insomnia. So, knowing that they’re under the same roof with you should be enough, but it simply isn’t.

As you dig yourself out from under your pillow fortress, you immediately shiver as soon as the chilly winter breeze currently sweeping in through the cracked window hits your flushed body, because even in the deepest winter season, you cannot sleep with the window closed. And now clad, or rather drowning, in one of Simon’s hoodies and a pair of warm sweatpants, you’re still cold.

No, something isn’t quite right.

You feel too restless, uncomfortable, and lonely.

Crawling out of your nest, you scramble to your feet and make your way out of your bedroom and into the living room down the hall—where you can already see the flickering light of the flat TV around the corner, though the volume is low and heavily drowned out by your pack leader’s hackle-raising snores.

Peeking around the corner, not wanting to disturb him, you find John sprawled out on the large armchair, clutching the remote in one hand, his head tipped back and mouth wide open while he continues to sound like a berserker with sinusitis. It’s an endearing sight, seeing him this openly vulnerable and relaxed, and you can't stop yourself from getting a whiff of his sleepy, musky scent as you sniff the air greedily.

It makes your heart flutter and a pleasant shiver run down your spine.

Oh, how tempted you are to simply walk up and crawl into his lap, bury your face into his chest and sleep with him like this, but you don’t want to risk waking him up, so you let out the softest sigh and slowly turn to sneak off into the other direction, back towards your own cold, empty bedroom—

Just to bump into a tall, solid mountain of lean muscle.

“Havin’ fun stalking the Cap while he’s knocked out cold?”

You swallow a surprised squeak and stare up at Kyle with wide doe-eyes as he swiftly reaches out to grasp your forearms to keep you steady and in place. His voice is soft, full of amusement, his warm brown eyes nearly twinkling in the flickering lights of the TV as he looks down at you. “Aw, did I scare ya, little mouse?”

You shake your head adamantly. “No, I was just getting a glass of water.” It’s a white lie, but you don’t want to start explaining something you have no explanation for yet.

Kyle lifts an eyebrow and releases you to cross his arms as he scrutinizes you while you can clearly see his nostrils twitch as he scents you discreetly.

“I see,” he replies eventually, though, knowing Kyle, you can tell that he’s not buying your lie one bit. “So, you’re good, yeah? Headin’ back to your den then?”

The question lingers in the air and as you open your mouth to answer, he beats you to it.

“Or perhaps another room tonight?” Kyle watches your lashes flutter as you blink dumbly, and he ignores the sudden urge to squish your cheeks with his hands and pull your face against his neck to scent-mark you thoroughly. “I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “ya haven’t been seekin’ out any one of us lately, ‘s all.” He’s not accusing you, just stating an observation he’s made.

And it’s true. You haven’t been seeking out the alphas of your pack; too afraid to be viewed as annoying or too clingy. It’s been hard enough to be the only omega in TF-141, after all. You don’t want to be their burden but an asset instead.

Swallowing thickly, you really wish you had a cold glass of water right about now. “Uhm, well–” You press your lips into a tight line before you shrug, feeling like a complete idiot. At this point, you might be worse than Simon when it comes to articulating your feelings—not that you’d ever willingly admit that out loud.

“I just... don’t wanna bother anyone. You’re all stressed and busy and uh... yeah, I’ll just go back to my room, I guess,” you grumble, hoping that neither sadness nor disappointment spike your scent to tell on you.

Kyle lets out a small huff through his nose and rolls his shoulders as he listens to you. There’s a slight twitch between his brows as you mention being a bother to them, but then he fixes his face into a more neutral expression before he steps aside.

“Alright. Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You give a small nod, wishing deep down that he’d simply tug you along and make you sleep in his bedroom tonight, but Kyle stands stock still, and you walk past him back down the hall and into your empty, chilly omega den—somehow feeling worse than before.

Your gloomy bedroom feels even colder while you rearrange your nest for the third time, but never feeling satisfied with it. You keep swallowing down the little, high-pitched chuffs and whines of distress bubbling up in your throat; afraid someone might hear or smell the underlying bitterness now lacing your usually bloomy, comforting scent.

When the door suddenly creaks open, you freeze and hold your breath, spine straightening as you kneel in the middle of your nest, clutching your plushie to your chest.

“Relax,” Johnny chuckles quietly, his voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep, “…s’ jus’ me, hen.”

He slips through the crack and leaves the door ajar before he casually walks towards your nest, stretching languidly with a yawn before slipping inside with you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble reflexively, nearly whining, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

But Johnny only clucks his tongue, eyes already fluttering shut in bliss as he pulls you into his arms. “None ‘o tha’, hen,” he grumbles, letting out a contented chuff as soon as he buries his nose into your hair. “Ah missed ye.”

The vibration of his low rumble makes you shiver, it breaks you out of your momentary stupor, and you swiftly reciprocate his embrace, burying your nose into his neck and huffing his lightly smoky scent eagerly with a happy purr.

And while you and Johnny cuddle, bringing balance back to your room, your bedroom door is pushed open once more and a warm, musky scent is added to the atmosphere—like suede and cask aged bourbon.

Simon slips into your nest and curls his massive body around you from behind with nothing more than a deep, sleepy grumble as his heavy arm snakes around your torso, pulling you closer until the tip of his nose is pressed against the nape of your neck.

Feeling like you’re finally on omega cloud nine at this point, surrounded by two of your precious alphas in your own nest, you can barely hear the other two males stumbling into your room above the beginning snores coming from both Johnny and Simon.

“C’mon, Cap, this way.” Lifting your head up, you can hear Kyle mutter quietly as he guides a sleep-drunk Captain Price towards your nest.

“Stay.” Johnny mumbles in his sleep, curling his arm tighter around your waist below Simon’s arm as you shift in their snug embraces, but before you can reply, Price lets out a soft growl—not a warning but a non-verbal order—and suddenly, all four men arrange themselves in your nest, dragging their bulky bodies around sluggishly until they’ve build a proper cuddle pile around you.

They end up snuggling and hugging you one way or another, their noses pressed into your skin while you’re practically buzzing as you purr for them.

“T’was a proper pain in the arse to wake ‘em up, sweet’eart,” Kyle mutters with a soft sigh, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “Next time you feel like this, you let us know. We’re here to take care of our ‘mega… and don’t lie to me again,” he grumbles, interlacing his fingers with yours tenderly while your heart thuds steadily against your chest.

“You’re a shit liar.”

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xervn · 7 months ago

Text

melatonin

two-shot | enemies to fuckers sevika x reader

pt. 2

ao3 link

summary: you're forced to go on a business trip with your least favorite coworker and share a room with her. now you can't sleep.

18+ MDNI | 4.1k words | tags; canon divergence, sevika is a little mean, sevika is nonchalant fr, reader is a brat, very light sub/dom, vaginal fingering, scissoring, begging kink, praise kink kinda, porn w/ plot-ish, no use of y/n

new record; took me 4 days to write. i don't know who possessed me. i love enemies to lovers so bad FUCKKKK!!!

“One room.” The motel owner, an old, short, and grotesque-looking woman with a thick accent, says.

“One room? Clear another one out then?” You insist, mildly threateningly. The woman’s eyes glaze over as she blinks. She’s not moved.

“There are two beds; who cares?” Sevika grumbles, clearly over your antics.

You shoot a glare in her direction, lip forming into a scowl. “I’m not sharing a room with you; you look like you snore.”

She tells you something along the lines of go fuck or kill yourself (you weren’t really listening) before pushing past you and replacing the room keys on the counter with a stack of silver cogs.

The owner collects the cogs with a grunt before adjusting her small reader glasses. Sevika strides off towards the rooms, and you quickly turn after her.

“Couldn’t you have tried to help?” You ask. Your eyes burn a hole through the side of her face.

She doesn’t spare you a glance. “You’re dramatic, and I don’t have the patience to deal with your bullshit right now.”

You hate her. You fucking hate her. You’ve been working alongside Sevika for two years now, yet you can’t shake the feeling. It started when you first met; Sevika was cold and critical, reprimanding you even though you were young and starting out. That’s not even what drove you to hate her, though; at least back then it felt like she was looking out for you, but you were painfully mistaken when you got promoted within the year.

You don’t know what it was; jealousy, doubt, but her distaste for you only grew more apparent. There were fewer critiques and more insults about how you work or about your intelligence. Insufferable. She was insufferable.

There hasn’t been a day she’s been likable since then, so imagine your reaction when Silco tells you and her to go on a little business trip to Bilgewater. No matter how much the both of you wanted to protest, you didn’t. Instead you two argued amongst yourselves the whole trip there.

Why would you want to spend even more unnecessary time around her?

The minute you guys enter your room, you don’t speak a single word to each other, let alone look each other’s way. You take turns using the restroom to get ready for bed, and then you find a place for your belongings, and Sevika ejects her bionic arm for the night. Although you two definitely don’t like each other, it doesn’t mean you don’t trust each other. You know she won’t rob you; she knows you won’t (can’t) take advantage and kill her. That’s the only semblance of peace you share.

—

A faint amber light soaks through your eyelids, and you blink them open to the popcorned ceiling. You toss and turn in your bed, rustling around, unable to find a good position, and it doesn’t help that the cheap mattress is, well, cheap. You can’t sleep. You’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it’s never been a real problem before; you’d just stay up. Yes, you have permanent eye bags because of it, but it’s not like you can choose otherwise. You‘re from Zaun; any aid for it is not exactly accessible.

However, the meeting you have tomorrow is important, so it’s important that you find a way. You can’t afford to slack off or doze off during it; you’re the negotiator, and tomorrow makes or breaks a trade deal that will be most beneficial for Zaun’s income.

You rustle in your bed sheets again, and Sevika immediately groans. “Can you stop? And turn the lamp off.”

You look at her and you’re about to apologize, but you hold your tongue when you remember who you’re talking to. “I can’t sleep.”

“Turn the lamp off and fucking figure it out.” She snaps, turning her back towards you.

“Can’t you hear?” You squirm around, making as much noise as possible to get your point across. “I’m trying.”

“Find a different way. Count poros. Turn the lamp off.”

You scoff, eyes back on the ceiling, “I’m not five; counting poros doesn’t work, and I’m not turning off the lamp.”

You can hear Sevika shifting in her bed. “I knew you should’ve stayed back,” she sighs, “and you’re scared of the dark? Grow up.”

“Wow, fuck you. If you had asked nicely, I would’ve turned it off, and what do you mean I ‘should’ve stayed’? You’re not my boss. I’m more valuable than you are.” You angrily rant.

“Alright, you are talking way too much right now. Cut it out.”

“…No.” You reply. It sounds unconvincing with your lack of words, but it was the best you could come up with.

“Do you need calming tea or something? What will get you to shut up, because I’m about to hold a pillow over your head and call it a night.” She growls.

“Nothing. I can only sleep if I get a concussion or if I drink my pants off.”

She says your name like a warning, “If you ruin this deal, I’ll make sure to see you off myself.”

You bite back, “Sevika, if I could sleep, I would be sleeping. I don’t want to ruin it either, but your scolding isn’t helping.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, then Sevika grunts stubbornly. It’s followed by sheets moving and a dull stomp on the floor. You turn to look, and you see Sevika sitting at the side of her bed.

You glance at her muscular thighs in those gray shorts—you couldn’t help it—before staring back at the ceiling. “Are you going to make me tea?”

She pushes off the bed with her one arm. “No.”

“Switching rooms then?” You ask as your eyes follow her shadow’s movement on the walls.

“No.”

“Then... What is it?“ You turn, flinching a bit when you find Sevika peering down at you.

She looks hesitant, timid; the first time you’ve ever seen it. “I’ll help you.”

Your defenses go off, and you quickly sit up. “Wait. You’re not going to kill me, right?”

“Over sleep? Are you stupid?” She pushes you back down, and not with much force, obviously.

You lay there, defeated. “So?”

“I said, ‘I’ll help you.'” She restates.

You stare up at her with slight annoyance, “Well, you have to tell me how?”

She has an indecisive frown before exhaling, “If you come, you’ll shut up.”

Your head shakes in confusion. “Come? Where are we going?”

“You’re an actual idiot.” She groans.

You gasp in offense. “You’re the one being fucking cryptic—“

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.”

“What?”

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.”

“I heard you; I’m just,” you laugh nervously, “are you serious?” Your ears must be playing tricks on you.

“We’re not close enough to joke around with each other.” She says plainly.

Baffled, you reply, “We’re not close enough to fuck either?”

“Do you really care about shit like that? Sex is sex.”

You think about it for a second. You’ve never been in a proper relationship, and you’ve only had a handful of hookups, but you’ve never slept with someone you dislike, and you definitely don’t like Sevika. Even if she is hot. “Well, I guess not—“

“—Then what’s the issue?” Her eyes bore into you.

You gulp at the sudden weight of her stare, but you don’t crumble. “The issue is that I don’t like you. At all.”

Sevika scoffs, “I’ve seen the way you stare at me. You’re not subtle. At all. I saw you do it a few minutes ago.”

How embarrassing. It’s true, between all your hate are moments of admiration. Sevika is “cool,” she’s respected, she’s feared. She’s also full of herself, naggy, and blunt. Both things can be true. But on top of that, she’s hot to the point it’s frustrating.

One time, while she was sitting in her designated booth at The Last Drop playing poker, she locked eyes with you after a big win. There was that sexy, satisfied grin she always gets after every win, and she had the audacity to lock eyes with you.

Your thighs pressed together. You beat yourself up over it for the rest of the night and the following day; you couldn’t even look her in the eye without getting unreasonably angry.

Your face is turning warm, but there’s no point in turning away—you have to fake it until you make it. “Okay? What’s your point?” You ask, even though her point was very clear. You’re running yourself into walls.

Sevika already deciphered that; her face reads, ‘Where the fuck are you right now?’ “Listen, I don’t like you either, but if you want to sleep, I’ll help you, and if you don’t, I’ll get another room.” She explains.

You can tell it’s her final offer. You chew your bottom lip until you remember Sevika is still looking at you. Hiding your face behind your hand, you can’t believe you’re considering it. Sex with Sevika. Sounds mad when you repeat it in your head. It’s just sex, though, right? You knew she loved Zaun, but you didn’t know she loved it this much. Sleeping with you, practically her arch nemesis, for the betterment of society. That sounds insane. This is insane.

Sevika kisses her teeth, “Forget it—“

“—Okay,” you interrupt, “help me.” You’re unable to look her in the eyes.

She looks at you dubiously, and her lack of doing anything unnerves you, so you continue. “Please?” You slowly look up at her, and you swear her eyes darkened.

“Please?” She mimics. “Didn’t take you for the submissive type.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, although it comes out like a whisper.

“Mhm,” she hums apathetically, pulling up the covers draped over you. Her knee makes a dip in the bed. “Make some space,” she asks. You sit up, and you have no idea what to do. Looking left and right, you'd think you were trying to cross the road. She stares blankly. “Just spread your legs.” She commands.

You immediately do as she says, and she chuckles to herself at how you continue to prove her right. You’re clearly not a fan of that, your frown prominent. “What’s funny?”

Sevika kneels herself between your legs, using her arm to help balance her in place. “Man, you love to argue.”

You shrug. “I’ll stop when you fuck me to sleep. If you can... Don’t you think you’re a little overconfident?”

Sevika slowly blinks at you, unsure of whether she should be turned on or irritated. You take it as the latter, and now it’s your turn to chuckle to yourself. But your self-satisfied giggling stops when she leans over you, inches away from your face, “You’re about to find out.”

You never took the time to process Sevika kneeling between your legs, and now you can feel each exhale from her on your face. Your body starts to process it too: your breathing gets heavier and your heartbeat gets faster. You don’t have a crush on her or anything, but this is an unusual, unsurprisingly hot experience. Your eyes flicker to her full, uneven lips before they squeeze shut.

Sevika flicks your forehead. “Wh—ow?!” You whine, rubbing your head with your hand to soothe it.

“I’m not kissing you.” She clarifies.

Your face warms with embarrassment, fingers gripping at the fabric beneath you. “How was I supposed to know you wanted a staring contest?” You grumble.

Sevika rolls her eyes, barely shaking her head in disappointment. Her face moves on from yours, and her lips attack the exposed curvature of your neck, licking, biting, and rendering you speechless. She gives you no time to regulate your emotions, and you let out a soft groan you would’ve otherwise swallowed down. Just what she wanted: less talking, more moaning.

Letting her guide the tilt of your head, you awkwardly rest your hands on her shoulders. You’re unsure of whether you can or should touch her. She pauses. “Sor— I… uh…” You stammer and put your hands up. You decide to just stop speaking to save yourself.

“Relax.” She tells you, gazing at you through her loose, dark hair. It stirs something below you.

You place your hands back on her shoulders, albeit reluctantly, and try to maintain eye contact so you look composed.

Sevika doesn’t buy it. She glances at your hands, very tellingly. “…Relax.” She repeats, softer than she did before, and your heart skips a beat like you’re in a cliché.

Hesitantly, you slide your arms around her shoulders, linking your hands together. It feels intimate, too intimate, and looking at her is getting harder by the second. Sevika chuckles in a way that borders on a scoff. “You wanted to do that; don’t be shy about it.”

You huff, “I didn’t know I was being teased to sleep…”

“Is it working? It’d save me time.”

“Fuck off...”

“You’d hate that.” She replies, as if it’s undeniable. It is, but she’s way too cocky about it. You look like you’re about to curse her out, but you’re holding it back.

Sevika grins smugly, and for a moment, she considers kissing you. Your arms are wrapped around her shoulders, your eyes are yelling, ‘Fuck me already,’ lips practically begging to meet hers.

This is intimate, too intimate. It’s fucking with her logical reasoning—not that this is logical to begin with. It sounds stupid, but it’s worked for her so far; she casually fucks on the regular, and she doesn’t kiss them ever. Never really felt like it. Yet, here you are, making her feel new things. She knows there’s no going back if she makes an exception with you, and quite frankly, you still piss her off. It’s conflicting.

You impatiently perk a brow at her. You had to stop yourself from flat-out asking her to continue; your ego can’t afford you coming off as begging.

For a millisecond she looks like she got caught, then a millisecond later, she’s on you again.

She attentively kisses the skin below the curve of your jawline, her tongue making frequent warm appearances. It’s much more fervent, but rough in a way that makes you tremble. She always makes sure you feel her teeth gliding over when she moves to the next spot. Your legs move on their own, one leg curling up against her side. You’re already pooling where you’re seated, but now it’s getting uncomfortable to sit this damp.

Experienced is how you can describe her right now. You heard rumors of her activity, but you never believed it. There was no way her ol’ grumpy ass was getting laid, no matter how incredibly sexy she was. Then again, you never got along, which makes this situation, this fucking feeling, even crazier.

She was being extra careful not to bruise you at first, but she seems not to care anymore, only driven further when she hears your little gasps or feels your arms tightening around her. She’s getting carried away, but she’ll figure out how to play it off some other time.

Sevika pulls back. She throbs at your dazed and confused expression. “Come closer.” She ushers as she transitions to sitting rather than kneeling on the bed.

With no hesitation, you don’t let go of Sevika as you push yourself forward on your hips, sitting your ass comfortably on the edge of Sevika’s lap. Her hand lands on your waist. She says, “Lay down for me.”

You nod shyly, removing your arms from Sevika’s shoulders and descending onto the mattress. Sevika tries to ignore how the loss of your arms around her made her feel. Her hand travels to the waistband of your joggers. “You’re going to have to move these for me too.” She asks, shrugging her shoulder that’s missing an arm as a reminder.

She doesn’t move; she waits. Your insides do a flip. She’s waiting for you to remove them how you are now: legs diverged around her, hips pointed towards her. You think about how vulnerable you’ll look and feel when you slide them off, showing her the sopping mess she unknowingly made between your legs. You know she’s going to see it eventually, but from you doing the honors? That’s tearing you apart. She notices a shift in your demeanor, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. “Hurry up.”

“Can’t you move back…?”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “No.”

You whine in embarrassment, briefly shielding your face in your hands before hastily pulling at your waistband. You wish you had turned the lamp off.

Sevika’s hand clasps over yours. “Slowly.” She scolds. Scolds. You’re fucking flabbergasted. She’s doing this on purpose, you can tell. She’s barely holding back another signature, smug smile.

“You’re such a dick.” You curse. A direct juxtaposition in your actions that don’t defy Sevika at all. Hell, it juxtaposes your body because of how you’re aching for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Off.” She pulls at the band of your pants, letting it slap down when she releases it.

You mutter out a few more curses that she fully grins at before you silently begin to remove your joggers and underwear simultaneously. You lift your hips for mobility, and Sevika’s eyes are glued to the fabric making its way down your thighs, and you’re forced to watch how intently she’s watching you. You can try to insist this is humiliating and cruel, but you can’t stop throbbing just from this; her eyes anticipating your reveal, like you’re a self-opening present.

The clothing starts to bunch at the middle of your thighs, and your arousal is halfway there to being exposed to Sevika. The scent is what hits her first; it makes her want to yank your pants down and give you what you want, but watching you do it so much better.

Once it reaches above your knees, she partially moves out of the way so she can help you remove them properly. While she tosses it elsewhere, you debate pinning your legs shut.

Sevika looks back at you—your legs, actually—and you do flinch them closed. She tsks. “Don’t be stubborn. Not now.” She didn’t sound like she was insulting you, even though a small part of you wanted to be offended.

You let out a shaky sigh and avoid her gaze, slowly parting your legs. Thighs slicked with arousal, folds glistened with the same, you’re undeniably soaked. You prepare yourself to look at Sevika’s shit-eating grin, but when you do, it’s nothing of the sort. Her eyes are low, shaded, and memorializing, and her bottom lip fully disappeared between her teeth.

Then she grins; she even laughs, just as you expected. You groan, not at her, but at how wet you got from it. “I didn’t even do anything yet.” She teases, her eyes still locked on the ego-stroking mess she made of you.

“Such a di—“ You cut yourself off to moan sharply.

Sevika’s thumb came in contact with your swollen clit, the rough pad of her thumb making perfect circles; the rest of her fingers positioned in the patch of hair crowning above it.

“How fast do you think you’ll come? I’m thinking,” she pretends to, only to press her thumb over your clit. Filthy words flutter from your lips, and you instinctively grind into her touch. “Three minutes?”

You look pissed between your bouts of pleasure; it molds together attractively. Sevika can’t wait to make it break, make you cry, and fuck the attitude out of you. “What? You should see how wet you are; you’d think I already fucked you.”

She feels the way you twitch at her words, and it makes the pressure between her legs unbearable. She should just strip and grind her cunt into you, but she knows she won’t be able to stop there. Fuck her stupid life; she’s losing the plot.

Her thick forefinger collects your slick as she paths towards your entrance. You twitch as she slides it in, making you gasp. She chuckles as your walls clench around her finger, and she starts pushing it in and out, painstakingly slow.

It’s not enough, yet you can’t bring yourself to beg her for more. It’s at the tip of your tongue, but Sevika was right; you are stubborn. She reads you like a book, and she can read you now. She angles her finger in a way that brushes against your g-spot, but at the same mind-numbingly slow pace.

Your body doesn’t know what to do; you can’t find friction anywhere; you can squeeze against her finger, but it doesn’t change her speed; all you can do is writhe in place. “You look like you need something,” she says, almost like it’s a thought in her head, so condescending, so fucking hot. Your pussy tenses around her finger for the millionth time, and you almost, almost, cry. “You’re gonna cut my finger off at this rate.” You tense again. She chuckles.

“Sev—Sevika,” you bite your lip to hold down a sharp inhale, but it fails miserably. “Sevika, you’re not helping.”

“Should I stop?” She asks with the tilt of her head. Her finger does stop regardless of the answer.

Your hands reach out for her wrist, weakly clawing at it. “No! No, pl...” You mildly cringe at yourself, turning away.

Sevika’s brows lifted. “What was that? Pl...?” She begins her pace again, and you realize you didn’t appreciate it enough before. “You said it once already; come on.”

Your lips tremble, “Plea—se—?” She barely lets you finish the word before slipping another finger into your drooling cunt. Her pace increases, and you let go of her wrist as you succumb to pleasure.

Your arousal coating her fingers makes the most obscene noises; she wonders if the entire motel can hear it. You try to suppress your moans with your hand, but you can never do it right, not with the way she’s fucking you. Sevika’s glad you can’t; having one arm would’ve been even more inconvenient otherwise. She needs to hear you sob out her name at least once. “Please what?” She leans over you as she slams her fingers into you, pressing them against your wet, ridged, gummy walls.

“You’re— fuck, you’re pushing it,” you groan, and just like that, she slows down. But you’re weak, and you crumble. “Wait, wait, wait—please. Please, fuck me... Fuck me to sleep.” You ramble loosely, back to scratching at her wrists again. There’s that smile you were thinking about earlier, the one she gets after a big win. She broke you, and she lost the plot ages ago.

—

It’s been an hour, and you’re already on the brink of your third orgasm. Sevika folded and ended up, verbatim, stripping and grinding her cunt into yours. You should be asleep right now, but Sevika said you have enough time to catch up on it before the meeting. You hope that’s true, but you don’t care. You can’t get enough of her or her abs flexing with every desperate hump.

So intent on getting her rocks off, practically using you for her own pleasure at this point—you already came twice now; any more is a bonus, just like the one building up right now. Your eyes are pressed shut, trying to envision your release so it comes quicker. “Just like that. Keep fucking me, please, Sev.” You beg through your teeth and quiet sniffles. Sevika’s fingers squeeze the meat of your thigh.

She murmurs, “You,” her movements get sloppier; you can tell she’s close, “feel so fucking good.” Now you’re close—no, you come at her praise.

You’re shaking, grabbing at the sheets that have since slid off the mattress. You forgot how to breathe; all you can feel is your orgasm coursing through you. Your mind is turning fuzzy, and even fuzzier with Sevika still grinding into you. Your moans are pitchy and pornographic; you’re making sounds you didn’t even think happened in real life. “Sevika...” You sob out from overstimulation, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

She loves it. “Shit…” Sevika moans, followed by several more curses as she shudders out her orgasm. Her vision goes blurry for a second from how hard she came. She tries to control her labored breathing as she comes to, breathlessly calling your name.

When she focuses in on you, you’re passed out, fucked out, and peaceful. Sevika’s pupils dilate at the markings she left on your neck, then to your lips, which she’s yet to have the chance to kiss. She lets the sleep weighing on her win and carefully collapses beside you.

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane #sevika x y/n #sevika x female reader #sevika smut

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shy-writer-999 · 8 months ago

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When they're drunk: Monster Trio, Ace + Law (sfw, fluff)

Summary: How do they act when they're drunk? What's their favorite drink? Do they get lovey-dovey? SFW fluff. CW: Curse words/profanity. "Princess" used in Sanji and Ace's parts. Mentions of kissing/making out, suggestive themes but nothing outright explicit (hence, sfw). A singular, mild nod to vomiting in Sanji's section.

Luffy: rowdy and hungry

He’s pretty predictable; he gets rowdy, eats a lot, and has horrible hangovers (one of the main reasons he abstains from drinking almost entirely).

Rarely drinks. One of the reasons in his mind for not over-indulging is that if he gets too drunk he won’t be able to remember all the meat he ate.

Literally no impulse control. So when he does drink, he racks up a HUGE tab (mostly bar food) and one of the crew has to pick up his bill because he forgets to close it out. You make sure to tip extra because it’s his tab.

Eats even more than usual because (obviously) eating good food while you’re drunk makes it taste even better. Chokes on his food more, too. It's kind of a pain in the ass.

Luffy is a MENACE about the food. He’ll gomu gomu his arm to the other side of the bar to swoop up some unsuspecting random’s food and he’ll shove it in his gullet in the blink of an eye. No evidence or crumbs. A monster.

He gets dehydrated because he doesn’t drink water when he’s drunk, and his salt intake is crazy, so he literally has to be reminded to do so. At some point you just start pushing a glass of water into his hands and rolling your eyes because you know he’s going to be the biggest complainer the next morning.

Luffy and Usopp egg each other on, it’s bad because sometimes they have drinking contests (or eating contests). They get scrappy sometimes and you have to tell them off because they cause a scene.

He won’t shut up about being king of the pirates. No one minds but, goddamn, how many times can one person say that in a night?

He’s endearingly sweet when he’s had too much to drink. He can’t stop staring at you when his face isn’t buried in a plate of food.

His eyes are glued to your face.

“Luffy, what? Why are you staring at me?”

“You just look so pretty.”

He even wants to hold your hand when you walk back to the ship at the end of the night. The whole crew thinks you make a cute couple, and they love how happy you make each other.

When you crawl into bed at the end of the night, he clings onto you like a sloth and then starts snoring in your ear. He wraps himself around you and conks out almost immediately.

Sure enough, the next morning he’s complaining so much it would be insufferable if you didn’t love him to pieces. He whines and you take care of him.

Luffy recovers from his monster hangover at a superhuman speed, which makes the whining not so bad—it’ll be less than an hour of complaining and whining and pouting, but when you’ve made him drink enough water and brought him enough food, he is as good as new in mere minutes. It’s uncanny.

Favorite drink?: Anything he can get his hands on, but he likes beer best (more volume). Will never do shots.

Zoro: over-indulges like clockwork

When he's drunk he generally does things he shouldn’t. Drinks too much and flirts too much. Eats way too much and runs his mouth too much, too.

He flirts with anyone he wants to, which is usually VERY out of character, but he doesn’t care at all when he’s drunk. He’ll flirt with you, with Sanji’s partner, with Sanji (?), the bartender, anyone and everyone he feels like.

It’s when he’s tipsy that the flirting starts. He’s deviously subtle about it at first. Zoro jokes and tease, but after coaxing so much laughter out of you one too many times, you start to wonder if he’s flirting with you (he is).

He gets more blunt as the night goes on. The drunker he is the bolder he is. He manages to elicit more crimson, flushed faces in the bar than anyone on the crew, and this can be attributed to the fact that he’s strikingly handsome and he almost never says anything suggestive. But the liquor brings out his cheeky smiles. And it’s hard to look away from those muscles or flashing eyes.

Drinks wayyyy too much but has a super high tolerance, so he doesn’t usually act very drunk. He can drink the whole crew (and usually whole bar) under the table.

Always down for a drinking game and loves to bet on it because he knows he’ll win. He pouts when no one wants to participate because everyone can only lose to him so many times before they start to refuse for good.

Generally just down for gambling in general, but when he’s drunk he goes balls to the wall with it. And he actually doesn’t lose very much. Almost makes enough to pay off his tab.

While he doesn’t act very drunk, if you know him well enough you can tell when he’s too far gone. His eyes linger, he smiles harder, his glass empties faster, and he turns his body towards yours more with each passing second. His knee or thigh rests against yours and you’re so intoxicated with his presence that it’s hard to pay attention to his words.

Zoro orders more than he knows he should, and more than he knows he can pay for. Somehow it always works out—one of the crew members bails him out (usually Nami, and when she does, she adds 300% interest, but Zoro is too drunk to care).

Surprisingly polite to waitstaff, maybe a little curt at times.

It’s no secret that he just loves a good glass of sake, beer, wine, anything and everything with alcohol. One of his favorite things is to just sit back, relax, and drink. It would concern you if you didn’t know how strict his discipline and self-control are.

He gets extra handsy when he’s drunk (and possessive). He never crosses lines with you, but since you started seeing each other in an intimate capacity, he can’t take his hands off of you, especially when he’s drunk. Doesn’t care if he’s in public, doesn’t care if people are watching. The rest of the crew is shocked when they first witness him getting a rough handful of your ass.

Zoro pulls out pet names, which you’d assume is out of character. Somehow the liquor makes him sweet. “C’mere gorgeous.”

But it also makes him spicier. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

Loves sloppy make out sessions after he's had a few drinks. Also is prone to pulling you away somewhere and... well, you know. The man's a dog.

Zoro’s voice gets lower and huskier when he’s too far gone. It makes you feel some sort of way. And your bashfulness does not escape him.

But when he’s wayyyy drunk, he just falls asleep. Like he’ll pass out at the bar. He makes it back to the ship by himself usually, but you’ve had to shake the sleepy swordsman awake a couple of times.

“Zoro, get up. We’re going back to the ship.”

You have no idea how he can sleep in such a loud bar, and the bartender has been glaring at him for a good 20 minutes at this point.

“Wha-?” He raises his head and blinks sleep out of his eyes while he instinctively reaches for his (empty) pint. “Oh hey, pretty.” He mumbles and your heart does a flip for the 100th time that night.

Zoro gets MONSTER, BRUTAL hangovers. Next level. He doesn’t complain, per say, but he’ll walk around squinting, shielding his eyes from light, wincing, muttering curse words, and hissing in air through his teeth the whole time. Forces himself to train through the hangovers and gets grumpy about it.

Favorite drink: sake. Really nice sake.

Sanji: as doting as ever

Ohhh Sanji. He’s adorable when he’s drunk.

His whole face gets red and his hair gets a bit ruffled. He blushes more than usual and you can practically see his eyes turn into hearts when he looks at you.

Sanji drunk flirts wayyy more audaciously than Zoro, and when he’s drunk he actually spits mad game.

He’s incapable of doing so when he’s sober, but when he’s drunk he literally attracts a crowd of women. But his eyes are only for you.

If the bar has music and people are dancing, Sanji begs you to dance with him. He loves to twirl you around, feel your hand in his, and let loose. And he’s surprisingly good at it.

Orders bar food even though he’s continually unimpressed by it.

He somehow manages to weasel his way into the kitchen every time he sets foot in a bar. He wants to see what’s going on in there—when’s the last time they cleaned the stove? Are the knives sharp? What’s the mise en place setup? What’s their speciality? Why are they using cabernet sauvignon to cook, instead of a pinot noir that would obviously be the better choice? God forbid they use frozen french fries.

Inevitably, he ends up cooking something and either getting along with or fighting with the cooks.

Sometimes he even ends up behind the bar. He isn’t just a spectacular chef, he’s also good at making drinks. Obviously his are better than the bartender’s.

Smokes so many cigs when he’s drunk (because nothing trumps a drunk cigarette) >_>

When he isn’t fucking around in the kitchen or slinging cocktails, Sanji waits on you hand and foot. He gets you literally anything you desire when you’re at the bar, and when you’re back home he asks you (and everyone else) what food you’d like.

“Princess, would you like another cocktail?” and “Have you been drinking enough water, sweetheart?”

If a creepy guy at the bar so much as looks at you, let alone puts an unwanted hand on your arm or small of your back, Sanji flips his shit. “Hey asshole, watch it. Do that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

This goes without saying, but Sanji loves to cook when he’s drunk and somehow his food is even better than usual—and that isn’t because you’re drunk, too. It’s just that good.

“What would you like me to make you, my love?”

If you don’t know what particular dish you’re in the mood for, he makes you a feast comprised of your favorite foods.

Even if you request something elaborate, he has no problems with it. Cooking is his love language, and he puts extra love into your food.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off of you.” He praises you beyond belief, even when he’s at the stovetop. “You’re perfect, my angel.”

Sanji smothers you in kisses and wants to entwine his fingers with yours. He’s a huge hand holder and cuddler.

If you get way too drunk, he carries you to bed, helps you into some comfy clothes and makes sure you’re sleeping on your side. He’ll pet your hair and watch over you carefully. He’d never let you get to the point of throwing up, but just in case you do, he brings you the necessary supplies.

He sets out everything he thinks you could possibly want in case you wake up before him, and when he is awake, he brings you whatever you ask for. He’s attentive, never overbearing, thoughtful, and darling.

“You somehow get more beautiful every day,” he tells you first thing in the morning when you feel like shit from your hangover and (objectively) look a damn mess. “So perfect, like always.”

Favorite drink(s): bougie and carefully curated glass of pinot gris. Even better if it comes with complementary accoutrements. Also enjoys a negroni.

Ace: charming and protective

When Ace is drunk, he’s smooth, flirty, charming, polite, and a bit forward. But he gets just as rowdy as Luffy. God forbid they’re at the same bar.

He loves it when a bar has pool. He’s crazy good at it and begs everyone to play.

When the situation calls for it, he either breaks up bar fights or runs his mouth so much that he starts them. He’s sassy in general but also talks big game (that he can back up). Especially if someone starts slandering or talking out of their ass about someone he knows.

Somehow manages to gain control over the music every bar he walks into. And he has good playlists too. He hates it if the vibe is off so he takes it upon himself to remedy or prevent that.

Also a big fan of drinking games.

Weirdly excited if there is any opportunity to grill meat. Thinks it’s fun to fuck around with his powers and show off (but it doesn’t get too cringey or anything).

Won’t smoke any drunk cigs (like Sanji) but will accompany people outside and give them a light if they need one (he’s just so thoughtful!!!)

He’s wildly protective over you.

Makes you flustered nonstop and pays for everything. Making you flustered is like a sport to him.

And while he’s obsessed with you, he doesn’t cling to you at the bar or demand your attention every second. He wants you to have fun with your friends, but he also wants you to be safe, so he keeps a watchful eye.

Sings random bar pirate songs with his friends and crew and gets super goofy.

Raucous laughter. Spit-take level

When his cheeks are ruddy and his eyes are glazed over he looks painfully good. The flush makes his freckles pop and when he scrunches his nose up to laugh they’re emphasized even more. He looks ridiculously good. Like, squeeze your thighs together good.

Ace TEARS UP bar food when he’s drunk. He’s a beast for it. Can put away plates of fries, wings, pizza, pretzels, you name it. The man is a machine.

Loves to put a hand on your thigh when you’re sitting next to him. He does this sober but when he’s drunk it’s feels so much more intense.

Pulls out the sweetest pet names.

“How’s it going, sugar?”

“You drinking enough water, pumpkin?”

Among others: buttercup, darling, angel, princess, doll, etc.

His polite tendencies are multiplied by 1000 any time he gets a drop of alcohol in him.

Gets into sports (or strength) debates at bars.

Has a penchant for accidentally leaving stuff at bars, e.g. wallet. Gets embarrassed about it afterwards.

Ace’s body gets HOT when he’s drunk—his ability (or attention) to control his temperature slips a bit and he can sometimes forget to regulate himself (regarding his devil fruit). And while he’s physically hot, he doesn’t get sweaty or anything. And it’s nice to hold his hand when it’s warm, too. Super comforting.

He’s all hands (and lips) when he’s drunk, and when you let him/when neither of you are too wasted, but if you’re really drunk and try to initiate anything with him, he IMMEDIATELY puts a stop to it. He’s a gentleman (not implying that anyone mentioned here would do the opposite of this, just stressing it for Ace because I think he’d put a lot of intention and thought into this, along with Sanji).

He makes sure you don’t drink too much (and tries to do the same) because he hates seeing you miserable with a hangover. But if you do over-indulge, he’s there to bring you anything you need—ibuprophen, water, Pedialyte, more blankets, different clothes, food, literally anything you could think of.

When you’re out of bed the morning after, he literally chews people out for speaking too loudly around you when he knows you have a headache. He's attentive and gets grumpy (not towards you, of course) whenever you're feeling bad.

Favorite drink: whiskey or rum and coke. Beer guy, too, so might indulge in the occasional IPA and pretend like it tastes good.

Law: awkward, silly, and endearing

Frequently refuses to drink because he hates having his senses dulled in the slightest. But on rare occasions when he does drink, the whole crew has a blast.

His standoffish and cold disposition melts away when he has a few drinks in him.

The first time you witness his coldness melting away, you’re sitting around a table with the crew at a pub. He’s a couple drinks in, mean mugging like usual, deadpan and unamused. But someone says something ridiculously funny and he breaks into roaring laughter. You weren’t expecting that but everyone else is grinning because they love to see their captain happy.

When Law gets past a certain point he lets loose. It’s fun to see him mess around with the crew. He’ll laugh so hard he doubles over.

He's so sweet and tender inside. And that makes more of a prominent impression when he lets his guard down just a tad.

When he’s drunk he thinks Bepo is even cuter and goes a little overboard about it to the point where Bepo side eyes him >_> he thinks it’s weird to have his captain hang all over him sometimes. But Bepo is just so fluffy and cute!

When Law is intoxicated and you’re around, his face is covered in big, goofy, sweet smiles. Flashing eyes and lingering touches. He gets rosy cheeks and his hair gets messed up. Makes him look even better.

But he also has the tendency to make blisteringly intense eye contact. So strong and scathing that it makes you squirm in awkwardness if you aren’t used to it. He can’t help it though, he’s locked-in on how beautiful you are.

Surprisingly a fan of drinking games (no gambling though), but what he likes best is if a bar has old arcade games (air hockey and pool will suffice, if not). He could play them for hours and gets super excited about them. He knows all the facts and history behind each arcade game and will rant about it to anyone in earshot.

His ears perk up if he hears some nerdy shit. Did someone mention a comic he read when he was five? A commemorative coin that he has been on the hunt for? He’ll get to the bottom of it.

If he hears a bad take on his interests^^ he’ll sit down for a heated debate and he always wins.

Surprisingly cute when he’s wasted because he slurs the “-ya”

Watches the crew's water intake like a hawk. Reminds everyone to drink water and makes sure everyone has a glass of it at all times.

Will make sure the crew has enough bar food to eat, family-style.

Picks up the crew's huge tab without being fussy about it. Might pretend to be grumpy about it. But he does it lovingly because he cherishes his crew so much and it's a nice way to showcase that without having to say it out loud.

If you’re one on one, Law can be persuaded to talk about deep and personal things, or rather, he’s more comfortable speaking about them when he has some liquid courage in his veins.

The first time he got too drunk and you took care of him was before you started seeing each other. You practically had to carry him back to the Polar Tang. He almost left his hat at the bar, too.

Law was being uncharacteristically sweet to you all night. When you got back to his cabin, you helped him get into bed and brought him water. He (drunkenly) thanked you profusely and called you beautiful (you didn’t expect that).

The next morning he blushed bright red and was painfully awkward when he said thank you. He had a massive hangover and tried to hide it but you could tell every time he winced.

After that, Law figured out he could just use his devil fruit powers to remove the last traces of alcohol from his (or someone else's) systems, so it's safe to say that the Polar Tang doesn't experience hangovers much.

Favorite drink: Espresso martini.

tysm for reading ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

i'm back from my mini-hiatus! but i can't say i'll be posting regularly (or at all? idk) until mid december. (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ it's final papers and app season so i'm going to be getting it from all sides 😭 but holy shit i can't wait to go absolutely crazy when i'm free from those obligations!

see my masterlist if you'd like more~

#one piece headcanons #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #op fluff #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #portgas d ace x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #portgas d ace x you #one piece imagine #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n

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rafeysafterglow · 3 months ago

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snooping through rafe's phone while he's sleeping

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader cw: fluffff, crude words, nothing else really a/n: my first fluff fic ^_^ he looks so yummy in this pic

you have been dating the kook prince, rafe cameron, for a few months now and it definitely came with its challenges. being a pogue, a lot of his friends and family disapproved. but, rafe proved himself and stood by you the whole time. your relationship with him is secure, but, sometimes, your insecurities and doubts cloud your judgement. why would he want to be with you when he can have anyone on the island?

the overthinking on this specific night went on haywire. topper and kelce invited rafe to a party, but he declined, because he promised to stay in and watched movies with you. he never declines a reason to go party. so why would he now?

throughout the movie, he kept to himself, quiet. he hums in agreement when you voice an opinion and shrugs in answer when you ask him a question. after the movie, he immediately went to sleep. on the other hand, your eyes couldn't stay shut no matter how much you forced it to. beside you, rafe was in deep slumber with his arms around you and him snoring softly behind your ears.

you usually wouldn't do this, but the insecurities were eating inside you. you slowly lifted his heavy arms off your body which forced him to turn to the other side. he begins to stir but no signs of waking up. you reached over to his bedside table and grabbed his phone. the bright screen illuminated your face and a photo of you two at a bonfire stared back. it was a selfie that he took, he was kissing your cheek as your wide-teethed smile faced the camera. you faced the screen towards his sleeping face to open it. he didn't have many notifications and only one caught your eye. it was sent at 9:16 pm.

topper : broo this party is going crazy, you're missing out

topper : hope that pogue bitch is worth it

you clicked on the notification which took you to the messages app. you scrolled up until you see the first message of the day that topper sent at 6:03 pm.

topper : yo. party at kelce's tonite. gonna be crazy asf

rafe : no thanks, spending the night with my girl tonight

topper : bro r u serious? this is the second time ure blowing us off

topper : and for what? some lame pogue bitch

rafe : don't u fucking dare talk about her like that

rafe : leave her the fuck alone before i fuck u up

you left the chat and scrolled through his other chats. you were too focused on stalking each one that you didn't realize rafe waking up. he watched you for a minute before speaking. “find anything?”

you gasped in shock, your face turned beet root in embarrassment. you slowly handed rafe his phone back. “no...” you whispered. he took his phone from you and locked it before placing it back on the nightstand. “i'm sorry, i know it's wrong but you were being so quiet tonight i can't help but wonder.”

“baby, you know i love you,” he said as he pulled you into him. “i'm not doing a good job as your boyfriend if i'm making your pretty little head doubt.”

“no, it just me. i'm sorry,” you sigh out as he combs his fingers through your hair.

“next time, if i'm not acting right, you sort me out,” he says sternly. “and stop saying sorry.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafeysafterglow #rafe cameron masterlist #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe obx #rafe cameron outerbanks #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe fic #rafe fluff #drew starkey fanfic

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antiwhores · 3 months ago

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Rough and Fragile -

Bakugou x reader

Content: rough sex (hair pulling, biting, spanking, etc), SMUT!

Bakugou has fantasies of how aggressive he’d fuck you. The only problem is that he doesn’t want to hurt you… but what if you wanted to be hurt?

——

Its really hard for Bakugou to hold back for the first few times he fucks you.

Well, “fucks you” is an incorrect way to put it. It’s slow sex. Society would call it “making love”. It’s difficult to understand. Fucking can mean making love, but it can also mean just… fucking? Making love can mean fucking but it also means it’s filled with love.

That doesn’t too much matter to him. The only thing that matters is that he doesn’t hurt you.

Bakugou is, as we all know, a strong man. You, being a regular and not physically trained individual, are delicate to him. He sees you as fragile. He doesn’t want to break the most important part of his life.

That means that he has to hold back his urges to pull your hair, slam into you rough, slap your ass, bite you, and overall leave marks on your skin. He knows that it’s fucked up that he wants to hurt you. That’s why he doesn’t. And if that’s what it takes to keep you, then he’s willing to keep himself in check for the rest of his life.

But fuck, it’s probably the hardest thing he’s ever done.

He grits his teeth as he carefully moves his hips to connect with your pussy. His strokes are calculated, careful not to scare you but not careful enough to make it seem like he’s holding back.

It’s been a particularly hard day for him. His day off alined with yours so he got to wake up next to you. It was hard to leave you to go indulge in his morning workout. He had gotten back anxious to touch you. Busy schedules made sex impossible.

Due to his terrible luck, you were gone when he got back. He now remembers that you had to go grab some groceries with your spare time. You could’ve at least took him with you!

The day was full of turns of events. He waited for you to come back but eventually got bored. He took a quick walk around the neighborhood and when he got back you were in the shower. Just before you got out, he got a call from his agency reminding him of his schedule tomorrow. He got off the phone fifteen minutes later and immediately rushed to the bedroom to see you. You were in the bed snoring. He sighed and went to take a shower too since he was caked in sweat from his work out. He got out thirty minutes later to an empty bed. Turns out you had gone to get some soil for the plants.

When you two finally saw each other, it didn’t take long before you were below him.

He catches himself gripping you too hard due to a squeeze of your walls. He had to slow down, taking deep breaths in hopes to calm himself.

Unfortunately, today had him pent up to where he was loosing control.

He didn’t even notice when his hand had gripped your hair and pulled. He buried his face into your neck and started to speed up. He grabbed your hips and let off little pops from his palms. The smell of you distracted him from his vows. He was climbing his high better than ever before.

He finally snapped out of it when he felt your hands scrape his back. He stilled, his heart dropping.

It was over. Now you’d be scared of him and never talk to him again. His awful fantasies will drive you to move on to a guy that doesn’t want to hurt you while fucking you hard.

He hesitated while trying to find the proper words to apologize. You spoke first.

“What’s wrong?”

He was stunned. You weren’t freaked out?

“I just…”

He grit his teeth at his voice. He sounded desperate, whiny.

“Why’d you stop? Did I do something?”

The anxious look on your face wasn’t directed towards him, but to yourself. You had thought that you hadn’t reacted good enough. Were you not supposed to moan as loud as you did? Were you even supposed to like it?

“What? No. I just-“

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird-“

“You weren’t weird! It’s my fault. I just lost control.”

Your face fixed into a puzzled expression.

“What?”

He sighed.

“I want to hurt you. I want to fuck you rough, handle you rough. I don’t know why. I just want to ruin your hair and make marks all over your body. I’ve been holding back because I don’t want to see you in more pain than pleasure. I promise to never do it again if you give me another chance. I’m sorry, y/n.”

He was prepared for you to push him off. He looked for the inevitable terrified expression. A wince left him when you removed your hands for his shoulders.

He wasn’t expecting you to cup his face in your palms. You gently kiss his nose, your fingers trailing to glide down his abdomen.

“What if I want to be hurt?”

He doesn’t much remember what happened after that. He figures that he pounced on you, fucking you as rough as he’d dreamed of.

Your moans were louder than ever before. You were restrained by your wrists with his right hand. The other one pulled brutally at your hair. His cock abused your hole, ensuring you’d have a hard time walking tomorrow.

Every thrust had him gritting his teeth whilst your eyes fluttered. He unrestrained your hands while his travelled down to your ass, giving it a good slap. You moaned in confirmation so he slapped you again, this time adding some sparks.

Your nails dragged against his skin, surely leaving red marks. He’s never felt better, you agreed completely. You begged for him as you felt your high approaching. He felt his too, getting rougher by the second.

You let out a drawn out whine as you came, fingers pulling at his hair. The tightness of your orgasm against his cock immediately hit him with his own. He was attacked so suddenly that he had to bite into your shoulder to cope with the intense pleasure. A groan came from deep inside his chest as he filled your hole with cum.

His shaking stopped just after yours. He let the tension go when you relaxed. He felt the taste of iron in his mouth from the bite. Licking his lips with a smirk, he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Too rough for ya?”

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes.

“I can take whatever you give me and you know it!”

You weren’t the fragile girl he thought you were.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #enjoy #bakugou smut #bakugou thirst

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sevikasbooyahh · 6 months ago

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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

Just random random headcannons about my wife <3

She makes lots of noises; grunts, sighs, groans. It’s basically a language that only you can understand at this point.

“Hmph,” she grunted with her usual grumpy expression. “You want cuddles?” She nods her head in response.

Snores but denies it. It’s like when you’re sharing a hotel room with your family and your dad’s snoring keeps you awake; staring at the ceiling. You’ve told her multiple times but she just doesn’t believe it.

“You kept me awake all night,” you said in disbelief as your utterly exhausted eyes met hers. “Uh-huh, how? Do NOT say because I was snoring.””You were snoring.”

But in all seriousness, she started sleeping on her side—the snoring was due to her sleeping on her back.

Doesn’t care for public affection, not that she won’t slip her arm around your waist or have her hand on your thigh once in a while—but it isn’t often.

(Saw someone else say this)—absolutely loves dad jokes. She won’t laugh at anything else but dad jokes.

“Hey babe,” you slid next to her on the couch. “Hm?””What days are the strongest?“ you asked. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Saturday and Sunday,” you started to smile. “Why?” She was slightly curious. “‘Cause the rest are weekdays,” she couldn’t even hold it before she burst out laughing.

Takes her mechanical arm off before she goes to bed because she doesn’t wanna hurt you.

Tough with everyone else but you, Jinx and Isha (they’re alive and well).

Isha made a cheerful noise as she raised her tea cup. Sevika sat across from her, hunched over the small table, teacup in hand. She pretended to drink from it, “Mm, nice.”

Perfers actions over words—for example, her version of an apology is by doing more of what she should’ve done in the past. If she wasn’t spending much time with you before, she’d immediately take it upon herself to fix her schedule.

VERY protective, especially when you’re at The Last Drop, nothing escapes her vision.

Once, this guy attempted to flirt with you but before he could get a word out, he was immediately met with a deadly glare from her. She pulled you closer towards her with a raised eyebrow, “You got something to say?” That sent him babbling in fear, “Uh-no, no, of course not!—“”Get out of my sight.”

Claims she’s not an animal person but will come home with a kitten she found on the street.

“It wouldn’t stop following me,” she said while avoiding eye contact with you. You knew she was lying.

Sometimes when she comes back from work she’ll just collapse on the couch. She’s a busy woman, alright?

Jinx cut her hair then made fun of her afterwards.

Jinx cackled after she looked at the final product, “Sweetcheeks ain’t gonna love you now, are they?” The older woman simply grumbled under breath, “You’re the one who cut it.””Yeah and I made it ugly on purpose.”

You ended up loving her hair anyway.

Secretly likes when you lay on top of her; loves seeing how comfortable you are

She’s always warm; your personal heater

Somehow gives the best hugs—bear hugs, but is so awkward with it

Takes the longest showers known to mankind; once she gets in, be prepared to wait about an hour. Meanwhile, half the time it’s just her staring at the wall.

Will let Isha climb her on rare occasions; sometimes the girl gets insanely hyper and is moving all over the place.

Says she’s “not fond of kids” but has a soft spot for them.

A little boy with blue-dyed hair walked up to her while she was outside one day. “H-hi, can you please sign this?” He asked in a soft-spoken manner, showing a drawing, offered with a crayon. She didn’t respond but took the paper and signed her name on the back. Internally, she was in disbelief that this boy looked up to her in some way. “Thank you!” He gave a big smile before running back to his group of friends, happily showing them the signature. A twitch edged at the end of her mouth.

#ARCANE #i love sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevikasbooyahhworks #headcanons #sevika headcanon

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lndsismaeverything · 7 months ago

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Lnds reaction breaking the bed

An: hope y'all enjoy ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

Not proofread and kinda bit awkward at writing smut is I can't really write smut.... ゜:(つд⊂):゜。

When the bed broke, sylus continue pounding into your tight pussy . You try to stop him

" s-sylus...ah- STOP the bed! " but you let it go, as you are too lost in the pleasure .The bed wasn't important right now, you are sylus though

Sylus groans as the both reached your high very soon. Coming deep inside you filling you up to the brim, letting his cum ooze out of you

Sylus breathes heavily , seeing the mess he made out of u and the state of bed . He chuckled loudly.

He pulled out of you slowly and lean towards you " hope this is rough enough for you , sweetie . We went too hard and broke the bed, again . " he whisper to your ear

Yes, you and sylus went so hard that broke the bed again

" what will the salesman think if we go to buy a new bed the 4th time this month?"

Feeling the blood rush towards your face , you smack his chest feeling embarrassed

When the both of you hear a crack both of you stop what you where doing .

You try to calm your heavy breath, and get off zayne . Slowly sliding off of him

Zayne hisses at the cold air hits his cock as slides off you warm cunt

Zayne inspect the bed as see a crack on the side of the bed it wasn't that bad is a small repair .

" this is an easy fix " you said bending down to inspect it

" it's no use to repair it. I'll just buy a new one. A sturdy one that won't break . Even when you're riding me "

" shall we continue on the rocking chair? "You just shyly nodded, zayne just took your hand and lead you to the living room where the rocking chair is

You guys where way in to it that y'all didn't hear the bed leg got broken. Too focused on reaching your high.

When the both of you guys settled down, Xavier dick still snuggle in your cunt. you notice the bed being a bit tilted.

" is it me or is the bed leaning down?" You asked Xavier. But all you hear are Xavier soft snores, he was too tired down and fell asleep and you soon joined in.

" so the bed did broke " Xavier hold one of the bed legs for you to see which you frowned.

" now we have an excuse to buy that super soft and ultra comfy bed on the advertisement ''

" if the bed broke that means the neighbor must have heard us" you said as now your thinking how you can face your neighbors without feeling ashamed and the fact that there will be a broken bed on the dumpster adding more fuel to the fire

When the both of u fell from a angle because Rafayel was trusting hard from behind you into ur tight pussy so rough because of how the whole bed shook two bed legs broke off

The bed might as well be a rocking bed at the time when Rafayel filled you up before the bed broke.

" are you hurt? " you hear Rafayel concern voice, checking for any injuries bofore gently lifting you up

" yea I'm ok but I think we broke the bed "you point at the bed, after hearing that Rafayel immediately turned to the bed looking at the two broken legs.

At first his ears reded feeling a bit ashamed for manhandling you but that quickly turned into confidence and feeling proud . Breaking the bed boosted his ego for sure.

" guess I was too good at making my cutie feel good that the bed couldnt handle it"

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brailsthesmolgurl · 2 months ago

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VISAGE

PREVIEW: She thought she had it all within her grasp, with Sylus by her side, she is practically untouchable. However, there had always been a thought lurking in the back of her mind ever since Sylus had gotten himself acquainted with a deepspace hunter. For someone who is as mundane as y/n, with no skills and power, what would happen if she were to allow those fears to manifest? It burrows, it festers, rots her from inside out and perhaps, just perhaps, Sylus will no longer be her safe haven anymore.

WARNINGS: Heavy angst that makes your blood curdle, reader is not mc!, suggestive themes, heavy gore.

P.S: Yes I know darlings, it has been a long time since I have been updating my works on here. Work and a lack of motivation got to me T-T. Introducing the debutante for this piece, the daddy himself Sylus! This piece is heavily inspired by those storylines that involves romance and also somewhat slightly related to Howl's Moving Castle vibes? I dunno heh I have some weird ideas cooking in my brain sometimes, hence the lack of frontal lobe growth I guess :,) And yes, there shall be a part two to this but I needed to get this spat out first!

Part two

Dividers sourced from here!

There is always a saying that whenever one wakes up to the sound of birds chirping in the morning, thus marks the start of a beautiful, sunny day ahead. However, that is not the case for y/n when she wakes up to Mephisto trying his best to do 'chirpings' but ends up cawing like a dying bird. Y/n sighed, pushing herself off of the plush bed to invite whatever the weather has to offer to her. Mephisto is not a bird and it cannot sing, so it sure as hell cannot predict the weather. The curtains are drawn close, a reminder of her intimate sessions with her lover in the bed last night, privacy shielded behind two drapes of heavy fabric.

Yawning, she waved her hand in the air and Mephisto leaves the room as if on cue, not wanting to be punished by his master for having a peek at what belongs to him. Y/n pulled on her silk nightgown, the material cooling to her skin and touch and she waddled out of the room. The smell of breakfast immediately wafts into her nose, it smells like buttermilk pancakes and she is sure that he is the one that is preparing the breakfast as there are times when Sylus would cook himself rather than having the chef prep the meals.

The man himself owns a big kitchen, but his sheer height and built makes the kitchen feel mid to his size. Y/n quietly sneaks up behind him, watching him humming while manhandling the pan, flipping the pancakes with ease. As she was about to attack him with her hands, the man had already beaten her to it, his evol stopping her hands from touching the sides of his torso and he turned, hair messy from waking up but still as good looking as ever. "Good morning, y/n." Voice still raspy, he retreats his evol and leans down to peck her lips softly. "Your sneak attacks are too predictable."

"How did you even heard me coming? I made sure I am extra secretive this time." She pouted, bottom lips jutting out and arms crossed over her chest. She watched as the man turned from the stove to the counter, serving the slices of pancakes onto the plain white plates. The image of soft, jiggly pancakes set onto the dark marble countertop, framed within the kitchen of mostly dark colours made it stood out awkwardly. But given the opulent kitchen exhales nothing less of elegance, perhaps, a plate of pancakes is all that it needs to breath a sense of life and humanity within this nearly aphotic abode of Sylus'.

"The moment you stopped snoring is the moment I knew you were going to wake up soon enough." His taunt got her gasping in return, embarassment littered all over her face. Offended, she slapped his taut arm and he chuckled in return. "I admire your effort, but next time, it would just be better if you were to greet me normally and lessen your failure rates." He swiftly wrapped his arms around her small waist and carefully guided her towards the dining table, with a plate in his other free hand. "Here, have some of your favourite."

He walked back towards the kitchen to grab his plate and seated himself next to her. "Did you taught Mephistos on how to chirp?" She asked him as she was cutting into the pancake. Then, that marks the start for their seemingly mundane daily conversations. Chuckles and teasing jokes filled the atmosphere of the once sterile looking kitchen.

Back in the days, this man would never be the type to say yes to making meals of any kind for nary, let alone waking up at the crack of dawn to make breakfast, Sylus yields to nobody. One might also wonder how did she even got associated with him in the first place? As she is only a mundane and the furious leader of the N109 zone was never the type to lay eyes on someone who poses no utility to him. Or so that was what he had once strongly believed in.

Since the day he had laid eyes upon her, in the basement of another clan, tied up against a pole in a mangled fashion, his aether core ached, a cord so tight that it tugged against every fibre of his being. He had never felt this way about anyone, let alone a hostage like y/n. She looked frail, sick and is scared of everything and anything except for the darkness. Sylus recalled the time when he grabbed her arm and she started kicking with all of her might, her wails coming out in low moans, kicks that barely does any damage to insects. She is dying, but Sylus felt like he could not leave her alone. The undulating thumps of his aether core in his eye, was a rare occurence that it overthrew his logic of killing her to ease her of her pain.

The initial idea of bringing her back to nourish her back to health was perished when Sylus realised that he had slowly started to be smitten with her. Within the hollow and scrawny shell of hers, she still possesses a fighting spirit and it is only applicable when she thinks that her life is hanging off of the balance. Although at first Sylus had detested her, warning her multiple times that he only took her in out of pity. However, she had only thanked him, either it would be via verbally or physically, no snap backs, no retaliation, she is just plainly grateful to be alive even if she were to be held up in another unfamiliar place. She would prefer anything else than to be tortured back in that dank basement.

With a little digging, Sylus had only retrieved information about her lineage and everything about it seemed all too mundane for him to be suspicious of anything. On the day he had fished her out of that hell hole, he brought her straight to his handyman to get her checked out for any core abnormalities. There must be a reason why she would be held hostage, kept alive only to be tortured. Sylus likes a challenge, but this challenge holds a mystery that remains unraveled when the handyman came back with a reading that denotes her to be nothing special. When asked about how she was kidnapped, her pallor suggested that she probably had her memory wiped clean amidst the torture or due to extreme post traumatic stress disorder.

After a couple of weeks being around his abode, she had found out a method to thank him and it involves cooking. However, her cooking is absolutely horrible, but Sylus still eats it to uphold his sense of politesse. It took some courage and serious toilet trips for him to finally decide that it is time to get an in-house chef for meal preps. The chef's first day to work was met with a confused y/n, standing at the front of the door with a big kitchen knife aimed towards him.

After explanations were given from the threatened chef, she realised that Sylus did not enjoyed her cooking and that led her to sulk. It went on for days, masked behind her dull appearance and it forced Sylus to use his evol on her only then he realised that this girl had already gotten a grip on him. The leader of the N109 zone had softened up a lot, wanting to know what she has to think, what was going on behind her blank expressions.

The pity for her faltered day by day, and it was slowly replenished with infatuation towards this mundane that he had stayed with for months. Luke and Kieran also teased him sometimes, stating that the unwavering leader of theirs now has a soft spot. Sylus had stopped denying it to a certain extent, it was like the man had lost all sense of rationale when it comes to discussing about her. "Boss, you do like her don't you?" One of the twins would urge, Sylus can clearly imagine their wriggling eyebrows underneath those masks.

"That is none of your business." The leader would scoff, feigning ignorance towards his underlings when they would boo him for not being truthful to himself. As much as he enjoyed their curiosity, he does not feel the need to continue this conversation, as he is a man of few words. "I suggest you both find something to do before I lose my patience." And that sent the both of them careening out of his room in full speed.

"You said you have something to tend to tonight, so I suppose I will not be expecting you for dinner?" Cocking her head aside, a small, curious smile hung on her curved lips. Sylus catches her gaze, the woman he is looking at now being a whole different person than who she was when he first brought her back. Her eyes now gleamed with excitement whenever she sees him, her smile and laughter both contagious, and her heart only directs towards him and only him.

The man nodded. "Yes, I will be out with the hunter tonight." He laid down his fork and fetched a napkin from across the table. Afterwards, he leaned towards his lover slightly and rubbed the napkin across her lips, muttering under his breath about the slight brown tint of maple syrup she had left sitting on the corners of her upturned lips. "Is there something the matter?"

Y/n hesitated, not sure if she should be telling him about her opinion. Ever since she had gotten here, she had learned that voicing out opinions are allowed here and that she could have a say in anything she is unhappy about. With enough courage, it started out with rejection, then it went on to providing her own opinions and now it's time for her to be honest with her feelings. These are values that Sylus had taught her about, and being the stubborn man he is, he does not expect himself to be repeating his words.

"It's just, you had been spending a lot of time with her, Sylus." She blurted out, lips becoming numb after the sentence when she expected vituperation from the crimson-orbed lover of hers. Not that he had ever cursed at her, or had been abusive with her, but it was the probability of him doing so is what scares her. Furthermore, it is clear that she still harbors malicious memories of her past. Just the mere thought of being stuck in that basement had gotten her wincing uncomfortably.

"You mean that hunter?" His eyebrow curved upwards, head slightly tilted as he tried to get a better look at her. He could sense her hesitation, her regret after the end of her sentence. Swiftly, Sylus traced a finger down her temples, trailing downwards and leaving goosebumps in its trail till it stopped beneath her chin. He tilted her head upwards so that her gaze would be aligned with his, yet she was staring at the walls right behind him. "The hunter and I are tending to a ruckus that had happened downtown and she is helping me with the investigation."

His explanation although was to soothe her, it only got her feeling on edge, teeth chattered as she struggled to think logically. She had never felt this sort of emotion; one closely related to jealousy, possessiveness and envy. "Why her?" Her fists tightened, hidden beneath the table cloth. "I can be of use to your investigations too." Couple of blinks to push back the tears, she looked into his gaze, to search for an answer she was expecting. "Why does it have to be her?"

The man sighed, not being the type to want to overexplain issues and he stood up from his seat, collecting his plate at the same moment. "You are not exactly useful when it comes to an actual battlefield." Voice although calm, but words of his pierced through her, reminding her of the reality she is really in. Sylus finds no use in her other than her existing as a pretty little thing next to him. Like an eccentric jewel on display on a pedestal but could never get off of it because she is not 'useful'. An angered y/n stood up, her chair screeched against the hardwood flooring and she angrily stomped off, her usually hushed footsteps resonated through the ornated hallways and leaving Sylus sat alone in the kitchen.

If one were to wonder over what the man thinks, he also spoke of facts. He sees her not being an object to aid in his investigation, but he only views her as someone that he wants to protect, and wants to come home to. A prized possession of his, if one dares to admit. Sylus too got up from his seat and started to tail behind her, watching her outline from behind, disappearing into their shared chambers. He watched her plopped face down onto the pillow, her actions almost comical. "Y/n." He called out her name but received no response. As expected. "I do not find any means to utilise you." He approached her, finding his seat next to her outstretched legs. He then places his hand onto the back of her thigh, thumb drawing aimless circles. "In fact, I do not want to use you at all."

"Just get out." Her voice was muffled but her tone seethed with anger. "Just go and do whatever it is that you wanted to do with the hunter if she is much more worthy on the battlefield with you." Her voice cracked unintentionally at the end and Sylus sighed, hand leaving her thigh. He could tell that he had messed up, said something that he had failed to filter and caused her to be so upset. As much as Sylus would like to stay behind and to comfort her, the hunter and his mission awaits. A mission that he is dwelling into for the sake of y/n. A mission that would ensure her safety once and for all.

“I have to go now, but I promise that I will make it up to you later.” With a quick kiss to the back of her neck, she could only hear the heavy footsteps of his disappearing after the clicking shut of the door. A part of her did not want to be jealous just because he is doing business with another female counterpart. Another part of her however, shaped like a devil, whispered sinful nothings into her ear, coaxing her to be jealous, to practice distrust upon her relationship with Sylus just like how she never had the courage to trust anyone. Dissolving into her pillow, her tears blended into the mix of polyester and cotton, her sobs quiet but reverberated within the four walls of their shared room. Mephisto landed on a branch directly outside of her window, guarding her but quietly and patiently stayed outside whilst accompanying her with the whistling winds.

Sylus’ meet up with the deepspace hunter was supposedly to be nothing more than just business. After the raid where Sylus had rescued —much like kidnapped— y/n, deepspace hunters were on a hunt for y/n and a particular deepspace hunter stumbled upon a lead on Sylus being the raid leader and without fear, she confronted him only to land a deal between the both of them. Sylus did weighed on the deal, whether was it worth his effort to involve someone from the government but he knew that her database would come in handy for him to continue conducting raids on the gangs that had any connections to the capturing of his lover. You see, there is one thing that still bothers the white haired man from the day he got her back. Now, with the deepspace hunters on the hunt for her, it only further proved his suspicion and he is planning to utilise the deepspace hunter’s database to get to what he is actually seeking for.

So far, is Sylus impressed? No, because he knew that he could easily do that with the amount of moles he has in this undercity but he needed something to give the deepspace hunter a sense of purpose, to trail for a sense of achievement before he gets what he needs from her and then he shall disappear within the bat of an eye. To Sylus, it just makes the chase more interesting, especially with a deepspace hunter right within his grasp. A mere deepspace hunter like her poses no threat to him afterall. “Still nothing?” His voice rumbled through his chest as he stepped onto bits of broken glass, to get to the entryway that leads to the basement. They are currently at an abandoned motel, in search of the supposed gang members. But Sylus is here for another reason. A reply came from below and he hastened his steps to make it to the bottom.

“I found a safe here, but there are only some sketches, and maybe some formulations or reports for something technological?” The deepspace hunter’s voice hesitated, standing up and showing him the papers that she had found. “Why would these be in a safe? It seemed to be something out of a nightmare.” Sylus took the papers from her hand and studied them. The creature sketched onto the papers with charcoal resembled somewhat of an uncanny human being. Messy, seemingly rushed handwritings were etched onto the side to form notes. ‘DANGEROUS, UNSTABLE AND UNCONTAINABLE’ were the words that he was able to make out while the rest of it are scribbled formulations for who knows what. The creature was drawn out roughly, with hollow dark eyes that bled with tar black substance, elongated and bony body proportions, alongside with a forced smile to make up its final look. The ends of Sylus’ lips twitched as he stared at the drawing. It seemed almost…familiar to him but he just could not quite catch what it resembled.

“Have you ever thought maybe because it is nightmarish hence they would keep it in a safe?” He retorted, a sigh leaving his lips when he realised that common sense may not be equipped within the brains of some deepspace hunters. He folded the papers and shoved them into the pockets of his leather jacket, the deepspace hunter however, held out her hand and beckoned her palm at him, wanting the papers to be within her grasp. “It is better for me to hold onto it as it may not impose any usage for you deepspace hunters.” Seeing her unyielding palm, he continued. “If I received news about this creature you will be the first to know so you may report it back to your HQ.” Her pupils lit up at his suggestion, a sign of agreement.

Stepping out of the abandoned motel, they headed towards their respective vehicles. As they were about to hitch onto their rides, shots were fired. “Duck! We are getting ambushed!” The deepspace hunter shouted and then they both ducked behind their motorbikes, trying to cover themselves from bullets and to sought out the shooters amidst the dark. “There, behind the trees!” Right when she said that, another bullet ricochet and then followed a searing sizzle. Sylus took the opportunity to jump onto his bike and he roared the engine to life, twisting the handle and throttling the bike towards the deepspace hunter.

The wheels screeched in rejection against the tar road and he angled the bike towards the road. The fizzling sound of the broken exhaust notes a ticking time bomb for the bike. Sylus fuelled the bike of his and it started lurching forward, propagating him towards the road. Along the way, he grabbed the deepspace hunter by the neckline of her leather jacket and he heaved her onto his bike with the strength of only an arm. The female squeaked in surprise but quickly reacted by grabbing hold of his bike’s seat and hoisted herself up onto the back seat. Securing her arms around his waist, they both faded into the covers of the darkness as the bike they left behind went off with a deafening explosion.

“Where are we going?!” The deepspace hunter called out from behind, the wind beating against her rubicund cheeks as he shifted the gears to turn a sharp corner. Home. That was all the man could think of. Leaving his lover behind in shreds, with tears depicting strokes of her loneliness, rolled up in bundles of borrowed warmth from satin sheets is not the last scene he would want to encounter upon departing onto a mission. He felt like he had somewhat betrayed her, perhaps even, made her felt unwanted. This man now reeks of self guilt, silently cursing at himself only within the confines of his own mind. There, he left the woman behind him in obsolete silence. Yet, the direction of his motorbike suggested another location he had in his mind.

Y/n's chest felt tight, an unbearable weight pressed against her small body as she struggled to break free from the grasp of an unknown force. A voice travelled through the void, calling out for her. "You're sinking in the mire of your own twisted fate." The voice panned onto her, and her restrained wrists started burning, making her wince in response. "Love was never an option for you, bereft suits you better." An amorphous outline formed, bulky and large, symbolising nary of a man but more of a beast. Two orbs formed at the top of the silhouette and y/n recognised those eyes anywhere, the bright crimson orbs are hard to miss. "If you do not remember, fate always reminds." And a jaw snapped opened, darting straight towards her and she screamed.

Snapping herself awake in bed, y/n could feel her heart slamming against the walls of her chest cavity, begging to be set free. Her wrists still scorched, a memory she had never really freed herself from that dank dungeon. Her tears pierced the back of her eyes, vision blurring in the progress. There were no signs of Sylus in the room and the deep maroon walls swallowed her plangent cries. She could hear the voice echoed in her mind, muttering imprecations repetitively to put her under a trance. Y/n grabbed the roots of her hair and started to tug brutally, aching to pull off her scalp if she was given the chance to.

Luke and Kieran dashed in, horrified at her actions and they both did not hesitate, for they knew if Sylus comes back to this, they are both as good as cadavers. "Y/n!" They both shouted in sync, jumping onto the bed to restrain her but it only agonised her, her body hunched forward and tears spilled onto her clothes. None of the twins knew of her nightmares, how Sylus would sometimes wake up to her crying in the middle of the night, how the word 'somnambulist' was not just another fancy nickname their boss picked up from the lexicon to address her in a teasing manner, and how sometimes she would showcase uncontrolled enmity towards herself in the covers of the night by holding herself at gunpoint. It was also at times Sylus thought that bringing her out of the dungeon may just be the worst decision he has ever made but that did not stop him from wanting to pursue her, to put on the veil of a saint not just to quench his ego for a hero complex, but to hold love for someone who he used to love. The man may have been hurled at life multiple times, reincarnated into different lives and different statuses in different times, but one thing he knew for sure, is that in this life, he met a gaze that he could never forget even if his memories were wiped. For she, held that gaze. The linger that made him see himself, the linger that reminded him of every lifetime, that there is that someone that gave him the warmth that he could never quite grasp, a feel that he has to seek for in every parallel life of his.

"We have to call boss!" Kieran exclaimed, his hand kept rubbing her back in hopes of soothing her as she wailed into her palms. None of the twins knew what to do and Kieran had decided that patting her back could be the best way. Luke careened out of the room hastily, in search of his phone. His hands trembled with every press of a button and he pressed the phone to his ear when the dial tone goes through. However, the call did not manage to get through and Luke stumbled back into the room, his footsteps the only sounds heard throughout the empty manor and it made him wondered if Kieran had done some sort of voodoo magic to calm her cries down. "Luke, no!" Kieran's voice echoed from the room and there goes a deafening blast, sending Luke flying through the air and landing onto the floor like a cordless puppet.

Sylus wasted no time in arriving at the location of a secret auction. One where he knows that he would be able to find the man whom would bear the fair description of non compos mentis, a mad scientist who owns adulations for his 'creations' that shall be witnessed at this auction tonight. The hunter beside him craned her neck upwards, her mouth moving, hushed whispers followed. "Is this where we can find that crazy guy you mentioned just now?" She had been forced to change into an exquisite attire and was given a last minute identity to fit the occasion.

"No more questions from now on." Sylus' brusqueness tied the hunter's lips and she could sense his irritation radiating off of him. He offered his arm to her and she wrap one of her arms around it as they approached the grand entrance of the manor. The manor is gigantic, spanning probably a few acres of land, with patterned bonzai tress and manicured bushes lining the front yard and two large golden statues signifying a nude man and woman guarding the main door. The manor seemed to be a casting location straight out of a cult movie. A footman stood at the entryway, a clipboard in hand.

"Hello, welcome to the Prescott Manor." The footman probably around in his twenties spoke, his voice a welcoming baritone. "May I get your names please as this is an invitation ONLY party."

"Sylus," He replied swiftly and his gaze followed the footman's, landing on the female counterpart next to him. "This is my partner for the night." The footman nodded and trailed his pen on the piece of paper on the clipboard, reading through names before stopping at the alphabetical S and he ticked a small check box next to it.

Smiling, he greeted the both of them and ushered them towards a row of safes located next to the coat room. "Welcome Mr. Sylus and Miss MC to the Prescott Manor. Before you head in, we would like you to kindly surrender your electronic devices and any sort of weapons into any of the locker of your choice here." Seeing the slightly raised eyebrow of Sylus', the footman swallowed and quickly followed up with an inept explanation. "This is a charitable night and we have children around. It is to ensure the utmost safety of all of the guests tonight."

Both Sylus and the hunter started shedding themselves of their electronic devices and weapons. The locker slowly piling up with all of their belongings. "Miss, that includes that claymore tucked in your thigh holster." One of the footman's eye gleamed an unusual cerulean, indicating he is equipped with X-Ray vision to conduct body scans. The hunter scoffed and grabbed the claymore out of her thigh holster and chucked it into the locker, the clang of metals made the footman grinned in satisfaction.

The huge doorway welcomes guests into the expansive hall, chandeliers crafted out of translucent protocores hung high above the ceiling, shimmering and refracting patterned lights across the polished marble floors. One may be in awe at this view but Sylus is too used to this, not to mention he himself is an owner of a manor himself. The hunter however, was in a state of shock, her throat tightened as she struggled to not vomit. Glass cabinets arranged all over the hall displayed preserved creatures, not human nor beasts alike. It closely resembled a sick combination of genes from humans and wanderers.

"I am going to excuse myself." Hand slapped against her mouth, the hunter scampered off to the nearest toilet available while Sylus just rubs his nose bridge and sighed in disappointment. He certainly did not expect a hunter to have a weak stomach given the nature of their work.

A shadow loomed beside him and he was quick to snap his neck over. "Fancy seeing you here." The man of the hour, Dr. Prescott stood next to Sylus, height on par with the Onychinus leader. His piercing grey eyes, hidden behind a pair of sleek glasses pranced with curiosity as he wondered why the leader of Onychinus would appear at this auction for illegal hybrids. "What brings the most feared individual in the N109 zone to my humble abode?" His voice, smooth and commanding makes one hard to discern his true intentions.

The enigmatic doctor has always been one to operate in the shadows, always conducting experiments that makes life and death a blurred maze. In the zone full of villainy, Dr. Prescott stands out not just for his freaky science experiments, but also for his twisted advocation for 'bio-weapons' that shall reform warfares in the future. And that, makes even the nefarious Sylus look like a novice. However, it is his perilious experiments that grants him the trademark, and makes him an easy target.

Sylus adjusted his cufflinks then finally meet the eyes of the man standing next to him. "I came here for answers." His eyes narrowed. "Answers that you would be able to provide." Dr. Prescott, bemused with the demand, tilted his head upwards and started weaving through the crowd. Sylus followed in suit, his senses are heightened when he started noticing the crowd had their glances set on him. "However, I'd like to say, it's very daunting of you to step into my territory with that deepspace hunter."

Part two here!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lnds x reader #lnds angst #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #lads sylus #loveanddeepspace #lnds #lads #lads angst #lads x reader #lads fanfic #lads x non!mc reader #lads x you #lads x y/n #lads mc

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pocketsinfo · 4 days ago

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Si los ronquidos son algún tipo de enfermedad

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paarksunghoon · 2 months ago

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resignation (5)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: unrelated to this fic, trendwave sunghoon has me acting UP. but also when am i not when it comes to him…my bf fr

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: an incredible amount of sexual tension & fingering.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

The first thing you feel when you wake up is Sunghoon’s fingers brushing the hair from your eyes. The second is the warmth of his hand.

It startles you to see him sitting on the edge of the bed and so close to you. He chuckles at your reaction and watches you gather yourself when you remember you awoke in his guest bedroom and not your own.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

Even his morning voice sounds like Heaven with how deep and sultry it is. You blink the sleep away from your eyes and Sunghoon continues to cradle your face as you adjust to the morning light peeking through the window.

“What time is it?”

“A little past six. How’d you sleep?”

You nuzzle against his palm and close your eyes. You miss the way he smiles down at you. “Really well, actually. You rich people have this sleeping shit figured out.”

He caresses you again. “You snore like a little kitten.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Yes, love. You do.” You ignore him, and you ignore the pet name.

“We have to get to work, don’t we? I don’t have an extra outfit and I don’t feel like showing up in the clothes I wore yesterday.”

“We’ll stop by your apartment before going to work.”

You make a face. “We’ll be late.”

“I’m the boss,” he says. “I can tell you when to come in.”

“Oh? This is a first for you.”

“You need to take care of Pochi too, don’t you?”

“Hm. You’re right. I do miss my cat.”

Sunghoon bends down and kisses you like he’s done this a thousand times before. He’s slow with it, moving his lips in tandem with you until you’ve truly registered that he’s kissing you. It’s a new sensation. It’s weird, neither good nor bad, just different. Sunghoon’s breath is minty and when you pull away, you’re surprised when he lets out a small whine.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” you tell him when he leans in for another kiss. Your arms brace his shoulders and you try to keep him at bay. He doesn’t seem to care, though, and steals another kiss from you.

“You think I care about that?” Another kiss. Your cheeks heat up.

“I dunno. I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Kiss your boss and wake up in his arms?”

You roll your eyes and sit up, pushing him away while he laughs. “Dumbass. I haven’t kissed anybody in a long time.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

Looking at him makes your heart race for more reasons than one. Sunghoon is absolutely gorgeous from this angle, especially when he’s wearing casual clothes and sporting hair that looks like it hasn’t been brushed. He looks painfully normal instead of the high-demanding businessman you know him to be. Sunghoon looks almost approachable like this. If the two of you met under different circumstances, you might’ve gathered the courage to ask him out.

On the other hand, there aren’t many times you can say you’ve awoken in a man’s guest bedroom with gentle kisses being pressed upon your face. It’s the first time anybody has ever woken you up like this, and it took a great deal not to immediately panic and push him away. It’s scary how nice being doted on feels, and you’ve only gotten a little taste of it with Sunghoon kissing you as soon as you awoke.

This feels different than what you’re used to. Typically, Pochi makes her way to your face and nuzzles her own between your neck, the outside construction prevents you from falling back asleep when you're able to sleep in, and you usually wake up alone. What you’re not used to, however, is Sunghoon looking at you like he’s got stars in his eyes. The idea that anybody could look at you like that is alarming and unfamiliar.

“We’ve got plenty of time,” he says before bending down to touch your lips with his. “I can hear that little brain of yours working so hard.”

“My brain isn’t little.” He smiles against your mouth and gives your lips a peck.

“Mm. Definitely not. My smart girl. I can still hear you thinking, though.” Sunghoon’s hand touches your outer thigh and it sends a shiver up your body.

“Oh yeah? What am I thinking about?”

“How we’ll be late if we don’t leave in thirty minutes. You’re probably thinking about what clothes you have left in your closet and if Pochi ate breakfast.”

“…Am I that predictable?”

Sunghoon shakes his head and moves his hand up your thigh. “I’d like to think I’ve picked up a thing or two after knowing you all these years. You’re not the only one who observes, you know.”

“Hmph.”

“Relax for me, okay?” He brings his other hand up to your cheekbone and caresses that spot. “I’m not in a rush. We don’t have meetings or anything important on my docket today.”

“You looked at my calendar, didn’t you?”

He grins. “Might’ve taken a peek. It’s connected to mine anyway.”

Sunghoon’s blankets are keeping you warm and toasty, and his touch feels like you’re being lulled to sleep. You find yourself at odds with the idea that Sunghoon could convince you to relax at this hour, especially when you have to stop by your apartment before going into the office. It’s not like anyone would notice either. Sunghoon’s colleagues are in and out of the building all day, some of whom don’t show up until late morning or early afternoon on account of personal business. You aren’t worried about what other assistants might think either, as you’re the assistant who has been there the longest. With the hierarchy system in place, it’s more believable that you’re in business with Sunghoon than being in bed with him.

Yet, some part of you doesn’t like that you’re breaking the routine you’ve built over the years. You’ve never spent the night at anyone’s place, much less on a weekday, and you don’t enjoy the fact that you haven’t seen Pochi.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten my promise,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your cycle of thoughts. He’s perched on the side of the bed with his elbow resting comfortable on the pillows and you look at him quizzically.

“What promise?”

The look he gives you is akin to the way he looked at you last night. Suddenly, the memory of his hard dick straining against his sweatpants comes to mind. You’ve been so distracted by Sunghoon’s lips and sweet talking that you nearly forgot about the way he felt in between your legs. Sure, the fabric of your clothes acted as a barrier, but nothing could ever hide the way his dick felt pressed right against your covered cunt.

Sunghoon leans down close to your ear like he’s trying to tell you a secret. You feel his breath touch the shell of your ear and that alone is enough to make you squirm. He must know, and you can tell by the way Sunghoon digs his fingertips into your skin just a little.

“I told you I’d make you cum today. Will you let me?”

Your mouth runs dry. You look up at Sunghoon and there’s nothing humorous about the way he’s watching you. His eyes are a deep shade of brown that stare directly into yours like he’s trying to hold himself back from being too hasty. It’s almost alarming that he’s being so forward with you at this moment. There’s not a hint of shyness that you can detect, unlike how you feel with your heart beating too fast and your uneven breath.

Would it be so bad to indulge yourself in his request? It’s not like you’re getting any action beyond the quiet of your bedroom or with the only vibrator you bought yourself after a short stint of bad sex. The fact that he’s your boss is out the window. You know what his dickprint feels like and you’ve practically memorized the way his lips feel when they’re pressed against yours. There shouldn’t be any harm in letting Sunghoon pleasure you when that’s all he seems to want.

Sunghoon watches you spread your legs from underneath the covers and grins to himself. He helps push the comforter off just enough to expose your legs to him.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, fingers removing themselves from your thigh to the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing. He traces the hem and you suck in your stomach at the feeling of his hand being so close to where you crave him the most.

You consent quietly because of the intensity of his gaze. He looks like he’s moments away from devouring you whole, like a boa constrictor who’s locked eyes on its prey. The shorts come off and he tosses them behind him, and you try not to care that he’s haphazardly throwing clothes he’s taken off of your body to focus on the moment.

Like an instinct, you close your legs when you realize you’re only wearing underwear. They’re plain black cotton, nothing exceptionally fancy since you didn’t plan on having anyone see them. Sunghoon doesn’t rush hastily. He slips his large, warm hand between your knees and slowly guides himself up your legs until your body starts to relax.

He must feel how nervous you are. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the lack of intimacy you’ve received in the past couple of years. It’s like your body locks on itself at this foreign sensation of somebody else’s hand on your body, even if it’s consensual and yearned for.

He doesn’t rush, nor does he immediately push his hand towards your covered cunt. Sunghoon bends down to capture your mouth in a slow kiss, his plump lips pushing against yours like he’s trying to talk to you with his body. You’re not sure what to focus on—how smooth his hands are or how wet your mouth is becoming—but it all feels so good. For somebody who is as touch deprived as you are, it feels like a million sensations all at once.

Sunghoon moves up the expanse of your thigh when your body starts to relax against him. Whether it be the sound of your lips smacking echoing through the room or getting used to his hands, your legs start to part before him. Sunghoon doesn’t break the kiss like you think he will. His palm slides up your leg until the edge of his fingers barely brush against your panties, and that alone is enough to make you gasp against his lips.

“Want me there?” he asks through the kiss. “Need me there?”

You can barely pay attention to his words when his hand is hovering above you. Sunghoon’s fingers trace the outline of your covered cunt and his seductive caress makes you squirm and buck your hips with every passing touch. When you manage to nod, he rubs you with the pads of his finger.

Sunghoon’s touch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s determined, almost like he’s got a mission he needs to complete. His fingers aren’t hesitant and scared to touch you like men from your past. Sunghoon’s touch is calculated and meaningful. He’s urgent about it, but unlike all the times you’ve had sex before, this doesn’t feel like he’s trying to get you off as quickly as possible before he gets his turn.

Instead, it feels like Sunghoon might be as desperate as you are. He keeps a cool exterior for the most part and doesn’t allow others to see him let go of himself completely. You’ve been around him long enough to see cracks in his office persona, but Sunghoon maintains an air of professionalism when he’s not asking you to help him in his personal life, which doesn’t happen as often as people think it does.

He brushes his thumb over your sensitive clit and it has your hips bucking by his touch. You’re embarrassed by how much he’s turning you on, and he hasn’t done anything yet. Are you that depraved?

Before you know it, Sunghoon’s hand covers the entirety of your cunt. You marvel at how big his hands are and ask yourself why you’ve never noticed them before. He’s got his expensive black plated watch with silver accent on, the one he wears everyday without fail, and you tense. Something about Sunghoon’s accessory puts you in a frenzy.

“You’re so worked up,” he says with a short laugh. “When’s the last time you relaxed?”

“I don’t relax.”

He tuts. “That’s your first problem. You don’t let go.”

Well, it’s hard with so little time and too many obligations. Sunghoon probably knows it too, but that won’t stop him from reprimanding you for pushing yourself past your limit.

“God, you’re so wet already. I can feel you through your panties.” His words nearly have you choking. Since when is Sunghoon bold like this? Is he like this with other girls, too?

Sunghoon pushes them aside and eyes your bare cunt. It makes you feel shy, which isn’t something you feel very often when you’re with him. But at this moment, you feel like you’re out to gain some kind of approval from him because he’s looking at it like he’s trying to inspect it. Knowing you didn’t prepare yourself for him to look at your naked lap makes you feel somewhat awkward and unprepared, but Sunghoon looks like he couldn’t care less. You pulsate around him and he groans quietly when he notices.

“That’s so good,” Sunghoon mutters as the tips of his fingers slide down your entrance, coating himself in your wet slick. The subtle intrusion makes your head spin. “Do you always get this wet?”

“W-Well, it’s been a long time since anyone touched me the way you are.”

He grins. “Do your fingers not work?”

“Sunghoon. This is so embarrassing.” You try to cover your face with a spare pillow, but he laughs and tosses it away from you.

“Surely my fingers will do the job. Yours are so much smaller and shorter than mine.”

Sunghoon pushes his middle finger into you and stops when it’s half way inside. He watches you from where he sits and watches your breath hitch by how your chest has nearly stilled.

You don’t protest nor push him away and he takes it as a sign to push his finger deeper. Sunghoon feels your smooth walls envelop him the more he maneuvers his finger in and out of your pussy, and you don’t know if you love or hate the way Sunghoon is smiling down at you. It’s like he knows he’s got you underneath his spell when he’s got you acting like this.

“Doing so well,” Sunghoon mumbles, tongue licking the corners of his mouth as he salivates at the sight before him. His abdomen tenses and his dick swells in his pants. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding her from me.”

Your face warms up when he talks about your cunt like that. But it makes you gush even more, and it starts to splash onto Sunghoon’s wrist the more he thrusts into you.

He adds another finger and cherishes the deep, loud moan that comes from deep within your chest. Your hands brace his free arm when he picks up the pace until the entire room sounds like plat plat plat. Sunghoon expertly curves his finger until he’s reaching parts of you that you’ve always thought to be unreachable.

His forehead starts to sweat and his arm flexes. Every vein in his arm comes to your view and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers when you truly notice how well-built Sunghoon is. He’s got muscles and biceps that make you wonder what it would be like for him to pin you underneath his body.

“Shit,” you curse. “C-Can’t believe you’re good at this.”

He smiles wickedly. “I’m good at everything, aren’t I?”

“Not good at checking your texts. Not good at that.” You yelp when Sunghoon thrusts his fingers inside of you at a faster speed. It’s pushing you towards your orgasm the more he moves.

“What was that?” he asks with his ear turned towards you as you gasp for air. “What did you say?”

“Not good at texting.” You manage to say it between harsh breaths but it seems to egg him on even more. Sunghoon pushes his hand harder against you until the heel of his palm rubs against your clit.

“Not good at texting? Who says I need to text you, anyway?”

“I do,” you choke, holding onto his arm as your nails dig crescents into his skin. “You need me.”

“I need you?” His fingers don’t let up. You nod anyway.

“Brat,” Sunghoon mocks. “But you’re right. I do need you.”

The way you clench around him makes him yearn to see you come undone like the beautiful mess he knows you can be. His hand aches from fingering you at lightning speed, but he’ll be damned if he stops now.

“Need you to cum more than anything,” he says while chuckling. “I need that.”

Sunghoon says it halfway between desperation and with arrogance like he knows he’ll get what he wants. He knows you won’t fight him on it either because he knows how badly you want to cum. If not by the way you grip his body, then because you’ve mentioned how many times people have left you high and dry over the past few years. It seems unfair to edge you right now.

It doesn’t take much for you to crash. He stills his fingers when he realizes you’ve come to your orgasm, letting your hips rut against his palm as you chase your high. Coming undone before him is a beautiful sight to see and Sunghoon drinks in the way your hands move from his arm to the bedsheets underneath you. You try to grip onto them for stability as your hips grind against his hand while you finish on him.

When your eyes open, the room has gotten significantly lighter from the sun peeking through the sheer curtains. Sunghoon has made you forget about the time. You push your head up and pucker your lips for a kiss. He gives into your request right away and gently rubs your aching cunt, pushing your panties where they belong before kissing and touching you slowly.

“You’re so hot when you cum.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” you mutter against his kisses.

“Nuh uh. Just you.”

“Mhm. I’ll believe that for now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t get up until he’s sure you’ve returned to a state of consciousness and doesn’t leave your side until you sit up by yourself. He keeps his mouth attached to you while you steady your breath and find it in you not to feel completely mortified that you’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable in front of him. He doesn’t seem to hear your racing thoughts when you’re kissing him, and you feel your worries ebbing away. You don’t think you’re ready to decipher why that is.

He brings a rag soaked with warm water and pries your legs open with little resistance. Sunghoon gently wipes your inner thigh and pulls your panties aside again, cleaning your cum from your skin. This makes you feel more self conscious compared to his fingers rooted deep inside of you, but you try not to look away. Sunghoon looks calm and focused, like he’s getting paid a lot of money to look after you. He spends a bit of time making sure you’re all cleaned up before throwing the rag in an empty hamper.

“Let’s get going, hm?” Sunghoon says absentmindedly when you stand from the bed. He doesn’t make a fuss about his dick straining in his sweatpants and steps out of the room before you can even think about returning the favor. Sunghoon moves around his house like you’ve been there a million times before.

“We still need to go to your place. Is there a café by your place that you like? We can stop for breakfast before heading into the office.”

His nonchalance pleasantly surprises you. But you think you prefer his attentive care over being left alone in bed to deal with the aftermath of feeling alone once your partner has left the room. Sunghoon doesn’t leave until he’s sure you’re walking behind him.

It’s nice.

***

Nabi texts you just before you and Sunghoon leave his place to lets you know Pochi is back in your apartment with breakfast and a new bowl of water, and attached a cute video of Pochi jumping onto bee favorite spot on your couch. It makes you coo out loud, to which Sunghoon laughs at.

“You really love this cat, don’t you?”

“Pochi is my child, Sunghoon. Of course I love her.”

“When did you adopt her?”

“The third year I worked for you.” You’re stuck between looking at him and the scenery outside as he drives to your apartment. “I was pretty lonely after a bunch of my friends moved away from Seoul. My little brother has always told me I resemble a cat growing up and suggested I get one.”

“Sunoo, right?”

“Yeah. It’s funny though. When we were younger, our personalities were completely switched. I was the extrovert and he was the introvert. Seems like we changed over time.”

“Why does he think you’re like a cat?”

“I don’t like being around people very much and it’s hard for me to open up to strangers. He jokes that I have to be the one to warm up to people before anyone can really get to know me.”

“So, what, you need people to leave you alone before you decide you like them?”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“That’s funny. I think I’d describe you as a lion.”

“A lion?”

“Still a cat, just more powerful. You run the hell out of my inbox.”

You roll your eyes. “Haha. So funny, Sunghoon.”

“I’m serious! You’re so good with meeting new people and getting them under your fold. I would’ve never assumed you don’t like being around people with how good you are at making connections.”

“It’s for work, though. I turn on the charm because it’s good for business. At the end of the day, we all use each other just a little bit. In my personal life? I guess I can make a friend or two, but there’s never any time to meet new people.”

“This job eats you alive, doesn’t it? I feel the same way sometimes.”

“It’s fun and it makes my week interesting. I’ll give it that.”

“It’s time for something new, huh?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Sunghoon swallows the unwanted feelings that creep into his mind.

“How do I get your cat to like me?” he asks suddenly.

“My cat?”

“Yup. Who else?”

“Why do you want to get in her good graces?”

“I don’t want to get mauled when I meet her for the first time.”

You laugh. “You won’t get mauled, Sunghoon. She’s pretty shy and it takes her some time to get to know new people.”

“Sounds just like you.”

“Mhm. We’re twins.”

“Seriously, though,” he says, glancing at you. “I’ve never been around cats much. My parents are dog people. How do I get a cat to like me and not spook them?”

“Well, your best bet is to ignore their existence until they come up to you. They’re a hunting breed, you know. You shouldn’t make any sudden movements if you can help it. If you find yourself making eye contact with Pochi, blink slowly. It lets her know you aren’t a threat.”

“Ignore your cat?”

“Foolproof way to get her to be okay with you in the room if I’m not there.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to set me up.”

You gasp. “Why the hell would I do that?”

“I don’t know!” Sunghoon says with humor. “Maybe you’re trying to get back at me for all the years we’ve worked together. You and Pochi could’ve made an alliance to kill me.”

“Right,” you say sarcastically. “Me and my domesticated cat want to put a hit out on you, even though she’s a fraction of your size and I’m trying to help you find a new assistant.”

“Exactly. See? You’re following my logic.”

“You’re so stupid.”

Sunghoon pulls up to your complex and parks his car on the street underneath a large tree. You make a split second decision and invite him up to your apartment so he doesn’t have to wait in the car and waste his gas by keeping the engine on to avoid sitting in the frigid air. He doesn’t make a joke like you think he will, especially since Sunghoon made you come an hour ago. Instead, he nods and follows you through the front door.

The journey to your third floor apartment is nerve wracking. Is your apartment tidy enough? Is it clean? Is there any lingering dust that Sunghoon will notice? His house is far cleaner than your apartment will ever be, and while you pride yourself on keeping a tidy home, your two hands are no competition for the cleaning crew Sunghoon hires every week.

He seems excited enough. Sunghoon fills the silence by vocalizing his observations and particularly likes that your lobby has a state-of-the-art machine that can prepare coffee and espresso in various different ways. He likes that the mailroom is safeguarded by a touch key entrance and likes how the lobby is decorated.

When the two of you arrive at your apartment, you hear Pochi meowing from the other side of the door. To your pleasure, your space isn’t as messy as you thought it might be, save for the throw blanket you forgot to fold after watching an episode of Castlevania. Pochi jumps down from the armrest and waddles her way to your feet when Sunghoon enters your apartment and closes the door behind him.

You’re too busy locking the door and crouching down to sift your hand through her soft fur to notice Sunghoon surveilling your apartment like he’s in a museum. He sees your dark green couch and all of the decor you have in frames. The living room is far smaller than his, but he thinks it represents who you are perfectly.

“I missed you, baby,” you say as Sunghoon looks down to where your body is and takes off his shoes one by one while Pochi rubs her small body against your ankles. You’re cute when you talk like that.

“Why’d you name her ‘Pochi’?” he asks when you make your way deeper inside of your apartment. He watches you throw your jacket on the back of the couch while Pochi follows and climbs up the piece of furniture to get closer to you.

“Pochi means ‘spot’ in Japanese,” you tell him. “You see these spots on her ears? I thought she looked so cute and unique when I saw her at the animal shelter. We bonded pretty quickly and I would always kiss both of her ears when we were first getting to know each other. She gets annoyed if I don’t kiss both of them and only one.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Watch.”

Your lips come to touch her ear. You pull back soon after and Sunghoon watches Pochi sit back and watch you with the other side of her head like she’s waiting for the other kiss. When you don’t move to complete the routine, Pochi meows until you relent and kiss her other ear too.

“She’s so cute. Pochi might as well be my daughter with how well she listens to me.”

“You’d look cute with a girl.”

You look at Sunghoon, bewildered.

“You’re certifiably crazy, Park Sunghoon.”

He just shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me change my clothes and put some makeup on, then we can head out. Make yourself at home. It shouldn't be more than ten minutes.”

When you disappear, Sunghoon hears the faint click of your bedroom door and walks to your couch to sit. He can hear you walking in your room in the dead silence of the morning when Pochi looks at him like she’s trying to figure out if he’s a threat or not. He follows your instructions when she tilts her head and looks away from her.

Sunghoon notices pictures that line your fireplace. He doesn’t recognize anybody except for you, but adores the way he can see how much you’ve grown up. There are pictures of you and your childhood friends together, one of you he assumes is on vacation, and a few of you and your college friends littered throughout your space. It makes him realize there’s more to you than meets the eye, and for as long as he’s known you, Sunghoon gets the feeling he’s only scratched the surface.

He also tries not to think about the fact that his hands know what you feel like. Flashes of the early morning run through his mind. He loves the way you sound when you’re about to climax and had to keep himself in check before he made any rash decisions that the two of you would later regret. Sunghoon shifts in his seat and does his best to will his yearning because the last thing he wants is to sport a boner around Pochi, just for you to walk out and see him like that. What would you think of him then?

From the corner of Sunghoon’s eye, he sees Pochi grooming herself and tries to blink slowly when she makes eye contact with him. He feels silly and looks away when he starts to laugh at himself. In all of his years working with you, Sunghoon never thought he’d be playing nice with your cat.

You emerge from your bedroom looking polished, and Sunghoon is impressed you were able to pull yourself together in fifteen minutes.

“How do I look? Presentable enough?”

His eyes glance up and down your body.

“Stunning as ever.”

“Be serious, Sunghoon.”

He walks to you and puts both of his hands on your hips, dragging them down to your waist before pulling your body flush against his.

“I’m serious. So gorgeous.”

He learns in and slots his lips between yours, gently holding your body against himself. You get lost in it too, recalling the way Sunghoon’s fingers felt inside of you as he squeezes your body. The familiar ache emerges before you can even think about it, and you find yourself clenching against absolutely nothing. You think you’re somewhere between desperate and pathetic at this point, but Sunghoon can’t see or feel you down there for you to give a shit.

“We should get breakfast,” you mumble against his mouth.

“We should.” He doesn’t stop kissing you and your hands come to gently grip the lapel of his suit jacket.

“There’s a place around the corner. Killer croissants and good espresso.”

“Mhm.” Sunghoon pulls your arms away from his body to turn you around and press your ass right against his crotch, effectively caging you against his body while his lips litter short kisses down your neck. “Could eat you for breakfast, though.”

The moan that escapes your throat makes you feel embarrassed, but it makes Sunghoon’s pride swell.

“W-Work,” you choke out as Sunghoon’s hand touches you above your work trousers. His fingers make out the ridges of your folds and slots his index finger between them. “We need to get to work.”

“You’re no fun.” Sunghoon pouts and lets you go, but not without giving your cheek a kiss.

“You are such a fucking menace,” you say as you scold him. “In front of Pochi too?”

“She wasn’t even looking. Relax.”

You look and find that Pochi is indeed nowhere to be found. She’s perched on the windowsill behind your curtain and you breathe a short sigh of relief.

“Did you make nice with her?”

“I ignored her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good,” you say with a definite nod. “She’ll like you in no time.”

“I’m not so sure about that? It feels counterintuitive to ignore an animal if you want them to get to like you.”

“Cats and dogs are different, though.” You unlock your door and slip your shoes on at the same time after you’ve double checked that everything you need is in your work bag. “Dogs need love and affection all the time. Cats pick and choose when they want to receive it.”

“Is that why your brother calls you a cat? Because you’re picky about all the people you let into your life?”

He follows you out and watches you lock the door.

“Mhm. I wouldn’t have let you touch me if I didn’t want you to.”

“Is that so?”

“Don’t think you’re special just because you’re my boss, Park. Keep up.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

***

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#enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #park sunghoon x reader #enha x reader #kpop x reader #park sunghoon fanfiction #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #sunghoon #fic: resignation #my writing*

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minswriting · 6 months ago

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cm characters reaction to you waking them up with oral

nsfw | mdni | oral (f&m receiving), somnophilia?, etc.

aaron hotchner - waking aaron up with oral would be like 10/10 one of the best experiences. he’s a pretty light sleeper. he has to be for cases and such. so when he wakes up the moment your tongue circles around the tip of his cock, letting out a low groan. his hand would immediately go to your head, intertwining his fingers with the strands. “fuck, baby,” he’d moan in a low, exhausted voice that never fails to make your thighs clench. he would just relish in the feeling, letting you work your magic on his cock.

derek morgan - i like to think that derek is a deep ish sleeper. he’s the type to be snoring. so what’s the best way to get him to stop snoring? wake him up by sucking his dick of course. i feel like derek wouldn’t wake up until you add your hand into the mix, sucking him and jerking off whatever you can’t fit into your mouth. he’d wake up with a “god, babygirl,” while bucking his hips into your mouth.

emily prentiss - waking emily up with oral is AHHHHHH. she’s a whiner. i don’t even know how to properly explain it. you’d be sucking her clit, face buried in her cunt and emily would wake up when you dip your tongue into her hole. she’d whine, opening her eyes to look at you eating her out. because she needs to watch you of course. “please don’t stop,” she’d moan, holding your head to her cunt.

jennifer jareau - JJ is not a deep sleeper. so she would feel you move and would wake up. but she wouldn’t move or do anything until she feels your face between her thighs. the moment you started licking her cunt, she’s letting out a small chuckle that turns into a moan. and she’s like “well good morning to you,” with a sleepy smile on her lips. and you just reply by sucking on her clit and letting out a noise of your own.

spencer reid - spencer, although he prefers giving heed over anything else, will never say no to your mouth on his cock. the moment your mouth is going down on his length, he wakes up with a whimper. and as your tongue swirls on his tip, he’s letting out a sleepy whine, bucking his hips into your mouth. he’d lick his lips before parting them, letting out moans of pleasure as he looks down at you. “o-oh my god,” he’d moan as he’s gripping your hair, holding your head as he cums down your throat.

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jacksabbotts · 27 days ago

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spencer reid x fem!bsf!reader tw .' suggestive themes , nsfw ( mdi 18+ )

masterlist | series masterlist | dividers by @cafekitsune | join the taglist | part two

imagine having to share a bed with bsf!spence

it had been exactly four days, six hours and twenty-seven minutes since you had caused spencer yet another hard as a fucking rock boner in the most inopportune moment ( curse is damn eidetic memory ).

and you hadn’t said a word about it. hadn’t so much as even hinted that you had felt wrecked in the same way he’d felt ever since. you were as calm and collected and coolly unaware how much you riled him up with your mere presence ( spoiler alert—you knew exactly what you were doing ). it was all part of your plan to break dr. spencer reid’s resolve one earth shattering boner at a time.

you were still stewing comfortably in phase one of plan un—friend zone. you hadn’t expected to have so much fun teasing the absolute life out of spencer.

you had weaponized your innocence, verbally edged him until the point you thought he might combust into his pants, cumming in his pants like teenager.

‘did you think about me when you touched yourself on the jet?’ — that’s what you had asked, the question that almost did bring him to the point where he was about to ruin another pair of slacks.

then you had gone back to your paperwork as if you hadn’t spent the last hour torturing him with your body and your words. as if you hadn’t asked him if he’d thought about you while he pathetically stroked his cock in the fbi sanctioned private jet bathroom with every single one of his coworkers on the other side of the door.

and worst of all you you’d had spent the last four days ( granted the team had been called away on a case the next day after your little tease ) pretending for four nights, six hours and now thirty two minutes, that if your toes had gone any further up his thigh, you’d of felt the pre-cum he couldn’t stop from leaking out of his twitching cock.

like you hadn’t leaned over his desk just so he could get a glance at your bralette that was suspiciously in his favorite color. because of course you knew his favorite color, you were his best friend. his best friend that he routinely thought about choking with his—

‘alright, that’s it for tonight,’ hotch said, closing his file with a tired glance at the team. spencer visibly shook himself from his daydream only to be hit with it all over again when you smiled at him across from the table.

‘jj has the room assignments, get some sleep guys.’

everyone began gathering their things, the weight of the case thick in the air, the kind of tired that sits in your bones after hours of interviews and dead ends. jj, ever the coordinator, called out over the shuffle, ‘okay! I’ve got keys. reid, you’re with—‘

you already knew. you always roomed with spencer. but his heat nearly stopped as he listened to jj spill your name into the air. he should have known better though.

it was habit by now. you worked well together, slept on the same schedule, didn’t complain about each other’s snoring. it was practical, efficient. no one ever questioned it. until now.

spencer questioned everything now when it came to you. your feelings, your motives, whether or not you were purposefully edging and verbally overstimulating him.

jj tossed you your keycard with a smile. ‘room 214.’

you caught it easily and turned to spencer, who was already wide-eyed like she’d just said room 666. ‘come on,’ you said lightly, ‘don’t tell me you’re suddenly shy now.’

‘i’m not,” he lied immediately ( he was shy, overstimulated and already starting to feel a stirring in his pants — courtesy of his daydreams and the bright smile you had given him less than two minutes ago ).

the walk to the room was quiet. you were humming under your breath, more focused on how the carpet pattern didn’t match the wallpaper than the man next to you and spencer wondered how you stayed so calm—surely you felt flustered like him or was he just the odd one out as usual.

he, meanwhile, was spiraling.

two beds. two beds. two beds, he chanted internally like a prayer ( if only he could be so lucky ).

but when you swiped the key and pushed open the door, the room stared back with one glaring problem.

one. queen. bed.

spencer froze in the doorway. ‘that — there has to be a mistake.’

you laughed ( and if he hadn’t been absolutely fighting for his sanity and praying his cock to finally start to soften, he might have reveled in the sound ) you were already wheeling your suitcase in. ‘it’s fine. one night.”

it was definitely not fine. one hundred percent not fine.

he didn’t move. you raised your brows. ‘you gonna stand out there all night?’

spencer cleared his throat. ‘i could go talk to jj. maybe she can fix it.’ you plopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly. ‘it’s late. you think she’s gonna find a spare room at midnight?’

he knew he wasn’t being logical, but even the logical part of his brain was telling him to run for the hills. that it was a monumentally bad idea. that so many things could go wrong.

he hesitated. ‘well, i just—‘

you leaned back on your elbows, letting your shirt ride up ever so slightly. he wanted to scream fuck you because there was no way you had done that on accident and his cock was already paying the price. swelling against his zipper that was both unbelievable unbearable and exactly what he needed.

‘spencey. we’re adults. it’s not a big deal. i promise i won’t bite. unless you beg me to.’ his brain crashed. you smiled sweetly.

fuck you and fuck your overtly sexual mouth, he thought.

you stood up—and gone was his perfect view of your navel and belly button. you crossed the room, back to the front door and placed a hand on his chest. with the guise of fixing his chest because you were nothing but helpful. ‘do you want me to build you a pillow wall or something?’ you teased.

he opened his mouth—then closed it. ‘no,’ he said quickly. ‘no, i just—it’s fine. you’re right.’

He stepped in cautiously, like the bed was going to lunge at him but only to get your hands off of him before he exploded into a sweater vest pile on the ground topped with his spend he was about to let loose.

you watched him drag his suitcase to the corner of the room, movements stiff, controlled. so painfully polite.

when you returned from the bathroom, you wearing pajamas, he noted helplessly. thank god for pajamas—not that your were particularly very . . . covering. but he repeated :

not lingerie. not a bralette. pajamas. this is fine. we’re fine. we’re so very fu—

he swallowed as you bent down to tuck your day clothes into your go bag, your ass it what caught his eyes.

your ass that was suspiciously now close to his face.

your ass that was barely hidden by the tiny silk sleep shorts you called pajamas.

your ass that was now more skin than silk as you bent down.

your ass that was now making his khakis twitch.

‘don’t overthink it, spence.’ you stood to your full height again, spinning to face him. his gaze that had been glued to your ass, still unfocused as you turned. now instead of your ass in his eyes it was your tits.

your perfectly sculpted tits that sat bra-less under your silk tank pajama top. if his cock wasn’t hard before it definitely was now. ‘really, don’t overthink, your safe with me.’

yeah, safe with your shorts that only covered enough of your ass to qualify as shorts and your top that was rubbing deliciously against your bra-less tits, hardening nipples on full display for him to ogle.

yeah, he was about as safe with you as he was with an unsub.

you were a cold blooded liar.

soon you both got into bed.

or rather, you slid under the covers like you’d done it a hundred times before. calm, nonchalant, completely unfazed by the very warm, very tense man lying five inches away from you.

spencer lay on his back like he was in a coffin.

staring at the ceiling as if could give him salvation— stiff as a board.

you’d fallen asleep in less than five minutes. five—he knows because he’d counted.

he tried everything—closing his eyes, deep breathing, listing the top one hundred chemical elements in order of reactivity—nothing helped.

not when your thigh brushed his under the covers. not when you shifted and your tank top slipped just low enough for his peripheral vision to catch the curve of your chest. and definitely not when your arm flopped across his stomach with innocent, sleepy weight.

he nearly ascended on the spot.

it’s not intentional, he told himself, she’s just a touchy sleeper. This is fine. We’re still fine.

but he wasn’t fine.

he was still hard. painfully fucking hard. pre-cum leaking from his slit, almost enough to lean a little wet spot on the leg of his sleep pants. he let out a quiet sigh of absolute, internal despair and shifted ever so slightly toward the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb you.

which, apparently, was impossible.

you rolled. onto your stomach. right up next to him.

one knee bent slightly over his leg, your hip brushing his side. Your tank top had ridden up, the hem exposing your bare lower back.

god, he was so fucking fucked.

eventually—mercifully—spencer slipped into a shallow sleep. his brain gave up. his body gave out. and his last conscious thought was something along the lines of :

if i die in my sleep, let hotch give the eulogy. let penelope delete my browser history.

when he woke, it was still dark. the hotel room barely illuminated by the blinking red numbers of the bedside clock: 3:42 a.m.

and she was still on him.

like… on him on him

somewhere between 1:00 am and now, you had latched on like a sleepy little koala.

your head was buried in the crook of his shoulder, lips brushing his neck, and one arm curled possessively around his bicep.

but that wasn’t the problem.

the problem was your leg—hiked high over his pajama-clad thigh, your knee pressing precariously into his hard cock and your hips pressed firmly to him, and your body grinding.

rhythmic. slow. instinctive.

your breath was warm against his neck and your lips parted around a sound so soft he nearly missed it.

‘mmhm, oh spence . . . ’

he froze.

his whole body stiffened beneath you—except, unfortunately, the part of him that had no interest in restraint.

nope, nope, nope.

this is not real. this is a coma hallucination. i’m at the hospital. they found a tumor.

This cannot be happening.

but it was happening. it was still happening.

you sighed again, moaned again—this time into his neck, and he felt your lips brush his skin.

spencer’s brain short-circuited. there was nothing left. no thoughts. no theories. no defense mechanisms.

you shifted again, your hips rolling into his thigh—and that’s when he felt it.

heat. you were wet. soaking through your shorts. against his leg.

grinding still, gradually getting faster and faster —

he let out a breathless sound—something between a gasp and a prayer.

his hand hovered awkwardly above your waist—he wanted to push you away, he really did. but he also wanted to pull you closer. to see your face. to ask if you were dreaming of him or if you knew exactly what you were doing.

was this sleep? was this sin? was this the beginning of his actual mental breakdown? he didn’t know.

but he did know one thing :

if he didn’t move, if he didn’t stop this… he was going to have to change his pajamas. again.

THE END

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #professor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #fem!bsf!reader

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shouyuus · 7 months ago

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to kiss the sun

violet; 5,574 words; fluff and smut, no "y/n", wlw, tribbing, oral (r!receiving), face-riding, fingering (both receiving), switch!vi supremacy, service top!vi, p0rn with feelings (many MANY feelings), morning after vibes, gratuitously fluffy sex, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: the morning after vi shows up at your penthouse, you make good on your promise to show vi a few things you picked up at the brothel; sequel to counting stars

a/n: i didn't know writing smut could make me so soft. vi is needy and we must do our duty to give her everything she wants. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

─── Ⅵ SHE'S SO USED TO WAKING UP alone that for a second, the empty bed doesn’t feel unfamiliar. and then — flashes of the night before flicker like frames of a still-remembered dream behind her eyelids — your steady, delicate hands, the trickle of bath water like piano music against her skin, the gently perfumed mist that had hung in her chest for hours after that bath had ended.

your lips, her tongue, the promise of a morning just far away enough to forget.

vi shoots up, blinking sleep from her eyes. all her muscles feel sore, but there’s a warmth pulsing beneath her skin that she hasn’t felt in… years. her limbs are heavy, thick still with the honeyed dregs of dreams but the space next to her on the oceanic bed is vast, and the only sign that you’d been there the slightest ruffle of your silken sheets.

she wraps her arms around herself, her mind still swimming with memories of last night, even as a frown creases her forehead.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. promise.” that was what you’d said — and yet.

a hard-lined prickle works up the back of her throat and vi slumps back to bury her face in a large, fluffy pillow, letting out a groan. she feels like a child, petulant and wanting. but it doesn’t stem the clench in her stomach, the old, viperous voice in the back of her head that whispers —

see? everyone leaves you. always.

and then, from somewhere beyond the closed bedroom door, she hears… singing. and she’s tumbling out of bed before she can stop herself, her toes curling into the soft pashmina carpet, her fingers cold against the doorknob as she pushes through.

she finds you in the open kitchen, your back to her as you prod at something on the stove. the delicious smell of cooking meat hits her nose and immediately makes her mouth water. but she’s held still by the sight — you still wearing the large nightshirt from last night, your pink lace robe slipping off your shoulder as you sway back and forth on your tiptoes.

the lemon-yellow light spilling through your massive windows gilds you in morning-glory gold.

vi lets out a breath she doesn’t remember holding and pads her way towards you, looping both arms around your middle and burying her face in your neck.

“oh!” you gasp, turning slightly, your eyes wide, “i didn’t hear you —”

“i thought —” vi’s voice is cracked and gravely from sleep; she clears her throat and takes a breath, “you weren’t in bed when i woke up so —”

you let out a sound like a tiny laugh, setting down the spatula in your hand as you twist around in her arms. behind you, three fat sausages and a few eggs are cooking on a large flat pan.

“i didn’t wanna wake you up,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, “you looked like you were sleeping so well.”

vi sighs, trailing a knuckle along your cheek, even as she tugs you back for a longer kiss, a deeper kiss. one that has you gasping against her.

you giggle as she pulls away, a bit breathless. “and… you were snoring up a storm so —”

vi leans down to bite at your neck, fingers fisting in your hair to tug your head back for more access.

“i don’t snore.”

“wanna bet?”

vi pulls back with a crooked grin before her eyes flicker back to the pan. she swallows.

you turn, reaching for the spatula again.

“how do you like your eggs?”

“uh… not raw?”

you roll your eyes, bumping her with your hip even as she settles herself against your back, her chin resting on your shoulder again.

“i like mine over-easy, but i can make them scrambled too, if you want.” you scoot the sausages towards the side and flip over one of the bubbling eggs, the sizzle of the oil making vi’s stomach grumble loudly behind you.

“i’ve…” vi pauses, ghosting her lips over your shoulder, “no one’s ever really asked me that before so… i don’t… i don’t know.”

your hand pauses as you shuffle the sausages around the edges of the pan. and then —

“okay, then i’ll make one of each, and you can try both! then maybe tomorrow, i can poach a few — those are the really good ones where the yolk is all runny —”

“hey.”

vi twists your chin towards her; the kiss is sweet, but you can taste the fluttering desperation beneath her tongue, as if she’s searching for something within the warm caverns of your mouth, and that if she can just kiss you hard enough or long enough, she might just find it. when she pulls away this time, there’s something flickering in the pre-dawn blue of her eyes.

“vi?”

she shakes her head, her gaze skating along the contours of your face as if you were a painting she’d been trying to memorize.

“i just —” she swallows again, “this… all just feels too good to be true — like… like the whole thing’s a dream and i’m gonna wake up one day alone and —”

you smile as you press a hand to her cheek. “hey, hey — none of that now. the eggs are gonna overcook —” you turn back around to tend to breakfast, even as vi groans and digs her face into the nape of your neck, her fingers biting into the plush of your hips.

“and, it’s not a dream. but even if it were, what makes you think i wouldn’t just find you again after we both wake up?”

vi frowns as she lifts her head, watching as you plate the sausages and eggs, lifting up onto tip toe for the salt and pepper shakers on the shelf. she grins, loosening her arms ever so slightly to let you grab them before she’s pulling you into her again and you’re laughing in her arms.

“ugh. i’m never gonna win with you, huh princess?”

“nope — now help me carry this to the bedroom. i’m gonna pour us some drinks.”

vi watches in muted fascination as you lay out a breakfast tray on your pristine sheets and slot two bubbling glasses of what she’s sure is champagne into the carved out glass holders, and then motions for her to put down the large plate of food. she does, her expression both reverent and amused as you flop down onto the bed and tug the blankets up around your lap, patting the spot next to you.

“c’mon — before it goes cold!”

she slips beneath the covers again, crossing her legs as she watches you reach for your glass, the liquid inside shimmering with pale gold bubbles.

“bon appetit!” you say, grinning at her as you reach for a sausage with your hands. vi’s eyebrows hike up as you bring it to your lips, taking a bite, moaning around it as hot oil slicks down the side of your hand and you lean down to lick it back, the pink flash of your tongue making her stomach twist with an entirely different kind of hunger.

but, she decides, one indulgence at a time — and reaches for a sausage of her own, foregoing the knife and fork just as you had.

it’s delicious, sweet and salty, the fat bursting in her mouth making her shiver as she swallows. she’s never had anything so delicious, anything so truly indulgent. she scarfs down one sausage, and then reaches for another, pausing only to glance up at you. she finds you watching her with a smile and a sparkle in your eyes that looks so dangerously like love it makes her gut clench.

how long has it been since someone’s looked at her like that? like she was beautiful, like she was —

“someone worth looking at?” your words from the night before echos in her ears as she takes the second sausage with a sheepish grin, licking her lips of the oil.

“i can make more if you want,” you say, leaning back and sipping at your drink, “there’s plenty in the fridge, and i’ll make as many as you want.”

vi shakes her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “no, this is —” she reaches for her own glass, gulping down half in a single swig, coughing as the bubbles fizzle up her throat, “this is good —”

by the time she finishes the second sausage, you’re splitting the eggs with a knife and fork, your movement precise, as if she hadn’t just watched you lick sausage fat from your own wrist.

“here, try the eggs. this is the over easy, and this —” you push two piles of eggs towards her, one bleeding yellow yolk over the fine white china, the other a pile of fluffy sun-colored scramble, topped off with flecks of black pepper and large flakes of white seasalt.

vi scoops up one, moaning around the runny yolk, before shoveling a bite of the scrambled egg into her mouth.

“holy shit — i mean, they’re both really good —” she leans down to scrape up some more, licking the fork clean with a happy little hum.

“is there one you like better?” you ask, and vi looks up, a final bite of egg poised halfway to her mouth. she grins as she sets down her fork and pushes the breakfast tray gently out of the way, tugging you towards her.

“yeah well, sure but… ‘s not like i can focus on that when you’re sitting right there looking like breakfast, lunch, and dinner —” she grazes her lips along the length of your neck, nuzzling into the soft spot right behind your ear, breathing you in like a woman lost. and she is — isn’t she? lost in this paradise you’ve built for her, lost in the feeling of you, the irrefutable knowledge that you’re here, and that you’re here to stay.

“y-you seemed pretty focused c-cleaning that plate just a second ago — o-oh —!”

you gasp as she pins you beneath her, your leg knocking against the breakfast tray, her mouth hot along your collarbone.

“v-vi — the china —”

“mm — fuck — fine —” she pulls away from you, keeping you pinned beneath her with her thighs, thick and strong, clamped on either side of your hips as she twists around to set the breakfast tray on the floor before turning back with a smirk. “there. happy now, princess?”

you nod, smiling up at her as she returns to her single-minded task of kissing your throat, sighing against your skin as she tugs your robe from your shoulders and inches her fingers beneath the hem of your nightshirt.

“c’mon princess — didn’t you promise me you were gonna show me all the other things you learned at the brothel, hm?”

you gasp as she tugs your nightshirt up off your torso, leaving you in nothing but your lacy pink panties, your cheeks flushed, your nipples pebbling in the sudden chill.

“mm… never gets old…” vi says, reaching down to tweak at one of them, grinning as you whine.

“vi… vi, please —” you reach out for her, fingers gentle against her tensing stomach as she groans and leans down to kiss you. but before she can, the world flips and she’s hissing out a breath, blinking in confusion as you rock your hips, sitting astride her now, one palm laid flat against her sternum, the other cupping her cheek.

vi stares up at you, her eyes wide but you can see the way her pupils dilate, her gaze going hungry.

you offer her a tiny, knife-flash grin, trailing your thumb along her skin till it grazes her bottom lip.

“there… that’s one trick they taught me… would you like to see some others?”

vi moans, her head rolling back as you rock your hips down over hers again, her hands shooting up to grasp at your waist, her eyes fluttering shut.

“holy fuck, yeah —” she helps ruck your hips down, fingers digging into your flesh as you reach down to gently tug her chin back down, whispering against her lips —

“eyes on me, violet…”

her eyes flicker open, a soft whimper curling up her throat as you shift your hips down and your clothed cores meet through the layers of fabric.

“want you to watch me when i’m making you feel good.”

“sweet jesus…” vi breathes, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as you reach down to inch her shirt up as well, tilting your head slightly as you wait for her to lift her hands. you toss the shirt off the other side of the bed, breathing out as you feast your eyes on the sight of her, splayed out beneath you, a classical artist’s dream of solid muscle and ink-kissed skin.

“you know, they used to carve statues to immortalize bodies like yours…” you say, pressing a line of unhurried kisses to her shoulder, trailing across her collarbones, down the divot of her breasts, pausing over each nipple, laving your tongue over the tiny metal rings there, warming them on your tongue before popping off and making your patient way down the length of her torso. you trace the shape of her stomach muscles with the tip of your tongue, graze your teeth against the delicate skin right above the waistband of her shorts, eyes always cast up at her face, watching for the minute reactions that she’s always been so generous to give.

“eyes, violet,” you remind her gently as you suck a hickey over her hipbone and her entire pelvis jerks up towards you. she huffs out a breath, forcing her eyes open to look down at you, a pout threatening her mouth even as she chews on her bottom lip.

“shit princess — you can’t — i — it feels too good, i —”

“i know,” you shush, holding her gaze as you shift to slip the shorts from her legs, discarding them over your shoulder with a cock of your head like a curious little bird, looking her over with bright eyes.

“but i’ll stop if you look away again, okay?” you chide, grazing a thumb along her already slickened folds, circling her clit once just to see the way her jaw drops open, her eyes rolling back. you pull your hand away and she jerks up, a hand shooting out to grab your arm.

“sweet fuck, mm — c’mere —”

you hitch an eyebrow, watching her as she tugs you towards her, melding her mouth with yours, the self-same desperation you’d tasted earlier blossoming behind the tombstones of her teeth like words she’s never had the courage to say aloud. all her needs, all her wants, pressed there like flowers between the pages of her story, and you — leaning in, opening your mouth, kissing her back like you’d love nothing more than to see them, to read them, to listen, to learn.

you let her kiss you, and you let yourself be kissed. you let her pour herself into you with her fingers in your hair, and your hands soft against her neck, running soothing circles into the pulse beneath her jaw. when she finally pulls back, your lips are wet, her chest is heaving. there’s a strange, fractured light in her eyes as she presses her forehead against yours and breathes out, long and deep.

“you okay?” you ask.

“mm. yeah… i just…” she sucks in another breath, “i — uh — i’m not the best with patience —”

you laugh, “you don’t say.”

she chuckles, allowing herself to be pressed back into the sheets. you shift your legs, hooking one of her over one of yours, shifting till your clothed cunt presses against her bare one. she hisses, her head tipping back. a second later, you roll your hips down, the friction making the coil in your stomach knot over itself, but your eyes are still fixed on vi, on the trembling expression painted across her features.

“violet… c’mon, eyes…” is all you say, your voice patient hush as you slowly work yourself against her.

she lets out a pitched whine, but she forces her eyes back onto you, the gentle curve of your body as you grind your pussy to hers. she bites her lips at the wetness she can feel collecting there — hers and yours, the way you don’t hide your pleasure from her, the little hitches in your breaths, the pink flush of color washing into your cheeks, even as you swirl your hips, your eyes never wavering from her face as her mouth falls open around a moan.

“shit — god, that’s —”

“good?” you ask, leaning over her, your hair a liquid spill across your shoulders.

she nods, her mind too blissed out to really speak as you reach down to tweak at one of her nipples, tugging lightly on the ring, your other hand splayed out on her stomach, keeping you steady.

“y-yeah — really — really fuckin’ good —” she says, nearly keening as you pull back to tug your panties from you, the sight of your wetness gleaming on the lace making her skin prickle with heat. she lets you wrap your hand around one of her wrists, pulling it up towards you, brushing your lips over her knuckles before pressing two of her fingers into your mouth.

you moan around them, even as she bites her lips, her eyes half-hooded, but she heeds your earlier warnings and doesn’t look away, doesn’t let them drop shut even as you pull her fingers from your lips with a soft pop and bring them to where your still slowly grinding against her.

“show me what makes you feel good.”

“n-ngh — fuck fuck fuck —” vi chants, canting her hips up to meet yours, even as you cup one of her hipbones in your palm to steady her, watching as she presses her fingers to her clit and draws them in small, quick circles, her thumb flicking up to graze against yours.

your hips stutter and you let out a gasp, the heat in your abdomen solid and familiar.

“look so good, princess — mm —” a tiny frown creases her forehead as she quickens her pace, but you tug her fingers away, swallowing her momentary whine with a kiss, replacing her fingers with your own. you mirror her movements, relishing in the way she works her hips up against you, her movements threaded with urgency, her tongue pressing into your mouth as you slip your fingers down the seam of her cunt to dip inside her.

immediately, she keens, jerking you down as her hips ruck up.

“mm… we’re making a mess,” you say, your voice almost teasing as you pull back to smile at her, your fingers still teasing her sodden folds, “but that’s okay — i was going to do the laundry today anyway.”

you dip down, sucking gently at the skin of her neck, slowly fucking two fingers into her, feeling her clamp down around you, her head tossing back into the pillows as you sit back up and cluck your tongue, fingers slowing ever so slightly.

she peers up at you, her gaze hazy and unfocused, her lashes fluttering.

“there’s those pretty eyes,” you say with a grin, before pushing a third finger into her and curling them up.

“f-fuck!”

you press your palm against her clit, working your fingers inside her till she’s scrabbling at your arm, pulling you down roughly to mouth at your lips, whimpering and panting, her breath fanning hot as she holds you to her by the back of your neck.

“fuck, sweetness — i’m gonna — i’m gonna cum —”

you allow yourself a soft moan, nodding, quickening your pace as you dig the fingers of your free hand into her hip, a dull ache building between your own thighs as you watch vi’s lashes flutter.

“good,” you breath, “cum for me, vi — lemme see you cum for me —”

“oh — oh fuck — princess, i — a*-ah — ah — ah!*”

you fuck her slowly through her orgasm, kissing her slow and languid, swallowing around her whimpers and moans, her hips kicking as you tease your thumb over her oversensitive clit.

“holy shit…” she laughs, letting her head thump back into the pillows as you pull your fingers from her and lick them clean. “that was —” she licks her lips, swallowing thickly.

“the girls at the brothel taught me well,” you say, giggling when she tugs you into her arms, nosing against your cheek.

“they sure did but —” her fingers trail down the length of your body to cup your cunt, “i wanna make you feel good too, pretty girl.”

your breath hitches; your lashes flicker.

“mm… so damn wet, and all for me…” she says, tugging you over her shoulders, spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, groaning at the sight of your slick folds.

“c-can you blame me?” you ask, gasping as she pulls you down over her mouth, her fingers caged around your thighs. you let out a soft whimper as you feel her lick a long strip over your cunt, her nose nudging your clit as she moans into you. “o*-oh —*” you squeak as her tongue pushes into you, and you feel her rocking you down, pressing you against her so hard you’re afraid she might suffocate.

you steady yourself against the wall, reaching down to card your fingers through her hair, the color still darker than it used to be, the roots still inked in black.

vi’s cocks an eyebrow up at you from between your legs, and you can almost feel her smirk before you feel her wrap her lips around your clit to give it a hard suck. you yelp, hips jumping even as she yanks you back against her, fucking her tongue into you so hard your stomach clenches with the pleasure.

“oh — oh — ngh — violet —”

“th-that’s it, princess — so hot riding my face — mm — mmph —”

you rock your hips over her mouth, the bright tingle of heat circling through you, coiling tighter and tighter as she eats you out with a wolfish hunger, groaning into your folds as your pace goes jerky and the pin-prick of pleasure stretches inside you, ballooning out till you’re clenching over her face, fluttering around her tongue as she licks eagerly at your wetness, pooling out of you onto her chin and cheeks.

“fuck, you taste — taste good —” she mumbles, lips chasing your cunt even as you try to lift yourself up, her arms flexing as she pulls you back down.

“w-wait — vi — it’s too — too much —”

you squeak as she sits up, flipping the pair of you to finally pin you beneath her, a lopsided grin on her face, a dark, dangerous look in her eyes as she wipes her lips on the back of her hand.

“yeah? but, i’m still hungry, princess —” she wastes no time in prying apart your legs, swearing under her breath as she sees your pussy fluttering around nothing, her fingers shoving into you a second later, “and i mean — i haven’t been trained at a brothel but — been to babette’s enough times to know a thing or two —”

her smirk is sharp, even though her eyes are soft as she watches you writhe beneath her, the remnants of her orgasm still warm in her veins. a furious, ticking urge is pressing up the back of her throat as she fucks you open on her fingers, a savage want blooming inside her chest.

she wants to see you fall apart for her, over and over and over again, wants to make you scream till your voice gives out, wants to swallow around all your pretty little noises — she wants, she wants, she wants —

and then, a softer, deeper desire creeping up, up through her ribs to pool at the base of her tongue, slick as poison —

she wants you to do the same to her, just as you’ve already done.

the want is so huge it terrifies her, makes her chest squeeze even as she leans down to kiss you again, reveling in the taste of her own name on your tongue, dripping from the corners of your mouth like a hymn or a prayer.

it’s a want so vast it won’t fit behind her ribs — that she wants you. in every single way it’s possible to want a person.

and, she wants you to want her too.

“fuck, princess —” she grits out, pulling away just far enough to watch the pleasure crease your forehead, “you want it? tell me — tell me what you want —”

you’re breathless, exhalant, your fingers curling in her hair as you jerk up against her.

“w-want — want this — want you — violet — vi — vi —!”

she groans at the way you say her name, letting her head drop into you shoulder for a second before she curls her fingers and fucks them into you so hard she feels her forearms strain.

“yeah? tell me again, pretty girl —” she lifts her head to find your eyes, and for a split second, she sees herself as you might — disheveled and wild-eyed but the softness of her features is unmistakable, the way her lips are parted, her brows furrowed as she watches you.

your eyes find hers, and your breath is trembling when you say, in a voice that’s so much sweeter than the harshness of her movements, than the toe-curling sound of your wetness as it squelches around her hand, your slick dripping down her wrist and onto the sheets.

“i — i want you, violet — a-all of you — please —”

“fuck, cum for me princess — i — i want — i need to see you cum for me — please, god —”

there’s a whine high in her voice even as you spasm around her, the feeling of your cunt milking at her fingers making her shiver. her movements slow as time itself seems to unspool around you both, your bodies so much more than the sums of their parts — so much skin and breath, so much honey and rest.

you laugh, an indulgent, tickling sound, bubbling up from you as you breathe, running your fingers through her hair as she slowly tugs her fingers from you.

“shit… you came a lot,” she says, laughing with you as you nod and reach for a tissue on the bedside table and hand it to her. she wipes at her hands first, and then her face. and then, she leans off the bed to grab the plate with the leftover eggs, shoveling them into her mouth.

you lay there, watching her with a bitten-back smile. she pauses as she catches your eye.

“sorry — oops —” a bit of scrambled egg nearly tumbles out of her mouth. she licks it back and swallows, setting the plate back down to collapse next to you. “just… didn’t wanna waste it, y’know?”

you giggle, curling onto your side and resting a hand on her chest, flicking at one of her nipple rings.

“hey. quit that.”

you grin, shifting your hand down to rest against her stomach. she reaches up to cover your hand with hers, your fingers lacing easily as she turns to face you.

“still hungry?”

vi smiles, shifting closer to you on the sheets, the pair of you lying face to face, bodies curled in towards one another like mirrored images.

“nah. think i’m good now. that was a good breakfast.”

you laugh, walking your fingers along the bend of her waist, pulling yourself forward till you’re nuzzling into her collarbone. she opens her arms and loops them around you.

“yeah? good. so, have we got a verdict on the eggs?”

vi hums, considering.

“i like the scrambled ones. but… i thought you said you were gonna make something else for breakfast tomorrow?”

she hooks an ankle over yours and you shift against her, softening into her chest.

“yeah, ‘m planning on making a few soft boiled ones, and a few poached ones. they’re kind of similar, but also super different.”

“yeah? how so?”

her fingers trace soft circles into the bare skin of your back; yours trail absently over the dark lines of her tattoo, outlining the cogs and wheels and puffs of tinted clouds.

you try your best to explain the differences between a soft boiled egg and a poached egg, and it ends with the pair of you laughing, vi shaking her head even as she edges closer to you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“i could listen to you talk all day, princess.”

you crinkle your nose, “careful what you wish for.”

“mm,” vi hums, leaning in till your foreheads touch and her eyes flutter shut again, “thanks, though.”

“hm? for what?”

she breathes in, then out.

“for… all this. for breakfast, for…” she lets her voice trail off as her eyes blink open to find you watching her.

“you don’t need to thank me,” you say, inching ever closer, so close now that she can feel the heat of your words over her skin as you speak them, “i meant what i said last night — whatever’s mine is yours and…” you reach up to cup her cheek, “that i want all this because… i want you.”

vi closes her eyes, squeezing them shut as that soft tendril of desire once against pushes up against the back of her throat. she makes a sound caught between a sigh and whine, pulling you into her, wrapping both arms around you and burying her face in your hair.

“gods… you drive me insane.”

you chuckle against her collarbone, blowing an errant strand of pink hair from your mouth.

“if it’ll make you stay with me then…” your voice is slightly muffled, but vi hears it all the same, feels the rumble of it from your chest to hers, the honesty in them shaking her to the core.

she squeezes you once, long and hard, before letting you go.

“careful what you wish for,” she says, echoing your words back at you.

you smile, a simple thing, leaning up to brush your lips to hers. it’s a soft kiss, one that’s devoid of the pulsing, urgent want of your kisses prior, but for some reason, this one lingers like a prickle on the tongue, champagne bubbles as they filter down your throat, fizzling warmth through both your chests even after you pull away.

“didn’t i already tell you?” you say, bumping your nose to hers, “i’ve been praying for this since the day we met.”

vi lets out a small laugh, nodding, “yeah… you did, huh.”

you tangle your fingers in the long hairs skimming down her back.

“you don’t have enforcer stuff you need to report in for?”

vi groans, rolling her eyes, “i mean… i probably do but…”

you shake your head, “give them a call, ask for a few days off.”

vi’s eyebrows hitch at your words, “and… what do i tell them?”

“that you’re taking a few days off — call it a vacation if you want.”

“huh,” but her lips are already tugging into a knowing smirk, “and what do you propose we do on this so-called vacation of mine, hm?”

you shrug, giggling as she leans down to nip at your collarbones.

“mmm… how does staying here, sleeping in, and eating through my favorite recipes sound?”

vi pulls back, her expression flickering through several channels before settling on a mix of cautious and hopeful.

“are… you sure? you — you don’t have like… famous-person stuff you have to do?”

you laugh, “nope! not for a week at least. and… i’ve got a few really good bottles of wine in the cellar i’ve been meaning to try.”

“the cellar?”

you grin, “go make the call.”

vi pushes herself up, carding a hand through her hair and rubbing at her temples. but she glances back at you, her fingers still linked with yours. you glance down at your hands before giving her a squeeze.

“go on, i’ll still be here when you get back. i promise.”

vi leans back down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“promise?” she asks.

you nod, leaning up to kiss her properly, pulling away only when she tries to push you back into the mattress. you shoot her an exasperated look as she tugs on a shirt and nearly trips over the breakfast tray, glancing back at you from the bedroom door.

“go. i’ll be here,” you say again. and vi gives you one last lingering look before slipping through the door, leaving it swinging behind her.

a few seconds later, you hear her voice as she says —

“uh hey, it’s me. can you connect me to the warden?”

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