#it doesn't feel like icy hot by the way

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

If you DO want to put T on your dick for any reason, DO NOT PUT T-GEL ON YOUR DICK, but you CAN go get yourself some T-CREAM which is FINE to put on your dick.

The problem is not the T here. The problem is the CARRIER,in this case, the GEL that is ALCOHOL-BASED and will make you feel like you t-bagged a bowl of BATTERY ACID so doooooooon't???????

If your T's carrier is NOT those things, feel free to put it on your dick for hrt reasons or lube reasons (within your planned dosage for the day pls, hormones like to be STEADY and don't love big ol spikes when you get horny - this is for your comfort not safety but be gentle to ur body) as you so desire.

Or. I guess. If you're a masochist who LIKES feeling like you just t-bagged a bowl of battery acid. Live your bliss? Just know what you're doing and do it on purpose I guess lmao

I saw a post a little while ago that I'll never find again, but it's still bugging me. It was written like a PSA about proper procedure for applying testosterone gel--mainly, how you're not supposed to let it get on anyone else's skin.

And that's correct. But the post went hard on it, like "please, please be aware of the risks of this medication, it can do so much damage to others if you're not careful, I just think we should be honest about the advantages and disadvantages of medications like this."

It could've been sincere, but it gave me concern-trolling vibes real bad and I can't get it out of my head. So here's my PSA:

Don't slap on your T-gel and then immediately rub your bare bicep on anyone.

Once 2 hours have passed, the remaining amount available to be absorbed is negligible. The med guide says to wash your bicep before you rub it on anyone, but even that's being extremely cautious.

Testosterone isn't poison. If you apply a full dose every day, it still takes months before anything noticeable happens. It's not going to kill someone who accidentally touches your skin for .5 milliseconds.

You do not have to handle T-gel like it's drain cleaner. It's not corrosive. Cis women have testosterone. It's a thing that humans have in our bodies. Avoid getting your medication onto anyone else, but holy shit nothing bad is gonna happen if you forget one time and snuggle shirtless.

T-gel is alcohol-based, so it's best to refrain from being on fire until it has dried thoroughly.

Don't put it on your dick. If you've ever accidentally or on purpose gotten IcyHot on your dick, you have an intuitive understanding of how the skin there differs from bicep skin. Also, the effects of testosterone gel don't localize like that and your dick is fine, I promise.

Don't eat it. I don't know why you'd want to, but don't.

Don't leave the bottle out around little kids on account of little kids being the way that they are, i.e., enthusiastic about potions.

[novemberheart]

{overview} The cycle completes itself

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, MDNI, p in v smex, mating cycles, marking, cursing, Simon and John chapter

Chapter 33 <- Chapter 34 -> Chapter 35

It wasn't like how everyone had described it.

It wasn't some euphoric high, that had you screaming with pleasure.

It wasn't painful.

It was gentle.

It was stable.

It was secure.

You were no longer alone in the world.

You were protected, loved, and valued.

You weren't alone in the world.

You were safe.

You were no longer alone in the world.

Warmth flooded you. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Your heartbeat slowed in your chest, your muscles relaxing. Those three seconds felt like a lifetime, your mind moving from its halt to overdrive. You leaned forward your teeth catching his shoulder completing the cycle. He growled against you, the vibrations going straight through your new mark.

It burned.

Hands grabbed you ready to pull you away. He wasn't deep enough in his rut for it to not hurt. He held up his hand to stop them, his mouth still refusing to leave your neck.

He had experienced much worse for far less reward.

He knew this might’ve happened when he marked you. It would only be natural for you to return the favor.

The initial pain left, a sudden wave of iciness crashing over him. It was welcomed compared to the feeling of being lit on fire from the inside out. He was changing. Every fiber of his being altering to better serve you. He was no longer just an alpha.

He was your alpha.

The greatest title one could have.

His fangs throbbed at the excursion and he finally felt satisfied enough to detach himself. He licked across the teeth indents, his saliva the perfect remedy to help it heal nicely. Couldn't have you walking around butchered after all. You whined against him, the warmth leaving your body in an instant.

You wished the feeling stayed. You whimpered, your fangs shrinking back to their normal size, your mouth detaching from his shoulder with a pop. Your mind worked on its own, instincts running hot. Your tongue soothed over the spot, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine. The two of you were useless, needing all the help you could get to roll you together. You both woke up a bit from the jostling, you pushing your way under his tank top to press against his chilled skin. They built a nest around you as best they could, you still clinging onto Johnny’s shirt. Their bodies acted like walls to keep out even the idea of any threats entering this sanctuary. Simon's eyes met theirs- hazy yet thankful, before lulling to sleep.

He woke up to your teeth on his arm. He chuckled lowly, his hand smoothing over the back of your head.

“Yes, pretty girl?” He murmured, nothing but patience and adoration in his voice. You smiled up at him cheekily, rolling onto your back, exposing your neck to him. Simon's bite was developing nicely. It was too bruised to make out the details yet. “One bite wasn't enough, hmmmm?” he grumbled, his teeth grazing against your chest.

“No,” you breathed in agreement. Your body twitched in excitement, your hands wandering around his body. John had the perfect balance of muscle and fat, warmth and strength.

You purred at his scent. His normal campfirey scent weighted down by the scent of an alpha in a rut. You preened at the thought that you were the one that brought the scent forward.

“What do you need, sweet girl?” He hummed, his lips soft against your shoulder.

“You,” you mumbled, your fingers racking through his hair. “And maybe a bath?” you added, making him chuckle.

“I like the sound of both of those,” He smiled, already moving to stand. Simon was still out like a light next to you. “How ‘bout we leave that here so it doesn't get wet,” John suggested.

“Simon?” you questioned softly. John's shoulders shook as he laughed, his hands reaching out to grab at Johnny’s shirt you were still clinging to.

“This, sweetheart,” he said softly, pulling it away from you. You flushed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You didn't have time to dwell on it, his hands hoisting you up from under your pits. You were about to insist on being able to walk, but the feeling of being so close to him quickly drowned that out.

He drew the two of you a bath, his thumbs already beginning to loosen the tight muscles that had formed.

“Where are the betas,” you questioned, your hands smoothing over his broad chest.

“Your betas are getting us some lunch,” he responded instantly. “How does your bite feel?”

“Fine,” you assured. It only stung a bit when you got some of the warm water on it. Your body wasn't rejecting it. You sighed, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat could easily lull you to sleep, your eyes already growing heavy, yet your body had other plans.

“Alpha,” you whined, resting your chin against his chest, and staring up at him. He groaned, leaning down so his forehead was against yours. He pressed a kiss against your head, shushing you softly, continuing to clean. He maneuvered you so your back was against his chest.

You purred as his soapy hand ducked between your thighs.

“Easy, pretty,” he soothed one large hand prying your legs apart. His thumb ran over your folds, before settling on a lazy rhythm against your little bundle of nerves. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, your hips rolling against his hand.

He pulled his hand away.

You growled nastily at him and he swatted your bottom. He put you on your feet and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, letting the tub drain out. He turned over his shoulder staring at you expectantly.

“I'm sorry for growling at you,” you mumbled, your eyes shining with tears. You should know better than to egg an alpha on while he was in a rut. He placed a kiss against your lips.

“S’alright sweetheart,” he soothed. His eyes were soft, almost like the interaction had amused him. “Now how about you hop up on the counter and spread those pretty legs for me, hmmm?”

“You two done in there?” Simon grunted from the bed. John chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the brutal pounding that just took place in the bathroom. John tossed you on the bed, Simon's hand immediately spreading across your lower stomach. Could he feel John's warmth from there? You sighed happily, stretching your sore- but satisfied limbs against the sheets.

You could faintly hear a ruckus coming from the living room, John rolling his eyes.

“Betas must be back,” he nearly chuckled. He moved towards the door, throwing an ‘I’ll be back’ over his shoulder.

You rubbed at your tired eyes, slowly rolling them over to look at Simon.

He was already staring at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, the overwhelming desire to press yourself so close to him so you would be joined together forever.

His jaw was clenched shut, his eyes unsure of what to do. Tears welled in them, and he quickly cleared his throat beginning to move away from you.

“No!” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “You’re my alpha now,” you breathed. “You can't just pull away from me because you feel something, Simon. Please don't run away from it,” your words were desperate, your face buried in his neck, your cheek brushing against the mark on his shoulder. “I need you,” you whined, your grip on his tightening.

His body relaxed from above yours causing both of you to sink into the mattress.

“Then you'll have me,” he muttered with absolute certitude. The sentiment was more powerful than an ’I love you.’ For Simon, the act of giving himself was more terrifying and meaningful than throwing around those three overused words.

He groaned against you as you slammed your lips into his. It was sloppy, relentless, and passionate just like your relationship with him.

“Wanted to make you mine for so long, pup,” he groaned, his tongue flattening against the mark on your skin. His mark. His mouth swallowed yours again, the thick fabric of his sweats not able to hide the throbbing member confined in them. “Whose mark is this?” he growled, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread.

“Yours,” you panted. “My alphas,” you gasped. He vibrated against you, the purr in his chest feeling like a bolt of lightning against your skin. Your hands scratched at his broad torso, pulling at the light gray fabric.

You could feel his smirk against you as he kissed the various love bites that littered your skin.

“Can I take you, pup?” he murmured against you. You nodded rapidly, rolling your hips up to meet his. The question was; could you take him? You couldn't even bring yourself to look, keeping your eyes steady on the ceiling. He clicked his tongue at you, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll go slow, pup. Won't hurt at all,” he assured. You rested your hands on either side of his cheek, connecting your lips with his.

It felt so right being in his arms. Looking back now all the fights and feelings you had towards him felt silly, but it made you appreciate this moment all the more. Your hands rolled down his body, pulling at the hem of his tank top. You faltered when you felt him flinch.

“Can I?” you whispered. “It is mine after all,” you smiled up at him. He smirked, nodding softly. He pulled the tank over his head, dropping it to the floor. Your stomach turned a bit at the painful scars that littered him. The biggest going all the way from his collar down to his ribs. One spot caught your eye. A burn mark on his hip, just peeking out over the waistband of his sweats.

“Look familiar?” he teased softly, following your gaze.

You wiped your eyes.

“It does.”

It was the injury that sent you to them.

How far you all have come.

You traced your hands over every inch of him. He let you, his eyes shutting softly. You paused at your mark, running your fingers over the sore flesh. It had already begun to heal and scab over. It looked a little funny next to John's large one, but they complimented each other. Your hands pulling at his sweats caused his eyes to open.

“Alright, sweet girl,” he hushed, helping you shake his pants off. Your eyes still refused to look down at him, feeling the weight of him slap between your thighs was enough. He pushed the pillows around and brought the blanket up over the two of you, a sentiment that made your omega purr. He was building a nest for the both of you. You rested your heated cheek against his shoulder, taking a deep breath when you felt the head of his cock catch against your entrance.

The push-in was slow, your body greedily accepting every inch and stretch. You thought it was safe to look down, figuring you were almost there only to see only half of him buried inside you. Your head flopped against the pillow, your half-lidded eyes meeting his. You were too embarrassed to admit the pressure building in your stomach was about to snap.

“Simon,” you mumbled, your thighs shaking around his waist.

“Doin’ so good, pup,” he breathed. His thumb circled your clit lazily, a rough growl leaving him as you came around his cock. “That easy?” he grumbled, teeth biting at your cheek.

“Feels so good,” you gasped, your hands resting on your shaky thighs.

“Wasn’t even fully in and you’re already comin’ around me?” he smirked. “Such a good omega,” he praised, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You grew restless when he refused to move, his eyes taking in every inch of you.

“Simon,” you muttered, wiggling your hips. He snarled, large hands keeping you in place. “You’re too big to stay still like that,” you whined. It wasn't unpleasant, it was a toe-curling fullness, but the spasming happening throughout your body was wearing on you. “Simon, please,” you continued.

“Fuckin’ made for me weren't you?” he mumbled, sending a shockwave through you. The last bit of his self restraint snapping when you rippled around him. He pulled out just enough for you to miss the fullness before pushing his hips back into yours. You couldn't help but squeak your hands grabbing at the pillows for support. He grabbed your hands guiding them to his shoulders. “Don’t worry about scratching me up, pup,” he purred, his pace quickening before you could process his words. Truth be told he wanted you to claw at him. He wanted every bit of proof, every bit of assurance that this was real. You were here. Under him and marked, beautiful wet eyes staring up at him with such feeling he couldn't hold your gaze for as long as he craved to.

God, did he fucking love you.

You whined when you felt a growing bulge at the base of his cock.

“Don't worry ‘bout that, pretty,” Simon panted, holding himself sheathed inside you. It was a pattern for him, give you five or six hard thrusts before keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you for as long as he wanted.

“I want it,” you whined, nails dragging up his sides.

“Yeah?” he questioned breathlessly. He pushed his hips deeper, the tip of his knot pushing you closer to your limit. You didn't care though. You needed it. Needed to be filled by your alpha. It was the only thing that would make you better. The only thing that would calm the fire blazing through your veins.

“Need it,” you added through a shriek. His thrusts were rhythmic now, working you open as much as he could to take his knot. “Yes,” you repeated like a mantra. It only spurred him on, his hips halting against yours, favoring to slowly bully his knot into your pretty cunt. “Simon,” you moaned.

You came with a scream, your body shaking against the bed as his knot pushed into place at just the right moment for every ounce of his cum to be locked into you. He pressed you into the mattress, his face burying in your neck as he came with a gritted groan, his own shoulders twitching from pleasure.

The room was nearly quiet, except for the thrumming of both your heartbeats. Neither of you could move even if you wanted to, too blissed out for your own good.

“Comfortable?” he checked, having to dig deep to get his vocal cords to work. You nodded softly, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him as close as possible.

“Yes, alpha,” you sighed, completely and utterly content.

He waited till you were asleep to let a tear fall from his eye.

After years he finally had something he had always denied himself.

A pack.

You were grumpy when you woke up. Your body still exhausted from all the strenuous activity it had been put through.

Your alphas didn't seem to mind at all. Their fingers and lips trying to gently smooth the frown off your pretty face. You felt a bit better after eating, yet you could hardly hold the spoon. Kyle was happy to feed you, wanting to return the favor after you had so dutifully taken care of him.

You took another bath and were ushered into a clean bed with clean sheets. You should be happy. Yet there was one thing weighing on your mind.

One half of your neck felt empty.

“Bloody do it,” Simon huffed, his alpha on edge from your attitude.

“Please,” you added, through wet lashes. Your hands reach forward tangling themselves in the soft fabric of his shirt. Your lips ghosted over his pulse. Right there. Right, in plain sight, but could still easily be covered by facial hair or a scarf if needed.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he lulled, tilting his head back to allow you the room you needed. You didn’t need to be told twice, your fangs already throbbing at the sight. They sunk in with ease, a confirmation it was the perfect spot. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping onto Simon’s arm to steady himself. His jaw fell open, spots appearing in his vision as a wave of peace flooded over him. It was an addictive high. One that he knew he’d be chasing through you till the bitter end. You released him, your tongue soothing over the area just like Simon had taught you.

“Think you broke him, love,” Simon chuckled, watching as John’s eyes grew hazy from the euphoric high. A shiver ran up his spine as those same eyes zeroed in on your neck. Simon rested a hand against your cheek, tilting your head back to give John the perfect view. “Relax, pup,” Simon smiled down at you softly, making your eyes well up. His thumb ran under your eye, trying to ignore his own pounding heart as he felt your heartbeat quicken. You could feel John’s teeth hit your neck, not giving you a moment of relief as they sunk into your tender flesh.

You felt a moment of bliss before passing out.

It wasn't completely uncalled for, you had been through a lot not only this week but today.

The pleased smile across your face gives them no room for worry.

As silence settled over the three of you, one known fact cut the silence in the air.

A new phase of your lives was underway.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! This will be the last chapter of SECTION 1 of As Needed. Section 2 will begin in THREE DAYS! Lots of love!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag III

Frida Maanum x Emma Lennartsson x Baby!Reader

Summary: When Emma and Frida found you

Frida is leaving for England.

Arsenal have been interested in her since the season began so it was only natural that she went off there to develop her career further.

But, still, Emma doesn't want to see Frida leave.

Frida occupies a space in Emma's heart that she can't put into words. Frida is everything to her, the air, the ground, the sky and the stars.

But Emma would never discourage Frida from finding her place in a league abroad.

Frida deserves everything in life, even if it's half a world away from where Emma is looking after their home in Sweden.

It will be different in the beginning, Emma knows this, but together there isn't much they can't overcome.

But, still, she'll miss the way Frida's body feels against hers. Even now, as they sneak around the back of the training centre to kiss.

It's not the most professional they've ever been but she just can't help herself when it comes to Frida.

"E-Emma," Frida says in a hushed tone, pushing Emma's roaming lips from her neck," Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Emma pulls away, glancing around for whatever errant sound Frida has heard.

"I..."

There's nothing but the breeze in the wind, the rustle of leafless branches in the height of winter.

It's absolutely freezing. It's predicted that this is to be the coldest day of the year.

"Nothing," Frida says," I must have imagined it."

Emma's lips go back to her neck, leaving dainty kisses all over her skin. Each one a labour of love, red hot in a way that feels beautiful as the snow falls around them.

Emma stops though, pulling away again.

"No," She says," Wait. I think I can hear it too."

It's faint, barely audible whimpers and whines that are getting more and more quiet as they go on.

But Emma and Frida are alone in an icy cold wasteland.

There's not even birds in the trees. Yet, now that Emma's straining her ears, she can hear the noises with crystal clear clarity.

She shivers as another freezing breeze cuts through her like a knife.

"I...I think it's coming from over there," Frida says, looking over at the clump of dense bushes over by the bins.

"Stay here," Emma says, wary of if it's some wild animal," I'll go and luck."

"Emma-"

"Stay here, Frida. I'll check it out."

She approaches the bushes carefully, slowly in case the animal jumps at her.

But there's no animal.

Just you.

"Emma?" Frida calls, watching as Emma lowers herself to her knees," What is it?"

Emma turns, a singular blanket in her hold and, in that blanket, is you.

"I...I think we need to call an ambulance," She says shakily," I-I think she's been abandoned."

You're tiny, smaller than any baby that Frida's ever seen before. You don't look good either. You're obviously freezing, little lips turning a concerning shade of purple and the cries from your mouth are getting quieter and quieter the longer you're outside.

Teammates clamber over themselves to help when Emma and Frida run in with you.

Somewhere along the way, Frida loses her top when it's clear that you're either nearly hypothermic or already developing it. Skin-to-skin seems to be what's best for you as you lay weakly on Frida's chest with layers of blankets over you both.

Now that she can see you properly, it's with a sinking feeling that she realises how underweight you actually are. You're nothing but skin and bones as Frida holds you close while they wait for the ambulance.

"They're calling her the Linköping baby," Emma says softly," The staff and the girls, that is. Word has spread pretty quickly."

"That's unfair," Frida replies, her own voice barely above a whisper as she feels your lungs inflate shakily against her," They can't call her that. She needs a name."

"They don't think she's going to survive," Emma says," Even before the ambulance gets here. She's in bad shape. They don't think she's going to make it."

"And you?" Frida finally tears her eyes away from you to look at her girlfriend. "What do you think?"

"I think..."

Your head barely pokes out from under all of the blankets, your eyes half open. You're not moving much. It seems to almost be too much effort to even breath, like everything in you is fighting to do something as basic and instinctual as that.

Emma didn't know what to expect when she looked in that bush. You were laying there, weak and unmoving in just a singular blanket and a thin onesie. One could almost mistake you for being asleep if it weren't from the stilted way your chest rose and fell and the way faint noises would escape your mouth every so often.

"I think...I think she's a fighter."

"I think so too."

Emma can tell what Frida's thinking before Frida herself even knows what she's thinking. She can tell by the way Frida's holding, you the way she's looking at you, the way she presses a soft kiss to the wispy hair at the top of your head.

Emma can tell because she's thinking the exact same thing.

"She looks like you," Emma says, starting off gently," Don't you think?"

Frida giggles a little bit. "I was thinking she had your nose. What part of her looks like me exactly?"

"Her hair, maybe," Emma says," And I'm sure once she opens this eyes of hers, they'll be like yours."

"You don't know that."

"I think I do."

"She might never open them," Frida says suddenly," If everyone is thinking she won't come out of this. They might never open."

"She will. She's a fighter."

Frida's throat bobs. "But if she doesn't...What would they even put on her grave? The Linköping baby?"

"You want to name her?"

"Everyone deserves a name. No matter how little they are."

"Then name her."

"I-"

"Ambulance is here," One of their teammates pokes their heads through the door," Medics are coming in now. They said to stay put."

"Y/N," Frida says suddenly.

"Huh?" Emma asks.

"She looks like a y/n."

You're tiny and malnourished and halfway to death's door. The possibility of you surviving the night is astronomically low.

But you have a name now and, in Emma's mind, you have a bedroom at home. A bedroom with a soft, warm crib and a dog companion who would just adore you. A bedroom in a house full of toys and soft clothes and two mothers who would adore you too.

A first name and a last name from the mothers who found you freezing cold in the dead of winter, buried in a bush as snow fell over you.

"Yeah," Emma says as the paramedics rush in," She does."

[luveline]

hey pookie bear❤️❤️ i was wondering if u could do james x reader but enemies to lovers/one bed troupe, i can’t find enemies to lovers with james very often and my mind is craving it. thank you ily❤️❤️

hey!! ily tysm for requesting!!! —you and co-worker!james share a hotel room for the night. fem!reader, 1.5k

James Potter is the most insufferable, arrogant, suffocating boy you've ever met in your entire life, so when you hear you'll be sharing a room with him tonight, you shut down. Total icy silence. If he wants conversation, he can ring one of his irritating mates. 

It feels borderline illegal to have your workplace make you share a room considering, but you're adults, and the trip was supposedly all inclusive. Not even the most luxurious per diem could make this worth it, though. 

James lays in the middle of the bed, arms behind his head, skin awash by lamplight and hair a dark halo against the crisp white linens. He grins at you and you despise how handsome he is. Handsome, and such a fucking prick of a man. 

"Won't you join me?" he teases. 

You've kept your vow to ignore him until that point. "Please don't lie on my side of the bed." 

He moves over, looking startlingly apologetic. You'd believe he was repentant, but he asks, "What's the point? You'll be in my arms sooner or later." 

You nibble the inside of your lip. He agitates you, he irks you, but you know James is a good guy. His irritating mates are the same. When you joined the office, he made sure they all remembered to celebrate your birthday though it'd only been a few weeks. When you fell up the icy steps on the way in one morning, James didn't take the piss. He helped you up into the doorway and frowned at your bloody knees and ripped tights like they physically pained him.  

"Do you want to shower first?" you ask. 

"I shower in the mornings. Thank you. But I can strip down now if you'd like." 

"James, please," you say, rubbing your eyes. You'd usually have something much more biting to say, but you're tired. At the last second, you summon the energy. "No one wants to see that." 

He glares at you like he's remembered he doesn't like you. 

"Cruel." 

He leans over the edge of the bed and pulls a book out of his suitcase where it lays in arm's reach. 

"I didn't know you could read," you add. 

"Points off for awfulness. Put your jammies on, shortcake, I wanna see what you packed." 

He's being a creep to annoy you. It's working. You grab your pyjamas and a change of underwear and leave his presence to the small bathroom for a quick shower. You take your time to dry off. It's too big a wish to have him be sleeping when you emerge, and sure enough, he's wide awake but changed into his own pyjamas, plaid bottoms and a white t-shirt. 

"Now I know you're obsessed with me," he says, raising his eyebrows over the pages of his book. 

You cross your arms self consciously over your near identical pyjamas, the bathroom door closing behind you. 

James waits for you to put your dirty clothes in your suitcase before piping up again. "You look adorable." 

"Fuck off, please." 

He snorts and kicks the sheets down the length of the bed. Stretching with a groan that makes your stomach hurt, he puts his novel tented down on the nightstand. His glasses are next. He looks different without them but no less handsome. If anything, the eagle shape of his nose is more pronounced without them, as is the little pink scar on his cheek, stark against his brown skin. 

"You're an awful roommate," he says decisively, "you use all the hot water, you leave the windows open, as now you're ogling me. I feel rather objectified." 

You avert your eyes guiltily. "You might want to take your temperature. You likely have a fever, considering how delusional you're acting."

"Ooh, burn." 

Face hot with spite, you push back the sheets on your side of the bed and turn off your lamp. After a second, James turns off his. 

"You're not brushing your teeth?" you ask. Your voice lacks a specific bite, fatigue kicking in. 

"Did while you were in the bathroom." 

"What'd you do with the toothpaste spit?" 

"Swallowed it." 

You laugh. It sounds much too friendly, and you hate it. "You're disgusting," you mutter. 

You slide down flat on your back and pull the sheets over your legs and stomach, more than aware of his nearness and the heat of his body already waiting for you under the thin quilt. He smells nice, this close. Like deodorant, mint, but something else that snags your attention. 

You hate him so much sometimes —he steals your pens constantly from your desk, he never offers you a cup of coffee even when he's making them for everyone else, and he's lazy. He doesn't do his third of the finances on time. He nudges his desk into yours to make your small figurines fall over and calls it 'earthquake training'. They're fucking plastic. James Potter drives you up the goddamn wall, and being close to someone like this couldn't be more awkward. You're stiff as a board. 

"I was only kidding earlier," James says. He's quiet, but so is the room. He might as well yell. "I wouldn't lay a finger on you if you didn't want me to." 

"You gave me a snakebite three days ago." 

"I thought you had a bug on you," he says furiously, having had this argument already. "That's not the point. If you want me to sleep on the floor, I'll do that. I have no intention of making you uncomfortable." 

"You've already failed, then." 

He sighs. "I can go sleep on the floor in Sirius and Remus' room." 

"They wouldn't have you in the bed?" you joke lightly. They have a close friendship. It's nice, even though you might pretend they're a throuple whenever single girls visit the office to ruin his chances. 

"Oh, they probably would." 

"It's fine. Don't… don't bother. It's not a big deal for me if it isn't for you. I know you wouldn't try anything." 

"Yeah?" 

"Of course. You're a bitch, but I don't believe you're that kind." 

James laughs loudly, his chuckles shaking the mattress. You swear you can feel his eyes on your face, though the room is bathed in darkness and the strings of scarce red light blinking from the alarm clock. 

"Good. I'm not that kind of bitch," he agrees. 

"Well. Goodnight." 

"Yeah, goodnight, shortcake." 

You roll your eyes at his nickname. Whether your short or tall isn't his concern, James calls you shortcake because he's very tall, and he holds that against you often like a schoolyard tease, papers held out of reach, your figurines hidden in alcoves or on top of cabinets.

You turn onto your favoured side and try not to care that you're facing him. James falls asleep first, his breath slowing until a snore emerges, his weight dipping the cheap mattress. Combined with your own, you start to slide toward one another. 

Fucks sake, you think, edging back. 

Space reestablished between you, you close your eyes and try not to think about what he looks like when he sleeps. As you nod off, you feel the soft skin of a hand curling around your forearm. A quarter circle rubbed into your pulse. 

— 

James wakes first, and he is Oh so thankful. He isn't a pervert, he swears, he has no idea why he's curled around you like this. Hugging your arm to his chest like a teddy, his face curved downward, his nose pressed to your forehead, he wakes and he panics hard. 

You aren't touching him back. Sunlight filters in through shitty translucent blinds and kisses your unassuming face, your lashes lightened, your lips pointed down in sleep. He worries something's upsetting you while you doze. He bites his tongue. 

It's none of his business. None of his business why you're having a restless morning. 

James twists and lets your arm fall naturally back onto the sheets, squinting in the sun at the alarm clock. It's barely five AM. You needn't wake for another two hours but you will, if you keep frowning. 

James holds his breath. Carefully, he settles back onto his side facing you and cups your face. It feels too intimate, too much. He pulls his hand away after half of a second, opting to take your hand again instead. 

He's seen you cry before. Bloody hands and knees, humiliated and cold, you'd sniffled on the steps leading into the office and asked him not to tell anyone. Remus and Sirius know everything there is to know about James. His genuine but waning dislike for you, his budding crush. And yet, after pretty much a lifetime telling them every secret he'd ever come into contact with, James didn't tell them about that. He gave you the packet of tissues from his pocket, and he told you a lie about falling in the exact same place a year before you started working with them. 

The expression you gave him then is the same you wear now as he rubs the palm of your hand with his index fingers. You're comforted. Your unseen unhappiness abates.

James falls asleep like that, drawing shapes into your hand. 

—

i love him i want him to be my office frenemy. ty for reading!! pls reblog if u enjoyed it means so much to me!

[ddejavvu]

Hey Mei 🫶

Here’s my idea - BAU!wife who yells at Hotch when he yells at their team members because she’s a protective momma bear. And hotch secretly loves it because his wife yelling gets him all hot and bothered.

Love you 🫶 and your writing thank you 🧡

Perhaps it's an unwise idea to pick a fight with your surly husband, especially because he doubles as your surly boss. But Spencer hadn't even been that late, and you know he only walked in late because he takes public transportation, and he couldn't control that the bus was late. And, Aaron's only in such a sour mood because Jack had given him typical teenage attitude before school this morning. So really, Spencer didn't deserve the near-shouted lecture he'd gotten.

You march over to the young doctor's desk, happy that his aversion to touch applies to people he's not familiar with. He leans into your stomach when you pull his head to rest on it, albeit stiffly, and you call after your husband with narrowed, fierce eyes.

"Aaron, come back here right now and apologize." You demand, and the already icy mood in the office shifts a few degrees colder. Aaron stops on the stairs and by the tightness of his shoulders he's composing himself, then he turns on his heel and raises a thick brow at you.

"What?"

"He didn't deserve that," You scold him, keeping Spencer's head cradled to your stomach as you stroke down his back, "He's a baby."

Aaron rolls his eyes, "He is not a baby, Y/N. He's a grown man with a government job, and I expect him to show up to it on time."

"He does! He's early every single other day," You remind him, "But the bus came late today! How was he supposed to get here? Uber? You know he doesn't know how to download new apps! Let alone link his bank account to pay the guy. He was seven minutes late, for fuck's sake, just leave him alone!"

Aaron looks like he wants to snap. You've gnashed your teeth at him, and he's lived the life of a fighting dog thus far, so you know you're treading in dangerous waters. But after a rather intense stare down in which you feel Spencer's face heating up through the fabric of your shirt, your husband swallows his pride and mutters, "I expect you in my office within five minutes, Y/N."

Spencer mumbles some feeble protest on your behalf but you pat his back to shush him, letting go so that he can straighten up again.

"Don't worry," You send him a warm smile, "I can handle him. Call me if you ever need a ride again, okay? We can come pick you up."

"Okay." He nods, but it's most likely only to deter you from pampering him with any more motherly affection, as he looks like he's going to wilt from it, "Thanks, Y/N."

"Anytime," You squeeze his shoulder, passing your concerned teammates unbothered smiles as you make your way to Aaron's office.

He's only recently sat down when you arrive, but you notice that he's conveniently sitting so that the desk blocks your view of his lower half. You stand at attention in front of his desk, playing coy like you don't know what's coming next.

"Do you enjoy questioning my authority in front of my team?" He asks you, voice carefully even and tight.

"I enjoy doing anything that makes your dick twitch, Aaron." You announce, your tone deceptively casual for the filth you're spewing, "Did you haul me in here to fuck me over the desk? The blinds are still open, don't you think that's a little distasteful?"

Your attitude only makes him more uncomfortably aroused, and he regrets getting his suits tailored so precisely, as his pants have little give. He leans forwards across his desk, dark eyes boring into yours.

"No. I hauled you in here to tell you that I'm going to fuck you over the desk. But not yet. You're asking for it now, so I'm not giving it to you. Maybe if you'd been a little more polite, I'd have given you what you wanted. But now you're going to wait, because you decided to bicker with me over the rules of this office. Rules that I set, because I am in charge of keeping this team on track."

The harsh tone of his voice makes your stomach twist, and you're feeling your heartbeat in two places. You stand there, saliva slowly accumulating on your tongue, until he raises a brow at you, unimpressed.

"Don't do that again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." You lay on the formality hot and heavy, practically purring it and watching as he shifts slightly in his seat, "I'll be waiting, whenever you decide you can't take it anymore."

"Careful." He snaps, eyes ablaze at your implication that he'll be the one to break, "Don't dig yourself any deeper. Dismissed."

You turn to leave with a satisfied smirk on your face, and perhaps you exaggerate bending over to pick up a stray paperclip that you notice on the floor by his door.

"Here," You pad back across the room to hand it to him, not missing the way that he's tense all over, "See you in twenty, Hotchner."

[blue-devil-of-the-lord]

i'm so happy you're writing for nightcrawler! he's my favorite and its criminal how little fanfic there is of him out there. could i request a slight hurt/comfort fic? kurt has a habit of sitting in the dark in the mansion (its quiet and peaceful for him), and fem!reader finds him up late one night. kurt is completely enamored with reader, so he doesn't want to burden her with his problems, but she gets kurt talking and slowly finds out that the bad memories of his past are keeping him up. kurt walks reader back to her room, and she tells him that if he ever wanted to talk or needed someone, she was there for him. kurt takes her hand, kisses it, and cant resist saying that merely being around her was enough for him to rest easy that night.

i'm sorry this was so long! thank you!

And only the stars will know

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1.9K Warnings: slight hurt/comfort, but very faint A/N: Thanks so much for requesting. I feel like I didn't quite get the tone but I hope you like it anyway :)

It was a cold, starry night, the kind of night when you prefer to wrap yourself in a blanket, a hot drink in your hand and stare at the night sky from the windowsill. She was wrapped in a blanket, but she was a long way from her bed as she leaned against the doorframe to the balcony.

Her original plan had been to rush to her classroom and retrieve the papers she had left there, but the cool breeze in the corridors had distracted her from her plan.

Thinking someone had left a window open, she had followed the cold, even though her shivering body protested strongly against it, and ended up at the balcony. The doors were slightly ajar, leading her to think, as she had previously assumed, that one of the students had simply forgotten to close them.

However, just as she put her hand on the handle, she thought she recognized a person in the pale moonlight.

It was hard to make out, at first she thought she was imagining it, but when the clouds cleared the moon for a moment, she could clearly make out the outline of a person. A very familiar person.

She knew he was capable of it, after all, he had explained it to her, but it was the first time she had really experienced Kurt's ability to merge with the shadows and the darkness. Now that she knew he was sitting on the railing of the balcony, she could spot him, but she still had to make an effort to actually see him. Normally she would have spoken to him, but she didn't recognize the usually cheeky, flirtatious man, which had made her pause at the door frame.

Kurt had pulled his legs close to his body and hidden his head in his folded arms. His tail, which usually curled and swung back and forth in a bold and amused manner, was wrapped tightly around his body and didn't move a bit.

He must have been sitting out here for some time, because his body had started to shiver a few minutes after she found him and she couldn't stand it any longer. She carefully pushed the door open further, giving a soft squeak, but he didn't react, causing the worry line on her forehead to deepen, as he was usually so attentive. She shuffled quietly across the balcony, the stone icy cold beneath her bare feet, but he only noticed her when she carefully placed the blanket that had warmed her earlier around his shoulders.

He flinched and looked at her with wide, golden eyes, which she returned with a slight smile. She noticed that it was instantly easier for her to recognize him, as if he was making a conscious effort to remain visible.

„Meine Liebe, why are you still awake?" Her smile widened when she heard the nickname he honored her with. It wasn't much and in a language she didn't really speak, but it made her heart beat faster every time. "I could ask you the same thing, Kurt." She climbed carefully onto the railing next to him, careful not to fall. He seemed to have the same concern, as once she was seated, his tail detached itself from its place around his legs and wrapped itself around her waist.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied anyway, leaning forward slightly and adjusting the blanket so that it completely enveloped Kurt. It was only when she leaned back again that she noticed he had one arm hovering around her shoulders in case she lost her balance. Her smile softened and when he withdrew his arm, she reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "And you, honey?"

Kurt let his eyes wander over her face for a moment before turning them skywards. "Same with me." That answer shouldn't have worried her as much as it did. It wasn't like him to answer so curtly or to avoid her gaze. Thinking back to her conversations with Kurt, she couldn't remember him ever letting his eyes wander far from her.

Still, she tried not to be too pressuring and instead attempted humor. "I doubt that. You don't need to read twenty-two essays on Shakespeare to deprive you of sleep." That elicited a slight smirk from him, but it didn't come close to the broad smile she was used to seeing from him. "Not quite, no."

Kurt pulled the blanket into place and she felt the grip of his tail tighten a little around her hips, but said nothing, just watched him in silence. His hands were in his lap and she could see that he was wringing them, apparently not knowing what to do with them. Her eyes traveled up over his tense posture to his face.

His mouth, usually twisted into a toothy smile, was now nothing more than a barely recognizable line and his eyes, usually glowing with energy, looked dull and sad. She couldn't bear to look at him. Kurt was important to her, one of the most important people in her life, and seeing him like this broke her heart.

"Kurt?" Her voice was soft and tentative and he didn't look directly at her, but when he did, his face looked tired, exhausted and resigned. Slowly, so that he had enough time to pull back, she lifted her hand and brushed a few strands of hair from his face before resting her hand on his cheek. "You know you can talk to me? If there's something on your mind... I'm here for you."

For a brief moment, his features softened and he smiled, just slightly but it was a genuine smile. "I know, meine Liebe. It's just a few bad memories. Nothing to burden your mind with." Gently, she let her hand move from his cheek to his hand so that she was now holding both of them in hers.

"Shouldn't it be up to me to decide?"?“

Kurt was silent for a long time and she almost thought he was going to turn away, but he let out a deep, almost sad chuckle and shook his head. "God, you're one of a kind, aren't you? What did I do to deserve the honor of your attention?"

"There was nothing to earn," she whispered. "It was yours from the beginning."

This seemed to leave him speechless for a moment, but when he caught himself, his expression softened, the worry line gone. "It was just a few bad memories," he explained and it took her a moment to realize that he was answering her previous question. "Usually they can't hurt me, but sometimes-"

"-they just come up, no matter how much you've distanced yourself from them," she finished his broken sentence and Kurt nodded slightly.

„Ja.“ His eyes wandered from her face to the lands of the Xavier Institute. "I have found my role, my place, in this world. I am surrounded by people who accept me for who I am, love me for who I am." For a few seconds, his gaze flickered over to her. "But that wasn't always the case."

That sad look she couldn't stand came into his eyes again and he withdrew his hands. "I was fine for a while, in the circus. They may not have all loved me, but I was accepted and respected. That was all I wanted. But outside-" His tail loosened from her hip and curled around his drawn-on legs again.

"Monster, they called me. Freak. Spawn of hell. Abominable. Dangerous..." She curled her fingers into her thighs. Kurt didn't deserve this kind of treatment. He was an angel, wonderful and magnificent, and the fact that people didn't treat him like this infuriated her.

Kurt let out a gasp. "I know none of this is true. I'm not a monster, not a spawn of hell, not abominable, but..."

"It still hurts." He nodded and she felt her heart break in her chest. "Oh Kurt..." She didn't care that they were sitting on the railing of a balcony that hovered several meters above the ground, but acted on instinct.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the blue mutant. He froze for a few seconds, but quickly recovered from his shock.

Under her touch, she could feel him relax and bury his face in her hair while his hands clawed at her back. It didn't hurt, but even if it did, she wouldn't say anything. Something slowly wrapped around her middle and it took her a little too long to realize it was his tail.

"You don't deserve this. You least of all of us," she murmured into his chest and felt his grip on her tighten. "You're a wonderful person, an angel, and I'm very grateful to know you." There was silence between them, though neither of them was uncomfortable. She snuggled against him as he buried his face in her hair and his arms and tail wrapped around her.

The softly breathed "thank you" was carried away by the wind, but she heard it anyway and wrapped her arms around him even tighter. If it had been a warmer night, she could have stayed in his arms for hours, but this night was cold and she soon began to shiver, despite the warmth radiating from Kurt's body.

At first she tried to suppress it, not wanting to let the moment go, but over time her trembling became so bad that Kurt noticed it as well and broke away from her, eliciting a complaining whimper from her. He, however, paid no attention and just looked at her with wide, worried eyes. "Meine Liebe, you're freezing to death. Why are you wearing such thin clothes?"

"It wasn't really the plan to go out," she confessed through chattering teeth and Kurt swung himself elegantly from the railing to offer her his hand. She gratefully accepted it and as soon as her feet touched the cold ground, she felt something warm envelop her.

Kurt had put the blanket back around her shoulders as well as wrapping his arm around her middle. He smiled down at her and finally he looked the way she knew he would - wide, fang-toothed smile, bright eyes and a curling tail.

"Come on, my dear, let's go inside. After all, I can't risk my favorite person catching a cold, can I?" She grinned slightly and really hoped he couldn't see the blush in her cheeks. From his smile, he very well could. " Don't let Rogue hear you say that."

He chuckled softly and led her through the hallways to her room. She stopped in front of her door, the blanket wrapped tightly around her, and looked up at him as he began to melt into the shadows again, though this time she had no trouble spotting him.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured with a smile and she lightly smiled.

"You too. And Kurt?" she called back to him as he tried to turn around. Her smile turned a little sheepish.

"If you have bad dreams again or are plagued by bad memories... My door is open to you. Any time."

Kurt's smile widened and his tail curled slightly at the tip as he carefully took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "Don't worry, meine Liebe." He looked up at her through his lashes and his gaze was so soft and appealing at the same time that she felt like she would instantly burst. "

Just this time near you will be enough to keep me from having bad dreams for the next few weeks."

He gently let go of her hand, winked at her and disappeared into a dark cloud with a slight 'bamf'.

Frozen, blushing heavily, she stood there and looked at the spot where Kurt had been standing before she chuckled softly and turned towards her room. God, this man....

[bel1ewrites]

Booth Five (Sam Carpenter x Reader)

A/n: Here's another one, love you guys.

WC: Idfk

Warnings: smut, top!Sam, bossyish!reader, slightly public sex, thigh riding, more thigh riding, Sam in fancy work clothes

NUMEROUS visits to her favorite place after a long, hard day of work had forced Sam's ears to grow accustomed to the deafening thunder of sensual music that pumped through the hazy club.

Ever since the very first week of her new life in the the city, Sam had made sure to become somewhat of a regular at The Vanity. She made sure to commit each and every worker to memory, even went out of her way to tip a little extra every visit. It was just who she was. She loved to pay attention, and she loved to be aware.

She did not, however, love to be confused.

From her spot on a cracked leather couch, she sits with a drink in her hand, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, and she watches you move. The colored lights run over your body like waves on a shore, black lace the only thing stopping you from being fully exposed. It's euphoric, the way you move. It's familiar and free, icy hot. Sam takes a pull of her drink.

------

"You've got a private booking, honey," your boss calls as you fuss with your hair in the vanity mirror. She's a firecracker of a woman, short and curvy. The voice of a smoker mixed with the tone of a caretaker. "Booth five."

It hadn't taken you long to understand the inner workings of your place of employment. Annoyingly, nothing was ever straightforward, and booth five was not an exception to this rule.

You'd learned that an hour with one of the dancers in booth five had to cost more than your rent; which, albeit, didn't say much. It was the coldest spot in the whole club, nothing but dark red walls and a single black couch, and you couldn't really tell if it was the air vents or the dark aura that made you shiver when you passed it.

This is the first time anyone has requested for you to be in there.

"Um," your voice is steady as you turn around, smoothing a hand over non existent fabric out of nervous habit, "Is it cool if Amber takes this one?"

A beat passes.

"The patron requested for it to be you." If she notices the way your heart drops, she doesn't mention it. Only smiles crookedly and nods, effectively dismissing you from the comfort of being alone.

The beat of your heart doubles that of the music as you walk out of the room, a little unsure and a little irratic. Your heels feel too tall, your chest too tight.

Dancing was different. Dancing didn't bring forth any unwanted social interaction. Sure, there was the occasional creep, but they never really bothered you much when you could tune them out with thoughts of being beneath your covers with hot Chinese food and your cat curled up on your lap.

This was intimate. This was private and there was really no practical way of getting out of it.

You're sure you're going to pass out when you reach the outside of the booth, nothing but a thin curtain separating you from the unknown man waiting inside. Is he married? Is he demanding? Does he expect anything more than a lap dance from you?

A job is a job, you remind yourself, breathing deeply once, twice before stepping inside.

The air is charged. Static pulses around you. So its a woman. There's a woman a few feet in front of you.

She sits there, back against the couch and legs spread like she owns the place, shirt slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. She's tall and dark and has the look of someone who's grown accustomed to getting what she wants one way or another. Her eyes drop down your figure, lingering at certain parts unabashedly. They run over every inch of you slowly, methodically. She wets her lips.

"Hello." She speaks. Her voice is fire and ice. It's raspy and smooth, dark and calculated and so insanely perfect that it makes your ears ring a little.

It's your turn to say something, anything, really. You really do try to greet her, even open your mouth for a second before promptly shutting it again.

"It's reasonable to expect a greeting after one says hello, is it not?" Her brow raises. It seems that all it takes for you to gain your composure is a little confrontation.

You close the still open door and take a step forward, trapping a palpable tension in the room along with the sound of muffled music.

"Sorry about that, I just wasn't expecting... this." Amusement flashes in her eyes. "You weren't expecting a woman?" She questions, patting the space beside her and signaling for you to sit.

There's room for her to scoot over and create a comfortable amount of space between your bodies, but that doesn't seem like something she wants.

Your body moves without your mind's consent, "no, I wasnt," you answer, taking your seat.

She hums, the scent of her cologne wafting over you like a drug. "Disappointed?" she asks, bottom lip puffed out in a teasing pout.

The couch is cold beneath you, but that doesn't stop the fire from rushing to your cheeks. Nervously, you run a hand through your hair and smile, trying not to let her undeniable smoothness get in the way of yours.

"Oh, hardly," you let out a raspy huff of laughter and you can't help the way your eyes flit to her mouth.

A smirk tugs at her lips, pout dropping entirely. "Well aren't you fiery."

"Why did you ask for me?" you pry, gaze hooded.

"Why wouldn't I?" She questions, tone serious and eyes on yours. The air feels thick around you.

She truly is a beautiful woman, silky black hair and dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes. The muscles in her arms pull at the fabric surrounding them. You suddenly feel underdressed.

"Amber normally takes this booth," you offer truthfully.

Amber was a favorite amongst the club. She was all dark smiles and sinful moves. You appreciated her for her wit and ability to seem completely calm at all times; a skill you wish you had.

Her hand drops to the bare flesh of your upper thigh. "I didn't ask for Amber, did I?"

Sam had interacted with the girl numerous times. She'd been working here since that first night and was undoubtedly beautiful, but she didn't feel drawn to Amber like she did you. Her body didn't light up when she saw her like it did with you. You were different.

"What's your name?" you pry.

The heat of her gaze along with that of her palm on your thigh sends jolts down your spine. You can see the muscles in her jaw move as she grits her teeth, swallowing hard.

"Sam."

"Why did you ask for me?" you ask again, eyes on her dark and blown pupils. Your own gaze is hooded, lashes low as you look up at her.

She smiles wolfishly, teeth flashing. "Can't a girl want to get to know someone?"

"Well," you look down at her mouth, "I guess when you put it that way."

The air around you seemed to grow thick, tension lacing through it. Her aura was intoxicating, the way it consumed you so quickly, made you want to give her everything.

She hums, tightening her grip on your thigh, "For such a pretty girl you sure do ask a lot of questions," the words fall from her lips, tone low and dripping with want.

"Yeah?" You smile.

"Yes." She shoots back.

"Really?"

She ignores you, looking at you so intensely you almost think you did something wrong.

"Can I kiss you?"

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you can't help it. When she kisses you it's softer than you expect it to be, like she's testing the waters. Her hand runs up your thighs, teases its way to your hip and squeezes the flesh there. It makes your head spin and your heart race, heat settling in your lower stomach.

Teeth graze your bottom lip as she pulls back a little. "Come here," The woman breathes into your mouth. She guides you onto her lap, smiling and leaning further into the couch. You have to arch forward to kiss her again, something that isn't an accident on her part.

Hands grip at your waist, your hips, your ass. She's deepening the kiss like it's pushing life into her and she can't get enough. it's a needy, panting scene as her lips and tongue slide over yours.

She kisses you like you've never been kissed, skill and need intertwining into a moment that makes you dizzy. She's all soft lips and rough teeth, nipping and sucking and soothing.

The musky scent of her cologne messes with your head and you can't stop your hips from moving, seeking pressure to tame the heat inside of you.

She trails her lips down to your neck, hand pulling at your hair to tilt your head back. "That's it, baby," Sam coos, teeth scraping under your jaw, "use my leg." She shifts the two of you before you can do anything, moving you to straddle her thigh. Her lips latch onto a sensitive spot on your neck as she pushes her leg up and into you.

"Fuck," you gasp out, gripping her shoulders and arching further into her. The position gives her mouth easy access to your chest.

The fabric of your lace bra is easy for her to move to the side, baring your hardened nipple to her.

"You're so pretty," She groans beneath you, pressing her tongue to the sensitive bud.

Pleasure shoots through you and you suppress a moan at the feeling of her skilled mouth against you. She's pulling at your hips, guiding their movements as you rock into her. It's hard to remember where you are, how any of your coworkers can walk in if they want to. All you can think about is how muscular her leg is through her pants as it presses into your clit in just the right way, how strong her hands are as they grasp at your body like it's her lifeline.

It's almost embarrassing, how worked up this stranger has you. She's touching you like she knows your body, and you can feel your wetness soaking through your fabric. Truth be told, you'd been wet since she first spoke, voice smokey and addicting.

She sucks your tit into her mouth, tongue lashing at your nipple and you have to push her away before you get loud. She protests as you send her back to leaning against the couch, but ultimately keeps quiet when you bury your head in her neck to muffle your moans.

"That's it, just like that pretty girl," She whispers in your ear while you grind against her, leg rubbing your clit just right each time. "You sound so pretty."

Needy whines and sighs escape your throat, lips pressed to her neck while she pushes her thigh harder into you. She hums at the feeling, sound deep and rasped.

You would be disappointed in yourself for being so close this fast, and over the clothes no less, but you can't feel anything other than the pressure in your lower stomach building and building.

"It's so good," you admit breathily into her neck, nails digging into her upper back through the button up. You can feel the firm muscles there, and you can't help but picture them rippling as she fucks you.

"What's so good?" she asks like she already knows the answer.

Her voice sends you spiraling further, the almost taunting tone laced in her words. "The way you touch me."

She laughs lowly, "Oh? You close?" Her head turns as she presses a kiss to your cheek, you pull your head out of her neck and look her in the eyes.

"Use your hand," you order, grabbing her right wrist and dragging it towards where you want it.

The look that washes over her almost pushes you over the edge, the way she listens to your command and presses her fingertips to your clit.

The texture of the fabric rubbing against you feels overwhelmingly good, tension building in your body. You watch her with your eyes half open and your lips parted, watch as she drinks you in with her eyes.

Everything about her is skilled, the way she moves her hand in hard circles and pushes into you. Her free hand wraps around your neck gently and pushes you back a bit so that she can see more of you, your free nipple and the blush spreading across your chest. The action combined with the slight pressure on your neck makes your eyes roll back, a curse falling from your lips.

"Faster. Fuck, Sam," you tilt your head back and move with her hand, "I'm so close."

She listens so good, movements speeding up just how you asked. It feels so good, the warmth spreading throughout your body and coiling in your stomach. You're panting needily, orgasm rushing towards you, its presence overbearing.

"So bossy," She teases.

A slew of words grace your lips, body falling forward to mask the volume of your moans in the crook of her neck. She moves with precision, never once slowing down or faltering.

"Come on, baby," She urges, "cum on my hand."

It only takes a few more movements before you're doing just that, body tensing up and shuddering above her. The orgasm hits you like a bullet train and drags itself out, lasting longer than any other you'd ever had.

The feeling of her arm around your back, fingers still moving on your clit to guide you through makes it last longer. Her voice is in your head, grounding you as she whispers.

Her hand is gone from your clit and her neck is sweaty from the combined body heat by the time you pull back, shaking slightly. The reality of the situation doesn't hit you, just lingers in the back of your mind as you look at her.

"Hi," you say, hair sticking to your forehead slightly.

"Hi," She smiles sweetly back. "Sorry about the hickeys, I got a little carried away."

Your nipple hurts a little from the intensity with which she sucked at it, and you know your neck is riddled with marks.

"It's okay," you smile back, "but you'll have to be the one to let my boss know where they came from."

Her smile turns sheepish, though you can tell she doesn't regret leaving them. "Only if I can see you again," her arms tighten around your waist, lips brushing yours.

"Deal."

[slayfics]

You know how you did You get caught trying to sneak into Katsuki’s room. Can you do a reverse one? Like, one where the guys get caught sneaking into the readers room? I feel like it be a chaotic mess and super funny lol 😂

Katsuki gets caught sneaking into your room.

Chapter links

Chapter Two

"Man, are you sure we won't get caught?" Eijiro said, following Katsuki reluctantly to the girl's side of the dorms.

"We will if you keep complaining so loud shitty hair!" Katsuki barked back at him.

"Sorry, I'm just nervous, you know?" Eijiro said in a much quieter voice.

"It's fine, trust me," Katsuki reassured his friend. "Besides, they both miserably failed and got caught by Iida last time so- it has to be us to sneak over this time," Katsuki explained as he hit the button for the girl's elevator.

Eijiro laughed at the thought of the girls getting scolded by Iida for trying to sneak into the boy's dorms, "It makes it easier that both of our girls are on the same floor, hu?" Eijiro said, smiling at his friend.

"I guess. It doesn't matter either way. We're not going to get caught like they did!" Finally, the elevator dinged open. However, to Katsuki's and Eijiro's surprise, it was not empty.

"Oh, um- hi," Shoto greeted the two boys, surprised to see them waiting for the girl's elevator.

"The hell are you doing here, Icy Hot?!" Katsuki asked.

"I'm just leaving from studying with Yayarozu," he answered.

"Studyinggg~ right," Eijiro said, laughing.

Shoto looked at Eijiro, confused by his statement.

Katsuki let out an annoyed huff, "Well, get out of the damn elevator then," he demanded.

"Oh- actually I forgot to give her back her book so- I was going to go back up," Shoto said, holding and pointing to a book in his hand.

"Well, guess we are all going up then," Eijiro said, cheerfully stepping into the elevator.

"Ugh- fine," Katsuki groaned and stepped in.

"Where are you two going?" Shoto asked as he waited to hear what button to press for everyone.

"None of your damn business!" Katsuki yelled.

At the same time, Eijiro politely said, "Fourth floor please."

"God damn it shitty hair!" Katsuki yelled.

"It's fine- I'm not going to say anything," Shoto said. "But um- what are you two doing up here this late?"

"Studying!" Eijiro answered too hastily, voice filled with anxiety. However, Shoto didn't question the two boys' motives any further.

"The fuck?" Katsuki remarked as the elevator stopped and dinged on the third floor.

"Oh- someone is getting in," Shoto mused.

The three boys stood uncomfortably in the elevator as the doors opened and revealed Denki on the third floor.

"Ohhhh~ hey you guys! What are you all doing here, hmm?" he said, giving the boys a wink.

"Shut the hell up and get in Dunce Face!" Katsuki yelled.

"Why are you acting so weird?" Shoto asked.

Denki just laughed and entered the elevator, then glanced over at the buttons.

"Hmm ok, so the fourth and fifth floor. I think I can guess what rooms everyone's headed to," He teased.

"Hey man, don't make it weird, ok?" Eijiro pleaded.

"What's weird about studying?" Shoto asked.

"Uh," Denki murmured, but before he could make a comment Katsuki intervened.

"Where the hell were you anyway?" Katsuki asked.

"I think it's only Jiro and Hagakure on the third floor, so- my guess is Jiro?" Eijiro said, turning to his friend.

Before Denki could confirm or deny, the elevator opened up to the fourth floor.

"Finally, I can get away from you morons," Katsuki grumbled, but before he could step out, Izuku came from around the corner and crashed into him.

"THE HELL?!" Katsuki hollered.

"Oh! Kacchan! I'm sorry!" Izuku said, apologizing frantically.

"The fuck are you doing here, nerd?!" Katsuki questioned.

"I was just leaving! I was um- studying with Uraraka!" Izuku explained.

Denki laughed, "A lot of 'studying' going on tonight hu?"

"UH- I guess so. Is that why you're all here?" Izuku asked.

"Yep! Just um- about to get started," Eijiro said, laughing nervously and rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's kind of late to just start studying, isn't it?" Izuku asked.

"Yeah, don't you think you guys should get some rest for training tomorrow?" Shoto asked.

"Are they for real right now?" Denki asked, holding in his laughter.

"Tch, probably," Katsuki exclaimed.

"Wait so- you two," Denki said, pointing to Izuku and Shoto, "Were actually studying?"

"What else would we be doing?" Shoto asked plainly.

Before Denki could make any more comments, the boys heard a loud bang followed by-

"Almost there, the forbidden lands~"

"Is it just me or- did that sound like Mineta in the vents?" Denki asked, looking between the boys.

"He never stops, hu?" Izuku said exhaustedly.

"Fucking perv!" Katsuki yelled and stalked over to the vent. "Yeah, that's him in there... Hey! Half and Half, heat up this vent!" Katsuki demanded.

"Won't that hurt him?" Shoto asked.

"Tch- nah it'll just teach him a lesson," Katsuki replied.

"Yeah besides, it's super unmanly to try and spy on girls in their private rooms," Eijiro convinced Todoroki further.

"I suppose you're right," Shoto said as he moved closer to the vent and shot some fire down, heating up the vent red hot in the process.

"OW!" Minoru's scream came ringing out of the vent.

Katsuki, Denki, and Kirishima burst out laughing.

"LAUGH ALL YOU WANT I'M CALLING AIZAWA AND BUSTING YOU GUYS FOR BEING AT THE GIRL'S DORM SO LATE!"

The boys exchanged glances with one another.

"BACK IN THE ELEVATOR GO!" Eijiro yelled, and they all hurried back in fear of being caught by Aizawa.

"Oh, this is bad!" Izuku exclaimed shaking in the back of the elevator.

"Come on Dunce Face! Press the fucking first floor already!" Katsuki yelled.

"I'm rushing, I'm rushing!" Denki said frantically, but as he pressed the button, his anxiety overtook him, causing him to pop off his quirk. A loud buzzing sound went off as the doors closed to the elevator and the lights shut off.

"YOU SHORT CIRCUITED THE ELEVATOR DUMB ASS!" Katsuki yelled.

"OH CRAP!" Denki yelled back in response.

"You guys! We are going to get caught!" Eijiro said, panicked.

Shoto sat in the corner of the elevator calmly.

Izuku panicked, mumbling to himself, "What do you think Aizawa will think? Surly, we were just studying so- that's fine, right? But it is 9pm, he might think that we were up to no good like Mineta bu-"

"SHUT UP NERD!" Katsuki barked.

"Hu, this is worse than the girls getting caught by Iida don't you think, Bakugo?" Eijiro laughed, finding comedy in the situation now.

"I'm going to murder every last one of you," Katsuki grumbled as he sat down on the floor, accepting his fate.

The other boys shrugged and gave in, waiting for their inevitable punishment from Aizawa.

Thank you for requesting a part two! I had a lot of fun with this!

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

[riaki]

winner | satoru gojo x reader

"i hate you."

three words that destroyed the very world satoru had spent building with you for the past nine months. his footing gives way beneath his feet and he can feel himself slipping, scrambling for purchase on an icy slope while your cold words bite at him like an icy, bitter wind.

his world is collapsing. it hurts to think, and it hurts to look at you, and the way you're looking at him hurts. like he's chewed gum on the bottom of your shoe, mangled and ugly.

you've always been easy on his eyes. god, it normally never hurts to look at you. the burden of his cursed gaze feels a little lighter when the world around him is brighter and sweeter and softer because of your pretty smile. suguru eats sweets to wash away the taste of cursed spirits, and you're the eye candy that relieves the migraines behind satoru's six eyes.

at least, you were.

the hot summer sun beats down against the cement of the sidewalk; the streets blur and waver with shimmers of heat and the mirages of puddles on the road. the two of you stand to the side, shirt pinched between your fingers as you fan yourself to try to alleviate the heat on your skin, wondering why you decided to go out today.

tokyo is hot during the summer. the value of yen is lower than normal, so tourist season swings about like a tsunami, flooding the streets with families and travelers who explore on the trail of their wanderlust. shibuya is crowded and there are foreign footprints all over akihabara. the cute shop awning you're standing under reminds you of a beach umbrella, but the image of hot white sand and pristine crystal waters only makes you feel dizzier with the heat.

satoru is used to the summer heat, and the complaining that comes with it. it doesn't help that lately, it's all that suguru ever talks about. he's starting to think he should've bought a popsicle for his best friend, too.

but then you speak again, and he's immediately snapped back into reality like a slap to the face; your voice drips with venom, normally so sweet but there's poison in your veins, polluting your heart.

"i can't believe you won. of all people." you complained.

satoru gets under your skin like no other.

satoru looks down at his popsicle; a baby blue, soda-flavored. everything seems to come with a soda flavor. icy sweetness melts away, dripping down the wooden stick and sliding over his fingers, blue against his skin like veins of sugar. he rubs his forehead, scowling and squinting. the heat is giving him a headache; the popsicle helped, but your angry glares make him want to hide in the freezer box you both picked your lucky desserts from.

his popsticle stick has one word etched into it; when he looks over at yours, it's just smooth, tanned wood. no marks.

'winner'. that's what it says on satoru's popsicle stick. suddenly, the syrup feels as sweet as strawberry jam in his mouth and the sour look on your face makes it all the better. an unabashed, unbridled grin spreads across his lips stained blue, shit-eating and awful and it only makes you despise your boyfriend more.

so that’s what you’re so pissed at him for. he looks like the cheshire cat with white fur and shades. suddenly, his world is right as rain again and everything is brighter when you look at him like you want to rip his guts out and cook them on the burning hot sidewalk. ah, true love.

he opens his mouth to speak, swiping his soda-stained tongue over his lips, reveling in the way your jaw clenches in irritation as your ice pop melts in your hands under the searing summer heat.

“well, guess we know who’s side the gods are on today—”

“shut up.”

satoru just grins, leaning in and pushing the hair away from your face to press a quick, syrup-flavored smooch to your forehead. the heat clings to your skin, but the little imprint of his lips on your skin leave a cool, tingling feeling that has you smiling, even though you hate that he won and you didn’t.

satoru gets under your skin like no other, and finds his way to your heart.

my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and / or plagiarize !

[mustainegf]

okay but what if like james and you where play fighting and tickling eachother and hes like "god i love your giggle" and you start making out while being all giggly and blushing together (I WORDES RHIS WRONG BUT OMGGG)

AWWWW DUDE

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ¹⁹⁸³

James and I giggled while we sat on his bed, with him going through his record collection to brag to me. James and I had known each other since junioryear, wed always been close, closer than most friends, but never THAT kind of close. At least not yet.

Our chemistry was obvious though, and if you couldn't tell by our constant giggles in class or the way we'd look at one another from across the room, well, that's just how much we liked each other.

And this time wasn't different.

We were sitting next to each other on his bed and we were having a great time. He found an old record and held it up.

It was Motorhead. "Look at this!" he said excitedly as he put it onto the record player and turned it on.

"This is so good." I nodded in agreement because it was very good.

"Fuckin' love Lemmy.." James smirked, bobbing his head to the song, he was so cute, just like a little puppy dog.

There's nothing cuter than a man who likes music.

Especially when that man looks like James does.

I playfully poke his side, making him smile and flinch. "You're so cute," I laugh.

He blushes a bit and tries to act cool about it.

"Yeah?" That damn boyish charm of his had me hooked, he knew what to do, he knew how to get me.

My heart was fluttering for some reason, and my body was getting hot, sweaty even. The more I stared into those blue eyes of his the more anxious I felt; the more anxious I got the hotter I got.

"Yeah," I chuckle, trying to blush off the feeling in my stomach. James responded with his fingers darting to my sides.

He tickles me until I can barely breathe. I yell and kick my feet, but he doesn't stop until I promise to let go. Then we both fall back onto the bed, still attacking each other playfully.

I giggle and shriek between laughs, trying my best to shove him off. "Stop it!" I gasp.

He responds by snickering and grabbing me tighter. My face is burning red from all the laughing and his grip is strong.

We both pant as we stare at each other, frozen now, gazes locked. "Hey..." James catches his breath, swallowing deeply as his cheeks begin to go pink.

I give him a quick nod. "Yeah... Hey.." My voice gets softer as we start breathing together, as our bodies connect, I feel myself sweating again. I don't know why I'm getting nervous all of a sudden.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, trying to figure out where things stand. His brow furrows, he thinks about his answer for a moment before answering.

"Just.. You." He smiles sheepishly, slightly blushing."... Me? Why?" I raise my eyebrows, shifting a little against him. "Cause you're my best friend... and um, you're really pretty." He admits shyly.

I smile softly, raising my hand to gently caress his cheek with the pad of my thumb. "James..." I whisper, gazing into those icy blue eyes.

He gives me a bashful grin, taking his hand to rub mine. His voice quivers with nervousness. "Y-yeah?" I lean forward and kiss him slowly, passionately.

The instant my lips touch his they part and we devour each other. He presses his lips harder against mine, moaning sweetly into my mouth. We move closer together and soon enough I feel his arms wrap around me.

We hold onto each other tightly as our tongues find each other. After a few minutes we break apart, breathing heavily, smiling innocently.

We sit there staring into each other's eyes. No words spoken. Just our hearts pounding. This whole thing feels so surreal right now.

A sly grin began to slip into his lips. James shifted from overtop of me, leaning to turn up the record before leaning back over me and finding my lips with his again. I could feel him smiling against my lips.

We continued kissing for a long time, exploring each other's mouths with our tongues. Eventually, we lay down beside each other, snuggling close under the covers.

After a while of laying there we realized that the album had finished playing. So James switched it over to Side B.

Before long we found ourselves tangled up in each other's arms once again. We kept kissing and caressing each other slowly, completely wrapped up in the passion of the moment.

I couldn't stop myself from giggling onto his lips, pulling back as the weight of what was going on finally hit me.

James looked worried. "Are you okay?" he asks nervously. I tried to calm myself down by taking deep breaths. "Yeah," I respond after a moment.

"I'm fine, I'm sorry. I just..." I pause and sigh.

"I can't believe we're doing this." I run my fingers through his soft blonde hair, noticing the brownish tint in it. "You're so beautiful." He whispers, sliding his hands over my arms.

I quickly peck his lips with a giggle. "So are you, Jamsie," I chuckle quietly.

He moves closer to me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and running his other hand across my chest. I scoot closer too, and we press our foreheads together as we lay there, lost in each other's gaze.

"I love you by the way..." James mumbled, slowly turning his head to look into my eyes.

It was too late to think before I told him. "I love you too." It came spilling out of my mouth before I could even register what I'd said. But when I did, I knew nothing else mattered but me and him.

[redr0sewrites]

Adam (or lute) with a really insecure S/o? like to the point of wearing baggy sweaters in extreme heat type. I imagine either of them having absolutely none of that-

ok but this is so real hello??? i love this request!!!

🥀Cw: angst to fluff, adam being adam

🥀Pairing(s): Adam x reader, Lute x reader

Adam:

adam isn't the most observant person in the world, so when he first met you, he didn't really notice anything strange about how insecure you are

adam fell hard and fast, and once you two were official, he began to notice the effort you put into hiding your body

he also noticed how, compared to him, you never bragged about yourself and you were always so self depricating

adam isn't very... empathic, and he sometimes has a hard time understanding your insecurities

adam doesn't understand why you don't love yourself- he thinks you're stunning and smart and gorgeous. how could you not see how wonderful you are?

he's mever been great at communicating, but he makes it a point to start reminding you how "fucking awesome" you are, and how lucky he is to be with you

when it comes to baggy and heavy clothes, adam doesn't care much about how you dress, moreso how you feel

he'll offer you his oversized shirts if it will make you more comfortable, but if you're deliberately overheating just to hide your body? no, that's not okay

thats probably when he'll pull you aside and ask whats up

while adam isn't great at explaining himself, he tries his best to articulate that he doesn't care what your body looks like or what you wear, as long as you're happy and comfortable

however, that also means he doesn't want you overheating or getting yourself sick, and will offer to just chill at home with you instead of going out

on days when you're feeling really insecure, adam will give you his robe to wear to make you feel more comfy, and will curl up with you on the couch in your shared apartment, far away from anyone else's prying eyes

adam just wants you to feel comfortable around him, and wants you to know that he loves you regardless of what you look like, but will never try to force you to be less insecure and will always try to make you more comfortable

even if he's a bit of an asshole and doesn't always understand, he's your asshole and you wouldn't have it any other way

Lute:

if you're datinh, lute worships the ground you walk on, she genuinely thinks you're perfect and doesn't understand how you could think otherwise

lute is also pretty observant and notices right away how insecure you seem to be

she takes it upon herself to compliments you often, not only on your looks, but on your skills and personality as well

lute doesn't show her body much either so she doesn't really care whether or not you do, but if you're hiding your body to the point where its genuinely harmful? nope. not gonna fly.

she's more mature than adam and would sit you down to have a conversation with you about how you feel

she doesn't want it to seem like a confrontation, she knows how sharp and rude she can appear and doesn't want her icy demeanor to scare you away

once she understands the situation a little better she offers genuine advice and is always very supportive

lute would invite you to go on walks with her, or to sit with her while she works out, and overall just offers to spend more time with you to work through any insecurities you may have

she doesn't want you to feel like you have to hide any part of yourself when around her, and will kiss every inch of your body and praise you to the moon and back until you understand that

lute wants you to stay safe and would fret if you overheated, as much as she wants you to be comfortable she also wants you to be healthy- physically and mentally

she understands that you don't want to purposefully overheat and doesn't blame you, but she is also pretty serious about you keeping yourself safe

on hot days you both mostly just stay home, and whenever you're feeling especially insecure she cooks you your comfort meal and chats with you to get your mind off things

i need them both this is not a drill. also what if i told you i had zestial x reader in my drafts huh. what then.

[httpiastri]

jack doohan x female reader, ft one lowkey 18+ joke

"don't you trust me?"

the question burns through jack's chest. the playful smile on your lips tells him that it's all just for fun, but still, there's something stinging about it. he wants to answer with an 'of course', or a 'with my entire life and heart', but he settles for something to match the tone of your voice. "do i have a choice?"

your answer comes in the form of a groan and an eye-roll, settling on the edge of the tub. "just lean back, loverboy."

loverboy. of course. how can he not follow your orders when you talk to him like that?

jack leans back against the wall of the bathtub, tipping his head back to rest his neck against the edge. it's much more uncomfortable than he'd thought, he soon realizes, but he hopes what's about to come is worth the pain.

your best friend has been sick for over a week now, with an annoying fever that seemingly just doesn't want to go down no matter what he tries. when you followed him to the doctors, they said everything looked alright and that he should be getting back to normal in just a few days. you're beginning to believe that that was complete bullshit, though.

you're pretty sure you're wishing for jack's fever to disappear as much as he is himself. not only do you not enjoy seeing him in such a bad state, but he also becomes such a baby when he's sick, as you've recently learned. it's not all that easy to take care of a tall australian manbaby, but someone needs to do it, you suppose. and who better than you?

the other day when you stopped by his apartment to refill his fridge with some necessities and cook him some soup, you just couldn't stop yourself from insulting the greasy hair he was sporting. he answered that he's not got enough energy to wash it properly when he showers, and in a moment of weakness, you found yourself offering to do it for him. so, here you are, showerhead in one hand as the other begins to slowly turn on the water.

you wait for the water to reach a good temperature, not icy but cold enough to hopefully soothe his burning scalp, before shifting to pour the water over his forehead and down over his hair. jack's first reaction is to let out a low hum, eyes fluttering closed at the chillness in comparison to his hot skin.

"you really are an angel, did you know that?" his accent has always had a certain effect on you, though you've always tried to deny it, and your heart skips a beat as he speaks again. "truly someone sent from above."

"shush," you say, shaking your head as you lean over to turn the water off, his hair being completely soaked by now. "just doing another part of my best friend duties."

"just as best-friendly as cooking for me for a week, and tucking me in for my naps, and..." he doesn't need to go on; you know how long the list is.

you reach for his bottle of shampoo – thankfully not a 3-in-1 type with body scrub and car wash included, but still a type that scares you a little – and pour some onto your hands, rubbing them together to spread out the liquid. "i'm just doing what i know you would do for me if i were in your position."

jack's eyes open when you start going through his hair, fingertips working their way across his scalp as you try to reach every inch of hair. he watches you with a thoughtful gaze, studying the concentration on your face intently. suddenly, he's reminded of why he's so goddamn smitten with you in the first place.

you're a total opposite of him – you're so soft. small, too. not just in size, but in personality as well. everything about you is warm and gentle; a huge contrast to his hard, rugged edges.

there's a feeling in his chest again. a tightening, fluttering sensation that feels strangely pleasant. one he's very familiar with by now, one that only appears around you.

it never takes much for your cheeks to grow red around him, and today is no exception. you think you've lasted a long time, though, with the way he's goggling up at you, but it's getting too much. "shut your eyes," you tell him. "you know i can't take it when you stare at me. i can't do my job."

he doesn't answer, and your heart flutters again. your fingers stop moving in his hair.

"i'm going to get shampoo in your eyes, they're going to sting."

"i don't mind."

it isn't until you tug on his hair, enough to go from relaxing to painful (though jack instead finds it quite arousing), that he finally obliges, eyes falling closed and a defeated sigh leaving his lips. "much better."

you begin to wash out the shampoo, and other than the sound of the water now dripping from his hair and onto the floor of the tub again, the room fills up with a hollow silence. he wants to speak up, but can't find any words – which are the right ones when the girl you like takes so much time out of her days to take care of you when you're at your lowest?

jack feels almost strangely... loved. the way that you're doing all of this for him, just because you want to make sure he feels good and clean. in reality, it's such a small gesture, yet it means something.

and a hint of anxiety settles into his chest at the realization that he's actually falling for you.

it's not just the silly little crush that's been brewing inside him for the last twelve months; it's something much more. and much scarier.

"are you kidding me? do you not have any conditioner?" your voice breaks his train of thought and he peeks at you with one eye, still slightly afraid of that whole shampoo-in-his-eyes threat. a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth when he sees the expression on your face, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows raised in pure shock.

"i guess you'll have to go shopping with me to buy a bottle, then."

anything to have a reason to spend more time with you.

[tofics]

Broken - Chapter 1

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Summary: A year has passed since Joel and Ellie have returned to Jackson when he finds you on patrol, half frozen and half burning up. Jackson takes you in and nurses you back to health, welcoming you as the newest member of their community. The more time passes, Joel realizes that you and him have more in common than he likes... Until one day, everything changes and you get a gift that he'll never get.

Word Count: 3964 words

Warnings: Cursing, near death experience, mention of blood, insomnia.

Chapter 1 - A Brush With Death

Joel didn't know there could be so many types of snow. Texas didn't get all that much of it, at least not where he lived. He'd seen his fair share of the white stuff when he lived in Boston, but somehow, snow is different out here in Jackson. It could have been just an illusion, that it had only seemed different because Boston was different, crowded and dirty and falling apart at the seams, whereas Jackson is open, wide and free and clean.

Whatever it is, snow feels different here. Today, the flakes are big and heavy, a lot more like rain but not yet quite like sleet. They're coming down in chunks, flakes stuck together in tiny little icy clumps that fall to the ground in quiet and wet, prickling thumps. It's not as enjoyable as the soft and powdery kind that came down during his patrol yesterday. The shreds of ice prick his skin as they get blown across his face where his bandana doesn't reach. He rubs a gloved hand over the slither of exposed skin, but it remains itchy, irritated by its icy attackers.

Joel grunts and squints through the white flurry. "Can't see a damn thing in this damn weather," he grumbles, but carries on regardless. His horse lazily trots through the snow. Joel can't help but wonder what the animal thinks about this weather. Probably having as much fun as I am, he thinks and runs his glove over his eyes again. Some snowflakes got caught in his eyelashes. He feels the icy flakes melt on his eyeballs as he rubs the glove back and forth and shudders. Not a pleasant sensation.

He trudges through the snow for a few more minutes, but it doesn't let up. If anything, it looks like it's getting worse, more and more flakes fluttering through the air until visibility drops below 20 feet. "Alright, that's enough." His voice comes out in puffs of hot air. Joel flicks his tongue and softly tugs on the left rein. His horse immediately obeys. They do a 180, careful not to slip off the road. There's no point in staying out here in weather like this. Not if I can't goddamn see, he thinks. Once they're turned around, things are a little better. With the wind on his back, the brim of his head provides enough protection from the flakes and they're no longer blowing straight into his eyes.

15 minutes later, he's made it about half-way back to Jackson. The snow is coming down so heavy and quick that his horse's tracks are nearly covered again, the sheet of white almost seeming as undisturbed as before. Joel scans his surroundings as they trot back, peering across the black and white landscape in search of anything out of the ordinary, but he finds nothing. Now that his sight is undisturbed, the scenery is almost hypnotizing. With the wind on his back, the soft falling of the heavy flakes mixes into a soothing background noise. He notices his eye-lids getting heavy, straining to stay open as they run over white and more white, an endless canvas of the same coated trees and bushes.

It's no wonder then that he almost misses the set of tracks that cross his own in the snow, slurry and less precise than his horse's hoofmarks on the ground. It feels like a trick of his eyes at first, but Joel's instincts have had too many years of training. He perks up and flicks his tongue again, softly tugging on the reins so his four-legged companion stills. Joel peers down at the ground, inspecting the tracks. They're fresher than his own; the flakes didn't have enough time to fill the gaps on the snowy surface yet.

He slides the rifle off his shoulder as his eyes follow the tracks to the bushes on his left. Awaiting an attack, his gloved finger has already wandered down to the trigger, but he doesn't shoot right away. "What in the...?" His question hangs in the air along with little clouds of hot breath. What the hell am I lookin' at?

It's hard to make out at first. Animal? It's big and lumpy, but the contortions don't fit anything he's ever seen. Its coat is puffy and bloated and white, blending in it with its surroundings almost too easily. Joel's eyes travel over the unfamiliar creature until he suddenly realizes what he's looking at. "Aw, shit!" The curse comes out in a hiss as he slides off his horse.

What he thought to be an animal at first is nothing less than a human. He approaches the lump on the ground with a raised rifle, pointed at what he now makes out to be the head. This could be a trap, a voice inside him thinks, but something tells him it's not. It's nothing more than a gut feeling, but he still approaches the figure carefully.

"Hey." The person on the ground doesn't respond, doesn't even stir. "Hey," he repeats, this time a little louder. He nudges his foot against what he judges to be a leg, but again, there is no response. His gut and brain discuss for a moment before he leans down. In one swift motion, he's removed one of his gloves and shoved his hand into the fur that encircles the head. Immediately, he can tell that his gut was right. Heat simmers below the person's coat like a hot furnace. His cold fingers run over the naked skin until he finds the spot just below the chin.

A breath of relief leaves him when he feels a pulse softly thrumming against his fingertips, but it's weak. Carefully, he lifts the head and gently turns it so he can look at the face. It belongs to a woman, pale and ashen, tinging on blue. It's the look of someone who has no time to waste. "Alright," he mutters and hoists his rifle again before he places one arm under the woman's torso, his other wrapping around it firmly from above. "C'mere." He grunts as he attempts to lift her body off of the ground. She can't weigh much, but the angle is awkward and his shoes don't have much tract in the snow.

It takes him a couple of tries, but eventually, he manages to heave the limp body across his saddle. Once it stays up, he awkwardly climbs into the settle behind the woman. Her legs are dangling off to one side, her arms and head to the other. It's not ideal, but it'll have to do. "C'mon!" He kicks his horse's sides and they dash off, back towards Jackson, back to where there's doctors and medicine. He just hopes it's not too late.

You come to with a gasp, eyes flying open as your torso shoots upwards. Your first few moments of consciousness are overwhelming, a complete chaos of blurry vision, a dizziness that's threatening to push you over and the drumming of your own pulse in your ears, loud and deafening over the frequent beeping noises in the background. Your fingers dig into the material of the surface beneath you, a frantic search of something familiar, something that'll tell you where you are, something to steady you.

Before you've had any time to adjust, something's touching your shoulder, followed by a pressure that's pushing you backwards. You panic and grasp at the things that are forcing you down before realizing they are hands, but the realization doesn't slow your panic, it only fuels it. You flail, fighting against your attacker with flying limbs, scratching and screaming and putting everything in it that you've got. There's a sharp pull in the crook of your right arm, but you don't relent, determined to fight off your assailant.

Despite your strenuous attempt, you lose the fight and fall backwards. As your head slams backwards, your world suddenly regains focus, as if someone turned up the sharpening setting in one swift go. The dizziness remains, but despite your blood still rushing in your ears, you can also hear a voice.

"It's okay! You're okay! You're safe!"

You blink rapidly a few times. Your eyes are swimming in and out of focus before they settle on the person in front of you. It's a man dressed in faded blue scrubs. The arms that are pinning you down are his arms, but despite the threatening gesture, his face is full of concern, not threat. You slowly take in your surroundings as you catch your breath. You appear to be in a hospital room of sorts. It's got all the equipment that comes with the territory, beeping machines and all, which you realize are the source of the frantic beeping you heard just seconds ago; their rhythm gradually slowing as your breathing becomes more steady.

The man holding you down releases his grip on your shoulders and moves around your bed to your other side. You follow his movements closely and jerk back when he reaches for your right arm. In response, he takes a step back, hands raised.

"I just wanna help. Can I do that?" He points to your arm when you don't respond. Your eyes briefly flit down to follow his finger. There's blood leaking out of the crook of your arm; the bloody needle of an IV dangling on your bed's railing not far off. Must have pulled it out when I was panicking. It's your first coherent thought since coming to.

You give a court nod and he resumes his work immediately, tending to your wound with concentration. While he works, your eyes work over the room again.

"Where am I?" Your voice comes out rusted and croaky. How long has it been since I've been out?, you wonder and try to think back to the last thing you remember, but you come up blank.

"You're safe," the nurse responds. He's wrapped your arm up in a neat bandage - clean, you notice - and moves over to a cabinet where he retrieves a freshly packed IV needle. "Can I?" He nods at your left arm and you hum in agreement. You watch him insert the needle into your skin before you speak again.

"That's not what I asked." He finishes up his work by attaching the lines of your IV bag to your new access point, checking for air bubbles and tangles, then places his hands on your hand railing. His eyes find yours. "Look, you're safe, and that's all that matters right now." You want to interrupt him, but he holds a finger up. "No, just wait. Someone will be by to explain everything shortly. I'm not at liberty to say. But I promise," he leans in closer, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I promise, you're safe here. Okay?"

It takes a moment, but you nod and sink back into your pillow. Safe my ass, you think. When's the last time that anywhere was really safe? But what choice do you have? Your body is in no shape to fight, let alone to flee. Besides, this hospital bed is the most comfortable thing you've laid on in months. Might as well enjoy it while you can. Who knows what's waiting for you.

According to the clock on the wall, half an hour passes before the door to your room opens again. This time, it's not the male nurse but a woman that enters. She carries herself with the confidence of someone who's word counts. You prop yourself up as she approaches you, stopping a few feet away with crossed arms.

Neither of you speak for a moment. You eye each other, seizing the other woman up, a silent first introduction that seems to go well when she drops her arms to her sides and her body language switches from closed off to more open. Still, you're the first one to speak.

"You in charge?"

"One of the people in charge, yes."

"One of them?"

"There's a council, elected by the town's members." She seems to hesitate but then crosses the remaining distance between you two before holding a hand out.

"I'm Maria. It's nice to finally meet you." You can't help but raise an eyebrow, yet shake her hand anyway.

"Finally? You heard of me?"

"Oh, we heard plenty! Can I?" She nods at the open space on your bed in front of you and takes a seat when you gesture for her to sit down. "You were quite the talk of the town, the way you arrived. On the brink of death." She smiles at you and, to your surprise, it looks genuine. "Happy you pulled through."

There's an uncomfortable silence where you don't know what to say. You fiddle with the blanket between your fingers as quiet settles over you two.

When Maria reaches out to lay a hand on yours, you instinctually flinch back, but then allow the touch. You see a hint of sadness fluttering across her face, but she quickly hides it behind a sympathetic smile. "I don't know what you've been through, but it can't have been pretty. We're willing to offer you a place to stay, a new home if you want it, but we got rules."

A place to stay? A home?

What's the cost? you think, but don't say the question out loud. "Most of all, you've got to be willing to put in the work. We all chip in here," Maria says as if she overheard your thoughts. "Do you think that's something for you?" She gives you a moment to think about it. A smile spreads across her face when you finally nod.

"Great. Now relax, regain your strength. We'll figure everything out over the next couple of days. I'll come by and introduce you to some people so we can figure out where to place you, okay?" Maria slides off your bed and heads for the door. You can see her wringing her hands in anticipation, a mixture of concern and gladness on her face when she turns around to you once more. "You're safe here. You don't have to worry anymore."

She gives you one last smile and then she's out the door. Yeah right, you think. We'll see about that.

There's 57 cracks in the ceiling. You know this because you've counted them yourself, every single night since this house was first appointed to you. Despite the comfortable - clean, one might add -bed, the roof over your head, hell, despite the damn blackout-curtains, you can't find any sleep.

Your insomnia isn't new. The last good night's rest you've had was probably 22 years ago, before all hell broke loose and the world turned into the shithole it is today. You don't remember a day since where you didn't go to bed hungry or worried for your safety. To be fair, it was better when you had her. Despite worrying for two, it was better when she was there, her tiny body curled up against yours-

You stop the thought when the familiar hole aches in your chest. You try not to think about it, about her, because it always ends up hurting, the pain chipping away at the sides of the hole and making it larger with every relived memory.

"Fuck." You whisper, but it's almost as loud as a shout in the dead-quiet of the house. An entire house for a single person. It seems bizarre to you after having lived in tight quarters for so long, presumptuous even. It feels wrong. And lonely, a small voice chirps in the back of your head, but you swat it away like a fly.

"Alright, enough." There's no point in staying in bed any longer. Dawn is approaching outside, the faintest whisper of light slowly creeping over the horizon and casting long shadows across your bedroom. You roll out of bed and slip on your shoes, never having taken off yesterday's clothes. They provided you with an entire new wardrobe when they granted you residence, PJ's included and all, but old habits die hard.

You make your way downstairs where you brew yourself a quick cup of coffee. Out of all the amenities your new home comes with, this one just might be your favorite perk. Where your adrenaline betrays you during the day, you finally get to rely on caffeine again instead. It's one of the small pleasures you grant yourself every now and then, when a night has been particularly rough.

You lean against the kitchen counter in the semi-dark as you drink your coffee, savoring every sip. The world doesn't seem quite so bad in these moments, in the morning quiet with a steaming cup between your hands and the warm liquid running down your throat, warming you from the inside out and filling your body with fresh life force.

It's then that you hear two mumbled voices outside. Fuck. You mouth the word, cursing the fact that you left your gun upstairs. Carefully, you set your cup down and then open the top drawer next to you, taking out a large chopping knife.

Knife in hand and slowly, so as not to make any sound, you tip-toe towards your front door while keeping your back against the wall. You hear the voices growing louder through the thick glass panels that frame the entrance of your house.

"Seriously, Tommy, why me? Just 'cause I brought her in? It's not like we got a special connection or somethin'."

"Then you'll make one! It's not that hard."

You manage to peer out of one of the glass panels and realize with some relief that it's Tommy Miller, Maria's husband, and Joel Miller, his brother.

The fuck they want here so early in the morning?

"Look. When you and Ellie got here, you were all fidgety for the first few months, and I don't blame you with what you've been through. Hell, some nights even I don't sleep thinking about all we got to lose here." You watch as Tommy and Joel climb the front steps of your porch. "But you saw what this place is. What it means, what it stands for. We got something good going here, Joel. I know you can see that. I just want you to help her see that too."

There's a moment of silence between the brothers while they're staring each other down. "Fine." Joel sounds exasperated. "But why me?" An expression takes form on Tommy's face that you can only describe as 'knowing'. You don't like it. "Because," he starts and raises a hand to knock on your door. "You and her, you got the same kind of twitchy."

Before he can bring his fist down on the cold wood, you open the door in one swift motion.

"Mornin', boys."

They turn to you with a stunned look on their faces. Tommy in particular looks a bit strained, obviously wondering how much you heard.

"Saw y'all walking up on my porch when I came through the hallway," you offer in explanation and watch in amusement as relief washes over the younger brother's face. "What's got you comin' up here so early in the morning?"

"Ah." Tommy smiles broadly and slaps his older brother on the back. "Jeff got sick and Joel here needs a replacement buddy for his rounds. Thought maybe you could fill in for him, seeing as how we haven't found a job for you yet." He smiles at you expectantly, but his smile wavers a little the longer you let him wait for a response.

"Fine," you eventually say, mimicking Joel's tone from earlier. "Lemme' just get my jacket."

The first few rays of sunshine trickle over the land as you ride out of Jackson. You keep a steady, albeit not hasty pace next to each other. Despite what you overheard, Joel doesn't make any attempts of forming any kind of connection. You just ride together in silence, keeping a lookout for anything out of place. You're a little too proud to admit it, but the fresh, cold air feels really good on your skin. You make a mental note not to thank Tommy for this little set-up. Twitchy my ass, you think. What's it to him anyway?

The first half of your morning patrol passes by uneventfully. Joel leads you to what you can only assume was a camping site back in the day where he wipes some snow off of a picnic table and pours steaming hot coffee out of a thermos flask into two cups; one for him, one for you. Despite your morning coffee, you gladly accept the little tin cup and sip on the hot liquid.

You both drink your coffee in silence. You don't mind it, in fact, you almost embrace it. Everyone else you come across in Jackson is just so happy all the time, so open and welcoming and smiling that it makes you sick. Joel's stoic silence, in comparison, is refreshing.

"So, you don't talk very much, do you." You blow on your coffee as you watch his face. He turns to you and his eyes lock onto yours where they remain for a moment. "Not really, no," he says finally. "You mind that?"

You can't help but scoff. "God, no. It's refreshing, really. Everyone else is just so... chipper, like, all the time. It's maddening." You wrinkle your nose in disgust and hear a deep chuckle coming from Joel's chest. "That they are."

When you've both finished your coffee, you get back on your horses to start on the remaining half of your patrol. It starts snowing softly, a few flakes here and there, and for a moment, you almost feel something resembling peace.

"Aren't you supposed to be bonding with me?" you quickly say before the feeling can take root. Joel looks over at you. "You heard that, hu?" "Sure did." Now it's Joel's turn to scoff. "Then you heard it was Tommy's idea, not mine."

You purse your lips but nod, your pursed lips eventually growing into a smile. "I can work with that." It's the last words you speak while the two of you control the perimeter. Even though you're not looking, you can tell Joel's smiling out of the corner of your eye.

Back at the stables, you help take the saddles off of your horses and brush them down. You're on your way to leave when you hear Joel behind you. "Y'know, this place really is safe." You don't turn around, but have stopped walking, an indicator that you're listening. "Didn't believe it m'self when I got here, but Tommy's right. They got a good thing goin' here."

"They?" You've turned around after all. Your eyes seek out his. "Thought you're a member of Jackson?"

A dry smile plays around Joel's lips. He turns from you to pick up one of his horse's behind legs. "Sure am. 'S just they're better than I am, is all," he says as he scrapes the bottom of the hoof.

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. The silence stretches between you two and it becomes clear that he's said all there is to say. "Alright." You turn and start your walk home, back to your house that's too big for just one person, but is one of the few places where people will leave you alone. Safe or not safe, it's the only place you've got to go to.

Joel straightens as you leave the stables. He watches as you make your way across the snowy grounds, away from the people and back towards the residential area. He watches and wonders what your story is before returning to the task at hand. None of my business, he tells himself and resumes his work.

Series Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

[yandere-sins]

holy crap your previous könig and ghost yan are so good😭 i have this idea, and idk if anyone has incorporated it in any yan stories of them, but the idea of unmasking them and seeing their faces for the first time???? like this is pre-established relationship (with either men idk up to you to imagine which) where you haven’t seen their faces…yet. the most you know is the intimidation you feel every time you see them—or see them lurking around you but like, imagine a scenario where the reader is trying to get them to take off their mask + plus i’m pretty sure ghost and könig has yet to have canon appearances so i’d like to hear your interpretations of them!!!

I had this idea in a not yandere-sense and it was so wholesome and adorable and just intimate where they let you unmask them for the first time, kind of hesitant, but so adoringly... Maybe I should write the harmless version one day, but for now, this is still a yandere blog sorry hahaha! Thanks for requesting!!

Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ König is so flustered. Poor man doesn't even think he deserves you being so agreeable that night, sitting in his lap, allowing him to touch you (shallowly, but his fingers are on your body, and that's more than most nights). Yet, you also caress him back, not saying anything or giving him reasons why you're being so nice. You told him so many times you hate him, driving a dagger into his poor heart over and over. Yet, your fingertips are tracing his shoulders and collarbones gently, carefully. He can't stop swallowing hard with all the drool collecting in his mouth, his brain befuddled with intense adoration and need for you to do more. To touch him more, to make him feel your hands and body rougher than the fluttering touches you're bestowing onto him.

♡ That's the only reason he allows your hands to go further. He really likes his mask, but you driving your hands under it, touching the hot skin underneath, well... it raises more questions and also something else between his legs. But König is way too scared to ruin this moment. He's also afraid of you uncovering something you might not like. A face you might find ugly or scars that you will laugh about. He doesn't want you to think badly of him, even though he can't change his looks anymore. At the same time, he really doesn't want you to stop. Just one more inch of skin bared to you. One more touch of your fingertips and all these feelings he harbors for you might explode out of him. But when you get to the stubble on his chin, your thumb having pressed deliciously into his throat and giving him a kick of adrenaline, suddenly, König revolts. Picking you up and setting you down on the couch before getting up and leaving the room in a hurry, he pulls his shirt-mask down as much as he can. After all, it was a bit too much for him; maybe you'll have more luck next time.

♡ (Yes, he's in the bathroom and miserable that he stopped you. Yes, he needs to take a cold shower afterwards, and yes, he still jerks off despite the icy temperature, bemoaning the roughness of his hands compared to yours.)

Ghost

♡ You know, Ghost really didn't plan to let you do it. It's his thing; he doesn't mind being always covered up and unreadable. It also helps with you and keeping you a bit fearful at all times. But when curiosity kills the cat, and you start playing with the seams of his mask, he just... lets you. Ghost wants to know how far you're willing to go, how bold you are—and how much he can take. He's not ashamed of his face, but the mask is his identity, so there might still come a moment when it's uncomfortable for him. But at the same time, this is like a game to him. One he knows he can stop at any given time, but which will yield a lot of prizes if he endures it.

♡ Because really, what's more adorable than you realizing he's not reacting? You thinking you're allowed to do what you want? You're testing the waters carefully, with only the tips of your nails slipping under the tight mask. Ghost watches you through his lashes as he pretends to still be dozing, unbothered and relaxed. In reality, he's controlling his instinctual flinches as everything screams at him to stop you. But you're not out to unmask and kill him, you're just curious. And you grow bolder, fast. He loves that look on your face, the concentration as you loosen the fabric so it might roll up his neck. You keep glancing at him, and though he knows you want to check if he's still asleep, it feels like you're asking his permission. And Ghost gives it to you. He's in control. So he even cranks his neck so you can push it up his chin, exposing his mouth, excitement about your achievement palpable. But when you adjust your position to continue, driving your hands under the mask and cupping his face, Ghost decides it's enough, pushing upwards to meet you in a kiss.

♡ He'll have you flipped over and complaining faster than you can react to, hands pinned above your heads, and your complaints turning into gasps and moans as he deepens the kiss, his hands exploring you until you arch your body into his touch and your mind is woozy from the loss of oxygen. Now that his mouth is out, he might as well use it to both of your pleasures and who knows, maybe he'll let you go a bit farther next time.

[holybibly]

okay hear me out!! little bunny goes to take a shower ok? one of the pups wants to go with her. she would be more skeptical if it was san or mingi or woo, but its just yeosang. he wouldn't try to play with her, right?

wrong! like you said with other senders, yeo is secretly a hard dom. sorry not sorry yall!

so yeah, he pins her to the wall and stims her clit with the showerhead (at the highest pressure, of course) until she cries and stuffs. have fun with that part my brain is #mush

bye bye love ya 💋🎀

Hard dom Yeosang, mmm...

I told you I'm in love with this concept, didn't I? I hope this makes you as dishevelled and nervous as I am when I think about it. Sorry, not sorry; today I want to make you squirm.

"Enjoying yourself, bunny?" Yeosang purrs in a low voice and pulls you closer to him until you're pressed up against his bare chest. It's hot in the shower, but Yeosang's skin seems to be on fire, burning you and making you melt away.

"I-I, yes, a little; it's nice here." You mumble as you feel his lips press against your shoulder and slide up until they leave a kiss on the crimson imprint of Seonghwa's and Hongjoong's teeth, which are still unable to heal from the constant torment of two alphas. If Seonghwa's gorgeous mouth doesn't suck on that sensitive spot at least once a day, the Alpha will go into hysterics, and as far as Hongjoong is concerned, it's a hundred times worse. His lips are on your neck 24/7, and there is no discussion about it.   Yeosang can hardly wait for the day he can sink his fangs into you, too; he licks the sore spot lightly. His hands slide down your sides and come to rest on your hips, his thumbs slowly and emphatically massaging the soft skin.

The black-haired Alpha turns you around to face him, his icy grey eyes piercing you in an instant, holding you in place and making you submit to him. Yeosang is usually quiet, a little distant, and taciturn, but that's not like that when he's alone with you. Like all wolves, Yeosang has a dark, animalistic side to him, and he will never miss an opportunity to show it off to you.

Despite how warm and stuffy it is in the shower, you start to shiver as he leans down to brush his tongue across your lips. There is a low growl from him, and you obey instantly, opening your lips to him.

Cautiously, greedily, he traces the contours of your mouth as if it were uncharted territory, and every lazy move he makes makes you press closer to him, your hands clinging tentatively to his shoulders. It's only when the need for air becomes critical and you start falling apart, your chest heaving rapidly, that you begin to whimper. You try to press yourself closer to his sculpted body. The mucus leaking from you makes your pussy slippery and wet.

"Alpha, please..." You gasp, your heart pounding erratically in your chest.

He gives you a wicked smile and bites your lower lip, making you squeal at the sharp sting of his fangs. His hands slide down to the luxurious curve of your ass, squeezing it hard as he begins to plant rough kisses along the side of your jaw, working their way down to the pillar of your throat. Your head falls back against the tiled wall as he bites down hard on a particularly sensitive spot close to your collarbone, and a moment later his tongue darts out to lick the small drops of blood from the bruised skin. The sensation makes you moan loudly and for a long time, and Yeosang purrs contentedly.

Then he moves lower down to your heavy, luscious breasts, his hot mouth curling around the hard tip of one of your nipples as his hand slides up your belly until his fingers curl around the other. Your back arched under his caresses, your fingers scratching along his back. The low, dark chuckle emanating from his chest sent a delicious shiver down your spine. Oh, my God, Alpha...

The fact that the wolves are addicted to your milk and constantly abuse your breasts is something you still can't get used to. They are always biting, sucking, licking, and drinking, and they still cannot get enough. Your tits have become even more sensitive than they were before, under the constant care of the wolves. It doesn't even have to be anything sexual; all they have to do is keep your nipples in their mouths.

Wooyoung and San recently cornered you just to torment you all night long by sucking on your tits and playing with your nipples. It was a maddening experience. You came so many times you couldn't even count, and they didn't even fuck you properly.

You whimper at the loss of contact and watch the corner of his mouth curl into a grin as Yeosang's mouth pulls away from your chest. Tiny drops of milk glisten on his wet, red lips, and he immediately licks them off, humming in appreciation of the taste.

"Turn your back to me, bunny." He orders in a low voice, and the dark promise in his tone of voice makes you obey with all your might.

The anticipation of what he will do next is simply unbearable. It literally drives you crazy, making you tremble and cower, never knowing what path he will take.

Yeosang stands behind you, silent and motionless, and you dare not look at him, instead staring at the black tiled wall, watching the water trickle down. You can taste Yeosang—leather and powder—in the steam that comes out of the water.

You vaguely hear him fiddling with something. Your ears twitch, hoping to recognise the sound, but the sound of running water makes it difficult. Your thighs rub against each other in an attempt to relieve the aching tension between your legs.

"Alpha, I… Oh!" Your voice changes to a surprised squeal as he suddenly pushes something between your legs—something that you recognise as a silver shower head. The metal in it makes a delightfully cool contrast to the warmth of the water and the heat of your skin.

As Yeosang presses the shower head against your clit, your knees almost buckle and your pussy squirts mucus with an even smoother, more powerful squirt. Only his strong arm, wrapped around your waist, keeps you on your feet, pressing your back against his chest as his teeth nibble gently at the lobe of your ear.

"It's time for a new experience, baby. I promise you're going to feel good."

It is hard for you to think straight. The water is massaging your clit in slippery circles, splashing and spraying over your thighs as they shake with the tension. It takes all your strength and concentration to force yourself to answer, your voice high and shrill.

"Oh, my God. Ewww, Alpha! It's so good."

His answering chuckle, husky and sultry, sends a bolt of lightning straight to the heart of your body.

"Look at you, all wet and beautiful and desperate for me." His hips are pressing up against your ass, and you can feel how hard his cock is and how ready it is for you. It's thick, veiny, and long, perfect for fucking your tender little bunny body.

You let out a whimper as he moved the nozzle, and now the stream of water is right on top of your clit, intense and merciless. It is at this point that you start to breathe out his name, your chest heaving in a desperate attempt to get more air into your lungs. The pressure is too much, too much for you, who've never done this before. You feel like you're teetering dangerously close to the edge, the coil in your stomach wound as tight as it can be without breaking. You are so, so close to cum.

And then Yeosang pulls away, the shower head disappearing between your trembling thighs and taking your orgasm with it. The pleasure that was about to wash over you in a wave of ecstasy is painfully slow to return to your veins. You're practically crying at the loss of this sensation. Tears well up in your eyes, but you know there's nothing you can do about it. If they want to play rough with you, they will drag out the pleasure for hours on end. One time, Seonghwa didn't let you cum all night long until you passed out from the overstimulation.

Yeosang loosens his grip on your waist and gives you a kiss between your shoulder blades. His hand slides up your belly, thumb-stroking your swollen nipples, wet with water and milk, and continues until his long fingers wrap around your throat.

Yeosang's hand tightens around your neck, effectively blocking your airway; your eyes roll back; and your legs shake from the overload of sensations.

"How's that, sweetie? Does your Sangie make you feel good? Tell me, sweetheart, do mommy and daddy play with you like I do?" His voice is dark and hoarse, and there is a hint of arrogance in it that you can hear. He wraps the fingers of his other hand around your sensitive nipple and twists it. You have the urge to squeal, but the grip on your throat prevents any sound from escaping.

His soft lips leave the softest kisses on your shoulders in contrast to the rough touches of your body and the suffocating grip on your throat. The tenderness with which he kisses and honours your skin is almost enough to lull you to sleep, make your head fall back on his chest, and let you lose yourself in your little subspace of desire.

You don't immediately realise what's happening when the sound of running water suddenly gets louder. It's only when his claws start to slide down your spine, scratching at every ridge before they grasp your thigh roughly, that you realise what he's up to. A moment later, the water is hitting you; the shower head is pressing down on your legs, enveloping your already sensitive clit in a swirling whirlpool of heat and moisture. You wheeze, gasping for breath, and Yeosang moans long, excited and thirsty from what you've done.

"Damn, you're so hot, bunny." He moans and presses his mouth close to your ear. "I'm never going to get tired of playing with you; I'm going to torture you and fuck you every fucking day."

As he pushes the nozzle deeper into your pussy you writhe in his arms, your whole body shaking. He suddenly lets go of your throat, only to wrap his hand around your waist and pull you closer to him, his thick cock sliding between the cheeks of your plump ass.

His lips curl up in a wicked smile against the back of your neck.

It's almost frightening how dishevelled you are. The heat coils in your abdomen, dark and intense, yearning for release.

"P-please, please, Yeosang..." You whimper almost incoherently, squirming in his iron grip in a desperate attempt to increase the friction.

Yeosang laughs maliciously at your futile attempts.

"I need a little bit more from you, baby." His voice gets deeper and deeper, sounding almost animalistic and incredibly seductive. He pushes his hips into your ass, the hot length sliding perfectly between your buttocks, staining the space with a mixture of your mucus and his pre-cum. The base of his knot can already be felt, and you know what it is that he wants to hear from you.

"I want your alpha knot; I want you to tie me; I want you to make me your bitch." The words come out of you in the most natural way possible, as if this is what you were born to do. You have repeated them so many times that it is as if they have been imprinted on your tongue.

As the knot in your stomach tightens as your orgasm builds, desperation seeps into your tone.

"Alpha, please, I am going to be the best bunny for you. I want your knot so badly."

"Then you can cum, my little bunny. Show me what a good girl you are." Yeosang growls as the hand on your waist slides up and begins to knead your breasts roughly. Your tits are so swollen with milk that they can barely fit in the palm of his hand. The added sensation sends you over the edge with a deafening scream, your cunt clenching around nothing as you squirm weakly in his firm grip, feeling completely boneless.

It takes a few long seconds for the rush of pleasure to wear off. Yeosang gently strokes between your velour ears and plants hot kisses on your neck and shoulders as you come to your senses.

"The Alpha wants to tear you apart and breed you such a beautiful and obedient bunny. You are all mine, so juicy and sweet. Do you think you can take my knot right now, baby?"