#i have no thoughts. only BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Food for thought: imagine lion!mydei with a prey reader!!! Yk, toss in some dub con and predator/ prey dynamics 🤭. Oh, the way us floofy ears would twitch and his tail would wrap around your leg!!

I'm absolutely convinced mydei is 10000% mean man when it's between the sheets.

Have a good day/night <3. I rlly luv your works and what's your secret to writing rlly good smut? Teach me your ways professor!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, bunny fem!reader, creampie, multiple of rounds, spanking, size kink, breeding kink, biting, huge dubcon alert, multiple of orgasms and tit slapping and other stuff. ^.^

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 note : tysm! i’m glad you enjoyed my writing sweetie. And I don’t really have a secret lmao! i’ve been writing long stories ever since I was 11. also reader is implied to be chubby and curvy! also not proof read (as always).

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

You should have noticed it earlier—the way the birds had stopped singing, the way the wind had died down as if holding its breath. But you were a bunny, and a very stupid one at that. Soft and slow and terribly, terribly unaware.

That was why you didn’t realize you were being hunted until it was far too late.

A branch cracked. Your ears twitched, your breath hitched, and then—

A massive force slammed into you from behind, knocking you down into the dirt. Your heart pounded as you scrambled to flee, but it was useless. Large, clawed hands pinned you down, pressing your softer, squishier body into the earth. A deep, rumbling growl ghosted over the shell of your ear, and your instincts screamed.

Predator.

Your body locked up in fear, trembling beneath the sheer weight of the beast above you. You had heard the stories of the lion-king before—the ruthless ruler of the wilds, the monster who tore through his prey with teeth and claw. And yet, when he dipped his head, sniffing along the side of your neck, he didn’t bite.

He inhaled. Deeply.

And then, to your absolute horror, he groaned.

“Fuck,” the lion rumbled, his voice thick, heated, laced with something primal. His heavy tail coiled around your thigh, holding you in place. His hips rolled against yours, and you felt it—the thick, hard shape of him pressing against your ass. “You smell too sweet to eat, little rabbit.”

His tongue flicked out, running a slow, wet trail up your throat. You shuddered, trying to shrink away, but his hands only gripped you tighter, claws grazing against your skin.

“You’re lucky,” Mydei murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Your breath hitched when he grinded against you again, slow and deliberate, letting you feel just how big he was. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly despite the fear still prickling at your spine. His hand moved, fingers dragging down your stomach, teasing at the plush softness there before dipping lower.

“Gonna ruin this dumb little bunny cunt,” he growled. “Make you scream for me.”

You whimpered, but there was no escape.

The lion had caught his prey. And he wasn’t letting go.

A rough hand forced your back into an arch, making you whimper as your ass lifted higher. Mydei chuckled, low and dark, his heavy tail coiling tighter around your plush thigh. The fur was deceptively soft against your skin, a contrast to the ruthless grip he had on you.

“Look at this,” he murmured, his large palm sliding over your hips, groping the softest parts of you like he was testing his prize. “Built to be fucked. You were never meant to run, little thing—just to be caught.”

A sharp smack landed across your ass. You yelped, lurching forward, but he dragged you back with ease. Another slap—harder this time—sent a hot sting rippling through your body, making your legs twitch. Your fluffy tail twitched too, betraying you, and he laughed.

“Sensitive,” he mused, palming your sore flesh before delivering another punishing slap. “You get wet from this, don’t you?”

You shook your head, ears flopping as you whimpered, but you both knew the truth. His fingers slid lower, past the heat pooling between your thighs, and—fuck—he found you already slick.

“Stupid little thing,” he purred, rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit. “What kind of prey gets wet for their predator?”

You gasped as he slid a thick finger into you, then another, stretching you open in cruel, lazy strokes. Your walls fluttered, trying to take him deeper, trying to milk something that wasn’t even inside you yet. Mydei groaned, nosing against the base of your fluffy ears, dragging his teeth lightly along them.

“Bet you’ll take my cock just as easy,” he murmured. “Gonna make you mine. Stuff you so full, you’ll never be able to run again.”

Your thighs trembled as he pulled his fingers away, leaving you empty and aching. Then—something hotter, heavier, pressed against your entrance. You gasped at the sheer size of it, instinct screaming again, but his tail tightened around your thigh, holding you still.

“You’re made for this,” Mydei rasped, rubbing the thick head of his cock against your slick folds. “Made to take my seed, to be bred nice and full.”

He thrust in, stretching your pussy open, forcing a ragged cry from your throat. Your fingers clawed at the dirt, your ears pressing flat against your head as your walls clenched around him, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him.

"That’s it," he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising. “Gonna make you all mine, little thing.”

And with another rough thrust, he set a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each thrust was brutal, knocking you forward only for Mydei to yank you back onto his cock, forcing you to take him deep. Your plush thighs shook, your body burning with overstimulation, but he didn’t let up.

“Ngh—too much—” you gasped, voice breaking between ragged moans. Your ears twitched wildly with each slam of his hips, your tail fluffing up in distress.

“Too much?” Mydei echoed, voice dripping with mockery. His claws dragged down your sides before settling on your tits, gripping them roughly, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. “You’re dripping all over my cock, little thing. You love this.”

You whined as he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before slapping your tits, making them bounce from the impact. Your body betrayed you—each slap sent a fresh pulse of heat straight to your core, making your walls clamp down even tighter around him.

"Fuck," he growled, his tail curling possessively around your thigh. “Look at you. Dumb little prey, taking my cock so well. Taking it like you were made for it.”

Your arms gave out, leaving you to slump forward onto your elbows, tits pressing into the dirt. Mydei loomed over you, his golden mane brushing against your back as he fucked you harder, deeper, his breath hot against your nape.

"You’re mine," he groaned, one clawed hand gripping the back of your neck, keeping you in place. "Say it."

You could barely think, barely breathe, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His cock was splitting you open, dragging against your walls in a way that had your stomach twisting in knots. Making your ears flattened as your tail fluffed up.

“Mydei—“ you whimpered.

His hips snapped forward, making you scream.

“Say it.”

“I—I'm yours!” you sobbed, voice breaking into a desperate wail. “Yours—your prey—your—ahhh!”

His teeth sank into the side of your throat, claiming you fully, and your vision went white as you came hard around his cock, your walls milking him greedily.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarled, his thrusts turning erratic. His hands clamped down on your hips, holding you still as he drove into you one last time, pressing himself deep.

Heat flooded your insides as he spilled inside you, thick and so much—your already-sensitive body trembled as you felt it seep even deeper. His cock throbbed, pumping more and more into you, and Mydei let out a pleased growl, licking over the fresh bite mark on your throat.

“Mine,” he murmured again, his hands smoothing over your plush body, possessive and satisfied. “And now… you're bred.”

His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, keeping you close.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Your body trembled beneath him, overstimulated and wrecked, but Mydei wasn’t done with you. His cock still twitched inside your soaked, swollen cunt, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he shifted his weight over you. His tail curled tighter around your thigh, keeping you spread open, forcing you to take every last drop of his seed.

“You look so fucked-out already,” he murmured, one large hand smoothing down your spine before gripping your hips again. “But I’m not done with you yet, little prey.”

You shivered as his hand ghosted lower, spreading your ass to watch his cum leak out of you. He groaned at the sight, his claws digging into your plush flesh. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even knotted you yet.”

Your ears twitched weakly, your breathing still ragged as you turned your head to look back at him. Your wide, dazed eyes shimmered in the dim light, glassy and unfocused—doe-eyed and utterly lost. Mydei sucked in a sharp breath, his cock throbbing at the way you gazed up at him, helpless and ruined.

“Fuck,” he growled. His hand suddenly snaked around your waist, dragging you up off the dirt. You gasped as he pulled you flush against his chest, your legs barely able to hold you up as his cock throbbed deep inside your cunt.

“You’re looking at me like you still don’t get it,” he murmured against your ear. His palm slid up your soft belly before grabbing your tits, squeezing, toying with the sensitive flesh. “You thought I’d stop after one round? Thought I’d just let you go?”

You whined, jolting as he suddenly slapped your tits, making them bounce under his grip. Your whole body jiggled from the impact, heat blooming across your skin, and Mydei “groaned” as his cock twitched inside you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers before giving another sharp slap to your tits, watching them jiggle in his grasp. “Mine to fuck, mine to fill—“

His other hand suddenly slammed against your lower belly, pressing down right where his cock stretched you open. You gasped, your walls fluttering around him as he chuckled darkly.

“Feel that?” he purred. “Right here. My cock, stuffing you so full.”

You sobbed, your hips twitching as he began grinding against your overstimulated clit, pressing down on your belly with every slow, deep thrust.

“Too much—Mydei, please—”

“Please?” he mocked, nosing along your flushed cheek. “Please what, little prey? Please keep fucking you? Please breed you again?"

Your mind was fogged with pleasure, your body trembling in his grasp, but you still managed to choke out a desperate, ruined—

“Yes!”

Mydei snapped.

His tail tightened around your thigh as he slammed you back onto his cock, spearing you open, making your tits bounce wildly with each punishing thrust. You could do nothing but whimper, drool spilling from your lips as your walls spasmed around him, milking him for more.

“Fuck—you’re perfect,” he groaned, licking over your ear before biting down on your shoulder, claiming you. “Gonna fill you up again. Gonna knot you—make sure my seed takes—“

You let out a choked cry as he pressed his palm against your belly again, feeling himself inside you, knowing he was going to breed you until you couldn’t take anymore.

Until you were nothing but his.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[shotmrmiller]

(Unnamed for now, 4.8k words of nothing but self indulgence because ex bf simon is king. just porn without plot, the usual filth. also i wrote myself into a hole with the smut but whatever.)

If your friends knew that you'd gone to great lengths to look presentable— less cave-dweller, more human— hoping to get lucky tonight only to end up waving off anyone of interest because you're too busy sulking about a relationship you willingly broke off, they'd kick you from the group chat.

(Or never let you live it down.)

But here you are, perched on a barstool, its cracked leather slightly sticky beneath your legs, the cocktail you'd ordered a while ago sitting mostly untouched on an even stickier bar top. Lamenting. Moping all over a guy who hasn't bothered to return a single phone call since you left him the voicemail. And it hadn't been his fault, really. He'd been upfront with you from the get-go; he's a busy man with a job you don't want to know about and are safer not knowing about.

You'd noticed the specific wording he'd used. Not better off but safer off, its implications perilous. The hardened look he'd given you when you'd pressed him on it, hoping for a slip of the truth, had been the first and only warning you'd needed.

Get off his case, understood.

You clench your teeth, irritation nipping at your nerves. You'd like to think that you've mourned this ex-relationship plenty and feeling an acute, smoldering ache again over a whisper of a memory (and not even a fond one at that)—

Time to douse these flames.

Waving the bartender down, you push away the watered-down drink and gesture for a shot. She eyes you warily, hesitating for a moment before sliding an empty glass over and reaching for some top-shelf bottle your bank account already feels the bite of. The fiery burn that courses down your throat resembles the one in your chest.

The alcohol swiftly does its job, offering a sense of relief, and you're grateful for it, even if fleeting. The room starts to blur a bit, the strobing lights overhead bleeding together like a watercolor painting left out in the rain, and you let yourself sink into the moment, the gentle ebb of intoxication pooling heat in your cheeks, warmth seeping into your limbs.

Things don't look so bad now; the world has taken a dreamlike quality to it, with softened edges and vibrant colors. With the liquid courage dulling the sharpness of your previous thoughts and easing the tension in your shoulders, you reckon that now you can start looking for your prey of the evening. It's why you even bothered to slink out of your comfort zone in the first place.

Mission directive: Get laid. Or plan B: go home with a new number saved in your contacts.

You rest your chin on your palm, eyes lazily scanning around the room, taking in the hazy but lively atmosphere. The dance floor is a whirl of energy, couples moving to the rhythm of the music, a group of friends huddling in a corner, hands gesturing animatedly as they chat each other up, and at the front—

If you swiveled away in your chair any faster, the courage you'd knocked back 10 minutes ago would come back up, spilling onto the bar top the barkeep gave up trying to keep clean. There have been numerous instances where your mind plays tricks on you, teasing you with glimpses of big and blonde in your peripheral while out running errands, the miserable lump in your throat only dislodging once you've made your grand escape.

(It's not running away; It's a tactical retreat. You'll face the music when it's less deafening.)

And in keeping with tradition, you settle your tab and scurry off to the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline. A familiar shadow just walked in through the front door, once again haunting you. No matter how many times you whisper reassurances under your breath, dismissing it as a cruel joke your mind loves to play, the semblance of him never fails to arouse a bit of panic in you.

The trip to the bathroom feels like you're trekking across the country, weaving in and out and around crowds of people, dodging flailing limbs like an extreme sport. The inside is relatively small and cramped; three stalls for the entire bar. It's blessedly empty, so you beeline to the sink, hoping for a splash of cold water to settle your nerves.

The water is startlingly cold, or maybe it feels colder because you're flustered, and you're mid air-drying your hands when you hear it: that unforgettable gait, heavy and solid, like a tank rolling over rugged terrain. It's something that you can still hear echo in the small confines of your flat when the world is quiet. The mirror in front reflects your tense face, its edges cloudy with time and poor-quality cleaning solutions.

Get a grip, you're losing it.

Until the door swings wide, hinges screeching as it gives way with no resistance, and you realize that you're not losing it. But you just might.

"'Ello, poppet."

Incredulity forces a chuckle out of you because it's either you laugh or you cry.

"Nice," he eyes the cracked tile beneath your feet, "choice for a night out. Beer's more piss than ale, though." The door closes behind him.

The mockery in his voice is wildly unwarranted, especially for a man you haven't heard from for a better part of the year, and you finally gather your wits to bite back indignantly.

"What? It's not your cuppa? I always assumed you ratted out in seedy holes like this." The bruise-tight grip you've got around your bag makes your fingers ache. "I'll be sure to pick a more refined place for you next time."

He wastes no time closing the gap between you two, your three steps back negated by his single one with laughable ease, and the space around you seems to shrink, his presence swallowing it whole. You'd forgotten just how large a man he was— is.

A different beast altogether.

"No need. We won't be comin' back 'ere again." Your brows quirked at that. He's gone and learned French, apparently. Oui. You try to keep your personal bubble intact by taking another step back only to come in contact with a stall door, its chilly surface forcing your spine rigid. Cornered, caught in the crosshairs of the hunter's gaze, and the intensity of it makes you feel vulnerable, bare, as if you're staring up the barrel of a loaded gun.

"Easy, lovie, no need to look at me like tha', 'm jus' 'ere to talk," he says with a tone that's tinged with condescension, and his giant mitts are up and palms facing you like he's dealing with a skittish animal. There's a thought there, buried deep, that you refuse to acknowledge.

"Talk?" The question bursts out before you can stop it, followed by a sardonic laugh that feels unexpectedly cathartic as it leaves your mouth. Talk now, when you not only kept your line of communication open but also actively tried reaching out for weeks? Weeks spent waiting for a response, foolishly hoping he'd give a damn enough to at least put up a fight for you and what you had?

He tilts his head slightly, eyes unreadable. "Better late than never," he remarks, but that's the problem, isn't it? You were forced to come to terms with never, whether you liked it or not. And you had not liked it, but it had been necessary. To know there was a part of his life you weren't welcome to, regardless of reason, was something that shadowed your interactions. The realization that you were kept at arm's length due to the duality of his life was too bitter a pill to swallow.

It'd been a painful process making peace with the fact that maybe things just hadn't been meant to be. C'est la vie and all that tripe. But now, here he stands before you, having materialized out of thin air, a bloody intrusion upon the fragile peace you've built for yourself— it feels like a mockery of the emotional distress you've had to endure.

"Better late than—? You honestly fucking think you can just," you stumble over yourself in disbelief, "just corner me in a tiny bathroom of a dingy bar to talk?"

Simon raises one bulky shoulder, unconcerned. "You chose the place."

His piss poor attempt at a joke is like a slap in the face. "Right. Goodbye, Simon." You step around him briskly, your arm brushing against his. Just as your fingers graze the cold metal of the door handle, his encircle your wrist and gently pull you away. The span of his palm could easily engulf the entirety of your hand, and you can't help but wonder if you're as delicate and fragile as you feel in his grasp.

"Let me try that again," he murmurs tentatively, and you curse your good nature— the one that's always been too quick to soften even when you know better. You know just how clumsy he is with words, how his tongue ties itself in knots when emotions creep into the conversation. Simon gives your wrist a tender squeeze. "Ya can leave whenever you want."

Damn it. Damn it. Fine. This confrontation has been a long time coming anyway. "Then try again and make it fast," you snap, words short and clipped. "How we haven't been kicked out of here yet is a bloody wonder."

He steps away from you and leans his hips against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. Here Simon stands, no longer a hazy apparition in the corner of your eye but fully here. Real. Uncomfortable so. You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"Didn't mean to disappear on ya," his tone carries a note of something resembling regret. "Work took me across the world, couldn't reach out t'you even if I wanted to." And there it is, the crux of the problem. His job. Always his job. The one part of his life you've never been allowed to see, what had been the ever-constant shadow hanging over your relationship. What tore him away from you for weeks at a time only for those same gaps to start getting longer and longer while his stays grew shorter.

That's not good enough.

"So that's it?" Simon cannot honestly expect you to take his paltry excuse and run with it. As if it's enough to stitch together the wound his silence left behind. "Work? That's what you're going with?" It's the audacity that stings the most, the hope that you'd simply accept it and move past all of this heartache.

For all you know, he could be lying through his teeth, spinning enough truth to make it seem believable. You must have your suspicions plastered on your forehead because Simon peels himself off the sink with a sharp breath and narrowed eyes.

"'M many things, love, but a liar ain't one of 'em." His hand disappears into the front pocket of his worn denims, and when he pulls it free, you instantly recognize the tattered, frayed edges of his wallet. Still clinging to life, it seems. As stubborn as the man holding it. He opens it and extends it to you because it's imperative you see...?

"Work." And right there is an ID, not your plain old driver's license, which you're unsurprised to see absent. The man has no business being behind the wheel of any vehicle; he's a threat to all life and limb while on the road— but a military ID, the insignia emblazoned on the card unmistakable. You'd pieced together as much but never fully assumed, never formed a picture, just a blurred outline that left more questions than answers.

Name: Simon Riley. Rank: Lieutenant. Special Forces is right above the square where a photo is supposed to be. "There's no picture." You flash your eyes up at his in question.

"Never," he states.

You swallow thickly. An admission, this is. A roughly hewn olive branch tucked away in the ratty wallet you'd told him to toss ages ago. He snaps it shut with a practiced flick and then rucks up the right sleeve of his jacket up to the crook of his elbows, exposing his forearm, stark and freckled, the skin pale but then closer to his wrist, his flesh taking on a more golden hue— honeyed, sun-kissed.

Simon Riley does not tan.

"Sat on my arse out in a barren stretch o' land f'r months on end, cookin' under the blazin' sun while waitin' for orders tha' never came," he grumbles, voice weary. He doesn't flinch when your wandering fingers feather across the darkened strip of skin. "The only form o' communication was local." You flip his hand, the underside of his wrist startlingly pale like the underbelly of a fish. "Couldn't 'ave reached out even if I wanted to. No signal."

It hangs heavy, what he was willing to share, and you're wondering if he's only asking for understanding or something else. Your treacherous heart flutters in your chest, breath squeezing from your lungs. A tiny part of you hopes for he's asking for that something else.

There's a new scar on his palm, close to the hardened calluses on his knuckles, the deep, puckered groove still red and raw— fresh enough to make you wince— and you can't help the frown that pulls at your lips. You can bet he took care of this himself, the oaf. Probably spit it clean and wrapped it up with whatever he had on hand. He's lucky it didn't infect.

"Only when I came back did I receive the missed calls, the texts, the bloody voicemail," he gnarls, and while the sharpness of his tone isn't aimed at you, you feel the biting sting of it anyway. Simon cradles your hand in his much larger one, and he doesn't squeeze, doesn't hold too tight; he simply holds it, the choice to refuse him if you wanted.

You don't.

"And this isn't something you could've told me before? I know I pressed when I shouldn't have," chagrin pools in your cheeks, "but I worried for you. You were sometimes so unreachable, standing between two worlds at once. I couldn't help ease the weight of your responsibilities because I didn't know what I was dealing with." As you thread your fingers with his, they feel impossibly small, brittle— like the bones of a bird swallowed in the expanse of his hand. How unsettling.

(Yet you wouldn't have it any other way.)

Simon shakes his head, slow and deliberate, but his grip on your hand tightens. "I've more enemies than friends," he mutters, raising your hand to his masked lips, the gesture oddly tender as he presses a kiss on it even though it forces you to rise onto your tiptoes. You blow a puff of air, mildly exasperated. Big geezer.

"Every time I rid myself o' one, two take their place. I only did it t' keep ya safe. There's nothin' they'd love more than to exploit any o' my weaknesses." He says it as though the admission itself is dangerous, and maybe it is, but the risk, you believe, is one worth taking even if he won't.

Where he sees danger, you see trust. And that's all you ever wanted. Trust, because either you'll have all of him or none of him, so you tell him that.

His grip tightens imperceptibly. "Only wha' I feel is safe f'r you to know. Nothin' more." You know he means it. You've seen how far he's willing to go, how much he's willing to sacrifice, to keep you out of harm's reach.

Simon will shoulder just about anything alone if it means you'll be kept safe.

How lovely. He's taken it upon himself to play Batman when no one cast him into the role. Ah, well. A win is a win, and you've long learned some battles aren't worth the effort today, so you tuck this conversation into the back of your mind, a note to revisit at a later date. As for now, though...

"Alright, Si," the old nickname slips from you so easily, as if it never left, "We can continue this tomorrow, if you're able, but as for me," your gaze flickers to the faint ring of grime around the drain and the scribbles covering the peeling walls, "I've just about had it with this place."

But he's got no interest in letting you go now, not when you've given him the second chance he'd been desperate for. Instead, he jerks you to him, your shoulder colliding into his chest, his arms cinching tight around you. There is no grace, no soft pretense to it— just a raw, unfiltered need of a man clinging to what he's been too afraid to lose; your arsecheeks apparently because that's what he's currently pawing at.

Pervert. Honestly, you'd applaud him for holding back from groping you for this long. No shame in giving credit where it's due. You thought about letting him have his fill, indulging his starved-dog behavior until his hands started to wander beneath your clothes. You ought to make him stop this before it spirals into something completely out of your control.

Ah, but then he latches onto the sensitive spot on your neck, right below the ear, so close to your drumming pulse and your words snag in your throat like fishhooks when he suckles.

It's tragic how quickly you cave.

Simon's breath fans hot over your spit-slick throat, slow and composed while yours is sharp and shallow as if you can't quite catch it. He jerks his head toward the stall, and you freeze, disbelief rooting you in place.

"You're joking." He's gone and lost whatever scraps of sanity he had left back wherever he was because there's no way you're getting down and dirty in— your lip curls in distaste as you look at the industry-grade bottle of disinfectant that sits in the corner— here. But then he's dragging you toward the nearest stall anyway, your bag tumbling to the ground, not my bag, Simon, shit, you owe me another. The door is a pitiful excuse for privacy, barely clinging to the hinges and sporting a gap wide enough to make you grimace. You've hardly any time to register anything else before Simon is already at your feet, smoothly dropping to one knee, the crown of his head dipping slightly below your navel.

Simon's hands cup the back of your thighs, palms spread wide as they trail upward, the tips of his fingers finding lace and not your everyday cotton. With a deliberate slowness, he lifts the hem of your skirt, his neck craning just enough to bring his line of sight under the drape of fabric, and his gaze lingers.

Oh right. You've got on that set— the one he'd carefully chosen for your birthday, that one that fits you so perfectly it almost feels unfair. A little indulgence that'd been meant for his eyes only. Even as you'd slipped it on earlier tonight, it'd felt like you'd been breaking the rules.

It makes you wonder...

You hook a leg over his shoulder, the heel of your shoe digging into the straight plane of his back. "Well?" Your question is wrapped in feigned nonchalance. "Does it make you upset?" Simon shrugs, dismissive, his eyes steady as they lock onto yours. The dim light above buzzes faintly, its unkind glow spilling over his rugged face. It does nothing to soften the sharpness of his features.

And you notice a new scar, tiny, close to his hare's lip.

"Doesn't threaten me, sweet'eart."

A sharp laugh escapes you. How infuriatingly arrogant. Simon leans in, his nose brushing against your sex roughly before he takes a crude sniff, unrestrained, unapologetic. Nasty as always.

The faintest smirk curls the corners of his lips. "Can't blame me, my girl and I 'ave been apart f'r too long." Humming, you place a hand on his head, palming over the short bristles of his hair before curling around the back of his neck, and you grind down on him.

"If you're hungry, then eat." The smile you give him after your gracious offer is nothing short of salacious.

Simon thumbs your gusset to the side and slips his tongue through your folds, and it's electric, raw. Frissons ripple through you, starting from your nape, and it cascades down your arm and your legs, and the sensation is sharp, almost overwhelming, and you bow forward, nails digging into the dense muscle of his traps.

It's been so fucking long.

Hot, wet pressure circles around your swollen clit, purposefully shy of what you covet, enough to stir something within you but not enough to satisfy— nowhere near enough. It makes you testy. Impatient. It pushes you to lose control, feeling it slip from his grasp, only to land squarely in his.

It's the exact reaction Simon craves. You can grind down on the tip of his nose all you want, push and pull at his head every which way, but you don't come without his say so, and to earn that, there's something you have to do.

By the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip, bite-swollen and glossy with spit, peering down at him with bleary eyes after having rutted against his face without restraint, frantically seeking the friction you yearn for, you also know what to do.

Good.

Now he waits. Your pussy is dripping slick, dewy honey trailing down his chin and joining the sticky mess pooling near his knee, but he doesn't care— his focus is entirely on you. Simon knows exactly how this will end. You're as mulish as ever, he muses, but you'll break. You always do. It's not a question of if but when, and he's content to wait as long as it takes for the inevitable. After all, he's a patient man when he chooses to be.

Your chest heaves with every ragged draw of air to your lungs, your pretty lips quivering with need, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. If he had the skill, he'd pencil this very moment onto paper, immortalizing it. The desperation that clings to your features, the frustrated grunts you give when he laps at your— his— cunt, tongue skimming just shy of your pearl.

It's intoxicating. A heady visceral rush that courses through his veins and pools white-hot in his groin, stiffening his cock almost painfully.

And then, when a finger dips into your sopping entrance, the composure you'd been desperately clinging to begins to come apart. Simon watches it unfold through heavy-lidded eyes, the gentle part of your lips, the tremor in your breath— he drinks up every single second.

"Please," your voice is barely more than a breadth of a whisper. Your surrender is almost as sweet as you.

The kiss he plants on the inside of your thigh is searing as he hums. "What's it?" The prickly stubble of his jaw scratches against your skin. "Don't lose ya courage now," he murmurs, "you've already fought 'alf the battle.

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, but you truck on, dignity long lost, in tatters next to your bag on the floor. "Please let me come." Your words come out in a half whine, half plea, and Simon's response is immediate; he cants your hips as two thick fingers enter you fully, and at this angle, it's more than he knows you can take, but you asked for it. Begged for it.

Simon takes it slow, not easy, the suction on your clit maddening; strong, fluttering pulses that seemingly beat in tandem with your heart and the world begins to tilt on its axis, his strong hands keeping you anchored lest your knees give way beneath you.

The world narrows down to the sound of your hiccups, the tension coiled spring tight below your navel, the feel of his shirt knotting in your fist— if he had hair long enough to tug, you would've ripped it out.

You knock your head back against the door almost violently, the dull throb stamped out by the livewire crackling beneath your skin when you finally do come, a scorching heat radiating from within your core out, leaving a raw, tingling sensation in its wake. It stings, you dazedly muse. The orgasm that was wrenched from you was so thunderous your pussy stings. It's short-lived but potent, and you can't help but wince, your lips curling, teeth slightly bared in discomfort.

Ouch.

Simon, on the other hand, is just peachy, unbothered as ever, leaned back on his haunches, chin glistening with slick, his thumb sweeping what's about to drip off his nose.

"Don't think for a second I'm returning the favor here. I've standards, Simon." He huffs in response but says nothing, expecting nothing less of you, instead opting to shrug his jacket off and place it over your drooping shoulders. Your limbs feel leaden as you exit the stall, Simon nimbly reaching for your health hazard of a bag before leading you toward the door.

Your fingers curl around the knob, and twist and pull—

and nothing. Confusion knots your brows together as you retrace your steps. Had you pushed or pulled it open? You can't quite recall, so you give it a firm push it instead—

and nothing. Again. The door stays closed.

"Need help there?" Irritation sparks within you, wishing your glare would eviscerate the obstinate door. Does Simon think himself funny? All you want is to go home, scrub yourself sparkling clean, and sleep until the late afternoon, but the door is conspiring against you. Good. Great, even.

"Bloody door," you grumble, "It won't open." Simon steps forward, unhurried, and twists the handle once, twice—

"Open sesame," he says, tone utterly flat and casual, and you snap your slackened jaw shut. "Oh for fuck's sake, Simon, keep your shit jokes," but the door opens with a click.

You're joking.

You're fucking joking.

It swings wide with a creak, and you glance around instinctively. Nothing out of place— just the usual drunken bodies flowing in and out, their laughter and slurred conversations blending into the background.

Simon drapes a heavy arm around your shoulders, large hand squeezing firm as he walks you out, and you trudge alongside, your gait sluggish, until a massive bulk stumbles into your path, and Simon quickly places himself between you and the drunken mass, both a protector and a threat.

The bloke is a guy with a row of thick hair that runs from his forehead to the nape of his neck, the sides clean shaven. "Sorry, bonnie, didnae mean ta-" limpid blue flashes to Simon, his thin-lipped smile stretches wide— too wide— flashing too many teeth for comfort, "bump into ye." He doesn't linger though, clodhopping his way back to the bar. There's a bold-lined tattoo on his nape, of a... revolver? A choice.

"Walk. I'll take ya home. Won't come in for a nightcap," the lines by his eyes becoming more pronounced. "Scouts 'onor." Simon pulls you along, and you're fighting off the sleep in your eyes when a man in a cap, his profile partially hidden by the brim, bumps his knuckles against Simon's shoulder, and curiosity outweighs your fatigue.

"Who's that?"

Simon grunts. "Security."

You don't remember having been frisked by security when you came in.

The crisp air outside bites your cheeks when you step out, and you're grateful for Simon's forethought as you tug the sides of his jacket closer to you, burying your nose into the collar— it smells of cigarette smoke and him, musky and woodsy— a quiet comfort. Sleep tugs at your eyelids, each step feeling heavier than the last as you make your way towards his vehicle.

The metal door groans as it opens, and he extends a hand, aiding you up when you squeeze it as you slur out a confession.

I missed you.

He doesn't falter in his movements as he guides both your feet inside, and his hands are steady as he adjusts the belt, buckle quietly clicking into place until he straightens, gaze dark and fluid as it lingers on you.

He runs the rough pad of his thumb along your bottom lip tenderly.

"I know, sweet'heart. Get some sleep."

The door closes with a firm but gentle push.

I know, he says. Exhaustion pulls at you, dragging you further away from consciousness. Bastard.

Simon doesn't wake you when he pulls up to your driveway, hooking an arm under your knees and the other around your waist to take you inside, your head lolling on his shoulder. Tomorrow, you'll ask him how he knows where you live, considering you moved for a new job months ago.

[missarchive]

motel six

spencer reid

cw; spencer reid x fem!reader, spencer gets caught jacking off, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, softdom!reader, sub!spencer, one bed troupe, oral (m. receiving), aftercare, unprotected p in v, spencer’s a little desperate and awkward (what’s new)

an; HIII ALLL!!! This is based on an ask I received earlier this month, but I have had a few similar ones so I finally made a fic for them. The truth is that I have been seeing a beautiful woman and she is taking up most of my time. BUT- I managed to sneak this one in. I will start posting more consistently again now that my writer’s block has finally disappeared. As always, please leave some feedback if you liked it (if you didn’t just know you’re stepping on my hopes and dreams). Love and miss u guys xoxo

wc; around 3k

Your stomach twists. A long day chasing leads and poring over case files has already left you drained, and now you have to share a room with someone? You glance around at your teammates, who are pairing off with little hesitation. Morgan claims a room with Rossi. Hotch and JJ take another. Emily and Garcia get the third. That leaves…

You turn your head just as Spencer Reid—resident genius, profiler extraordinaire, and your usual case partner—adjusts the strap of his bag with an unmistakable grimace. His hazel eyes dart to yours before flicking away, his jaw tightening.

Of course.

"Looks like it's you and me, Reid," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he nods stiffly and brushes past you toward the room number scribbled on the keycard sleeve. Your stomach sinks further, but you push down the unease and follow.

The room is as underwhelming as expected: beige walls, scratchy-looking blankets, and a single queen bed shoved against one side. A rickety wooden chair sits near the window, but otherwise, the space is cramped.

Spencer stops in the doorway, his whole body tensing. "You take the bed. I’ll sleep in the chair."

You frown. "Reid, that thing looks like it’ll collapse if you breathe on it too hard. We can just—"

"I said I’ll sleep in the chair," he snaps, dropping his go-bag by the door.

The sharpness in his voice catches you off guard. Spencer is always a little awkward, sometimes distant, but rarely outright rude. You watch as he rubs his temple, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if he might crack a tooth. He looks… angry. At you?

"Okay," you say slowly. "Did I do something?"

"No," he bites out. "Just drop it."

You exhale sharply, irritation flaring. "Spencer, we’re both exhausted. If something’s wrong, you can just—"

"Just leave it alone, Y/N."

His words are clipped, final. You stare at him for a moment, searching his face for an answer, but he won’t meet your gaze. The room suddenly feels suffocating.

Fine. If he wants to be an ass, let him.

"I’m going outside," you mutter, grabbing your jacket. "Maybe by the time I get back, you’ll have figured out how to use your words like an adult."

You don’t wait for a response before stepping out into the cool night air.

The motel parking lot is nearly empty, save for the team's vehicles and a couple of semi-trucks parked along the far end. You breathe in the crisp air, letting it wash away some of the frustration bubbling inside you.

Spencer’s behavior isn’t just annoying—it stings. You thought the two of you were friends. Sure, he can be awkward and distant, but he’s never been outright cruel before. Whatever is bothering him, he clearly doesn’t want to share it with you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the cold seeps through your thin jacket. After a few minutes, your irritation starts to wane, replaced by exhaustion. You don’t have the energy to stay mad, and honestly, all you want is to collapse into bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

With a sigh, you make your way back toward the room. The hallway is silent, the only sound your footsteps against the aging carpet. You reach for the door handle but freeze as a muffled noise seeps through the thin walls.

A low, breathy moan.

Your heart stutters.

You strain to listen, barely breathing as another quiet sound follows—one you recognize immediately.

A strangled gasp, unmistakably Spencer’s.

Heat rushes to your face as your brain supplies every possible explanation, each one more embarrassing than the last. You should walk away. You should turn around and pretend you never heard anything. But your hand stays frozen on the doorknob, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Another moan drifts through the door, this one louder. You swallow against the sudden lump in your throat.

"Fuck," Spencer gasps. "O-oh god— please."

His voice is low, rough. Desperate.

You grip the doorknob tighter, debating for what feels like an eternity. Should you walk away? Or—

You ease the door open, pressing your hand against it as if to stop yourself from charging forward. Spencer’s back is to you, his head thrown back as he works himself over, his hand moving in rapid strokes.

You can’t help it—you step further into the room, drinking in the sight of him.

He’s sprawled on the bed, shirtless and pale in the moonlight filtering through the blinds. His arm muscles are tense, sweat dripping down the side of his face. The blanket is thrown back, revealing his naked lower half: his long legs, his perfect hands—

His cock, thick and wet between his fingers.

You feel a rush of arousal at the sight, your blood pulsing hot. This is so wrong. So inappropriate. He’s your teammate, for god’s sake, and yet—

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

Spencer's hips jerk upwards, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Y/N," he gasps again, his head falling back against the pillow. His eyelids flutter shut, his brows drawn together.

"Y/N, fuck, please—" His hand moves faster, stroking himself with a rough desperation that makes your breath hitch. You can’t look away as he thrusts against his grip, his hips writhing, his spine arched.

"Ah- fuck," he gasps, his body tensing, his fist tightening around himself. His mouth falls open, his eyes squeezing shut as he comes with a strangled moan.

You press your hand over your mouth, holding back a whimper of your own as you watch him.

Spencer sags against the mattress, his chest heaving. He's so fucking beautiful, and—

And you’re still standing here, watching him.

Your eyes dart to his face, and your stomach plummets as he turns his head.

He opens his eyes, and you meet his gaze across the room.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

Then you both leap into action.

He scrambles upright, fumbling for the blanket to cover himself. You jump backward, tripping over the threshold and landing hard on your ass.

"Shit," you hiss, wincing at the pain that shoots up your tailbone. "Shit. I—fuck, I’m sorry. I should—"

"Y/N," Spencer says in a strangled voice. "I—I thought you were gone. I didn’t know you were—"

He trails off, looking anywhere but at you. You struggle to your feet, smoothing your clothes down self-consciously. This is awkward as hell.

"I thought you were asleep," you admit, wincing. "I didn’t mean to—"

Spencer draws his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He looks so fucking embarrassed, and you can't blame him.

You should say something. Apologize. You should put him at ease—

But the sight of him still has your pulse hammering.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down your racing thoughts. "I’m sorry, Spencer. I really am. I don’t mean—this is just—"

He raises his head, his eyes searching your face. "What were you doing, standing there?" he asks softly.

You swallow against the lump in your throat. "I don’t know," you whisper. "It was wrong, what I did. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have watched you. I’m sorry."

Spencer lowers his gaze, his face still flushed. "What if I wanted you to?" he mumbles.

Your heart jumps. "What?"

"I wanted you to watch me," he says louder, his eyes darting up to meet yours. "I’ve been wanting you to for weeks, ever since you asked me to take over the case files."

"What?" you repeat stupidly.

Spencer shifts, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I started—I started thinking about you. Fantasizing about you. You touching me, kissing me— everything."

Oh.

You stare at him, trying to process. "Reid," you say softly. "I—"

"Don’t apologize," he says quickly. "It’s not your fault, I just—I wanted you. So fucking bad. I thought that sleeping next to you would be—"

"What?" you prompt gently.

He exhales sharply. "That it would be uncomfortable," he says in a rough whisper. "That it would drive me crazy. That maybe you’d—maybe you’d feel it too."

His gaze flicks up to yours again, full of hope.

Your heart races. "Is that what you want?" you ask, stepping forward.

Spencer's breath hitches, his fingers tightening around his knees. "Yes," he rasps. "Oh fuck, yes. If you—Y/N, I’ll do anything you want. Just—just don’t leave me alone again. Please."

His words send a surge of pleasure through your veins. The sight of him, desperate and pleading, is almost too much to bear.

"Spencer," you whisper, taking another step forward. "Come here."

He scrambles to his feet, rushing toward you. You meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. He melts against you, pressing his face into the curve of your neck with a sigh.

"I can’t believe you saw that," he murmurs into your skin.

"I can’t believe I did either," you admit with a chuckle. "But I’m glad I did."

Spencer raises his head, his hazel eyes searching yours. "You are?"

You nod, smiling softly. "Yes."

His face flushes. "Do—do you want to watch me again?"

You smile wider. "Maybe later," you tease. "Right now, I think it’s my turn."

Spencer's eyes widen as you press him backwards, onto the bed. "I thought you were tired," he murmurs, his voice already thickening with arousal.

"I am," you agree, smiling. "But this is more important." You drop your jacket onto the floor, pulling off your shirt and jeans in quick motions. Spencer's eyes dart down to take in the sight of your naked body, and you flush at his hungry gaze.

He groans, throwing his head back against the pillow as you climb on top of him.

It takes a lot to shock Spencer Reid. But you're definitely up for the challenge. The look on his face is priceless as you take his cock in your mouth, not wasting any more time. His hips buck against the mattress, his hands threading into your hair.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Oh my god. Y/N."

He tangles his fingers in your hair, urging you on as you work him over. He's so responsive, moaning and gasping and whining—fuck, it's a beautiful sound.

You work him deeper, taking

Spencer moans loudly as you take him deeper, his thighs trembling. "Y/N, oh fuck, I—fuck—"

You press one hand against his hip, holding him steady as you swirl your tongue over the underside of his cock. Spencer bucks against your grip, his fingers tightening in your hair. He's still so sensitive from his previous release, but he's still getting harder—thicker—by the second.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, teasing the spot behind the head.

"Oh fuck," Spencer gasps, his voice broken. "Y/N, please—please don’t stop. I’m going to— ah."

You press your other hand against his stomach, feeling the muscles contract. His whole body is straining upwards, his back arched and his eyes squeezed shut.

You take him all the way in, swallowing around his length as you work your lips over his shaft. Spencer comes with a cry, his hips jerking as he empties down your throat. You swallow every drop, holding his gaze as you slowly pull back.

"Touch," he rasps, his fingers searching for your own.

You swallow against the ache in your throat and smile up at him, lacing your fingers with his. "How are you feeling?" you ask, running your thumb over his hand, keeping your voice soft as to not disturb the air.

Spencer sighs, though not out of exhaustion, you assume he’s still taking everything in as you see his head rolling against the pillow. "It’s never felt like that before."

You grin. "Glad I could help."

He shifts, reaching for his discarded pants on the floor. "We should—we should clean up," he mumbles, his eyes darting to yours. He flushes when he sees your expression, and his face turns even redder as you realize what he’s doing.

"Reid," you laugh. "Are you really reaching for tissues right now?"

His ears turn bright red. "Well, what—what else am I supposed to do?"

You shift, straddling his hips as you lean down. "How about we do something else," you murmur. You kiss his jawline, working your way down his neck.

"Like what?" he asks in a breathy voice.

"Like this," you reply. You shift, taking his cock inside you. Spencer's breath hitches, and he groans at the feel of you surrounding him. You clasp his shoulders as you begin to move, his hands falling to your hips. He gasps with each thrust, his eyes falling shut as his head lolls back against the pillow.

"Y/N," he whimpers, his fingers digging into your skin. “I don’t know if I can-."

You ride him harder, sliding up and down his cock. “Yes you can, baby. I know you can give me one more,” Spencer's hips rock upwards to meet you, his breath coming in broken gasps.

His fingers tighten around your hips, holding you close as he thrusts upwards.

You’re both panting and gasping now as you chase the peak. You're so close. So fucking close.

"Please—" Spencer groans. "Y/N. I'm—fuck, I'm coming."

You feel him spasm inside you, his fingers tightening almost painfully around your hips. You groan, your movements slowing as you ride him through his orgasm. Spencer's eyes are closed, his mouth open as he gasps for air. His body trembles beneath you, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as you reach yours, too.

You slump forward, catching yourself on his shoulders as you press your forehead against his. He opens his eyes and smiles at you, a warm expression that makes your chest ache.

"Hi," he murmurs softly.

"Hi Spencer." You smile back.

You both lay there for a moment, enjoying the weight of each other’s bodies. Finally, you roll off him, stretching out next to him on the creaky motel bed.

You reach for him, pulling him into your arms as you smile. He nestles against you, his arm snaking around your waist as he presses his face against your chest.

You wrap your arm around him, whispering soft praise into his hair as you stroke his skin gently. He relaxes further, his body growing heavy with sleep.

The mattress is uncomfortable, the sheets too thin. But somehow, you feel more at ease than you have in weeks.

Spencer Reid is a brilliant man. But he’s also really fucking good at other things too. And you’re excited to find out what else he’s good at.

You smile to yourself, your chest warm with affection.

"Goodnight, Reid," you whisper into his hair.

He hums a soft reply, his breathing already slowing. You wrap your arm tighter around him, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off into sleep. Tomorrow, the case will continue, and so will your job. But right now, you have Spencer in your arms.

And that’s more than enough. You smile again, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you drift off to sleep. This room might not be perfect. But it’s home for the moment, and that’s all you need. You drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of Spencer's heartbeat against your chest.

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ honey, on your knees

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: rafe gets desperate to please reader warnings/tags: smut, oral (fem. receiving) MDNI! wc: 1.7k a/n; inspired by 'holy' by king princess! that song is so them... also there's an easter egg in this fic (what is this, the mcu?) lmk if you spot it!

rafe masterlist ♡ pervert masterlist ♡

rafe's raging hard-on was pressing against your clothed cunt as you were straddling him on his bed, the boy's hair mussed up by how much you'd been tugging on it. you didn't know if your boyfriend was aware just how his hips were bucking up into you desperately, small whines leaving his throat every time your lips took even a slight break from being heatedly pressing against his.

you chuckled as you pulled your lips away from him, a mocking pout on your lips. "what's the matter, baby?"

"please..." he whines underneath you, his blue eyes rolled back in his head.

"please what?" you chuckled again, rolling your hips against his, causing him to let out a guttural whine as you ran a long, manicured nail down his jawline, "speak up. you know i can't hear you when you just whine like that."

you wiped the saliva away from rafe's kiss-swollen lips; the two of you had been making out in his bed for the past hour, and he'd been basically humping up into you for the majority of it. your panties were soaked at this point, but you couldn't resist; you'd rather have your pussy clenching around nothing if it meant you'd get to tease him.

"j-just..." rafe whispered, trying to steady his breathing, his cheeks pink, "just need... something..."

"oh, do you?" you cocked your head to the side, "but what if i need something, huh? you think your needs should come first?"

"i'll give you anything," his eyebrows are knitted together in a way that made him look like the most pitiful, adorable puppy as he looked up at you, his pupils so wide his eyes almost appear black.

"yeah? anything?" you coo, bringing your lips down to his defined jawline, starting to leave small little kisses and licks as your lips traced it, "anything?" you mumble against his chin until nipping at the soft skin sharply, rafe letting out a whiney exhale.

"anything..."

you chuckled, pulling away from his chin, biting down on your lip as your thumb wiped away a tiny drop of blood that you'd drawn with your small nip, "look, rafe. seems like i nicked you a little." you smile, showing your thumb to rafe, only for the boy not caring for even one bit, not even when you wiped it on his lower lip, his tongue almost automatically darting out to lick it off.

"please."

you pursed your lips in thought for a moment, until chuckling as you got off his lap, making rafe look at you with wide eyes, an almost betrayed look on his face. you sat back on his bed, hugging your knees for a brief moment, before cocking your head to the side and lifting your eyebrow, spreading your legs. "take off my shorts."

rafe didn't need to be told twice; he knelt down in between your legs, the shape of his cock visible through his grey sweatpants. you lifted your hips to help him as he scrambled to get your shorts off, and when he saw the wet patch on your baby pink panties, right under the heart-shaped cut-our in the middle of it, his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, "what... what do you want me to do?" he mumbled, clearing his throat.

you run your pointed bare foot down his arm, the light hairs on his arms raising, a shiver running down his spine as you caress him with a coy smile, cocking your head to the side with a glint in your eye. "take them off."

rafe took a long, shaky breath. hesitantly, he reached out for the waistband of your panties, his knuckles pressing against your lower abdomen making you hitch your breath.

even though you knew it wasn't rafe's purpose to tease you, it took him agonizingly long to slide your panties down your legs, making you grow more and more desperate to feel him, to feel his touch, to feel his mouth between your legs. and finally, when your panties were discarded to the side, he turned to look at you, and it was as if he was hypnotized by the sight of you.

"kiss up my legs. slowly."

listening to your guidance, rafe lifted your right foot to rest on his shoulder, turning to face it as he pressed a kiss on your ankle, tracing wet, warm kisses, first up your calf, before pressing a kiss on your knee. as with everything rafe did, he was thorough. he nipped, licked, and kissed up your inner thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him, his breath hot against your bare skin.

when rafe finally reached the divet between your thigh and your cunt, he inhaled the scent of your arousal, exhaling against your arousal-slickened cunt shakily, causing your back to arch off the bed.

you'd had enough of his unintentional teasing, so you brought your manicured hand to his hair, gripping it tightly. you moved his head so you had him where you wanted, making rafe let out a muffled grunt against your folds. he moved the other thigh to rest on his shoulder too.

as you loosened your grip slightly, he pulled away just slightly, only to run his thumb up your labia and slightly pressing against your clit, giving it a lazy roll. "i haven't done this before, but, uh, i'm gonna try my best." he murmured, and you felt the vibrations of his voice in your spine, making you bite down a smile.

rafe suckled up one of your folds, and finally, when he reached your clit, he simply pressed a small kiss on the throbbing bud, running his tongue down your slit, making you arch into his touch as you let out a whine, your grip clenching around his hair.

the boy repeated his action on your other fold, but now, when he reached your clit, rafe circled it with his tongue teasingly. one of his hands started trailing up your body, pushing up his shirt as he did so, and you could tell that as he reached your bralette-covered breasts, his hips bucked against the bed, and as his tongue circled your clit, his fingers started circling your hardened nipple.

when rafe's lips wrapped around your clit, his fingers wrapped around your nipple. and when his lips finally started greedily sucking your clit between his lips, his fingers pinched your nipple.

you gasped, arching into his touch; you felt as he started rolling around your nipple between his fingers, while simultaneously drawing figure-eights on your clit with his tongue. rafe was letting out, almost indecipherable moans against your clit, his hips rutting against the bed.

"just like that..." you moan, arching your hips into him, and as his other hand creeps up your thigh, he pulls away from your clit, a groan leaving your lips as you look down at him, taking your hand away from his hair with a disappointed huff, "did i tell you to stop?"

rafe let out a bashful chuckle, the hand that was on your thigh moving to push back his mussed-up hair, "just, uh, wanted to know if it's okay if i use my fingers?"

you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him fondly before resting your head back down, your hand moving to grab his hair again, "just shut up and do it."

his head disappeared between your thighs once again, lapping up some of your arousal before his lips wrapped around your clit again. you felt two of his fingers circling your entrance, building suspense.

but when he finally pushed his fingers into you, your walls were so slick with your arousal, it was like they were sucking him in, pleading him to go deeper. rafe let out a soft moan against your clit as he pushed his long fingers deeper, the coldness from his rings causing shivers to run down your spine.

"yes..." you clenched around his fingers, feeling as he withdrew them, only to push them in deeper, and as he continued on, he began to arch them inside of you and your grip on his hair tightened, the squelch of your pussy as his fingers started to pick up their pace mixed with the sound of your moans filling his dorm room.

and as his fingers and mouth worked in tandem, you kept arching more and more into him, your breathing getting more irrational as you felt the familiar warm feeling in your abdomen slowly turn scorching hot.

"yes, right there!" you moan the moment you feel his fingers reach that spongy spot, and as usual, he obeyed, his fingers continuing to arch into that one specific spot, your head thrown back in bliss, your eyes closed as you chased your orgasm.

and when it finally hit you, it was like electricity was running through your body, your pussy clenching around his fingers, trapping his long digits inside of you, gripping onto his hair as if to make sure you'd stay on earth. rafe pulled his lips away from your throbbing clit, panting, instead moving his thumb to slowly roll around the bud to help you come down from your orgasm.

and when the clenching of your walls finally started to ease up, he rafe slowly slid his fingers out of you as you took short breaths, your heart pounding against your chest. you slowly let go of his hair, and rafe moved up your body. you looked at him with half-lidded eyes, a blissed-out smile on your lips, while his own were covered with your arousal.

"did i do okay?" rafe asked, his cheeks red as he was biting down on his lower lip. you moved your hand to his lips, tugging it from under his teeth, before pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"you did better than okay." you mumbled against his lips, pressing a small peck on them, "you did amazing, baby. where'd you learn that?"

"i, uh…" he mumbled, "i studied."

you laugh softly, shaking your head, "what, do you mean you watched porn or something?"

"no…" rafe scratched the back of his neck, "i read some articles online."

somehow, as dorky as your boyfriend's answer was; it was also the most endearing thing in the world.

[thefrenchfryturtle2]

1. What is you middle name? Don’t have

2. How old are you? MINOR

3. When is your birthday? Somewhere in September

4. What is your zodiac sign? Virgo ♍️

5. What is your favorite color? Gee i wonder…

6. What’s your lucky number? 13 :)

7. Do you have any pets? No :(

8. Where are you from? My mom

9. How tall are you? 5,2”

10. What shoe size are you? 5 and a half

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 6… okay that sounds like a lot but two of them are really old

12. What was your last dream about? Uh… I think i forgot

13. What talents do you have? I can fold my tongue into clover, wiggle my ears, flare nostrils, and make my eyebrows do a waveeee

14. Are you psychic in any way? Yeah. Sometimes I can read people’s mind and say things at the same time as them. Just ask @yourfavvvintj and @zerukye

15. Favorite song? Count on Me by Bruno Mars, tho Sweet Tooth by Cavetown is a really close second place

16. Favorite movie? Turtle Tale Sammy’s Adventure lol

17. Who would be your ideal partner? @zerukye lol aka my current one

18. Do you want children? NO THANK YOU

19. Do you want a church wedding? BEACH WEDDING!!

20. Are you religious? No

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Haha yep-

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? No, I’m a law abiding citizen.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Do voice actors count-

24. Baths or showers? Showers

25. What color socks are you wearing? Pink and blue

26. Have you ever been famous? My tag game post has over 200 notes which is more than my average amounts combined.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Yeah, but only in the science department.

28. What type of music do you like? Indie

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No, and I don’t intend to-

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2

31. What position do you usually sleep in? Fetal position or dead positon

32. How big is your house? Medium???

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Bread and chocolate 😅😅

34. Have you ever fired a gun? Do Nerf guns count?

35. Have you ever tried archery? Yes and I sucked- i want to do it again

36. Favorite clean word? Shoot and dang

37. Favorite swear word? None, I don’t swear

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? I’m not sure-

39. Do you have any scars? Loads :)

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? @zerukye

41. Are you a good liar? Nope-

42. Are you a good judge of character? Absolutely

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Bottol o wotor???

44. Do you have a strong accent? No

45. What is your favorite accent? British

46. What is your personality type? INFJ-T

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? Glasses

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yep

49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie

50. Left or right handed? Right handed

51. Are you scared of spiders? Nope, I want a pet tarantula.

52. Favorite food? RAMEN!

53. Favorite foreign food? RAMEN!

54. Are you a clean or messy person? In the middle….

55. Most used phrased? BRUHHHH

56. Most used word? Bruh

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

58. Do you have much of an ego? Depends on situation—

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Bite

60. Do you talk to yourself? In my head

61. Do you sing to yourself? Of course

62. Are you a good singer? Yeah lol

63. Biggest Fear? Needles….

64. Are you a gossip? I’m gossiped about lol.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Titanic haha

66. Do you like long or short hair? Short

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I’m not even going to try… but yeah probably

68. Favorite school subject? SCIENCE 🧪

69. Extrovert or Introvert? INTROVERT-

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? I want to!!!

71. What makes you nervous? The dark-

72. Are you scared of the dark? Terrified-

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Of course

74. Are you ticklish? Yes…..

75. Have you ever started a rumor? No.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Yeah

77. Have you ever drank underage? Uh. I was eight….. we thought it was “tea”

78. Have you ever done drugs? Do antidepressants count-

79. Who was your first real crush? I’m not saying… @yourfavvvintj already knows-

80. How many piercings do you have? 2. One on each ear

81. Can you roll your Rs? Yes

82. How fast can you type? 100 WPM

83. How fast can you run? Not fast-

84. What color is your hair? Black and green and blue

85. What color is your eyes? Boring brown-

86. What are you allergic to? Nothing!

87. Do you keep a journal? Yeah but I don’t update it often.

88. What do your parents do? Love me

89. Do you like your age? I’m a teen, of course I don’t

90. What makes you angry? My sister-

91. Do you like your own name? I would change it to Turtle but that’s weirder than a white girl name.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Zelda and Link for my future cats.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? I don’t want children so I don’t really care

94. What are you strengths? Singing, creative writing, science, doing two pull up.

95. What are your weaknesses? Running a mile, literary interpretations, balloons…

96. How did you get your name? My parents named me after a president because they want me to be a good leader.

97. Were your ancestors royalty? I don’t think so.

98. Do you have any scars? Yes 👍

99. Color of your bedspread? Navy blue

100. Color of your room? Boring gray

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

PLEASE DON’T LET THIS FLOP AHHHH

1. What is you middle name? 2. How old are you? 3. When is your birthday? 4. What is your zodiac sign? 5. What is your favorite color? 6. What’s your lucky number? 7. Do you have any pets? 8. Where are you from? 9. How tall are you? 10. What shoe size are you? 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? 12. What was your last dream about? 13. What talents do you have? 14. Are you psychic in any way? 15. Favorite song? 16. Favorite movie? 17. Who would be your ideal partner? 18. Do you want children? 19. Do you want a church wedding? 20. Are you religious? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 24. Baths or showers? 25. What color socks are you wearing? 26. Have you ever been famous? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? 28. What type of music do you like? 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 31. What position do you usually sleep in? 32. How big is your house? 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 34. Have you ever fired a gun? 35. Have you ever tried archery? 36. Favorite clean word? 37. Favorite swear word? 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 39. Do you have any scars? 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? 41. Are you a good liar? 42. Are you a good judge of character? 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? 44. Do you have a strong accent? 45. What is your favorite accent? 46. What is your personality type? 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? 48. Can you curl your tongue? 49. Are you an innie or an outie? 50. Left or right handed? 51. Are you scared of spiders? 52. Favorite food? 53. Favorite foreign food? 54. Are you a clean or messy person? 55. Most used phrased? 56. Most used word? 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 58. Do you have much of an ego? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? 60. Do you talk to yourself? 61. Do you sing to yourself? 62. Are you a good singer? 63. Biggest Fear? 64. Are you a gossip? 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? 66. Do you like long or short hair? 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? 68. Favorite school subject? 69. Extrovert or Introvert? 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? 71. What makes you nervous? 72. Are you scared of the dark? 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? 74. Are you ticklish? 75. Have you ever started a rumor? 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? 77. Have you ever drank underage? 78. Have you ever done drugs? 79. Who was your first real crush? 80. How many piercings do you have? 81. Can you roll your Rs?“ 82. How fast can you type? 83. How fast can you run? 84. What color is your hair? 85. What color is your eyes? 86. What are you allergic to? 87. Do you keep a journal? 88. What do your parents do? 89. Do you like your age? 90. What makes you angry? 91. Do you like your own name? 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? 94. What are you strengths? 95. What are your weaknesses? 96. How did you get your name? 97. Were your ancestors royalty? 98. Do you have any scars? 99. Color of your bedspread? 100. Color of your room?

[xoxochb]

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“well I had a dream last night,” you sigh.

“hm, yeah? about what?”

percy tightly wraps his arms around your waist, keeping you tucked against him as his face goes to your shoulder taking in a large almost comical inhale of your scent. you splay your hands along his upper back to assure he keeps close.

“well it started with me and you and we—”

“I was in your dream? what was I doing… with you?” with feeling his smirk, you don’t really want to respond.

you cut out the part of the dream he would’ve enjoyed hearing and begin from the middle.

“we weren’t doing anything. we were at the dining pavilion and we were eating breakfast—”

“if I may—”

“you may not.”

he nods once. “go on, sweet girl, I’m all ears.”

“you had pancakes with strawberries and I had pancakes with blueberries. you were upset because your strawberries weren’t blue so I offered to make them blue for you.”

“food dye?”

“no. I squeezed the blueberries onto the strawberries and y’know how usually blueberries have red insides? they were blue this time and dyed the entire strawberry.”

you feel percy’s hand rubbing your back in such a soothing mannerism you only wish to curl deeper into him and remain there forever. your brain suddenly feels fuzzy with the affection.

“what happened next?”

“uhmmm…” you bite your lip. you think as hard as humanly possible but his hand so soft and so calloused and so calming and fits so perfectly against your skin like it was made to touch you. “we ate the pancakes.”

“that’s all that happened?” percy’s voice is muffled.

“yeah.”

“that was short.”

“well it got cut short because you woke me up!”

percy pinches your waist. “not on purpose, sweet girl, I’d never do that to you.”

“not on purpose but you have a drooling problem.”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy being covered in my drool. is this a new kink of yours?”

“what— no, perseus!” you tug at his hair.

he shrugs defensively. “just thought I’d ask.”

“maybe.” you pull back not even an inch so you can slide downward and place your index over his mouth. “you should keep your lips glued.”

percy begins to kiss along your finger before taking it into his mouth and beginning to gnaw on it. you remove it quickly and see it covered in his spit. you sigh and take your finger in your own mouth to clean it of his saliva.

only when you began wiping it on the blanket did you realize you had that option the entire time. only after the fact did you realize what percy had been plotting.

[woso-story]

Alexia's Wisdom Teeth Removal

Alexia Putellas x Reader

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you stretched, feeling the warmth of your shared bed. Today was an unusual day off from training, but you had taken it for a good reason—to take care of Alexia.

Your girlfriend had been dreading this day for a while, even if she tried not to show it. She needed to have her wisdom teeth removed, and while she had initially said her sister could go with her, you had insisted. You wanted to be there for her, no matter how small the procedure. You knew Alexia—always independent, always tough—but you could sense her nervousness in the way she had been fidgeting since the night before, checking and rechecking the appointment details as if she had forgotten them.

The drive to the doctor's office was quiet. Alexia sat beside you, her leg bouncing up and down, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. She barely spoke, just stared out the window, lost in thought. You glanced over at her, noticing her tension, and reached out to place a reassuring hand on her thigh, giving it a small squeeze. She looked at you, her eyes softening, and gave you a grateful smile.

"You'll be okay," you murmured, keeping your eyes on the road. She exhaled a shaky breath, nodding slightly, but her hands still gripped the hem of her hoodie tightly.

Once at the doctor's office, you checked her in at the front desk while she sat down, her fingers drumming anxiously on her knee. It wasn’t long before they called her name. She stood, and you gave her a quick peck on the temple. "Good luck, carino. I'll be right here when you're done."

---

An hour later, a nurse came out to let you know the procedure was over. Alexia was ready to go home, though she was still quite groggy from the sedative. Stepping inside the recovery room, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

Alexia looked absolutely lost, holding two ice packs to her cheeks, her expression dazed and confused. The moment she spotted you, her face lit up into a wide, goofy smile—only for her to wince at the pain that followed. Her eyelids drooped heavily, and she blinked slowly, as if trying to process where she was.

You chuckled, walking over to her. "Ready to go home?"

She gave an exaggerated nod, her eyes barely staying open. Carefully, you helped her out of the chair and guided her to the car. The entire ride home, she mumbled incoherently, a mix of complaints about her numb face and declarations of love for you.

"You’re the best," she slurred. "Like, the best best. My favorite person ever."

You tried not to laugh as you drove. "Yeah? You’re pretty great too, Lex."

Once you arrived home, you led her inside and settled her onto the couch. She pouted dramatically when you took the ice packs from her but sighed in relief when you replaced them with fresh ones.

"You comfy?" you asked, brushing some hair from her forehead.

She nodded lazily. "Mhm. But I want cuddles."

You smirked. "Later, okay? Let me get you some medication first."

---

The rest of the day was quiet. Alexia, who was usually always up and moving, had no choice but to rest. She dozed on and off, her head occasionally lolling onto your shoulder whenever you sat beside her. It was strange to see her like this—so soft, so needy—but you took the chance to pamper her as much as possible. You brought her water, kept her comfortable, and ensured she didn’t try to sneak in a workout, much to her displeasure.

That evening, she went to bed earlier than usual. You stayed behind in the kitchen, preparing some soup for her for the next day when you’d be at training.

Just as you were putting things away, you heard a faint whining coming from the bedroom. You walked in to find Alexia pouting, arms open toward you. "Cuddles."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'll join you soon, I just need to do the laundry—"

"No." Her voice was muffled by the ice pack, but her tone was firm. She whined again, looking at you with pleading eyes, her usual composed demeanor completely gone.

Sighing dramatically, you climbed into bed beside her, chuckling. "You’re so needy right now," you teased.

"Shhh." She huffed, burying her face in your shoulder.

You gently took the ice pack from her and placed a soft kiss on each of her swollen cheeks. She pouted but then looked up at you expectantly.

"More."

Laughing, you pressed a delicate kiss to her lips, mindful of her soreness. She hummed happily, snuggling closer.

---

Over the next few days, Alexia had no choice but to take it easy, though it drove her crazy. After two days, she was already sneaking into the home gym, doing light workouts.

"Lex, you’re supposed to be resting," you scolded, crossing your arms.

"I am," she defended, stretching lightly. "Just��� moving a little."

You sighed, shaking your head. "You’re impossible."

She grinned cheekily, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

You did your best to take care of her while she recovered, knowing that normally, she wouldn’t let you dote on her like this. Soon enough, she was back to training, back to her usual self. But part of you missed the clingy, snuggly Alexia from those few days—though you knew better than to tell her that.

[tbaluver]

Caught You Staring ꩜ .ᐟ - The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader requested: by anonnie ☕︎ summary: you get distracted from how handsome your boyfriend looks genre: fluff fluff + silly a/n: hihi lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this was requested a while back and i finally finished this ! i hope you enjoy reading (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ and thank you for beta reading this @ilovemitsuya MWAH (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

you both were at the cafe, grabbing a quick bite while trying to finish the last Wanderer report before you both head back to the building. but honestly, how could you focus on paperwork when he was sitting across from you like that?

his light brown hair looked so soft, you wanted to run your finger through them. and his lips? they were slightly pursed, like he was in deep thought and they would always be so soft whenever you pressed your lips on them. they were just naturally perfect.

and those eyes. his blue eyes. they were like the ocean and every time he blinked, his long lashes fluttered so slowly and softly. you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat every time you were around him, it was ridiculous. but when are you ever normal about your man?

it didn’t take long for him to catch you staring but you were too busy admiring him to notice that those same beautiful blue ocean eyes were staring right back at you. for a good couple of minutes, you both stared at each other until it finally clicked.

your cheeks flushed as you blinked rapidly as if you were trying to reboot your brain. you stammered out an apology as you avoided his gaze, “sorry. i..i-”

“i win,” he says softly.

you blinked, confused. “..what?”

“staring contest,” he explains innocently, “i guess it’s unfair you had a head start so..let’s have a new round.”

Zayne:

most of the time, you two just did your own thing as you two spent time together. he’d occupy himself with a book or flip through patient reports, preparing for his next operation that would be in a couple of days. you did your own tasks but you couldn’t focus on anything he looked like that.

you looked up from whatever you were doing, only to get completely distracted by the way his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, perfectly perched. the way he would occasionally adjust them with those long, slender fingers of his was somehow mesmerizing. you definitely weren’t staring but your eyes just seemed to be glued to him.

the way he was so focused on his work, so intent and serious, was just attractive. his jawline was so sharp, they could cut you and leave marks. the way his brows furrowed in concentration and you couldn’t help but admire how those soft lashes fluttered every time he blinked. and those hazel green eyes of his-

ahem

you didn’t realize it, but you had been staring for a while. so long, in fact he could feel your eyes burning through him as he did his own tasks. “i have a feeling you’re more interested in what i’m doing or perhaps do you need something?” he spoke without looking up.

your cheeks instantly flush. were you staring that long? “sorry i just got distracted..” you mumble as you scramble back to what you were originally doing.

the corners of his lips quirked, closing his book with a soft thud. “i see..” he murmured, adjusting his glasses. “then perhaps you can enlighten me on what was so distracting?”

Rafayel:

thomas had insisted that rafayel should finish his last canvas for the upcoming exhibition and naturally he would procrastinate for as long as he could but with thomas’s relentless nagging, he finally got to work. he begged- insisted that you stay with him for inspiration and support and who were you to turn down that request?

for the past couple of hours rafayel had been silently focused on his canvas, stroking the brush across the surface. meanwhile you stayed out of his way, letting him work in peace. but well, you couldn’t help but look up every now and then. 

he looked good in his white button up shirt, casually unbuttoned to reveal the little mole on his left pec and how his sleeves rolled up just enough to give you a peek of his veins. and those nebula eyes of his were so easy to get lost into.

he seemed to notice this of course but he didn’t bother to say anything though. instead, he lets you stare as long as you want, clearly trying not to let the smirk creep up on his lips. but as minutes passed he couldn’t resist anymore. “if you’re gonna stare cutie, take a picture.”

you blinked rapidly, snapping out of his trance as you scrambled back to what you were doing. your cheeks heated up as you quickly stammered out a quick apology. “sorry i was just..i just wanted to see what you painted so far..”  you knew you were lying and he knew too.

raf, clearly enjoying this, taps the brush innocently against his chin. “yeah? don’t liars get set on fire or something? should i light you on fire or..” he teases, giving you a playful grin.

you rolled your eyes, playfully huffing before walking around him, stepping closer to the canvas. “wait no-!” the teasing tone gone immediately as his hands flail to cover the canvas away from you. but it was already too late, your eyes landing on the canvas to find it..exactly as the same as before. no progress.

“raf..” you said flatly. “were you not painting at all?”

he gave an exaggerated hmph, crossing his arms as he turned away. “i can’t focus when you’re staring at me like i’m some kind of bait!”

Sylus:

you two sat beside each other in comfortable silence. he was cleaning one of his vintage guns while you were pretending to focus on your own task. it wasn’t easy when he was sitting right there, your gaze wandering over to him.

there was no denying your lover was handsome. his gaze was often found intimidating but not to you. his crimson were practically hypnotic to you, like you could lose yourself in them forever and still feel safe. you let your eyes trace his features, his soft hair, nearly swept back and how his lips curve, making it impossible not to imagine how they’d feel against yours right now.

before you knew it, you were completely lost in thought about him, your thoughts melting away as you admired every detail about him. you probably should have been more discreet about it when his voice broke through your daydream.

“if you’re that curious about what i’m doing, feel free to ask. i’m not the one to keep secrets from you.”

you blinked, snapping out of your trance to find him glancing at you with a raised brow. your cheeks flushed once you realize you’d been caught.

“i- um,” you stammered, fidgeting in your seat as you pretended to busy yourself back into what you were doing to avoid the embarrassment.

he chuckles as he watches you. “cat got your tongue?” he teases, closing the gun’s case with a soft click. “there. now i’m all yours sweetie.”

Caleb:

you two were sitting beside each other, working through training reports like old times. but this time it was different, maybe for you. this time you worked on training reports as an official couple. every time you tried to focus, your attention kept wandering back to him.

his dark brown hair looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and run your fingers through them. his hand rests thoughtfully on his chin and you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers skillfully flip his pen between them.

then there were his lips. a little curved and how much you love how that curve would widen into a full bright smile whenever he was around you. and his eyes, always full with so much longing for you as much as you did for him. you couldn’t help. you continued to stare at him, lost in the moment until his voice broke through your daydreams, pulling you back into reality.

“are you trying to telepathically tell me you need something pipsqueak?” he teases, his lips curling into a smile as he ruffles your hair gently. he rests his chin back on his hand, the way he looks at you was making your heart flutter all over again.

your face flushed. “i-um,” you stammered, shaking your head as you quickly averted your gaze, trying to focus back on the training report in front of you.

“you know,” his hand slides the report away from you. “if you’re tired, you can always lean on me. or maybe we can just take a break? how about that?” you glance back at him, the words getting caught in your throat as he smiles warmly at you, making the entire world pause just for a moment.

[luvyeni]

sungchan doesn’t find it funny how funny you think it is that anton has a crush on you …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이제노 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex, language word count. 0.4k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

at first he thought he was being paranoid; crazy even. but then came the long stares at you when he thought he wasn't looking, the constant wanting to be around you.

“he fucking likes you.” sungchan said ; closing the door of his bedroom. “sungchan you’re being ridiculous, he's your brother.” you laughed , that was pissing him off , your lack of care for the situation. “that makes it worse , my brother wants to fuck my girlfriend.” he said with a scoff. “and my girlfriend thinks it’s so fucking halarious.”

you rolled your eyes. “because you’re acting as if i’ll go into his room and ride him, sungchan it’s a school boy crush , not that deep.” you plopped down on his bed. “expect he’s not a fucking middle schooler , he’s a legal adult.” he said. “my god sungchan do you want me to go fuck your brother is that what you want?” you meant this as a joke — maybe not the best joke to tell you at that moment. “are you fucking serious?”

“sungchan— shut up.” your eyes widened at his sudden voice change. “you think this shit is funny?” he said. “you like knowing he likes you , does that shit turn you on or something?” you shake your head. “of course it doesn’t chan , i only love you.” you said. “prove it.” he said. “huh?” you questioned. “we can’t do that , yo-you’re brother is still here.” he smirked. “good , lay back.”

“fu-fuck sungchan.” you moaned , biting your lips to keep from making any loud noises as your boyfriend hovered above you; his cock reaching deep inside you as he fucked you. “don’t fu-fuck don’t do that.” he growled , grabbing your cheeks. “don’t fucking hide your moans.” he said. “let him hear you.” he said , fucking deeper inside you if that was possible. “let him fucking hear.”

he hit the spot inside you; a moan ripped from your throat with warning. “sungchan!” he sped up , gripping your waist. “that’s it be fucking loud.” he grunted , the headboard knocking against the wall. “ch-channie th-the wa-wall.” he scoffed. “i don’t give a fuck about the headboard , don’t focus on that , focus on taking my cock.”

covering your moans were now on the back burner; your mind was focusing on cumming and sungchan ; the only one who could get you there. “no one can fuck you like this.” he moaned. “only i can make you dumb like this.” he rubbed you clit. “c-cum.”

“you gonna cum?” he hummed. “ye-yes , channie gonna cum.” you whined , stomach tightening. “cum for me , be loud for me.” he gave your cunt a few light slaps , sending you over the edge. “sungchan!” you screamed , as you came hard around him. “oh fuck.” he hissed. “fuck im gonna cum.” he thrusted a few times. “shit.” he hissed as he came inside you pulling out , watching it leak out. “you have a problem.” you huffed. “he probably heard us.” your boyfriend smirked , kissing your forehead.

“good now he knows your mine.”

©️LUVYENI

[shikaizer]

DIRTY PLEASURE 003.

ᯓ Paige Bueckers x Reader x Caitlin Clark

KINDLY CHECK THIS OUT FOR THE PARTS, SUMMARY AND WARNING > SERIES MASTERLIST

waking up the to the sensation of the light behind your eyelid, the sound of the ac the only source of sound and the warmth to each of your side, slowly fluttering your eyelids, stretching as you felt a lip brush on your neck. you completely opened your eyes to see paige sleeping peacefully infront of you, meanwhile caitlin was behind you.

the affection you are feeling right now somehow feels right and wrong, supposing the rumors you have heard about this two, you cant help but ignore them as the comfort your being given is something you would be longing right now, the feeling of their touch and the way they would treat you well.

but following the event that happend last night, especially when you remembered it right at this moment you slowly sat up careful not to wake them up but failed as caitlin groaned, and paige slowly opening her eyes. the sudden shift of coldness might have waked them up so you cursed your self.

"awake already?" paige asked still obviously drowsy meanwhile caitlin rubbed her eyes pulling you by the waist to lay back down.

"sorry for waking you up." you apologized and caitlin hummed "no worries pretty girl.." paige cooed and you mentally slapped yourself, you have gathered the thoughts of being played by them all over again, at this point you should be standing up and walking out the door and never have contact with them again.

but what can we say? you know yourself well and you know that your liking the attention your being given, its a win for you since they both are perfect. and if the time comes when they would be leaving you, then you cry right? but thats not important right. because you know what they say 'embrace the moment before it turns into a disaster'.

being deep in thought you havent noticed caitlins hands sliding underneath your shirt, technically her shirt, your breath hitched squeezing your eyes shut, paige had taken a notice at this and she pressed her lips on your neck.

"so early in the morning and being dirty..." she scoffed you elicit a whimper from the sudden call out, and caitlin responded by gently pinching your skin making you whince.

"right? what a whore.." she clicked her tounge mocking a dissapointed tone, and you cant even bring your self to speak up, the lingering touch of their fingers lurking on your skin has you dazed and confused.

"i need...to go home." the situation becoming more and more overwhelming has you catching your breath and stumbling words over words, the control they are taking from you is insane.

"why baby? dont wanna stay any longer?" paige whispered to your ears causing a shiver down your spine, shaking your head. "thats not it.." caitlin scoffed smacking your thighs making you gasp "or dont tell me you dont want this?" caitlin state making you quickly raise both your hands up in defense, paige mocked a shocked gasp and pout.

"is that true baby?" you groaned, feeling the weight of the dissapointment coming from the both of them made you guilty. "no! i want this!" you exclaimed earning a amused smirk from them.

"yeah?" caitlin hummed and started kissing behind your ear, meanwhile paige is currently enhaling your scent her hands rubbing you thighs

"just scared..." you muttured and caitlin looked at you. "scared of what baby?" paige asked gaining her attention. "well i... never had sex before..." you confessed feeling shame wash over your body as if you have just revealed the most embarassing thing.

caitlin and paige looked at each other for a brief moment, you dont know if they are either amused or dumbfounded, but their response left you sighing in relief. "so its your first time?" paige asked moving a strand of hair behind your ear, you nodded biting your lip. "fuck, all for us? your first time?" caitlin cursed and sat up the excitement wash over the both of them.

"dont be scared my love, we'll be gentle, promise." paige assured you and you looked down hesitating while caitlin waited for your approval. "dont worry babygirl.. we will take care of you." caitlin added obviously feeling unpatient as her fingers was tugging on the hem of your shirt.

"okay.." you breathed out and caitlin didn't waste a second disregarding your shirt. throwing them across the room, you felt the cold air hit your body as your breath shivered, paige made its way between your thighs pushing them apart each other looking up at you.

you whimpered when paige slid your shorts down, the air hitting your bare cunt making you curl your toes. "so fucking beautiful." paige whispered to your cunt and caitlin gripped on your jaw leaning in for a rough and deep kiss, you gasped thru the kiss when you felt paige's tounge lick a strip.

you rolled your eyes back, the kissing getting more rougher and teeths softly grazing each other, caitlin started to play with your teeths squeezing them like its some type of stress ball.

"aww look at you..." caitlin let out a mocking laugh at your screwed face. "didn't even start, yet you look like we fucked you for hours." you groaned feeling annoyed.

"hey paige, should we strap her?" caitlin looked over at paige and paige lifted her self up frowning. "but its her first time?" paige looked over at you trying to gain some kind of approval from you. "she will adjust, trust." paige rolled her eyes and leaned down again this time sucking your cunt making you arch your back suddenly.

caitlin looked over at you and smiled your moans being blisfull for her ears. "fuck, love that." she mutter leaning down to kiss your neck to your jaw, meanwhile paige was eating you like its her last meal, you hips bucking up each time she would suck on them.

"aww fuck!" you cursed jerking your hips closer to her mouth, meanwhile caitlin observed the way your body responses to deal with you later when shes going to fuck you.

paige stopped making you whine and she quickly shut you up. "patience babe." she growled and caitlin reached out for her strap, once she got it she bucked it up to her waist, while paige starts to insert to fingers seemingly trying to widen up your insides, it was easy to slide in due to your wetness. you let out a loud dazed moan your back arching "look so good like this baby..." she cooed curling her fingers making drool run to the corner of your lips.

once caitlin was set, paige shifted her self next to you her arms wrapping on your waist while her lips are brushing near your ears, pecking your cheeks each time "gotta relax baby okay?"paige assured you nodded and looked over at caitlin whos looking at your cunt while she was holding onto her cock. she rubbed the tip on your cunt making you whimper wanting more, she looked at you smirking rubbing it deeper the teasing being obvious. "please caitlin.." you whined out and she raised her eyebrows. "please what?" caitlin asked mocking a confused tone but the smirk on her mouth never fucking left. "gotta be more specific baby." paige states her fingers busy squeezing your boobs "what a dumb slut, cant even beg right." caitlin scoffed elicting a whimper out of you, her words shot straight to your core, and before you know it, she slid inside you not letting you adjust to the length.

luckily, paige was beside you holding your hand, while you gripped hard on it, she gave it soft kisses "good girl...fucking take it." she cooed to your ear.

caitlin leaned down as she slammed harder inside you. "look so fucking perfect with my cock.." she clicked her tounge following a curse under her breath slamming onto you relentlessly while paige was whispering sweet nothings to your ear.

caitlin continued her steady and rough pace completely turned on by the way your voice is gagging and being really loud. she cant help but to fuck you deeper wanting to hear more reactions from you.

"more!" you moaned out loud and her hands reached a handful of your hair grabbing them tightly and she leaned down staring directly at you eyes darkening "shh shut up and let me do the work yeah?" you gazed up at her and nodded.

you felt the bed creaking beneath you and caitlins lips brushing on your neck, feeling her breath hitch, yet paige on the other side was enjoying the sounds your making while her hands are rubbing your clit, you closed your eyes due to the pleasure your feeling.

But what you haven't notice was, caitlin was taking out her phone, hitting the red button and leaning it to your level basically your whole body and face being shown while shes fucking you, you fluttured your eyes. "what..??" you managed to speak out and paige hushed you. "its your first time baby, gotta make them memorable right?" you tried to catch your breath and caitlin wrapped her arms around your shoulder thrusting in deeper making you groan. "is it okay pretty girl?" caitlin whispered its more like an assurance and not and question, before you could answer, she thrusted in deeper continuesly slamming inside you loud mewls coming out your mouth, unable to form a word and mind blank. "fuck yes yes!" you managed to shout "im gonna cum!" you arched your back toes curling, caitlin buried her face on your neck feeling her breath unsteady. with a final thrust you felt your release your whole body relaxing, caitlin felt the wetness near her strap so she slowed down. meanwhile paige was now holding the phone which she have stopped recording.

caitlin kissed your jaw to your neck as you continued catching your breath. "fuckk... so wet.." she muttured as she reached her fingers to swim in your soaking cunt.

"look at how wet she is.." caitlin grunted and paige smacked her in the shoulder "your not gonna let me get my turn?" caitlin scoffed rolling her eyes "shut the fuck up shes tired" paige groaned burying her face on your neck "next time when i fuck you, your gonna be shouting my name, okay?" she whispered to your ear and you nodded still dazed from your climax eyes closed "oh trust me, paige fucks like a turtle." caitlin spat, assuming that she seen how she fucks other girls.

"oh fuck you" paige groaned earning a smirk from you. "dont listen to her baby or else i'll show you how i really fuck." caitlin removed her strap and layed next to you kissing your cheeks.

"did you feel good?" caitlin asked looked over at you, you opened your eyes to meet her gaze and you smiled nodding. "good."

timeskip 3 weeks later, the three of you are always close, its either the both of them inviting you to their dorm, spending time with you, all the attention is given towards you, they would spend money on you, giving you gifts, making sure you eaten, and you watching them practice everytime while you do some few homeworks in the bench.

and aliyah has taken a notice on this one, she was furious. she felt betrayed. you still spend your time with her whenever your in class anyway but you cant help it when paige and caitlin are always clinging to you.

"hey...are you ignoring me?" you leaned closer to aliyah while she was writing down in her notes, she gave you a side glare and continued writing.

"woah, whats wrong with you?" you scoffed frowning, you are annoyed at this point now and she gave you a disbelief chuckle "whats wrong with me?" she repeated shaking her head.

"you know what your a such a selfish cunt!" she shouted earning a stare from the others, the cafeteria got quiet for a second and later being filled with noise again.

"what did you say?" you raised your eyebrows huffing your chest. "oh stop being all innocent! your really hanging out with those two? gosh even after the issues they done?" you rolled your eyes jaw clenching, truth be told, you didn't believe the issue aside from the screenshots, you have convinced your self that it was just someone making it up, because the fact that the two of those person are literally perfect and popular, theres no doubt that they wont have any haters, you bet its made up by a boy too, yuck.

"they are just friends, its not like im fucking them!" you are quick to swallow your words but gained composure and aliyah laughed. "oh trust me, i bet they did already." you scowled shaking your head you dont understand her her tone doesn't seem concern but jealous ,sudddenly you saw paige in the corner of your eye walking towards the both of you, aliyah's jaw dropped and frowned looking more annoyed as paige sat down next to you. "hey guys. whats with this tension?" paige looked over at aliyah and back to you "bitch." aliyah muttured gathering her things and walking out. "whats up with her?" paige raised her eyebrows and you scoffed. "i dont know... she just crashed out and called me a selfish cunt. just because i was hanging out with the two of you." this was the problem, you didn't keep your mouth shut, but you payed no mind because in your mind, paige and caitlin are always there for you, but they took this literally.

"what?" paige responded unsure of what you just said. you sighed putting your hands up. "i know right. its messed up." you looked up at paige her eyes never leaving your her eyebrows furrowed. "i'll talk to her later." you muttured and looked away and paige was quick to hold your chin making you look at her shaking her head.

"no dont, you didn't do anything wrong, thats just bullshit." paige was right, you dont owe a single thing to aliyah anyway, shes acting like she owns your life or what.

"ignore it okay? it will be fine." you gave her a soft smile and nodded. "okay."

"what are you doing after this?" paige asked and you looked up the ceiling trying to relist some things "well...probably just going to sleep in, im really tired." paige nodded and you collected your things "bye paige." she smiled as you made your way to your next class.

[multific]

Close Quarters

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: An injury leads you to a safe house with Simon. In there, you are forced to face your feelings for the Lieutenant. 

The cabin wasn’t much.

A single room, a battered couch, a fireplace. It was a temporary refuge, a hiding place in the middle of nowhere, and it was just the two of you.

Simon Riley wasn’t much for company.

He had been silent for most of the night, except for the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

His mask was still on, his broad frame looming in the dim light as he paced near the window, keeping watch like the soldier he was.

You were injured, nothing too severe, but enough that travelling through the storm outside wasn’t an option.

“I don’t bite,” you said, breaking the silence, and shifting on the couch. “You can sit down.”

His shoulders tensed. He was always like this, always cautious, even when it was just you. You had fought side by side before and had saved each other more times than you could count, but being this close and alone felt different.

After a long moment, he finally sighed and sat in the chair across from you, the wood creaking under his weight.

“How’s the leg?” His voice was rough and low, the concern buried beneath layers of detachment.

You flexed your ankle slightly, wincing at the dull pain. “Better. You did a good job patching me up.”

He grunted again, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something softer, unreadable.

Silence settled between you, the only sound of the wind howling outside.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, suppressing a shiver.

Simon noticed. He always noticed. With a sigh, he stood, grabbed another blanket from the small cot in the corner, and walked over. Instead of handing it to you, he draped it over you himself, his hands brushing against you briefly.

“Can’t have you freezing to death on my watch,” he muttered, stepping back.

You looked up at him, heart skipping. “And here I thought you didn’t care.”

Something flickered in his eyes again, something hesitant. He didn’t answer immediately, just stood there, watching you. Then, finally, he spoke.

“Course I care.”

Your breath caught.

He never said things like that, never admitted to anything, and yet, here he was, standing close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’re always looking after me,” you murmured.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Someone has to.”

Your fingers twitched against the blanket, resisting the urge to reach for him.

But then, as if sensing your hesitation, he surprised you. He sat down beside you, shifting awkwardly like he wasn’t sure how to be this close. The couch dipped under his weight, his thigh brushing yours.

“Get some rest,” he said, voice quieter now. “I’ll keep watch.”

For once, you didn’t argue.

Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, testing the boundary between you. He stiffened but didn’t pull away.

After a moment, you felt him shift slightly, adjusting so you were more comfortable.

It was a small thing, barely anything at all.

But to you, it was everything.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[inseobts]

Heyo, I hope you’re well and keeping nice and warm? I was wondering if you’d ever consider a continuation to Undercover Lovers, maybe with putting Hiyori in between? All good if you don’t think of continuing the story, take good care!! ❤️

Undercover Lovers Part 2

zoro x reader

while waiting for luffy and the others to return from whole cake island, you and the rest of the crew are forced to go undercover in wano, where your and zoro's cover as a loving couple quickly gets complicated.

PART 1

a/n: thank you cutie, hope you like it (ฅ́ ˘ฅ̀)♡

words count: 1.2k

tags: wci and wano spoilers, fake dating, romance, soft zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The streets of Wano are quieter at night, but the tension in the air never fades. You and Zoro maintain your cover, still pretending to be a loving couple, but something has shifted again since the arrival of Kozuki Hiyori.

She had appeared unexpectedly, her presence like a gentle breeze, graceful, elegant, and far too comfortable in Zoro’s personal space. At first, you brushed it off, knowing that she had her reasons for staying close to him. But as the days passed, irritation settled in your chest like an immovable weight.

After escaping Orochi’s men, you, Zoro, Hiyori, and Toko take shelter in an old, hidden house in the Ringo region. The place is small but safe, with only a single futon, a few worn-out blankets, and enough food to last for a few days. You expected this to be just another part of the mission, but soon, it starts feeling like something else entirely.

Like you don’t belong.

Hiyori insists on tending to Zoro’s wounds, her delicate hands carefully wrapping bandages around his torso. You sit in the corner of the room, arms crossed, watching in silence. Toko giggles as she plays nearby, occasionally running up to Zoro and poking his arm, completely at ease.

“You should be more careful, Zoro-san,” Hiyori murmurs, her voice soft “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

Zoro huffs “I’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch.”

You clench your jaw. A scratch? He was bleeding all over the place earlier, and now he’s letting Hiyori fuss over him like a doting wife? You should be the one doing that, you’re supposed to be his partner in this mission, not her. And after what happened with that Miyamoto man you really started feeling you and Zoro could be closer.

Hiyori dabs a cloth against Zoro’s chest, far too gentle for your liking. You shift uncomfortably, biting back the urge to yank the bandages from her hands and do it yourself.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Toko’s voice snaps you from your thoughts.

You force a smile “Yeah, just tired.”

Hiyori glances at you but says nothing. Instead, she returns to Zoro, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she continues tending to him. The sight makes your stomach twist.

Over the next few days, things only get worse. The house is small, which means you’re constantly near Zoro, Hiyori, and Toko. And with each passing moment, you feel more like an outsider.

Zoro and Toko have a strange yet adorable bond. She clings to him, calling him “Zorojuro” and making silly faces until he chuckles, something he rarely does. Then there’s Hiyori, who always sits gracefully beside him, laughing at his blunt words, tending to his wounds, and cooking meals as if this is their normal life.

It’s like you’ve walked into someone else’s home.

One evening, after dinner, Toko jumps onto Zoro’s back, giggling “Zorojuro! Carry me like a samurai!”

Zoro grunts but obliges, lifting her effortlessly. She throws her arms out, pretending to fly, while Hiyori watches with a soft, affectionate expression.

“You’re quite good with children, Zoro-san,” she comments “I think you’d make a wonderful father.”

You freeze. The image before you is too much... Zoro carrying Toko like a father playing with his child, Hiyori watching like a proud mother. And then there’s you, sitting in the corner like some outsider who stumbled into their perfect little family.

Zoro scoffs at Hiyori’s words “Not happening.”

Hiyori only smiles knowingly “You never know.”

Something in you snaps. You abruptly stand up, your chair scraping against the wooden floor “I’m going for some air.”

Zoro’s gaze flickers toward you, but he doesn’t stop you. Hiyori, on the other hand, tilts her head curiously “Be careful, Y/N.”

You step outside, taking a deep breath. The cold Wano air stings your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the sting in your chest. Why does this bother me so much?

You lean against the wall, closing your eyes. You’ve faced enemies, fought battles, and endured grueling missions. But somehow, watching Zoro with Hiyori and Toko feels like the hardest challenge yet.

Because for the first time, you’re not fighting an enemy.

You’re fighting the sinking feeling that maybe… you’re not needed here at all.

That night, when you finally return inside, Zoro is awake, sharpening his swords by the dim candlelight. Hiyori and Toko are already asleep, curled up comfortably in the futon. You hesitate in the doorway, watching the flickering light dance across Zoro’s face.

He doesn’t look up, but he speaks “You’ve been acting weird.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe “Weird how?”

Zoro sets his whetstone down and finally meets your gaze “You keep running off. Snapping at little things. Something bothering you?”

You scoff, shaking your head “Nothing. Just tired.”

His eyes narrow slightly “Bullshit.”

You exhale sharply, rubbing your temples “What do you want me to say, Zoro? That I feel like I don’t belong here? That I feel like I’m watching some perfect little family while I’m just… there?”

Zoro blinks, clearly caught off guard. He sets his sword aside, his gaze unreadable “You think that?”

You gesture toward the sleeping figures “Look at them. Look at you. It’s like you fit into this life so easily. And me? I’m just—”

“An idiot” Zoro interrupts.

You glare at him “Excuse me?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair “You really think I see it that way? Hiyori and Toko are just people I helped. That’s it. And yeah, they’re nice, but they’re not—” He pauses, exhaling heavily “They’re not you.”

Your breath catches “What?”

Zoro leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now “I’m not doing this mission with them. I’m doing it with you.”

His words send a warmth through your chest, but before you can process it, Zoro steps closer, his gaze locked onto yours. The air between you grows thick, and then without another word he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss is firm, reassuring, yet impossibly gentle. His hands find your waist, grounding you as your heart pounds against your ribs. You melt into him, gripping his yukata as if he’s the only thing keeping you steady.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours “That clear enough for you?” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You blink up at him, breathless “Yeah… pretty clear.”

“Go to sleep,” he mutters, picking up his sword again “Stop overthinking.”

You hesitate, but finally, you nod. As you lay down, the warmth in your chest lingers, pushing away the doubts. Maybe you weren’t just an outsider after all.

Maybe you actually had a place here, with him.

The next morning, the atmosphere is tense, but different. You’re still processing Zoro’s words when Hiyori approaches him with a bright smile “Zoro-san, would you like me to prepare your meal first?”

Before you can react, Zoro casually drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer “Nah. Y/N always eats with me first.”

Hiyori blinks in surprise, her eyes flicking between the two of you “Oh… I see.”

Toko giggles “Y/N and Zorojuro are togeeeeether!”

You feel your face heat up, but Zoro doesn’t let go. Instead, he smirks slightly, squeezing your shoulder just enough to make you relax “Yeah”

Hiyori simply smiles, nodding.

You glance up at Zoro, your heart hammering. He looks down at you with an easy smirk, his fingers gently tracing your back in an absentminded yet possessive gesture. And for the first time in days, you don’t feel like an outsider.

You feel like you belong.

With him.

[eugenedream]

oke so coffee break and thoughts

Dual marks bitcheeeeeessss yeeeee

GIVE ME BEARDED SIMON RIGHT NOW PLEASE I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT

we love a munch - si munch confirmed

poor kyle must have been so stressed. We know Si hasn’t help an Omega before and his experience with dynamics and relationships like this one is limited. Sweet kyle thinking Si would suffocate pookie bc he’s too far gone, kyle must have been concernneeed.

is kyle concerned about the mark?? is it bc he’s worried about a new dynamic or worried that he’s going to be replaced with jonnhy and that his alpha has been replaced? worried that those bonds are just too weak now? or just unsure how to feel? it is understandable

oh poor si, he’s not seen the after before has he? and it’s new for johnny bc it’s only the second time and this could be different than the sedation

SI TOOK THE RAG FOR HER ITS TOO CUTE LOOK AT HIM GO WITH THE CARER INSTINCTS WOOOOO

oh sweet boy. johnny is an ally and we love him so much. he feels his feelings big.

a chunk?? oh he really bite

CUDDLES WE LOVE SNUGGLES I WANNA BE IN THE SNUGGLE PILE

you did do really well johnny, sweet boy. i love him so bad - yeah have some one on one time babies, chill out and relax- are we progressing to mullet johnny??? GIVE ME CURLY MULLET JOHNNY PLS

THE BITE MARK TATTOO??!! slay

also, si being honest and vulnerable?! major slay

OH MY GOD THEY ARE SO CUTE - can we live forever in this domestic and wholesome moment? - i love this Si so much and i so happy that he isn’t as emotionally constrained, feel them feeling baby

ah he returns…interesting - v happy v cute we love cuddles however, DO NOT COME IN HERE AND MESS UP THE BALANCE THAT WE WORKED HARD TO FIX or i swear johnathan

Si and John affection??? I’d like to see more of this dynamic I’m so intrigued - also the fact that si and omega aren’t sick of each other after a heat?! phenomenal and very interesting right?! usually she’d be with the other boys right?!

MUMMY?! does that mean dad is dead? bc i can get behind that. who’s the man with her? a brother?? - also this doesn’t fix everything Johnathan, you still need to work on sharing your feelings and communication

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 46: My Girl

Summary: The aftermath of your heat brings about a new dynamic in your pack.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,382 words

Warnings: NSFW, smut, 18+, p in v sex, handjobs, heat cycles, mating cycles, heat sex, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, a/b/o, injuries, blood, slight medical stuff, slight angst, emotions, language

A/N: Yeah, prepare yourselves for this one

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

There’s a distinct metallic tang in the air as he’s pulled from the light sleep he’d drifted off into. Exhaustion is pulling at the recesses of his brain, trying to drag him back into the sweet arms of sleep, yet something is keeping him frozen there in the place between rest and wakefulness.

He knows that smell.

His brain feels foggy as he forces his eyes open. He feels almost drunk, his vision blurry, movements slow and brain fighting through the fog to awareness. He shifts his body, but something keeps him from moving too far.

Right. His knot. He’s still stuck inside you.

One arm is tucked under your neck, cradling your head against his bicep. He raises the other, rubbing his face. Clarity begins to return, but he can feel the haze lingering like fog on the horizon. Soon his knot will deflate and his rut will sweep in and take over again and he’ll lose all awareness.

How many days has it been? How much time has passed? How much time is left? He’s desperate to know, but there’s no telling. He gave his phone to Johnny, and you don’t have one. His mouth feels dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He leans over, shifting your body as he reaches for the bottle on the nightstand.

The metallic scent gets stronger as his nose presses against the pillow and he pauses there, hand extended.

He knows that smell.

His eyes flutter open, his body pushing itself up before he can stop it. His arm jerks from beneath you, elbow pressing into the mattress to hold himself up as he stares down in horror.

Blood.

There’s blood staining the white pillowcase.

Fear and panic bubble up inside of him as he stares at the red stains on the fabric. His hand is shaking as it slides around the side of your neck, fingers pressing below your jaw. Your pulse flutters against his fingers, slow and even. Your chest is rising and falling with your breath. You’re fast asleep, not even responding to his sudden movement. Sweat is beading his brow as he shifts his hips, tugging at the knot. You let out a whine, pushing your body back to try and follow him.

He keeps his fingers there, pushed up against your pulse. He waits for it to fade, waits for it to stop, but it keeps pumping steadily against his fingers. Your body is still hot pressed up against him, feverish and coated with sweat, not cold like your corpse would be.

It’s not that bad, he tries to reason with himself. It’s really not that much blood. Not in comparison to what he was expecting. You’re still alive, still breathing. You don’t even seem to have noticed.

He doesn’t want to stare at it anymore. He doesn’t want to see it.

He wraps his arms around you, keeping you pinned close to his chest as he rolls, taking you with him as he faces away from the blood stain. He takes a deep breath, staring at the blood stuck to your skin. It’s dried, an old wound. His stomach twists as he stares at the source, the violent indents torn into your shoulder where his teeth had made their mark.

He doesn’t remember doing it. He’s not sure when he did it. A while ago, he thinks, judging by the lack of fresh blood.

Just how long has it been?

He reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, half drunk and warm but he doesn’t care as he chugs it. He should rouse you, get you to eat and drink something, but he can’t bring himself to pull you out of your slumber yet. You need it. It must be getting close to the end. You’re less responsive, less energetic. You’re burning out. He can tell just by looking at you.

His cock hurts where it sits knotted inside of you. He knows that pain will fade shortly, when his knot finally deflates and another blast of your sickeningly sweet scent floods his brain. You’ll whine and keen, grinding down on him desperately. He’ll lose himself in that scent and fuck you again, ignoring the aches in his body as he gives you exactly what you need. Anything to get you to the end of this hard road where eventually the scent will fade and the neediness will die off and it’ll be back to normal life, like it never happened.

Jesus, how does Price do this?

There’s a release of pressure as his knot starts to deflate, his cock finally going soft inside of you. You let out a quiet whine as he shakes your shoulder, wanting to get some liquid into you before things ramp back up.

“C’mon.” He grunts, easing you onto your back. His cock slips out of your pussy, your body shuddering at the loss.

Hazy eyes stare up at him as he eases you up with his arm. Blood has dried across your chest, streaked by beads of sweat. He lifts the bottle to your lips and you drink, dribbles pouring down either side of your mouth but neither of you care. Just more fluids added to the already damp bed.

A bath is going to be a good idea, he thinks.

He tosses the empty bottle onto the floor and it clacks against another with a hollow sound. He shifts over you, pressing your body into the mattress as your scent starts to sweeten. Your hips lift, pushing against his as he settles his weight over you for a moment. He can feel the hot puffs of your breath against his scraggly face. A week without shaving and he’s already getting scruffy. Your poor thighs must be raw by this point.

A quiet buzzing begins in the back of his head as he breathes you in, pressing his forehead against yours. He lays there for a moment, his cock twitching where it’s trapped against your hip. You’re slick again, legs bending upwards to push against his thigh.

“Easy, girl.” He grunts, wincing as his cock gets caught between his hip bone and yours. “I’ve got ya.”

You’re slick and ready for him as he guides his half hard cock back into you. You let out a sigh of relief, arms lifting to wrap around him. You pull him down with surprising strength. He’s let you lead more times than he should admit, letting you take charge and take what you need from him. You’re fully prepared to do that again, prepared to get what you want whether he participates or not.

He won’t be that cruel. Not this late in the game.

He slowly starts rocking his hips, his cock stiffening inside of your warm, fluttering walls. Slick dribbles out around his cock, sliding down your ass and onto the perpetually wet sheets. The texture might have once driven him insane, but now he doesn’t care. He has bigger things to worry about right now, as his hips begin to move, rocking slowly back and forth as you cling to him.

“I think it’s over.” Johnny says, standing in the doorway.

The harsh scent of sweat, sex, and pheromones is wafting out the door behind him. He’s left it open, standing in the maw of darkness on the other side.

“How’s her temperature?” Dr. Keller asks.

“She’s cold.” Johnny says.

Dr. Keller shares a look with Kyle, both of them rising. “Help him while I get the bath going.” She says, heading for the downstairs bathroom.

Kyle slips into the room, turning on the light. Simon’s got his arms around you so tight he can see the muscles bulging. For a terrifying moment he’s worried he might have suffocated you, but he can see the twitch of your eyelids against the bright light. You let out a quiet whine, Simon shifting behind you.

He approaches the bed slowly, blinking through the haze of humid air and scents in the room. His hand touches your leg, feeling the cool skin beneath his hand. They’d let you sit longer than he might have had you been with Price, unsure whether it was the end or not. It’s been eight days since your symptoms started. They had thought it was the end a couple times, but Johnny came back out declaring a fever still, and shortly after it had started again.

Dr. Keller had assured them time and time again a week was only an average estimate. Some heats lasted longer, some shorter. It depended on a lot of things.

Kyle had just been busy eyeing the dwindling supplies while the hours continued to pass.

They babysat in shifts, taking turns sleeping every few hours. Kyle hadn’t been able to rest much, even though now he had the chance to. His brain was still on high alert, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. He’s exhausted and he didn’t even participate this time.

His hand trails up the cool skin of your thigh, gently parting them to check. No knot, but Simon is still half inside of you. He lowers your thigh gently before taking another step, his hand touching Simon’s arm gently.

“Simon, mate, come on. It’s over.”

Simon lets out a grunt, squeezing his arms around you until you let out a quiet squeak before he loosens them.

“Let’s get you in a bath. You’ll feel better.”

Simon mumbles sleepily, but lets Kyle slowly ease him away from you. Johnny takes his other side as they get the alpha on his feet.

“I got ‘im.” Johnny grunts, taking Simon’s weight as he leads the half out of it alpha out of the room and across to the bathroom.

Kyle focuses his attention on you. You’ve started shivering from the loss of Simon’s warmth, your body curling up in on itself. “I know.” Kyle says quietly. “We’ll get you in that bath shortly.”

He drapes a clean blanket over you, wanting to keep you warm while he waits for Simon to get settled. He brushes damp strands of hair from your face. It’s come almost completely out of the braid, and he can imagine Simon sinking his fingers into the soft strands, pinning you down onto the mattress. He’d worried for a while that Simon might not have that instinct to make sure you could breathe, that he wouldn’t know to check to make sure he wasn’t suffocating you.

“He’s settled!” Johnny calls from the living room and Kyle slips his arms under you.

You let out a whine of protest at the sudden movement as Kyle lifts you into his arms. He shushes you gently, letting the blanket drop to the floor before carrying you over to the bathroom. It’s steamy in the small space, Johnny hovering in the doorway as Kyle gently eases you into the water with Simon. It rises precariously high, but he tries not to think about that as he lets you drop back against Simon’s chest.

“You sit in here with them, I’ll change the sheets and get the bed ready.” Kyle says to Johnny before leaving the warm bathroom.

The sheets.

He tries not to think about it as he grabs a bin bag from the kitchen. The sheets were new, bought specifically for this in case they needed to be thrown out after. He’s glad they got a new set as he stares down at the damp white fabric. He tries not to look too hard, tries not to stare at the stain up near the pillows. He’s glad they got more of those too.

He swallows the lump in his throat as he strips the fitted sheet, stuffing it in the bag immediately with the plastic protector. He doesn’t bother removing the pillow case, instead shoving the entire pillow in the bag before pulling the drawstring closed. The sooner he can get it out of sight, the sooner he can forget about it.

He makes the bed with clean sheets, putting the comforter back on in preparation to keep you warm. He adds new pillows and a few of your stuffed animals for comfort, arranging them in a way he thinks you might be satisfied with.

Maybe it will drive you to finally nest.

Johnny sits on the closed toilet lid, staring at the water just kissing the lip of the tub. Simon’s knees are bent, forced up by the small size of the tub. He doesn’t offer any complaint, doesn’t offer much at all except the quiet rumbling in his chest. His nose is buried in your hair, his breathing slow and even as he sits there in the warm water.

Despite the steam in the air, you’re shivering.

He swears he can almost hear your teeth chattering as you sit there in the nearly too warm water. It’s normal, Kyle had told him. Just your body responding to the sudden change in temperature.

He tries not to stare too long, especially at your shoulder. There’s still blood streaked on your skin. He should grab a rag and wash it off, but he’s scared to ruin the quiet moment between you and Simon.

It’s the quietest the house has been in eight days.

“Simon?” Johnny whispers, shifting in his seat.

The alpha grunts, cracking his eyes open.

“Ye want a drink or somethin’?” Johnny is starting to feel a bit restless. “Or a rag tae wash yerself with?”

Simon grunts again, finally lifting his face from the top of your head. “Rag would be nice.” He mumbles.

Johnny nods, quickly searching through the cupboards before finding a stack of wash cloths. He grabs two just in case, passing one to Simon. He watches his alpha dip it into the water, getting it wet before he starts to run it over your skin. You’re still shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

He traces the path of Simon’s hand as it gently smooths over your skin in an attempt to clean some of the grime off. You’ll need a proper bath once you’ve settled, a process that will take a couple days at least. He remembers crawling into your nest with you after your last heat with Price, holding you while you slept. He’d needed rest himself after keeping Simon pacified for a week. He remembers the ache in his body after that and can only imagine how Simon is feeling right now.

Johnny nearly jumps out of his skin as you let out a yelp, water splashing over the edge of the tub as your body jolts. Simon’s hand is on your shoulder, holding the rag against the raw skin. He imagines you might have jumped right out of the tub had it not been for Simon’s arm around you. He’s whispering quietly to you as your lip begins to tremble, a quiet sob leaving your lips. It tugs at Johnny’s heart as he watches you, big, fat tears starting to leak out from beneath your lashes.

Kyle had warned him about that too.

Simon takes the other rag from him, wiping your face and hair before maneuvering you so he can wipe himself down quickly. Johnny sticks his fingers into the water, feeling the temperature.

“Gettin’ cold.” He murmurs, debating pulling the plug and refilling it.

“Everything okay?” Kyle appears in the doorway, likely having heard your yelp.

“Wiped down the wound.” Johnny says, glancing up at his fellow beta. “Water’s gettin’ cold.”

“Then we should get them back in bed. It’s ready for them.” Kyle says, grabbing one of the towels from the counter. “Get Simon up and I’ll help dry him off.”

Johnny pulls the plug in the tub before slipping his arms under Simon’s as the alpha struggles to get his feet under him. Your body slumps forward and he’s glad Kyle is there as he quickly shifts to keep you upright in the water. The tears are still sliding down your cheeks, quiet sniffling sobs wracking your body almost as badly as the shivers.

Kyle helps Simon dry before leading him from the room, taking him back to yours. Johnny eases you up out of the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around you to keep you from the cold.

“Easy, kitten.” He shushes you at your whine in protest as he quickly dries you off before lifting you out of the tub.

He heads back across the living room to your room, the overhead light still on. He can’t imagine what it’s like for an alpha doing this alone. How many omegas don’t get the treatment they deserve because of their alpha being alone? How many don’t get it because of their alpha?

He tries not to think too hard about it.

Simon is resting against the headboard when he enters the room, legs spread and ready for you to be deposited back into his arms. He’s still naked, something Johnny is proud of. How far Simon has come in just a couple of weeks. From barely showing any skin, much less his face, to walking around naked. Not that Simon really seems to care much right now. He can only imagine how much pain Simon must be in and just how exhausted he has to be. He looks ready to sleep for the rest of the night.

Johnny eases you onto the bed, setting you between his legs. He pulls the towel from around you, Kyle there ready to tuck the covers up over you as soon as he gets the damp fabric away. Your face is still wet with tears as Kyle steps away, Simon’s arms wrapping around you again. You relax limply against the alpha, pain and exhaustion wearing on you as well.

“It’s hard to watch.” He says, his heartstrings tugging as he stares at the two of you.

“It’s just a natural response.” Kyle says, reaching up to wipe a tear sliding down your cheek. “They’re both tired and being dragged through the sudden change in chemicals in their brains.”

“Knock, knock.” Christine says, leaning into the doorway. “Got them settled?”

“Yeah.” Kyle says, adding another blanket to the pile on top of you to try and regulate your temperature again.

She stands there for a few moments, waiting as Simon turns to glance at her. She doesn’t move, waiting for a reaction from him before taking a step into the room.

She approaches the bed slowly, Simon watching her cautiously but he offers no protest to her getting closer. Johnny can only imagine what’s going on in his head right now. “I just want to check a couple of things.” She says, setting the first aid kit down on the end of the bed.

Simon’s eyes are still on her as she takes a couple steps closer, moving slowly.

“Hi, honey.” She says softly, addressing you as she pulls out the thermometer. “Just want to take your temperature, make sure everything is back to normal.” She presses the thermometer against your forehead. It beeps a few seconds later, Simon’s arms tightening around you for a moment before they relax. “Normal. That’s good.” She says, setting the thermometer down before sliding the first aid kit closer. “I need to look at your shoulder.”

Neither of you move as she stands there for a moment, testing the waters before lifting her hand towards you. Simon doesn’t move, his eyes focused on her hand as it touches you, gently easing your head to the side and the covers down lower.

“You did take a chunk out.” She says, brushing your hair to the side to look at the wound. “I need to clean it.”

She pulls away from you to open the first aid kit, grabbing the antiseptic and some gauze. She pours some of it on the fabric before turning to you again.

Things happen fast, but to Johnny they seem to take a lifetime. Dr. Keller presses the gauze against your shoulder and you let out a yelp similar to the one you let out in the bath. Your body jerks, trying to move away but you’re too stuck under the blankets to move much. Johnny instinctively shifts forward, Kyle moving too before either of them realize it, converging on the bed.

Simon lets out a growl, baring his teeth as his hand darts out faster than they can see to grip Dr. Keller’s wrist so tight Johnny can see his knuckles go white. She holds out her other hand, staying the two betas as she keeps her gaze locked on Simon’s.

“I’m not trying to hurt her.” She says softly, holding eye contact with the protective alpha. “I have to get this wound clean, otherwise it’s going to get infected.”

There’s a tense moment of silence in the room, none of them even breathing as they wait. Simon could easily break Dr. Keller’s wrist. He’s strong enough, in a good enough position to do it. The doctor is fearless as she stares at him, facing him head on in a way that almost reminds Johnny of you. He and Kyle are frozen, halfway to the bed to intervene if they have to.

The tension eases as Simon slowly releases Christine’s wrist. His arm tucks itself back around you, holding you tightly against him, the growl rumbling in his chest quieting. Slowly Dr. Keller moves again, pressing the gauze against your shoulder. Simon holds you still as she cleans the wound, all of them trying to ignore your whines and whimpers of pain.

Dr. Keller dresses the wound before grabbing the first aid kit. “Get some rest.” She says. “You need it.”

Johnny and Kyle pass one last look at the pair in the bed before following her from the room. Kyle turns off the lights, leaving the door ajar just in case.

“That was fucking close.” Johnny lets out a deep breath.

“Territorial alphas aren’t new to me.” Dr. Keller says with a shrug. “He’s just doing what his instincts are telling him and protecting his omega. He’s still sensitive to them and will be for a while.” She lets out a huffing laugh. “I’m surprised he let me close at all.”

“John didn’t react that way.” Kyle says.

“Simon’s never been through a heat before. This is entirely new territory for him. His alpha isn’t sure how to respond right now, especially to someone outside the pack.” Dr. Keller explains.

“Yer hardly an outsider now.” Johnny says.

“Honorary, perhaps, but in the literal sense I’m an outsider.” She says. “We’ll have to be careful for a while around him. No doubt he’s going through it just as much as she is.”

“Thank ye,” Johnny says, grateful for the doctor over the last week. She’s been keeping them sane. “For everythin’. Fer caring.”

“Of course.” Christine smiles softly at him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

“Johnny.”

The beta turns his head, squinting slightly at Simon in the dim light of the room. He’d left the overhead light off to avoid waking either of you. It’s cloudy out and the curtains are drawn, leaving nothing but dim, grey light to see by.

“Hey.” He grins down at Simon, the alpha blinking up at him blearily. “Welcome back.”

Simon grunts, adjusting his body where he lays on his side. You’re bundled against his chest, quiet snores breaking the quiet in the room.

“Can I get ye anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to the bed. He’d been replacing the bottle of water with a cold one.

“A pint and a cigarette.” Simon grumbles.

Johnny grins. “I can get ye a beer out of the fridge, but you’ll have tae wait on the smoke.”

Simon grumbles something as he presses his cheek against the top of your head. He unburies his hand from the blankets, reaching out for Johnny. It’s warm as Johnny takes it, letting his fingers brush Simon’s rough palm.

“You’re a good lad, Johnny.” Simon says softly, squeezing the beta’s hand. “Wouldn’t have made it far without ya.”

“You’re a good alpha.” Johnny says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Simon hums, stilling as you shift against him. He tugs gently on Johnny’s hand, trying to pull him onto the bed.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’,” Johnny says, kicking off his slippers before lifting the sheets.

It’s warm under the blankets and for a moment Johnny wishes he would have ditched the sweatpants too. He saddles up close behind you, feeling the warmth of your body radiating against his chest. You’re still naked, and so is Simon as he brushes his hand against Simon’s hip.

“Pretty boy.” Simon hums, wrapping his arm around Johnny and pulling him closer. “Such a good beta f’me and my girl.”

Johnny’s brain starts to buzz happily at his alpha’s praise, his beta nearly preening inside his head. He did a good job, he took good care of his alpha and his omega. You’re both alive and well and breathing.

You let out a quiet hum as Johnny presses up against your back, sandwiching you between him and Simon. It feels right, having you there between them. Things have shifted now that Simon has claimed you as well. He wonders if Kyle felt this way after John claimed you. There’s a deeper intensity to your bond, or perhaps that was because of your heat. He was given the opportunity to assist during such a vulnerable, intimate time and bear witness to something so beautiful and primal.

Perhaps it’s both.

“You’re thinking too much.” Simon grumbles, running a hand over Johnny’s head before it wraps around you both, pulling you both impossibly close.

Johnny snuggles down into the blankets, letting his eyes drift closed for a moment.

You’re sweating.

It’s hot where you are, trapped between two bodies under a mountain of blankets. For a moment you thought you were having an unusual moment of clarity during your heat, but you remember that’s over. It’s been over for almost a day. It’s dark in the room, only the warm glow of the nightlight keeping the darkness at bay.

You push back against the body behind you but it’s solid, draped in place against your back. You need to get out, free yourself from the suffocating heat.

You manage to get yourself seated upright between Simon and Johnny, shoving the blankets down towards the end of the bed.

“What’re ye doing?” Johnny mumbles sleepily.

“’S too hot.” You murmur, wincing as you shift. There’s a steady ache between your thighs and you feel raw and sore.

“Go back to sleep.” Simon grunts, grabbing the blankets before pulling them up again, rolling so his back is to you.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead, grimacing at the grimy feel of your skin.

“Ye doin’ okay?” Johnny asks, pushing himself up to sit.

“Will you help me shower?” You ask quietly, trying not to disturb Simon again. You doubt he’d be so nice a second time. He has to be as tired as you are, but you’re too aware of how gross you feel to think about going back to sleep yet.

“’Course, kitten.” He says, sliding off the bed to stand. He’s in sweatpants, and you don’t know how he isn’t dying of heatstroke. “C’mere.” he holds his arms out and you shuffle over, hiding the pain from the jolting movements.

He slips his arms under you before lifting you easily, carrying you to the en-suite.

He sits you down on the toilet seat as he starts the shower. Your body aches, deep in your muscles and joints. You probably should bathe so you can sit, but the idea of pressure anywhere near the place between your thighs has you wincing at the thought.

Johnny holds his hand under the stream until he’s satisfied with the temperature, turning back to you. You stare up at him, his hair starting to get shaggy again. His mohawk has gotten longer, the hair starting to droop and stick to his forehead.

“Will you help me?” You ask, blinking up at him.

He blinks back before a grin forms on his face. “Sure thing, kitten.”

He seems all to eager to drop his sweatpants and strip off his shirt, revealing soft muscle underneath. He’s lost some of the definition. They all have after being away from the harsh requirements of the military for months now. You wonder how long it will take to get it back, how hard they’ll have to work to get themselves back into the state they were when you met them for the first time. Hardened soldiers dedicated to the machine that is the military.

You know they’re never going to give it up. You’ve surrendered to that fact.

Johnny helps you to your feet, letting you move slowly on shaky legs towards the shower. You definitely should have gone for a bath but you’re determined as you step under the warm spray.

It’s like heaven, gliding over your skin, relaxing tense muscles. Johnny closes the door as he steps in next to you, his hands sliding to your hips to help hold you up as you bask in the water flowing over you. You stand there for a few moments, already feeling better just having water washing away the grime of a week being covered repeatedly in body fluids.

It’s gross, when you think about it. You try not to think too much.

Johnny’s hands leave your hips as he grabs your soap, squirting some onto his hand before starting to lather it over your skin. You lean back against him, letting him wash you. His hands rub over your stomach and up under your breasts. They’re sore, your nipples raw. Whether that’s from friction or Simon you’re unsure. Maybe both.

Johnny is gentle as he washes you, gentler than you might have been doing it yourself, but you’re touched nonetheless. He peppers soft kisses against your shoulders and the top of your head as he works shampoo through your hair. You hum quietly as he massages your scalp, even that sore after Simon’s rough handling.

He took good care of you, though. You can hardly complain about a few aches and pains.

A lot of aches and pains.

You press back against Johnny, feeling something poking you in the ass and you roll your eyes. “Can’t help it, can you?” You ask.

“Yer so fuckin’ beautiful.” Johnny murmurs, wrapping his arms around you. “Ye have no idea what it was like seein’ ye like that.”

Cock drunk and completely ignorant of the world? “I can only imagine.” You say. “Did you…”

“No.” He says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Didnae have time, worryin’ about ye. ‘Bout killed me.”

You smirk. “I bet.”

While the idea of sticking anything inside of your body is less than pleasant, you know you can at least do something for him. He deserves it after taking such good care of you and Simon, after all.

You turn in his arms, sliding your hand down your stomach. He stares down at you as you wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing gently. He’s hard and almost throbbing in your hand. You can only imagine the torture he had to endure, listening to you and Simon fuck for a week straight. You’re surprised he didn’t join.

You stare up into his eyes as you begin to move your hand, stroking his cock. His eyes are so blue, almost hypnotic as you find yourself getting lost in his gaze. You wrap an arm around his waist, leaning against him to hold yourself up as you jerk him off, twisting your hand across the sensitive length. His arm wraps around your back, his hand coming to rest on your hip. He squeezes gently and you ignore the ache from his fingers pressing into the sore skin. No doubt you have bruises there from Simon’s hands.

Johnny moans quietly, his face pressing into your hair as you continue to stroke his cock. His chest is heaving with his breath, his other hand rising to rest against the shower wall. His muscles flex and relax, his entire body trembling. You can only imagine how sensitive he is after a week of having to listen to you fuck his alpha.

“You gonna cum?” You ask, staring up at him as you quicken your pace, squeezing your hand gently around him. “You gonna cum for me?”

He lets out almost a whine as his hips buck into your hand. “Fuck, yes!” He moans, his cock twitching in your hand.

You drag your thumb across his tip, teasing the rim of his cock before you start stroking his length again, moving your hand as fast as you can. He presses his face into the top of your head, his body shuddering as he spurts his cum all over your hand. You continue to stroke him, working him through his orgasm.

“Fucking christ.” He breathes, wrapping both of his arms around you. You’re grateful for it as your legs ache from standing for so long. “So fucking good to me.” He kisses the top of your head. “We don’t deserve you, ye know that?”

You pull back to stare up at him, the water starting to go cold. There’s such love and conviction in his gaze it almost knocks the breath from your lungs. You think over his words, the admission coming out of seemingly nowhere, brought on in a moment of passion.

“It’s true.” Johnny says, turning off the water, his arm still wrapped around you. “Ye deserve better than us.”

“Where is this coming from?” You ask as he helps you out of the shower, drying you off gently with a towel. Your legs are starting to shake from exhaustion and you’re ready to crawl back into bed with Simon.

“Just been thinkin’ about it recently.” He says, wrapping the towel around you. “What with John runnin’ off and thinkin’ about what’s gonnae happen next.”

You swallow nervously as he carries you back to the bed. “What do you think is going to happen next?” You say as he runs the towel over your hair to try and squeeze as much water out as possible.

He’s silent for a few moments, the nerves continuing to twist in your stomach. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been thinking about it as well. The eight days of your heat was a relief from having to worry about anything other than getting fucked and bred.

“I don’t know.” He answers after a moment, fiddling with the towel in his hands.

His answer doesn’t offer you any comfort.

Simon has a dark look on his face as you hold his gaze in the mirror.

“It’s gonna be a nasty scar.” He grumbles, his eyes dropping to your shoulder. The wound has started to scab over, some bits of it already turning white and scarring. It’s rough and ragged compared to the clean, even bite on the other side. It’s a perfect mirror of your two alphas, you think. Simon rough and ragged around the edges while John is firm and steady.

“I don’t know, I kind of like it.” You say, running your fingers over the sore skin before rubbing more Vaseline over it to keep it moist. “It’s your mark.” He winces, turning away from the mirror. “You’re regretting it.” You say, turning around to watch him as he leaves the bathroom.

“No, it’s just...it was a stir of the moment move.” He says, dropping himself to sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Would have liked to discuss it more before doin’ it.”

“Well I don’t regret it.” You say, approaching him. “I like that you did it. I like the idea of being claimed by you.”

He snorts, focused on the floor instead of you. It’s strange, seeing him become so vulnerable in front of you. There was a time he would have never let you so close, and now he’s sitting in front of you without a mask, both literally and metaphorically.

You wrap your fingers around his wrists, lifting his hands to your face as you come to stand between his knees. “You shouldn’t regret it.” You say softly, his dark eyes finally turning up to your face. “I would have asked you to do it eventually. You just saved me from having to broach an awkward conversation.”

“It wouldn’t have been awkward.” He mumbles.

“It so would have been.” You grin. “You would have made it weird.”

“Little shit.” He breathes, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

You hold his left hand in the air, trailing your fingers over his tattoos. You pause when you spot something that you’ve never seen before. You sit yourself down on his knee, studying the new mark. “Simon...what is this?” You ask, trailing your fingers around the oval shaped tattoo. “Is it...a bite mark?”

“Yours.” He says simply, shrugging when you turn to look at him.

“When did I bite you?” You ask.

“Right before I scruffed you.” He explains. “Sunk your teeth right in. I’ve got tattoos for the others, thought it was a perfect addition.”

“You tattooed my bite mark on your skin?” You blink, turning your gaze back to the tattoo. “Out of all the things you could have tattooed, you chose my bite mark?”

“It’s a reminder that I’m not as destructive as I like to think.” He says. “That maybe I can do some good for my pack.”

You blink back tears as you stare up into those chocolate brown eyes. “That’s so sweet.”

“It’s also a reminder of just how feisty you are, you little shit.” He says, squeezing his arms tight around you and flopping back on the bed.

You giggle as you’re pulled with him, winding up laying on his chest. You smile as you stare down at him, trailing your fingers over his handsome face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank you for what you did.”

“You lived. That’s thanks enough.” He says, brushing his fingers over your face.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Someone’s feeling sappy this morning.”

He rolls his eyes, flipping you over so he’s hovering over you. “Someone else is feeling annoying today.”

“I only do it cause I love you.” You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smirks. “You love me?”

“Course I do.” You say, pulling him down for another kiss.

“Good.” He murmurs against your lips before pulling away, pushing himself up to stand.

He stares down at you as you lay there, running your tongue across your lips to savor every last bit of his taste on your skin.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He groans, adjusting his pants.

You smirk, pushing yourself up to sit, staring at the bulge starting to form at the front of his jeans. You flick your gaze up to his eyes, staring at him from under your lashes. You’re still nowhere near ready for a good fuck after your heat, still sore and bruised. You doubt he’d be ready either. He has to be sore too after popping a knot constantly over the course of eight days.

Yet you can feel the bulge of his hardening cock as you push yourself up to stand, your chest pressed against his. You stand there for a long moment, staring up at him before a small smirk forms on your face. “It’s time for breakfast.”

You slip past him, heading for the door.

“You little shit.”

Five days have passed since your heat when you hear the crunching of gravel under tires outside. You glance up from your book, Simon looking up from his. Your omega shifts in the back of your mind, responding to his alpha as he’s suddenly on high alert. He marks his place in the book, your eyes following him as he pushes himself up to stand, moving towards the small window facing the front of the cottage.

You watch nervously as he glances out the window, his shoulders tense, body on high alert. Kyle has risen from his seat at the table, picking up on the alpha’s sudden shift in mood. Both of you watch him, his scent intensifying for a moment before his shoulders drop, his body relaxing.

He moves to the door, you and Kyle sharing a look as he pulls it open. “You could have told us you were coming.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

You’re on your feet at the sound of the voice, moving around the back of the couch. You pause there, waiting with bated breath as the figure appears in the doorway, patting Simon’s arm.

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Been a couple weeks.” Simon says.

“Only a couple.” John says as he steps past Simon into the house.

Tears gather in your eyes as you stare at him, his gaze immediately landing on you. Both of you just stand there, John waiting for you to move while you decide what you want to do. Part of you wants to walk up and smack him, berate him for leaving you like that. Another part of you wants to stomp away angrily and lock yourself in your room to punish him.

You take a few steps forward, approaching your alpha slowly. He doesn’t move, standing still as you come right up to him. His gaze holds yours as you stand there for a moment before throwing your arms around him. He grunts slightly as you collide with him, squeezing your arms around him as tightly as you can. His arms wrap around you, holding you just as tightly against him.

“I missed you.” You whisper, a few stray tears leaking out of your eyes.

“I know.” He says quietly, pressing his nose into the top of your head. “I missed you too.”

His scent washes over you, the fresh scent of petrichor, the deep earthy forest. Your omega purrs happily, the sound rumbling through your chest as you hold him close. He doesn’t let you go either, keeping his arms around you tight. He breathes in your scent, his warm breath fanning over the top of your head. You don’t care that you’re still a bit sore and bruised, you don’t care that you want to scream at him and tell him off for leaving you for so long. You don’t care about much except for the fact he’s here. He’s back.

You never want him to leave again.

Slowly you unravel yourself from him, his hands rising to cup your face. His thumbs are rough as they wipe away your tears, cupping your face gently. You sniffle as you stare up into his blue eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. He’s back. He’s here with you again. The relief flushes out the anger. You’ll get mad at him later. Right now you just want to bury yourself in him and never let go.

He smiles down at you, running a hand over your hair. “Did they take good care of you?” He asks.

You nod. “Really good care.”

His eyes flutter to your shoulder, and suddenly a new set of nerves has started twisting in your stomach. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that Simon marked you. What is he going to think? Will he get territorial? Will he be upset? Will he blame you for letting it happen? What if he kicks Simon out of the pack for claiming his omega as well?

His fingers brush over the quickly healing wound, only a few scabs still lingering from where Simon’s teeth dug in deep. “I see Simon took good care of you too.”

You swallow nervously, nodding. “He did.”

John stares down at the mark for a tense moment before a smile forms on his face. “Good.”

A bit of tension leaves your shoulders at his seeming relief that you were well taken care of. He doesn’t seem angry or upset or even disappointed that Simon marked you as well.

He steps back away from you and you feel a body appear behind you. You turn your head, staring up at Kyle but his eyes are on John. You step out from between them, watching them carefully. Kyle must share some of the same feelings as you. Relief, anger, disappointment. For a moment you think he might be the one to tell John off, throw a punch, but instead his hands cup John’s face and he leans forward to kiss him.

You watch with wide eyes as Kyle kisses John, dragging his body as close as he can. He’s had to miss John as much as you have, if not more. You regret not spending more time with him, discussing your missing alpha, taking comfort in each other. Then again, it’s been a long couple of weeks.

Kyle pulls away from John, still holding his face in his hands. “Don’t ever do that again.”

John smiles softly at his beta. “I don’t plan on it.”

They both turn to look at you, John holding an arm out to you. You step forward into their embrace, both of them wrapping their arms around you, pulling you in close. You breathe in the mixed scents, a tension you didn’t know you were carrying starting to relax in the back of your mind. Your omega purrs happily, the sound rumbling through your chest as well.

Simon stares up at your ceiling, tracing the lines of the shadows cast by your nightlight. He can’t sleep, his mind reeling. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous at John’s return. A lot happened while he was gone, and he hadn’t even considered what John’s reaction would be when he discovered the mark on your other shoulder. Anger, disappointment? He expected the worst, but he hadn’t expected such an...almost relieved reaction.

The door handle turns, Simon’s body tensing. He’s alert, staring at the void of darkness opening up as the door pushes open. You shift against his chest, sensing the change in him even in your sleep. He holds his breath, listening, waiting for any indication of who is creeping in, in the middle of the night.

The tension eases, oxygen filling his lungs as John appears in the doorway, slipping in before closing it again.

“Thought you’d be asleep.” He rumbles quietly.

“Can’t.” Simon whispers.

John hums, moving over to the side of the bed. He reaches over, running a hand over your hair. “It’ll never cease to amaze me how easily omegas sleep.”

“Pretty sure she’d sleep through a bomb if she were tired enough.” Simon says.

John chuckles quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

Simon nods, his thumb brushing your arm. “You asked me to.”

“But you still did it.” John says, staring at his fellow alpha with a pointed look. “You could have said no.”

Simon shrugs. “Figured it was time.” He leans his chin on top of your head. “After all we’ve been through.”

John hums again, trailing his fingers across your back. “Didn’t expect you to claim her too.”

“Didn’t plan on that.” He says honestly. “Was a heat of the moment thing.”

“I’m not mad.” John says. “I’m glad you did it. That was always the plan. If something would have happened to me…”

“But it didn’t.” Simon interrupts him.

“And it won’t.” John says, toeing off his shoes before shifting on the bed to lay behind you.

“He’s really gone?” Simon asks after a moment of silence.

“You saw the pictures.” John says. “It’s what he deserved.”

Simon hums quietly, shifting onto his side. You stir against his chest before settling again, a quiet snore leaving your lips. “Where do we go from here?”

“That’s a worry for tomorrow.” John says. “It’s too late for those kinds of thoughts.” He reaches over, running his fingers across Simon’s cheek. “Get some rest.”

“Easier said than done.” Simon says, fighting a yawn.

John smiles softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Simon’s eyes flutter closed, his grip around you starting to relax as the comforting energy of his fellow alpha eases away the thoughts in his head until only silence remains.

You’re sitting on the couch again when the sound of gravel crunching under tires reaches your ears again. You look up from your book, sharing a look with Johnny whose gaze has been drawn up from his sketch pad. He’s not expecting this either, apparently. He’s immediately on edge, his body tensing as he sits up straighter, dropping the sketch pad on the coffee table.

Both of you turn to look at John as he comes down the stairs, looking far too relaxed for the situation. Someone unknown has arrived to place that’s supposed to be secure. Shepherd is dead, you know that. You trust John’s word, but there was still the threat of those with orders lingering in the shadows, those who the news hasn’t reached yet.

“They’re early.” John says, moving towards you. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

You stare at his hand as he holds it out to you. You hate surprises. He knows that, yet he continues to spring them on you. You hesitate but take his hand, letting him pull you up off the couch and to the door. He opens it, letting in a blast of cold air. You’re not dressed to be outside.

You step out onto the porch, staring at the car that’s pulled up. The doors open and you recognize Kate getting out of the driver’s side. It’s an unexpected sight. You haven’t seen her since you killed Phil.

The passenger side door opens and your gaze is drawn there. Another woman climbs out of the car, the back door opening and a man steps out. You stare at them for a moment, your breath leaving your lungs as the woman turns around. You almost don’t recognize her. It’s been a few years, far too many years.

Tears blur your vision, morphing her into nothing but a blurry figure but you know. Deep down you know.

“Mom?”

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[davinawritings]

Minotaur Husband Drabble

Okay, so many months ago, I made a post about getting nipple piercings to match Minotaur Husband’s nose piercing, (Link Here) and I just thought of something else about that. So we know there’s no touching for several months while the piercing heals, right? But can you imagine when they do finally heal…

Your husband has spent months only being able to stare at your tits but not touch, lick, or suck. You are both well aware that it’s his favorite body part of yours. He doesn’t stop staring at your chest even more now. To him, wearing those tight tops is like a blessing and a curse. The ones that hug your tits so tight and allow him to see the outline of the piercings. He had practically banned you from wearing bras once you both moved in together, and the last few months truly put him to the test.

Fortunately, all that waiting was finally over, which brings you to the present moment. The second you had told your minotaur that you were fully healed, he had you in his lap, and your shirt ripped right off. It’s been almost an hour of him plating with your now puffy and swollen nipples. Denying your dripping cunt any stimulation other than some light grinding. Each time you try to take it further, he tells you not to rush him as he makes up for lost time with your chest.

“I spent months being tortured, baby; you can handle a few hours,” he told you with a grin. Your answering whine only made his grin widen. 

You writhe on his lap, trying to get any stimulation as he continues relentlessly with your chest. Each bite, lick, and suck sends electric currents to your swollen clit. He’s keeping you right on the edge but not giving you the final push to fall into your climax. You aren’t sure how much more you can take. All thoughts are consumed with riding his large cock until you have tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation. 

Not even pulling and stroking his sensitive horns is enough to make him give in a fuck you properly. Usually, one slight touch is enough, but months of being denied his favorite part of you made him unwilling to give it up now that he finally has it again.

You are definitely in for a long night. After all, he has months of lost time to make up for…

🖤💕❤️❤️💕🖤

[cherrycheolkat]

Hi kat!!!

Omg hmo ✋️

Big dick cheol + hate sex from bingo v.3 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

okie so i've heard you and your doppleganger lol so this is your version of this and they will get something else - ideally you both enjoy them

♡ kat

bingo square: bigdick!cheol + hate sex

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

summary: seungcheol wants to know if y/n really hates him

genre: college au, collegestudent!cheol, collegestudent!reader

word count: 0.7k

rating: 18+, mdni

warnings: explicit language, smut, fingering, mentioned penetrative sex

he groaned as he pulled out, “fuck, you’re gaping for me, baby,” he breathed roughly, his fingers replacing his dick, stretching you, literally just playing with your pussy. 

you smacked his hand away, “such an idiot,” you shighed. 

he was already running his hands along your inner thighs, biting his lip roughly, “how do you have such a perfect cunt?” 

you rolled your eyes, “how did you end up with a decent cock?”

he laughed, “decent? is that all it is - just ‘decent’ when i’m making you scream for me?” he squeezed your thighs roughly - his touch felt too familiar. it was annoying how familiar he felt between your legs - how good he felt. 

you groaned and moved to sit up, but he was quicker, leaning down and pressing you back into the mattress, nipping roughly at your throat. your hands seemed to go to his hair without thought, tracing over his scalp, loving the things his lips were doing. 

“did i say we were finished?” he whispered, breath warm and sweet next to your ear. 

you whined softly, pulling his hair gently, “it’s like 3 am - you don’t want your roommates to know you’re in here fucking me, the queen bitch or whatever you call me now,” you whispered. 

“why not? i can tell them how i finally made you so dumb for my dick, you actually shut up for once,” he kissed your throat roughly, “it’s actually kind of a win for me,” he mumbled, licking gently over the places he had been rough with before, “my dick is so good, even you like it, miss-i-hate-seungcheol,” he nuzzled close, his lips teasing your collarbones.

your hands traced over his shoulders, loving how wide they were, how muscular. his body was one thing you had never complained about. and he was right - you did love his dick. 

you hummed softly, “maybe i don’t want them to know you’re fucking me, since it’s kind of embarassing,” you said, your fingernails pressing gently into his skin. 

he only nuzzled closer, “when are you going to stop being mean to me?”

his voice was so low and good and entirely too soft - you were still playing with his hair, smoothing the tangles you had made. you had been with him for hours. you had been fucking on and off since early that night - you had started in the living room and ended up in his bedroom like any time you came over. 

“when are you going to stop calling me a ‘bitch’?”

he pressed closer, “i don’t call you a ‘bitch’, anymore.”

you didn’t answer - maybe he didn’t call you a bitch anymore, but he had said plenty of shitty things about you freshman year. and a few good fucks didn’t exactly change your feelings about him. even if he was an especially good lay. 

you tried pushing him back again, “aren’t you dating someone?” you asked, voice sharp, meant to put some distance between you.

he didn’t budge - he only leaned up to look down at you - to trace his fingers gently along your cheek, and shake his head, “no, not since,” he stared at you and bit his lip, “not since it kept happening with you.”

even in the low light of his room, you could see the flush blooming across his cheeks. you wondered how long he had been toying with that thought - how long he had been thinking about telling you about that thought. 

your fingertips were still tracing against his skin - you knew you could shoot him down - tell him to ‘fuck off.’ you could really be mean to him if you wanted. but you were quiet.

which only served to make him brave, “stay the night?” he whispered, voice barely audible, “stay with me,” he was watching you, his pretty eyes taking you in, waiting for something.

you sighed, “cheol”— you started.

he immediately started to pull away - it was like you had slapped him. 

you were annoyed that he was actually going to get up - that he wasn’t even going to listen to you. you grabbed his arm roughly, “idiot,” you said sternly, “i was going to say ‘yes’.”

“oh,” he whispered. 

a/n: i love writing cheol - fr you have no idea how usually when i write a long fic it's cheol-centric - him and his boba eyes and his amazing eyelashes - he is def the definition of sexy 30s

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo ask the newest bingo is [here] but there are still open squares from the previous two [here] and nsfw only bingo is [here]

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite ☁︎ @gigglensnort ☁︎

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[nicholasluvbot]

LOVE LOOKS PRETTY ON YOUㅤ𓈒ㅤ奕翔 ── 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀—𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉.

ㅤ

𝒇 ! 𝗋𝖾����𝖽erㅤㅤ𖥔ㅤㅤ857ㅤㅤ❛ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗌𝗍.𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉ㅤㅤ ─── 𝖼𝖺𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗒 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗌 >< 𝖣𝖮𝖲𝖲𝗂𝖤𝖱

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 ! 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 ^_^ 🌷

You step into the &TEAM dorm, excited to have breakfast with your boyfriend, Nicholas. You’re greeted by K, who glances up from his phone with a lazy stretch.

“Nicholas is still asleep,” he says, setting his phone down. “If you’re gonna wake him up, be careful.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

K raises an eyebrow. “He’s… not a morning person.”

“Okay, and?”

“And he gets grumpy,” he emphasizes. “Snappy. Just don’t take anything he says to heart.”

That makes you pause. Grumpy? Nicholas? Your Nicholas? The one who melts if you so much as hold his hand? You can’t imagine him snapping at you.

Brushing off K’s words, you head to Nicholas’ room and quietly push the door open.

Your boyfriend is curled up under his blanket, long limbs tangled in the sheets. His hair falls messily over his forehead, lips parted slightly, breathing slow and even. His usual sharp, confident look is nowhere to be seen—he looks soft, completely unguarded.

Your heart melts. He does look really comfortable. Maybe you should let him sleep a little longer—

But then your stomach growls, reminding you why you’re here in the first place. Breakfast.

You climb onto the bed, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. “Nicholas,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

A soft groan leaves his lips as he stirs, brows scrunching.

You poke his cheek. “Come on, I’m hungry. Wake up so we can eat together.”

Another groan, this time more annoyed. He pulls the blanket higher, burying his face in his pillow. “Go ‘way.”

You stifle a laugh, K’s words echoing in your mind. “That’s not how you talk to your beloved girlfriend,” you tease, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“I’ll apologize later,” he mumbles into the pillow. “Come back in like… two hours.”

Two hours? Yeah, that’s not happening.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Then another. And another. “Nicholas,” you sing softly, trailing your fingers over his arm. “Wake up, please?”

“Mm.” He shifts slightly but still refuses to open his eyes, his brows furrowing like he’s trying hard to stay annoyed. “You’re being annoying.”

You giggle. “Oh, I’m being annoying?” You intertwine your fingers with his and bring his hand to your lips, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. “I thought you loved me.”

Nicholas sighs heavily. “I do. But I also love sleeping.”

You laugh, continuing your gentle assault of kisses. “You love me more, right?”

He grumbles something incoherent, but when you pull away from his hand, he lazily reaches out and pulls you against him.

“…Yeah,” he admits, voice still thick with sleep.

Grinning, you take the chance to pepper more kisses across his face and neck. “You’re so cute, you know that?” you whisper, playing with his hair. “Even when you’re grumpy.”

Nicholas sighs again, but this time it’s softer. Less annoyed. His lips twitch, a small smile peeking through. “Stop,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words.

You hum. “Hm, I don’t think I will.” You tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “How can I stop when my boyfriend is this adorable in the morning?”

His ears turn pink, and finally, finally, his eyes flutter open—sleepy, unfocused at first, and then they settle on you. A laugh escapes his lips.

You smile, squishing his cheeks. “There you are,” you coo. “My sweet, sleepy boy.”

“You’re impossible,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep, but there’s no irritation left—only warmth. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, holding you against him.

“Five more minutes,” he mutters, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You gasp. “Hey! You said that last time, and it turned into thirty minutes!”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin, and his arms wrap tighter around you. “But you’re so comfy,” he almost whines.

Your heart melts. You press one last kiss to the top of his head before giving in.

You let him have his five minutes.

Or, well… twenty.

When you both finally walk out, Nicholas looks significantly less grumpy. His hair is a mess, but the scowl his members are usually greeted with every morning is replaced with something unusual. Something too happy.

K crosses his arms. “What did you do to him?”

You blink innocently. “What do you mean?”

EJ leans forward, pointing an accusing banana at Nicholas’ chest. “Yesterday, you chucked your phone at my head when I tried waking you up.”

You laugh it off. “Come on, he’s not that bad.”

Nicholas shrugs, completely unbothered. He takes a seat beside you, grabbing some toast. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

K glares. “No, because I tried to wake him up the other day, and he threatened to—”

Nicholas takes a bite of his toast and smirks. “Guess I’m only grumpy when you wake me up.”

The two boys scoff in disbelief, rolling their eyes as Nicholas presses a kiss to your temple. They exchange looks, biting back their smiles.

The same thought running through their minds—

Love looks pretty on Nicholas.

‎ ‎     • 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 🗯 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 ───── 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ˆᗜˆ

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