#in such a way that you look like you were never even in the wrong. Is it

[bunnis-monsters]

The Dragon Prince, in need of a mate

Dragon Prince x Fem!Reader

summary: After a desperate search for his mate, the dragon prince leaves the celestial realm to drink away his sorrows, only to find the person he was looking for in a commoner. You.

warning: breeding, mating, lots of cum, scenting, he fucks you in his dragon form

WK: 10k words

The sounds of heavy footsteps echoed down the palace halls, a growl leaving the throat of the celestial dragon prince.

It was tiring, looking for a bride every day. Not a single woman had been the right one for him… how would he ever be king without a mate?

It made him both angry and strangely… lonely at times. Everywhere he turned there seemed to be a happy couple. Noblemen and women lounged together, being fed grapes or massaged. Even when his eyes glanced towards the common folk, he would spot lovers holding hands or sharing a secretive kiss while serving the palace.

It was enough to drive a dragon to drink.

So while everyone celebrated in the palace after another boring day, the prince transformed into a more suitable appearance, taking on the form of a beautiful nobleman.

He assumed it would be enough to stay under the radar, unaware that his beauty and elegance would draw the attention of every maiden at the bar.

Leaving the celestial realm to dine among humans wasn’t exactly forbidden, but it was looked down upon for higher beings such as himself to dine amongst the common folk, hence the disguise.

Though, with his antler-like horns and claws, there was no doubt he was a being from the celestial realm.

As he walked through a quaint town, people stopped to stare, often with mouths agape.

He didn’t notice, eyes transfixed on the ground. All he could think of at the moment was finding something to drink his sorrows away.

In the distance, he saw the glow of warm lighting coming from a small tavern.

‘Perfect. Seems like a place the common folk gather. I should fit in well enough.’

Though he thought this, the second he walked in the bustling tavern grew quiet, all eyes on him. This wasn’t picked up by the prince, and he continued towards an empty table.

After getting comfortable, his mind began to wander. Life at the palace had been… stressful as of late.

He was used to the rumors, even used to people fearing and avoiding him. But what was unusual was his own insecurity in his heart.

Why hadn’t he found a mate yet? Part of him wandered if there was something inherently wrong with him. Although he hadn’t made much time to truly search out his soulmate, it shouldn’t have been so hard.

He was a prince… yet when he looked at the scars on his body that wouldn’t heal, he felt like a failure.

Weak.

As he sulked, he didn’t even notice that a glass of wine had been placed in front of him. What made his head snap up was the sound of a soft voice.

“Are you alright?”

He looked up, eyes wide as your smell hit his nose. That scent, the way it made his body react…

The woman before him was plump, your eyes giving him a soft and concerned look as you held the empty serving tray to your… ample chest.

It took him a moment to register your words. You glanced at him and then back at the bar, a nervous smile on you face.

You had never interacted with such a handsome man that was clearly of a higher class than yourself. Was it disrespectful to speak out of turn?

Your heart was kind and gentle, so you couldn’t help but speak up when he looked so down.

Once your words fully registered in his mind, he cleared his throat. This was all too much. For several months, nearly a year he had been halfheartedly searching for his mate, and here you were, in a random bar in the human realm.

His eyes moved from your face and down your body, taking in your features. Again, you were plump, with heavy looking breasts, a soft belly, and the outline of thick thighs and hips he could see through your dress.

A perfect mate.

The prince finally looked up, studying your face. Chubby cheeks, a soft smile, pretty eyes…

He had never put much thought into what his mate would look like, but now that he had seen you, he knew that this is all he could ever want.

“I’m alright… another glass, please.”

As you walked away with a flushed face, he downed his glass quickly to try and calm his racing heart. Gods, just the scent of you was enough to have him struggling to control himself.

“Here you are…”

You placed another glass in front of him, smiling shyly as he took it. He was handsome, regal and nearly lit up the room with his beauty. Everyone could tell he was not of this world, and you felt beyond honored to be the one who got to serve such a special man.

But in his mind his thoughts were far from graceful. His eyes didn’t leave your figure, continuing to glance at your hips and soft belly. Both features were absolutely perfect for breeding purposes…

“My dear, what is your name?”

You blinked, taking a moment to process his question. In all honesty you had been completely distracted by his beauty that you zoned out. This was so embarrassing, your cheeks heating up as you struggled to answer.

“M-my name? Oh it’s (Name)!” you babbled out, covering your mouth afterwards. Oh no, you probably sounded way too eager!

He just smirked, taking your hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “(Name)? That’s lovely… (Name).”

Your name being said by such a handsome man had your body feeling hot. This man was looking up at you with an air of confidence that had you flustered, your eyes unable to look into his.

Was it disrespectful to not answer? He was most likely a noble…

“Th… thank you, sir. It’s just a common name, I’d say.”

He reached out and cupped your cheek, his large palm warm against your face. “Perhaps, but it’s a name I will never forget.”

Your cheeks flushed at this, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. That alone was enough to have his pants tighten.

The two of you exchanged longing glances throughout the night, and when your shift was ending, he stopped you before you could leave.

The dragon prince stood, his full height dwarfing you completely. “Come. Let us find somewhere quiet.”

Though you had always been warned by the tavern owner to never follow a guest outside, you were transfixed by his confident smile and intelligent eyes.

As he led you outside, his form seemed to almost… shift slightly. Though he still appeared mostly human, his horns grew longer and teeth sharper.

The moon shone down on them, their breaths coming out in white puffs. It was cold enough for you to shiver, but soon you were warmed by his embrace.

“It’s quite chilly at this time of night, is it not? Stay by my side.”

He led you through the night, the only light that of the shining moon. When it was covered by clouds, he still had no issue guiding you around uneven terrain and the occasional tree root.

It was then you realized there was no way he was human. You had your suspicions before, but it wasn’t uncommon for some human mages to take on animal features to help them with their magic endeavors.

This man, however, was no mage or lowly magical creature. You could tell by the way the moonlight enveloped his body, making him glow in the dark of night.

“What are your plans for me?”

Your voice was shaky, but you felt no fear. The trembling came from a sense of excitement and lust.

And he could smell how wet you were.

He didn’t answer immediately, instead lifting you over a puddle of water and setting you down on the other side.

The dragon prince paused after this, cupping your cheek as he took in your curious expression.

“I will take you on as a mate. From the moment I saw you, it was clear you were the one I have been looking for.”

He cleared his throat before he continued.

“I am the current celestial dragon prince. You will love a life of luxury and never be without…”

It was hard for him to speak when he could smell your arousal growing thick in the air, his own scent mixing in. “… will you be mine?”

Your body felt so warm, you wanted so badly to say yes…

But it didn’t feel real. He was bound to you of all people? You were a lowly tavern barmaid, born into a life of poverty. Nothing about you was inherently special and it was hard to comprehend anyone as beautiful as him wanting to spend his eternal life with you.

“You… are joking, right? Did you drink too much?”

The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. You could feel the sexual tension in the air, yet your mind wouldn’t listen to your body’s natural instincts.

“I do not joke about things as serious as this, my love. I am your mate, we are tied together by fate.”

He lifted your hand, kissing the back of it.

“How can I prove to you that I am serious?”

Before you could answer his form began to shift again, his hands becoming claws. It was getting even harder to hold back, and you were soon lifted into his arms.

“I can’t… hold back anymore… since I realized you were my mate, I’ve been dying to taste you.”

The world became blurry, your body growing hot and your head woozy as everything faded and shifted. Next thing you knew, the two of you were in an intricately decorated room.

You were set onto the softest bed you had ever felt, given no time to take in your surroundings.

He was already opening your thighs, sniffing at your clothed cunt. A groan left his lips, his long black hair tickling your sensitive thighs as he dipped his head between them.

“Gods, you smell delicious. Please… I must taste you.”

You swallowed when his nose rubbed against your inner thigh. The way he was looking up at you had your heart thumb ping rapidly in your chest.

“A-alright…”

Within seconds of your consent his claws ripped through your underwear and his face was buried between your thighs.

His tongue swirled around your clit, and all you could do was moan and hold onto his horns for support.

He grabbed hold of your hips, squeezing the soft fat and pulling you closer. Your pussy had already been drooling with need, and now you felt your arousal dripping down your thighs, his chin covered in your slick.

It was erotic, the sound of his grunts and groans filling the air with each lap of his tongue. You tasted divine, and he was losing himself in you.

Nothing else besides you mattered in this moment. All he could think of was how good it felt to have your thighs squeezing around his head. The moans you let out had his cock twitching incessantly, and he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer.

“Gods…”

He pulled back, looking at the wet mess your fat pussy had become. Your eyes were glazed over, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath.

How many times have you orgasmed so far? You felt almost selfish, already wanting more from him after he just pleasured you.

“My sweet little mate, how do you feel now? My precious, you’re glowing.”

He almost purred when he leaned forward, breathing softly against your neck. You let out a content sigh, reaching up to play with his long black hair.

“Mmm… I’m feeling pretty tired, I’d say… I’ve been working since noon.”

He stiffened a bit at that, resting his chin on your head. The prince did not enjoy thinking about you working so hard. Even though he had only known you for a few hours, you were his mate.

“Well, my dove, do not worry your pretty little head anymore. You will work another day in your life. From now on, you will be pampered and taken care of… I guarantee it.”

Despite how his cock ached to be inside of you, he decided to wait until you were rested to properly mate with you. It would take more energy and leave you exhausted…

You fell asleep in his arms, feeling so warm and safe. How long had it been since you had been held? That last time you could remember was your childhood, when you were just a tiny thing.

He made you feel small, protected, and… so, so warm.

In the morning you awoke, stretching with a yawn as you sleepily stood to get ready for your job. It was strange, when you reached for your apron on your nightstand, you couldn’t find it.

That’s when you remembered the previous night.

Your face warmed immediately, and you barely held back an embarrassed squeal when you noticed the man groan tiredly, his face buried in your chest.

“Go back to sleep, love…”

It was too early in the morning for you to protest, and you haven't slept in since you were a child. It felt nice, getting to fall back asleep in his arms, his hair tickling your cheek.

You listened to his breathing, smiling sleepily. His sharp claws slowly ran through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp to lull you back into slumber.

The next time you woke up it was nearly noon. This was beyond embarrassing, even as a child you had only slept in this much when you were deathly ill. The prince still attempted to get you to stay in bed longer, but when you protested he huffed.

“Alright, alright… stubborn little thing, aren’t you?”

He snapped his fingers, servant girls appearing at your side immediately.

“Your highness,” they greeted, bowing before your bedmate. The prince waved a hand dismissively, rubbing his temple.

“Take my mate and get her a bath and some fresh clothes. Treat her well, she is your future empress after all.”

The servant girls bowed again, raising their hands. “Yes, at once.”

They led you away, and you could only look back pathetically as he lounged in bed, watching you go with a smirk. Your plump rear was certainly a nice sight, and your hips swayed deliciously while you were guided away.

He couldn’t wait to feel how warm your cunt was when he sank into you that night.

As you were led down the halls and into the bathhouse, you saw female royals and nobles alike being pampered by the servants. They were fed grapes, massaged, and even dressed.

You weren’t even sure if they had ever lifted a hand to take care of themselves your entire life. It left you feeling sour. Every day had been a struggle to even put food on the table, much less properly take care of yourself, and here these women were completely pampered to the point their skin glowed.

In all honesty you had never seen yourself as anything special, but before you at least thought you could marry someone with a bit of wealth and settle down peacefully.

After seeing the beauties of the castle, you were left feeling… insecure. How could you ever compete with these gorgeous women?

Without much warning you were stripped down to your birthday suit. The servants weren’t rough, but they weren’t exactly gentle either as they helped you into the bath and scrubbed at your skin.

“Filthy, and you slept in the same bed as the prince. Have you no shame, human?”

You flinched as their nails dug lightly into your scalp. It was painful, but you dared not to make a sound.

“And those rags you wore… just disrespectful, I’ll say.”

Unfortunately, you agreed wholeheartedly, and wondered why such an elegant and noble person such as him dared to even touch you. After all, you had the entire day’s sweat and dirt decorating your skin and clothes.

Unbeknownst to you, the fact that you had been sweaty and strongly scented played a big part in his list for you. A mate was meant to smell like themselves, and to him you smelled absolutely divine.

You looked away in shame as you were rinsed off. Although you felt rather uncomfortable, the floral scent of the soaps and the quality didn’t go unnoticed by you. Never before had you had access to such luxurious toiletries. It was rare for you to have scented soap, but this moisturized your skin and made you feel like a brand new person.

“Worry not, we are well aware of the prince’s mating bond with you. Be you royalty or common folk, we will ensure you will look the part of a princess.”

With that, you were quickly dried off and moved along towards a dressing room.

As you waited in a small room, being told to water yourself, you could hear voices speaking softly nearby.

“Truly, one could even feel sorry for a common girl marrying that insane prince.”

“Oh, dear heavens, do not let any of the celestial royalty hear such things.”

“But I am not wrong, am I? I worry he will simply dispose of her when he is done. Even the humans know that the celestial beings here can do with them as they please and no one will bat an eye.”

You stayed quiet, simply staying near the warm hearth as you continued to dry off slowly. Of course you had heard rumors of the infamous deities residing within the celestial realm.

None of those rumors were good.

Despite feeling a bit nervous, you shook off their words. Even if you were to be tossed aside, you wanted to spend at least one day feeling beautiful and… loved.

If what this was could even qualify as love.

He had called you his mate, did celestial beings mate for life? You were human, it was something hard for your mortal mind to comprehend.

A mate… like a soulmate perhaps? Did that mean he thought the two of you were destined for one another?

Could that mean that none of this was natural, that you were bound together without much choice?

What if he was desperate for a mate and didn’t truly love you?

These thoughts swirled around your head as you were brought into the dressing room.

Before you, rows upon rows of dresses and different types of clothing you had never seen before hung on racks. A few servant girls were already waiting in front of a mirror, holding measuring tape.

“Stand here while we take your measurements.”

You held out your arms, cheeks hot as your naked body was put on display for various women. Their expressions were neutral, and they simply figured out what size you were before running off to fetch various clothing items.

This only added on to your stress.

“Your own personal wardrobe will be prepared shortly, but as the seamstresses are working, you will wear pre-prepared dresses.”

You were dressed in something elegant and flowy, a light blue and white in color. It was something you had never worn before, the fabric soft yet thick and warm.

“With a bit of work, you will be ready for the banquet tonight. For now, the prince is requesting your presence at his bedside once more.”

A servant girl led you way, and you heard the others discussing how to prepare your hair and makeup later in the evening.

You were not looking forward to that.

You were led back to the room you woke up in. The smell of incense wafted from under the door, the lavender and vanilla scent making you relax.

“Come in,” the prince called out after the servant girl knocked. After being ushered in, you slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room and opened your eyes.

He was laid out in the bed, taking in your new look with eager eyes. “Mmm… you clean up nicely, though I preferred your scent before.”

The prince gestured for you to join him in bed, and you quickly scurried to his side, shyly climbing in next to him. “What’s the reason for all this timid behavior? My tongue was buried deep inside of you last night, was it not? There’s nothing to be shy about.”

Your cheeks heated up once again, and you avoided his gaze. “S-saying things like that… isn’t it a bit inappropriate for a p… prince? Won’t they-“

He laughed, grabbing your chin and turning you to face him. “And you think a prince would care who hears him speaking to his mate as he pleases? You are mine, how I talk to you is no one’s business.”

The way he spoke made a shiver go down your spine. He was so confident… and you?

You were the daughter of a simple tavern owner, having no prospects other than hopefully marrying a decent man that would take good care of you.

Though you could feel your body yearning to be near him, almost instinctively drawing closer, you thought it was… strange.

Was the only thing connecting you to this beautiful man instinct? Though you ached when he looked your way, you couldn’t help but feel empty.

What other reason than being forced by fate would a man like him choose to be by your side?

You softened when the pads of his fingertips slowly slid down your side. He was gentle with you, though you had the feeling he wasn’t always like this.

“Come closer, I wish to hold you.”

Slowly you climbed to his side, melting into his touch when he cupped your chubby cheek.

The servant girls called him insane before, insinuating he was cruel and beastly.

But could someone with a touch this gentle truly hurt you?

“You look lovely. Perfect, I’d say,” he mumbled, burying his nose into your hair. You held onto his sleeve, feeling his horns lightly rub against you.

“… you call me lovely, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more handsome man than you.”

He chuckled, his chest tumbling pleasantly. “Am I? Darling, you’re going to make me blush.”

You could tell he was lightly teasing you, which led you to letting out an involuntary huff. This made the dragon prince’s laugh increase in volume.

“Oh? My little mate is pouting now? How cute.”

He tilted your chin up, taking in the way your chubby cheeks puffed out lightly, and how your lips pursed.

“Ahh, you’re going to be the end of me, darling. I can hardly control myself when you’re looking at me like that,” he purred, his voice almost a growl.

Before he could continue his teasing, there was another knock at the door. His demeanor shifted from relaxed and amused to irritated in seconds.

“Who dares to interrupt my time with my precious mate?”

You rested your head against his chest as a woman entered. She certainly was no servant girl, you could tell by the silk and thick wool she wore.

“Mother…”

He held you close, wrapping his arms around your body and tucking your head under his chin. It was almost like an animal protecting its young from a vicious predator.

The woman before you had icy blue eyes, dark hair, and pale skin. It was almost like she was looking into your soul, judging you from within.

Though she looked so different from the prince, he called her his mother…

“You are to report to your father within the hour with your… so called mate. He will be the judge on if this is an actual mating bond this time. You should hope it is, to save yourself the embarrassment.”

With one last look that could freeze hell itself, she turned away, a servant girl shutting the door for her.

You looked up to ask the prince about the woman from before, but he looked distant and cold himself. He stared at your soft body, caressing your cheek and keeping you close to his chest.

“… worry not about that hag, my love. She is not my true mother, simply a woman the emperor, my father has married.”

Though he told you not to worry, the way he held you was enough to have you tense.

The prince held you as if letting you go could only invite trouble… and you knew that woman was the reason for his uneasiness.

Walking with him through the halls made you feel like a princess. People bowed as you passed by, but you noticed others retreated out of fear. Though he kept up a cold facade, you could feel his grip tighten on your hand each time a servant or royal scurried away.

Her presence definitely had a profound effect on him.

He stopped before a massive door, so big it could easily crush you if it were to fall forward. Carved into the dark oak were images of what you could only assume was the banquet of the Chinese zodiac.

They danced and feasted all over the door, and in the center was a dragon watching over them all. The eyes of the dragon were encrusted with sparkling red jewels, and it almost felt like they followed your every movement.

The doors opened, relieving you of the dragon’s intense stare… only for you to come face to face with a real one.

“Father,” the prince acknowledged the dragon, bowing low before you blinked rapidly.

“F-father!?”

The dragon before you was easily the size of the tavern you worked at, if bigger. It sat on a (most likely) custom made thrown, glaring down at your with red eyes that matched the one from the door.

“Ah, your mate already sees me as a father. How cute.”

You stiffened as the dragon stood, causing the palace to shake. Everywhere you turned, people either continued on or stood politely nearby, completely… calm!?

So, trying to fit in, you bit the inside of your cheek and looked up, meeting his eye. You reached out your hand as he approached.

“It’s good to meet you, y-your highness. My name is (Name).”

The prince gave you an amused, incredulous look from the corner of his eye, but you could see the way the corner of his mouth twitched in panic.

The floor shook with the emperor’s laughter, his tail lashing behind him and knocking over a potted plant.

“My son, your supposed mate is quite funny. She offers me her hand like a commoner would, not surprising considering her upbringing.”

Though his words sounded rude, there was no malice behind it. He reached out one of his claws, and you shook it.

It took you a moment to register the cool feeling of his claw turning into the warmth of a human hand. He had shifted into a more humanoid form… and a handsome one at that.

Though he was older and taller, you could tell the resemblance to the prince. He was definitely his father, there was no doubting that.

“I assume this form may be less threatening to a human such as yourself. It may not seem like it, but I take no pleasure in frightening those who may become my family.”

His touch was firm, but not rough. The emperor moved away from you just as the prince’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Ah, my apologies, son. She’s yours, isn’t she?”

The prince’s appearance had changed slightly, his dragon features becoming more prominent. Dark scales appeared along his face and arms, his horns growing in size to the point they looked too heavy for his head.

It was clear he was incredibly protective of you, disliking his father being too friendly with his mate. It made you feel quite happy, seeing how worked up he got over a perceived threat.

Your fingertips lights caressed his cheek, and slowly he calmed down. His scales flattened out into smooth skin again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, kissing his cheek. “Don’t fuss, everything will be okay.”

Something about you soothed his soul in a way no one else could. To anyone watching, it was obvious that you were his soulmate.

“It seems you have finally found the one, my son.”

Your hand suddenly grew hot, and you yelped as you held your hand up to see what was causing the sudden pain.

There was now a ring on your ring finger, the color of the stone the same as the prince’s eyes. On his hand was a matching band, encrusted with jewels that matched your eyes.

“I have recognized your mating bond as being valid. The wedding shall take place when the moon is full once more.”

The prince squeezed your hand, his thumb running over your new ring possessively. You could tell by the way he sniffed at you that he was eager to get you back to his bedroom.

Though part of you was thrilled to be tied to someone that made your heart flutter inside your chest… insecurities still lingered in your mind.

Did he truly love you? You’d only known him for 24 hours, there was no way he could… it all had to be because of your mating bond…

Right..?

Almost as if sensing your unease, the emperor chuckled. “My son, it seems you and your mate are eager to consummate this mating bond. Perhaps it’s time to show her your feelings.”

With that, he gave a nod to one of the deities lounging about nearby. “Begin preparations for the wedding… and tell everyone that interrupting the future emperor and empress tonight will bring severe punishments.”

The two of you were dismissed with a wave of the emperor’s hand, and your lover was quick to gather you in his arms and carry you back to his room.

“Father may be intimidating and married to the most evil bitch alive, but at least he can understand that the newly tied need privacy.”

You whimpered when his face nuzzled against your neck, your heart beating faster as he inhaled your scent.

“Gods… I’ll be mating with you before the banquet, I cannot hold back any longer…”

The second the door to his room was closed, his lips smashed into yours. He was desperate for you, his hands roaming your plump hips and holding on tightly.

“Your scent has been driving me insane… I need you, darling…”

You let out a whimper as he lowered you onto the bed, your thighs trembling lightly at the memory of last night. Pleasures unimaginable had been given to you, and you were sure that it would only get better now.

But…

“… are you sure this is what you want?”

His lips paused on your neck, his hands moving from your hips to your face. He held onto your chin, tilting it up to meet his face. “… what do you mean, my love? Of course I want you, we’re mates-“

“Is that the only reason!?”

His eyes widened when you raised your voice, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. The past day you had been doubting his love for you, seeing it as only instinctual…

“(Name)… you don’t understand how much I adore you.”

You melted as he kisses your eyelids, his touch tender and affectionate. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one. Mating bonds are important, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you outside of it. You’re kind, you make me smile and feel like…”

He sighed, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Let me show you something.”

The prince pulled back, and you felt your body ache when his warmth faded from your skin. He slowly disrobed, letting the expensive fabric fall to the ground.

His torso was littered with scars, long and jagged, all seemed to be caused by fighting. The prince didn’t meet your eye as he spoke.

“Most celestial deities heal wounds like these easily, but try as I might, these scars do not seem to heal. It is because… I am weak.”

He hung his head in shame, hair falling to hide his face. “How can I even think of taking care of a mate when I can’t even protect you? I’m-

You reached out and grabbed his hand before he continued. You placed your fingertips over one of his scars, shaking your head.

“Don’t say that…”

It was quiet, your touch soothing on his scarred skin. He shuddered as your traces each wound, every movement of your fingers tender and full of love.

“Having scars doesn’t make you weak, not at all… it shows you’ve survived so much… it’s evidence of how strong you are.”

The prince did not say anything, simply wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. All he could have ever wanted was his mate to accept him as he was, completely.

You truly were meant to be his.

“I need you, (Name), my love… my body burns with desire every time you touch me.”

He had waited long enough. Being so close to you had caused him to slowly enter an almost rut like state. If he couldn’t mate with you soon, he’d go crazy.

“Then I want you to have me… I need to be yours…” you said, leaning into his touch. His chest tumbled at your words, the scales from before coming back. This time it wasn’t out of anger, no, he was very pleased.

“As you wish, my love. I will make you mine entirely, just give me your trust and I will give you my heart.”

This time you initiated the kiss, much to his delight. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in.

A battle for dominance began, your tongues fighting but you gave in quickly. He was strong, and you wanted him to ravish you. You were giving yourself to him.

He was quick to shred through your clothes. The displeasure of such a nice dress going to waste only lasted for a second before you melted into his arms.

“Divine, just gorgeous…” he murmured, groping one of your breasts. “You’re truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…”

He lightly tugged at one of your nipples, the other one sucked on lightly. His tongue swirled around the perky bud, his free hand moving downwards, towards your clothed cunt.

For a minute he rubbed you through your underwear, lightly circling your clit. His ear twitched when you let out a breathy moan, your hips bucking lightly into his hand.

His cock twitched, already erect and desperate to be inside of you. But he was a gentleman, and couldn’t bear the thought of potentially hurting his mate.

So he was gentle, removing your soaked underwear and prodding at your needy hole. “Look at that, someone is excited…”

“Says you…” you managed to get out between moans, feeling his fingers curl up and hit the perfect spot inside of you. “You’re spilling precum all over my thighs…”

He grinned, enjoying your back and forth banter. “Oh? Then perhaps it’s time to get on with it. After all…”

His head pushed against your cunt, eliciting a moan from both of you. “I don’t want to waste a single drop of my seed… it all needs to be inside of my mate…”

And then he penetrated you. At first it hurt, the stretch feeling uncomfortable, like you were being pulled apart. You’d never seen a human man naked, but you assumed he was bigger than average.

If you had to guess, you’d say he was around 8-9 inches long, and girty too. Taking him wasn’t easy, and he hated seeing tears well up in your eyes because of him.

Being inside of you felt heavenly. You were warm and tight, and he could cum just from being fully sheathed in your fat cunt… but he felt terrible for feeling so much pleasure while you were in pain.

“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart…” he murmured, one of his claws caressing your hips. “I’m going to be gentle, this pain won’t last for long…”

He peppered kisses along your neck, waiting patiently for you to calm down and for the pain to ease. The prince was well aware of the size difference between you and him, and that if he wasn’t careful during mating, his form could shift and grow larger, potentially harming you.

He was right, soon the pain began to ebb away, dulling until all you could feel was pleasure washing over your body. His cock twitched inside of you, and you arched your back.

“Ready?”

You nodded, your chest rising and falling as your breathing picked up. He could feel how wet you were, and began to move slowly.

The moan the movements of his lips elicited from you caused him to groan, his eyes flicking to your flustered face.

“M-more… please?”

Though there was part of him that wanted to make you beg and plead for more, he wanted to fuck you too much to pause and wait. They had all of the time in the world to make love, but right now he needed you desperately.

His hips slapped against yours as he picked up the pace, claws gripping so tightly that you could feel them piercing your skin.

But that light pain paled in comparison to the intense pleasure you felt as your velvety walls clenched around him in your first orgasm of the night.

“So good… so fucking good…”

He groaned into your neck, breathing your scent mixed in with the smell of sex in the air. The prince could have gotten drunk off of that alone.

Your head soon grew fuzzy with pleasure, and all you could think of was how good it felt to be absolutely ravished by your mate.

All thoughts of gentleness were thrown out the window as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder so he could push deeper inside. He watched as he cock moved in and out, covered in your slick…

When he came, you felt yourself being stretched, his cock swelling inside of you. So much cum was stuffed into your womb, your tummy full of his seed.

Something about being filled with your mate’s cum felt… right. Like it was the natural thing to do, he needed to stuff you full of his seed like a good mate should…

He stayed inside for a while, rutting against you even as he continued to cum. He didn’t want to leave your warmth…

But despite that, he was nowhere near satisfied… but despite your whines, he pulled out a moment later.

“… gods… don’t fret, my love… we can continue after dinner. Trust me, you’ll need your energy for tonight.”

He gave your clit one last teasing flick before pulling your soaked panties back over your cunt.

“Ah, my love… you’ll need another bath. I’ll fetch the-“

You held onto his hand, shaking your head. “I wanna… take a bath with you…”

In reality you didn’t want to be with those gossiping women again. The things they said about the prince upset you, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold your tongue this time.

Even if some of the rumors might be true, your mate wasn’t some monster. He was kind to you, he yearned for acceptance in a world that deemed him weak for having scars.

“A bath with me, hmm? Can’t get enough of me can you?”

Though he was teasing you, it was clear the fact you wanted to stay near him brought the prince endless joy. “It seems my puppy knows where her home is already.”

This made you pout, and he cooed over you. “Oh, don’t make that face, I’m joking.”

With that he lifted you up, kissing your forehead. “Of course you can bathe with me. I’d rather not have anyone else see you covered in my seed anyways.”

You let him rinse you off, his hands lingering on your messy cunt as his cock fucked your thighs. You were both still feeling needy, wanting to fuck like rabbits, but were holding back.

It wasn’t easy, and you felt your cheeks grow warm over how much a whore you’d become in 24 hours. All you could think of was him sinking his cock inside of you again…

“Mmm…” he purred against your neck, rubbing the washcloth over your tits as his cock stayed nestled between your thighs. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your body…”

He gently squished your soft belly, playing with your warm and malleable fat. “So squishy, I love it so much…”

From one look around the palace you noticed most of the women were quite thin, so it was safe to assume he really had never been in the arms of a woman like you.

You were chubby, with thick thighs and an ample bosom. To just commoners, you were seen as a fertile woman that could handle childbirth without any problems.

And it seemed his dragon side went completely feral at that thought.

The two of you cuddled as you waited for the servant girls to bring your fitted dresses. There was a fluffy robe for each of you waiting on the freshly cleaned bed after your bath.

This was what being rich probably felt like. Being waited on hand and foot, not even having to tell someone to clean your cum and sweat soaked sheets.

With an embarrassed squee, you made a mental note to thank the women that had to clean that up later. It couldn’t have been an easy task.

A knock on the door caused you to look up. The servant girl from before bowed, walking in and offering her hand.

“I can dress you n-“

The prince pulled you back into his lap, growling lowly as his scales popped up all over his body. Even his face looked more reptilian than human.

“Don’t you dare touch her without my permission.”

You blinked in surprise, glancing up at him and raising an eyebrow. He seemed almost feral, and you could feel him rubbing against you, trying to make sure you were covered in his scent.

The servant girl was on the floor, trembling and holding her arms up to defend herself, which caused your mate to ease up. You could tell he felt guilty for lashing out at a defenseless woman, but he was on edge knowing you’d be seeing his stepmother again at dinner.

“… I apologize, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

His grip loosened on you, allowing you to feel all forward and help the woman up. “Get her dressed… then take the day off.”

You glanced back at him as the servant girl dressed yiu with shaking hands. It was clear he felt terrible despite the cold facade he had up. You knew you mate well, already able to tell when he was upset.

“My love…”

He perked up when you were fully dressed, your hair and makeup done to perfection. The prince’s tail slapped against the floor, his cheeks flushed a light pink.

“You’re gorgeous…”

When he realized how lovestruck he looked, the prince cleared his throat. His signature cocky smirk overtook his face once more, and he offered his arm to you. “May I escort you to the banquet, my princess?”

You gave him a fond smile, taking his arm. “It would be an honor, my prince.”

He escorted you to the banquet, barely holding back from grabbing your ass as his hand slipped to your lower back. You just smelled way too fragrant, making his cock twitch in his pants as he imagined being inside of you again.

“Welcome.”

The prince froze in place, his hand pausing on the small of your back as he met eyes with his father’s wife.

“Mother. Thank you for putting this together…” he said, his tail slowly wrapping around your lower half and pulling you close. It seemed his dragon features became more prominent when he wanted to protect you…

“I hope your little… mate knows proper etiquette. She will not embarrass me at this banquet. Having a commoner, a mere human peasant as a mate is already humiliating enough, so make sure you keep her in check.”

Your smile faltered, an uncomfortable silence falling over the two of you.

The prince’s jaw tensed up. “… don’t speak of her as if she is not here. Whether you like it or not, she’s my mate and I love her.”

Her face became even colder, her eyes narrowing. “You should watch who you’re talking to. I’m the empress, y-“

“And? (Name) will soon be the empress herself, so have some damn respect!”

His stepmother drew back, clutching her pearls. “I hope you know your father will hear about this!”

With that, she turned on her heels and left. You glanced at him, holding onto his sleeve. “… why does she treat you like that? You don’t deserve it…”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “It’s because I’m the son of a concubine. She hasn’t been able to birth a son for my father, meaning none of her children will be able to take the throne. It’s pathetic, and I’m not afraid of her anymore.”

He pulled out your chair for you, smiling fondly. “When I was a child, she used to terrorize me… but I have someone I need to protect now. I don’t have time to be afraid of some old hag.”

Before you could sit, he took your seat and pulled you into his lap. “Maybe it’s better if you stay close. She can be pretty vindictive. And…”

You felt his bulge rub lightly against you.

“We should have some fun at our own banquet, shouldn’t we?”

The table was filled with various foods, some you had never seen before, but everything smelled absolutely delicious.

There were deities taking seats all around you, some glancing your way but quickly turning when the prince bared his fangs. Not a single person dared to challenge him, not when his protectiveness was high due to mating with you for the first time.

The emperor and empress entered the banquet hall, and everyone stood besides you and the prince. He kept you seated on his lap, lightly moving your hips along his clothed erection.

The two took their seats, and the emperor waved his hand, causing everyone to sit as well.

“As you all know by now, you've all been gathered here to celebrate my son’s success in finding his mate. Now that he has one, the throne shall be passed down to him after the wedding.”

Whispers broke out among the dinner guests, some upset and others curious. You wanted to hide away, having everyone’s eyes on you made your heart race.

“Silence.”

Not a single peep could be heard when the emperor’s voice rang out in the banquet hall, echoing off the walls.

“I heard my son was disrespectful towards the empress. Was that right, my son?”

The empress stared down at the happy couple, her lip twitching into a sinister smile. The prince gave his father a nod.

“She bad mouthed my mate. If you were in my shoes, you would have done the same thing.”

Before the empress could retort, the emperor held up his hand. “I see. I hope my family can get along in the future. After all, my son will soon be the emperor.”

His eyes shifted towards the empress. “Some of you would do well to remember that soon, he will be the one in charge.”

The empress quietly seethed after that, and the banquet continued without a hitch. As you ate, he rubbed at your belly, his fingers occasionally brushing against your crotch.

He was an absolute horndog, needing you like a man dying of thirst needs water.

“We’ll be taking our leave now,” your mate announced once you both had your fill. He did nothing to hide his erection, lifting you into his arms.

“I hope you keep your promise to make sure no one bothers us, father.”

The emperor simply chuckled, waving the two of you away. “Go on, you won’t be disturbed.”

With every step he took towards your shared bedchambers, the prince became more beastly. It seemed it was hard to keep his human form when he was this needy for you.

The second you were both behind closed doors, his cock was already out of his pants and rubbing against your back, his hands trembling with excitement as he lifted your dress to stare at your drooling cunt.

“You need me, don’t you princess?”

His fingers dragged along your wetness, gathering up your slick before bringing it to his mouth. “I could taste you for hours…”

You felt his fingers pump in and out of you, and this time he wasn’t as gentle. He bit down on your thigh, leaving a few hickeys and bite marks along your soft flesh.

Anyone that saw you would know you were his, the prince would make sure of that.

Your brain was already starting to turn to mush, you weren’t sure if you’d be completely luciduribg this. It just felt so good, he was an expert at this.

His long, textured tongue lapped at your folds. It was almost like a cat’s tongue, just less rough, and it was replacing his fingers. That’s how long it was.

He tongue fucked you, his hands squeezing your thighs as he drew out your moans and cries, lightly smacking your ass when you squirmed. It was a gentle warning to stay still…

The prince wanted to enjoy his meal.

You came around his tongue, clenching as your hips bucked wildly upwards, and only then did he draw back and give you a lust filled look.

That’s when he slowly pushed his cock into you, the familiar feeling of you warmth making him melt against you. Nothing else had ever made him feel so at home, he only got this feeling when he was buried inside of your cunt. This was where he was supposed to plant his seed, and he had to breed you.

He rammed into you, moving his lips to your neck to suck and bite at you as he pounded your poor pussy.

But after a moment, he pulled out, his hand on your belly as he panted softly. The way you whimpered and begged for him to continue was endearing, but he had other things in mind.

“You’re mine… and I just can’t hold back anymore…”

His form frew, his cock nearly doubling inside as he became the closest to a dragon yet. Dark scales covered his body, massive arms at eaither of your sides keeping you caged underneath him. His scaly underbelly brushed against you,

Though his cock was intimidatingly big and would stretch you out to your limit, he knew he could fit it inside of you.

It throbbed, laying against your belly as he leaned forward to nudge his dragon head against your face in an affectionate and possessive display.

Though for a moment you felt fear seeing such a beast hovering over you, his eyes met yours and you relaxed. This was still the prince… and you loved him even in this form. Not despite it, no, you adored his smooth black scales that felt like cool river rocks and the warmth of his belly.

“I need you…” he murmured, his chest rumbling with a purr. “If… you don’t want this, I’ll-“

You lifted your hips, letting the top lip of his cock rub against your folds. He let out a growl, his hips snapping forward, and you felt him pushing in.

Even though the stretch felt like your virginity was being taken for a second time, you kissed his snout. “O want this…”

With your confirmation, he sunk fully in, giving you a moment to adjust before he began to move.

Moans and whimpers echoed through the room as your lover fucked you stupid. With each slap of his hips against yours, you saw stars.

Your tummy bulged with his cock, his claw running over the imprint. “You’re taking me so well, such a good little mate…”

His balls tightened, and he roared as he came inside of you for the first time that night. Hot, thick ropes of sticky cum shot inside of you, filling your womb and making your belly feel hot.

But he wasn’t done with you, not even close.

The prince turned you on your back, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he mounted you, pounding your pussy at an animalistic pace. Your cunt clenched around him so perfectly, the fat flesh on your ass rippling with each powerful thrust.

A clawed hand reached between your legs, carefully rubbing at your clit. He loved the way you came around his cock, how you cried out for more even as you were stuffed to the brink with his cum.

“I know, my sweet, you want it all don’t you? Selfish little thing, but I love you all the same.”

He pushed your face into the pillow, growling and purring into your ear as he listened to your muffled moans. You were drooling, your eyes glazed over with pleasured tears, and his chest swelled with pride to know he was the one making you feel this way.

No one else could see you in this state. Your body bare and covered in your own cum, his beginning to drip out of your cunt. You were an utter mess, only able to moan and babble out pleas for more, and each time you did he fulfilled your requests.

After all, he was a good mate. You wanted him to touch you, to increase his speed, or change the angle of his hips so his cock hit the perfect spot? He’d do so in a heartbeat, all to please you.

The prince slumped over you, slowly reverting back to his humanoid form as he came inside of you again. You were worn out, and he could see your pussy clenching around nothing when he pulled out.

“Aww, still needy…”

He gathered up some of his cum, cooing softly as he shoved it back into you with his fingers, pumping them in and out. “Look at you, wasting all of this. Naughty girl, do I have to start all over again?”

The night was long, and every time you grew too exhausted to carry on, he used a bit of his power to rejuvenate you. Heated kisses were left along your bruised skin, a satisfied purr leaving his throat as he spotted some of the hickeys and bites he had given you earlier.

“You look so pretty, decorated with my marks. No one else would dare to even lay a finger on you, not when you’re completely covered in my scent and bites.”

He nuzzled against your neck as you sat on his lap, cockwarming him. The prince was kind enough to give you a break, though he couldn’t bear to pull out of you, even for a second.

The prince smiled fondly, rubbing his hand over your swollen belly. “You know… I’d be happy if you were able to carry my young, but I know there’s a chance it won’t happen due to our difference in anatomy.”

He nibbled softly on your neck and shoulder. “But I don’t care, you’re my mate regardless. Having children would be nice but it’s not a necessity.”

You sighed in relief. In all honesty, part of you had been afraid he would abandon you for another celestial deity if you could not produce an heir. You were only human after all…

His teeth grazed your jaw, but you felt no fear. “Mmm… I’ve only known you a day but it feels like an eternity. Perhaps that is what being soul bonded to someone feels like…”

“I feel that way too… it’s like we’ve always been together, or at least… we were meant to be.”

The two of you shared a kiss, one of his hands on your ample breast, squeezing the soft flesh as his tongue ran across yours.

Once you both were worn out and the sun had come up, he finally curled up in bed with you to rest properly. Binge again you felt almost like a newborn baby being held and protected, safe and warm. You were getting used to this kind of thing… getting used to being loved.

When you awoke with a whine, you were being carried away by the prince. He glanced down, giving you a quick kiss. “Quiet now, love. We’re going to escape for a bit. Let’s call it our early honeymoon.”

You let out a laugh, quickly shushed by your mate. “But we haven’t even married yet, love.”

The prince grinned. “Yes, but once we’re married I’ll have too many responsibilities to take care of because I’ll be emperor. Let’s enjoy our freedom until then.”

He leapt across a sea of stars, and you reached down to touch it. Bits of stardust clung to your fingertips, glowing brightly.

“There’s a hot spring, we’ll relax there for a few days… or until they notice we’re missing.”

The celestial hot springs were beautiful, and once you stepped into the water, you felt your body relax and melt. “Oh wow…”

The prince pulled you in, holding you in his lap. “B-but this isn’t the mixed bath, you shouldn’t-“

You were quieted when his cock nudged against you. The two of you were both still very sensitive from your mating bond, there was no way you could say no to having him inside of you.

“Mmm…”

He admired your curves, one of his hands giving your soft belly a squish as you lowered yourself onto his cock. “Pretty girl knows where the best seat in the house is, doesn’t she?”

You pouted, but he was right. The last few days had been utter bliss, you were already addicted to your mate’s scent and cum.

Just a whiff of his cologne or musk was enough to have you clench around him, and he was close to bursting when he smelled your arousal.

“Good girl, my sweet little mate…”

He bounced you on his cock lazily, sinking into the water a bit as he licked at your neck.

“I love you, (Name).”

You leaned against his chest, letting him guide your hips up and down. He was good at this, knowing when to speed up or change his rhythm to really get you going.

“And I love you, my prince. More than anything… you’ve made my life worth living.”

He tucked your head under his chin, embracing you. It wasn’t long before the two of you were done in the hot springs and ready to continue your love making in the bedroom.

The two of you spent several days at the hot spring, enjoying the water, food, and making love as often as possible. By the time someone came to pick you up, you were sure the hot spring was at least 80% cum.

‘Sorry, future customer,’ you thought to yourself, leaving against the prince as he guided you to the carriage.

It had all been like a dream. He had whisked you away into a fairy tale world, making you feel like a real life princess.

For the rest of your life, he would worship and adore you. With every kiss and touch, that fact was made clear.

To be loved by the prince was an honor. You were the thing he treasured the most, and you would continue to love him just as he was.

“Do you think dreams come true?” your asked, leaning against his shoulder as the carriage continued on towards the palace.

“Mhm, I do,” the prince murmured, pulling you closer. “Because I’ve been dreaming of this my entire life… and I finally have you.”

You smiled and drifted off in his arms, feeling like the luckiest girl ever.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[beloveds-embrace]

(even more designationless!reader…)

The idea had clung to you like a ghost, silent and persistent. A whisper of possibility, a gnawing what if that refused to let go, lurking in the quiet spaces between your thoughts.

It started as an offhanded remark- just a passing suggestion from an Omega medic flipping through your file, his frown deepening at the blank space where a designation should be. He’d leaned in closer, like he was sharing a deep secret even though you’d heard of it before.

“You know, there’s a new procedure. A way to synthesize a scent, balance your hormones. Might help you fit in better.”

At the time, you’d laughed it off, a dry, hollow sound. You were fine. You had learned to live without instincts, without scent cues. You had a pack now- wasn’t that such a wonderful thought? You, of all people, with a pack- and they never made you feel lesser for it.

But still…

Still, you would never stop noticing the way strangers hesitated when they got too close, noses twitching as they tried to find something that wasn’t there. The way some looked at you like you were an anomaly, a hollow space where something vital should be.

The pack never made you feel wrong. But the rest of the world did before and after them.

So, you started actually looking into it. Quietly; and what you found was terrifying.

The procedure wasn’t just some simple injection or pill, wasn’t like the time you got yourself a pheromone perfume. It was invasive- gene therapy, hormone treatments, scent gland augmentation. Synthetic pheromones would be forced into your system, rewriting the very foundation of your body’s chemistry. The risks of rejection and infections were high. The list of potential side effects was even higher- neurological damage, sensory overload, organ stress. Death.

It wasn’t just expensive. It wasn’t just painful. It was dangerous.

And yet, the thought had taken a root far too deep to be simply pulled out.

What would it be like to walk into a room and be known? To have a scent that soothed your pack, something that would mark them the way they marked you with touches and borrowed clothes and lingering words? The pheromone perfume had been temporary, but this- it could be permanent. A cure.

It took weeks before you built up the courage to bring it up to your pack; weeks of staring at catalogues and brochures, google searches all on the costs, the risks, the very, very few who had tried it.

Sitting in the nest one evening, curled between them, you hesitated before you gathered enough courage and spoke. “I found a way to get a scent.”

The reaction was immediate, though you weren’t surprised. They’ve likely heard of the procedure before.

Johnny turned his head sharply from where he had been sprawled beside you, brow furrowing. Kyle, who had been playing absently with your fingers, froze. John, seated at the edge of the nest with a book in his lap, went still. And Simon- Simon growled. A low, rumbling thing that vibrated through your ribs, curling up inside your chest like a warning.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your throat went dry. “You know about that procedure, right?” your words were careful, hesitant. “It’s… expensive. But it can create a scent for me. A real one.”

Silence. Then-

“No.”

John’s voice was sharp, absolute. Not angry, not yet. But firm in a way that brooked no argument. A command all on its own.

Your stomach twisted, and a deep frown etched itself onto your face. “I just thought-”

“No,” Simon repeated, harsher this time, sitting up straight. His eyes burned into yours, dark and furious. “Who the fuck put that idea in your head?”

You faltered, the hesitant hope in your chest slowly fanning out. “It’s not- I wasn’t—”

“You dinnae need fixing, hen.”

“It’s not about fixing,” you argued, pulse quickening. Why weren’t they giving you a chance to explain? “It’s about- I don’t know, being normal? Being able to-”

“You are normal,�� Kyle interrupted, his voice thick, pain threaded around each word. “Christ, love, what made you think you weren’t?”

Frustration bubbled up, clogging your thoughts. “You don’t get it,” you snapped, and the words poured out, raw and aching. “None of you do. You’ve never had to live without it. Never had to wonder if you belonged because you don’t have the one thing that ties you to everyone else!”

John’s exhale was sharp, scrubbing a hand over his face and beard. He looked at you- really looked at you, and his face tensed even further. “And you think putting yourself through hell to force a scent into your system is the answer?”

You hesitated, exposed under their scrutiny, laid bare even in spite of the layers you were wearing.

“You’d risk your life for this?”

“People go through hormone therapy all the time-”

“Not like this,” Kyle shook his head, immediately cutting that line of thought off. “This isn’t just hormone theraph. This is gene-altering shit. You read the side effects, love? The risks?”

You had. And now, under their gazes, the weight of it pressed heavy on your chest.

Ghost shifted closer, holding your arm, face tight. “You’re not doing this.”

“You can’t just tell me what I can and can’t do with my own body!”

Price’s jaw tightened, eyes dark with something unreadable, something heavy. When he finally spoke, it was rough, edged with the kind of steel that only came from deep, unwavering conviction.

“You’re right.”

For a second, your breath caught, because you hadn’t expected him to say that. Did you-?

“We can’t tell you what to do with your body,” he continued, low but firm. “But we can stop you from hurting yourself. I will not allow you to go through that damn procedure.”

The words hit like a fist to the gut.

Simon exhaled sharply, tilting his head like he couldn’t believe you had even considered it. “You’d put yourself through that- all that danger, all that risk- just to what? Smell a little different?”

You swallowed, and then, after a heavy moment, nodded.

Kyle leaned in, wrapping himself around you, protective. “You,” he hissed. “You think some synthetic, lab-made scent could ever be worth you getting hurt?”

Your throat felt tight, and you looked away, only for Johnny to let out a rough, disbelieving laugh. “Jesus, lass. You think we’d ever want some artificial shite over you?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came. “I just thought… maybe it would make things easier.” You admitted eventually, voice small and weak, avoiding their eyes. You’d thought… it might even make your family care.

Gaz inhaled sharply, like your words had hurt. “Easier for who?”

The question left you hollow, because you knew the answer.

Not for them.

Never for them.

John sighed, rubbing his temples before reaching out, cupping your cheek with one calloused hand and forcing you to look at him. “Love,” he murmured, and his voice had softened now, rough edges worn down to something gentler, something aching. “We don’t need you to smell like us to know you’re ours. We don’t need a scent to claim you, or to carry your scent.” His thumb brushed against your cheek, touch warm. “You’re already part of this pack.”

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, curling around your ribs, something painful and good all at once.

For so long, you had felt other. Like something was missing. But here, surrounded by them, their warmth pressing into you, their hands grounding you-

You could almost convince yourself you were whole.

Simon let out a slow breath and reached for you, pulling you into his lap with a kind of desperate, hungry care, his arms curling around you like he could somehow shield you from your own thoughts. Johnny pressed against your side, warm and solid, his grip firm where he held onto your wrist. Kyle leaned in, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, and Price wrapped an arm around all of you, anchoring you to them.

And you let yourself believe them.

Omegaverse masterlist

[ssahotchnerr]

Have you thought of doing a fic where Aaron and Reader are play fighting and Aaron ends up on top of reader? (Doesn’t have to be smut, but if you wanted…)

-🗣️

pinned down

i have not but now i'm OBSESSED cw; fem!reader, established relationship, small hurt to comfort, playful banter, fluff and some suggestion 💓

"Hi honey."

"Hi," you responded, keeping your face hidden in your drawer as Aaron entered the bedroom. He had stayed at the office late, kept by heaps of paperwork and reports. "Did you manage to get everything done?"

One thing about being in a relationship with a profiler, rarely anything got past him, noticing the smallest of shifts in your behavior. A slight change in the way you blinked, brief hesitation in your voice, even the way you held yourself could be enough for him to sense something was off.

Aaron didn't answer, but rather he came to your side, his hand finding your waist. It rest comfortably, his thumb grazing the exposed skin above your waistline. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you answered flatly, rearranging your socks as a way to keep yourself occupied.

"You sure?" His tone wavered in question, unconvinced.

"Mhm." With a shrug, you shut the drawer.

It just hadn't been your day, to simply put it. It had started off bumpy, waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You got Jack to school a little late, spent much more time at a store doing a return than you would have liked, and then got drenched by an unexpected downpour on your way to your car. To top it off, you came back to find a parking ticket waiting for you, all thanks to the meter running out.

Now, you turned and made your way back to the bed, where the laundry basket was waiting. You grabbed Aaron's clean pajamas, setting those out for his convenience.

However, just as your fingers brushed the fabric of the next shirt, Aaron swiftly intervened. He placed the basket on the floor, far out of reach.

You weren't mad at him; it was more that you were looking for any excuse to let your frustration spill onto something else. You met his eyes, a really? plastered across your face. "Aaron."

His choice of rebuttal - grabbing ahold of your waist and throwing you onto the bed, landing with you in a soft thud.

"Aaron!" His name left you in a whine, soon blending into your laughter.

You attempted to wiggle out of his grasp, but his position on top allowed him the leverage to pin you down tightly. That, and the simple fact that he was much stronger than you.

A mischievous glint filled in his eyes, his lips curved in an amused, sly smile. "Yes?"

"Lemme go!" You squeaked, fighting against his hold which he solidly maintained. All your worries seemed to vanish in an instant; the lingering, heavy weight in the middle of your chest lessening as each laugh left you.

"I don't know about that."

"I can't breathe." Tears rolled out from the corner of your eyes due to laughing so profusely. While partially true, you hoped he'd take the bait.

He let go, and you switched tactics. With all your weight, you shifted yourself, slipping out from under him and overpowering him next. You nudged into his side, causing him to fall.

That left you smirking above, straddling him as you held tightly onto his forearms.

"That's cute, sweetheart." He gazed up at you affectionately.

"Is it?" You taunted as your chest rose up and down, a breathless giggle leaving you.

"Y'know," his head tilted, feigning a light, offended pout. "You never gave me a kiss when I got home."

It was too easy to fall for his trap, the temptation to kiss him overtaking the desire to hold onto any remaining grudges you still held against this morning and your local Virginia-state parking attendant. All of which would've been easier to bear if he had been with you. You suddenly found yourself missing him, despite the fact he was right here.

The second you leaned in to grant his request, he bumped his hips up, causing you to lose your balance and topple off him - over to the side and onto the comforter.

Only a few seconds later, you were caged in again; Aaron was top of you, pinning your hands above your head. You relaxed, your posture succumbing to the mattress below; an open invitation for him to have his way with you.

"Do you want to tell me what's bothering you?" His face was a few centimeters away from yours, your skin warming from the heat of his breath. He adjusted his grasp, using one hand to hold both your wrists.

"No," you answered, gazing up at him with a spark of playful defiance.

You also took a moment to enjoy the view above you. Aaron's dark eyes, the cowlicks hanging over his forehead, his broad chest (in which the buttons of his shirt were clinging to for dear life), his cologne filling your nose. You were surrounded by him entirely.

"Can you be persuaded?" His eyebrows rose teasingly, leaning in to press a few kisses along your jaw. He let his lips linger, before trailing to your neck and doing the same thing there. He craned back to meet your gaze, inquisitively.

"Maybe. Depends on how convincing you can be." You quipped back, with an almost impish smile that hinted at your mood. It was clear that whatever you'd been upset about, long gone now. You'd still share the reasoning, but in due time.

A delightful laugh escaped him, filled with warmth and fondness. "Is that a challenge, sweetheart?"

[plethorawrites]

TW: Mentions of dub con/non consensual intimacy or coercion. (From his past lovers, not reader) (A/N this is my favorite thing I've ever writtenreader

TW: NSFW content.

2.5k word count

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Okay, this could be a bit of a hot take, but I am a firm believer in soft Jason Todd during sex.

Especially at the beginning of a relationship. He died young and his only sexual experiences were with Talia, who groomed him, Essence, who he believed betrayed him for the longest time and maybe Artemis, (Idk if that's canon? Can someone confirm or deny?) who was probably pretty rough given her arrogant, abrasive, and violent personality.

So, when he dates you, he's more than just hesitant. He's pretty much terrified. But he's used to hiding his feelings because they make him feel vulnerable and weak, which he hates. When you start tearing down his walls, he starts to panic. He likes spending time with you, thinking about you, kissing you. Especially that last part.

But it never goes very far because he always pulls away when things get more heated. Like, you in his lap, him nearly fully hard before quickly picking you up by your hips and moving you to the other side of the couch before standing up, clearing his throat and leaving.

It takes over two months before he feels comfortable enough to even tell you the reason he doesn't want to be intimate and the only reason he did is because you started to feel like he wasn't attracted to you or you had something wrong.

He rushed to reassure you that wasn't the case and finally told you the —partial— truth. He had scars he didn't want you seeing, he had bad prior experiences, he felt like he was being used almost every time he slept with someone and couldn't stand that feeling because it made him physically ill.

It took several weeks after that to slowly adapt to that realization and discuss how to make that feeling go away. Taking things slow, making it last, keeping it gentle, seemed to be the best way. And it was somehow perfect and tortuous all at once. He let you ride his thigh, at first. That was the first time he'd ever allowed any form of intimacy between you too. Partially because you looked desperate and he felt bad and partially because he genuinely wanted to see what you looked like while doing that.

Not to mention, he was still too afraid to be the one doing anything. So, it was best if he just helped.

His grip was firm, his eyes glued to you. You whispered more praise in those few minutes than he had heard from anyone in months all together, maybe even the year. He felt good. He was helping you. You appreciated it. You appreciated him. He was attractive. You were thanking him for giving this to you. Practically begging for his help.

And it made his heart clench, not to mention his teeth. There were other forms of physical intimacy after that, still only to you, because he didn't want to risk showing his scars or get that nausea in his stomach again during sex. You'd allow him pretty much anything and everything, if it meant he was more comfortable with you and your body. Sliding his hand under your shirt while you slept over (quite literally just falling asleep after eating dinner together) brushing his knuckles against your breasts, hesitant to touch them, but finding comfort in it all at once.

You assured him three different times—before he did it, when his hand was just barely under your shirt, and when his fingers first tugged at your nipples. It's when he's finally a bit more comfortable, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade that you hum and roll over. Your hair finds his hair, stroking it and he presses his lips to your neck, almost on instinct. You let him kiss lower and lower, gently guiding his head towards your breasts, all while repeating more and more praise, reminding him he's under no obligation to do anything, ever, if he doesn't feel comfortable.

But he does. With you, he does.

It leads to him kissing and sucking at your chest until he loses track of time and you're painfully wet. That was plenty, you promised. He doesn't need to do anymore than that. But he does, because he doesn't want to take his hands off your soft skin. So you gently drag his hand down, keeping the other firmly on his shoulder while you stare into his eyes, as his fingers slide through your slick. A sharp inhale makes him hold his breath. The other women he'd been with only ever wanted the most physical part of sex, never to do something like this. You were so soft and warm, assuring him he was doing fine while guiding his hand until you eventually couldn't keep looking at him and had to close your eyes. He liked that. A lot.

The way your hand moved, letting him do what he wanted while you gripped the sheets. He listened so well, trying to make you happy or just keep making those sounds—his name falling from your lips. If you wanted his fingers to move faster, they would. If you said deeper, they were. If you said to curl them, they'd curl. You were so... captivating, he had found. Usually, he was too in his head, so focused on how long until it was over that he never even considered being able to enjoy it.

But he wasn't rushing with you. He didn't want you to stop saying his name. When you finally came down from the high he'd brought you, your first words were a question, asking if he was alright. When he nodded, you started telling him how perfect he was, how good that felt. He liked that almost as much as your moans.

Yet, you felt guilty, never taking care of him. He never asked. In fact he repeatedly denied the offer until you chose to stop asking rather than upset him.

Until one day, when you were on the couch, leaning against him as he read, your hand perched on his thigh. He didn't know if it was the fact that you were wearing such a low cut tank top or how you'd been absent mindedly rubbing circles around his sweatpants while reading over his shoulder, but he was worked up. It took twice as long to finish a page with your motion making his mind go to places it shouldn't.

He was worried, about you rejecting his desires, or something like that. Something mocking or doing something that was uncomfortable. People had done that before, eliciting physical reactions he didn't want to feel. But he wanted to try, to feel you on him the way he'd felt you.

His hands grabbed yours and when you looked up in confusion, he just gently and silently slid your hand a bit further on his leg, towards his erection. He'd absolutely taken care of himself, and often, because it was a quick stress relief that left him tired before bed. But lately, the more he did it, the more his mind wandered to you and that, for some reason, made him finish a lot harder than usual.

Your hand brushed against it and you asked if he was sure before pressing a kiss to the side of his shoulder and sinking down to the carpet below, on your knees in between his legs. Running your hands up and down his thighs in a soothing sort of gesture both calmed him and felt like torture all at once. But it only lasted a little bit, while you promised him he was in control, because that's what he needed to hear.

That he could say no at any time if he was even the slightest bit uncomfortable. When you slid his boxers down, his heart jumped in panic. Of course you noticed the scars on his thighs instantly. But ignored them, because he still hardly ever showed them aside for occasionally wearing short sleeves. You were silent and he was scared but all you'd said at last, was that he was pretty.

"Pretty."

That word had never been used to describe him. Not before his death and certainly not after. Even the feeling of your gentle kiss on his skin and your thumb swiping over the top had him gripping the pillows, still stressed. Your hand took his, squeezing it when your lips finally enveloped him, his length disappearing into your mouth. His breaths were shaky, his hold on your hand getting painfully tight.

He felt like he was in pure bliss, his mouth falling open to pant as his head fell back against the couch practically begging you to keep going. The feeling of your hums had done him in. And his moans, loud and tough, getting whiny towards the end as the euphoria wore off assured you he was fine. He slid his boxers and sweats up quickly, his cheeks red, from the act not embarrassment (he'd say and lie) but you just laid your head on his knee, staring at him, asking how he was.

Good was an understatement. Great, too. Incredible. Amazing. None of those compliments came out. He couldn't speak, just looked back up at the ceiling as his breathing came back under control.

All you'd done in response was tell him he didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to, climbing back into the couch and wrapping your arms around his midsection, resting your head against him. You stayed like that—silent. The only question you dared to ask was if he'd want that again and his response was a kiss.

He realized after that, how truly deeply he loved you.

A feeling he was so unused to, he couldn't pinpoint it for the longest time. You felt safe. Maybe that's what made him want to finally seal the deal with you. Or maybe it was the way his body physically ached in a way that no amount of help from his own hand or your mouth could fix.

Something about it was missing.

He wanted the lights off. You had accepted that, but told him you'd really rather see him. He caved almost instantly, because as afraid he was of you seeing him, he wanted to see you too bad to care enough. You were undressed first, naturally. He'd seen that before, in bed while touching you, or just as you changed it got in the shower. He wasn't any less smitten, still obsessed with every inch of exposed skin. It took a few deep breaths and reassuring words before he was willing to unbutton his shirt.

In fact, he couldn't. He'd asked you to do it.

That felt oddly more intimate to him. Your fingers moved slowly, undoing them one by one, a bit more of his chest exposed with each button undone. You had seen a lot of his scars, after he got more comfortable wearing shorts or shirts that showed his arms. He still never revealed his chest and when you did, he looked away, his teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek to keep from tears brimming in his eyes as he heard the small gasp leave your lips.

He almost jumped when you touched one, your fingertips feeling light as a feather. Tears kept pricking but he refused to let them fall. He was being vulnerable but he couldn't allow himself to be that weak. Your other hand found his cheek, pulling his face to look at your face, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip as you pursed your own, tightly to keep from any strangled sounds escaping.

Your voice was equally as emotional when you eventually spoke, telling him in a shaky voice that he was still pretty. Those words or perhaps how your voice cracked when you said them, broke him. A tear slipped down his cheek and you were quick to brush it away with your thumb and kissed his cheek softly, confessing that you loved him.

He couldn't stand it anymore.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your neck letting himself breathe for what felt like the first time all over again. A real breath. One without any heaviness attached to it because you'd stolen all the stones from his walls one by one. You repeated it, so he knew it wasn't a mistake or accident and he started peppering short kisses to your neck, all the way to your lips, which he kissed deeply, his bare chest pressed entirely around your own.

Your arms were around his neck, in his hair, pulling him closer and his hands started to wander, desperately craving to have you without any barriers anymore. He stared at you, or at least tried to, when he felt your velvety walls surround him, clenching tightly when his hips were finally flushed with yours. His jaw was locked tightly until you started running your hand up and down his spine, telling him he could take a moment, if he needed it.

He did.

Not because he was nervous, since for once, he wasn't, but because he wanted to stare at you in this state and revel in your feeling for a moment more. He did, until it became painful for both of you and every thrust he made was slow and deep, staring into each other's eyes, taking full breaths in at the same time for several moments until his pace was quick, along with your breathing.

Your praise never stopped, even when it wasn't fully coherent and ended in a moan or whine. His own praise for you wasn't lacking either, telling you how perfect you felt, how badly he wanted you, how much he appreciated you waiting on him because he really was enjoying it, probably more than he'd enjoyed anything in his entire life.

When you're both a mess, panting and quiet from the feelings that washed over you both, his body goes limp, laying on top of you. Your hands rub his shoulders reassuringly, although slowly and his hands hold either side of your head, fingers threaded into your hair as he pressed his forehead against yours, feeling your breath on him. It was silent, until he eventually lifted his head to admire you, your stray hairs sticking to your face, your puffy lips, your blown pupils.

He said it back, at that moment.

He loved you too and couldn't stand letting you think anything else for a single moment more.

You didn't respond, but your lips curled into a grin and a heavy sigh left your chest, your hands moving from his shoulders to cup his face and lean up to kiss him.

He rolled you over, causing a slight squeal from you, letting you lay on him so he wasn't crushing you any longer. You rested your head against his chest, silently tracing his scars as he messed with your hair, the moonlight streaming in through the window.

His voice eventually broke the comfortable silence when he whispered to you, asking you to "Say it again."

You didn't hesitate to tell him you'd "Say it as many times as he wanted to hear it."

With his lips twitching, the slight wit he always possessed came back, questioning what you'd do if he "Wanted to hear it forever."

Like before, your response was immediate when you replied, telling him you'd "Say it forever, then."

[ughbrie]

converging threads | zayne

⤜ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ- “And I know what that loneliness feels like.” His voice was rough, raw. “Because when I had nightmares of his life… he dreamt of mine.”

A chill ran through you.

“He dreamt of Linkon. Of Akso. Of—” He swallowed hard, his grip on you unyielding. “You.”

The word hung between you, heavy and fragile at the same time.

“Now, he’s clawing his way into my thoughts, trying to make sense of a life that isn’t his to have.” Zayne’s hands curled into the fabric of your clothes, as if anchoring himself to something tangible. “And every time I look at you—” His voice cracked, his hands shaking as he clutched you. “He’s reaching for you. And I don’t know if it’s me who wants you or if it’s him bleeding through.”

(Or… after the events of Chansia City, Zayne had started to avoid you. More than a week later, in the dead of night, he's outside of your door, struggling with his sense of self—blurring between two worlds.)

⤜ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ- zayne x female reader

⤜ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ- angst, smut, & fluff

⤜ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ- 8k

⤜ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ- nsfw, mdni, softdom!zayne, references to zayne's third anecdote (still in the dark), spoilers to zayne's main story branch (thorns under the moon) and four star memory (fragmented dreams), mentions of childhood trauma and violence, too much angst, oral sex (blowjob), dirty talk, penetration (p in v), clothed sex, riding, breast play, emotional sex, unprotected sex, and creampie.

⤜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ- As a dedicated Zayne main, I've always had a soft spot for Dawnbreaker!Zayne, I just want to give him the biggest hug! While he never explicitly took control of main story Zayne’s body, their connection through dreams and nightmares allowed them to see into each other’s lives. And so, I wanted to explore what it would be like if that connection blurred even further after the events of Chansia City, and how Zayne would react to it. I hope you enjoy reading!

The knock at your door was soft, barely audible over the hum of Linkon City outside. You might have missed it had you not been awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the restlessness clawing at your chest. Something felt wrong.

Hesitating for a moment, you peeled the blankets away and stepped towards the door. When you opened it, Zayne stood there, still as a statue. The warm glow from your apartment barely touched him; he lingered in the shadows of the hallway, his expression unreadable, like he was caught between two worlds—one where he stood before you and another far beyond, too distant to reach.

“Zayne?” Your voice was uncertain, your fingers tightening around the doorframe. He looked normal—his crisp shirt unwrinkled, his coat still shielding him from the cold. But his posture was rigid, like he was torn between memories, caught between the man you knew and something far more elusive, far darker. His breath came slow, controlled, but his fingers twitched at his sides, as if holding onto something unseen, something slipping away from his grasp.

It had been more than a week since you last saw him—more than a week since you clawed your way out of his dreamscape, fighting against the twisted phantoms of his nightmares and the suffocating pull of his uncontrollable evol. More than a week since he began avoiding you, and you couldn’t understand why.

You had searched for him—at Akso Hospital. 

You pushed open the door to Akso Hospital, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling your nose as you made your way down the familiar corridors. The sight of the bustling staff, the low murmur of nurses giving reports—it should have been comforting. But it wasn’t. Every step you took felt heavier, the weight of worry pressing down on your chest.

You were looking for Zayne. It had been a week since you’d seen him, and the silence between you was suffocating. You had tried calling, texting, but there was no sign of him.

You found Greyson near the nurses’ station, chatting with a few other doctors. He noticed you first, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his usual, easy smile appeared.

“Hey,” he greeted, his tone too casual. Too… practiced. “What brings you by?”

“I was hoping to see Dr. Zayne. Is he around?” You tried to keep your voice even, but the question felt like a weight in your chest.

Greyson shifted on his feet, glancing toward the hallway where Dr. Zayne’s office was. “Oh, you know how it is,” he said with a shrug. “He’s been buried in surgeries lately. Really busy.”

You frowned. “Busy? He hasn’t been answering my calls. I’ve tried everything.”

At the sound of your words, Greyson’s gaze flickered uncomfortably, and before he could answer, Yvonne appeared beside him, her bright smile almost too wide.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here today!” Yvonne chirped, her voice all sweetness, but there was a subtle edge to it. “Greyson’s right. Dr. Zayne’s probably just deep in work. You know how he gets, don’t you?”

You nodded, but the unease in your chest grew. “But… I haven’t been able to reach him. And he’s been avoiding me. I’m starting to get worried.”

There was a beat of silence before Yvonne glanced at Greyson, then back at you. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the motion almost too practiced. “Oh, you know Dr. Zayne,” she said, her voice a little too smooth. “He’s a bit of a workaholic. And, well, he’s been dealing with some… personal things lately. I’m sure he’ll be in touch when he’s ready.”

Greyson cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s just focused on… other things right now.”

You felt a knot form in your stomach. Something wasn’t right. Both of them were too evasive, too careful with their words.

“So he’s just been… avoiding me because he’s busy?” You asked, your voice thick with skepticism.

Yvonne’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes shifted just a little. “Exactly! He’ll reach out when he’s ready. Don’t worry.”

But you weren’t convinced. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something they weren’t telling you. Before you could press further, Yvonne’s phone rang, and she quickly excused herself with a bright, almost rehearsed smile.

Greyson rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Zayne’s just… well, Zayne. He’ll be back to his usual self soon enough.”

The words felt hollow, like a lie wrapped in a smile.

You turned to leave, the knot in your stomach tightening. Something wasn’t right, and you were more determined than ever to find out what was going on.

You even went to his home not two days after. You had been patient, given him space, but the silence between you was gnawing at you, and you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

You arrived at his place and paused outside the gate, your heart sinking. The house sat dark and still, as though no one had been home for hours. The front door was locked, the quiet expanse of the yard untouched. No sign of Zayne’s car in the driveway. No movement behind the windows.

Frowning, you reached for your phone, calling him once more. It rang, and rang… and rang. But there was no answer. No familiar voice on the other end. You tried again, and again—each unanswered call tightening the knot of anxiety in your chest. It was unlike him. Even when he was busy at work, he always answered your calls. You thought things had changed between you—gone beyond just childhood friends, past the barriers you once had.

You hadn’t been able to ignore the way things had shifted between the two of you, how you’d shared more, laughed more, and even kissed—moments that felt like stepping into something real, something undeniable. And yet now, in the silence, you felt that connection fraying, slipping out of your grasp.

You reached for the gate, testing it, but it was locked tight. The metal was cold beneath your fingers, the weight of it pressing down on you in a way you couldn’t quite shake. You knocked gently on the gate, your hand hesitant against the metal, but there was no answer. No sound from inside. No footsteps echoing in the distance. Just more silence.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the door, wondering if you were missing something, if you were just being paranoid. But there was no denying the gnawing sense that you were being shut out.

Yet now, here he stood, unannounced, uninvited. The sight of him should have brought relief, but something was off, like he was a mere shadow of the man you knew.

“You should’ve let me in sooner,” he murmured, a wry attempt at a smile barely forming before fading just as quickly. His voice was softer than usual, almost exhausted, like the fight had been taken out of him. You stepped aside instinctively, letting him in. He didn’t move right away. Instead, his gaze lingered on you—as if memorizing every detail, confirming that you were real, that this wasn’t just another one of his nightmares.

Then, finally, he stepped through. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing the two of you in the silence of your small apartment. He exhaled, but this time it was unsteady—as if releasing a breath he’d been holding for far too long. His hands trembled, and he shoved them into his coat pockets, a feeble attempt to mask the unease rolling off him in waves.

“Zayne, where have you been?” The question came out before you could stop it. His avoidance had gnawed at you, making every second of silence between you feel like it stretched on forever.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor for a brief moment, like he was trying to find the right words. Then, finally, his voice broke through, hoarse and fragile, as if he’d been swallowing down too many words for too long. “Every time I close my eyes, I see a world where you don’t exist.”

The confession hit like thunder in your chest. Your breath caught, eyes wide with confusion, but something else too—fear, a strange sense of loss, creeping in. You stared at him, unable to comprehend, yet knowing there was so much more buried beneath the surface.

“It’s not just nightmares anymore,” he whispered, voice barely audible. His eyes flickered with something raw and unfamiliar—something you hadn’t seen in him before. “It’s bleeding into the day. I can’t… separate it. Separate me.”

You frowned, confusion tightening around your thoughts, heart pounding. “Separate what? Zayne, what are you talking about?”

He stiffened, jaw tightening as if he’d realized he’d said too much. He shook his head, dismissing the words before they could fully escape. “Ignore what I said.” he muttered, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.

“Zayne…” You stepped closer, cautious but firm. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

A bitter chuckle escaped him, but there was no humor in it. His hand drifted to his temple, pressing hard as if trying to force something out of his mind. “I don’t know how to explain it.” His voice wavered slightly, a rare crack in his composure. “I don’t even know if it’s mine to explain.”

Your stomach twisted at his words. Zayne was rarely uncertain. But now, he looked lost, like he was trying to hold onto something slipping through his fingers. The man who had always been in control, who always had an answer, was unraveling in front of you.

“Then let me help,” you said softly, reaching for him.

He exhaled sharply, his hands clenching into fists before loosening just as quickly, as if even that took too much effort. “I don’t think you can,” he muttered, barely above a whisper.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his sleeve. He tensed, but didn’t pull away. The warmth of his body under your touch should have felt familiar, comforting, but there was something cold in the air around him that you couldn’t ignore.

“I’m here,” you reminded him gently, voice steady despite the knot in your stomach. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His shoulders sagged just slightly, his resolve faltering under the weight of something neither of you could name. 

You guided Zayne to the couch with a soft insistence, his steps heavy, like each one was taking him further away from something he couldn’t quite grasp. He didn’t resist, but his hesitation was palpable. You noticed the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he sat down, his back stiff, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

You sat next to him, your fingers brushing the fabric of his coat as you settled yourself. The space between you both felt charged, yet strained, like two magnets unwillingly attracted but refusing to align.

Your hand hovered near his arm, unsure, but you couldn’t ignore the impulse to reach out. The last few days—weeks—had felt like a slow, suffocating crawl through a fog. Seeing him like this, so unguarded, was both a relief and a deepening worry.

“Zayne…” You started, your voice low, soft. You weren’t sure how to approach him anymore. He had been pulling away, emotionally distant, and now, even his presence seemed fractured.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his sleeve.

At the first touch, his body flinched. Not an outward movement, but a sharp intake of breath, like a quiet shudder that ran through him. His hazel-green eyes were blown wide, pupils dark and dilated, swallowing the soft color until only a thin ring of green remained. For a brief moment, he looked at you—through you—like he was caught between two realities, struggling to tether himself to the one in front of him.

Then, just as quickly, his gaze flickered away, his throat working around a breath that sounded too controlled, too measured. As if he was holding something back. The air between you thickened, the weight of his restraint pressing into the space between your fingers. His jaw tensed, a sharp line of tension beneath his skin, and yet—he didn’t move away.

With a careful breath, you let your hand rest against his arm, your fingers curling gently around the fabric of his coat. You felt him tense beneath your touch, but it wasn’t from discomfort. No, it was something else. Something deeper. His body shuddered again, more pronounced this time, and you could feel his muscles ripple under the strain of holding back.

“Zayne…” You said his name again, this time softer, as though you were speaking to someone who was slipping away. You moved a little closer, hoping that your proximity would ground him somehow, though you weren’t entirely sure how.

His voice cracked when he spoke, low and hoarse, like a man speaking to a ghost. “Every time you touch me… it’s like… I feel like I’m being pulled in two directions.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you tried to make sense of his words. “What do you mean?” you asked, your hand still resting on his arm, waiting, watching him closely.

Zayne exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching at his sides as if struggling to find an anchor. “I’ve always suffered from nightmares,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “The same ones I’ve always had since I was young. But after what happened at Chansia City…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “It didn’t stop when I woke up.”

Your heart clenched at his words. You knew Zayne had always been plagued by restless nights, but this—this was different. You thought back to that moment at Akso Hospital, when you had found him slumped over his desk.

His brow was creased with the weight of exhaustion. His breathing had been uneven, his hands gripping the fabric of his coat as if he were bracing himself against something unseen. You had hesitated before stepping closer, unsure if you should wake him. But the quiet distress on his face made the decision for you.

“Zayne…” you had whispered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The moment your fingers made contact, he jolted awake with a sharp breath, his eyes wild with something you couldn’t name. For a split second, it was as if he didn’t recognize you, as if he were somewhere else entirely.

But then, his gaze softened, reality bleeding back into him. His breathing was still heavy, his shoulders tense, but when you knelt beside him, concern written all over your face, he didn’t pull away.

Without thinking, you had reached out again, brushing his hair back in a quiet attempt to soothe him. His body sagged under your touch, the tension in his shoulders melting just enough for him to lean forward. And before you could react, he rested his forehead against your chest, his breaths uneven as if the simple act of being close to you was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You had stilled at first, heat creeping up your neck, but you didn’t push him away. Instead, you let him stay there, your fingers threading through his hair in slow, absentminded strokes. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, the sound of his breathing evening out against you, his body losing some of its rigidness.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, barely audible. “Just… let me stay like this for a while.”

And you had. Because for the first time, you realized how deeply tired he was.At the time, you thought he was just tired physically, but now you realized he was tired in a way that ran so much deeper as you watched him sitting on your couch, that same exhaustion clung to him like a shadow, only now it was accompanied by something far worse. He wasn’t just tired. He was unraveling.

“I thought I could ignore it,” he continued, pulling you back to the present. “I thought it would fade eventually. But it’s not stopping.” His fingers curled into the fabric of his coat as if trying to ground himself. “It’s getting worse.”

You swallowed hard. “The nightmares?”

“They’re not just nightmares anymore.” He exhaled sharply, his hands clenching before loosening again. “They’re memories of a life that isn’t mine.” His jaw tightened, his entire body tense with something unreadable. “And the worst part?” His eyes flickered to yours, dark and conflicted. “I feel like I’m walking on air, seeing things that aren’t there, feeling emotions that aren’t mine.”

You frowned. “Zayne, what are you talking about?”

His throat worked around a response, but for a moment, he said nothing, only looking at you with something close to desperation. He shook his head as if trying to shake off the words before they could leave his mouth.

“It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but you weren’t about to let it go.

“It does matter,” you said firmly, stepping closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for more than a week. You look like you’re about to fall apart, and now you’re telling me ‘it doesn’t matter’? What’s happening to you?”

He let out a bitter chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t even know if I can explain it. It’s… there’s another version of me. One I can’t escape. And he—” Zayne cut himself off abruptly, dragging a hand over his face. “He’s ruining everything.”

The conflict in his expression made your stomach twist. You had never seen him like this—so lost, so tangled in something that seemed beyond even his understanding. And when you reached for him again, your fingers brushing past his sleeve against his skin, you saw the way he shuddered.

At first, you thought his reactions stemmed from discomfort—that every shudder, every tensed muscle was his way of pulling away. But then you saw it. The way his breath hitched. The way his lashes fluttered shut for the briefest second, as if savoring the warmth of your touch. As if he had been starving for it. 

It wasn’t rejection. It was restraint.

Your heart pounded. “Zayne…”

His fingers twitched at his sides before he finally spoke, his voice raw. “Every time you touch me…” He exhaled sharply, as if the words themselves were dangerous. “It’s like my world’s losing its sense of direction.”

His confession stole the air from your lungs.

“But it’s not just me that wants this,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s what scares me.”

Your fingers curled slightly around his wrist, grounding both of you in the silence between words. Zayne’s breath was uneven, his body strung taut beneath your touch. You could see it—the war waging within him, the push and pull of something he refused to name. His fingers curled at his sides, clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He was holding himself back.

But from what? From who?

The question burned at the edges of your mind, but you didn’t voice it. Instead, you did the only thing you could think of. You moved.

Slowly, you climbed onto the couch, onto him, your knees settling on either side of his thighs as you straddled his lap. His entire body went rigid beneath you, his breath stalling in his throat.

“You—” His voice broke, a warning tangled in desperation. His hands shot up, as if to push you away—but the moment his palms met your waist, he froze.

A violent shudder ran through him, his grip faltering but never leaving you. He barely held together, his fingers twitched against your sides, his body caught in an unbearable tension. 

“You shouldn’t…” he rasped, but even as he said it, his hands pulled.

Pulled you closer.

Pulled you flush against him, until there was no space left to retreat.

You gasped softly at the sudden contact, at the warmth of him, the way his body molded against yours like he had been starving for this. For you.

His head dipped forward, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as his breath came out in a harsh, unsteady exhale. His grip on your waist tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel how badly he was struggling.

“Zayne…” You whispered his name, hands lifting to cradle his face, to guide him to look at you. He didn’t resist, but the moment your fingers brushed against his jaw, his eyes fluttered shut—his entire body reacting as if your touch was something he had been craving but forbidden from having.

“Every time you touch me…” He repeated, his voice was raw, nearly fractured. “I feel like I’m slipping deeper.”

Your fingers trembled slightly against his skin. “Slipping into what?”

His jaw clenched. His hands trembled against your waist, caught between pulling you closer and pushing you away.

“Him.”

The word sent a chill down your spine.

Zayne’s eyes finally opened, and what you saw there made your breath hitch.

Something was breaking inside him.

Something was bleeding through.

Like the fragile moment before dawn—when night still clung to the sky, desperate to remain, yet the light pressed forward, inevitable. A battle between darkness and the coming sun, neither willing to yield.

You didn’t know who he was, or why Zayne was fighting so hard to keep him at bay, but you could feel it—how much hewas longing for you. How much Zayne himself was afraid of that longing.

Your hands slid from his face to his shoulders, steadying him, grounding him. “You’re still you,” you murmured. “No one else.”

His fingers flexed against your waist, his breath ragged. “Then why does it feel like every time you touch me… I’m losing control of myself?”

He was slipping, unraveling, caught between two selves—one who had you, and one who had only ever ached for you.

And for the first time, Zayne wasn’t sure which one he wanted to be.

You sighed, your fingers curled against his shoulders, gripping him just a little tighter. His body was warm beneath your touch, but the tension in him never eased. If anything, it worsened.

“Zayne,” you whispered, searching his face. “Help me ease your mind, tell me everything. Tell me about him.”

His expression darkened instantly. His hands, still gripping your waist, stiffened before pushing you back—just slightly, just enough to put distance between you.

“No.”

The refusal was sharp, final.

But you didn’t let go. “Zayne, please.”

His jaw locked, his breath coming out in harsh exhales as he tried to rein himself in. But you had already seen it—the flicker of something raw in his gaze, the weight pressing down on him like it was crushing him from the inside.

He turned his head away, his grip tightening before he forced himself to let go. “I don’t want to tell you.” His voice was quieter now, but no less strained. “Because if I do…” His throat bobbed, his hands clenching into fists. “What if you look at me differently?”

Your chest ached. “Zayne—”

“He’s not me,” Zayne bit out, his voice lower now, edged with something close to rage. His fingers dug into the fabric of your clothes as if anchoring himself. “I don’t care what I see, what I feel—he is not me.”

You frowned, your heart pounding. “I didn’t say he was—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped, his fingers digging into you much harder before he wrenched them away, as if touching you made it worse. “It shouldn’t matter. Because whatever he is—whatever he’s done—I am not him.”

His voice cracked at the end, his composure slipping, and it hurt more than anything. Not because of what he wasn’t telling you, but because he was carrying it alone, letting it eat away at him like he deserved it.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “Zayne, I don’t care what you think this means. I don’t care what’s bleeding through or what memories aren’t yours.” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “What hurts me isn’t who you were or weren’t—it’s this.” You gestured between the two of you, the distance he was trying to wedge between you. “It’s you shutting me out, punishing yourself like you have to carry this alone.”

Zayne let out a sharp breath, his fingers curling into fists against the curve of your waist. His grip was tense, hesitant—like he was still fighting himself.

You watched him carefully, the weight of his silence pressing against your chest. He had been resisting, keeping himself locked away behind walls you couldn’t breach. But this time… this time, something shifted.

And then you realized it.

It wasn’t your persistence that made him falter. It wasn’t even the promise that you would accept him, no matter what. It was the fact that you told him it hurt you too. That his silence, his self-inflicted suffering, didn’t just wound him—it wounded you.

Zayne’s throat bobbed, his gaze flickering, as if weighing the consequences of speaking the truth. His fingers flexed against you, his breath uneven.

Finally, he asked, “Do you know why I became a doctor?”

You hesitated. “Because you wanted to save people.”

“Partly,” He let out a bitter laugh. “But mostly because I spent my entire childhood dreaming of a man butchering them.” His hands raked through his hair, gripping at the strands.

“It started when I was twelve.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I didn’t understand it then. I just knew that every night, I saw his hands, covered in blood. I heard the screams, felt the cold metal of a blade I never held.” His fingers flexed against your waist. “And every morning, I woke up terrified that I’d become him.”

You sucked in a quiet breath.

“That’s why I became a doctor,” Zayne muttered, his voice barely audible now. “To erase him. To bury him. Every life I saved was another step away from him.” His gaze snapped back to you, and there was something close to desperation in it.

He paused, and his gaze softened just slightly as it met yours, though there was still that edge of desperation.

“And… I wanted to help you, too. Since the first time I saw you struggling with your heart… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, not like that.”

Your heart pounded. “Zayne…”

“But now?” His gaze locked onto yours, and you almost flinched at the intensity in his eyes. “Now it’s not just nightmares. After Chansia City… it’s like something cracked. Like I bled through him.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

His fingers flexed against your skin, then curled into a fist, as if the words physically hurt to say. “I used to only see flashes. His world, his sins—they were nothing more than fragments. But now? I see his everyday life.” His voice dropped lower, as if saying it out loud made it more real. “I see him waking up in an empty apartment, walking through streets that no longer have names. I see him looking for something—someone—who was never there.”

Your chest tightened. “Zayne—”

“And I know what that loneliness feels like.” His voice was rough, raw. “Because when I had nightmares of his life… he dreamt of mine.”

A chill ran through you.

“He dreamt of Linkon. Of Akso. Of—” He swallowed hard, his grip on you unyielding. “You.”

The word hung between you, heavy and fragile at the same time.

“Now, he’s clawing his way into my thoughts, trying to make sense of a life that isn’t his to have.” Zayne’s hands curled into the fabric of your clothes, as if anchoring himself to something tangible. “And every time I look at you—” His voice cracked, his hands shaking as he clutched you. “He’s reaching for you. And I don’t know if it’s me who wants you or if it’s him bleeding through.”

Your heart pounded.

His pain was something you could see, something you could feel in the way he held you too tightly, in the way he refused to look away, as if afraid you’d vanish if he did.

“Does it change anything?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Zayne’s breath stilled.

“No, it doesn’t,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “I want you. I do. I’ve never denied that.” His fingers curled against your skin, holding you closer. “But this… it’s never felt like this before.”

His gaze darkened, his brows drawing together. “Like I can’t go a second without feeling you, without needing you right here. And I don’t know if it’s just me—if it’s always been me—or if it’s him. But it doesn’t matter.” His voice dropped lower, rough with something unspoken. “Because either way… I still want you.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You’re here, right now. Whatever he feels, whatever he wants—this moment belongs to you.”

His throat bobbed, the conflict in his gaze raw and unfiltered. His fingers twitched where they held you, as if he wanted to push you away and pull you closer all at once.

And then—finally—he whispered, “I don’t know if I can separate us anymore.”

Zayne’s breath hitched, his hands still gripping your waist like a man on the verge of breaking. His body was rigid beneath yours, every muscle coiled tight with restraint. His stormy eyes flickered between your lips and your gaze, warring with something unseen.

You could feel it—the way he was holding himself back, the way his fingers twitched against your skin like he was fighting the instinct to pull you in.

And then, just when you thought he might push you away—he moved.

His lips crashed against yours, the kiss rough, almost desperate. A sharp inhale left him as his fingers tightened at your sides, pressing you flush against him. It wasn’t careful, wasn’t measured like everything else about him. It was hurried, hungry, as if he had been drowning for far too long and you were the only thing keeping him afloat.

Yet even in his desperation, there was hesitation—a tremor in his touch, a battle within him. His grip faltered, his breathing unsteady, as if his own emotions were overwhelming him.

For a moment, he slowed, his lips ghosting over yours, softer now—less frantic, more reverent. His fingers traced up your back, like he was memorizing every inch of you, terrified you might disappear.

But then when you surged forward to deepen the kiss, something in him snapped.

His restraint shattered as his hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. His other hand dug into your waist, as if grounding himself in the feeling of you. He let out a quiet, shuddering breath against your lips, his body trembling beneath your touch.

It wasn’t just desire—it was longing. A desperate, aching need that had been simmering beneath his skin for far too long.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

He kissed you harder, as if trying to chase away the ghosts of a world where you didn’t exist—where he had spent endless nights reaching for something that was never there.

Zayne’s breathing was ragged as he suddenly tore himself away from you, his forehead pressing against yours, his grip on your waist still firm but trembling. His chest rose and fell in unsteady heaves, as if he had just surfaced from deep waters.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasped, his voice thick with something raw and desperate. His fingers flexed against your waist before slowly dragging up your sides, his touch both grounding and possessive. “But I need to feel—” His words cut off, a quiet ‘fuck’ slipping from his lips as he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stop.

You could see it—feel it. The battle raging within him. The desperate need to claim this moment as his own, to separate himself, to make sure that this—this longing, this ache, this hunger—was his, and not something bleeding over from the nightmares that haunted him.

His fingers ghosted over your arms before gripping your wrists, guiding them up to rest against his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms, erratic and heavy, proof of his struggle. His eyes searched yours, dark with emotion, pleading for something he couldn’t voice.

“I need to know it’s me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not him. Not the dreams. Just… me. But I don’t trust myself enough not to hurt you.”

His fingers brushed your skin, hesitant, reverent—like he was afraid of his own hands.

“But I trust you.”

The words felt heavier than anything else he had said tonight, laced with the weight of every nightmare, every fear, every ghost of a life that wasn’t his. He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“I need you to take control,” he murmured, each syllable careful, deliberate. “I need to know this is real—that you’re real—that I’m real.” His hands curled into fists before he forced them to relax against you. “Because if I let go now… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

There was no mistaking what he meant. No mistaking the conflict in his gaze—the desperation tangled with restraint, the need warring with self-loathing.

Your hands slid up from his chest to cup his face, fingertips brushing against the sharp angles of his jaw. 

“It’s you, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice steady, certain. “You.”

You tilted his face up, brushing your lips against his—a whisper of a touch, just enough to tether him to the present, to this moment with you. He shuddered beneath your touch, his hands tightening at your waist as if anchoring himself.

“I’m here,” you continued, pressing another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another along the line of his jaw. “This is real. We’re real.”

A sharp exhale left him, his resolve breaking little by little as you pressed against him. His grip on your waist faltered, then returned, stronger—desperate.

“Let me take care of you,” you murmured against his skin.

He shuddered at your words, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he wrestled with the warring emotions inside him. When they opened again, the desperation had intensified, the dark gray irises nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils.

“Show me,” he rasped, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. “Make me believe it.”

You took your time, trailing kisses along his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt as your lips travelled down. You wanted to savor this moment, to make sure he knew it was him, that this was real.

As you sank to your knees before him, you looked up at Zayne through your lashes. The raw vulnerability in his expression made your heart ache. You wanted to erase every nightmare, every fear, every shadow that haunted him.

“You’re real,” you murmured, your breath ghosting over his cloth-covered arousal. “This is real.”

With a steadying breath, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the bulge straining against his zipper. You could feel the heat of him, the throbbing need, and it made your own body ache in response.

You worked slowly, unzipping him with deliberate care, letting your fingers brush against his arousal as you did. He was already hard, the thick length of him stretching the fabric of his boxers. 

You haven’t seen him naked before, and crossing this line made your thighs clench. Glancing up at him, you caught his gaze, holding it as you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down. His cock sprang free, long and thick and perfect, the swollen head already glistening with need.

“Beautiful,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around the thick base of Zayne’s cock, giving him a firm squeeze as you gazed up at him with hooded eyes. “You’re beautiful, Zayne.”

Slowly, teasingly, you started to stroke him, your soft palm gliding along his hard length. You could feel every throbbing vein and ridge, committing the shape of him to memory.

Leaning in, you breathed over his swollen cock head, then, with a deliberate slowness that was almost torturous, you dragged the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the thick vein that ran from base to tip. You lingered at the sensitive spot just below the head, swirling your tongue around it before giving it a firm press.

Zayne shuddered and groaned, his fingers flexing in your hair as you dragged your tongue back down to the base, your hand following the same path. When you reached the bottom, you dipped your tongue into the neat little slit at the tip, tasting the first salty drops of his arousal.

Savoring his flavor, you wrapped your lips around the swollen head, your soft mouth stretching around his impressive girth. You suckled gently, your cheeks hollowing as you began to take him deeper, inch by hard inch.

“Your mouth… it feels so g-good…” he groaned.

The praise that escaped his lips made the flush on your face more evident. As your lips moved slowly down his shaft, encasing him in the slick heat of your mouth, your tongue undulated along the thick vein on the underside as you took him deeper, until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat.

You held yourself there for a long moment, relishing the heavy, throbbing weight of him, the musky scent of his arousal flooding your senses. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you began to bob your head, taking him deeper into your throat with each downward motion.

Your hand worked in tandem with your mouth, stroking and squeezing as you sucked him. You could feel him growing harder, the thick length of him pulsing against your tongue as you pleasured him.

“Fuck… just like that…”

You couldn’t help but moan around his cock at his groans, your brain committing the sounds to memory. You doubled your efforts when you felt he was close, sucking harder, stroking faster, your tongue never still as it lapped and swirled and caressed every hard, throbbing inch of him.

His grip on your hair tightened, his hips starting to piston forward, fucking your mouth as you sucked him with wild abandon. You could feel his body tensing, his breath coming in harsh pants and groans. 

“I can’t… I can’t hold back much longer…”

And then, with a roar that was nearly feral in its intensity, he came. His cock jerked and throbbed as it erupted, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum down your eager throat.

You swallowed it all, working your throat to milk every last drop from his pulsing length. The taste of him was intense, the salty-sweet flavor of his essence exploding on your tongue.

As the waves of his release began to ebb, you slowly pulled back, letting his still hard cock slip from your lips with a lewd pop. You licked your lips, savoring the lingering taste of him as you gazed up at Zayne with a look of pure, sated desire.

“Zayne,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “It’s you. This is you. You’re real.”

You placed a soft, lingering kiss on the tip of his cock before nuzzling your cheek against his thigh, looking up at him with a smile that was pure tenderness mixed with deep, abiding lust.

As the last tremors of his intense orgasm faded, Zayne reached down and gently but firmly pulled you up by your arms, urging you back into his lap. You went willingly, straddling his hips as you sat facing him.

His hands slid around to your back, one resting high on the curve of your shoulder blades, the other splayed across the small of your back, pulling you flush against his strong chest. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

Gazing into your eyes, Zayne leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals your breath. It was a kiss filled with gratitude, with hunger, with a desperate need to claim you, to make you his.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him, pressing your soft curves against the hard planes of his body. His tongue delved into your mouth, stroking along yours, tasting himself on your lips and tongue.

As you both lost yourselves in the kiss, you could feel Zayne’s cock, still semi-erect and slick with your saliva, nudging against your core. The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making you ache with a renewed desire.

Almost unconsciously, your hips began to move, grinding against his in a slow, sensual rhythm. You could feel the heat building between your thighs, the dampness of your arousal soaking through your panties.

Zayne groaned into your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt your hips rolling against his. His cock twitched and began to harden further, growing thicker and longer with each passing second.

Breaking the kiss, Zayne trailed his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your racing pulse. “Ride me,” he growled against your skin, his voice low and rough with renewed desire. “I need to feel you, all of you, surrounding me, consuming me, making me forget everything but your name.”

You shuddered at his words, at the raw, primal need in his voice. Reaching down, you pushed your panties aside, baring your slick, needy sex to the cool air and his heated gaze. You could feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, a testament to how much you wanted him, needed him.

With a roll of your hips, you positioned yourself over his hardening length, feeling the thick head nudging against your entrance, you slowly sank down. You were so wet, so ready for him, that he slid inside you with a single, smooth thrust.

You both groaned at the sensation, your inner walls fluttering and clenching around his thickness as he stretched and filled you completely. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it brushed against your sensitive flesh, igniting nerve endings you didn’t know you had.

Zayne’s hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to ride him. You started slowly, rising up until just the tip of his cock remained inside you, before sinking back down, taking him to the hilt.

“You feel so good, love.” he murmured, his lips parted open.

With each downward motion, you could feel the pleasure building, the coil of tension in your core winding tighter and tighter. 

You arched your back and Zayne leaned forward, freeing your breasts from the confines of your shirt as he lifted it by the hem. He captured one straining nipple in his mouth, suckling and nipping at the sensitive bud. His free hand slid from your hip to the juncture between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the swollen nub in tight, fast circles.

You cried out, your head falling back as the sensations overwhelmed you. Your hips moved faster, rising and falling in a frantic rhythm as you chased your pleasure. The wet, obscene sounds of your coupling filled the room, spurring you both on.

His other hand inch upward, holding your head firmly, his fingers tangling in your hair, Zayne tilted your chin up to gently force your gaze to meet his intense, hazel-eyed stare. He let out a strangled moan, “Say my name, love. Come on…”

Zayne’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh as he guided your increasingly desperate movements. His own hips surged up to meet yours, driving his thick length deeper, harder, faster into your clutching heat.

“Zayne,” you breathed, “You’re the only one I want, the only one I need.”

His breathing grew ragged, each exhale escaping through gritted teeth as he lost himself in the slick slide of your bodies joining again and again. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mixing with the staccato cries spilling from your lips.

Zayne’s hand moved from your clit to your breast, squeezing the soft mound roughly as he pinched and rolled the stiff peak between his fingers. He leaned down, his hair falling forward as he dragged his tongue over your collarbone, tasting the salt of your skin.

“Fuck, just like that…” he growled against your neck, his voice strained. “S-Say my name again—please…”

His words sent shivers down your spine, making your inner muscles clench around him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it stretched you, filled you, owned you.

“Z-Zayne…!” you moaned.

Zayne’s thrusts became more erratic, more desperate at the cry from your lips. The hand on your hip slid around to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him as he pounded up into you. The couch creaking with each surge of his hips, the sound mingling with your cries and his grunts.

You could feel the tension building in your core, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter as you climbed towards your peak. Your nails raked down Zayne’s nape as you held on for dear life.

With a harsh curse, Zayne slammed up into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his release overtook him. His cock jerked and pulsed inside you, painting your insides with his hot release.

The sensation of his release pushed you over the edge, your own climax crashing through you like a tidal wave. Your body convulsed, melting into him as your inner muscles clamped down around him while you came apart in his arms.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you gasping for air as the aftershocks of your release rippled through you. Zayne’s arms tightened around you, drawing you in close, his heartbeat steady beneath his damp shirt, grounding you in the moment.

In the quiet aftermath, as your breath began to steady, Zayne placed a gentle kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there as if memorizing the moment. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice raw and heavy with emotion. “For this. For everything.”

You gently cupped his face, guiding him to look at you. “You have me, Zayne,” you said softly, your words steady and sure. “No matter who you are, no matter who you become—I’ll never walk away.”

He paused as his fingers brushed gently across your damp cheek.

He spoke, his voice was soft, almost hesitant. “All I know now is that… the only thing I’m sure of,” he began, his forehead resting against yours once more, “is you.” He swallowed, his grip around you tightening as if trying to ground himself in the present.

You thought that would be the end of it, but he exhaled, a shudder racking through him.

“I never believed in fate,” he added, his voice low, but without any trace of bitterness—only a quiet acceptance. “But now, I do. Because no matter where I am, or who I am… you’re the constant. The one thing that’s always been real.”

He paused, his words heavy with an ache that tightened your chest. “And I think… I think I’m meant to love you in every life, in every timeline. I’m meant to be with you. And no matter how complicated it gets, no matter what happens, I’ll always end up finding you.”

His grip on you tightened further, pulling you closer, as if to make sure you were really there. “Now… I can’t help but feel… bad for him.”

A heavy sigh escaped him, thick with weight and regret. “He doesn’t have you. He doesn’t get to have this—this connection.” His voice wavered, raw with something unspoken. “And I think that’s what hurts the most. No matter how much I try to separate myself from him, I can’t shake the feeling that a version of me is still reaching for you. That somewhere… in every universe, in every life, even if you don’t exist in it—it will always be you.”

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 if you want to check out more of my writings, head on to here — masterlist.

[thejujvtsupost]

It’s Always Been You

🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎

Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭

Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.

This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.

“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.

It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”

“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”

“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”

“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.

You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”

“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”

The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”

Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”

A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”

But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.

He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.

“C-Caleb…”

He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.

You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”

Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”

Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.

He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.

Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“This really isn’t the time for that—”

“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”

Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.

“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”

“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.

He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”

Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created

The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.

You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.

Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.

But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.

According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.

The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.

And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…

“Welcome home, I—”

“Who else has been here?”

“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”

“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…

His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”

Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”

Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”

A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”

“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”

“That night means everything to me!”

“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”

That stopped him short, “you mean?”

“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”

His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.

Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”

“Finally used your brain, did you?”

“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.

“Sweetheart—”

“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”

His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”

“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”

A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.

Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.

“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”

“Go away.”

“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”

You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”

The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”

“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”

“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.

Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”

A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.

“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”

“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”

“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”

“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”

“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.

“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”

Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.

Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”

“Did you like it?”

You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”

“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”

The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.

You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”

I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl

All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto

[brawberryz]

Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note:English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You were going to die

You were going to die this way, alone and without anyone ever knowing of your existence, what a pathetic way to die

The magic had ended, it was only a matter of minutes before you became a witch you knew that the transformation was going to be painful and in a way you believed that you deserved this fate

You were the one who agreed to become a magical girl it is your fault, if your 14 year old self had known that this was the end maybe she would have rejected you

Now you were here, about to die, with no friends or family who cared about you

Family

You didn't know if you could call them that, they never cared about you they always left you aside and acted as if you didn't exist maybe they only did it unconsciously and they really cared about you, you knew that deep down for all of them you were just a burden and useless, they didn't tell you directly but they made you feel it and you believed that they were right to feel that way

Your mother never He was someone important, a prostitute who was lucky enough to sleep with Bruce Wayne himself, you knew he didn't even consider you a daughter, just a mistake, one of his many mistakes

Your siblings weren't that different from your father either, each one hurt and wounded you in different ways

Richard, the oldest considered himself the best, the oldest brother, he always bragged that he cared so much about his siblings that he would do anything for them

He was good to everyone except you, you wanted to believe that he cared about you but you knew it was a lie, he lies, he always lies and you knew it very well, maybe at that time you were too young to understand some things, but you knew that none of them considered you family

You still remember when he promised to go with you to the zoo, it was 5 years ago when you first arrived at the mansion, but he never kept the promise he was only good to you for the first few weeks then it seemed like he didn't care, he was just being good to you out of courtesy

Jason, you didn't have much to say about him, almost You didn't interact and if you did, he would just insult you and tell you to get out of his way while pushing you. You had heard that he had been revived and that thanks to that he now has that personality. You never got to meet him in person since when you arrived at the mansion he had already died.

You tried to get along with him, but it never worked. You always got an insult or a bad look from him. You never understood why he didn't like you. You never said anything to him. You were always good to him and what you received in return were insults. It wasn't fair.

Although, to be honest, nothing in your miserable life was fair.

Tim, you met him when Bruce brought him to the mansion, he was a year older than you but for the first time you thought you could have a friend your age, how wrong you were

At first he was distant, you thought it was because of his parents' death that he behaved that way, you gave him his space and tried not to be too annoying

But time passed and he simply spent his time ignoring your presence, you didn't understand what you had done to make him ignore you, you were good to him and treated him like a brother, why was everyone so mean to you?

When you tried to talk to him he would just tell you that he was busy or that you were being annoying, you knew that he had a lot of activities for being Red Robin, but deep down in your soul, you longed for him to look at you just for 1 second, to realize that he exists and that you are not just the shadow of the family

Damian, you welcomed him with open arms and gave him your support, you thought that since you were blood brothers you would get along better

But the only thing you received was that his katana almost pierced your head, his arrogant attitude and his enormous ego was something remarkable

He never missed an opportunity to tell you how pathetic you were and that you would never be worthy of being his family, that you were a shame, a disgrace that hammered the Wayne name

In a way he was right, you were never anyone just the bastard daughter of Bruce Wayne

With Barbara, Stehp and Cass you couldn't say much, Barbara was too busy with her affairs that she didn't even pay attention to you even though Sometimes she asked you how you were, but it was too weird

Stehp was neither good nor bad, she never treated you badly but she ignored you in some way, you never managed to talk to her directly, the only interactions you had with her were sidelong glances but nothing more

Cass, you hardly talk to her, but she was one of the few people who knew you existed, she was a person of few words although she seemed a little interested in you, but they never got to have a long conversation, just a few words like greetings or goodbyes

Your thoughts were cut off after hearing a voice, that damn voice...

"Do you have any last wishes, (name)?"

The cat spoke slowly approaching you, he was the one who had proposed you become a magical girl and you foolishly accepted, you thought that you finally had a true purpose that you could protect another like your family did, but you were too immature and stupid to realize the truth

"Yes...yes, I have one last wish."

You could barely speak, you felt like your body was heavy, it was like you had been stabbed in the back by more than 10 knives

"I hear you."

Kyubey looked too calm, and it was normal, they had already seen millions of magical girls die the same way

"I wish...I wish I could say goodbye to my father, please..."

That sounded more like a plea than a wish, in the back of your mind the only thing you wanted was for your dad to hug you, that this was all just a bad dream and tell you that everything was okay, but you knew it wasn't true

In a few seconds your vision went white and you were back in the halls of the mansion, in front of you was Bruce, walking backwards through the halls

You ran as fast as your legs could and when you reached him you gave him a big hug

Bruce He staggered at the sudden hug, he hadn't even noticed your presence or your steps

He turned his gaze and there you were, his daughter, hugging him tightly, as if you were afraid he would disappear

"(Name), is something wrong? I'm too busy to-"

Before he could speak again you quickly separated from him, you moved away a little before giving him a small smile

"I just wanted to hug a little, but anyway it's time to go"

You said as you stepped back a little

Leave? That word repeated itself in Bruce's head, what did you mean by leave? Before he could process everything you said something

"Oh, I almost forgot, take care of yourself okay? I don't like seeing you hurt"

You turned on your heels and then walked in the opposite direction and as you walked away and left a confused Bruce you shouted

"Hey dad! I love you..."

You said as you turned your head and gave him a sincere smile, you felt like tears were about to fall from your eyes

When you finished speaking you walked again and your presence disappeared the further you went down the halls of the mansion

_

That last interaction with you left him thinking, did you mean when you said "leave"? Even if he tried to concentrate on the cases in the Batcave, it was impossible, he needed answers and he knew where he could get them.

He walked through the halls of the mansion again while looking for your room, but he didn't remember it, how could he forget something so important? He's supposed to be your father but he doesn't even remember your age, the last time he saw you you were so little, a scared little girl who clung to his legs

How much had he missed? But this time it was going to be different

There would be room after room but they all looked the same, until he found one in particular, it was small and it was far from all the other main rooms

It was decorated in pink and lots of fluffy stuffed animals, but something was wrong

You weren't there, you were supposed to always spend your time in your room since you preferred to study from home, or that's what Alfred told him, but there was nothing it's like you had disappeared

He quickly went down the stairs, maybe you were in the kitchen

But to his surprise all the family members were there, except you...

"Has anyone seen (name)?"

Bruce said trying to stay calm, he had searched the entire mansion but there was no trace of you

"Why do you ask?"

Richard seemed indifferent to the question, he didn't understand why Bruce was so nervous

"I've been looking for her but she's nowhere to be found"

Bruce held on to the door, for some reason he felt too nervous, the thought that you might have left or that something might have happened to you made his stomach turn in a bad way

"You worry too much, Bruce, she's probably gone"

Jason spoke while leaning back in his chair, if he was honest he never paid much attention to you, he wondered what had happened to make Bruce so hysterical

"You don't understand, she never leaves the mansion"

Bruce decided to raise his voice, he didn't understand why out of nowhere everyone was so indifferent to you, something too hypocritical seeing from him since he was the one who ignored you first

"You worry too much B, I put a GPS on her a while ago, wherever she is I'll find her"

Tim spoke while writing on his phone computer, his confident tone disappeared as soon as he saw something on his laptop

"What's wrong, it seems like you've seen a ghost"

Jason joked looking at Tim

"I...I can't find her"

Tim didn't understand what was happening, it's like you've disappeared from the face of the earth as if nothing

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

Richard spoke now worried looking at Tim, how was it possible that you disappeared the GPS was too well hidden for you to take it out, something was happening and he didn't like it

"I can't find her I'm serious! It's like... like her existence had completely disappeared"

Tim tried to look for some sign of you but there was nothing, it's like you'd never existed

Everyone turned to look, missing? How was that possible, you never left the mansion and now as if nothing happened you disappeared

"Missing?"

Damian repeated angrily but at the same time, how dare you disappear like this? You are supposed to be his older sister, you should stay in the mansion with him, by his side, but you decided to leave like an idiot.

Somewhat hypocritical on his part since most of the time he spent his time saying that you would never be his sister, ironies of life, right?

Something inside them lit up, the thought of someone or something doing something to their sister made their blood boil

They were going to find you and they were going to make the person who took you away from them pay, you would never abandon them, right?

You always cared for them so much and loved them, you would never leave them alone like this, they are your family

It didn't matter if they had to get their hands dirty, they were going to bring you home no matter what, even if it meant having to put their morals aside

How stupid were they, they left you aside for so long and now they want you back?

What a shame that no one told them that they had lost you forever and that you were never coming back, never...

My life if I made my readers insert live a miserable life full of trauma was a sport.

[fairqves]

୨୧ NIGHTMARES

───── IN WHICH you have a bad nightmare about the members cheating on you!

(🐰) ⟡ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘 — 𝒽yung line! enha & 𝑓! reader .. angst to fluff, established relationship ♡ ◞ wc 0.3K each 𓂅 warnings : topic of cheating, skinship, kissing.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

LEE HEESEUNG

YOU FOUND YOURSELF waking up gasping, your body hot and uncomfortable as your heart hammered in your chest.

the vivid memories of the dream lingered in your memory—the distant look on heeseung’s face, the other person’s face, and the way he had looked at you like you were absolutely nothing to him.

you sat up, the blankets tangled around your legs as you tried to shake off the ache in your chest.

heeseung stirred beside you with a groan at the disturbance of his slumber, his hand immediately reaching out for you, his voice groggy as he blinked up at you. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶 ♡

“what’s wrong, babe?” his eyes were barely open, but the concern in his voice was quite clear. you didn’t want to tell him. it was stupid, simply a figment of your imagination, but the pain still felt so real.

he noticed your hesitation, now fully awake as he sat up to face you. “hey—talk to me. did you have a bad dream?”

“it’s nothing,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze, but your trembling voice betrayed you.

heeseung gently cupped your face with a pout, his thumbs wiping away the glossy tears you didn’t realize had fallen. “nothing doesn’t make you cry like this. tell me, baby.”

finally, you broke—spilling everything in a blabber of words, how you dreamt that he had cheated on you, how cold and uncaring he had been in the dream, and how it left you feeling so vulnerable.

heeseung’s eyes widened, and his expression softened into something that made your chest ache even more—love and guilt for something he hadn’t even done.

“angel,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. “i don’t know what i did in your dream, but i’m so sorry it made you feel like this. i promise you, on everything in this world—i would never, ever, ever do that to you.”

his hold around you was firm, grounding, and his voice gentle as he reassured you. “i love you so much, words can’t even explain it. you’re the only one for me in this lifetime, and all my other ones too, okay? i love you and you only. whatever happened in that dream isn’t real, but i know your emotions are, and i’ll do whatever i can to make you feel better.”

you sniffled at his words as you clutched onto his shirt tighter, the pain easing away as he held you in his embrace.

he stayed up with you for the rest of the night, holding you close in his arms and whispering sweet affirmations until your breathing evened out and sleep finally came.

PARK JONGSEONG

THE SOUND OF YOUR SOBS had quickly pulled jay out of his deep slumber immediately.

he bolted upright, his sharp gaze scanning the room before settling on you, curled up onto your side with your face buried in your hands.

“honey, what’s wrong?” his voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to touch your shoulder. you flinched at his touch, which only deepened his worry. “did something happen? are you hurt?”

you shook your head, trying to compose yourself and get it together, but the dream had felt so real.

his voice, the way he held someone else so easily, and the way he had walked away from you with no regrets—it all came rushing back.

jay’s hand hovered in the air before he gently turned you to face him. “hey, look at me. please.” his voice was softer now, his brows furrowed in concern.

you took a shaky breath and finally met his gaze. “i had a dream that you.. that you cheated on me.”

jay blinked, his lips parting in surprise. for a moment, he didn’t know what to say, but then he saw the tears pouring down your face, the pain and heartbreak written all over your features, and his chest tightened.

“y/n,” he began carefully, his hands settling on the sides of your face. “i don’t know what happened in that dream, but i’m so sorry it hurt you like this.” his voice cracked slightly as he continued.

“you mean everything to me. even the thought of hurting you like that—” he stopped, shaking his head as if even imagining it was too much to bear.

“it wasn’t real,” you whispered, but your voice wavered.

“no, but your feelings are,” jay said reassuringly. “and i’m here to remind you that you’re the only one i want. i don’t care what dream jay did—i’m the real one, and i’d never do anything to lose you.”

he stayed with you, talking softly about the future he envisioned with you—little details like the places he wants to travel with you and the kind of house he dreams of building together. his words were like the calm after a storm, slowly mending the cracks the dream had left behind.

SIM JAEYUN

YOU DIDN’T REALIZE you had been crying in your sleep until you woke up to jake shaking you gently. “y/n? wake up. are you okay?” his voice was thick with drowsiness but filled with concern.

when you opened your eyes, the sight of his worried face brought a fresh wave of tears. he frowned, pulling you close. “hey, what’s wrong? talk to me.”

“i—i had a dream,” you managed to choke out, your voice muffled against his chest.

“what kind of dream?” jake’s voice was calm, but his hands trembled slightly as he held you, as if he were preparing himself for whatever you were about to say.

“you cheated on me,” you whispered, the words feeling like poison on your tongue.

jake pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide. “what?” his reaction was immediate—hurt flashed across his face, but it was quickly replaced by a sadness. “oh, baby. i would never do that to you.”

“i know it was just a dream,” you said quickly, embarrassed by how emotional you felt. “but it felt so real, jake. i can’t shake it off.”

he didn’t say anything at first, he just pulled you back into his arms, holding you as though you might disappear. “i hate that you even had to feel like that, even in a dream,” he whispered against your hair.

“i love you so much, and the thought of hurting you like that—” he broke off, taking a deep breath. “i’d rather lose everything than lose you.”

jake spent the rest of the night proving it wasn’t just words. he showered you with affection, his hands brushing your hair back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple, your forehead, your cheeks. he didn’t let you go until he was sure you believed him.

PARK SUNGHOON

YOU WOKE UP ONLY to find sunghoon’s side of the bed empty, which only made the lingering weight of the dream worse.

the image of him with someone else, his cold voice telling you he was in love with someone else, played on repeat in your mind.

your cries must have been louder than you thought because moments later, sunghoon appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.

“you’re awake,” he said, his tone soft. “i heard you mumbling in your sleep. you okay?”

you shook your head, biting your lip in attempt to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. sunghoon was at your side in an instant, placing the glass on the nightstand and pulling you into his arms.

“what happened? did you have a nightmare?”

you nodded, but the words wouldn’t come out. sunghoon pulled back slightly to look at you, his hands cupping your face. “whatever it is, it’s okay. you can tell me.”

“i dreamt you cheated on me,” you finally admitted, your voice breaking at the words. sunghoon’s face fell, his brows furrowing together in confusion and pain at the sheer thought.

“cheated on you? y/n, no. never.” his voice was firm, almost desperate. “how could you even dream of something like that?”

“i know it wasn’t you,” you said quickly, tears streaming down your face. “but it felt so real, and i woke up feeling like i lost you.”

sunghoon sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you didn’t lose me. you never will.” his voice softened, and he rested his forehead against yours. “i don’t know what dream-me was thinking, but real-sunghoon is so crazy about you, it’s embarrassing sometimes.”

his attempt to cheer you up brought a small, shaky smile to your lips, which he immediately noticed.

“there it is,” he said softly, caressing away your tears. “that’s the smile i love. don’t let some stupid dream take it away.”

sunghoon stayed close to you all night, his warm presence being a reassurance—he made you laugh with funny stories and whispered sweet affirmations until the ache in your chest finally faded.

© FAIRQVES 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. i’m in love with my theme rn like omg why did i eat down.. anyways everybody plz pray there’s a snowday on monday !!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun

[hwajin]

☆°. — burn me | hhj

genre: smut

pairing: nerd!hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 3k

cw: wax/ heat play, dacryphilia, hyunjin is insanely needy

author's note: this hyunjin is @astraystayyh 's and hers ONLY. (she holds a gun to my head forcing me to say this)

You had wanted Hyunjin to speak to you. To reach out to you, to tell you things about himself. You knew he was shy, and you liked that about him. You liked when his ears shot red because you gave him a simple compliment, to his new computer set-up, or how very eloquently he helped you out with your Statistics homework. You liked how his body jolted when you touched him, when your fingers tickled him featherlight while he was studying, head deep in a book. You liked it even more when you teased him beneath the table when you dined out, a leg of yours creeping up his trembling one, and when he looked at you as though you were crazy. As though you were doing something so very forbidden, as though he never wanted you to stop.

But you had told him that you wanted to know more. That, yes, you could often read his face, his eyes, his body as it was, that he was an open book regarding his feelings, his preferences – sexual or not – his moods; but that it wasn’t enough. You wanted him to tell you if he was having a bad day, if he was struggling with the pressure he put on himself. You wanted him to tell you if he was feeling good, when you let your fingertips dance delicately across his stomach, tracing the lines of his faint muscles, wondering where they came from with the lack of exercise and the hours spent in front of his computer. You wanted to know if there was something he wanted to do, he craved to try, dreamed of at night. What he thought about when he lay alone in his bed, on nights you couldn’t spend together, what went through his mind when he closed his eyes and touched himself. You wanted him to spell it out. To tell you. To get past his futile embarrassment and open himself up to you.

You were looking at the package in your hands as you were sitting at the edge of Hyunjin’s bed. Perplexed. Curious. The water hitting the tiles in the other room reminded you that your boyfriend would take a while to come out, always preferring long showers, always waiting for the stream to turn cold before he considered reaching for the towel; so you were left figuring out the contents of the package yourself.

Wax. Massaging wax. Wax which looked too… sensual to be put on his windowsill and lit on romantic evenings. Wax which he had ordered for different purposes, you were sure.

And you knew you were right when Hyunjin, not fifteen minutes later, stood in front of you, stuttering, flushed, the redness on his cheeks spreading all around, his glasses still fogged up from the condensation in the bathroom. It didn’t help his embarrassment that he had chosen to only throw around a towel over his waist; you liked that. You liked that he deemed clothes as nihil after his showers; you both knew that whenever he was done studying, long past midnight, clothes would discard themselves from your bodies in mere minutes, anyways. You liked that though he was shy, he granted himself to you in a certain way, gifted you a part of his vulnerability. That he wasn’t afraid to be loved by you.

“Listen, I wanted to tell you…”, he started. But he didn’t make it far. Words failed him, the heat on his face distracted him. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes; and you hadn’t even said anything. You had only watched him, knowingly, before he had sat down on the bed, next to you, face in his hands to hide his embarrassment. Mumbling apologies you giggled at, because “Why? You did nothing wrong?” You couldn’t help but tense at the sound which escaped him at that, a faked sob, a deep whimper, something between that and an embarrassed laugh before he bent his body further into his arms. Hiding himself. Exposing himself. Because the skin on his back moved with him as he did, and you wanted to touch it. Because the skin on his stomach folded into million creases, tummy soft and protruding, and you wanted to kiss it.

“No, but I feel like I should have told you, before… before I just order something you might- like- end up not being into. And…”, he looked at you then, barely. Glanced at you from beneath the confines of his arms, glasses sitting on his nose crooked. The look in his eyes when he struggled to find the bravery to speak, to admit. “I’m not even sure I’m into… wax play; heat play. Whatever. I wanted to… try it. On myself- by myself. Before we tried it together.”

You chuckled, and he closed his eyes in pained expression again. You could say you had never seen him so crimson, but that would be a lie; you saw him so crimson every day, whenever you tickled a confession out of him by kissing the lobe of his ear, or when you sighed out how good he felt when he found himself hovering over you, inside you. Quite frankly, you saw him dripping in red more than you saw his actual skin, and it made you chuckle at him again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, love. And you don’t have to- like, know exactly what you’re into to tell me it’s something you wanna try. We can experiment together.”, you said while sliding closer to him along the mattress. You felt the heat of his body radiating over to your own, and you nudged his shoulder slightly with your head. Made him glance at you again, from the side. You smiled at the smile he granted you, giggled then, to soothe him some more. Your shy lover. Your lover who bore secrets so erotic and deep you feared to never get behind them all in this lifetime.

“And besides, it’s more fun together.”, you ended with a playful wink, and Hyunjin’s whine turned into a laugh, and it sent a shiver along your neck, behind your ears.

It’s how you found yourself over his body. Watching his limbs spread across the bed, his fingers digging into the pillow beneath his head, the knuckles white. It made his arm tense up, made his veins shine blue in the relative darkness of the room. Ignited only by candles. Smelling only of vanilla. And his body. And sex.

When the first drip of hot wax had spilled on his naked body, close to his navel and so red against his pale skin your eyes had fluttered, Hyunjin had hissed. He had jumped in his place, a big palm reaching for you and long fingers digging into your flesh. You had asked if he was okay; he had looked almost concerned, and you’d been sure he’d tell you to stop. To just try something different. That it didn’t feel like he’d imagined it to. But then he’d raise his head a little, and his eyes had searched for yours; and you knew he had loved it. You knew that a little more of this, and he’d be a puddle in his own mattress, a wet, whining, desperate puddle in your hands.

Now, his lips were as red as the dried wax all across his body. Scattered here and there, two drops on his collarbone, perky and bony whenever he moved. Three drops on his chest, dangerously close to his nipples; he had whined particularly loud at those. The drops formed a path to his sex, scattering the skin there the most. On the lines by his abdomen, the dips in his hips, pooling there. Cracking at his thighs because he moved so much, squirmed under you uncontrollably. Hyunjin had spread his legs somewhere in the process; he was so needy, so lost in chasing after his pleasure that he lost himself, found himself in your eyes and grew bashful. You had taken the opportunity, had seen the supple flesh of his inner legs, so close to his darkened erection, that you let a few drops fall there. And Hyunjin had screamed. He had bitten the back of his hand, remembering the other students in the dorm. Had forgotten all about them in a manner of seconds when you did it again, let wax meet the sensitivity of his skin, and he had cried your name. Had writhed and groaned into the pillow beneath him. Had struggled finding his glasses when he’d lay on his back again.

You watched his bent arm, the way he was digging his fist into the space between the pillow and his hair. Struggling. Whining. Constantly whining; he wasn’t ever quiet now. His eyes were shut, making his face crease and contort, his teeth fletched, so the feeling of heat on his biceps was a surprise, and he yelped at it. It trickled closer to his armpit, and when it tickled, he shivered. A moan so throaty ripped through the room that you felt your clit throb, your stomach twist. And then Hyunjin sobbed, in frustration, or in pleasure, or due to sensations even deeper, emotions even greater. He sobbed, dryly, because he seemed overwhelmed of what else to do, and it made you kiss him. You bent down to peck his chest, to nibble at his collarbones. You kissed his neck, licked it, breathed in the scent of the vanilla candle there, of his sweat. You tickled his jaw with your breath, as hot as the wax, or hotter, felt him pant, felt him whine. You kissed his chin wetly, with an open mouth, leaving traces of you everywhere, traces of spit next to the traces of wax, a body traced in love. Because his body was made for it. To be loved, adored. To be destroyed and put back together.

It was when you kissed his lips, red and puffy and spit-laced and bruised, that you noticed the wet on his pink cheeks. The tears behind his glasses, past his eyes. You halted in your tracks.

“Babe, you okay?”

Eyes shooting open, and Hyunjin caught you off guard when he looked at you; eyes flooded with desire, with you. Bloodshot, reddened. Everything was red, you saw it everywhere on his body. And he nodded. Frantically. Desperately. You didn’t need to ask if he wanted you to stop, you could read it on his face that “Please, please, whatever you do, don’t stop. Never stop.”

So you pulled back again, a smirk tugging at your lips. And Hyunjin flushed when he saw it. You took hold of the candle again, hovered it over him. He watched it. The anticipation made the man suck in a breath, and his abdomen hallowed out. You let wax drip into the dip it created, liked the way it nestled there. As if it belonged there. As if he was made to be painted, to be pleased like this.

„Does it hurt, baby?“

A whine from his mouth, and the glasses on his nose sat so deep. He was sweating, wet all around, and the piece of metal just didn’t want to stay where it belonged. You liked it. Would never, not after half a year of being with him, get tired of the way he fixed them. Though he didn’t now. Now, his glasses where the last thing on his mind. Hyunjin shook his head, then he nodded. Then he shook it again. He couldn’t look at you. He was too shy to.

“N-no… yes. I- hmm… I don’t know- fuck-“

Fingers digging into the mattress, finding your flesh then, marking you with the tips of his fingers, with the sharp of his nails. Mindlessly, he was clinging onto you without knowing he was. Because he needed you. Because his body was calling for your own.

“Why are you crying, then?”

Another tear of his fell gen his temple just as you let another droplet of wax meet his skin; it was so close to his sex, tangling with his pubes as it trickled further down that you were sure it pained, but his reaction was heavenlier than anything you could have imagined; a cry of your name and he sobbed it, every syllable, every letter. More tears were rolling past his eyes. He was calling out to you, for salvation, for more, for less, for everything. And the muscles beneath his skin were trembling; you believed you could see it. He was vibrating, he was hot. He was red all around; his erection the most aggressive tone of them all, the white precum so pearly, so white in contrast. You wanted to lick it off.

“I- I don’t know. Because- fuck, ohh my god-“, heavy breathing, heaving chest. Hyunjin knew you better than leaving the question unanswered, though. Was too eager to leave a question simply hang in the air. “Because it feels so fucking good.” He didn’t look at you when he said it. He reddened deeper when he said it. The sweat on his forehead thickened when he said it.

“Yeah? Does it?”

He nodded, nodded and nodded so hard his glasses dared to fall off. He didn’t care. He continued nodding, until you chuckled. Then he looked at you. His eyes were so clear, so shot with pleasure. They were saying everything his mouth couldn’t, was shy to. You shivered in his gaze; how could a man so beautiful be so unaware of it?

“And because- because I’m so embarrassed.”

He whispered the words. He looked at you so intently; because he knew you’d ease him off. He was aware that his shame was futile, that it was never justified. And you knew that a part of him liked it. That sometimes, a man as smart as him enjoyed to turn dumbfounded in your hold. That the lack of thoughts, the struggle to find words when he was around you, reminded Hyunjin of the effect you had on him. It reminded him how much you liked it; when he started stuttering, when he forgot what he was talking about, when his only affections, his only obsession was you.

You chuckled, face smitten, lashes batting at him. He whimpered, bit the back of his hand when he felt the wax near his erection. It was so hard. And he was so close; if you didn’t touch him soon, he thought, he would come undone without any contact at all.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about feeling good, baby. You can let go when you’re with me. Don’t be shy about feeling good when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin thought this was his demise. His hell and heaven simultaneously, that it was in your hands he would die, in your hands he would be reborn again.

He pleaded you. Silently first, then with a trembling word; he needed you. He had never needed you more than now. He put his embarrassment to the side, took to heart what you always wished of him; to tell you what he wanted. To tell you what he needed.

“You, babe. I need you, I can’t, I- fuck, please, baby, please. I need to feel you, please.”

You had never heard him beg this way. Had never seen such lust in his eyes. You had never been so wet, not for him, not for anyone. He had the ability to break you, and he wasn’t even aware of it. Laying in the nude before you, traces of wax and spit and love on his body, and he didn’t even know you were as obsessed with him as he was with you.

Your panties and shirt were discarded quicker than either of you could look. You were hovering over him, and Hyunjin swore your pussy was hotter than the wax, than the fire burning it down. Before you sank down on him, he stopped you, numb fingers caressing your waist. He whined, writhed. He couldn’t look at you, he mumbled something. It wasn’t until you put a thumb on his chin and made Hyunjin look at you that he reddened, again, always reddening. He was breathing heavy when your eyes met. So heavy that you felt the warm condensation of it on your fingers. It was shaky, he was shaking.

“I’ll come. Like, right away. I’m already coming, I think.”

The confession knocked the breath out of your lungs. For someone so shy, so bashful about the slightest touch, the most innocent contact his words were always marked with an eroticism so great, so honest. No one had ever talked to you the way he talked to you; despite his shyness, despite his hesitations.

You assured him, kissed him, pecked his lips. They were hot, wet. They were dripping with his love for you.

And then you positioned yourself above him, and when you took hold of his base to guide him against you, when you felt him slide past your wetness and into you his hands dug into your flesh, so deep into your waist it hurt, but you didn’t mind it. It was his face you were focusing on; heavenly. As though he had found heaven. He was coming, hard, jolting his trembling hips against you; he was merely grinding against your pussy, against your clit, not much penetrating even, and yet he looked as though he had never felt a pleasure bigger than this. Eyes rolling back, violently. Lip bleeding between his teeth. Spit spewing when he cursed deeply, throaty. Sweat running down his temples, your waist because his palms coated you in it. In him. His scent, his wetness.

And you watched the red traces on his body. The pale colour on his cheeks, the feverish one on his lips. The deep, sensual one on his chest and stomach and abdomen, the bit on his biceps, the dried and flaked red wax. Only memories of it remaining when you’d wash it off later in the shower, when the morning sun would almost come out again. When you’d kiss him there later, after he’d come down, in the spots the wax had been, to soothe skin, to comfort him. And the wax would stand by his nightstand, proof and witness of the past hours, of Hyunjin’s desire, of your love.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @cherrrywon @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @astraystayyh

[lookingforuravity]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

♫ now playing - the only exception by paramore

bakugou x reader

word count: 1,827 words

IN WHICH each time your friends caught bakugou only being nice to you.

a/n: still 'fool for you' just changed the title (≧ω≦)

“i've never seen him so.. calm.”

“right? he's always so uptight.”

the two friends were peering over the couch as they watched bakugou and y/n sleep soundlessly. there was a serene look drawn on his face while he held y/n closely to him, her hand resting softly on his chest as their chests rose up and down simultaneously.

“how come he's so much nicer to her than any of us?” kirishima complained with a pout stitched on his lips. he'd been friends with bakugou way before (two months) him and y/n got together. where was his special treatment?

“they're dating duh. why wouldn't he be nice to her?” mina replied as gazed at the couple with a soft gaze in her eyes. their young, teenage love was truly admirable.

even if bakugou seemed to have a stick up his ass 24/7.

the couple twitched softly in their sleep. it had been a long and stressful day of endless amounts of training, and lord knew that they both needed a break. a thin blanket was all that covered their bodies, but anybody could make out the way bakugou held her waist and the way y/n laid her hand on his chest underneath the sheet.

the usually quiet library turned into a circus as it filled up with bakugou's grumbling, denki's whines, and y/n's giggling. the sight of bakugou repeatedly smacking denki on the head with rolled up paper was an entertaining sight to distract her from her note-taking.

“are you seriously this stupid?” bakugou growled as he peered over the blonde's notebook, erasing and scribbling over any mistakes he made. denki pouted while rubbing his head on the spot that bakugou smacked. “c'mon.. it's really not that easy!” denki whined.

bakugou's vermillion eyes narrowed at denki. “it's basic algebra! how did you even get this far if you can't do simple math?!” he snapped.

denki continued to pout as he grumbled under his breath, something about bakugou lacking basic respect.

“uh.. katsuki?” y/n called out hesitantly.

though he still kept the glare on his face, the way his body language softened was visible, and how his tone contrasted from denki to her was plain obvious. “what?”

she turned over her notebook towards him so he can see her work. “i think i did it wrong.. can you check it?”

bakugou grabbed her notebook and skimmed over her work. “yeah.. here, let me explain.” he leaned over closer to her, close enough to where she can smell caramel on his skin.

denki's mouth fell agape as he watched how the guy went from raising hell on him to looking like he was practically skipping in a field of flowers inside his head. “that is SO not fair! how come you're so much nicer to her than me?!”

“cause she's not an idiot! keep working!”

it was far past midnight, and it was already one thing that izuku couldn't sleep, but on an empty stomach? it made it far much worse. he tried everything in the book from counting sheep to counting his breaths, but nothing could beat his racing mind and the sound of his stomach growling.

izuku didn't want to disturb anyone, but would it really hurt if he just tip-toed to the common room? he sighed as he ran his hand through his curly green hair, quietly making his way to the kitchen to not wake anyone.

but as he walked through the common room, a taller figure appeared in front of him.

“GAH!” he yelped, hastily smacking a hand over his mouth as he realized how loud he'd screamed. “shoto!” he half-whispered. “what are you doing?!”

todoroki stood still, his expression unwavering. “i couldn't sleep.” his direction turned towards the kitchen. “i wanted to get a snack, but i think someone is in there.” he said.

that's odd. it was almost one in the morning, and the only people that izuku thought could be awake fell asleep ages ago. he asked todoroki who it was but he only shrugged, showing he only heard the person but never checked who it was.

he never thought he'd be met with the sight of bakugou resting his chin on y/n's shoulder as she made them snacks.

“at 12:47 in the morning? that's way past bakugou's bedtime…” todoroki muttered under his breath.

bakugou's tone was softer, softer than anyone had ever heard besides y/n herself. “you better not burn it.” he huffed.

y/n giggled, slightly turning her head to face his side profile. “i'm not going to burn our snacks,” she assured. “i'm an expert.”

“expert my ass.”

“hey!”

izuku and todoroki looked like a deer in headlights looking at the scene before them. they wanted to walk away, believe them, they really did. but the sight of bakugou being so domestic was such a rare and amusing sight to see.

“do we… leave?” izuku suggested.

“i don't know…” todoroki answered. “this is really weird.”

bakugou’s head shot up from her shoulder and turned to look at the two voices faster than the speed of light. his ruby eyes were narrowed as he glared them down as his lips curled. “the hell are you guys doing?”

izuku's hands flapped around in a panic. “w-we were just about to leave! i swear-”

“you're very affectionate, bakugou” todoroki said, as blunt as ever.

“shut up!” he yelled, his face turning as a red as a tomato and his hair puffed up. y/n giggled once again at the dramatic scene that laid in front of her. “do you guys want snacks too?” she offered.

“why are you giving our food to extras?” “suki!”

brutal wasn't even the word to describe today's training session. everyone was curled up on the ground, hands over their stomach as it even hurt to breathe. the sounds that filled the room were heavy breathing and complaints. and y/n— was nowhere to be found.

mina, jirou, and ochaco all wandered the hallways, a worried look etched on their face as they searched for their friend. “i'm really worried about her y'know.” mina was the first one to break the silence.

both girls nodded in agreement.

“so am i,” ochaco said. “she just disappeared right after training ended.”

the trio kept wandering the halls, looking in every corner and every turn where y/n could be hiding.

suddenly, through the glass window, they see their little y/c haired friend sitting on the bench, with her fingers intertwined on her lap and her head hung low.

“there she is!” jirou yelled, quickly running to the nearest door to go outside and get y/n while the other two girls trailed closely behind her.

but something made them stop dead in their tracks. the closer they got to the window, the more they were able to see someone elses silhouette sat next to her.

“is that bakugou?”

bakugou's arm was wrapped securely around y/n's shoulders, intently listening to her rambling about whatever she needed to get off her chest.

“i did really bad today.” she mumbled, her voice filled with sadness and frustration.

“and that’s okay.” bakugou comforted her. “one bad doesn't mean you suck. everyone has bad days.” he reassured her, rubbing light circles on her shoulders.

y/n shrugged, playing and picking at her fingers as they rested on her lap. “i just think i’m weak, y’know?” she mumbled once again.

“you're not- hey. look at me.” bakugou squished her cheeks and turned her head to face his. “stop. you think i'd be talking to you like this if you're so weak? hm?”

“no?” she muffled due to how much bakugou was squishing her face.

“exactly. you're strong, so stop putting yourself down because of one off day and keep training.”

“you're hurting my cheeks.”

bakugou let go of her face, lightly patting her cheeks as an apology. “my point is, one bad day doesn't mean you're weak. think about every other time you've kicked ass.”

y/n laughed softly, her face changing from what looked like a kicked puppy to her usual grin. “thank you suki.” she said.

“this is the cutest thing I've ever seen.” mina whispered while clenching her shirt where her heart is tightly.

“who knew the pomeranian could be such a romantic?” jirou teased as ochaco and mina giggled along side of her.

bakugou lightly ruffled the top of y/n's hair, lightly blushing from the way she looked at him with such a lovestruck glance. “you're strong. don't start with that ‘i'm weak’ shit cause i won't hear it.”

“you're so sweet when you want to be.”

“now you're pushing it.”

“why are you only nice to me?” the question caught katsuki off guard.

the couple had been in y/n's dorm room simply sitting in silence, with their legs entangled together and the light noise of the TV playing in the background.

he turned his head slightly to face her, their eyes meeting instantly as she was already looking at him so softly. “why wouldn't i be?” katsuki questioned as his fingers lightly played with her hair.

y/n shrugged, not having a response to his question. it just seemed out-of-character for him. he was the type of person to not let anyone change him, good or bad.

but the crude boy would come to be a puddle of sap when it came to her. even if it wasn't obvious verbally, the ways his eyes softened when they laid upon her was enough said.

“i asked you a question first.” she retorted.

katsuki exhaled sharply, his gaze turning from her to the ceiling as his heart rate sped up a bit. “you're just.. different.”

y/n's eyebrows raised slightly as a smirk stitched itself onto her face. she scooted closer to katsuki's side, leaning her head on his bicep as she stared lovingly at his side profile. “i'm.. different? there's more to that, isn't there?”

“of course there is. you just don't get to know that stuff right now.”

y/n knew that katsuki wasn't one to talk about his feelings. she wasn't looking to change that. but the simple thought of him just looking at her differently from the rest, like shes the only person in every room, made her heart flutter.

“don't think i'm getting soft though.” katsuki grumbled, an arm slipping around her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.

“you're just… the only exception.”

©LOOKINGFORURAVITY 2024 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other

TAGLIST: @kaerotica @sweetlike-sugarplum @misfortvne @iridescencefae @awesomesauce-oo @kalulakunundrum

[maskedbyghost]

Simon knew marriage came with adjustments, but nothing could have prepared him for life with a writer.

It wasn’t just the weird questions—though there were plenty of those—it was the way your mind never seemed to slow down. You’d be doing something completely normal, like folding laundry, and suddenly stop, eyes going distant.

He’d barely have time to ask what was wrong before you’d rush off to scribble something down, muttering about plot twists and character arcs.

Sometimes, he’d wake up in the middle of the night to find you sitting up in bed, phone screen lighting up your face as you frantically typed notes because “this idea can’t wait until morning.”

It meant half-finished coffee cups scattered around the house, abandoned when inspiration hit.

It meant narrating your own actions under your breath, like “she sighed, stretching her arms above her head” while actually doing it, which always made him raise an eyebrow.

And then there were the moments that made him question everything, like when you casually asked if he thought someone could realistically survive being shot twice in the chest or how long a body would take to decompose in a swamp. He used to answer with concern. Now, he barely looked up. “For a book?” “For a book.”

At first, he thought the strangest part was the research, but then he realized it was how easily you pulled him into it. You used him for everything—testing out fight scenes by making him grab your wrist so you could figure out how a character would escape, running your hands over his shoulders and down his arms as you mumbled about muscle structure and “what kind of build do you think my main guy should have?”

You studied him constantly, stealing phrases he said, describing his expressions in your notes, even admitting once that a few of your male characters had a bit of his attitude.

And then there was the way you used him for other inspiration. He figured it out one evening when he saw you sitting on the couch, staring at him with that look—one that usually meant you had something on your mind, but this time, you weren’t saying anything. Just watching.

He glanced over from where he was cleaning his gun. “What?”

You didn’t answer right away, just tilted your head slightly. “I think I want to write a new scene.”

He raised his brow, setting his things aside. “What kind of scene?”

A small smile played on your lips as you stood, walking toward him. “Something a bit messy.”

Simon leaned back, arms resting lazily on the couch as he looked you up and down. “You need details, then?”

“Mhm.” You straddled his lap, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. “Need to get it just right.”

He smirked, his hands settling on your waist. “That why you’re lookin’ at me like I’m about to be put to work?”

“You don’t mind a little hard work, do you?” you teased, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

His grip tightened, voice low. “Not if you’re gonna make it worth my while.”

Much later, when you were tangled in the sheets, catching your breath, you rolled over and reached for your phone. Before you could even unlock it, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against Simon’s chest. “Nope,” he muttered against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I just had a thought—”

“Don’t care.” His voice was warm and heavy with sleep. “Whatever you’re about to write down, you can remember it in the morning.”

“But—”

A hand slid down your hip, fingers pressing into your skin in a way that made you shiver. “I said, in the morning,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. Then, just to make sure you listened, he added, “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

Your entire body heated at the words, your brain short-circuiting for a second before snapping into overdrive. Without a word, you bolted upright, nearly diving for your phone as you started typing furiously.

Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you serious?”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, fingers flying across the screen. “This is really good.”

-------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Eye Candy 🍬

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Jason Todd × chubby/curvy!reader

FINALLY. I've been wanting to get this out for forever but shit kinda hit the fan and I'm also sick right now lol

This is pure comedy. So much fun to write!! This is for all my thick girlies <3

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Jason wants you to meet his brother (Dick) and his best friend (Roy). As if that wasn't enough of a bomb, doubt starts to creep into your mind at the realization that your curves would make you stand out like a sore thumb in the Wayne family. Jason proves you wrong by taking you to a bar and letting Dick and Roy walk right into a trap.

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"You want me to what?"

"Hey, it's not that big of a deal-... yeah, no, it's... it's a big deal." Jason winced, brows furrowing while he flexed his hands around his mug.

Coffee- of course it was, though it was far too late in the day for even more caffeine, or so you'd scolded him once again.

You were staring at him, slack jawed, eyes widened just slightly as a brief huff of disbelief left your lips.

"Jay, you just told me you want me to meet your family. In what world is that not a big deal?!" You exclaimed, your tone a little more screeching than you'd liked.

He sighed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly, his eyes turned away as a frown etched itself onto his features.

"It's just Roy and Dick, s'not really meeting my family." He mumbled, toying with the handle of his cup, scratching his nails against the ceramic.

"Look, you don't have to, alright? I just thought-... I guess I don't really know what I thought."

Your heart ached. You've never seen him so defeated. So utterly downtrodden. His back slouched, head hung low while his gaze was focused on anything but you.

That heartbreaking glimmer in his eyes that never failed to make your own water.

Gently, you pried the mug from his grip and set it aside, taking his hands in yours.

The action made Jason avert his attention back to you, looking like a kicked puppy.

"I do want to meet them. I really, really do. Because they are your family, whether you want to admit it or not." You smiled softly, watching as he lit up immediately, a huff of relief making his chest feel lighter.

"I'm just nervous. And worried, I suppose? What they'll think, you know. I'm sure that I'm not exactly what they imagine when they think of your girlfriend." You chuckled nervously.

Jason, on the other hand, looked confused. Eyes narrowed, You-can-see-the-gears-turning-but-nothing-is-happening confused.

"What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You cackled at the expression on his face and the goofy tone of his voice.

"Okay, let me put it like this. You're family is a bunch of buff, unfairly jacked and lean super geniuses. Not to mention how good the girls look. And Kori? She's a literal space princess! I just feel like I don't quite fit in. Can you imagine someone like me at one of those Galas? They would lose their minds-"

"'Someone like you? You mean a gorgeous, beautiful, stunning plump lady with a brain so big I sometimes wonder how your neck is still intact? You mean someone like that? Because we could use more of that, trust me." He chuckled dryly.

"Also, you're hot as fuck." He deadpanned, blankly staring at you.

You playfully rolled your eyes, tracing the space between his knuckles.

"A. I know, B. you're biased. I mean, they all probably expect you to date some super model." You explained, sighing.

You knew your worth. You knew that you were beautiful and perfect just they way you are, even beginning to love yourself.

But when challenged with a family full of hotties like the Wayne's plus Gotham's elite, it was hard not to feel just a little out of place with all your curves, bumps and pudge.

Jason's lips were pressed together in a thin line before he inhaled sharply and pinned you down with his gaze.

"Alright, first of all, they have no expectation of who I'd date because I was fuckin' dead, and when I came back my only interest was revenge and smashing peoples heads in. If anything they thought I would die alone."

The bluntness of his words and the expecting raise in his brows had you shell shocked, and pleasantly surprised.

"You're making problems for yourself that don't exist, ladybird." His tone turned soft as did his eyes, enveloping your heart in a blanket of warmth.

"So, respectfully, you don't have a point." He concluded for you, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied noise.

"Huh, I guess I don't." You breathed out, a smile spreading on your face while Jason already sported a wicked grin.

"There ya go. Now, can I brag about my hot, smart and curvaceous girlfriend to my dickhead brother and loser best friend? Because, sweetheart, you're one hell of a woman." He smirked, leaning in to get you all hot and bothered by his proximity.

You bit your lip, trying to act unaffected by his antics.

"Okay, fine," You groaned, feigning annoyance, "But only because I love you." You finished, failing to hide the smile on your face.

In one swift motion, Jason grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, your back pressed firmly to his chest. You let out a startled noise that morphed into a laugh.

"See? Just had to butter you up a bit, pretty girl." He nosed at your neck, a grin showing off his pearly whites while his arms were snaked around your middle.

"What can I say? You have a way with words." You smirked, looking back at him over your shoulder.

Jason chuckled and turned you in his lap, making you face him.

"I do have a very skilled tongue, as you know." He winked at you, kneading the fat of your hips in his hands.

You groaned and rolled your eyes before grinning and pinching his cheek.

"So, you up for tomorrow? It'll just be at a shitty bar somewhere. They won't judge you, I promise. And if they do, they can take it up with Fuck-" Jason raised one arm and flexed his bicep, "and You." With a wide smile, he lifted his other arm, and you watched as his muscles practically inflated.

You giggled, squeezing his arm with an approving nod of your head.

"I'll be there. I just have some errands to run, so I'll meet you at the place, yeah?" You replied sweetly, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Jason's face scrunched up at your kiss, making him look like an adorable little bunny.

"Sounds good, ladybird." He replied, smiling.

There was something hiding beneath that smile, though. Something sinister. Mischievous. You squinted your eyes at him.

"... What are you up to?" You asked suspiciously, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Who? Me? I'm not up to anything." He replied sweetly, batting his lashes at you.

"Mhm." You hummed, searching for a hint in his teal eyes.

You could see his resolve cracking, his gaze breaking from your for just a split second. You continued to stare at him. Jason cleared his throat and gave you a tight smile before striking.

Quickly, he pushed you off his lap, making you stumble to the floor of your living room on shaky legs before he lowered himself to the ground, hooking one arm around your knees and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

You screeched, digging your hands into his hoodie so you wouldn't fall.

"What the fuck! What are you doing?!" You screamed, cracking into a smile when you heard Jason cackle mischievously.

He moved quickly, rounding the couch and any obstacles with ease.

"Well, you see, I've been stumblin' over my words all day. Care to help me loosen up my tongue at bit, doll?" He grinned, hurrying to your bedroom.

"Jason!-"

Your voice burst with a laugh before you were interrupted by a loud crack when his hand met the back of your thigh.

You gasped, quickly followed by a slap against his clothed back.

"Remember that name, angel. I have a feeling you'll be using it a lot tonight."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"So, she coming?" Roy asked curiously, settling back into the deep-set lounge with his drink.

The redhead was seated in the middle, between the brothers, earning a shove and an annoyed eyeroll from Jason.

Dick snickered, taking a sip of his beverage.

"Why are you so obsessed with my girl, dude?"

"We just wanna make sure she's real. I'd hate to break you out of Arkham again, little wing." Dick grinned from behind the rim of his glass.

"Wow." Roy clicked his tongue, nodding along to the diabolical comment.

Jason only stared at his brother blankly, blinking once, then twice.

"Too far?" Dick asked, wincing slightly.

"Whaddya think, dickhead?" Roy sighed sharply.

"You should be so glad that I'm in therapy. Otherwise I woulda wiped the floor with you right now." Jason mumbled, taking a swig of his drink.

"It's the Piña Coladas talking." His brother chuckled awkwardly.

Jason just snorted, leaning against the soft cushions.

"To answer your question, yes, she's coming." Roy lit up, excitedly setting his beer down on the table.

"Really? So we get to meet the fabled ladybird, huh?" The redhead grinned, bumping his shoulder with Jason's.

He only shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes at Roy.

"Why didn't she come with you, then?" Dick asked, brows furrowed.

"Had to stop by the craft store." Jason replied simply, finishing his drink.

"Oh, so it's like that? You really did get yourself a pretty little thing, didn't you?" Dick smirked, watching as Jason chuckled in response.

"Dickhead's right. They not only make pieces of art, they are ones." Roy agreed.

Dick scoffed at the nickname.

"She's pretty alright. Looks like she belongs in the Louvre." Jason responded with a smile, then immediately regretting that decision when Roy and Dick began to look like the cheshire cat.

"Ooooo, Jay's in looooove." Roy teased with a chuckle.

"Did little wing find an even litteler wing? That's adorable." Duck sniffled, wiping a faux tear from his lashline.

Jason grumbled in response, flipping them off.

"At least I didn't cheat on my girl." He mumbled sharply, hiding behind his second -or third?- glass of the night.

Dick's smile fell and he was reduced to a muttering mess, pouting like a child.

"God, you guys are actual children. Can I have one night-"

they both glanced at Roy when he stopped speaking, his lips parted as he stared at the entrance of the bar.

"You're lettin' flies in, carrot top." Jason said blankly.

Roy let out a low whistle, loosely gesturing to the bar before a smirk cracked on his face.

"Look at that piece of Eye Candy over there."

Dick followed his line of sight.

"Fuck me." He cursed, eyes wide.

"Look at those hips, jesus-"

"Now that's a woman."

Jason was mid sip, uninterested in this mystery woman ordering a drink at the bar. But, he glanced up anyway, only to choke on his drink when his eyes landed on you.

He sputtered, coughing as he felt the alcohol go up his nose.

"Woah, she got you good, didn't she?" Roy teased with a laugh, patting his back.

"Yep.." Jason croaked out, holding back a laugh.

"I'm telling ladybird." Dick said quickly.

Snitch.

"When will she be here anyway? It's been a while." He questioned, pulling up his sleeve to take a look at his watch.

"Soon, soon.." Jason replied, clearing his throat.

"Man, she could sit on me, and I'd thank her. And that rack-"

Roy continued letting his eyes trail over your body.

As amusing as Jason found this little misunderstanding, he couldn't help but grind his teeth and clench his fists.

Meanwhile, Dick delivered a slap to the back of Roy's head.

"Pervert! You don't talk about women like that." He scolded the redhead.

"Says you! As if you don't wanna be suffocated by those thighs or-or knock out on that tummy, I know you do!" Roy said sharply, pointing an accusing finger at Dick.

"Of course I do, but I didn't say it out loud, now did I?" He replied in a condescending tone.

"You fucking-"

"Oh, look, she's approaching us." Jason said nonchalantly, leaning back into the cushions with a grin, watching as the petty bickering between his brother and best friend stopped immediately.

"I call dibs! I saw her first." Roy said quickly, straightening his posture and trying to look unbothered while you approached.

"God fucking dammit." Dick cursed, being left to grumble with his Piña Colada.

He looked at Jason, who was comfortably leaned back with a smirk.

"How are you so chill about this?!" Dick asked irritated.

"You'll see." Jason grinned.

You walked towards them with a smile, the drink you'd just ordered at the bar in your hand. Roy put up his most charming face and quickly cleared his throat.

"Hello there, sweethea-"

his entire face dropped when you placed a hand on Jason's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.

"Hi, baby." You greeted sweetly.

"Hey there, ladybird." Jason grinned, glancing at Roy and Dick.

The redheads jaw was on the floor, speechless while his gaze flitted between you and his best friend. Dick was just as shocked, but quickly broke out of it.

"THAT’S LADYBIRD?!" He yelled, earning harsh stares from other guests.

Dick quieted down with an apologetic smile and leaned closer to Jason.

"You fucking asshole! Why didn't you do anything? You let us say all those things-" at the realization Dick went pale.

"He's gonna beat our asses." Roy mumbled, still staring at you and Jason.

"... Fuck."

You just stood there dumbfounded while Jason had a grin on his face that made a shiver run down Roy's spine.

"What things?" You asked, you brows furrowed in confusion.

Jason pulled you into his lap, resting one of his hands on your thigh.

"Don't worry about it, angel." He said softly, pecking your cheek.

"How the hell did you end with such a charity case as Jason?" Roy asked bluntly, slumped in his seat, defeated.

"Excuse me?" You sputtered with a scoff.

"That's a lot of nerve coming from someone looking like an affair baby." You shot back.

Dick burst out laughing, Jason cackling along side him while Roy only stared at you.

"And she's feisty? Fuuuuuuck.." He whined.

"Nice to meet you, ladybird." Dick gave you a friendly smile and nod, still wiping the tears from his eyes.

You returned the smile before leaning in to whisper into Jason's ear.

"Is the rest of your family also like this?"

"Like what?"

"Loudmouth assholes." You replied, staring straight at Roy who looked like you just slapped his mother.

Jason laughed, throwing his head back when he saw Roy's face.

"Ah, no. Some of them are quiet assholes."

Dick scoffed, immediately defending himself and his siblings with big hand gestures.

You chuckled as you watched.

"Don't be sad, carrot top," Jason began, giving Roy's shoulder a squeeze, "You couldn't handle her if you tried."

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Jason loves fat girls. Argue with the wall <3

Let me know what you think! 😚🩷

More of Jason and others -> 💫

《DC Taglist》: @allysunny @arkhamknightscxnt @gaozorous-rex-blog @hellonhells-x

Comment to be added 🐝🫧

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[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello Dorito!

Can you please write Bruce, Dick, Jason and Clark receiving a good luck kiss on the cheek from their crush before they go on a mission? I’m curious how they would individually react and what their thoughts would be. I thought it would be cute if it was pre relationship for some reason (*'ω'*)

Dick

The moment you kiss his cheek, dick just smiles softly.

‘What was that for?’ He’d ask, his thoughts going a mile a minute as to what this all meant in the long run of your relationships as he knew damn well friends didn’t kiss each other on the cheek…well unless they were close like that, but Dick typically knew it wasn’t and wanted answers before he left for the mission.

‘Good luck?’ You shrug.

‘Just good luck?’ Dick would tease, but on the inside he was hop in that this was going where he was thinking it was going, hoping he wasn’t reading anything you were putting down wrong as he didn’t want anything to be misconstrued or misinterpreted. He wanted this moment for so long and wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to having something worth coming home to; or someone worth coming home to after a long and intense mission.

Dick would look like he was confident and whatnot but on the inside he was more happier then he’s ever been in his entire life. He wanted to shout to the rooftops that he had been kissed on the cheek by the person he liked, but instead decided to play it cool and try to work his charisma into his favour with you in hopes of a date. He’s done being coy and dropping hints, the kiss on the cheek had to mean something to you as it did with him.

Jason

Blinks several times as his brain tries to accept that you did just kiss him on the cheek.

He reaches up to touch the cheek you kissed lightly as his insides were waging war with one another, he was glad that you made a move first as now Jason knew you had some liking towards him, especially if you were willing to go out of your way to kiss his cheek before he leaves for a mission.

This felt like something he had read out of many, many, many books that he never thought he himself would ever experience in his lifetime, and yet here he was being kissed on the cheek by the person who he had a raging crush on that felt like it came straight out of a movie. He’s aware of his crush on you, insanely so, but when you kissed his cheek he didn’t know whether it was with platonic or romantic intentions.

Jason wanted so badly for it to be romantic, his heart yearned for it like he yearned for you as long as he had, trying not to show just how he melted like putty in your touches and general affection towards him. Other people try to touch him and he hisses at them, but you? You could hold his cheeks and he’d be fighting to need to close his eyes and melt into your hands, feeling safe enough within your presence to do so then he ever had anyone else in a long, long time.

He knew he was fucked the moment he realised that he didn’t want to push you away but pull you in close. Jason knew he was fucked but in that moment he didn’t care because a life of love with you was a risk he was willing to to take, after all he was deserving of a sweeter aspect of life then the one he was already given.

Clark

Feels his cheeks burn as he rubs the back of his head, the feel of your lips still very much lingering on his skin.

The kiss was soft, it was sweet and innocent but it was enough to have Clark becoming a little flustered and a bit sheepish in looking you in the eye, but he managed to do so and it was obvious by the look in his eyes that it was something that would affect his mind for a long while; even when you were long from view you’ll still be in the forefront in his mind.

His voice was caught in his throat but his mind was filled to the brim with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t, for as soon as you kissed his cheek and wishing him luck, you were already out of his line of sight with a knowing smile graced upon your lips upon your exit.

Clark knew that he’d have to have some words with you when he gets back, but until then he could only assume that you were both on the same page without having to speak words to one another, the attraction was clear but would need to be communicated clearly sooner or later.

Clark could only hope he wasn’t the only one feeling something between the two of you, he was hopeful that he wasn’t when you placed your hand on the s symbol on his chest and looked at him the way you did.

Bruce

Doesn’t show much change visibly but his eyes do shine in amusement and his posture seemed to straighten a little more, only the keenest of eyes would’ve seen that he had also leant into your lips when you kissed his cheek.

Bruce prided himself in being a well put together man, but the moment you kissed his cheek that collapsed in on itself, and he was left wanting nothing more then to ask for another kiss and so he did with a hint of mischief upon his tongue.

‘Do I get another one?’ He asks you.

You only shrug. ‘Only if you come back in one piece then you can have as many cheek kisses as you’d like.’

He may have made an entire playboy persona for public outings and such, but in that moment he felt like a teenager with their first crush again, wanting nothing more then to ask Alfred if engaging in a relationship with you was worth the risks. He is a smart man and knew what he wants and yet while he knew what he wanted, he couldn’t claim to know what you want and didn’t want to assume on your behalf when you didn’t say anything of substance.

Bruce knew that something was different between the two of you -outside of him having a crush on you of course- and knew that once he gets back to Gotham he’ll have to strike while he still could in hopes that you’d allow him to treat you right, and allow him to spoil you rotten once in a while, and keep you safe should you all him to have your heart by taking you on a date to your favourite place.

[dollyfiles]

rafe cameron knows that it isn’t just LUST he feels for you

cw: mutual attraction, forbidden love, emotional betrayal, angst, inspired by the song “lust” by chase atlantic.. & for my sweet girl @vampteeths <33

the humid night air clung to like rafe a second skin as he leaned against the porch railing of tannyhill, eyes fixed on the distant shoreline. the party inside was roaring—a mix of drunken laughter, loud music, and the occasional sound of bottles clinking. his friends were there, drowning in excess, but rafe had slipped outside a while ago, needing to breathe.

the drugs numbed him most nights, but tonight, he felt restless. there was something clawing at his chest, something he couldn’t ignore. and then, as if the universe wanted to punish him, the person who haunted his thoughts, stepped outside.

you. he didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. he could always feel you before he saw you.

he had no idea when it started—this pull you had on him. maybe it was the night topper introduced you to the group, laughing and draping his arm over your shoulders like you were just another accessory. at first, rafe thought you were like every other girl that hung around—beautiful, fun, disposable.

but then you smiled at him, said his name like it mattered, like he mattered. and something inside him cracked. it wasn’t like the rush he got from a pill dissolving on his tongue or the high of a line burning through his veins. it was different. he didn’t crave you in a way he did with other girls. you were different. he just liked you.

and that terrified him.

“rafe,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the thick night air.

he didn’t dare to look at you right away. he couldn’t. he was afraid of what might show on his face if he did. instead, he focused on the waves crashing in the distance. “shouldn’t you be inside with top?” he asked, his tone carefully detached, though the words felt like poison in his mouth.

you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cool breeze. “just don’t feel like it.”

finally, he looked at you. your eyes met his, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. it always did when you looked at him like that, like you could see all the dark corners of his soul and weren’t afraid of them.

you were wearing one of those simple dresses you always seemed to favor, the kind that made you look effortlessly put together. your hair was loose, framing your face, and in the dim light of the porch, you looked almost ethereal.

“you’ve been quiet lately,” you said. your voice was gentle, but there was a weight to your words, like you knew he’d been spiraling. you stepped closer, and rafe’s entire body tensed. he wanted to tell you to stop, to go back inside, to leave him alone. but he didn’t. he never could with you.

rafe laughed, a bitter sound echoing across the porch. “quite’s not really my thing, is it?”

“not really.” you tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did, like you could see right through him. it daunted him, but it also made him feel seen in a way he never had before. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

he hated how much your words got to him. hated how much he wanted to believe them. “why are you here, y/n?” he asked, his voice low.

you hesitated, both of you knew it was risky. you knew it every time you caught each others gaze from across the room, every time your conversations stretched too long, your moments together lingering on the edge of something dangerous.

but then you stepped closer, so close that he could smell the faint hint of your sweet perfume. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “but i couldn’t stay in there. not with him. not tonight.”

your words hung in the air between the two of you, heavy with implication. rafe’s heart was pounding now, a hectic rhythm that matched the chaos in his head.

“this is wrong,” he said, but even as he said it, he didn’t move away. “i know,” you whispered, gaze dropping to the ground, and for a moment, you looked so vulnerable that it made his chest ache.

rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling just underneath the surface. “i’m not… i’m not good at this. at feeling things. at caring.”

you tilted your head, gaze soft but steady. “you care more than you let on, rafe. you just don’t want to admit it.”

your words settled over him like a weight, and for once, he didn’t push them away. because you were right. he did care. he cared too much, and it scared the hell out of him.

“do you know how messed up this is?” he said, his voice raw. “you’re with topper. he’s my friend. and you’re… you’re you.”

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“it means i shouldn’t feel this way,” he sighed, his voice breaking. “i shouldn’t look at you and feel like you’re the only thing keeping me from falling apart.”

you bit your lip, just standing there in silence while rafe watched you. he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge what you were both pretending wasn't happening. rafe wanted to reach for you, to pull you close and tell you that none of it mattered, that he’d walk away from everything if it meant he could keep this—keep you. but he couldn’t. because no matter how badly he wanted you, he knew he wasn’t allowed to have you.

“i don’t get it,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “why are you even here? why me?”

you inched forward, so much he could see the faint freckles on your skin, the curve of your lips. “because i see you, rafe,” you said simply. “and i think you’re worth seeing.”

something inside him shattered then. he’d spent so long chasing highs, trying to fill the void with pills and powders and girls who didn’t mean anything. but you didn’t have to do anything. just being near you was enough.

“I don’t even need… I mean, I don’t—” he stumbled over his words, unsure how to explain what he felt. your eyes softened, and for a moment, you looked like you might cry. but you didn’t. instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his cheek. it was the smallest touch, but it sent a shockwave through him.

rafe closed his eyes, simmering in your touch for a little while before softly grabbing your fragile wrist and putting it back, right next to your body. “you should go back inside,” he said finally, forcing the words out even though they felt like poison on his tongue.

you looked up at him, eyes shimmering with something he couldn’t quite name. for a moment, he thought you might argue, might tell him that you didn’t care about topper or the rules or how wrong it all was. but instead, you nodded.

“goodnight, rafe,” you said softly, your voice laced with a sadness that mirrored his own.

he watched you go, your figure disappearing into the glow of the party. and for the first time in a long time, rafe felt something other than numbness. it wasn’t comfort, exactly—it was too complicated, too messy for that—but it was something.

and as he stood there alone, staring out at the waves, he realized that you had become his new addiction. a dangerous one, maybe even more dangerous than the drugs. but unlike the pills and the powders, you made him feel alive.

tags: @vampteeths @rafesheaven @rafeysbangs @rafesbowbunny @rafesweetie @whinyangel @plaidcowboy @filthyrafe @figthoughts @littlelamy @fawnhart @rafesdollette @starzify @rafesangelita @cherrygirlfriend @ch6rm @inspiredangel @girlyrafe @rafespreciosa @gibson-g1rl @kissyrafe

[soleilapproves]

ex-convict!sukuna tries to talk to burnt out!reader about her feelings but she dismisses him. not proofread, sorry :(

prompt for more context

Anxiety lathered your back in cold sweat as you received your exam sheet from your TA, not bothering to look twice at your haphazard state before moving on to the next person.

You knew there was a reason why your paper was given to you faced down while your friend received hers with bright red numbers beaming up at her. You knew it was just your insecurity speaking to you, but it really did feel like the entire classroom of seventy-five people were staring at you. Even if your seat was all the way in the corner and Sukuna’s faded brown leather jacket basically cloaked you into invisibility.

You weren’t sure how you accidentally snagged it in the first place, all you remember was that you had slept with him the night before an important exam and rushed out with his jacket instead of your oversized hoodie that you sported for the Walk of Shame. It was the only thing comforting you at the moment. The familiar smell of nicotine and wet grass clouded your senses as you imagined him holding you close with his fingers stuffed in your cunt and his lips on your neck after yet another failure.

Just how many times were you going to go to him to comfort yourself? It was starting to become a habit that shaved you to your bones.

Your chest tightened as the ceiling got lower and lower to the point where you could feel the bright fluorescent lights burning the brittle hair on your scalp. The brick walls engulfed you till yours bones crunched and your muscles tightened.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed your worn denim satchel as you silently raced out the lecture hall, trembling like a fawn. Your boots splashed against the wet ground as you walked towards the back of the building and slid down on the wall while hugging yourself.

Your closed palm held your failure. Your crushed and creased exam sheet. A part of you wanted to grind it to nothing under your boots, but a part of you still had a sense of accountability so you shoved it in Sukuna’s jacket.

While fishing around in his pockets, you found two very interesting things—a leaf of acetaminophen tablets, and a pack of cigarettes. You knew he smoked with the way his jacket smelled but you’d never seen him do it. The leaf of tablets led you to believe that he must’ve been trying to quit.

You’d never been a smoker, always worried that you’d get addicted once you started, becoming a slave to the little white cylinder, but today was different. It was your last chance at passing the class. The last quiz you could get good grade on before failing the entire class even after giving the final.

You assumed he could always quit faster with one less cigarette in the box so you decided to look for a lighter and found one in his inner pocket.

“What the fuck are you doing?” A large, tattooed hand snatched the cigarette and lighter from your grasp. Sukuna stared at you like you’d betrayed him. You groaned to yourself as you rubbed a hand down your face. You’d forgotten you had texted him to pick you up after class.

This confrontation was of your own design.

“Smoking, what do you think? Give that back,” you got up and tried to snatch it away, but he had managed to grab the box from you as well and thrown it down on the ground, immediately crushing it with his boots.

“I can’t believe you’d destroy pricey cigarettes like that,” you quipped as you shrugged off his jacket, but he grabbed on to your shoulders, preventing you from doing so. “It’s cold.”

Of course, a man of few words when it finally came to talking about something than yourself. “Come on, I’ll drop you home,” his large hand grabbed yours as he briskly walked to his jeep that was parked nearby.

Like clockwork, you pulled him into a rough kiss as he got into the driver’s seat, but he pulled away, a string of saliva thinning into air as held you in place by your shoulders. “What’s wrong?” Your usual routine with him was very predictable—you’d call him to let out some stress, make out a little in his car once he’d come and get you, then go to his place.

Not once had he complained, except for a few instances where he’d insist on fucking you after making you come, not even bothering to ask you to return the favor; a strange occurrence for a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement. Especially with someone as rugged as him.

Usually jail would harden a man up, turn him into an insensitive boor, but it felt the opposite when he’d treat you rather gently: a hand on the small of your back as you’d try to get into his monstrous jeep, or checking in with you after you’d pass out as soon as he pulls out.

It was unexpected yet strangely welcoming.

“You look terrible,” he grimaces. Your cold sweat begins to dry up with the heat of your rage. “Wow. I know I’m not the hottest girl out there, but you really didn’t need to rub it in. I’m out.” He grabs your satchel before you can leave with it. It hangs between you both much like your relationship.

“Don’t get out. I didn’t mean it like that. You just… look really tired.”

You stare at him for a long time before you place your bag back in your lap. You stare ahead at the expanse of fir trees and grass as you lean back in your seat. “Since when did you care about any of that? Let’s just go to your place.”

“When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?” he asked as he started his car. He snatched your satchel and threw it in the backseat. A usual practice for him, although, it was you in the back with him while your bag sat in the front.

“Why are we even talking about this? You’re being weird.” Sukuna’s knuckles turn white at your comment, gripping the steering wheel harder. Your mind races about all the possible ways he could kill you right now. You never really argued with him because you were too afraid to see what he’d be like with his patience on its final thread.

However, you pushed that line today. He was over the edge. You could tell with the way his brows furrowed and his lips flattened ever so slightly. The jeep hadn’t picked up speed. Thank goodness for that.

“You’re in college. You need to take care of yourself,” he flatly said as he made a turn towards his apartment complex.

“Why do you care? You’re not my bo—“

There it was. The taboo word. He sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend, but he didn’t like the reminder of it either. Only replying to you in grunts and hums when you’d say it. And it wasn’t like you both were that talkative with each other in the first place.

“I’m just worried about you.”

Now he was crossing the line. A boundary you built with ever so shaky hands, so thin that you’d topple over to him if he’d show the least bit affection. You knew he wanted in. You could tell with the way he’d hold your face when his lips would slot themselves on yours. When you’d taste yourself on his tongue.

But you couldn’t let him. It wasn’t right. You’re both fucked up, albeit, in different degrees, but still very messed up with the things going on in your lives.

You did not want him to know what really went on in your mind. Never open the door for a stranger. Even if he knows all about how your body sings for him when he caresses your core.

“Stop the car.”

“What the fuck? We’re about to reach.”

“I said, stop the car. I’m gonna walk home.”

“It’s raining, at least let me drop you off.”

“Stop the car or I’ll jump out.”

You didn’t look back at Sukuna’s face as you walked away. Nor did you tell him that you’d see him later. You both knew he would. Your texts would always come in when you’d be feeling even lower than you presently were.

And then from Sukuna’s jacket (that you were still wearing), you took out a singular, slightly bent cigarette.

—

more ex-convict!sukuna fics

[puppym3]

felix x reader ─── just this once?

synopsis - you and felix, your best friend, are watching anime and cuddling on the couch together; and while there's nothing weird about that, why do you feel so weird when he reacts strangely to you playing with his hair?

wc: 4.5k

silly tags: MDNI! 18+, bsf!felix, afab!reader, maybe pining?, felix is a huge cuddler, other seven members exist but are nowhere to be seen, felix likes having his hair played with (me too), PT 1 (maybe pt 2?)

MDNI!! smut warnings under cut!!

WARNINGS: smut, masturbation (f + m), hair pulling, slight choking (not rough), they masturbate in front of each other, post-nut clarity, cum ingestion, reader likes noisy men!! (YES YOU)

Felix was the one you considered your best friend in the entire world, despite having seven other good friends. You and Felix just clicked. Maybe it was because he'd stay up playing video games with you, or make you late-night desserts even though you both agree you shouldn't be allowed to have snacks after 11 pm. Or maybe it was the fact that you found him the cutest out of the eight, making him the easiest to tease. (The insane cuteness aggression you get)

The apartment was unusually quiet today, the kind of silence that felt rare in a space usually filled with chaotic laughter, competitive yelling from game nights, or the general commotion of eight boys who all somehow coexisted without killing each other. But tonight, it was just you and Felix, sprawled on the couch, tangled in a way you both swore no one else would ever find out about.

Somehow, you were always falling for Felix's lures, agreeing to the "no telling" pact after Felix hit you with those wide, pleading eyes. It was unfair, honestly. A weaponized look that had no business being as effective as it was.

“Just this once,” you had muttered at the time, already knowing you were lying. It was never just once with Felix.

And now, here you were; his head resting on your chest, your fingers weaving lazily through the soft strands of his black hair. His eyes were half-lidded but determinedly focused on the anime playing in front of you, though he was obviously on the verge of dozing off. His long, delicate fingers absentmindedly traced light patterns along your arm, the subtle scratching oddly soothing.

“Don't fall asleep, Lix," you teased quietly, though the warmth of your voice lacked any real scolding. "You're gonna miss the three episodes of filler!”

“M’not,” he mumbled, voice heavy with exhaustion. But the way his body melted further into yours suggested otherwise.

A soft laugh escaped you. “Sure, sure. Just resting your eyes, hm?”

Felix hummed in contentment, clearly too comfortable to argue. "You’re a good... head massager," he admitted with a lazy grin, though it quickly faded into something softer as he shifted his head slightly, nuzzling closer without a care.

You knew this was dangerous territory, the kind of scene the other boys would never let either of you live down. Hyunjin would tease Felix mercilessly for his "puppy syndrome," and Chan would probably lose it at the idea that you of all people caved to cuddling. No, this would definitely remain a secret.

Your fingers slid into his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp as Felix let out a soft, pleased hum. It was barely a sound, but the scratch of his voice sent a strange flutter through your chest, one you couldn’t quite place. He shifted slightly against you, his body curling closer as if he were trying to burrow into your warmth.

"That feels so good," he murmured, his voice low and sleepy. Another noise escaped him; a quiet, deep sound of contentment that shouldn’t have meant anything but, for some reason, made the air feel a little heavier. You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse picked up. It was just Felix. Your best friend. Nothing weird about this.

But as his quiet little noises continued, your hands faltered. The sound; it wasn’t wrong, exactly, but it felt… intimate in a way you weren’t used to, like you were overhearing something private. You hesitated, your fingers slowing to a stop as you tried to collect yourself.

Felix stirred, a small whine escaping him as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Why’d you stop?” he mumbled, the tiniest pout forming on his lips. “It was nice.”

You laughed nervously, your hand hovering above his head. “I don’t know. Just… thought you were about to fall asleep.”

“I wasn’t.” He yawned, completely ruining his point, before nudging his head against your chest again. “Please? Just a little more?” His voice was so soft, so innocent, that you felt ridiculous for overthinking it.

Still, when you started again, something about it felt different. His little hums of satisfaction grew deeper, quieter, like they were traveling straight to your core and wrapping themselves around your nerves. It heightened your awareness of everything; the warmth of his body against yours, the weight of his head on your chest, the way his hand idly traced your arm.

You swallowed hard and quickly adjusted, opting to rake your fingers through his hair instead. It felt safer somehow, less intimate than the slow, deliberate scratches. Felix didn’t seem to mind, his eyes fluttering shut again as he relaxed fully against you.

“Better?” you asked softly, hoping your voice sounded steadier than you felt.

“Mhm,” he murmured, his lips tugging into a small, sleepy smile. “You’re the best.”

Your stomach flipped, and you had to bite back a groan. This was Felix. Just Felix. So why did you like these sounds so much? Why did you want so badly to tug on his hair to see what sound he'd make? You couldn't boil this down to just 'cuteness aggression', it sounded way too perverted in your head to be left at that.

You could only blame your curiosity, the sudden urge to explore what other sounds you could get out of him. Would he whine if you pulled his hair a bit harder? Would he moan if you lightly dragged your nails across the sensitive spot on his head? The thoughts raced through your mind, a whirlwind of possibilities that shouldn’t have been so exciting, yet they were.

You clenched your jaw, willing the thoughts away as shame crawled up your neck. Your hands stilled in his hair, fingers frozen mid-motion. You needed to stop before your imagination ran even wilder.

Felix's body tensed against yours, his head shifting slightly as he let out a pitiful whine. “Nooo,” he protested softly, his voice coated in drowsy frustration. His sleepy eyes blinked open, glassy and pleading. “Don’t stop,” he begged, barely above a whisper. “Please? Feels nice...”

That voice, low and soft, made your already frayed nerves snap. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, the way your breath caught at how needy he sounded. But it only got worse when he used those eyes again, wide and shimmering with earnest desperation, pulling at you in ways that felt dangerous.

You should have ignored him. You should have laughed it off and told him to watch the show. But you didn’t. Instead, your fingers clenched reflexively, twisting gently into his hair without thinking.

Felix gasped softly, his body jerking slightly at the sudden tug. A quiet, breathy sound slipped from his lips, half a moan, half a whimper; and it undid you. Your pulse raced, heat flaring in your chest and spreading like wildfire as you struggled to keep your composure.

Felix’s eyes widened, the sleepy haze lifting just enough for curiosity to spark in their depths. His lips parted slightly as if processing the situation in slow motion, the sharp tug, your face burning up, the way your breathing had quickened ever so subtly.

A sudden realization flickered across his expression, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The anime played in the background, completely forgotten now.

"Did- did you like that??"

Fuck.

He caught on.

You didn't know what to say, your mouth opening and closing several times.

"You...you did," he whispered, more a statement than a question, his voice thick with disbelief.

"Lix-" you started, not sure where to go.

"Do it again," he urged, his eyes settling on your face, his soft hands reaching up to rest on your shoulders .

"Again??" You squeaked, feeling embarrassed at how turned on you were getting.

"Please, just..." he bit his lip, and oh god, that wasn't helping at all. "...please."

Felix was your best friend, but you like the sounds of his voice and his little moans a little too much to risk it.

The embarrassment burned under your skin, but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him no. Slowly, cautiously, you curled your fingers into his hair, the same way you'd done earlier. Only this time, you tugged harder, letting the strands slide between your fingers.

Felix's breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping him as his head tilted back, his eyes slipping shut. "Oh..." he whispered, his voice breathy and strained. He bit his lip again, the sight nearly undoing you.

"Lix," you said, the word coming out hoarse. "I-"

"Don't stop," he breathed, his hands gripping your shoulders a little tighter. "Just- just one more time."

Your fingers tightened into his hair, tugging a little harder this time. Felix's mouth fell open, a moan slipping free as his eyes fluttered opened, dark and unfocused. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his cheeks burning red. He was looking at you with such raw, shameless desire that you didn't know how to handle it. You were pretty sure you were shaking.

You could feel the now drenched fabric of your panties clinging to you, your entire body thrumming with need. Felix's body was warm and solid, his grip on you desperate as your leg experimentally lifted. You could feel his length pressing into your leg, his need becoming clear.

Felix’s body went rigid as he suddenly snapped out of his tired, needy trance, his flushed face contorting with embarrassment. He sucked in a sharp breath, his wide eyes flickering downward before realization hit him like a truck.

“Oh—uh, sorry—” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he scrambled to pull away from you. His movements were jerky, frantic, as though physical distance could erase the undeniable evidence of his body's reaction. He stood up too quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet.

You blinked, still caught in the haze of heated confusion. “Wait-” you pleaded instinctively, reaching out to catch his wrist before he could escape.

“I can’t,” he muttered, shaking his head as though trying to clear it. His face was bright red, the tips of his ears burning. “I—I shouldn’t—I mean—this is just—”

“Felix,” you interrupted softly, your voice steadier than you felt. Your grip on his wrist tightened just enough to keep him from bolting. “Don’t… don’t go.”

“I—” He bit his lower lip, clearly at war with himself, torn between wanting to vanish into thin air and staying despite the mortifying situation. His breathing was shallow, uneven, and you could tell how desperately he was trying to regain control.

You swallowed hard, heart pounding so violently it was a wonder he couldn’t hear it. Heat crawled up your neck as words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. “You don’t have to go,” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “I mean… if you want to stay.”

Felix blinked at you, bewildered. “Stay?” he repeated dumbly, his voice cracking again.

“I—” You faltered, embarrassment knotting your stomach. The logical part of your brain screamed at you to shut up, to take the out he was clearly offering, but something raw and primal clawed its way to the surface instead. “You can… um...” You hesitated, heat flooding your face. “If it helps—if you need to—you can... do it here. In front of me.”

The moment the words left your mouth, your heart stopped. The weight of what you'd just said hung heavy in the room, your own embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. You couldn’t even look at him.

“What?” Felix’s voice cracked, his eyes going impossibly wide. “Wait—are you saying—do you want me to—”

“I don’t know...” you blurted out, mortified beyond belief but too far gone to stop now. “I just—” You exhaled shakily, words fumbling over themselves in your mouth. “I liked hearing you, I shouldn’t have, but I did, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Felix’s breath hitched audibly. He stared at you, his expression shifting between disbelief, awe, and something far more intense than either of you had expected to find in this situation.

“You liked it,” he repeated softly, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

“I can’t help it,” you admitted, your voice barely steady. “I’m sorry, it’s just—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

There was a long, heavy pause. Felix’s gaze flickered between your face and the hand still wrapped around his wrist. His lips parted, words catching in his throat before he finally spoke again.

“Just this once?” he asked quietly, like he was reassuring himself as much as you.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. “Yeah,” you murmured, barely managing to get the word out. “Just this once.”

Felix’s body trembled slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Slowly, cautiously, he sat back down beside you, his breath uneven as if he were standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to jump or not.

But he leaned back, looking forward as if he was trying to pretend you weren't staring holes into him. Then his hands moved, closing his eyes as his hand slowly went to his bulge, his breath hitching. You could hear the sound of the fabric shifting and his hips slowly rolled.

The sounds were enough to have you weak, your face feeling like it's on fire, the way he moaned and breathed out made you even more excited. He was enjoying it, enjoying the feeling of the fabric rubbing against him.

It was as if your knees felt a magnetic force, you were drawn to the way his hips rolled and the sounds. It was a good thing he had his eyes closed or he would have seen the way you fell off of the couch onto the floor, the way you crawled over to him was embarrassing, but the urge was too strong.

You settled on your knees between his legs, the new position giving you a much better view of the show. His fingers curled into the couch cushion, his body tense and shuddering. You could hear his ragged breaths, the subtle groans as his hips rocked against his hand.

You wanted more. You wanted to hear more. You wanted to see more. The realization washed over you, your pulse throbbing in your ears. Without thinking, you reached forward, resting a hand on his knee.

Felix froze, his eyes snapping open, his face flushed. His gaze drifted to the hand on his knee and then up to your face. He blinked a few times, his lips parted in surprise. You felt like a deer caught in headlights. You had no idea why you did that. Your hand trembled against his knee, a mixture of guilt and shame and something else twisting in your gut.

Before you could pull away, his hand moved. His fingers tangled in yours, holding your hand firmly against his knee. He took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes dark and full of something that looked dangerously close to want.

You were paralyzed. Stuck in place, frozen, unable to move.

Felix bit his lip, his gaze unwavering. His free hand went back to his bulge, his fingers curling over the outline of his cock. His hips jerked slightly, a breathy gasp slipping past his lips.

Then, his eyes met yours, and your heart stopped. Something sparked in his gaze, something so intense that you felt yourself tremble.

Without breaking eye contact, he began to roll his hips again, a low groan rumbling in his chest. His hand gripped the base of his shaft, fingers sliding along his length through his pants. You couldn't look away. The sight was overwhelming, almost too much, but you couldn't look away.

His hand left yours and moved up to the hem of his shirt, hiking it up to expose his bare stomach, the muscles flexing with every movement. You swallowed hard, transfixed by the way his abs contracted and relaxed, the way his breath quickened and grew heavier.

Felix bit his lower lip, his brows furrowing, his gaze darkening as his free hand slid up his abdomen. He brushed his fingers over his nipple, his lips parting, a strained moan escaping him. He pinched and twisted his nipple, the sensation shooting through his nerves and straight to his cock.

You watched as he slowly brought his pants and boxers down enough to expose his erection. Just the sight of it made your core pulse. He was bigger than you thought he would be. And you could feel yourself tingling, desperate for friction, almost numb just from watching him.

Felix groaned, his head falling back as his fingers wrapped around his cock. He gave a few slow, experimental strokes, his hips thrusting slightly. The sound of his hand moving over his cock sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You were completely hypnotized by the sight of him. You so badly wanted to hold it in your hand yourself, but you knew that'd be crossing a line, the very same line you were currently dancing on the edge of.

Your hands wandered, your fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts and the top of your underwear. Your fingers grazed your sensitive flesh and you whimpered, your hips jerking reflexively. It would be so embarrassing if he found out you were touching yourself because of him, but that thought only made you want to do it even more.

Felix moaned, his eyes fluttering open. His gaze landed on you and his breath caught. Watching how your eyes were transfixed on his cock, his hand moving teasingly slow, making sure you could see everything.

He was mesmerized by the way you looked, and how aroused you looked just by watching him, he felt a rush of pride knowing that he was the one making you look that way. His fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his movements sped up, his chest heaving.

"You like watching me, hm?" he asked, his voice deep and raspy, his accent strong and hitting your ears in a different way.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You were too far gone to speak. Instead, you nodded, whimpering quietly.

He chuckled softly, his eyes darkening. "Fuck, that's so hot," he groaned, his gaze flickering over your body, drinking in the sight of you. "I wanna make a mess on that pretty face of yours."

Your heart pounded, the words sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You couldn't stop yourself, you moaned, the sound surprising both of you. Felix groaned, his cock twitching in his hand, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

You were getting so close, and it had never happened this fast in your life. The sight of his cock, the sounds he was making, the way he was staring at you; it was too much. Your hand moved faster, your fingers dipping into your aching cunt and brushing against your clit. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily.

Felix's eyes widened, his gaze flickering between your face and your hand. He sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching.

"Are you... are you touching yourself?"

His words hit you like a slap. Your eyes snapped open, your face burning with shame. But before you could say anything, his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging roughly.

"Don't stop," he hissed.

"But-"

"Just keep going," he urged, his voice low and husky. "I want to watch, too."

Your stomach flipped. He wanted to watch you? You moaned in response, your fingers stilling inside of you. Your body shook, the intensity of his gaze too much for you to handle. You closed your eyes, trying to ground yourself, but it didn't help.

His hand stilled, his fingers moving back to its grip on your chin. "Keep going, keep looking at me."

And before you could think about how embarrassed you'd be later, your fingers started moving again, his gaze searing into you. You couldn't breathe, your body trembling as his hand moved faster. You were so close, so painfully close. You gasped, arching into your touch.

Felix groaned, his head falling back. "Fuck, just like that."

His words went straight to your core. You could feel yourself pulsing, the pressure building. Your hand moved faster, the sensations flooding your body. Your hips bucked against your hand, a broken moan slipping past your lips.

Felix's gaze locked with yours, watching your every movement, your every expression. He could tell you were much closer than he was, but he seemed to love it all.

He watched your face, taking in every detail, committing them to memory. He was mesmerized, captivated, entranced. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you. The sight of you, the sound of your breathing, the way you moaned and shuddered; it was intoxicating.

You were right on the edge, your orgasm building rapidly. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips jerked against your hand, your fingers frantically moving over your clit.

"Lixie... I can't-" you moaned, the sound coming out strangled and desperate.

Felix's gaze flickered over your face, taking in every inch. His jaw clenched, his lips parting. He let out a low groan, the sound echoing in your ears.

"Cum for me," he commanded, his voice rough and breathless. "Cum for me and I'll cum all over that pretty face of yours."

The words sent a shiver down your spine. Your whole body shuddered, heat flooding your veins. You gasped, arching into your hand. Your hips bucked against the couch, the tension building rapidly.

Your orgasm crashed over you, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You cried out, your eyes screwing shut. You couldn't control the sounds that spilled from your mouth, a mixture of moans and cries and curses.

Felix's eyes widened, his gaze fixed on you. He watched every detail, his eyes glazed over with lust. He watched as you came undone, his lips parted, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He groaned, his cock throbbing, precum dripping onto his hand.

"Fuck, that's hot," he murmured, his voice low and breathless.

You could barely catch your breath, your chest heaving. You couldn't stop trembling, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm. You whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Felix's grip on your chin loosened, his fingers gently brushing across your cheek. His thumb brushed over your lips, the tender gesture sending a shiver down your spine.

"Such a good girl," he whispered, his tone affectionate and almost loving.

The words made your heart skip a beat.

But then his hand traveled down, wrapping around your neck and pulling you closer. You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. His grip was firm but gentle, his fingers digging into the soft skin.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

You obeyed without question, your eyes opening, meeting his.

Felix groaned, his gaze darkening, his lips parting. "God, that's so hot," he breathed, his cock twitching in his hand.

You couldn't look away, couldn't take your eyes off of him. You could feel the heat in your face, the flush creeping up your neck. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful, and the sight of him made your heart race.

His hand moved faster, his breathing ragged, his gaze intense. He was so close, his body tensing, his hips bucking. He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut, his fingers tightening around your neck.

You couldn't stop your mouth from opening, slightly letting your tongue fall out. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you what a bad idea this was, but you didn't care.

Felix's eyes opened, his gaze locking with yours. He groaned, his hips jerking, his body trembling. His breathy and somewhat cute moans got louder as his hips rolled and bucked, his hand moving faster and faster.

He was getting close. So, so close. His body shuddered, his cock throbbing. He gasped, his grip on your neck tightening, his body going rigid. His eyes screwed shut, his lips parting. A shudder rippled through him, his orgasm crashing over him.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him. He was so beautiful, so perfect. The way his face twisted in pleasure, the way his chest heaved, the way his lips parted. You were mesmerized, captivated, entranced. You couldn't tear your eyes away.

And then, he opened his eyes, his gaze locking with yours. He moaned, his cock twitching. A thick, warm stream of cum landed on your face, splattering across your face and tongue. You couldn't look away, couldn't think straight.

His grip loosened on you as he laid back on the couch, his eyes drifting closed. You were frozen in place, stunned, unable to move. His cum dripped down your cheek, his taste lingering on your tongue.

It wasn't until Felix was completely spent that you came to, snapping out of your trance. Your face was burning, the heat crawling up your neck, your ears turning pink. You could feel his cum slowly sliding down your cheek, the sensation strange and foreign.

"Oh, shit."

You flinched at the sound of his voice, his eyes fluttering open.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I should've-"

Before he could continue, you swallowed the cum that was pooling in your mouth. You could feel it running down your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth on your skin.

Felix's eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed red.

You could feel yourself blush, embarrassment flooding your veins. You could feel his cum, still warm and sticky, clinging to your face. The feeling was unfamiliar and strange, but not unpleasant.

Felix cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away.

"I should- uh- I'll just go clean up."

You couldn't speak, couldn't move. You couldn't even look at him.

The two of you sat in silence, the tension heavy and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say, what to do. Neither of you had ever imagined this happening, and now, here you were.

"I'll... see you later."

You could hear his footsteps, the sound growing distant as he left the room.

And that was it.

You were alone, his cum still on your face. You felt a wave of shame, of guilt, of embarrassment. You started this, you asked your own best friend to do that in front of you, and you came in front of him, even worse to the thought of him.

You wanted to cry, to scream, to hide. You couldn't look at him again, you couldn't stand the thought of facing him, but you couldn't stay here.

You rushed to your feet, your legs shaking. You ran into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You stood there, in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection.

You looked like a mess, like a disaster, a fucking wreck. Your hair was a mess, your face covered in cum, your shirt slightly tucked into your pants.

Things had just changed.

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