#ive hinted at kink | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

faebled-stories · 3 months ago

Text

Home is Where I'm Enough

Poll winner: Praise Kink (Kinkvember Debut Fic)

IVE Jang Wonyoung x Male reader

6.5k words

The apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of keys and the soft hum of Y/N’s computer. He sat hunched over his desk, the screen’s gentle glow casting an ethereal light across his face as he polished the final touches of his latest graphic design project. He’d been in the zone for hours, the kind of intense flow only a passionate creator knows, dreading any interruption. But as the night grew late, fatigue crept in like an unwelcome guest, blurring the vibrant colors and shapes on his screen and drawing him into a hazy exhaustion.

Just as he stretched back in his chair, letting his arms rise above his head to shake off the dull ache in his shoulders, the front door creaked open. Though faint, the sound pulled his attention immediately, stirring a gentle flutter in his chest. He knew who it was: Wonyoung.

She stepped inside, her silhouette soft against the dim hallway light. Her usual radiance had dimmed, replaced by a look of deep exhaustion. Strands of hair framed her face, loosely tousled, hinting at the long hours she’d endured. Dressed in her favorite oversized sweater, slipping off one shoulder, and paired with comfy shorts, her cozy ensemble contrasted starkly with the glitz of her public persona. Tonight, she looked as if the weight of the world had finally settled on her delicate frame.

Her gaze drifted across the room, her steps heavy as she gravitated toward him, perhaps unconsciously drawn by the promise of comfort. When their eyes met, she offered a small, tired smile—a gesture that seemed automatic, though the usual warmth was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted in a warm, low voice, breaking the quiet of the apartment with gentle concern. “Long day?”

Wonyoung let out a soft, tired breath, her smile persisting but not quite reaching her eyes. “Yeah… you wouldn’t believe how exhausting today was. Promotions, photoshoots, fan meetings… I don’t even know how I’m still standing.” Her words, though calm, carried an unmistakable weight, each syllable laced with unspoken exhaustion.

He rose from his desk, the scrape of the chair against the floor seeming louder in the stillness, closing the distance between them. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, his embrace both protective and tender, inviting her to let go of whatever she’d been carrying. She melted against him, her body softening as she leaned fully into his warmth, the tension in her shoulders easing as if hoping to dissolve into him.

“You’ve been working so hard, princess. You deserve to rest,” he murmured, gliding a hand over her back in soothing circles, tracing gentle patterns over the soft fabric of her sweater. Each stroke was meant to ease her, to remind her that she didn’t need to be strong right now.

Wonyoung sighed, resting her head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat become an anchor, grounding her. “I don’t even know if I can relax,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, carrying an edge of vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show. “Everyone always asks me for things, but no one ever asks me what I need. I feel like I’m always giving, and no one’s there to just… take care of me.”

Her words tugged at his heart, and he tightened his embrace, listening fully, letting her be exactly who she was. Tonight, she wasn’t Wonyoung the idol; she was just his girlfriend, stripped of the weight of expectations.

Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, he murmured, “Tonight, I’m here to take care of you. You don’t need to worry about anything. How about we keep it quiet? I could make some dinner—whatever you’d like?”

She smiled softly but shook her head. “No, thank you… I’m not really hungry. Just too tired to eat, I think.”

He nodded, adjusting his suggestion. “Maybe a massage? Help you relax and ease those tired muscles?”

Wonyoung considered it, then sighed, her gaze drifting. “That sounds nice, but I don’t think I can even sit still long enough. I’d probably fall asleep halfway through.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her shoulder in a light caress. “Fair enough. How about a movie, then? We could just put something on, snuggle up on the couch, and you can zone out as much as you need?”

A flicker of warmth crossed her face at the thought, but she shook her head again. “That sounds nice too, but I don’t think I’d even be able to focus. My mind’s just… elsewhere.”

He paused, sensing that none of his suggestions had quite hit the mark. Sliding a gentle hand to her cheek, he met her gaze, his voice tender. “Then tell me, Wonyoung. Whatever you need, just say it. I’m here.”

The world around them seemed to hold its breath, caught in the tender pause that enveloped the pair. Wonyoung, usually so composed and commanding, now appeared as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, her usual confidence momentarily abandoned. It was in this rare instance of uncertainty that she found the courage to voice her deepest desire.

"Oppa ," she began, her voice a whisper of its usual strength, carrying a hesitance that was seldom heard. "Can we just… be together? Just us."

His response was immediate and heartfelt. A gentle smile graced his lips, his heart warmed by the sincerity of her request. "Of course, Wony. We can just spend time together, no pressure, no work, just us."

The vulnerability in her eyes was palpable, yet it was accompanied by a spark of mischief that hinted at an unexpressed longing. As she stepped closer, her fingers traced an unsteady path along his arm, her touch betraying her nervousness. Oblivious to the full extent of her yearning, he leaned in to bestow a tender kiss upon her forehead, his words a soothing balm to her unspoken needs.

"Just us, no distractions, okay?" he affirmed, his voice a comforting promise.

Wonyoung's fingers anxiously toyed with the hem of his shirt, her courage wavering for but a moment before she mustered the resolve to voice the true nature of her request. With a shy smile that barely contained her anticipation, she looked up at him, her words laced with a boldness that belied her gentle demeanor.

"Oppaa... I-I meant... can we... have... sexy time?"

The surprise that registered on his face was genuine, his mind struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in the conversation. He had been prepared to offer her a sanctuary of relaxation and companionship, but this... this was an invitation to a different kind of connection, one that was both intimate and thrilling.

As the initial shock subsided, his gaze softened, and he saw her in an entirely new light. The playful glint in her eyes, the delicate blush that graced her cheeks—it all painted a picture of Wonyoung that was both endearing and alluring. She stood before him, her hands fidgeting with a mixture of nervousness and desire, her lips parted in quiet anticipation of his response.

Understanding dawned on him, and with it came a smile that reflected his deep affection for her. "Ah, Wony," he said with a gentle chuckle, his fingers brushing away a stray lock of her hair. "You want us to... I see, of course baby"

Her affirmation was shy but resolute, her voice barely above a whisper as she laid bare her innermost wishes. "I... I've been really stressed, and I just... I just want you. Just us."

A deep warmth rose within him as he gazed at the woman in his arms, a warmth that radiated through every fiber of his being. She was here with him, stripped of the expectations and perfection the world demanded of her, showing him the truest parts of herself. Her request, so simple yet so vulnerable, spoke volumes about the bond they shared, and he felt his heart swell with love and admiration. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled her closer, his hands finding their place around her waist, fingers pressing into her softly but with purpose. He tilted his head to capture her lips in a kiss that promised everything she might need, murmuring against her mouth, "Whatever you want, just tell me."

With that, the world around them dissolved into a soft blur, distant and forgotten, as Wonyoung melted into his arms. The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow, the light spilling over their entwined bodies and casting shadows that highlighted her delicate curves. He traced his fingers slowly along her back, feeling the subtle tremors beneath her skin, the way her body softened by degrees, her tension easing under his touch. Each stroke coaxed a little more trust from her, even as she wrestled with the restraint that held her in check, a habit formed over years of needing to be perfectly in control.

As his hands began to unfasten the layers of her clothing with gentle care, he could feel her vulnerability like an unspoken word between them. To the world, she was grace personified, a vision of poise and elegance, an idol untouchable in her perfection. Yet, here and now, she was a woman grappling with the desire to shed the weight of that polished image, to surrender the mantle of perfection she wore so effortlessly in the public eye. His fingers moved with the gentleness of someone who understood her inner struggle, his touch a balm, offering her the quiet assurance she needed to let down her guard.

He sensed the battle playing out within her, an invisible tug-of-war between the person she had to be and the one she longed to become in this private space. His lips brushed over her neck, his voice low and soothing. "Wony, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet," he murmured, pressing soft kisses along her jawline, "but you’re perfect in all the ways that matter. You bring so much beauty and strength into my life."

A shuddered breath escaped her lips as his words settled over her, each one unraveling a bit more of her control. Her hands tightened in the bedsheets, twisting the fabric as she balanced on the razor-thin line between control and surrender. His hands traced over her sides, strong and steady, each movement slow and deliberate, designed to comfort and ignite. "Let go for me, baby, it's okay," he coaxed, his voice a deep, resonant sound that seemed to settle right at the core of her, calling to her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

The endearment lingered in the air, a plea and a promise wrapped into one, coaxing her closer to that edge. Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as she fought the rising urge to surrender completely, to release everything she held back. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words came out as a fragile whisper, the vulnerability in her voice breaking through. "I don’t… I don’t know if I can," she admitted, her voice quivering, her brows furrowed in a fleeting expression of frustration and fear, the tension of her resistance etched across her face.

His response was instant and tender. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a gesture of unwavering support that steadied her. "You can, Wony," he assured her, his gaze holding hers, brimming with sincerity. "I see how much you keep it together out there, and that makes me appreciate even more the way you open up with me. It’s such a privilege to be the one who gets to see this side of you." His words were a gentle nudge, affirming his commitment not just to her pleasure but to her peace, his hands holding her as if promising to anchor her.

Trust shone in her eyes as she took a deep, steadying breath, his words filling her with a sense of security that was as powerful as it was freeing. Slowly, she let herself relax, allowing him to guide her, his hands continuing their slow, purposeful journey across her skin, each caress a reminder of his deep affection. The pleasure within her built steadily, a growing ache, a tantalizing invitation that beckoned her toward release. Yet, even as she teetered on that edge, the remnants of her control clung to her, a practiced restraint born of habit, a habit he was patiently helping her unravel, piece by piece.

His fingertips traced her skin with a deliberate gentleness, painting a path that left her body flushed, every inch hypersensitive to his touch. The way he moved over her was worshipful, reverent, each stroke of his hand along her curves as if he were discovering her for the first time. She twitched beneath him, her back arching to meet his touch, her breaths shallow and filled with anticipation. Every caress was a testament to how he saw her—not just an idol, but a masterpiece, a person to be cherished in all her vulnerability and strength.

His mouth moved down to lavish her jawline with tender, lingering kisses. He traveled along the column of her throat, the warmth of his breath igniting her senses and sending cascades of goosebumps across her skin. With her head tilted back, she exposed her neck, an unspoken surrender in the tilt of her head, a silent invitation for him to continue. The softness of his mouth, the slow, careful rhythm, filled her with a thrill of arousal she could barely contain, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him, wanting more yet barely able to voice it.

Their lips met then, a slow, searching kiss that unfolded with a blend of tenderness and raw emotion. His mouth moved against hers with a gentle ardor, savoring each moment, each connection, and her fingers tangled in his hair as she drew him closer, letting herself melt into the warmth of his embrace. The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the two of them suspended in a quiet dance, a sacred exchange of love and vulnerability that allowed her to shed every mask she wore. Here, wrapped in his affection, she found the courage to set down the armor she held so tightly, to accept the freedom he offered.

His mouth trailed lower, each kiss slower, more deliberate, as he left a line of warmth down her body, his fingers pressing gently into her hips to steady her. The closer he came to her core, the more intense her anticipation grew, her breath catching as he settled between her thighs. She felt the tension building inside her, excitement and vulnerability intertwining in equal measure. But as his lips neared her center, a flicker of hesitation stirred within her, a whisper of insecurity breaking through the haze of arousal.

She tensed slightly, her mind rushing to the imperfections she imagined, the things she couldn’t control. In front of him, she felt bare, unfiltered, not the polished, pristine version she presented to the world. Right now, she wasn’t perfect, wasn’t flawless, wasn’t prepared. The thought made her hesitate, and she tried to subtly shift away, her hand moving instinctively to shield herself. “It's not…I’m not—” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush.

But he paused, sensing the change in her, his gaze lifting to meet hers with a gentleness that held her in place. He brushed a comforting hand over her thigh, the touch steady and reassuring, his voice low and soft. "Hey… don’t worry. Right here, you’re exactly as you should be. You don’t need to be anything but yourself with me." He placed a tender kiss on her inner thigh, his words imbued with an acceptance that quieted her worries, the unconditional affection in his gaze anchoring her.

With a breath, she nodded, the tension easing as she allowed herself to relax, feeling the weight of her expectations melt in his presence. His hands settled on her thighs, grounding her, as he placed a soft, reverent kiss at her center, his lips warm and gentle, easing her slowly back into the moment. As his tongue began to trace delicate, slow circles, she felt herself letting go, her hesitations fading beneath the steady rhythm of his movements.

He continued with a tenderness that felt like a vow, his mouth exploring her as though reminding her that she was already perfect to him. Each touch, each gentle press of his mouth, was a wordless reassurance, a reminder that she could be vulnerable here, could let herself be imperfect without fear. His fingers stroked over her skin, guiding her back to herself, and the pleasure started to overtake the remnants of her self-doubt.

Finally, her body began to respond instinctively, hips pressing forward as her breath grew shallower, soft sounds spilling from her lips as she surrendered to the sensation. His mouth continued its worshipful rhythm, bringing her closer and closer to the edge until she could no longer think of anything but the waves of pleasure that built within her, each one stronger than the last. Her hand found its way into his hair, gripping softly as her control slipped, her voice a soft, pleading whisper in the quiet.

In this sacred space, Wonyoung found the courage to relinquish her hold on perfection, to embrace the imperfect beauty of being truly seen and wholeheartedly loved. His unwavering presence and the sanctuary of his affection were the keys that unlocked the gate to her unbridled self. Here, in the sanctity of their bond, Wonyoung was not just an idol, but a woman fully immersed in the depths of love and the freedom it brings.

He paused and replaced his mouth with his fingers. Her warm, moist folds pulsing around his digits, slowly he leaned towards her. The voice that caressed Wonyoung's ears was a balm to her soul, a soft, soothing timbre filled with quiet strength. "It's okay, Wony. You don't have to try to be perfect. I love you just as you are, you’re perfect to me." The words, imbued with unconditional acceptance, were a gentle command that resonated deep within her core.

Wonyoung, the idol worshiped by millions for her flawless poise and ethereal beauty, found herself gasping as the first wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her fingers, once graceful and composed, now gripped the sheets with an urgency that betrayed her facade. The pleasure was a sudden heat, a surge of sensation that ignited her senses and sent ripples of ecstasy coursing through her body. Each pulsating surge overwhelmed her with a delicious thrill, her body instinctively arching towards the source of her bliss, yet her moans remained soft and restrained—a delicate symphony of need barely rising above a whisper.

The world outside ceased to exist. The contrast between the poised idol she presented to the world and the vulnerable girl who yearned to unravel in his arms was stark and dissonant. The weight of expectation, a constant pressure to maintain the image of perfection, loomed over her. Yet, in the sanctity of their embrace, a different desire flickered to life—a longing for the freedom to embrace her innermost yearnings without fear or restraint.

The pleasure surged once more, its potency wrapping around her like a tantalizing embrace. Wonyoung's heart raced, her breath hitching in her throat as she inhaled sharply. The waves of sensation enveloped her, swallowing her whole while her thoughts swirled chaotically, tinged with a subtle desperation. Would he understand the storm of emotions raging within her? Would he cherish both the idol and the girl beneath the surface?

With every pulse of pleasure, she teetered on the edge of release, a dizzying dance between her public persona and her private self. The fear of disappointment clawed at her, but his gentle fingers spoke a language of love that was both soothing and comforting, coaxing her closer to the precipice of surrender. As she hovered on the brink, her body taut as a bowstring, his lips found her ear, and he whispered words of devotion.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect. Let go, my love. Cum for me." The sensual cadence of his words wrapped around her, an undeniable invitation, and she felt the last of her walls tremble, cracking under the weight of his praise. Her body responded instinctively, arching into his touch as he coaxed her closer to the edge. She could feel it building, a molten tension winding tighter with each pulse of pleasure that surged through her, threatening to unmoor her entirely.

Then, with a choked cry, her resolve shattered. The pleasure that swept through her was intense, potent enough to make her gasp, her core clenching rhythmically around his fingers as ecstasy surged, each wave cresting and crashing through her. She trembled, her breaths coming in rapid bursts as she teetered in that blissful space. But even as the release overtook her, rippling outward with undeniable force, there was still a sliver of herself she held back, a trace of resistance lingering at her core, keeping her from fully dissolving into pleasure. It was as if her body had surrendered, yet her heart still lingered, guarded, hovering just beyond the reach of complete vulnerability.

Wave after wave of sensation left her body limp and shivering, her skin flushed, her breaths ragged. And yet, even as she lay in his embrace, reveling in the aftershocks of her release, something deep within her remained untouched, still holding on, as though daring her to surrender wholly next time. She felt the intensity of her release—a vivid, powerful testament to how much she wanted to let go, yet how much further she could fall if only she allowed herself.

Tenderly, he gathered her in his arms as she shuddered through the aftershocks. "That’s it, baby. You’re amazing. So responsive, so trusting. I couldn’t be prouder of you." He rained kisses over her face, her neck, his words a soothing salve to her soul. She clung to him, dizzy and disoriented from the maelstrom of emotions, yet cherished beyond measure. In this moment, she wasn't a fantasy or a fetish, but a woman truly seen and adored for all that she was—a duality of strength and vulnerability, perfectly entwined in the arms of love.

"You're doing so well," he whispered, his hands continuing their gentle caress. "You're amazing, Wony." His words, soft as a summer breeze, carried the weight of his admiration and tenderness.

She sighed, her breath still shaky as she came down from the first climax, a testament to the passion they shared. Yet, there was a lingering frustration in her, a shadow of doubt that marred the perfection of the moment. She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I don't know why I can't just fully… let go," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I feel like I'm still holding on…"

He shook his head gently, his fingers deftly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's okay baby," he said softly, his voice full of understanding. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. You've done so much already, I know you trust me, baby, please show it to me." His words, a soothing balm to her troubled heart, seemed to ease the tension from her body.

Her eyes softened at his words, her chest rising and falling with deep, labored breaths. She gave a small nod, her lips curving into a hesitant smile, though there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. He didn’t let go. His hands moved over Wonyoung again, softer this time, each touch deliberate and careful, as though every stroke carried a promise. "Do you have one more for me, princess?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down her spine. "Just trust me, Wony. I'm going to help you let go. You don't have to hold anything back."

Wonyoung's breath caught in her throat as she nodded. The tension in her body, so tightly wound, began to loosen under his careful touch. His hands roamed with purpose and pure, unhurried affection. The way he touched her wasn't just intimate; it was reverent, as if he was worshiping every part of her. His whispered praises filled the air between them like a balm, soothing the parts of her that had felt raw for so long. His lips trailed slowly down her neck, then lower, placing gentle, lingering kisses on her chest. He paused, his mouth grazing her nipple, his warmth sending a shiver through her as he focused on the stiff nub.

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he murmured, his lips returning to her neck. "The way you keep going, even when things get tough, it's amazing to watch."

With each word, Wonyoung felt her defenses begin to crumble, the walls she had built around herself slowly breaking apart, leaving her exposed. Her breath hitched as her body responded, but even as she surrendered, a small, aching hesitation remained, a part of her still clinging to control. She wanted to let go, to feel fully, to be vulnerable, yet something held her back—an invisible tether keeping her from completely surrendering.

"I don't know if I can, I don't know how to…" she whispered, her voice shaking, not from fear, but from the overwhelming vulnerability that swelled inside her. She had always been the strong one, the composed one—the one in control. But here, in his arms, she didn't have to be any of those things. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away a stray tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye.

His eyes, warm and filled with love, never left hers. "Honey, I know how hard you work to be strong every day, and I see how much you carry. But here, with me, you don’t have to keep it all together," he whispered, his voice so soft, "I love every side of you—your strength, yes, but also the parts that need tenderness and care. You’ve been strong for so long; it’s okay to let yourself rest and lean on me. I’m here to hold you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, completely, and I’ll always have your back. Let go, even if just for a moment. You’ve earned it, and I’ll be right here through it all."

Something deep within Wonyoung shifted, a missing piece falling into place in a puzzle she hadn’t even known existed. In that charged, breathless moment, her last defenses dissolved. The barriers she had clung to splintered into dust, leaving her bare and vulnerable, her emotions raw and beautiful. Her body softened under his touch, yielding, pressing close, every line of her molding to him as if they’d been designed to fit together. Her heart—her most precious, guarded part—opened entirely, like a flower surrendering to the kiss of the morning sun. Years of hidden hurt and buried longing spilled forth, leaving her exposed and breathless, every nerve alive with sensation.

Her breaths quickened, shallow and uneven, as he pulled her closer, his touch igniting something deep within her, something that had been waiting, yearning to be released. She let out a soft, needy sound, a whispered “Oh…” as his hand traced her spine, sending a delicious shiver down her back. The heat spread through her, coiling tightly, winding up like a spring. His hands roamed over her skin, each stroke a spark, each caress an invitation to let go. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and another soft moan escaped her, higher, pleading. “Mmm… please…” she breathed, the anticipation winding up within her until she could hardly bear it.

As the pleasure built, her voice trembled, rising with each sensation that took her closer to the edge. “Ah—” she gasped as he found that spot, her entire body arching into him. “Yes, I’m cumming” she whimpered, her moans spilling freely, no longer shy, each sound a testament to the rawness of her surrender, the depth of her need. When release finally claimed her, it crashed over her like a tidal wave, an all-consuming flood that left her gasping, body trembling as she clung to him. She let out a keening cry, her voice breaking into soft, shuddering moans, her fingers curling against him as wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through her, leaving her breathless and dazed.

The pleasure was pure, untainted by guilt or hesitation, a dizzying blend of bliss and vulnerability. She felt herself come undone, a thousand stars scattering behind her closed eyelids, each pulse of pleasure brighter than the last. She gasped, her voice a whisper as her senses dissolved, leaving her floating, utterly open and alive in his arms.

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she lost herself in the moment, in him. His hands never stopped their slow, sensual caress, letting her enjoy every last bit of her release. His lips never stopped their sweet murmurs of praise as he held her, supported her, guided her through the waves of bliss that crashed over her again and again.

When she finally stilled, panting and spent in his arms, Wonyoung felt something she hadn't in years—free. Free to be herself, free to feel, free to love. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, a smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her cries of pleasure. "Thank you for helping me let go."

He just smiled, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You never have to thank me for that, baby," he murmured, his arms tightening around her. "I'm always here to help you, no matter what."

In the stillness of the night, two souls lay intertwined, wrapped in the embrace of intimacy and comfort. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the rhythmic cadence of their breaths, akin to a gentle melody that enveloped them in a cocoon of warmth. Wonyoung felt a profound sense of peace that had eluded her for far too long, nestled snugly against his chest.

He looked down at her, marveling at the sheer beauty of the moment as the golden rays of the setting sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow around them. The tender strokes of his fingers dancing along her back were like a soothing balm, a gentle reminder that she was cherished, easing the weight of her worries and insecurities that often clung to her like a second skin. Each caress felt deliberate, as if he were painting a masterpiece against her skin, and with every touch, she could feel the tension melt away, leaving her breathless and weightless.

Devoid of the pressure and expectations that characterized her public persona, Wonyoung felt free to be simply herself. The world outside faded into a distant murmur, and for once, the gleaming lights and flashing cameras were nothing more than faint memories. In his embrace, she was not the polished idol; she was simply a woman allowing herself to experience vulnerability.

The usual assertiveness of her personality melted into a soft bundle of intimacy. She took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of him, a mix of her favorite cologne and something uniquely his that made her heart flutter. She turned her head slightly, resting her cheek against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat sync with her own. It was a melody of trust, of safety, allowing her to lower the walls she’d so carefully constructed over the years.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, she shared a rare smile, a smile that spoke of the unguarded joy that danced in the depths of her eyes. In that quiet sanctuary of their shared space, Wonyoung finally understood that the pressures of the world, the expectations from fans and industry executives, had no claim over this moment. Here, with him, she was stripped of her titles and achievements. She was just Wony — beautifully flawed, wonderfully imperfect, and so deeply human. In the gentle confines of his arms, she felt liberated, ready to embrace every fragment of herself she had kept hidden away.

“I don't know what I did to be so lucky to have you in my life, Thank you so much,” she murmured softly, her words barely breaking the silence, yet carrying an ocean of emotion.

His heart swelled at her gratitude. “You don’t have to thank me, Wony,” he replied, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

With deliberate slowness, he shifted to tuck a blanket around them, ensuring that the warmth of their connection extended beyond just their bodies. Every gesture was measured, an unspoken promise to hold her carefully, to shield her from the chaos of the outside world. As he enveloped her further into the warmth, she exhaled a soft sigh, feeling the cares of the day slip away like grains of sand through her fingers.

The comforting weight of the blanket, combined with his unwavering presence, created an oasis of tranquility. Wonyoung nestled closer, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of him — a blend of warmth, safety, and love. It was a scent that anchored her, reminding her that here, with him, she could fully let go and simply be.

“Your happiness means everything to me,” he murmured softly, wrapping his arms around Wony. “I love taking care of you; it’s my greatest joy.”

In the quiet sanctuary of their shared space, Wonyoung surrendered to the day's final embrace. The weight of hours spent apart now gave way to the serene pull of sleep, a tide of weariness that beckoned her to its peaceful shores. Yet, as the siren call of rest tempted her consciousness, a single, sacred ritual anchored her to the waking world—a phrase that had blossomed into their own secret lexicon, a testament to a bond that defied the physical realm. "Oppaaa… can I have… tucky?" she whispered, her voice a tender plea in the dimly lit room.

The words hung in the air, a delicate invocation, and his heart responded with a symphony of flutters. It was a request that transcended mere comfort; it was the embodiment of a profound craving for closeness, a need that only their unique connection could satisfy. "Of course, baby," he replied, his voice a soothing balm, wrapped in the warmth of a smile that illuminated the shadows.

With meticulous care, he began to undress, each movement a silent vow to honor the sanctity of her comfort. His actions were a dance of devotion, a series of quiet gestures that spoke volumes of his desire to bridge the gap between their bodies while preserving the delicate fabric of her ease.

As Wonyoung positioned herself atop him, her lithe form a perfect complement to his, their bodies began a silent conversation. Her thighs, soft and supple, cradled his hips, while her arms encircled his neck, drawing him into an embrace that promised refuge. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his awaiting form, her slickness guiding him into the heart of her warmth. A gasp, soft and surrendering, escaped her lips as he filled her, stretching her to the brink of pleasure.

In the close warmth of their embrace, Wonyoung's breasts, soft and tender, pressed against the firm contours of his chest. Each breath they shared caused her hardened nipples to graze his skin, a delicate friction that stoked the flames of their desire. Her core, a molten haven, clenched around his length, a rhythmic pulse that echoed the beating of their hearts."

Their dance was unhurried, a languid exploration of the connection that bound them. It was a communion of souls, a testament to the depth of their understanding. With each undulation of Wonyoung's hips, their bodies found solace.

Lost in the comfort of his arms, Wonyoung's sighs mingled with the quiet of the room, a harmony of contentment. Her cheek, nestled in the crook of his neck, inhaled the familiar scent that clung to his skin—a scent that whispered of safety and belonging. Thoughts dissolved into the ether, replaced by the exquisite sensations that coursed through her. Her fingertips, light as a feather's touch, traced the contours of his back, each stroke deepening their connection.

The pleasure that built within her was a slow simmer, a crescendo that threatened to consume them both. Yet, Wonyoung reveled in the anticipation, drawing out the sweet agony of their union. She clung to the moment, unwilling to relinquish the closeness that enveloped them, a closeness that made the world beyond their embrace seem a distant memory.

"You're so perfect," he murmured into her hair, his words a tender confession. "I love you so much. Just like this. Just us." His voice, laden with emotion, was a testament to the depth of his affection. In the stillness of their shared space, their love was a living entity, a force that rendered them invincible in their vulnerability.

Wonyoung smiled at his words, a small, contented grin that reached her eyes as she nuzzled closer. She gently traced slow, lazy patterns across his skin with her fingertips, feeling the soothing rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch. Each caress brought a fresh wave of calm, a deeper sense of security, and a love that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. She had never felt so cherished, so at peace.

“I love you,” she murmured softly, her voice a delicate whisper filled with gratitude, knowing he understood her heart without needing to say more.

“I love you too, baby, so much,” he replied, his voice tender as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. There was something deeper in his touch—a promise, a vow of unconditional love and support that she could always count on.

As Wonyoung’s body relaxed fully into his, her breathing slowing, he focused on the simple, quiet joy of having her close. The rhythm of her heartbeat matched the serenity of the room, each gentle beat echoing the contentment swelling in his chest. He realized this wasn’t just an intimate moment; it was their sanctuary, a home they had built within each other where love grew and thrived.

“You make me feel safe,” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable, as if confessing a secret.

He smiled, holding her even closer. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he replied softly, his voice thick with emotion. “To be the place where you feel at home.”

Wonyoung’s eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion washed over her. She hummed in content, her voice sleepy but full of warmth as she faded into the quiet, but the love in her tone was unmistakable.

Time seemed to stand still. The world outside—with its chaos and noise—faded into a distant memory, leaving only the peaceful calm that wrapped around Wonyoung and him. In this moment, together, they were safe. Together, they were whole.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #girl group smut #reader insert #male reader #kinkvember #ive smut #wonyoung smut #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung x reader

885 notes · View notes

minarisplaything · 1 year ago

Text

High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung

Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody

Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.

Or maybe that was just you.

When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.

All this was to say it wasn’t easy.

But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.

“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.

You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.

Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.

“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.

“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”

“So you follow them?”

“Them?”

“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.

One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.

You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”

Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.

That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.

It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.

“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.

“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”

“Oh, I remember.”

You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.

“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.

“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”

You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”

“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.

The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.

“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”

“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”

She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.

“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.

By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.

“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”

Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.

“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”

Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.

If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.

Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.

"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."

Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."

She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."

Oh.

You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.

"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.

A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.

"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.

Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.

"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.

"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.

Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."

"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.

There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."

"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.

"Is the princess feeling full?"

"So, so full…" she cooed.

"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.

You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.

You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.

A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.

"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."

She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.

"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"

One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.

"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."

Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.

"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"

It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."

You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.

"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""

You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.

Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.

Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.

After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.

"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.

"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."

You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."

Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.

"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.

Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.

"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."

A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#wonyoung smut #ive smut #girl group smut #ive imagines #wonyoung imagines #ive x reader #male reader #wonyoung x male reader

2K notes · View notes

giuliettagaltieri · 1 year ago

Text

Where the Blue Roses Grow

Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Snippets from the life of Gojō Satoru and yours. Where the two of you journey on a path that was predetermined for you, with hearts bruised and unforeseen emotions blossoming.

Warning: angst, unrequited love, suggested misogyny, jujutsu society stigma, arranged marriage, age gap, innuendos, deflowering, hints of dub/con, explicit sex, unprotected sex, implied breeding, breastfeeding, lactation kink, mild spoilers

Disclaimer: This is a miniseries, chapter length will be shorter than regular fics. The Jujutsu Kaisen characters belong to their respective owners, reader is female. Skin tone and body type mentions were limited for better reading experience. If any characteristics of y/n bothers you, or if any of the warnings does not agree with you, I advise you not to proceed to read the story.

Chapter Count: 9

Status: Completed

Masterlist

i. Breath of Spring

ii. Thirst for Sunshine

iii. Swarm of Bees

iv. Garden of Uncertainties

v. Cup of Warm Tea

vi. Dance of Mutual Seduction

vii. Giggles and Wiggles

viii. A Bouquet of Honeysuckle

ix. Honey, I'm Home

Omake

Omake 1 •

#gojo satoru x y/n #gojō satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojō x reader #gojō satoru #jujutsu kaisen #husband gojo #arranged marriage #gojo fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru smut #where the blue roses grow #WtBRG Omake #masterlist

2K notes · View notes

scarasimping · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER #2

size kink - capitano

word count - 550

content: fem! anatomy on reader, size difference ofc cause capitano is huge, praise, little bit of belly buldge, begging, dacriphylia, ooc capitano cause ive never written him before

"That's my good girl…" Capitano's gruff voice sounded from above you, a hint of pride hidden in his tone as he watched you slowly take another inch of him in. His calloused hands were hooked under the back of your knees, practically folding you in half with little effort. As he hovered over you, he completely enveloped you with his body, his broad frame shielding you from looking at anything else but him.

Slowly, he slips into you a little more, his gaze fixed in between the two of you as your wet hole struggles to take in his thickness. It stretches to what must be its max, yet you're still not satisfied.

"Please…more," you slur out, head tossed back and fingers gripping onto the sheets beneath you. Already so far gone and he hasn't even properly fucked you yet.

Sure, he spent a good half hour prepping you with his thick fingers and his tongue, making you cum a few times already just so you could fit him in, but to be so far gone from just a few inches of him pushed into your tight hole is so amusing to him.

You're squeezing around him so nicely, it's taking all his will to not just bully into your cunt all at once. He doesn't want to hurt you, but, archons, nothing has ever felt as good as you do right now.

"You think you can take more? Think you can take all of me today, darlin'?" His voice drawls out, leaning down to place a lingering kiss to your cheek as some of the tears spill from your eyes. The salty taste is welcome on his lips, a smile tugging its way onto his face at the sight of you eagerly nodding foe more of him despite feeling so full already. His hands, big enough to fully wrap around your whole thigh if he used both of them, caress the back of your thighs and press you further into the mattress. He begins to push more of his length inside you, kissing away each and every tear that spills from your waterline, until he feels himself bottom out inside of you for the first time.

A low groan slips out from the depths of his throat at the feeling of your warm walls encasing his entire length, his heavy balls squished against the roundness of your ass just begging to be emptied in you. The tip of him feels like it's grazing your cervix.

Capitano sits and waits for you to adjust for a few agonizing minutes, his cock twitching eagerly inside you.

Heavy breaths mix as he leans in and kisses you, before finally pulling back and making the first thrust. It takes everything you have to hold back the loud moan that threatened to escape you, focusing on the feeling of his lips on yours instead.

"So good..taking me so good," he grunts out, his hand coming to rest on the bottom of your stomach when he feels it. Himself, moving around inside you, just barely showing through your tummy as he burrows into you once more.

"Gonna ruin you…" he promises, but he knows you can take it. When he's done with you, your insides will be molded into the shape of his cock.

#il capitano #capitano #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin drabble #genshin smut #capitano smut #capitano x reader #il capitano x reader #il capitano smut #kinktober 2023

1K notes · View notes

vyzz-undercover · 4 months ago

Text

the voices have made this happen

[cato/f!ambassador]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

(5,900ish words) (OUUGHHHHH)

CONTENT WARNINGS:

•slight dubcon

•hints of size kink [obligatory]

•vaginal fingering

•oral [f receiving]

•mild possessive behaviour

•the consequences of ignoring important medical devices

•mentions of (hypothetical) torture

•tumblrs recurringly cancerous formatting

———————————————————————————————————

im back on my bullshit after having to do overnights so as payment to the dark gods of whoring and degeneracy i humbly offer this taglist of sweet darling who've indulged my insanity: @the-raven-lady, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @bispecsual, @lemon-russ, @kit-williams, @passionofthesith, @egrets-not-regrets, @moodymisty, @sinistermojo, @justeverythingnothingelse, @pluvio-tea, @thevoidscreams, @beckyninja, @yestheantichrist!!! if you wanna be tagged (or not) in the next let me know!!! also it may take me longer to do a part four to this namely because ive got more wageslaving ahead of me soon but alas i'll definitely have rowboat girlyman catch em. also maybe give cato some top. myehehehehe,,, AND THANK YOU FOR READING AS USUAL ILY ALL!!! :3

———————————————————————————————————

Cato is just about leaving.

After having spent the better part of an hour discussing the predicted destruction pathway of a hive-fleet on the system's rim with his Father; it sends his balls into his throat when you nearly run into him in the chamber's huge archway.

It only takes a fraction of a second to catalogue your presence.

You're wearing the same utilitarian blue robe as you had been last week again.

Last week, when he'd been pounding you insensible on a lounge in the library—Cato promptly quashes the insidious memory, smothering down any sort of reaction. But there is a change in comparison to the dizzying reminder: there's a new addition to the reoccurring outfit.

You've brought a navy, high-collared turtleneck into the mix, layered below your lapels.

So, the efforts of his mouth hadn't gone unheeded, then.

Throne, if he's not smug, he's got no bloody clue what he is.

Cato steps aside and turns to allow you entrance first before his exit.

"Commander Sicarius," you lilt with a soft voice and a small downward tip of your chin, all while holding his gaze.

He's transfixed periodically at the honeyed sort of warmth in your eyes.

Despite himself, he lingers and greets you with a slow, "Lady Ambassador."

The left side of his mouth twitches upward in a half-aborted smirk that he quickly tries to mask as a stern, frown-nod combination.

You break the staring match and Cato's confident he's salvaged his slip-up without detection.

Or not—because oh, fuck—if he doesn't feel the burning focus of a Primarch's eyes boring a hole into the side of his head like a brand.

It only lasts an instant, but the second is an eternity to him.

Of course, you're oblivious to this subtle exchange—and promptly trot past him to his Father's vast desk.

"My Lord Primarch," you say with a curt little bow; and then Guilliman's attention is solely on you, his favourite little pet project. "I read the data-drives you instructed from the preceding article logging. I've arranged them back to the most recent mark counts."

You're looking for an empty spot to lay them on his table, but with all the meticulously arranged stacks, it's none too easy to find one.

"Perfect," the Primarch breaths, "Just on the side there is fine, don't worry."

Obligingly, you lay them atop a small mountain of paperwork.

"Do you need anything else of me, my Lord?" You chirp brightly, the tone of your voice so very painfully sweet—Cato is nearly overwhelmed fighting a pitched battle against the urge to run over, pick you up and shake you around suddenly.

Guilliman chuckles, waving one massive hand about vaguely, "You've done more than enough for me today, why don't we leave it at that for now, hm? Go on."

"Of course; thank you, and have a good evening, my Lord," You say, bow once more, and turn on your heel from the Primarch, and—and smile at Cato as you walk back towards the exit. That's—that's the first time you've smiled at him. His twin hearts lurch, slamming forward against the inside of his fused chest cavity. It's perfect abominable. You rotten temptress, he's—he's going to rectify that audacity later. Or now, if you're... possibly heading the same direction he is. Which is whatever direction you're going, purely by chance.

It's merely coincidence, he swears.

He's certainly not planning on hounding after you like a dog tailing a bitch in heat.

He's certainly not going to drag you into a side room the second he's sure no-one with a credible opinion's around.

He's certainly not going to indulge in anything heretical, like bending you bare over his knee for daring to taunt him.

Cato makes as if to fall in step behind you as you pass the threshold before him, but is quickly halted by his Father's curt, "I do not believe you have been dismissed, Cato."

He's never been subjected to such sinking dread quite so nonchalantly.

"Approach."

Cato complies stuffily, sparing a glance at your figure disappearing down the corridor before acquiescing. He's practically dragging his ceramite boots across the intricate rugs as he nears the Primarch's seated but colossal form.

Guilliman isn't looking at him, having had returned to notating a miscellaneous form.

The scritch-scratch of his gene-sire's preferred, yet archaic method of manually writing on the parchment is like someone grating a plate with a fork to his ears right now.

"You've gotten over your petty grievances regarding the Ambassador at last, I take it?" Guilliman asks, without looking up.

It is not Cato's duty to like or dislike. Nor is it to be biased without reason—his opinions are to be intellectual, not emotional. His duty is to assess, analyse and provide feedback, so that his Primarch can take it into account when making rulings and decisions.

Cato swallows around the proverbial hunk of drywall lodged in his throat and answers, "She has proven herself... useful, yes, sire."

Guilliman finally meets his eyes but says nothing for a short while. There's dark bags under his Primarch's eyes, and the deep, stern crease permanently between his dark blonde brows is a slight bit harsher, but the only thing Cato can parse out of the expression's intent is a vague sense of knowing. Because, insofar, he's thought himself quite adept at reading his Primarch; and rather well versed in deciphering the intricacies of his moods.

And right now, he feels like he's being read like an open manuscript.

The daunting prospect Cato's caught sinks it's teeth in his gullet. It's impossible, he's not left any room for suspicion, he's covered his tracks—there's no logical reason why he should be getting raked with such a look.

His gene-sire isn't a psyker nor omniscient, just impossibly intelligent—and so absurdly good at the mathematics of plotting and planning that it only appears superficially as if he is all-seeing. He can't possibly know what Cato has been doing—or rather, who he's been doing.

"It's about time," his Father hums abruptly, suddenly disinterested. "Now you're dismissed."

Cato nods, turns on his boot heel, and nigh bolts marches out the room. His proverbial tail definitely not between his legs.

The hall outside Guilliman's apartments is a central domed area that functions as a meeting area, where people go to one of six looming hallways. It's the bottom of a series of levels; and above, three echelons encircled by arcades and balustrades, framed on the exterior by engaged columns.

But the structure itself is immense and ancient, even by Imperial standards. One of the few still-original, unaltered parts of the great Gloriana-class warship's innards. It is doused in long swathes of red carpet and great standards of Magcraggian note, alongside glorious, heroic frescoes depicting Legiones Astartes in their thousands, crusading across the heavens with the Emperor their head.

Cato keeps his head down as he passes them, uneasy with guilt. Feeling as if their lenses are following him—intent on venturing into the lower layers to brood.

Several Astartes are hovering about amongst the personnel and serfs. The baselines look up at him in awe, and his Brothers nod in respect, but he pays them all no mind.

The furthest corridor beckons him, and so he goes; down the complex system of broad walks with high, barrel vault ceilings, mazing through the vessel's higher clearance reaches like arteries through a body.

Cato is seething, and self-admittedly itching to take a howler of a swing at the next thing that speaks to him.

He cuts down the southern channel and sees one of his subordinate Victrix Guard lingering in the middle of a groin vault intersection.

The younger Astartes is about to continue straight, yet he pauses.

Brother Marcellus meets Cato's eyes for a second, clearly notes his Commander's absolutely stinking mood from a hundred meters off; nods, swallows, takes a step backward—and changes direction to go left rather than pass him.

Cato's too pissed to even linger on the strangeness of the action.

Still, he doesn't rightly blame him.

Cato strides on, back straight, chin up—the red shawl pinned beneath his pauldrons swirling behind him.

His thoughts are eating at him the whole while.

He's sure his Primarch is just trying to innocently divine his sudden change of mind regarding you. There's no way his Father's aware of why. And yet, guilt is a big black wolf nipping at his ankles, making him hasten; and unease clouds about his heart. He's mortified, for lack of a better word.

The full implications of the situation are too enormous to be faced all at once; so he picks the smallest, most banal facet he can think of.

That being, you.

You, who he'll never see again if his Primarch finds out.

You, who's practically damned him without knowing it.

You, who he's now valiantly trying not to imagine in a hundred different circumstances where he gets away with it all. Each one more heretical than the last—it's like it was before he'd managed a hand on you: his body giving in to suffocating delusions, sleepless in his cot; lapping at whatever scant, lust-soaked morsels his mind offers up.

One of his favourites remains you scantily clad beneath a moonlit night sky, on the parapet of his ancestral fortress on the coastal edge of Perusia.

He likes to fantasise you like it there.

He suspects you would.

He knows just about all there is to know about you on paper, and wonders if you know much of Talassar. Or if you've read about Castra Tanagra. He assumes Guilliman would share the tale of that famed old battle with you as a part of your readings.

Each impossible reverie is a new shiny nail in his coffin, or dreadnaut—it depends where and how he dies, and if there's anything scrape up of him when he eventually goes down in a blaze of glory and duty, and honour.

If his Primarch catches him, there's going to be none of that.

He'll be struck from living record, like Titus had been. Cato would be lucky to get a little plaque in the deepest pits of the Fortress of Hera. Reduced to a whispered memory of his achievements passed solemnly between Captains, followed up with words of disappointment. Of waste. Until his memory dies with them and his deeds fade into obscurity, lost to any new brothers.

The fate that awaits you would somehow be worse. Cato was always going to die in war, as was his right—but you—you were not fashioned for such things. Yes, Guilliman enjoys you, but that fact won't save you. Just like it won't save Cato for all his usefulness. You'd be tried as a heretic, as a source of corruption upon the Legiones, and you'd be made to suffer; because torture ever comes before execution. You're so very soft weak in so very many ways. Your life lived in a gilded cage, without pain nor discomfort that extends further than grating professional grievances—he doesn't want to imagine the sound of you screaming, but he does.

He cannot stand the thought.

The sudden urge to barricade you in his chambers for permanent safe keeping is all-consuming.

It's suddenly all he can think about.

He has to find you.

The amount of serfs passing and parting to allow his passage thin out to nothing.

Even from the sterile confines of one of the many winding hallways, Cato abruptly swears he can hear the echoed rush of sandals—your sandals—reverberating off the floor.

He hadn't notice you following behind immediately because, damn it, he's spiralling thinking.

He chances a confrontation, and rounds about-face.

You stand there in the middle of the empty hallway like you've got a bolter aimed at you, frozen.

"Come here," he says, clipped.

You do not.

"Come here."

Again, no compliance.

"Do you pride yourself on being a idiot?" His voice is scathing now, taking a heavy step into your space and being met by you staying stock stiff, still. "Do you have any idea what that stunt of yours earlier might incur?"

"What?" You blink, finally animating. "I didn't do anything—"

"You know what you did," he hisses, accusatory. "You're hollow between the ears, but you're not blind."

Lips pursing tightly in mental deliberation, you make a fey noise of annoyance as a little frown graces your features, apparently not deigning to offer a comment back.

"Do you not understand that... this," he gesticulates between you both and his voice falls to a whisper. "This... is not common allowance?"

"It's not?"

Are you being intentionally dense at this point, or is it just second nature?

Cato raises a hand to knead the crease between his brows, "No."

"That explains a lot, actually," you say, seemingly without any real comprehension on the gravity of the matter. "I couldn't find any notes or references on it."

He's genuinely stunned, "Is that what you were doing when—"

"When I was rudely interrupted," you cut in, the comment is nigh a spat insult.

Cato isn't sure what to say to that sudden display of spine, and grumbles.

He surmises the optimal action is complete disregard.

Therefore, he has no problem turning on the heel of his sabatons and starting his pace on again.

"So... this isn't normal by Astartes standards?"

He's taken aback at your abrupt want for conversation after all that. Namely because it's atypical. You never attempted small talk with him. You never do anything but scurry off when he's accosted you for you flagrant overstepping—wait.

He feels as if the paradigm between you both has shifted again since the last time for some reason. More than last time, actually. More than you just simply having the audacity to backtalk him.

It's like some symptom of a deeper sickness rising to the surface.

It makes him unreasonably curious suspicious.

He wants to see just how much ground you'll give, so he plays along and answers, "Not as far as I am aware, no."

You hum, and immediately are at it again, posturing, "Surely you have heard of cases of it happening?"

"I have not," Cato says, and you hum in consideration.

You're satisfied at that information for a brief while, but then he remembers you cannot shut your mouth for more than five minutes, and purses his lips. He's already tiring of your incessant questioning.

"But you'd done it before?"

And that's just great.

You've expertly found an exposed nerve.

More kindling on the bonfire of him having an aneurysm before the cycle's end.

Cato can feel the hint of pressure behind his eyes as he begins increasing his walking speed. "I don't think that is a relevant question."

You haste to stay in step, "It definitely is."

"You ought to learn a civil fucking tongue when you're addressing me, woman," he bites out, nose crinkling into a sneer.

Unperturbed by his short-tempered comment, another thoughtful little 'hmm' slips out of you.

"So, to conclude... you were as inexperienced as I was at the start, and all those gloating insults back then were just projection?" You suddenly blurt out at rather impressive speed, like a politician possessed—before finishing with, "Sorry, 'all those gloating insults back then were just projection,' Commander Sicarius."

Cato grits his teeth and feels his eye twitch.

He stops, turns to look over his pauldron, and stares bloody murder.

He can't even imagine the idiocy in your brain that gave you the imprimatur to say that aloud.

But Throne, the sly little glint in your pretty eyes suddenly has his face thudding with heat.

Then you smile at him for the second time ever.

Cato bites back the urge to ogle you dumbly, and actually feels himself thicken in his body-glove in real time, because oh, fuck—his hind brain practically pelts him across the jaw with the mental pict of that sweet mouth lathing up the side of his cock.

Mentally unseated for a moment, his brows furrow; and he quickly turns away, applying himself entirely to the task of trudging down the stagings.

The silence is a breath of fresh air.

Even if he can still hear your laboured breathing a few steps back him from him. You're straining to keep up with his pace, and it's an excellent punishment for you. His heavy sabatons clank-clank-clank on the steel decking, and your little shoes practically pitter-patter in contrast. It's a syncopated rhythm that he's absentmindedly trying to match—and when he lingers for a step he manages to even the beat out.

He hangs a left, and scales the wide stairs to the open intersection platform above two at a time; trying not to snort amusedly at the little groan you let out as you hurry up them behind him, heaving.

Cato realises abruptly that you're actually, really, seriously following him—and pretending you're not.

He makes a right at the top and then waits for you to fall in step.

And, pointedly, he then turns and doubles back around.

You stand there stupefied for a moment, before grumbling softly and continuing down the thoroughfare without him.

If his observation skills hold any weight, he heads straight into the nearest open room and waits for you to follow.

He doesn't activate the locking mechanism on the other side on purpose when he strides in, and lets the sliding door close behind him.

This particular room is forgettable in its ubiquitousness, though unusual. He has no idea of it's actual intended purpose. It's fitted with screens and database terminals as if it's for debriefing purposes, but he has no real way of confirming. What he can catalogue is that there's wraparound surfaces littered with candles. A few strips of harsh lighting and scant furniture—a tallish counter and a few long benches. They're thankfully Astartes sized.

Which means he can sit down and pray for you to walk right into the metaphorical snare he's just laid.

Not a minute later, the door's sliding mechanism triggers and you scurry through—only to promptly go stiff.

You stare at him like a rat he's just found by lifting a crate.

The mechanism shuts automatically behind you and it apparently spooks you enough to jump a little.

"You're disgustingly predictable," he harrumphs, unimpressed.

A flush rises to your face as you scowl, "You're disgustingly predictable," you shoot back, echoing his words.

Of course, that audacity of yours leads to a short stalemate.

He huffs out a sigh as he concedes out of sheer frustration and says, "Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one."

You blink dumbly at him, "...what?"

"It's my locking code," he growls, and Throne, you must be acting stupid just to grate him; because there's no way your brain is so smooth as to not connect the dots. "It's for the door, moron."

A soft 'ohh' leaves you as you turn and step aside to the key pad fixed into the frame.

"Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one," he's agonisingly forced to say once again.

"Three-nine-five-eight-eight-two-seven-one..." you mumble to yourself.

Cato hears an angry beep and suddenly wants to smash his head into a wall repeatedly.

Grinding his molars, he snarls, "Three-seven-five-eight-eight-two-nine-one," and then adds, "If I have to repeat that one more time, I'm going to throw you out of the nearest airlock."

And it seems the threat of violence works wonders, because you don't bungle the input this time.

Cato sighs, exasperated, and leans back against the lip of the table behind the bench.

He ought to start carrying around a correctional stun rod. Just for whenever you annoy him. If it's good enough for a Neophyte to suffer, it's good enough for you, he supposes.

Or it'll send you into a seizing fit.

He's not to sure of the maximum voltage a baseline can take without their singular, puny little heart giving out.

One disciplinary option scratched out, then.

But he can think of many, many more to make a model Ambassador out of you. The wonders of carefully applied violence are plentiful. A little roughing up never hurts, or at least, not for long. And fuck, do you need some lessons on proper manners. He could have you smacked into shape like a show pony in no time—even if it'd be more like teaching a grox to trot lateral movements. Then again, he also believes if he stuck a frag far enough up a Carnifex's ass, he could probably get it to play Regicide.

And then pointedly, he starts thinking about your ass.

Cato is so utterly lost on the tangent of hypotheticals that he's flabbergasted when a small mouth lands on his own.

He hadn't even been paying attention.

He hadn't even noticed you'd neared.

It feels like the breath has been knocked out him at the sheer unexpectedness of it.

The kiss is hasty, your eyes scrunched shut and cheeks flushed, scowling with focus.

All the while, his mind reels because Throne, the contact of his lips to yours doesn't really feel particularly profound aside from how soft your skin is—but the intention of it is the real reward.

Cato's genuinely infuriated when you pull away.

You blink owlishly at him, giving him a cautious look like you're trying to gauge his reaction.

There are a thousand things he wants to ask, to say, but the foremost among them is but one.

"Again," he huffs, lessening the distance between you just enough to invite you back.

And he thinks that perhaps he’s abusing his station over you, but when you tentatively find a hold on his gorget to steady yourself to give him another kiss—those thoughts are all but erased from his mind. It's a curious weight off his shoulders to have you initiate and to show you want him in return, especially since it's as new to you as it is for him.

Nonetheless, he can't even imagine finding a reason to stop you, so he starts blindly mouthing; trying to coordinate around the fact he's so much larger than you.

The angle is difficult, but he's willing to follow your lead. Your body is even more fragile when he's in full armour. The risk of actually hurting you is realer than ever, but he can't help the desire to wrap an gauntlet around your waist and pull you closer to him. Thankfully, you let him when he urges you to, trembling hands flitting across his chestplate like you're unsure of what, exactly, you should be holding—and he catches the tiny line between your brows smoothing out as you risk a peek. Only for you to yelp, nervously wrenching yourself back in flustered surprise upon meeting his unwavering stare.

It's as if you expected something else.

He senses he's made a mistake of some kind.

Then he remembers from the motion-picts he's not supposed to keep glaring at you when kissing.

Regardless, he studies your face, memorising the lingering want still clearly there like his life depends on it.

He pulls you in and kisses you again, just because he can, this time brief and chaste. And then he goes for a third, fourth—fifth, each time slightly longer, until finally he rears back; and when he does you push up on your toes just a little, trying to chase him, but lose the nerve; although to Cato the reason for your faltering is, frankly, irrelevant. Because just like him, you lack the practical capacity to really know what next step you should take. Still, you look down at his armour, as if there's a latch to pull that magically undoes all his wargear.

He knows he's not going to get himself out of his armour in any reasonable way or amount of time.

There's no way he's getting the satisfaction of having you on him right now—but he still wants to keep you near.

He thinks he hears you ask for something, but he's too distracted to catch it in time.

"What?" Cato scowls, "What do you want now?"

It's clear you've been struck by your own embarrassment, strung up somewhere between shy and wanton, "I.. uh..."

"Spit it out," he rumbles.

You wince, hesitant as you mumble, "You, uh... i-in me."

Cato's brain skids to a halt. And it's the gall of that request alone that has him sweeping you up off the ground and spinning you around to sit in his lap.

It's obvious you're overwhelmed at being held to the formidably larger size of himself in full-plate. But as usual, you're yet to actively complain. Using his vambrace as a leg-bar to scoop under your thighs, he folds you in his grasp—your knees pressed to your chest as you're tucked back against his pauldron and chestplate.

The angle forces the hems of your robe aside, and he can see the underside curve of your ass; along with the plump mound of your vulva under the white of your small-clothes.

Cato's suddenly offended by their existence. You didn't wear any last time, so why now? The irritation of there being one more thing between you and him is enough justification to yank at them, tearing them loose—before throwing them aside.

You grumble sourly, which he chooses to ignore.

The palm of his gauntlet smooths across your hip, and you make a small huff as you shiver, goose-bumps suddenly covering your exposed flesh.

Cato lets the pads graze closer and closer to your sex, content to watch you impatiently glare at his armoured fingers from between the gap of your thighs.

With little preamble, he's stuffing his middle in. You're already so wet it's practically a cake-walk. Your cunt swallows down each articulating segment of his armoured finger down to the knuckle. The fact he's going to have to personally scrub your slick out from between the joints, instead of a lowly serf, is infinitely worth the shrill whine he receives as tribute.

"Would that my wargear had a zipper," he breathes, and fuck, he grins behind the obscurity of his gorget at the mournful mewl that remark earns. "I'd have you on your knees sucking for all the cunted trouble you've caused me."

You're making a warp-awful attempt at keeping yourself together, high-strung as you evidently are. Little more than a minute of him pumping his finger in and out of you has you red-faced and panting. All it takes to get those heavy breaths of yours to change into proper whines is his large thumb-pad adjusting to rest on your clit, applying pressure. You jerk, reflexively trying to buck into every motion. Fighting and failing to withhold the stuffy little moans escaping you—trying to stave off the inevitable by scrambling at the thigh plating of his power armour with one hand and tugging at his couter with the other.

Some part of Cato wants to stop solely out of spite for you being so grating earlier, or some other stupid mercurial justification of his; but instead, he simply continues, letting you squirm on his fingers.

And squirm you do.

It's clear to him the tide of it all is becoming too much for you to resist. Your sandal'd feet kick out where he's got your legs secured, joining in on the struggling as it begins anew when his thumb starts circling. It's a good sign, so he adds his pointer into you to bolster the stretch, curling in; before letting his fingers fan out inside you, stretching rather than stabbing. Your hips try to stutter forward in time with the quick thrusting of his digits, broken whimpers resonating off the room's walls. He promptly stuffs down to the knuckle and curls them again—and you all but bleat his surname as you're dragged into a fast and apparently exhausting orgasm. Just knowing he's you got you beat has his erection ache where it's trapped under the suiting and plating of his navel.

Cato can't feel you clenching through all the layers separating his skin from yours, but he knows from experience that you're seizing in fits internally—tight little cunt trying to milk a load out of an Astartes cock that should've been stuffed in you.

Just to allow himself one last bit of smugness, he scissors his fingers; giving a final swirl for good measure.

The shivered sob is worth every possible future disciplinary action he'll receive.

He pulls his gauntlet away slowly, and the wet shlick of it leaving you is almost amusingly alike pulling a blade from sinew. It's a degenerate comparison, he knows, but it's true.

Nonetheless, he splays out his hand and swallows dryly, eyeing the sticky, clear liquid webbing out and thinning between each ridge of his gauntlet'd digits.

Suddenly focused entirely on the fluid on his fingers, he pulls his vambrace barring under your knees up away. Now limp, and without the support, you slide off his lap and onto the floor in a slow slump.

"Nn-ngh," You groan weakly, face-down, legs still juddering a little.

Seeing as you're preoccupied, Cato doesn't even dignify the concept of hesitation, and promptly jams his fingers in his mouth—lathing the aftermath of your orgasm from them. And Throne, the taste of your hormones make him groan. He's absolutely stunned, unsure of how to act. He's so fucking stupid, why didn't he do this earlier? He's practically drugged by the omophagic aftereffect—getting off on your second hand bliss. Some sort of fey feedback loop in his brain catalysing his next decision solely on instinct.

He clambers to the floor and gets to his knees guards, securing a mitt on your bared thigh to roll you onto your back.

Apparently boneless with afterglow, you're easy to manhandle.

You barely have the strength to do much more than crane your head up at him and whine as he arranges your thighs apart, settling on his front between them with a warp-awful clank; before lifting your legs up to rest onto either lip of his gorget.

You try to scud back on your ass suddenly, but are quickly halted when he holds you fast by the hip.

He raises a confused brow.

"I-Isn't—" you start, still gathering the scraps of your brain together so soon post-orgasm, "Isn't y-your saliva acid?"

Cato suddenly wants to cuff you on the ear, "Who the hell told you that?"

"M-Master Calgar," you mumble.

Oh, of course, the gossiping hen.

He's going to have words with the Lord Defender of Greater Ultramar the next time they meet—words like 'for fuck sakes, stop scaring the woman he's trying to eat out with talk of Betcher's gland, Marneus,' come to mind, but then Cato realises that doesn't sound like he's not fucking you, so he quickly settles on: 'stop dignifying the Ambassador's hundred-and-one insane questions.'

"Not Ultramarines," Cato manages not to snarl, "It's a vestigial organ in most of us."

Your voice is shaky as you parrot, "Most of us?"

"Yes," He grunts, and promptly buries his face in your cunt.

The disproportion in size is painfully apparent when he realises his whole damned tongue is able to drag a stripe up the entire splay of you with minimal effort.

The pitched gasp he wins out of you is pure sin, and he's on the brink of swooning; but then you're running your trap again.

"Please, d-don't tell me you're one that can spit acid—" you manage to warble, seemingly still stuck on the topic.

Cato sighs as he's forced to pull away from your vulva, "I think you're forgetting I had my tongue on your tonsils in the library."

"Th-that's different," you stammer. "That's not as sensitive."

A long, unimpressed deadpan paints itself on his face.

"So," he starts with a bated hiss, "And let me be perfectly clear in this—you believe your vagina is more susceptible to burns than your mouth?"

Your face transforms into a strange mix of embarrassed and angry.

"I didn't say that—"

"Yes, you did," Cato grumbles.

"Did not," you huff.

"You—you just fucking did," he snaps, frustrated enough that he can feel one of the veins at his temple bulge. "The implication is obvious, you insufferable little whore."

You snort, but stay silent.

The argument appears, for all intents and purposes, to be finished.

"Did not," you say abruptly once more, pouting.

Cato's eyes roll back in his skull as he grits his teeth.

"Throne of Terra, if you don't drop the subject, acid in your cunt will be the least of your worries," he all but snarls, and that apparently quietens you enough that he can get back to lapping at you—the flat of his tongue running over your clit and earning a jolt.

He wraps his lips around the pink little nub and sucks. And that's all it apparently takes to make up for his amateur career in the practice.

You siphon down a sharp breath and let out a garbled cry, hips canting forward into his mouth—to which he obligingly stuffs his tongue into your slick entrance.

There's a satisfaction well beyond simple pleasure that swamps him at the way your thighs shake either side of his head. His own breath is hot about him, stuffy and dizzying; and the skin pressed against his cheeks is warm and smooth.

You're panting when he goes back to lapping over your clit, perching yourself up on a bent elbow and reaching out a hand.

Your fingers card through the messed brown hair atop his head. And he stiffens without realising—but he realises something: like this, the touch is ecstasy—pure, golden ecstasy. Every bit of higher thought in his head evaporates when you stroke him again.

A long, rumbling subvocal moan tears from him.

The infrasound vibration makes you buck weakly into his mouth again, teary eyed afore him as he adjusts his grip on you and crawls closer.

He's suddenly acutely aware that in this new, much more prone position, he's able to grind his body armour into his groin guard pressed on the floor. And as soon as the action bears results—namely a scorching burr of pleasure racing up his spine—he's deadset on rutting against the ground like a slavering beast.

He's frotting himself at a pace so rabid it'd be cruel to subject your cunt to. It's brutal, and the harsh scraping sound of plasteel on steel only further proves that. It's just frantic lust—he's desperate.

It's complete insanity how close to finishing he is so quickly.

Not as close as you, though.

He can feel how your legs jump with each pass of his tongue; and then you're unraveling in front of his very eyes.

"I-I can't—I can't, S-Sicarius, I-I—" You ramble, dazed, trying to get away as he works you right through it, sobbing and oversensitive while he's rutting himself closer and closer to his own end.

It all comes to a head when your fingers dig into his hair, tugging—and his brain is overrun with static. A drawn out groan scathes from his maw as any sense of rhythm scatters like light through a prism. For a fraction of a second, the pleasure is serene.

Then it's abject agony, he feels—he feels like Roboute Guilliman himself has just taken a running start and kicked him in the balls.

"F-Fuck–ing—gh—" he chokes, vision swimming, straining against the tide of the torment. His back arches up, and he curls inward on himself; white-hot pain clocking his nervous system into overdrive. Every muscle in his abdomen is doused in acid. He's tolerated being shot, stabbed, burnt without so much as blinking—but this is an entirely new and entirely different sort of wound. It's like he's pissing promethium. It's—it's the catheter, he realises. He'd forgotten about the bloody catheter jammed up his cock.

Through the searing ordeal, he manages to force his armour's facilities to finally abide his impulses and dose him with a pain dampener.

And then everything's fine.

He opens eyes he wasn't aware he'd closed and finds your face has suddenly gotten far closer to his.

"S-Sicarius?" You stammer, and there's an honest panic in your voice. "Sicarius, p-please, please—a-are you okay?"

He realises he's on his back, and you're sitting beside him, half draped on his chestplate, frantically trying to figure out what's wrong with him to no avail.

You've leaned in so close he can feel your rushed breathing.

"I'm fine," Cato groans, and you sputter out a sigh.

"I-I don't know what happened, I-I—" you're still wildly confused and raving, and he inhales deeply; only to be greeted by the sour animal stink of fear practically dripping from you.

Cato rolls his tongue around inside his mouth and cringes knowingly at the foaming side-effect of the chem he'd self-administered, the acrid taste mixed with your slick is certainly not an ideal cocktail.

The sincerity of concern behind your reaction is baffling. He's not made of glass, for fuck sakes—and he's a bit pissy about the fact you'd actually fallen victim to the idea of him suffering some grievous injury so easily. But he supposes where there's a will of baseline overreaction, there's a way.

"You're acting like a child, woman. Pull yourself together," he sighs hoarsely, hoping the comment jars you out of your hysteria—or at the very least scares you off.

It does exactly neither, and you sidle in closer and rest your cheek on his jaw.

It’s an action so overwhelmingly horribly affectionate that it would’ve been a crime to not press into it with a lean of his head. Or, at least, that's the half-assed justification he tells himself.

Because he's loving enduring your attention, not seeking it; and therefore only humouring you when he lifts a hand and settles the wide splay of it on your flank as a comfort.

He shouldn't be, but he is.

#warhammer 40k x reader #warhammer 40k #reader insert #warhammer fanfic #cato sicarius #space marine x reader #cato sicarius x reader #writing #ultramarines #cato 'im going to kill the next person i fucking see' sicarius #*squeaky noise*#ambassador 'omg hiiiii'#FUCKKK #anyways #roboute guilliman #i am so fucking sorry you have to deal with this shit baby girl #also LMFAO I DO THINK CALGAR LOOOOVES A GOOD BITCHING SESSION

211 notes · View notes

xpeachy-keenx · 1 month ago

Text

"a quiet unraveling" — h. star rail

PAIRING dan heng x fem!reader

TAGS masturbation. phone sex. voice kink.

Dan Heng awoke to the hum of the Astral Express, its rhythmic vibrations easing him into wakefulness. A faint beep of the data bank confirmed the files he'd uploaded overnight were complete, though he felt no hurry to leave his futon. Early morning suited him—a rare pocket of solitude before the day's obligations began.

Moments like these were precious. Here, he was able to distance himself from the fragmented nightmares lingering in the recesses of his mind. In this fleeting stillness, he almost believed he was simply a Nameless, adrift among the stars. Yet, as the Express hurtled through space, the next warp navigation meeting was still days away; a familiar weight of unresolved matters pressed on him. Adopting the name "Dan Heng" was supposed to be a fresh start; a chance to leave everything behind. Yet echoes of his former self clung to him, heavy and unshakable.

For now, though, the past could remain where it belonged.

Today was about the present.

He began his morning ritual, methodically checking the data bank to ensure he had uploaded everything and hadn't missed anything crucial. This could stretch on for hours if left undisturbed, though he knew March 7th or Pom-Pom would likely interrupt, as they always did. Absorbed in his work, Dan Heng took notes on streamlining the archives, refining the system with quiet efficiency. A knock at the door brought him back to reality.

He glanced at his phone.

10:58 AM.

The next part of his day would begin soon. Beyond the archives, the others would likely be gathered in the passenger car, their light chatter filling the space. Breakfast would be over now, and the Trailblazer would bring his energy and liveliness to the entire train. Dan Heng preferred to sit on the periphery of these instances, close enough to bask in the companionship but distant enough to maintain his peace. Watching the stars stream past in their endless darkness brought him a comfort he couldn't quite explain, a tranquility rivaled only by losing himself in a good book.

After being on his feet for hours, he stretched until his joints gave soft, satisfying pops, then crossed the room to unlock the door. He expected March, Pom-Pom, or perhaps Caelus. Instead, standing there, smiling as if you'd been expecting him, was you.

You were the crew's newest addition, having joined after the Express intervened in the Stellaron crisis on Jarilo-IV. Dan Heng had first encountered you at the Fight Club—a dim, smoky venue filled with the roar of a crowd hungry for spectacle. As an on-site medic, you navigated the chaos with purpose. Your hands moved with precision, tending to the injured with a practiced grace that made you seem unflappable.

"There's no stopping people from having their fun," you'd said, shrugging as you gave him a wry smile. "So, the least I can do is keep them out of Nat's clinic."

Your words hinted at something deeper beneath the calm exterior—a sadness Dan Heng recognized, a reflection of the Underworld's hardships. Perhaps it was how you coped by focusing on others' needs. He didn't pry. Just as he turned to leave, you stopped him.

"Hey, are you doing okay?"

The question caught him off guard. Had something slipped through his composure? His nights had been restless, plagued by nightmares he'd rather forget. And yet, your eyes held an awareness, a depth that searched beyond the surface.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly.

You tapped your chin, studying him. Then, with a faint smirk, you said, "But you're set on becoming the champion."

He crossed his arms, meeting your gaze with a quiet resolve. "I have my reasons."

After a brief pause, he added, "It's practical."

You seemed to get the message, but your eyes lingered on him for a short time before you focused on the octagonal fighting ring.

"Just be careful with Sampo."

His thoughts had already moved on to the fight, but your warning stayed with him. There was something about you—your demeanor, the way you seemed to notice things others didn't—that unnerved him in a way he couldn't articulate. And as he stepped into the ring, your gaze lingered on him, carrying an intensity that seemed to trail after him, unspoken but persistent.

"Good morning, Dan Heng!" you greeted, a little breathless as you stood before him. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I'm almost done with the health check-ins, and you're the last one on my list." You hesitated for a second, then said, "I noticed you weren't at breakfast earlier."

He regarded you with polite neutrality. "Good morning. I didn't realize you were checking in with everyone. As for breakfast, I wasn't particularly hungry."

Smiling, you shifted your weight, a serene confidence in your stance. "I find it's helpful to check in with everyone one-by-one, especially while I'm still settling in."

"And how have your check-ins been going so far?"

"Pom-Pom's obsessed with everyone's diet and sleep routines," you said with a light chuckle. "I reassured them everything's fine, though I'm not sure they appreciated me asking if I could study them."

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow, subdued amusement in his expression. As you realized you were standing in his way, you stepped aside, mumbling an apology. He waved it off.

Falling into step beside him, you continued with, "Himeko was gracious and even offered me coffee, though I think she was testing my nerves. Is her coffee always that, uh …"

"It's less of a drink," he said dryly, "and more of a rite of passage."

Your laughter rang out, a genuine sound of surprise that caught even you off guard. The two of you made your way toward the dining car, your footsteps dampened by the carpeted floors. A warmth enveloped the train, the kind of comfort that seemed to invite ease without asking.

"Mr. Yang is as insightful as he is kind. I ended up listening more than talking. March kept things lively, as expected. We covered about a dozen topics in just a few minutes, mostly about her latest photos of everyone on the Express. And Caelus? Perceptive and straightforward, which is refreshing."

Dan Heng nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. "Sounds like you've gotten to know everyone fairly well, given it's only been a few days."

"I hope so. I'd like to be useful here."

Polished silver gleamed under the dining car's lights, crisp white tablecloths stretched taut over a long line of tables, and Pom-Pom had meticulously arranged delicate porcelain plates. Their attention to detail was obvious in every corner of the space, adding a homely elegance to the otherwise mechanical vastness of the Express.

"It's important to me that everyone knows I'm here to help," you said, glancing his way. "Even if it's just with a quick check-in."

Dan Heng stood at the kitchen's entrance, turning to you with a slight arch of his brow. "You're rather committed to this," he said, his words detached but carrying an undertone of curiosity.

"Just making sure I do a thorough job."

He hummed in acknowledgement, moving to the cabinets and retrieving items with deliberate motions. Tea leaves, honey, and a few other ingredients appeared on the counter in a neat array.

"Is this persistence part of the medic's protocol," he asked as he worked, "or is it more of a personal strategy?"

"A little of both, I think."

There was a playful lilt in your voice, and though his back was towards you, he sensed you were smiling.

"You seem to know how to keep your distance when you want to, so I thought I'd make it a bit harder for you to slip away."

He glanced at you then, a flicker of challenge sparking in his eyes. "Most people take the hint."

You were undeterred as you sized him up. "Well, I guess that makes me a little different. In the Underworld, part of my role was making sure no one was forgotten, even if they wanted to be left alone."

An underlying sense of homesickness colored your words. Dan Heng's expression softened almost imperceptibly, his hands pausing in their task. After a beat, he exhaled, a sound that was both resignation and subtle acceptance.

"Fine."

***

You sit across from him in the dining car, the space quiet except for the hum of the train and the faint click of utensils against a plate. The vastness of space outside the windows felt almost endless, a shimmering sea of stars, with Jarilo-IV a distant spark in the cosmic expanse. The sight is breathtaking, but you can't help but focus on him—Dan Heng, in his usual composed manner.

He's eating in peace, and you respect that. The stillness suited him, as if he's able to exist fully in it. But the notebook he's been writing in draws your attention. You've seen him do this every morning before breakfast—writing a page, his concentration absolute. You ask about it, your voice casual, though there's a curiosity with your words.

"It helps me prioritize what I should focus on in the archives for the day."

His voice is low, even, and the way he said it led you to consider there was more behind the habit than mere organization. A coping mechanism, perhaps. You wanted to know more, but returned your focus to the window, not wanting to force him to talk. Life aboard the Astral Express was surreal. You arrived a few days ago, and the faces of Himeko, Welt, and Pom-Pom seemed like distant memories of a dream until you looked around and realized the reality of your situation.

The warp jump had been an experience in itself, one that left you nauseated, a reminder of how little you knew about this new world. And yet, despite the disorientation, you found a rhythm here. Dan Heng, though, remained a mystery. March complained about his aloofness, but didn't share that judgment. You've never felt slighted by him. There's something about his presence, stoic as it is, that makes you assume he's waiting for the right time to open up.

"It's hard to believe this is something you all get to see every day," you say before you realize it, your words hushed, almost absent. You've been staring at the stars for a while, but now you're aware of him watching you. His gaze follows yours, but he remains silent, as if lost in his own mind.

"Growing up," you continued, letting your fingertip trace patterns in the tablecloth, "if it weren't for Natasha and Oleg, I might not have even believed the sky was real. They described it perfectly, though I never expected it to be like this."

You fall quiet, your eyes drifting down to the table. It's a minor revelation, but you don't mind sharing it. Not with him. He's someone whose reserved nature invites secrets.

Dan Heng's voice broke the silence.

"Why'd you leave home? You seem like you miss everyone."

You make eye contact with him, the question settling over you. You rest your elbows on the table, more casual than you'd normally be in such a setting—Pom-Pom would definitely scold you for that. Still, you don't pull back.

"Of course, I miss them. But all I've ever known was the Underworld. Being there was like existing in the shadows of Natasha and Seele. As much as I love them, I needed to figure out who I could be on my own."

You paused, a faint smile touching your lips.

"We still keep in touch when we can, though. It helps, knowing they're a message away."

His expression relaxed, enough for you to recognize that your words reached him. "That's very insightful."

Your smile widened as you changed the topic. "So, what about you? Nothing too personal, I promise. Just—how's your sleep? Your diet? Your stress levels?"

He hesitates, lips parted, like he's weighing his answer. You waited, letting the silence stretch between you, but you didn't push. You know what it's like to be asked questions you don't want to answer. And there's something in the way he's looking at you now, as if he knows that you're not asking out of casual curiosity.

"I'm getting by."

You noticed the way his eyes held yours with a subtle intensity. It's almost as if he's hiding something. You tempered the moment with a gentle smile, closing your eyes briefly before looking away.

"It's not the most reassuring answer," you say with a chuckle, "but I'll take it."

You leaned back, hoping to put him at ease. "Just so you know, I'm here as a friend first. I might have medical training, but you don't have to treat me like I'm a professional. I thought knowing a little might help me understand how to support you should you ever need it."

Your words hung in the air for an instant, and you wondered if he'd say anything in response. Instead, his gaze held steady, contemplative but unreadable, leaving you unsure if he appreciated your sentiment or simply tolerated it.

You checked the time on your phone, feeling a pang of regret. "Actually, Pom-Pom is helping me set up the medbay today, so I should probably get going. Sorry if I'm cutting this short."

You stood, tucking your chair back under the table, though your attention lingered on him for a moment longer.

"Oh—one last thing."

You hesitated, hoping the question wouldn't seem too intrusive. "Would it be alright if I visited the archive room sometime? There might be some information in the data bank that could be useful for me."

His expression didn't change as he gave a small shake of his head. "No, I don't mind."

"Great. Thanks, Dan Heng."

You smiled again, warm but not overbearing, then turned to leave.

"I'll see you later."

***

There had been a change to his routine.

It was subtle at first, slipping by unnoticed until it was too late to ignore. Another two days had passed since you'd asked to visit the archives, and you followed through on that request, stopping by during the late hours when the two of you were often the only ones awake.

On a night when a brutal nightmare robbed him of sleep, Dan Heng discovered your shared insomnia. He'd woken in a cold sweat, the remnants of the dream clinging to him, and knew then that sleep would not return.

The dimly lit cars of the Express greeted him as he exited the archives, their quietness broken only by the train's droning. He moved through the corridors, intending to brew tea in the kitchen to keep himself occupied. But as he passed the medbay, he noticed light spilling from beneath the door, followed by the faint sounds of shuffling papers and rustling fabric—sounds magnified in the stillness. Dan Heng hadn't intended to stop. Yet, as he retraced his steps, tea in hand, a frustrated groan caught his attention.

"Ugh, no, that's not right."

Curiosity tugged at him, and before he could think better of it, he stepped closer. The door slid open just as you were about to leave, bleary-eyed, dark circles visible under your eyes.

"Oh, Dan Heng," you said, blinking in surprise, "you shouldn't be up this late. Or early."

"I could say the same for you," he replied, glancing at the room's interior.

Textbooks, notebooks, and loose pages lay scattered across a table in an organized chaos.

"Mm, touché." You rubbed your eyes and stifled a yawn before tilting your head at him. "So, what brings you here? Need help with something?"

"I heard you talking to yourself. I thought something might be wrong."

Your face scrunched up in frustration before you gestured toward the medbay. "Got a minute? I could use another set of eyes on this."

Without waiting for an answer, you ushered him inside and handed over a stack of handbound papers. As Dan Heng flipped through the first few pages, he noted the dense shorthand and intricate diagrams you'd scrawled across the margins.

"Because of the Underworld's exposure to artificial light and polluted air, a lot of residents are developing something we've started calling 'shadow-light affliction.' You'd think vitamin D supplements and air purifiers would help, but so far, the results have been underwhelming. Nat and I are stuck. Nothing adds up."

You exhaled heavily, glancing off to the side, your expression clouded with fatigue. "And now she's noticing signs of cold exposure in Overworlders, symptoms that don't respond to the usual remedies. We'd need to create a solution practically from scratch just to get a handle on these cases."

As you trailed off, Dan Heng scrutinized you. He noted the weight of your words and the way your shoulders sagged; the faint sway in your stance betraying your lack of rest.

There was a pregnant pause.

"You're carrying a lot with this work," he said finally. "But if anyone can work it out, it's you. Just—remember to take care of yourself, too. Rest is as important as any of this."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You slumped into the chair at your desk, rubbing your forehead. "But honestly, I can't go back to sleep right now. Even if I wanted to."

The similarity of your predicament struck Dan Heng, but he offered no response, preferring not to pry.

"Mm, well, I have this trick."

You paused, too tired to register the implication of your words. The moment it clicked, you sat up abruptly, rushing to clarify. "No, not like that! I mean, I just, uh—"

Dan Heng blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Though his expression remained passive, his lips twitched as he held back a smirk.

"You're certainly creative. Maybe save your 'tricks' for after you've gotten a few system hours of rest."

You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. "Please, just. Forget I said anything."

Despite your embarrassment, a soft laugh escaped you, breaking the tension. Dan Heng allowed the incident to pass without further comment, his attention switching to your scattered notes and research.

"If you're insistent on staying awake," he said, "I have a few entries that touch on the physiological effects of prolonged exposure to extreme conditions. There's also a section on terraforming technology and its unintended side effects. It might give you a new angle to approach your research."

From that night onward, he collaborated—if only loosely—on your research. He offered an outsider's perspective, someone you could bounce ideas off of. Dan Heng hadn't mentioned it, but your decision to involve him in your work gave him a chance to improve his own understanding of medicine, a skill he sorely lacked.

"Speaking of which," he asked one night, breaking the stillness as he read through your notes, "how does one properly perform CPR?"

You blinked at him. "Wait, are you saying you don't know? After you—"

"I … thought I did."

You were stunned as you burst out laughing. "Alright, I'll explain the basics of CPR to you. Give me a minute."

You didn't mind answering his occasional questions, and he didn't mind offering his feedback.

Then came the morning of the warp navigation meeting.

Dan Heng had spent the night haunted by the same recurring nightmares, only this time, the man in them addressed him. His words were sharp, cutting deeper than the blade he possessed, leaving a gnawing sense of dread. When he woke, his eyes darted around the confines of his room, half-expecting to find the shadowy figure lurking in the corners.

A sudden knock at his door startled him.

"Dan Heng, come on! You're going to be late to the meeting!" March's muffled voice cut through the haze.

He closed his eyes, letting her voice ground him, pulling him back from the nightmare's grip. This is real, he reminded himself. He wasn't drifting from ship to ship, hunted by the ghost of his past. He was here, on the Astral Express—a place that had given him purpose, structure, and a semblance of stability. But why now? Why did that mean return just as he'd found his footing? Did he not deserve peace?

"Dan Heng—"

"I'll be out in a minute!"

The words came out sharper than intended, and he winced at his tone. He needed to apologize to March later; there was no reason to lash out at her, or anyone for that matter. No one aboard the Express couldn't have known what troubled him. He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to steady the emotions threatening to spill forth.

For what seemed like an eternity, he stayed curled on his side, willing the storm to pass. A faint vibration drew his attention, followed by the glow of his phone screen. When it buzzed a second time, he grabbed it, ready to shut it off—until the message on the lock screen stopped him.

9:48 AM I know sometimes space is what you need, so feel free to ignore this but just wanted to say: if there's anything bothering you, I'm here.

9:50 AM I'm pretty good at listening. Or being a distraction if you'd prefer that. Take your time.

Dan Heng stared at your message, reading it over and over as if the words might change. Slowly, he unlocked his phone, hesitating before typing out a reply.

9:58 AM Okay. Thank you.

Your response came almost immediately: an emoji of Pom-Pom giving a thumbs up. Despite himself, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. With a deep breath, he finally pulled himself together. But as soon as he stepped out of the archives, he sensed something was wrong.

March and Caelus were waiting for him, their faces tight with urgency as they explained what had happened in his absence.

The Stellaron Hunters.

The Xianzhou Luofu.

Dan Heng's stomach churned at the mention of the two, but exhaustion dulled the sharp edges of his fear. His past was catching up to him far sooner than he'd hoped. He spent the rest of his day in the archives, poring over books and articles with single-minded determination. The entries on the Xianzhou Alliance were sparse—a patchwork of historical notes that predated his arrival on the Express. He'd avoided this subject for so long, unwilling to confront the painful memories it unearthed.

He instead examined the entries you contributed to. Before you, the archive had been technical; territory he'd navigated with confidence. But with your updates, it has evolved, now reflecting more nuanced and practical perspectives. His name was no longer the main one listed among the editors, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Tearing his eyes from the screen, he checked his phone.

11:45 PM.

No new messages from you. Still, he was certain you'd be awake at this hour. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, watching the cursor blink back at him.

What should he say?

Should he ask for updates on your research or start with something casual?

He frowned, chastising himself for overthinking something as simple as a text message. With a sigh, he typed out a brief text and slid his phone into his pocket, resolving to refocus on the data bank. The cursor on the terminal's screen seemed to mock his lack of progress, blinking insistently as his thoughts refused to align.

Then, his phone vibrated, the feeling startling in the otherwise still space.

Your name lit up the screen.

He rarely received calls, having expounded that he preferred texts unless it was an emergency. The sudden disruption sent his mind racing. Without hesitating, he answered, holding the phone to his ear.

"Hello? Are you in any trouble?"

There was no response—only faint static on your end. Dan Heng's heart raced, his thoughts spiraling as fear clawed at him. His mind was a minefield, primed by his nightmares and the threat of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Are you there? What's going on?" he pressed, gripping his phone.

The static intensified, and his breath hitched as he strained to hear anything that might suggest your current situation. Then, through the interference, he caught a faint sound.

A soft noise.

Was that… No. It had to be something else. He held his breath, listening intently, hoping for clarity.

Another sound followed—a muffled sigh, perhaps, accompanied by the faint rustle of fabric. The static ebbed, and the noise came again, clearer this time.

A moan.

Dan Heng froze, his thoughts grinding to a halt as realization dawned on him. His pulse thumped in his ears as he felt heat rise to his face. The sound was unmistakable now, and the detailed image it conjured in his mind was disconcerting, to say the least.

He should hang up. He knew this. But his hand refused to move. His mind, clouded by exhaustion and an already chaotic day, wrestled with the lewd mental image of you in such an intimate moment.

For a fleeting second, Dan Heng wondered if you knew he was on the line; if this was a mistake, or if…

No.

He cut the thought short. Yet, the fragmented memories that resurfaced complicated everything further. He couldn't pinpoint where they came from—his previous life or an echo of something more distant—but they stirred emotions he wasn't ready to confront.

Dan Heng clenched his jaw, finding the resolve to move. His thumb hovered over the disconnect button. And yet, he hesitated.

Why had his memories become so realistic suddenly? Was it his proximity to the Luofu? His frustration mounted as he fought to keep his emotions in check. He'd trained himself in meditation during his time in the Shackling Prison—the only form of control he'd had in the suffocating isolation of his freezing, dimly lit cell. He'd sworn to never lose control ever again, never let his emotions cloud his judgement like they had in the past.

He should just hang up.

He should forget this ever happened and pretend he hadn't overheard you in the throes of passion. But then his phone crackled with the sound of your voice.

"Shit. Hello? Dan Heng, are you there?"

His throat tightened as he held the phone closer, his fingers curling around the device. He didn't know what to say, if he should say anything at all. His heart thudded in his chest, his mind racing with questions he wasn't sure how to answer.

Then, the call clicked, and you hung up.

He stood still, phone in hand, staring at the screen. The call had lasted five minutes—plenty of time for him to have hung up earlier. Plenty of time for you to think he'd been eavesdropping on purpose. His phone vibrated again, flashing your name. Dan Heng was reluctant to answer, but he knew he couldn't just ignore the situation.

He answered the call after the third ring.

You spoke as soon as the call connected, but he missed the beginning of what you said.

"… There all along?"

Dan Heng became distracted by the data bank powering back up. His fingers fumbled as he tried to occupy himself with something.

"You called me."

There was a brief silence on your end, followed by the sound of you moving, the thump of what he assumed was your bed.

"I did? Oh, Aeons, I did."

You sounded embarrassed, and the mumbled words that followed were too quiet for him to hear. Dan Heng tapped the edge of the terminal's screen, unsure what to say. He wasn't good at comforting people, and this situation—this strange moment—left him feeling like he was treading dangerous waters. He wanted to hang up, retreat to his thoughts, and leave the night behind, but you insisted.

"'How's your progress with the articles I sent you? If they don't suit you, I've found others that might help.'"

He realized you were reading the message he'd sent earlier.

"You don't have to—"

"It's going okay," you interrupted, your voice wavering a bit. "They were helpful. Thank you."

Silence fell between you, thick with unspoken words. He missed the faint buzz of static on your side, though he didn't acknowledge it any further.

"I need to sort through the information to pick out what's relevant. But that's not a bad thing. I've been enjoying it, even outside of research purposes."

His brows furrowed as he listened. You were rambling, attempting to smooth over the tension. Each time he opened his mouth to respond, you intervened, your nervous energy palpable even through the phone.

"Listen—"

"Oh, uh, and are you doing okay? I mean, from earlier today? You didn't come out of your room except for dinner, and even then, you didn't sit with anyone. I was worried something—"

"Listen," he said, cutting through your flurry of words. "It was an accident. We don't have to talk about it, so there's no need to act this way."

The line went quiet. You sighed, the sound crackling through the speaker and sending an odd shiver up his spine.

"Yeah. You're right. Look, I'm sorry—"

He cleared his throat, interrupting before you could go off on a tangent again.

"Oh, right. Sorry!"

He waited to see if you'd say anything else. He wanted this conversation to be over. His thoughts were already a mess, and he didn't have the energy to navigate this interaction any further.

"Well, if that's all, we can hang up now."

There was more rustling on your end, followed by your voice, softer but coherent. "Already? I mean—" you faltered, then said, "Did you want to talk for a bit?"

He frowned. Why were you so insistent on staying on the phone?

"I'd swing by the archives, but, you know."

He sighed through his nose.

"And I'm feeling kind of tired. But not tired enough to fall asleep," you said, trailing off.

He turned his attention back to the terminal, scrolling through entries and sorting them. His gaze landed on one titled Synesthesia Beacons. Skimming through the text, he searched for errors or anything to divert from his inner turmoil. Perhaps you'd drift off soon and he could end the call.

"Dan Heng?"

Your voice was thick with sleep now, gentle as you said his name. His earlier feelings—the agitation sparked by your call and the memories it had dredged up—hung around, leaving him tense. He rolled his shoulders to ease the burden, growing tired of standing in place.

"Yeah?"

"I meant what I said before. I asked Mr. Yang and Himeko, but they said you should be the one to tell it. If you choose to."

He closed his eyes, deciding he was done with the data bank for now. Dan Heng crossed the room, stepping onto the elevated panel glowing with a serene, looping scene of the ocean's waves, before sitting at the high-back chair underneath his desk. His workspace was free of clutter, except for a clipboard and pen. He recognized it as the questionnaire you'd given everyone to fill out. He'd started on it, filling out basic info, but a few of the fields asking for age and so forth had given him pause.

"It's complicated."

He stared at the massive navigation screen along the back wall, watching as the icon representing the Express grew closer to the Luofu. "But … I had a nightmare. That's all."

You hummed softly before saying, "It must've been pretty bad if it bothered even you."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

You let out a breathy laugh.

"I didn't mean it as an insult, I promise. You just reminded me of Seele. She wouldn't open up when something was bothering her, either. Not until she caught me stealing her comic books, anyway."

Your voice lowered as you stifled a yawn. "I bring all of that up to say you shouldn't keep your emotions bottled up inside. Especially when you're surrounded by people who care about you and your well-being."

Dan Heng's response was immediate. "My past is my burden and mine alone."

You sighed, resigned but not unkindly. "Alright, did you find anything new in the data bank to help me?"

That was a task he could handle. He'd been compiling his findings—passages and records featuring techniques similar to the ones you'd mentioned. All of it neatly filed into a folder with your name on it.

Opening it up, he responded, "Of course. Where would you like me to start?"

"The beginning."

So he did.

He filled the next couple of minutes with the sound of his voice, reading aloud. At some point, he forgot his aversion to phone calls, so absorbed divulging information. It wasn't until fatigue crept in that he finally glanced at the time.

12:28 AM.

How long had you two been talking?

He pulled the phone away from his ear, the screen brightening to reveal the call timer: thirty-seven minutes and counting. He replaced the phone on his ear and called out to you.

"Hello?"

At first, there was nothing, and he thought you might've fallen asleep. Then the faint crackle of the speaker carried your voice through.

"Sorry, I'm still here. I just zoned out."

Though the excuse didn't entirely convince him, he chose not to press.

"Has anyone told you your voice is soothing?"

His brows furrowed as he twirled the pen between the fingers of his free hand. "No, I can't say anyone has."

"Well, let me be the first," you said, your smile noticeable in your tone. "You've got the perfect voice for reading, like one of those audiobook narrators."

Another pause followed. This time, Dan Heng thought you might be drifting off again, but he didn't hang up. He should have, he realized that. Sleep was a necessity, especially for someone like him. But the thought of closing his eyes brought with it a panic. The nightmares would come again, as they always did, leaving him paralyzed and vulnerable. He hated that feeling—how it compared to the Shackling Prison, trapping him with his thoughts and leaving no way to fight back.

Instead, he stayed on the line, your presence a balm for his state of mind as he tried to hold on to this fragile thread of connection.

"If you don't mind, could you keep going?"

But immersing himself in engaging activities kept his thoughts at bay. Even though he was aware, you weren't paying close attention, likely lulled more by his voice than the content of his words, he continued reading. You stayed mostly quiet, occasionally murmuring to let him know you were still there. Soon after, Dan Heng grew tired of sitting in the chair. Standing with a stretch, he cradled the phone against his shoulder, picked up a tablet, and moved toward his bedroll on the floor.

He'd already changed into his nightclothes earlier in the evening, preferring the privacy of late-night showers when the rest of the crew had turned in. Settling on top of the blanket, he crossed his legs and placed the tablet in his lap.

"'Recent advancements from the teachings of Yaoshi have unveiled new methods to utilize THEIR blessing of long-life. Primarily in fields related to cellular regeneration,'" he said, fighting back a yawn.

Then, unprompted, you said, "I get nightmares too, sometimes."

Dan Heng inhaled deeply, lowering the tablet as he listened.

"I guess that makes me a bit of a hypocrite, huh? I find it hard to talk about them more than anything. So … I get what you mean."

"For the record," you continued, "this isn't some strategy to convince you to open up. You don't have to tell me anything you're uncomfortable sharing."

You shifted around, a yawn punctuating your sentence, coaxing another from him in return. Then, a small sigh. "It's just … wow, this really is hard. I should probably apologize to Seele, huh?"

"The same should apply to you. You don't have to force yourself to share anything that makes you uncomfortable."

You let out a quiet laugh. "Yeah, I guess. But where's the fun in that? If you want to get closer to someone, you've gotta be open about the good and bad, right?"

Dan Heng's fingers toyed with the hem of his T-shirt as he asked, "Like that night in the medbay?"

He half-expected you to stammer or grow flustered, the way you had before. Instead, you softly exhaled. "Right. See, this is one thing I like about you. You don't beat around the bush."

His body tensed, a strange paradox of calm and unease overtaking him. Was he imagining the way your words teased him? Testing the waters, poking at some reaction he wasn't sure how to explain?

"I see no point in riddles. It's best to be direct."

You spoke aloud your agreement.

"Which brings me to my next question: why don't you stop beating around the bush and tell me what it is you want from me?"

The atmosphere becomes heavy and charged. Dan Heng laid back on his futon, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he waited for your response. Part of him wanted to check if the call dropped, but your voice returned—playful and suggestive.

"Was I too obvious?"

He didn't respond, sensing it was your last attempt to deflect, to sidestep whatever topic you were circling.

"Fine. I was thinking … maybe we could do a little more than just talking?"

"Need I remind you that you're the one insisting we stay on the phone?"

"Yeah, but what's stopping you from hanging up?"

Dan Heng worried his bottom lip as your laughter filtered through the speaker at his lack of response. How had you two reached this point? Though his past and the Luofu no longer dominated his thoughts, others, deeper and just as invasive, took their place.

He hadn't known you for long. The time between leaving Jarilo-IV and the upcoming stop at the Luofu had been about a week, yet it seemed you were always there, carving a place in the quiet corners of his life.

This seemed common among passengers who found permanence on the Astral Express. Himeko and Welt offered him stability and purpose. March constantly pulled him out of his shell, challenging his self-imposed boundaries. The Trailblazer encouraged him to take a more active role during their journey, pushing him further into the dynamics of their little crew.

But you?

Something about you unsettled him—something different. Your approach to him was distinct from how you treated everyone else, though he couldn't decide whether this was intentional. Would you finally be forthcoming with him now?

"What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Now look who's beating around the bush."

"I'm not," he replied, though the hesitation in his voice betrayed him. "I just wanted to see if you'd say it first."

There was movement on your end, punctuated by your voice, now closer and quieter.

"Can you help me get off, Dan Heng? I can't fall back asleep."

Heat flared under his skin, searing through his veins and creeping up his neck. His thoughts shattered the mental restraints he had forged, turning against him.

The sounds of you tossing and turnings painted graphic images he couldn't suppress—your body arching against the sheets, your breath hitching as you sought release. This time, you wouldn't stifle your moans, and he'd hear every desperate, intimate sound in its entirety.

Memories surfaced involuntarily, segments of reactions he'd assumed were long buried. His fingers curled into his blanket, mimicking the way he'd once held another. Now, his mind weaved you into these memories, wondering how it would feel if it were you.

"What should I do to help?"

***

You kicked off the blankets, the stifling heat beneath the sheets making it impossible to stay still as the early morning hours dragged on. You pressed the phone firmly to your ear, giving your full attention to every sound from Dan Heng's side. Since growing closer to him, you'd longed for something deeper—something beyond the quiet conversations and shared moments. The suspense overwhelmed you, pulling taut whenever you were near him. Sometimes, you were certain he understood your feelings; other times, you suspected he was completely oblivious.

Calling him tonight had been a mistake—a clumsy slip of your finger—but it had turned into an unignorable opportunity. Dan Heng had consumed your thoughts and claimed the focus of your restless dreams on the rare nights you had sweet ones. And now, as his voice crackled faintly in your ear, you wondered just how much further this might go.

Your vibrator, once neglected, now demanded your attention as your hand found its familiar, smooth shape. Silicone warmed under your touch as you held it, your finger circling over the power button. You didn't turn it on just yet; the anticipation drawing out the burgeoning intimacy as you searched for the right words.

"Could you …" you wavered, voice breaking before you swallowed. "Tell me what you're thinking about right now?"

The line went dead until his voice came through again. It was low and smooth, laced with a breathlessness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I'm not used to saying things like this, but I … I really want to touch you."

"Yeah?"

Your hand worked its way lower. "Like where?"

The pauses between his replies stretched longer now, each one heightening the ache between your thighs. The earlier interruption to your orgasm came back with force, leaving you writhing against your sheets. When he spoke again, his words unraveled in a way that left no room for restrictions.

"Everywhere. All over your body."

Your hand slid to your thigh, squeezing the flesh as your mind painted titillating pictures of him. You'd seen the strength Dan Heng concealed behind his icy demeanor—the same strength he displayed in battle. He didn't need anyone to watch his back in the ring. Now, you imagined that power turned toward you, but not in combat. His hands grazing your skin, running along your thighs as he worked you to the edge, his movements painstaking and deliberate. The thought alone made you impatient, and you didn't wait any longer; turning on the vibrator with a faint click.

"Are you touching yourself?"

The rasp of his voice sent a jolt straight through you. The sheer audacity of his question, paired with the rawness of his tone, left you breathless.

"Yeah."

You trailed the vibrator along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasing yourself with the intense vibrations. In your mind, you pictured him laid out on his futon, staring at the ceiling, his composure coming undone. The way his chest would rise and fall, the faint pink dusting of his cheeks, the soft part of his lips as he breathed your name. He was only a few steps away. The thought of closing the distance tempted you.

"Sorry," his voice was but a growl, as if fraying at the edges. "I can't think straight—"

"I wish you were here touching me instead," you gasped when you brushed against your mons, rolling your hips at the feeling.

You circled the tip of your vibrator around yourself, keeping the touch light as you brushed above your clit. You forced yourself not to give in just yet, prolonging the sensuous torture. It became difficult for you to suppress the noises threatening to force its way past your lips.

"I … don't know what you're doing to me," Dan Heng groaned into your ear, his breathing picking up through the phone. "I keep imagining … your hands. Your body. The way you'd look."

The vibrator in your hand hummed, but his voice drowned out everything else, sending heat pooling in your stomach. You move it lower, sinking the tip into your wetness to coat it in slick before pressing it against the side of your clit. Your muscles tightened as you clenched around nothing.

"What else?"

He sucked air through his teeth. "You're asking a lot out of me."

You held your phone overhead, switching the call to speakerphone to free your other hand. Your fingers trailed along your dripping wet opening without hesitation, the anticipation making you break out in goosebumps.

"And yet … you're still here."

A disbelieving huff escaped him.

"You're insatiable."

You bit your lip, sliding your fingers inside and curling them upward. The pressure made your walls clench around them as you pressed deeper, a fine sheen of sweat breaking across your skin. Moans and uneven breaths filled your room.

"Dan Heng," you whimpered, swallowing hard against the dryness in your throat. "Please … keep talking."

The squelching of your fingers added to the intoxicating atmosphere. When he spoke again, his voice was smooth as silk, a thread of control barely masking his own unraveling.

"Your skin. I want to know if it's as soft as I imagine … to hear the sounds you'd make if I touch you."

Your breath hitched, and his next words were a direct response.

"I wonder what you'd sound like … if I were the one making you feel this way."

Your vibrator shook in your hand as you pressed it closer, intensifying with each tight circle over your swollen clit. His voice was the only tether grounding you to reality, an unfair weapon in his control. You swore he was there beside you, his breath fanning across your ear as he influenced your every movement.

"I want to hear you. Say my name."

The coil in your abdomen tightened. Your hips arched, caught in the push and pull of pleasure, as you sobbed his name. Thighs trembling and clenching around your arm, you sank your fingers as deep as they could go, your release crashing over you in a wave. A final, keening cry escaped your lips as your body melted into the bedsheets.

You basked in the afterglow, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The bliss that engulfed you like nothing you'd achieved alone before. Your heavy eyelids fluttered shut and sleep pulled you under when his voice cut through the fog.

"Are you still there?"

You hummed groggily.

"I just wanted to say … good night."

Your eyes snapped open, and you snatched your phone from the pillow beside you. You switched off speakerphone and brought it to your ear.

"Wait. Don't go."

"But you're about to fall asleep, aren't you?"

You chewed your lip. "Maybe. But … I don't want this to be a one-off thing."

The silence on his end stretched on, fear tightening in your chest. Had you misread his feelings? Before doubt consumed you, Dan Heng offered you a calm reassurance.

"I … I wasn't planning to leave things as they are. We'll talk about it later. For now, just rest," he said, the gentle sincerity in his voice easing your worries.

"I'll still be here."

xpeachy-keenx. 2024. do not repost, copy, or translate without permission.

#reader insert #reader #fem reader #female reader #honkai star rail #honkai x reader #honkai x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #dan heng x reader #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #smut #smut fic #oneshot #xpeachy-keenx writing

131 notes · View notes

planete777 · 1 year ago

Note

Forgive me if this is outside the realm of what you’re comfortable talking about BUT

Lando’s always talking about his future kids and wanting to be a dad and all of that, so one could make the assumption there’s a touch of a breeding kink there

he finally makes good on the promises he’s been making in bed for years, finally knocks you up… and suddenly your boobs are bigger and, yeah, they’re achy, but the one thing that makes them feel better is when he sucks on them

sweet boy is in his bliss

anon this is PERFECT!!!!!

ive always had an inkling that he has a bit of breeding kink, though it's not something that is present everytime you have sex. but when he sees you playing with your little nieces and nephews, he's suddenly all pent up, and it's too obvious he is. he'd try to keep you close, hinting at his horniness, but you ignore him until you get home.

the second the door closes, he's pouncing onto you, dragging the both of you to the bedroom before going batshit crazy. im talking multiple rounds, "i'm gonna make you so full of my cum, you'll be pregnant with twins", and belly bulges!! he's big enough anyways so the second he sees the bump rise and flatten near your abdomen, he's taking your hand and placing it on your stomach, saying, " you feel that? i'm gonna put a baby there."

and you love it. no doubt at all.

after months of trying, your period is missed by 2 weeks and the test comes back positive.

lando is obsessed. just knowing that you're carrying his child, looking beautiful while doing so, and he's eager to help you whenever.

and so the second your complain about your heavy, aching tits, he's gently placing you on your back and lifting your shirt. his lips are on your nipples and all you feel is sweet relief. he's a goner, eyes hooded in complete bliss and yeah, you're now lactating, but he likes milk anyways 🤷‍♀️

#⋆🪐 ⋆★ ⋆ planete.parle #anon 💓🫧#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris smut

529 notes · View notes

dewracle · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! Could I request a fic where IV is y/n’s bf, and he owes Vessel a favor. And Vessel wants nothing more than to fuck y/n while he makes IV watch. Fem AFAB y/n please 🥰

The Debt That I Owe

PAIRING - IV x Reader, Vessel x Reader, Vessel x Reader x IV

WARNING - NSFW! Threesome F/M/M, Dom/Sub, Cuckolding, Overstimulation, Creampie, Kink Negotiation, Polyamory Negotiation, Switch IV, Dom Vessel, Mentions of Cock cages, Polyvess mentioned, Cumplay

AUTHOR'S NOTE - I've honestly sat on this request for so long that it's not funny. I struggled till I got inspo from my friends <3

WORD COUNT - 5782

Master List - Ao3

Vessel crowded IV into a corner, leaning over him with his arms caging the other in. His voice was smooth with a hint of a tease at the slightly shorter man in his grasp. IV growled softly, trying but failing to push Vessel off of him, fuck he had made a mistake. “Come on, you owe me… You know what I want.”

IV knew, knew that Vessel wanted you, his girlfriend. Wanted him to step away and allow him to fuck you in front of him, to take you apart while mocking the guitarist.

He grunted softly and tilted his head up, glaring deeply into Vessel’s eyes.

“If I don’t want to? Don’t wanna ask her?” IV retorted, now turning his pushing grip into a holding one.

The singer leaned down, getting closer to IV’s ear. He hummed softly and let out a breathy chuckle, “I can take you then.”

His breathing hitched as he shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. IV knew how Vessel was, the singer wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted in different ways and knew the singer wanted all of his mates.

He sighs softly and pulls Vessel closer, turning his head to ghost the mouth of his mask over Vessel’s ear. “I’ll ask her but what more do you want…”

Vessel shocked IV by running his hand up his chest, resting it gently around the guitarist’s throat. “You will watch. Watch me break her on my cock…”

IV nodded and pulled away from Vessel, slipping out from under his arms. The talk would be difficult but he could try.

Begrudgingly the guitarist had called you that night on the tour bus. It was completely normal for the two of you to talk but with the guilt of Vessel's request, the conversation weighed heavily on IV's mind. He feared your reaction, the silence he knew he'd receive on the other end of the line.

"Baby, can I ask you a serious question?" IV prompted while fidgeting with the string of his sweatpants. The bus hummed softly in the background as they traveled to the next city. They would be staying there for a couple of days to collect themselves.

You mumble a soft yes to his question, the time difference had always been something the two of you struggled with during tour. Yet your relationship pushed on and grew even stronger.

The soft yawn from your end of the line made IV chuckle softly, he had almost forgotten the time difference of nearly 8 hours. "Would you... I don't know how to ask this, shit"

His confession made you perk up slightly your normally confident boyfriend was stumped? The sounds of sheets rustling could be heard from IV's phone. He knew you were sitting up in bed, something you often did when you were getting serious. "What is it, love? What's wrong?"

Your question hung in the air while IV eyed the direction of Vessel's bunk. He knew the singer wasn't asleep but rather taking some time for himself. This made him even more nervous to ask but there was no time for him to be alone to do this.

"Vessel- He asked me to ask you something. You can always say no if you don't feel comfortable, okay?" IV stressed the ending while letting out a sigh of nervousness.

You paused and nodded before correcting yourself, "Yeah, uh, what did he wanna ask?"

It was clear you were hesitant about whatever was being asked, this wasn't normal at all. "He wants to fuck you..."

The call was silent like IV had expected, yet he didn't try to recover the conversation. This was something he needed you to think about without his anxious rambles.

"What else?" The seriousness and firmness in your voice surprised IV.

The fourth chuckled nervously and shrunk back into his pillow, fuck he didn't expect to get this far into the talk. "Well, he wants me to watch... I think maybe play with him afterward?"

You hummed softly while thinking. It was common knowledge that your relationship with IV was his primary relationship, he was also a part of a polycule with the others. He tended to keep it mostly platonic besides the occasional kiss on stage and touch. It was rather complicated but you never pushed.

This never bothered you, in truth, you had known about the others before your relationship even began yet still he always came to you for permission. Sometimes you'd joke you were his keeper and his relationship with the others was simply a friends-with-benefits thing.

"When? Your tour doesn't end for.." You pause to look at the calendar countdown on your phone, " Almost 24 days?"

IV hummed softly and thought about their schedule, they did have 2 days before their next show. He sighed softly and pulled the phone away from his ear to look up the fastest flights to the area they were traveling to.

"We have a small break, come then." His normal confidence coming back in that moment, of course, he'd suggest soon.

You laugh softly as your phone pings in your hand, a flight plan already being sent to you. You check the city and your nose turns up slightly yet you don't complain.

"I need to get some sleep if I'm going to catch this flight in the morning then." You mumble softly, your shared apartment buzzing with your excitement.

IV nodded and allowed you to hang up before he placed his phone on his bare chest. The sigh of relief was regretful as Vessel popped his head into the curtains of his bunk.

The man's unmasked eyes stared into IV's blue-gray ones, a soft, excited smile plastered on his face. The guitarist huffed and pushed Vessel back with a palm on his face.

"So I'm getting what's owed to me?" Vessel laughed as he moved back away from the annoyed IV.

"Yes! Now lay back down, Jesus!" IV huffed and rolled to face the wall. Just great, he was going to have to watch one of his best friends fuck his girlfriend.

###

Your back hit the soft fluffy mattress with a giggle. You had decided to make the most out of the short trip and get a hotel room that you could stay in. Well, truthfully, IV had demanded you allow him to book you a room near the band. He had said that you deserve your own privacy after and there was no way you could stay with him since he was roomed with III.

It didn't bother you since the room you were given was far enough away from everyone that no one would bother you. Plus due to being the partner of one of the band members, no one would mess with you because of security.

You sigh and roll over to grab your phone to check your messages. There were a few notifications from random socials such as Instagram but the one that caught your attention was a text from Vessel. Normally the singer would go through IV to talk to you but this was a direct message.

"Settled in yet?" The question was simple yet it made you blush. Of course he wanted to know, he was the one who had helped set up your room after all.

You pondered your response before sending a simple reply. "Yeah! Thank you for helping IV!"

Awkwardness radiated from your text message, of course; you were nervous. Yes, you were "friends" with the other members of the band but not as close as many would think.

Your nerves were knocked out of you as your hotel room door opened. You tensed up but relaxed when you noticed it was just your boyfriend coming in. The grimace on his face turned into a soft smile when he noticed you were wearing one of his old band t-shirts.

IV left the door cracked without your knowledge as he slipped into the room slowly. He kneeled on the bed and ran his hands up the back of your legs to your ass. "Hi love..."

You shudder as he squeezes your ass gently, the booty shorts you had put on after your shower doing little to protect you against his hungry glaze. IV flips you over, manhandling you so your legs are spread over his thick thighs. "I've missed you."

The soft yet heated tone of his voice made you shudder, fuck you had missed his touch. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down into a gentle kiss. He returns it with love, slowly lowering his hips to rest on you.

The pressure against your core forced a gentle moan out of you against his lips. IV smiled into the kiss but gasped when your fingers trailed up into his hair, gently pulling at the thick dark locks.

The guitarist pulled away from you to prop himself on his elbows above you. The denim of his jeans rubbed roughly against the insides of your thighs. "You look so pretty like always, my sweet bunny."

You shudder and play with the hair at the nape of your boyfriend's neck. "And you look as handsome as always... Maybe even better. Tour does you good."

The two of you chuckle softly at your comment but it was true. IV had always looked so good while on tour, it took everything out of you not to fly to visit him more often.

“Well, you get me for a few days if you stay for the concert..” He mumbled softly as he leaned to place gentle kisses on your neck.

A soft sigh of relief leaves you as his kisses trail across your neck leaving thick, dark hickeys in his wake. You couldn’t help but smile lazily as you slowly ground your hips up against the other.

IV chuckles softly and pushes back, the slight bulge in his pants growing as the two of you lazily hump one another. He wanted to take his time, not knowing when he could have you again.

“Someone’s needy…” IV teased softly while one of his hands drifted under your shirt, reaching to cup your breast.

Your breathing hitches softly as his grip on your breast tightens. A soft pathetic whine releases from your mouth, and you can't help but feel needy after so long of not having your partner.

"So are you," You moan softly while pulling at IV's hair. "I can feel how hard you are against me."

The guitarist grunts as you pull his hair and shoots you a soft warning glare. You couldn't help but laugh softly as he tried to intimidate you with his pretty eyes.

An impatient look falls over his face as he sits up on his knees to carefully slip his hands under the legs of your shorts. You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to speak but are cut off by your own shocked moan.

IV's fingers brushes gently against your clit under your loose shorts. His thumb presses gently at the bud with a soothing intoxicating circle. "What's wrong, love? Gonna brat off to me again?"

You shake your head while tensing your legs to push yourself up against his thumb. Your boyfriend notices and gives you a cocky smile, he knows he has you right where he wants. Under his thumb, moaning his name so perfectly.

He applies the tiniest bit more pressure as his other hand drifts to your weeping hole. IV's rough pointer finger brushes over it, testing just how wet you were already from simple teasing.

"Fuckin drenched like a slag already aren't ya?" His accent getting thicker with arousal, Christ it was heaven on earth.

IV shifts his hands away as the ache in his cock gets to be too much. The bulge tenting his jeans so perfect for you.

Once you were able to catch your breath you whined softly at the removal of his hands. "IV- Don't tease me... Need you so fucking bad."

The fourth chuckles and coos at you softly while stripping you of your shorts and panties. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as they pull the barriers away. IV groans softly at the sight of your glistening cunt.

You attempt to squirm your hips in his direction, to get your lover to touch rather than just stare at you. Needy whimpers and mewls fall from your mouth. The old band T-shirt running up just over your chest to give IV just a glimpse of your pretty tits.

"IV I need you- Need you to take my cunt please..!" You whine loudly while reaching down to spread your pussy lips with your fingers. The sticky slick sticking to your fingers as your cunt pulses with need.

IV clenches his hands as he takes a deep breath to calm down, he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you by taking you too quickly.

But he doesn’t have the option to do anything. The door he had 'forgotten to close' all the way creaks open as heavy footsteps enter the hotel room.

Your body tenses and you quickly search for something to cover yourself with. Who the hell would just walk into your hotel room? Wasn't this floor rented out by the band and management?

"Looks like you started without me, hm? Poor things are so needy~" You knew that voice; a voice you've heard countless times.

With wide eyes, you look at IV as he leans over you in an attempt to cover you. The defeated look on his face was clear as Vessel stepped beside the bed. He wore a shit-eating grin and his beaten Alpha Wolf hoodie.

"Isn't it lovely to see you, darling." The singer coos at you gently, his smirk growing into a full-on smile when he notices your shorts tossed to the side.

IV places his forehead on your shoulder, his body fully covering yours to hide you away. The sigh from his mouth gave away how frustrated yet defeated the man truly was. "Vess, why now? Why can't I have this one thing."

You were confused as you slowly dragged a blanket over your still throbbing cunt. It was awkward trying to over yourself from your boyfriend's best friend, the same best friend who said he wanted to fuck you.

The thought of Vessel fucking you caused you to whimper softly, the idea of someone's cock plunging in and out of your sweet hole turning you on.

The two men look at you as you whimper, IV sitting up quickly while Vessel tilts his head with pride. "Oh fuck off! You can't expect me not to still be horny when I haven't been fucked in a while!"

Your confession causes the guitarist to smile and Vessel to chuckle quietly. A blush rises on your face as the singer kneels on the bed beside you, inviting himself into your space. Your breathing hitches as IV shifts the blanket away from you.

The frantic yet aroused look on your face catches Vessel's eye. "Hey, look we don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

"I know we asked but if you're second-guessing it's completely fine love." IV gently explains to you while cupping your cheek. The overwhelming amount of comfort and reassurance caused a soft plea to escape your mouth.

You shift up onto your elbows, completely ignoring the fact your cunt was now bare for Vessel to see if he chose to. "Not second guessing, just nervous you know? Gonna fuck my boyfriend's best friend."

Vessel chuckles softly and sits on the bed with his legs crossed. The grey sweatpants he's wearing do little to hide the twitch of his cock. It was clear your words had a small effect on the man.

"I don't mind, you know darling? Couldn't have let anyone else" IV spoke as he ran his rough palms up your inner thigh, squeezing hard enough for a bruise. You suck in a deep breath of air and throw your head back.

Fuck you were actually about to fuck the lead singer with your boyfriend, his guitarist, watching.

Unintentionally you spread your thighs open further across IV's lap, your body needing and craving more touch. The soft throb of your clit proved to you just how horny you were for these men. "Fuck please, Christ, I need something, anything!"

"Move." Vessel demands. His tone left no room for disobedience and IV knew this.

Your boyfriend pulls himself away from you quickly, scrambling to get off the bed out of fear of punishment. The action pulled a soft whine from you. You had said you wanted more yet he was pulling away?

Your attention was brought back to Vessel as he snapped his fingers, pointing to the nearby chair. "Sit boy." Oh. Oh you understood now.

If you were not soaking wet before, you were now. You had never seen your mostly dominant boyfriend being controlled so easily. This was what Vessel had been hiding behind those soft smiles.

"As for you pretty girl, is it okay if I touch you?" The singer asks softly. You nod your head, slightly breathless as the man crawls between your legs.

Vessel was so careful as he inspected your body, taking in all your beauty. You couldn't help but squirm at his attention, to try and cover yourself pathetically with your hands. Even though IV had always had such an intense gaze when he was touching you, this was something new.

"Fuck, Vess, she's soaked for you" IV offhandedly mentioned while scooting the chair closer.

You wanted to react, to thank your dom but Vessel was already on top of it. "And she's all mine tonight, isn't that right princess?"

The whiplash between how Vessel treated you and IV made you blush. He was being so gentle with you yet so harsh with IV. You couldn't help the soft "Yes sir" that fell from your mouth.

Vessel's lustful smirk made you whimper softly, it felt as though he was eating you alive with just his eyes. He seemed to enjoy the soft sounds you made because his large hand gently pushed yours away. He uncovered your cunt, your pussy grool dripping onto the bed underneath you.

You can hear IV take a deep breath at the sight, he seemingly eye fucking you as well. It was difficult not to shy away from both of the men's heated looks. "Are we just looking tonight...?"

You yelp softly as Vessel slaps your thigh, reprimanding you for your smart mouth. "And here I thought you'd be a sweet thing for me."

He rubs over the reddened skin to soothe the gentle pain. Vessel's hands slowly moved closer to your cunt from its place on your inner thigh. Finally, you were going to get what you craved so desperately.

"I'm sorry sir..." You smile softly and spread your legs further, "How can I make it up to you?"

The singer knew what you were hoping for, knew you were trying to egg him on to fuck you sooner. Your pretty soft eyes, those kissed red lips, you were using your beauty to get what you wanted. Yet he didn’t cave in like your dear boyfriend normally would.

“Sit back and keep looking pretty,” Your smile dropped slightly, “Gonna have IV get me nice and hard for you, yeah?”

Oh but you couldn’t help the groan that ripped from your throat, nor could IV as he shifted excitedly in his chair. You’ve never seen the two play with one another so you were excited to see how IV would handle Vessel.

Vessel lazily looked in IV’s direction, “Wet me, boy.”

You spread your legs more to prepare to move thinking IV would need space. Yet the hand on your thigh gripped tighter and Vessel shot you a look that made another wave of slick dribble from your cunt.

“Jesus fuck sir…” IV mumbles while he crawls to kneel beside you and Vessel. He leans down carefully, face flushed red when his eyes catch yours.

Vessel, getting impatient with the slow movements of your boyfriend, fisted the other’s hair. He roughly pulls him closer to his cock while staring deeply into your eyes.

“Enjoying the show, my darling?” Vessel teased before he felt IV’s soft lips wrap around his tip.

Your eyes widen as IV’s soft mewls fill the room. It was common knowledge IV knew how to suck cock yet you’d never seen it with your own eyes. The cocky man you love, your dom, your hunter was reduced to a cock hungry whore just like you.

Vessel noticed your reaction and smirked pridefully. The man was ruining everything about your expectations in the best way. His large hand squeezes your inner thigh and inches closer to your cunt.

Your breathing hitches as he traces the seam of your pussy lips. Vessel groaned from the wetness of your cunt and IV’s mouth. “Two needy subs at my disposal…”

Vessel’s fingers easily work their way down to your hole, he gathers the slick steadily dripping from you. You have to bite your lip to stop from moaning out as those skilled fingers slowly breach you.

Your legs twitch to close but you are stopped by IV’s hand on your thigh. His grip was tight as he forced you to take in Vessel’s fingers.

“Fuck! Your- oh my god, your fingers…” You squirm as Vessel crooks them upwards, curling them repeatedly.

His hips buck into IV’s mouth at your moan, the singer not being able to help himself from the pleasure. He wanted to feel your wet cunt wrapped around him soon. “My fingers? They feel that good to you?”

He teases a third finger into you as your body begins to shake. Vessel curses as IV swallows around him. Your boyfriend knew from your moans just how much you were enjoying yourself, just how wet you were. It didn’t help that the soft squishing sounds of your cunt were coupled with the gagging of his throat. Vessel almost couldn’t help himself.

He yanks IV off of his cock, groaning loudly as he curls in on himself. The singer’s cock throbbed painfully due to denying himself the satisfaction of coming.

IV lets out a soft whine as he chases after Vessel's throbbing cock. "Sweet boy, go sit back down while I take what’s owed to me."

You shiver with wide eyes at how easily Vessel was able to control IV, his lips were bruised red from the intense sucking. It made you crave kissing IV in hopes of tasting Vessel’s cock on his tongue.

You moan softly and relax into the sheets as Vessel pushes one of your thighs upward to give himself better access to your cunt.

Both of the men couldn’t help the soft groans they let out. IV’s was needy as his cock throbbed in his pants and Vessel’s was needy from the way your pussy lips gently parted for him.

“Sir- Fuck, please come on, fuck me.” You pleaded while fisting the sheets tighter.

Your pleas only make Vessel chuckle as he spits on your cunt. You jump slightly before moaning loudly as the thick saliva slides down to your open hole.

“Only because you beg so beautifully, princess.” Vessel muses as he grips his cock almost painfully tight.

He shuffles closer to your cunt before collecting his spit with his tip. The action made you shudder with a soft, breathy moan, the tip of his prick teasing at your hole so deliciously. “Your cunt is trying to suck me in already..”

You keen and push your hips down, subsequently forcing the tip of Vessel’s cock inside of you. You gasp at the penetration and your legs begin to shake from the simple pleasure. While IV’s cock was big, Vessel’s felt bigger.

It burned, the stretch forcing your walls apart further than ever before. And, oh, did it fuel Vessel’s pride as he slid further into your soaking wet pussy.

“Oh, look IV, she’s struggling to take my prick. Maybe it’s because she’s finally getting a real man’s dick in her.” Vessel chuckles sadistically before it is cut off with a grunt. His teasing had made you tighten around him almost painfully.

IV took a deep breath to calm himself, Vessel’s teasing and your soft moans edginghim on. His grip on the chair tightened as Vessel pushed deeper into you.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Vessel completely slid into you. The soft squish of your cunt caused the singer to shudder.

“Fucking hell... Her cunt is so damn good. Might have to steal you for myself, princess.” Vessel teased while thumbing at your clit to ease your discomfort.

You arched your back and squirmed from the intense fullness coupled with the pleasure. “Oh god… move.. please”

Vessel couldn’t help but smile and slowly pull out of your pussy. His cock now coated with a thin layer of your juices. “Beautiful girl, taking all of my cock like you were made for it. Made for me.”

He pushes back into you, starting a rough pace. His filthy words cloud your mind as the presence of your boyfriend floats away. It was you and the man between your legs, his cock forcing its way into you and molding you for him.

“She’s already fucked stupid IV, fucking gagging for it.” Vessel groans lowly as he shifts closer to you. He grabs your jaw and forces you to look in the direction of IV.

The fourth sat with a tight grip on the chair, cock clearly straining against his pants and leaving a small dark spot from pre. You moan at the sight, your eyes clouded over as your cunt pulses around Vessel’s throbbing prick.

“Look at him. Sitting there watching me fucking ruin you. Got that dumb dog look on his face.” Vessel whispers harshly in your ear before kissing down your neck.

You moan loudly and then cut off into a silent scream as the singer sinks his sharp teeth into you. Your hands fling to grab Vessel’s shirt to hold him closer to you. The pain was blinding as was the pleasure.

“Fuck! Please, please sir, please!” You begged and babbled. Your legs wrapped around Vessel and his hand.

He chuckled as he pulled away from the bite mark, a line of spit connecting him to you. “Please what? Tell me what you want princess..”

IV’s gruff voice shocked your system, all your training keeping you strung high for him. “She wants to cum, Vessel... Give her permission to soak you.”

It was Vessel’s turn to moan at IV’s words. He had never heard him talk so filthy about you, he fucking loved it.

“You wanna cum on my cock, yeah?” Vessel grunts while shifting his hips to target your g spot.

All of the air was knocked out of you as your body began to shake with need. “Yes sir! Please, need to cum, please!”

Your pathetic babbles grew louder as you shook your head from side to side, no amount of restraint would stop you from coming soon. Vessel could tell, could feel the way your cunt tried to push him out. He gave a feral grin before quickly sitting up to give IV a better view of his cock plunging in and out of your needy pussy.

“Cum for us.” Vessel demands with a thick groan.

And that was all the permission you needed. Your orgasm racked over your body with deep waves of pleasure. Your cunt pushing Vessel’s cock out of it to soak him in your squirt.

As you moaned and shook, Vessel’s fingers never left your clit, dragging your orgasm out for longer. Yet once it died down, he slotted his cock right back inside of you.

IV’s eyes widened as he went to stand up; he knew you were exhausted and would be needy for love afterward. “Sit down boy. She can handle it. Already begging for more.”

Vessel commanded heavily as he chased his own orgasm. And he was correct, your body screamed for more, screamed to be filled and fucked.

“Yes yes yes! Thank you soo fucking much! Thank you sir!” You scream and claw at Vessel’s sides. The overstimulation hadn’t yet kicked in and as long as he removed his thumb from your clit, you could continue.

A deep shudder that racked through Vessel’s body as he removed your legs from his waist and placed them on his shoulders. He was drunk off of your cunt and loved every single second of it. He had never had pussy this good.

“See boy, look at how she’s taking it. Sweet girl is enjoying herself. Getting that cunt fucked and used by a real cock.” Vessel moans out in pleasure, his own orgasm swirling closer to the brink.

IV whines softly and spreads his legs to hopefully relieve some of the pressure on his cock. He wanted his turn so bad but.. would he even get it?

Vessel gasps loudly as you clench down on his cock, your cunt spasming slightly as your hole is used and abused. “Fuckin! Shit can I cum in you?”

You keen and try pulling him closer to you, fisting his shirt to bring him into a deep kiss. Vessel’s moans are muffled against your lips as he tenses up. His thrusts become erratic and desperate.

Fuck it turned you on, your boyfriend’s soft whines, the cock deep inside of you, and the breathy moans against your lips.

“Cum in me sir… paint my insides white..” You whisper against Vessel’s lips while giving him one last moan of encouragement.

The singer’s hips jerk roughly and he buries himself in your warmth. His thick seed spilling into you and coating you as his. “God yes, fucking take it.. Take all of my cum beautiful..”

You let out an exhausted giggle as Vessel slowly pulls out of you. His cum slowly oozing out of you and onto the bed as Vessel sat back on his heels. IV stood behind Vessel and admired the mess that was you.

“Fuck.. she’s beautiful,” IV muttered softly while leaning his head on Vessel’s shoulder.

The singer wrapped his fingers through IV fluffy hair just enjoying his afterglow. “She is, isn’t she… Bet you want some.”

You flush even deeper from embarrassment and slowly try to close your thighs, you weren’t used to this much attention on your swollen cunt.

“Stop staring..” You whine while trying to pull a blanket over yourself. Yet your hand was stopped by IV as Vessel shifted out of the way.

The guitarist stared down at you hungrily while prying your legs back open. He rips a yelp from your tired throat as he forces his pants down to expose his red throbbing cock.

Vessel shifts behind you, gently gathering your upper half in his lap while he strokes your hair. “Think you can go again? Take him after I’ve bred you?”

Teary-eyed you look between Vessel and IV with adoration; you wanted to please but you were unsure if your body could handle anymore.

Slowly you reach down to gently take IV in your hand, his groan of frustration and the soft “Fuck” encouraged you to attempt.

“Try.. but I’m not sure if I can..” You whisper and nuzzle your cheek into Vessel’s thigh. You craved being good for the men, craved pleasuring the both of them.

“No,” IV grunts and pulls away from you. He could tell you’d reached your limit for the night. Your lover knew your body and knew you were pushing himself.

You whine loudly and try pulling IV closer by his cock. Vessel chuckles softly and runs his hand down your arm, carefully prying your fingers away from IV’s cock.

“He’ll get pleasure one way or another.. Just relax sweetheart” Vessel cooed while rubbing at your sides.

His eyes flick up to IV’s intense ones, the small stare-off causing you to squirm. With a soft huff, you drag IV’s hand down to your cunt. His eyes shoot to your face with a quick questioning look.

“Use the cum leaking out of me to get yourself off…” and oh, did Vessel like your suggestion. The soft moan and shudder from the man underneath you gave away just how much he loved the statement.

Your lover groans loudly and scoops Vessel’s leaking cum out of your cunt. Almost begrudgingly he wraps his hand around his prick, smearing it up and down.

Both yours and Vessel’s eyes follow intensely as IV focuses on his tip, twisting his palm around the head before dropping down around his shaft. His groans were deep and desperate, clearly needing more than just what he was getting.

“The pup can’t cum by himself anymore? That pretty cock struggling?” Vessel teases and reaches to drag him forward.

You were caught in the middle of the men leaning over you to kiss sloppily. Your clit twitched with interest but nothing more. Never had you thought that watching your boyfriend make out with his best friend would arouse you so.

“Don’t disappoint our girl, add your cum to her wet cunt.” Vessel whispers against IV’s lips.

The fourth sped up his hand, stroking his cock roughly, just trying to reach the end. You hum softly and reach for his balls, gently taking them in your hand and rolling them.

The combination of your hands on his balls and Vessel’s hand slowly wrapping around his throat causes IV to gasp and whine. His hips stutter into your grip as he coats his hand and your cunt with his cum.

You giggle softly as IV and Vessel pull away from their kiss, both relaxing and breathing deeply.

“Ah~ fucking hell, that was better than I expected..” IV laughs and runs his clean hand through his hair.

You hum in agreement as Vessel shifts to dig through his pocket. “Yeah, didn’t think your girl would have such a beautiful O face.”

You blush brightly and sit up to prepare to clean up. The sound of metal caught your attention as Vessel pulled out a metal cock cage out of his pocket. Your eyes go wide as you tilt your head, “Vess..”

IV curses and tries to get off the bed but Vessel quickly snatches him by the shirt collar. “She gets a key and I get a key… 24 hours... And if she wants to cum it’s your mouth or my cock..”

A small key was pressed into your hand as you laid to the side, a wave of excitement rushed through you. Maybe you should join them on tour more often.

#sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #sleep token vessel #imagine #headcanon #sleep token band #sleep token headcanons #sleep token vessel x reader #sleep token iv x reader #sleep token vessel x iv #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #request

175 notes · View notes

hearts-4-vicky · 10 months ago

Note

Can you write Sub!Liz x Dom!Gp!Reader,with overstimulation,praising and facesitting.If you're comfortable with it,if you're not you can delete it.Thank you 💌🫂

OMG ANONIE IVE BEEN THINKIGN ABT LIZ A LOTTTT LATELY here u go my luv

warnings: subby baby liz, g!p reader, dom reader, overstimulation, praise, face sitting, petnames, unnie kink, a lot of eye contact (i think its hot), marking, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), i thibk thats it

not proofread sorry baby💔

Liz had never been straight forward with with what she wanted. always dropping hints, lots of hints. it was exactly why you were surprised when she hovered over your face, with no bra or panties pleading to you. “Make love to me, please” the sultry look in her eyes awakened something inside of you. both of you lock eyes as you grab her soft thighs to guide her to press her puffy pussy to your awaiting mouth. you hold the eye contact as you give her cunt kitty licks, making her close her eyes and arch her back, swirling your tongue in her warm cunt.

her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth, muffling her pretty moans and whimpers you loved so much. pausing the movement of your tongue caught her attention, looking down at your slick stained face. her head tilt to the side, signaling her confusion “Princess, I need to hear your voice… please” your voice slightly muffled by her cunt on your lips before going back to lapping up her juices as if it was your last meal. her soft thighs suffocating you in a tight embrace, her puffy cunt drenching you in her juices. everything about her was addicting, and all of it was yours. Liz started mindlessly grinding against your face, feeling her clit hit your nose which earned a loud squeal from the girl. “mmgh- ha… unnie!- p-please…” she tugged your hair to make you capture her clit in your hot mouth, lightly grazing your teeth against the bud. the action has her reeling, moaning loudly as if to let the neighbors know whos making her feel good before throwing her head back and squirting all over you. liz’s moans were a beautiful symphony to your ears as she rides her high. you swallowed all that she gave you, moaning at the taste, cleaning up her leaking cunt with urgency. as jiwon slowly stopped grinding shamelessly against your face, you kept the same pace, overstimulating the poor girl. the whining girl tried to push your head away from her overwhelmed pussy, with no success shes once again moaning out your name. your skillful tongue brings jiwon to her second orgasm of the night, harsher than the first. “s’too much unnie… ha.. ghk! s’too much!” you stopped your actions, not wanting to overwhelm the poor girl anymore. it took her a bit to come back to her senses, she looked down to meet your eyes while breathing heavily. you gave jiwon a look to signal her to move off your face, which she did. sitting up on your bed, you brought her into your embrace, soothing the tired girl. “did so well baby, unnie’s so proud of you..” she kept her face buried in your neck, panting against it. you sat liz on your clothed crotch, letting her feel how hot she makes you.

“Got one more in you, babydoll? for me?” you whispered in her ear, before switching positions so you were pinning her to the bed. she blinks slowly at your words before nodding in response. you gather some of jiwon’s juices in one hand, the other busy pulling off your boxers. you spread her slick on your throbbing cock, pressing your tip against her pretty cunt then slowly pushing into it. she clenched around you, throwing her head back.

liz whined as tears kept spilling from her eyes til they were kissed away by you, made her feel so loved🥺 (i really love liz guys shes so cute) tracing shapes on her plush thigh to distract her, “fuck… taking me so good baby, just like that.." her grip around your neck tighten by the second. all of your cock was inside of her now, breathing heavily in response the foreign feeling of it. slow, deep thrusts had both of you panting, liz was barely able to form words “u-unnie..” you marked her neck as you toyed her hard nipples, groping her soft tits “let unnie fuck.. take care of you sweet girl..” you mumbled in her neck between kisses. her high pitch whines get you to speed up until you’re pounding into her overstimulated cunt. liz throws her head back onto the pillow but you hold her chin to hold eye contact with her as your harsh thrusts create slapping sounds echo in the quiet room. “cmon babygirl-mmgh.. shit.. so pretty for me baby, give unnie one more..” a few more thrusts and shes squirting all over your lower half, drenching herself and you in her juices. her squeals drown out your moans as you fill her up, thrusting faster into her puffy cunt to fuck your load into her. your grip on her waist tightens as you slow down, before coming to a complete stop. heavy breaths fill the room as you look at each other. “thank you pretty girl.. fuck, i adore you” you say softly as you slowly pull out, your cum leaking out of her pussy onto the sheets.

“Lets get you cleaned up yeah?” scooping her in your arms as if she was light as a feather made her mind fuzzy, hiding her red flushed face in your neck.

“mhm..”

holy shit i missed writing for you guys.. hi my loves❤️ theres now over 330 of you guys damn😭 sorry for my absence i got super busy last week :((( ill make it up to you guys i promise <3

Stay safe n i love you lots!

- Vicky 💋

#anon ask #vicky’s asks #wlw #ive smut #kim jiwon x reader #liz smut #liz x reader #liz ive

244 notes · View notes

mirkhammett · 5 months ago

Note

anything having to do with dave mustaine + breeding kink.. we are incredibly delulu tonight, yes indeed 🗣📣❗❗

oh yes u r so right. and oh yes we are!!

kiss of life

summary: a quiet night on dave’s tour leads to a late night confession of his, which leads to something more.

warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this), breeding kink, one mention of drug misuse, consent is not verbally said, sleepy sex, dominant dave, he’s so cute kill me, all that jazz, dirtiest thing ive wrote yet also the shortest

w/c: 2.2k

sorry this is shorter than usual, i couldn’t think of a good plot idea for this, so it’s very basic lol ^.^ not proofread so correct me on mistakes!!

the almost minuscule tv on the beside table hummed muffled sounds in confluence, a showing of an old 60s movie, (which seemed so ancient now), radiating the bedroom with hues of grey, and even darker greys. you couldn’t say it was the best hotel room you had stayed in, but it wasn’t even close in being the worse. it was comfortable, and that was enough for a night, or a few.

you lay on your side, facing the diminutive television, though only really paying attention when the room would light up white, your hands clasped together under the not so unusually thick, hotel pillow. so much for comfort, when you could deem the single pillow practically thicker than the mattress.

dave was propped up beside you, his large hand calloused with litters of guitar scars from playing too harshly, (which you had berated him for many times), draped over your waist. his other hand was holding him up so he could see over your body, eyes glazing over the tv lazily. his shirtless body was pressed against your own, the only thing separating the embrace of pure skin on skin being the lacy silk night dress you were sporting, the colour a captivating mix, or so dave thought, between cream and an off white.

“are you even watching this?” he muttered, a mix between a question and a statement, the hint of a smile slipping through his words. he suddenly let himself flop down into the mattress, the bed rumbling sideways with a soft thud.

“no,” you murmured, turning to face him. “are you?” you questioned, already knowing the answer from his body language. he was laying on his back, facing the yellowed popcorn ceiling, that had a multitude of darker splurges, probably from a leak that was never fixed.

he shook his head, turning on his side to face you, the remnants of a grin visible through his features, his eyes a slight crease. he lifted his arms, wiggling those calloused fingers as a signal for your comforting touch.

“how was the show?” you whispered, rolling into his arms, your face fitting perfectly between the crook of his neck, his head resting just above yours. he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his left hand working through your hair, detangling strands that were slightly caught up from your movement in the bed. you hummed.

“good,” he replied, his usually gruff spoken voice soft with eloquence. the show was good, and you knew it. the way the band performed was just so perfect everytime, well, at least all the shows you had been there for since joining him on tour- what your question really meant, was how he had found the show. he never really said much about it, but his dedication to his fans through every show was so clear. you knew what he really wanted to say, though the words never came to life. good, to him meant great.

it was rare for a night to end this way for him. usually, the band would go out to celebrate and blow some steam, (by snorting up god knows what), only stumbling back to the hotel at some stupid hour late into the next day, to repeat it all again the same night. but tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

you curled into his touch, slipping your arm through the tiny gap between your body and his to rest on his bare chest, a leg hooked over his hip. this seemed to awaken something inside of him, a fire of some sort, as he suddenly came to his senses, becoming more awake. he moved his hand from your now deranged hair to massage your thigh, pulling you further into his embrace.

he shuffled into a position where he was able to sit up and look at you, all while still keeping you connected. to him with an invisible string. the change of position allowed you to completely straddle him, your silky night dress now hooking up by your hips. you played your head down on his chest, your ear against his skin catching the sounds of his comforting heart beat.

“you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” he spoke, almost grunted, his voice now sounding much more restrained than it previously was. he brought his hand to scratch gently under your chin, an amiable purr escaping through your plumped lips.

“yes.” you murmured into his chest, your breath a hot contrast to the slight chill of the room. he used the same hand to pull your face up, sculpting you in a particular position to be facing him, his thumb brushing up and down, up and down gently, like a broken record on repeat.

“good,” his subtle grin showed excitement, but his eyes deceived him, his excitement clear- and then it all clicked. “because i’ve been thinking about this all day, baby,” the state you were once in- your eyes, that were oh so ready to flutter closed for once and for all until the morning sun arose, now felt incredibly awake, entranced, even- that state had dissipated. “can you be that good girl for just a bit longer? then i’ll let you rest.”

you nodded, and there was no time for either of you to waste, no time for you to even think before your night dress was slipping off your shoulders, the cream silk having an easy escape. you smoothly pulled your arms out of the thin sleeves, easily but with little agility, your exhaustion catching up to your, your panties wetted.

one of his hands cradled your chest, groping your breast and rubbing his pointer finger against your blushed nipple, squeezing it between his thumb, soft whimpers escaping you. his other hand found its place against your bare back, holding you up and steady on his lap, but not for long. he ravenously manoeuvred both of your bodies, so that you were lying, back pressed firmly against the mattress, pulling your sleepwear down your legs and flinging it off to the side, landing on the floor with a gentle thump.

and then he was ontop of you again, your hands suddenly feeling frail and useless as he placed his weight just above yours, his body height emitting like blazing yours, your fingers stretching against his sides. you hadn’t even realised he had already shed himself of his boxers.

he slouched his head down so was face to face with your breasts, licking his lips to gather up wetness, before harshly sucking on your left breast, leaving trails of spit in his wake, a sloppy, messy kiss. “can’t wait until one day, when these are so full and plump,” his voice had grown in an octave since you had last heard it, his words muffled, his breath heavy on your bare chest. you sucked in a tight gust of air. “the mother of my children.”

his words caused an instant change in your body, your arousal wetting your thighs and your cheeks turning a sweet red, cascading down your neck and into your nimble fingertips. he released his grip in your boob with his mouth, quickly moving down your body, his hands trailing down, his fingers giving your right nipple an endearing squeeze.

he spread your thighs with his weaker hand, his stronger one inspecting your gushing pussy, a tender finger spreading it apart, a thumb pressing down onto your clit. you released an enthralling whimper, and a grin graced his pretty face, his ginger locks falling onto his features like a sculpture. “already so wet f’me,” he noted, the movements of his thumb causing a full body jerk out of you. “does the idea of having my children get you off?”

you nodded frantically like a maniac, his words combined with his teasing tone making everything feel just a bit more fuzzy than it already was, your eyes threatening to flutter shut. but he wouldn’t let that happen, not yet anyway.

in seconds he pulled himself back up, his arms caging you in, his dick hitting your lower stomach. he lifted his right hand, spitting on it, (which somehow made you much more wetter, if that was even possible), bringing it down to pump his dick a few times, holding it against your pussy lips.

“look at me,” he spoke, stern and dominating. and so you did, bringing your eyes to his, his brown orbs filled with hunger and love, his adoration for you never fading. “are you ready, baby?” his features held concern for your sleepy state, fighting off the feeling of his pulsing dick for just a few seconds to check your head, clear your mind. you nodded. “i need to hear you say it.” his brows furrowed.

“yes, yes, please.” you begged, wrapping your soft arms around his neck, pulling him down, closer to your frame- and that was all the conformation he needed. seconds had never felt longer than they did now, the quick slip of time before he pushed in agonising for the both of you.

and with a mutual moan, he was in, slotted perfectly into you like he was your missing piece, your puzzle finally completed. he didn’t waste any more time before he started to thrust, slow at thrust, getting deeper as he took his time with you. by the 4th thrust of the in and out motion he had acquired, he was fully in, filling you to the brim, his balls flush against the smooth slope of your ass, your whimpers starting to fill the along, along with the stench of sex that was starting to quickly take over your senses.

“i wanna pump you up, all nice and full,” his words could hardly catch up with the speed of his thrusts, your whole body jerking at bouncing to the rhythm, everything about him sending you into a cacophony of melodic infatuation, words beyond comprehension, a sonnet of love. “you want that too, baby?”

and when you thought he possibly couldn’t get any deeper, he made it happen, his dick practically impaling you.

“m’ gonna breed you, make you my wife,” it was like he wasn’t even thinking before speaking, all these words falling out and escaping his lips, all the truth. like a fantasy he had dreamed for, for months beforehand, all these confessions piling up and making it hard for you to do anything but whimper, but moan and beg for more, to please him, because god knows that’s there’s nothing you would want more to be his wife, and eventually one day mother his children. “you’ll look so pretty, full with my babies.”

his thrusts became more erratic by the minute, and you could sense him nearing his release, his words spurring the both of you along to that sublime heaven, that gushy feeling in your stomach beginning to bubble up, fizzing as it nears its burst- and dave knew this too.

“you want me to come inside you, fill you up until you’re leaking?” his balls slapping against your ass made you just want to close your eyes and succumb to the bliss, though his harsh movements weren’t making it very easy. “my dirty girl, aren’t you?”

“uh-huh, mhmm,” you moaned, profanities spilling from your lips on repeat, unable to stop yourself, or the squeaks and whimpers that he found oh so delightful.

somehow he was able to grin through the immense pleasure, his lips curling at the sides, his face wrinkled with his eyes half shut, beads of sweat dripping down his face, rolling down his arm due to his languid efforts to please, his arm propping himself up growing shakier as he neared release.

“my sweet girl wants me to come inside her, all nice and deep,” he grunted out, breathing heavily as his thrusts became sloppier, your thighs sticky and wet with the combination of your juices, and his sweat, a thin layer adorning his whole body, his chest olied and faint abs clear as day. “i’m gonna give you what you want.” his thrusts became ever faster, his hips moving at incredible speeds as he spurted his cum out inside your gushy walls, a guttural groan escaping him.

his orgasm had him pulling you down with him, your own making you see stars, crashing down on you like a malicious wave, your vision going white as you held your eyes tightly shut. he rode you down out of your orgasm, his thrusts becoming slower and more controlled, his breathing shaky and unsteady, your own chest rising and falling uncontrollably, completely spent. he realised this when he finally pulled out, the look on your face telling him all that he needed to know, your shut eyes then proving it.

his expression was filled with love as he admired you, bringing a shaky hand to brush your hair out of your face and tuck it behind your eyes, smiling down at your exhausted form. “always so good for me. i know i was rough tonight, honey, but you did so well,” he begrudgingly lifted himself from your body, admiring your features as he kneeled beside the bed, stroking along your arm as gentle as he possibly could muster up. you had made him soft. “i’ll get you all cleaned up, you just rest now.”

he leaned over, placing a soft, wet kiss to your forehead, before standing up. he hesitated for a few moments, until he knew you were okay, and only then going to the bathroom to retrieve clean up supplies, wiping you down with a lukewarm wet paper towel. “goodnight, baby.”

146 notes · View notes

silkval · 1 year ago

Note

trans aether... with questions I, IV, VIII, X, and XII. please be gentle, i adore soft sex

♠】 find out what goes on behind the scenes with the darling of your choice!

send an ask with the name of your darling and the question numbers you would like answered, and you will get your request!☆

》 content desc/warnings

aether is hinted to be smaller than reader, nipple play (aether receiving), very very fluffy sex and so so many kisses, reader can be interpreted with any genitalia, aether cries the first time, use of the nickname ‘sweetheart’, reader is an absolute gentleman, aether is a pretty boy canon

★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★

Ⅰ 》 what act of affection do they perform the most?

aether just loves it when he gets to cling to your side- whether it is simply just letting his fingers entwine with yours as you two rested in bed, or snuggling into your side on a cold winters day- which would always be made better when you looped an arm around his narrow shoulders with a content hum. your presence just made him feel safe- completely and utterly at peace with your warm frame to sidle up to.

Ⅳ 》 what is the one kink they have they will never admit they have?

…well, the poor thing didn't exactly do a good job of hiding it- but, nipple play. my god, it was so, so obvious that it was just adorable when your deft fingers grazed over aethers flushed chest whilst tangled in your sheets, drawing out the prettiest, high whine from the smaller male beneath you that you just could not ignore- eliciting a quiet chuckle in adoration at the sight of his flustered face, yet only pressing a reassuring kiss against the tip of his nose as your hand smoothed over the soft plains of his chest, the pads of your fingers rubbing and pinching gently at the pinked skin- which soon became a common occurrence each time you two made love.

Ⅷ 》 what is aftercare with them like?

honestly, aftercare with aether is just the best. even if it was a quick round before bed, or when hours had passed by from how much you just got lost in each other- aftercare with aether would last days. it would start with just holding each other- sweaty bodies collapsed and panting, still entwined and breathless yet unable to muffle the quiet, lovestruck laugh reverberating from both of you as you met eyes, still hazy as you met with soft kisses just to calm down and eventually falling asleep, his smaller body splayed atop yours or curled snug into your side as your arms encircled his bare figure still draped in the slightly damp, silken sheets. with the following morning, you would aid him in getting up- greeting him with a quick peck to the forehead, fetching him a glass of water and something small to eat before making sure he was alright and already going to run a bath for both of you to clean up in. and oh, aether just adored how you handled aftercare- ever the gentleman, as the days that followed consisted in touches even more gentle than usual and the occasional “you alright, love?” just to make sure he was all happy and healthy- which he always was, with you.

Ⅹ 》 were they a virgin before they met you

surprisingly, yes. with such a pretty face and the absolute joy of a soul that he is, he certainly got a lot of attention- that's for sure, but he never… clicked with anyone- until you, of course. he always had this subtle urge, this hidden desire for the act of lovemaking- even thinking about how intimate it would be, how wonderful it would be to come together with absolute trust and enjoyment of each others bodies just makes him all heart-eyed and blushy- oh, and he absolutely let a few tears slip when you first had sex; he had never felt anything like it before, just pure, pure absolution with you- and he couldn't want anything more.

Ⅻ 》 what pet names do they enjoy hearing?

loves loves loves being called sweetheart- absolutely drives the poor boy mad with how flustered and smiley he gets. even if it's just a mere “c’mere, sweetheart,” as you're guiding him through a busy street with a hand on the small of his back, or a breathy utterance of praise against the shell of his ear as your bodies combined in utter bliss- you damn bet you'll see his pretty, pinked lips curve upward into his signature smile.

ahh thank you sm for this ask!!! this was an absolute pleasure to write as its my first writing of aether and my god. i get the hype💙

#【writings #sub genshin #sub character #genshin x reader #dom reader #sub genshin impact #genshin aether #aether x reader #sub aether #genshin smut #genshin impact #aether smut

340 notes · View notes

savnofilter · 1 year ago

Text

On to Better Things | k. bakugo

Pro Hero!DILF!Katsuki Bakugo x [FEM] Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, angst, strangers to lovers.

sfw — toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.

nsfw — sexual content, pro hero!bakugo sorry not sorry lmao, bakugo got rizz, fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.

COUNT: 11.4k words (45 mins.)

READ MORE: masterlist + [students | bakugo]

A/N: whooph the warnings… imo, it's nothing too serious, but yk i gotta put the warnings up!! it's not graphic, but it does talk ab the stuff listed. i didnt know how else to craft a toxic ex-baby daddy type of situation, and it divulged into this 😭 also use yalls brains with the sfw & nsfw discernment for the warnings… ofc i do not take lightly about what's written, so dont twist it any other way and the heavier subjects being under sfw. i digress!! ive been wanting to write this request for a while and finally got around to it. unfortunately, i alr want to rewrite. :') despite that, i actually kinda really liked this one so i hope yall fw it too. 🫶🏽 thank you, anon!

"Mommy!" Your daughter, Niyuki, calls out to you as she runs into your arms.

She had recently turned 6 years old and still loves the end of the day on Fridays where she could run into your arms, and recount everything about what she had learned that week. Niyuki is pretty much a chatterbox and you weren't too sure where she got it from considering that even your… ex wasn't quite the talkative one either. As you grew to love this quality about her, you found it endearing. Phone calls with her were always a delight and that was how she had persuaded (begged) you to let her go to the park despite having other plans for the day.

You had promised on Monday that she would be able to go to the park in addition to ending her day Friday night off with having a sleepover with her best friend. Niyuki, being an excitable kid, wanted to go straight from school to the park so she wouldn't waste any more time than she already had.

"Hi, Niyuki!" You beam back, a loving smile on your face as you pepper her face in kisses, and hold her cheeks as she tries to shy away with her boundless amounts of giggles. "How was your da-"

"Great -- Mommy you promised we could go to the park today!" Niyuki lightly pushes away from you, a slight whine to her voice as she attempts to get away from your onslaught of affection.

"We can still go, I can't greet my little angel first before I do that?" You poke her cheek as you stand up straight and hold your hand out for her to hold. "Tell me about your day, pumpkin."

There was a skip in her step as she recounted her day to you. When Niyuki gets started, she never stops. She talked about the first moment her feet reached the school grounds, to before school had started, then she talked about her first few classes, after that what she did during lunch and how much fun she had at recess, the "drama" (very unserious but nevertheless cute) that happened before classes resumed and so on. Niyuki is also the animated type and could often run out of breath when she talks. She would use her hands and voice inflictions just to convey what she was speaking about. Sometimes, you even had to remind her to slow down and that time was going nowhere when talking with you.

It was moments like this when you could take in the rambunctiousness and appreciate your lovable daughter. You two only seemed to have special moments like these—well, at least you thought they were special—because of the separation between you and your toxic ex.

Before you two had split your relationship had been decent. Despite that though, you were incredibly in love with him, but the same wasn't reciprocated in a way that emotionally gave back. He'd make excuses as to why he wasn't open to you, his reasoning that he "loved differently" and that if you really loved him you would believe him. So you did. Over, and over, and over again. Hoping that the days where he showed up like in the beginning would become more frequent, but your willingness to stay was how he knew he could toy with you.

He had been your first when you had finally agreed to be an item when you were in your early twenties and it took a long time to finally separate from him when things got bad. In addition to dealing with the conflicting feelings of your then-boyfriend, your friends who only wanted the best for you, and your close family members, you also had to deal with yourself. Nights and days spent venting and breaking down about the man had become so common that your friends' concerns grew. You had so many negative thoughts at that time and you were naive to truly believe that there was a happy ending to overcome this predicament. That his way of loving could change for both of you. His manipulative questions would often linger in your head if you left him, and who were you to argue? When arguments would start to come up again almost weekly, it always ended up with you an emotional mess while he "proved" to you that he was the only one who could handle you.

When your ex noticed you started to pull away, he suddenly had an interest in starting a family. Late nights where you two would lay in bed after making up, he'd share his daydreams about you mothering his children, how beautiful and perfect you'd be to fit in his little world.

Family this, family that. Family values, family roles, family life. You two had been friends since you both were in high school, and it only made sense that you two were dating now and getting married soon. Hell, he even made you question what would your family think if you were "running around" instead of being faithful to him. Imagine the embarrassment to your family if you threw all of that away and weren't able to find someone else like him?

People talk, people notice. Many of the older women noted how great you two looked together, and he was well off with a great future that could support you both. Neither did it help that you changed your once passionate future for being a pro-hero to a different career that was deemed less reliable than your previous choice. It was in your best interest that you stayed with him to avoid the awful gossip in town.

When you haven't been in a situation like yours with an inconsiderate lover, it's hard to understand why you stayed as long as you did. Consequently from being his friend for so long and dating him for years meant he knew the sort of things to target your psyche. To reinforce the pressures you had of making your family look good, mixed with the hidden fears of the burden of following the footsteps of your successful siblings as well.

It was a lot to take in and it wasn't long before you gave in. You just wanted him to be who he was again. The stress only grew older with you and the more time that passed had a looming connotation that the older you got the more undesirable and unfit you are to find another relationship. Even past that, you gave so many years to him. You were a virgin when you two had met, and he had already been around. He knew how to kiss you right, he memorized your soft spots and remembered the best ways to make you come undone. He'd expertly sweet talk you after each session, and on days when you were feeling down he would be the first person to show up, usually bearing gifts of some sort coupled with affection. You couldn't understand what had changed. Why did he decide to start treating you like this? You were vulnerable and scared, and nothing like the familiar could ease the fabricated feeling of comfort.

You thought that having his child would finally fix things but you were so wrong. So very, very wrong. After your first semester in the pregnancy, you had heard talk about people seeing your supposed boyfriend—the father of the child you were soon to birth—with other women. Of course, you didn't believe it, and you refused to listen when your friends tried to tell you. In this stage, you were mostly shut in, as this was taught to be the best preparation for giving birth. You couldn't fathom the fact he would stoop so low. He had his low moments, but not like this. He would never.

He had disconnected you from everyone who had truly cared for you and even convinced your family that you were safe and protected with him. It wasn't until one evening when he had the gall to meet one of his mistresses outside of your house is when you realized it was all true, but it was all too late.

You were an emotional wreck for days. You had hit your lowest and it didn't help that your delivery date was getting closer every day that passed. You'd weep to yourself when you were sure he wasn't around and soon enough the house that you had (forced) yourself to love had once again become a prison. A night when you were tired of the pain is when you decided to reach out to your friends and family again. It was a shameless plea for help and you didn't care how desperate you looked and you wanted out. At first, your parents weren't supportive of the fact that you wanted to leave the man but you didn't care. You wanted to leave everything behind and not give this horrible chapter in your life a look back ever again. With enough talking and white lies, you were able to make a workaround to at least get back up on your feet after your delivery.

The delivery of your daughter, Niyuki, was thankfully a smooth one. Not at all enjoyable but very few complications came along the way when the time came. You had made a deal with your parents that you would stay with them so you could comfortably recover from the delivery whilst being able to safely be under their vision when your ex and his in-laws would come over. Your friends started to visit when you were healing more and had even convinced you to go out with them which you hadn't done for over a year. You were utterly scared as you had missed such a large chunk of socialization that even you didn't think you could do it. But once the night started, you didn't want to go back.

One night out became two, then three, four, five, and so on. The time you were home lessened and it didn't help that your friends were more than willing to let you take refuge at their homes. It wasn't like you were going crazy but the high that you got from drinking and even sometimes having flings became addicting and it felt satisfactory in the way you felt autonomy over your body once again.

You'd ignore the calls from your parents and family including your in-laws, especially any communication from your ex. You had ghosted the situation. The most emotionally taxing period of your life was now being forcefully ignored. You'd spend your time if not partying, then out clubbing. Even when you weren't out on benders, you'd stay up all night and indulge in the fact you were being taken care of by friends. And while you deeply appreciated their hospitality, it was also a double-edged sword. You had dropped out of college, you were no longer reliable and the flings and high feelings were no longer distracting you from the fact that you had some serious issues to deal with.

It got to a point where you'd lay in whoever's spare room and drown in thoughts about the situation you were in. A year before then, you had been stuck with your ex, and somehow a year and a half later you had no idea what that situation was like in that home.

Anxiety and suffocating emotions would swallow you often as the memories of your toxic and abusive ex would soon follow the baby girl you had given birth to. Niyuki. You'd remember her smile, the way she giggled, and how active she was. Although you had only spent about a few months or so with her, you'd remember her bright smile. You'd remember the way her eyes shone when she looked at new things or heard new words—how her face always lit up when she heard your voice, felt your presence, or saw your face. The emptiness without her would eat at you and it was time to forcefully welcome a new cycle of you falling into a depression once again.

At this point, you had lost your job, didn't have any urge to pick up any new hobbies or skills and you'd lay in bed all day. Going out until early mornings trying to ignore the fact that you weren't happy in your current state no longer worked anymore. It was a draining process to get back up but you were willing to give your life a go again. You started looking for jobs that hopefully had good pay and were willing to hire someone with this big of a time gap in their resume. While still couch hopping, you still had places to stay so fortunately you didn't need to worry about that.

When you eventually came around to wanting to be in Niyuki's life again, it was too late. Of course, when you had finally decided to start to better yourself and the suffocating feeling of postpartum had slowly dwindled over time, he was there to make sure that you couldn't take control back of your life. Your ex had found out why you had been gone for so long and eventually had things filed so that he would have sole custody. It seemed as though no matter what you did, he was always ten steps ahead of you. And this time you knew that your support from your family was even less than before.

He had swindled the courts and your families to the point that he painted you as a deadbeat and to the courts, it didn't seem as though there was any evidence to contradict that. Eventually, as you went through counseling and legal support were you able to at least gain visitation, an absence of early childhood not being any signs or indicators that you were unfit to see your own daughter.

It was humiliating settling back into your life and getting back up on your feet. Your parents demanded that you would stay with them as a reassurance that you were serious about getting your shit together and you didn't want to argue. Although with their calloused nature sometimes, they did take care of you well. You couldn't tell what they were thinking but they treated you as gently as they could. Even your family members would come and help out from time to time and it made your recovery better. As stated by the courts, as long as the grandparents (either your parents or in-laws) were there to supervise, a social worker, or the dreaded last option, your ex, was there you would be able to spend time with your daughter.

Months would pass and soon years would follow. When you had shown no signs of negligence or malice occurring in your visits, the judge allowed that you didn't need supervision. Your ex protested but it went unheard. Plus your willingness to get your life together showed your dedication so it was a blessing that you were able to get back to a somewhat decent and regular life despite what has happened. Of course the label that had been placed on you wasn't fully gone, but you were at least able to see your own daughter again.

Which is why you deeply cherish moments like this. After inspections at your apartment, the courts approved that your daughter has now been allowed to stay a few days at your place, and this weekend she was scheduled to stay with you. She would get dropped off by him on Thursdays after school, but you limited the talk to only what was important. Usually, on the first day you get her for the week, you do something with her that she's been wanting to do. As much as you wanted to do it right away, you did make sure her homework was done (she would do it at school just so she could spend more time with you though). Despite her determination, you would still check her work and teach her the things she got wrong much to her dismay. You'd make sure you're on time to drop her off to her evening classes and still wake up early to cook her breakfast every Friday morning. Then you'd drop her off and then pick her up at the end of the day seeing as she had no evening classes on weekends.

"We're here, we're here!" Niyuki cheered, the sweet but mischievous smile never leaving her face when around you.

"It's so pretty out! Wanna get some ice cream, Niyuki?"

"Yes, please!"

After you park your car you hop out and help her out of her seat, holding out your hand for her to take as she knows the routine already. Niyuki admires the familiar park although she has been to numerous times. The way she gazes at everything looks as though this is her first time seeing the place, and this kind of wonder behind her eyes isn't unique to this particular place. No matter how many times she has been somewhere or seen something, her eyes always shine with curiosity and wonder. You can't help but watch her with a faint smile, never wanting to forget what her face looks like ever again.

"Which ice cream do you want, Niyuki?" You ask once you two reach the truck, an assortment of colorful ice cream pictures is decorated on the side of the vehicle.

"Hmm…." Niyuki thoughtfully hums. She raises her free hand to comically tap on her chin as she thinks, the gesture urging a laugh from both you and the ice cream salesman. "Can I have the one with the," She leans closer and points to it, "SpongeBob with the bubblegum, please!"

You think to yourself as you settle for something that's to your tastes, relaying your order to him and searching for your wallet to pay for the cold, sweet treats.

You look over at the man and he nods before leaving to the back, "Coming right up."

In no time at all you two are grabbing ice cream and heading to the playscape. Today was a bit hotter than what you were both expecting so you made a challenge that whoever was able to eat their ice cream without being messy gets to go to bed late tonight. You knew you'd win but it was still amusing to challenge her as her bright spirit came along with a competitive one.

In the midst of you two finishing up your ice cream, a younger but familiar voice calls out to your daughter. You look around confused before spotting a younger girl running towards Niyuki and then engulfing her in a bear hug.

"Mizuki!" Your daughter squeals as they both tightly embrace, her popsicle long forgotten now.

"I didn't know you were coming to the park today!" Mizuki said as she pulled away, still holding onto her best friend. Their bond started from the mere fact that their names sounded similar.

"Yeah, my mommy brought me!" Niyuki pulls away to pull at your dress.

"My dad brought me as a surprise, so I guess it's okay we didn't know!"

The two of them were pretty endearing you couldn't lie. They had been to the same Pre-K together before attending elementary together.

So far you had only met her mother and she was pretty kind. You only knew so much about her though and to your knowledge, she is happily engaged at this point. You two would talk often when the two played, often sharing play dates when it was your turn to have Niyuki on the weekends. That's how Niyuki and Mizuki were able to twin, have sleepovers, etc. While having other friends at school, those two were joined at the hip.

That's why you were utterly confused to hear about her father.

You knew nothing about him except for the fact that he and Mizuki's mother mutually decided that things just weren't working out. It's not like she knew much about your ex either. It seemed as though the separation of parents helped bond the two kids, but you felt saddened at how completely different the two situations were. You sometimes worried if Niyuki was embarrassed by this knowing it wasn't always easy at school due to the teasing.

"Mizuki!" A deeper voice calls out to the young girl. With the young girl's name being called, she turns around and excitedly waves him over. You pause in your tracks as you take him in.

Ashy blonde hair that resembles an explosion sits at the top of his head smothered in appearance by his hat, while his eyes are also covered by a pair of what appeared to be designer sunglasses. He sported a relaxed fit, a gray tank top with a light mesh patterned throw-over that did nothing but tease the muscles underneath the cloth, the colors on it being black and white. The look is finished off with black baggy pants and some boots. You could tell he was attractive even without the cover-up. As you finish up the assessment of your daughter's friend's (hot) dad, it occurs to you the fact that he had sunglasses on doesn't hide the fact that you were totally just checking him out.

"Mizuki, I told you to stop running off like that." He grabs the young girl and gives her a playful nuggy.

"Sorry Daddy!" Mizuki giggles and slips away from him and runs to hide behind you instead, your daughter following. They both peek from behind you, and you have no other choice but to introduce yourself.

"Hi, you're Mizuki's dad, I'm guessing? I'm Y/N, Niyuki's mom." You smile warmly.

He nods at your assumption, his expression still the same as before. "Katsuki, it's great to finally meet the mother of this other troublemaker's friend." He playfully steps in Mizuki's direction and she immediately runs to your other side, giggling.

Something about him was eerily familiar. You couldn't place your finger on it, but you simply chalked it up to the fact you have probably seen him in passing at a few of their birthday parties or so. But something about that didn't feel right… Either way, you ignore it. It wasn't a bad feeling but the fact you couldn't place your finger on it would later down the road bug you. You decide to ask instead.

"Have I seen you—"

"Daddy, can we go to Niyuki's house to watch movies now?" Mizuki cuts you off in the middle of your question, undoubtedly earning a glare from her father.

"Mizuki, what'd I tell you about interrupting people when they talk?" Bakugo lifts his sunglasses this time, his gaze revealing he was solely looking at her.

She pouts using you as a shield once again before tugging on your clothes. "Sorry oba-san…" Mizuki says with one of the deadliest puppy faces you've ever seen. There was no doubt she was one of the cutest 6-year-olds you have ever seen. How could you be annoyed with a look like that?

"It's okay, Mizuki. What were you asking?" You ask them and turn better, bending down a bit to be at both of the girl's levels.

"Can we please watch movies in Niyuki's playroom? Pleeaaseeee?" Mizuki asks and your daughter steps up to beg as well.

"Please, Mommy!! We'll be good too!" Niyuki reasons.

"I'm not sure, ladies…" You trail off as you consider that maybe Katsuki himself probably planned out for the afternoon and didn't want to forcefully make him commit to an impromptu earlier playdate.

"It's alright." Katsuki pipes up and you three look back at him. He lightly shrugs and answers as if he could read your mind, "We were going to play it by ear for the rest of the day anyways."

The two children couldn't quite comprehend the second bit of what he said, but they did understand that it was a yes from what he said in the beginning. They gleefully look at you and start tugging and hugging at you.

"Please, Mommmyyy!" Niyuki pleads, now joining in on giving you a hard to disapprove of puppy look as well.

You lightly laugh and nod your head, finally pulling them in for a proper hug and then giving them a tickle to fend off their offensive stance. "Okay, okay! We can do the movie night! But I want you two to at least spend an hour or so here before agreeing to let you two be cooped up inside for the night."

"Okay!" They exclaim in unison. The moment they break free of your grasp is when they run to the playscape. You sigh as you stand up and give Katsuki a soft smile before properly sitting down on one of the benches. He's close second to following your lead, you both now watching as the two girls play with each other as well as other kids. It seemed most parents decided today was a great day to let their kids out. Mostly because it would tire them out for the night which was a plus.

"I wasn't expecting Niyuki's mother to be so beautiful," Katsuki randomly says, cutting the silence. You look at him with a surprised look on your face, a blush starting to rise on your complexion.

"I could say the same for Mizuki's father." You bashfully laugh and un-subconsciously move to adjust your clothes. Admittedly you were not as designer dressed as he was, nor were you in your best fit. One thing to notice other than his attractiveness is that he has impeccable style. Something that shocked you a little since men in their 20s (especially with kids) don't seem to care too much these days. It wouldn't shock you if he had some sort of unconventional job.

He turns to you when you respond, a teasing smirk now dawning on his face. You don't miss the look-over he gives you and you're sure that he wasn't trying to hide it either. "You know they'll be all tired before they reach halfway through the first movie…"

"That is true…" You play into his words as you look forward instead. You feel your heart start to race when he rests his arm on the back of the bench behind you. You could feel the warmth of his skin through the cloth and welcome it. The weather was too hot but his touch was something you were starting to get curious about. "I guess that'll just leave us two to relax then."

"I could help you with that, I'm a pro at saving people."

You hum at his words, "You're a chivalrous man, that's uncommon these days," a teasing smile to rival him now finds its way on your face. "What else are you good at, Katsuki?"

"I'm also really good with my hands." Katsuki humors you, his hand shifting near your shoulder where his arm lay. "Pretty strong too."

"Ah, so those muscles aren't just for show?" Feeling bold, you reach to rest your hand on his thigh, his muscles immediately flexing under your touch.

He leans in closer to whisper in your ear as he answers, his hand now resting lightly on your shoulder. "I gotta make sure I'm always in shape to save beautiful women like you."

A buzzing near your touch catches you off guard as you try to not completely fold at his words. A catchy ringtone soon follows the buzzing and it's now apparent that what you were feeling was his phone. He pulls away with a huff and pulls out his phone, excusing himself as he answers it.

You exhale a breath you didn't realize you were holding in as he leaves. You can't remember the last time you had talked to a male, much less flirted. Most of your days surrounded working and finishing up school as you wanted nothing but the best for your kid. You didn't go out often anymore, and if you did, you only stuck around with your friends. You couldn't complain but feeling so affected like this was starting to make you feel nervous, almost like when you had got back out into the dating world the first time. You tried not to think about those thoughts.

Now, you were back to watching the girls again and they seemed to be having a blast. The day's heat didn't phase them at all and they played to their heart's content. It seemed as though they were playing cops & robbers with the other kids, and honestly, you didn't care what they were doing as long as they were being safe. The good thing about the friendship between the two was that they always looked out for each other; never mind the fact that their circumstances brought them closer together.

Even with how hard you've been trying to do this mother thing, inescapable thoughts always plagued your mind. Mainly about the fact if your daughter truly wanted to stay with you. This whole arrangement of only getting to see your child three days a week has been going on for about a year and some change now. You know that it'd be too early for her to get "tired" of you, but you can't help the fear of her getting sick of you. One thing was for certain is that you definitely are not as well off as her father although you did make sure to pick up extra shifts when you wanted to get her something real nice.

However, your moment of contemplation comes to an end when two girls come barreling towards you, their approaching giggles making you snap out of your thoughts.

"Mommy!"

"Yes?" Your eyes refocus and you smile softly at the two girls, their wild energy showing how much they truly were out there on the playground having fun.

"Can we have some ice cream please!" Mizuki asks, tugging your arm.

"Please, please, please, PLEASEEE!" Niyuki begs.

You gape a bit overwhelmed at the two young energies, trying to reason with yourself as Niyuki had already gotten ice cream prior. You were sure her best friend did as you knew that both her parents loved to spoil her—even before you had an introduction to Katsuki. It was a hot day and you didn't seem to mind, you were getting pretty hot as well…

"... Okay, but that's the last before we head home! When you finish, that's enough park time."

Your answer is to their standards as they both shower you with affection to thank you for caving into their cuteness. You roll your eyes but the smile doesn’t disappear as you keep an eye on them as they wander to the truck.

"Sorry 'bout that," The new but familiar voice calls out as he walks up to you. "Important business and shit."

Your brows raise at the casual curse and laugh a little, folding your arms as you look up at him. "No problem, but I did tell them that we will be leaving as soon as they finish their ice cream." You inform, nodding your head towards their direction as you keep an eye out for them.

"Great timing, I was about to talk to you about that."

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

The two girls were happier than ever riding together back to your apartment. They sang along to their favorite songs, played I Spy, and talked about all sorts of things you expect from children. It's easier to tune them out when you're around them long enough.

Their excitement continued when you got to your home. As soon as you reached your unit the two beelined to the kitchen after dropping their shoes and bags at the door. And yes, you guessed it, they had matching pairs too. Niyuki knew to go to the kitchen first thing though as she knew you would make something in the meantime before the movie started.

"You two know the rules! Stay near the island to avoid getting bit by sharks!" You called out to them as you fixed up the entryway. You listen out to hear them, still hearing them squeal and toy around in there. You slip off your shoes, adding them to the rest of the shoes before lazily pulling on your house slippers. "The sharks are coming in five… four… three…!" Your warning does the trick as by the time you reach the kitchen they're both sitting in their respective seats and both looking mischievous and peeking at you behind their hands. You make a show of surveying the room as if you can't see where they are and the girls are now "safe" for following your directions. "It seems as though the sharks are clear!"

They celebrate the win, now eager to watch you work your magic.

You three had a fun time as you tried your best to make sure they were safe (the entire time you were internally panicking to make sure everything was okay). Niyuki liked watching you cook and you were more than happy to help her learn as well as do some hands-on stuff. It was only natural that her best friend would follow suit in her curiosity. Niyuki's sole enjoyment of watching you cook is what encourages you to do it more often and get better at it too.

Now there was an assortment of snacks aside from their main meal. It was true that you spoiled her a wee bit when she was with you, but you couldn't help it. Niyuki was your everything and when times were needed you were able to say no.

Once you set up their bowls with their food, the doorbell rings. You figured it was the man who would make another appearance for the night.

"Alright girls, bring your food to the room." You command and watch them leave before making it out into the hallway, finally answering the door when they are both in the designated room. "Katsuki!" You smile and open the door wider.

The blonde-haired male grins at you and holds up the childishly bright bags for Mizuki. "Sorry for taking so long. This should be everything." You nod and reach for it, his actions making you pause as he pulls it a bit towards him as if to hold it from you. "Is it alright if I see Mizuki before I leave?"

You feel your skin flush in embarrassment, hastily stepping to the side and opening the door more to let him in. "I-I am so sorry! Of course, you can," You close the door and lock it behind him when he finally steps in and gets his shoes off. He doesn't need much introduction when two heads pop out from the doorway of the playroom, one squealing in excitement as she runs up to her father to hug him.

"Daddy you're here!" Mizuki exclaims and pulls him in the direction of the room. "Come look at Niyuki's playroom!"

"I'm not sure--"

"No, no it's okay! Let me clean up the kitchen in the meantime." You smile as the three make their way to the room.

Sticking to your word, you waste no time cleaning up. You have a slight hum as you move around the kitchen, appreciating how well today has gone so far. You even met your daughter's best friend, hot dad… who would've thunk? You bite your lip to suppress a giggle that threatens to escape you, a giddy smile still on your face. Gosh, when was the last time you ever found someone attractive? It felt like forever since you've been focusing on parenting, school, and not to mention having a job.

You think about how well the man dressed and how good he smelled. You had to hand it to him, he was really put together and you could see why Mizuki's mother let him in the first place. He didn't seem too bad personality-wise either. Katsuki was the right amount of cheeky and arrogant that was the complete opposite of your ex. It didn't help that his well-defined muscles and physique showed with his great fashion taste. Luckily for you though, Katsuki felt the same way about you.

When he had first seen you, there was no mistaking in the way he immediately found you attractive. Dressed in your form-fitting sundress surely accentuates everything about your womanly body. The way the cloth hung to your mounds and all the beautiful parts of your limbs. But unlike you, he was able to hide how much he was checking you out. Except while indoors he no longer needed sunglasses and he was sure you were feeling the same way about him.

Katsuki's eyes are trained on your butt as you flawlessly move around, the color of your dress perfectly folding around the two globes of your ass as you move. He leans against the doorway once he finally looks up at the back of your head, crossing his arms. "Hey," Katsuki's voice calls out to you. You whip your head around to look at him, eyes enraptured with how attractive the young man is. "Sorry for the weird behavior earlier at the park…"

"It's okay! Really. Stuff comes up sometimes, glad that you were able to get it settled." You turn off the sink and dry your hands, turning to face him as you place the towel on the island in front of you. You don't miss the way his eyes drag down to check out your body.

"The girls will probably knock before they even finish halfway through the movie," Katsuki predicts, his eyes predatory when he looks up at you. "could make it up to you while they're busy."

You shy as you two make proper eye contact. "How could you possibly make it up to me?" You bat your lashes at him, a faint blush heating your skin at the implications of his offer.

An attractive grin spreads across his lips as he pushes off your doorway. "I could show you but it's better if we do it somewhere private."

It takes everything in you to hide the chill that runs up your spine at how he easily toyed with ideas without being so vulgar with it. As if your body is moving on its own, you walk towards him and flash a smile that has equal parts of mischief and seduction.

"I'm interested."

As soon as that door closes behind you two, there is no denying the tension that fills the room. His lips are soft and hot against yours and the feeling has your body tingling. His heavy and calloused hands are tight on your hips as he pulls you closer to his chest, your hands placing themselves on his biceps to try and steady yourself against him. Katsuki hums in satisfaction, tasting your sweet lip gloss on his mouth, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip to ask for more. You willingly comply and open your mouth although timid about the experience.

You were feeling fresh in the kitchen but now that you two were getting down to it, you were starting to feel shy again. Up until now, it had practically been years since you dated a man, much less kissed or hooked up with one. There was no denying that you were attracted to this man but your mind was starting to cloud with doubts that you wish would just go away. You try to ignore it erstwhile you feel his strong hands slip down to grab your rump through the beloved sundress you wore today.

You softly groan in the kiss as he pulls away, eyes with innocent determination to see this through. His eyes are hot on you and it takes everything in you not to look away. He walks you to your bed, instantly getting on top of you once he has you adjusted to his liking. In a hurry, you move to untie one of the straps on your shoulder, his heavy hand stopping you as he leans into your ear to convey his true thoughts

"'Gonna fuck you in this dress, princess," Katsuki smirks down at you when he pulls away and stands up properly. He tugs you towards the edge of the bed so that your legs hang off the edge, his hands on your hips. He leans down to give your lips a chaste kiss before spreading your legs and kneeling between them. Katsuki's hands softly grip your ankles, the tips of his fingers disappearing at the hem of your dress. His hands slowly drag the fabric up, his hot lips that were once on yours now kissing their way up on your left leg as took his time exposing his skin. "Keep looking at me, baby." Katsuki directs when you lose eye contact with him as he finally meets your inner thigh, his teeth giving the plush skin a teasing bite. You softly whimper, the apparent wet spot on your panties deepening.

He groans at your scent and slightly pulls away to look at your cunt, his hands now placed on the back of your thighs and pressing it to your body. He takes his knuckle to rub up against your labia, adding more pressure once he reaches the top of your cunt to play with your clit. You wantonly moan as he continues to rub at your clit, the fabric of your panties creating a friction that was heavenly but frustrating you greatly. You needed to feel his fingers on you and this wasn't cutting it.

"Katsuki," You breathe out, hips bucking into his handling. He simply hums at you calling out his name, his rubbing slowing down as his gaze now has a teasing glint to it. "N-Need more, please, Katsuki," There's a whimper in your voice, only barely hinting at the desperation that this man can stir inside you.

"More've what?" Katsuki grins at how flushed your expression is, your face dreamy as ever.

"Fingers, need them." You manage to prop yourself up on your elbow as the other reaches down to tug at the panties on your hip. Katsuki snickers at your impatience, his thumb pulling aside your panties to expose your soaked cunt to him. He gives you one last kiss on your inner thigh before he wordlessly dives in.

Katsuki applies his tongue flat against your cunt and gives you a long stripe up until it reaches your clit, just like what he had done with his knuckle moments ago. A breathless moan escapes your lips as he starts to swirl his tongue against the erect bud, his textured and wet muscle taking pride in its work. He closes his mouth around your cunt, leaning more to taste more of the slick that your cunny produces. The vibrations of him moaning from the taste makes you shiver, this feeling of having your cunt licked like this felt so familiar but foreign at the same time. His eyes stay glued to you as he pleasures you, finding everything you do so damn attractive to look at.

Lapping a bit more he pulls away and spits on your cunt using his fingers to lube you up more. He wraps one of his arms around your thigh and holds it to his shoulder, holding you in place as he finally inserts two thick fingers into your cunt. Soon enough, his mouth is back into your count, the tip of his tongue playing with the sensitive bud at the top of your pussy.

The sounds grow increasingly more obscene as he shamelessly laps at your cunt and works his fingers into you. His digits curl to find your g-spot, softly teasing the spot and eliciting more volume from you. You quickly try to hold back how loud you are, walls clenching around his fingers at how good it feels. You bite your lip and suppress a loud groan from slipping out, hips attempting to pull back with no use. Katsuki keeps you locked in close to him and ups the ante by using the tips of your fingers to continue to stroke at the sensitive spot of your g-spot. His tongue now applies more pressure to your clit to bring you further.

"'Suki--" You call out, your hand coming down to grip and tug at his hair. Shivers rack through your body as a long and drawn-out orgasm hits you, his movements aiding to help you bring you down from it. He pulls his fingers out and presses his tongue flat against your cunt to clean up the mess between your legs. You move your hips back in protest and he loosens his grip to let you do so.

You watch with bated breath as he starts to unbuckle his pants, your eyes glued to what is soon to be revealed. Katsuki's movements to get his garment removed are so fluid that you almost miss it when he pulls the condom out from his back pocket. He tears open the soft foil with his teeth and applies the slippery protection onto his hard cock. You instinctively open your legs when he draws closer, a soft mewl leaving your lips when he aligns his tip to your opening.

"You good?" Katsuki softly asks, his other hand holding your thigh open, thumb rubbing your thigh as he awaits your answer. You nod your head and grind your hips against his tip, hand coming up to pull him closer to you as you answer.

"Give it to me, Katsuki."

The man grins at your plea and lays you on your side, choosing to slowly sink himself into you from your approval. The obscene moan you let out gets covered up by Katsuki's lips finding itself upon yours again, happily taking in your willful noises. At first, he takes long and drawn thrusts, trying to accommodate his size for your comfort. This position allows no remorse and you already knew what you were in for when he put you in it. When you two separate from the kiss, his lips are quick to find your neck, his hands now respectively on your ass and thigh to hold you in place. Amid a deeper thrust, he gives an equally rough bite, the force making you moan. You relax your leg more to allow him to hold you better, him taking your actions as the go-ahead to pick finally pick up the pace.

You feel as though you are on cloud nine with his wet kisses and teasing bites covering your neck, his thrusts and handling furthering your ecstasy. His skin smacks against yours as he starts to get rougher with his thrusts, hands gripping you tighter too. You grip at the sheets below you and tilt your head back, mouth agape as you so desperately try to keep up with him. He gives your ass a spank when he feels your pussy clench around him, an animalistic growl coming from him as he repeats this. He pulls away from your half-covered chest and glares at the top of your dress, now getting annoyed at the article of clothing.

Katsuki doesn't slow his hips for a second as he more than easily rips open the top of your dress and earns a discontent whine from you that gets forgotten when he presses a bit deeper into your cunt. His lips press themselves to your newly exposed skin, his tongue happily taking in one of your nipples to suckle and nibble on. There's no mistaking that he's having free reign in the marks on your skin but you're too wrapped on how everything feels to care. An expletive leaves your mouth in a string of whispers when he angles his hips to hit your g-spot, prompting you to reach down and rub your clit for more stimulation.

"Fuck," Katsuki cusses under his breath as he leans up to watch you take his cock, nails digging into your skin and enjoying the way your pussy envelopes his cock. Not to mention the hot visual of you playing with yourself furthering his contentment. He lifts your leg a bit under your knee and quickens his pace. He watches with hungry eyes as your tits bounce at the force, a pretty face to match and his marks all over your body's skin. He groans as his thrusts start to feel heavier, his orgasm impending. He nearly loses it when you grind back against him to chase your release.

There was an air of innocence that surrounded you but everything you did said otherwise. Katsuki simply couldn't get enough of you and he simply didn't want to. Fuck, he wasn't expecting his daughter's best friend mom to be super hot and sweet.

"C-Cunming…!" You mewl, brows scrunch in concentration as you finish off on his cock. His swift thrusts help in coaxing it out of you, slick dripping from your cunt and messy-ing up your inner thighs. He swoops down to give you an open kiss, tongue pressed against yours haughtily as he follows your climax with his own after a few more pumps.

After a few lazy and exchanged kisses he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two. You laugh a little as you wipe the remnants away. "That's the best I've had in a long time." You jokingly cut the silence, a chuckle from him following.

"Could say the same." He softly grunts, pulling out from you, and gently places your legs down. He effortlessly picks you up and rests you further on the bed where your legs can find refuge on the plush mattress. "You okay, need me to get anything?"

The first question confuses you. To your recollection, you had never been asked that before. Not after sex when the deed has already been done and the willing participant has already had their fill. A pang of displaced emotions starts to wrack up inside you, a nervous laugh coming from you when you realize that you spaced out trying to conceptualize what you had just been innocently asked.

"Y-Yeah, I'm good! Thanks for asking," You smile sweetly and the cute expression earns a pat on the cheek from him. Shamelessly, the gesture shot a jolt of arousal straight to your core.

"You got a bathroom around here?"

Following Katsuki's departure leaves you in silence. There was a feeling of dissonance that you couldn't really place your finger on and the fact it was all coming together was undoubtedly giving you the worst post-nut clarity ever. You didn't regret having sex Katsuki, that wasn't the case, but how not sleazy he was certainly opened up your eyes. The male decency that you have been robbed of for so long was finally starting to settle and you didn't like the feeling one bit. Tears start to burn in your eyes and you desperately try to wipe them away the longer you sit in your thoughts.

Fortunately for you though, the doorbell sounds repeatedly which slowly brings you back to the present. Your once feelings of despair and disgust are now turning into annoyance. You take your time slinking out of your bed, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and huff at how disheveled you looked. The dress that you've been dying to wear was now torn and stretched, the condition bringing a pout to your face.

You undress fully and grab one of your robes to cover yourself up with, the piece is a bit scandalous but covering you well. You quietly make your way down the hall to not wake up the two girls (if they were awake they definitely would've interrupted you and Katsuki) and finally make it to the door. You peer into the peephole and softly gasp at the person behind the door. The doorbell starts to buzz loudly again and you angrily fumble to unlock your door, it now also occurs to you that the noise could be disturbing the two young girls' sleep.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" You greet your ex with much-deserved hostility.

Shindo simply rolls his eyes at your annoyance and crosses his arms as if it were your fault for his impatience. "I called and texted you multiple times. I'm here to pick up Niyuki."

You openly scoff at his demand, standing taller at his attempt at showing his dominance. You mirror his actions and cross your arms too.

"She's staying with me for the weekend. Why are you here?"

Your ex mockingly scoffs at you questioning him, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer.

"I need to explain why I want my daughter to be with me? You know, the parent who never neglected her once in her entire life." Shindo looks you up and down, openly grimacing at how fucked out you look. "You can't even control yourself, you have no shame, do you?"

As much as you try to keep up the strong facade, there is no denying the tightening in your chest. You don't want to admit it but his words hurt you deeply. His toxic words were starting to feel all too familiar and your body was starting to shut down.

"The agreement was that she would stay the weekend with me. Niyuki's having a sleepover with her friend, there's no point of you coming here."

"Do you think I fucking care about a "sleepover" when her mother is busy being a tramp when she's distracted?" He shamelessly accuses and shifts his expression to one of fake pity and concern. "Do you think you deserve her, hm? I mean look at you, running around and can't even stay committed to us even when I've tried."

"Watch how you fuckin' talk to her, asshole."

A voice filled with just as much disdain comes from behind you, the sheer amount of aggression battling Shindo's. You immediately turn to look at him, mind moving faster than your body in your shocked state.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you exactly?" Shindo tilts his head and reaches out to push the door further to reveal who the man is. He freezes when a blonde and spiked hair catches his eyes first, his mockery of emotions from earlier now turning into real anger and a hint of fear. "Bakugo-?!"

Katsuki grabs the edge of the door and pulls it open wider to allow him more space to pass, making sure not to harm you as he gets between you and your toxic ex. "You wanna repeat that, dickhead?" He fists up his shirt and backs him away from the door. "Is that how a hero treats a woman, eh?"

Shindo curses under his breath, fighting against him. The mach attitudes between the two start to boil over as it's obvious that they have met prior. When it escalates to more than words, you start getting a bit fearful. A more aggressive push from Katsuki prompts you to call out for them to stop. One thing about your ex is that he hated being out matched and there was no denying that Katsuki seemed like the type of guy to beat that out of him. It wasn't until their exchange seemed to elevate in volume and another light next door turned on. You plead for them to stop again, your hand lightly tugging at Katsuki's arm although knowing your touch wouldn't be able to do shit against a muscled man like him. Eventually they do stop on Katsuki's accord, both breathing heavily as they stare down at each other. Your ex aggressively scoffs and shoves Katsuki away from him as he looks between you two, gathering himself.

"Have fun with the little gold digger, Dynamight," Shindo says lowly and bumps shoulders with Katsuki as he leaves.

A heavy silence is left in his wake between you and Katsuki. You tiredly rub your face and breathe out a sigh, the exhale soon turning into a dry sob. Katsuki fidgets awkwardly before reaching out to you and pulling you close, letting you rest your forehead on his chest.

"Fuck, he stresses me out," You mumble against his tank, wiping away your tears. "I'm sorry you had to witness that…"

"Hey, he's fuckin' douchebag, alright? Who gives a fuck what he thinks." Katsuki pills away a bit to cup your chin and forces you to look up at him, the gesture warming your cheeks. "Let's get you cleaned up and you can rant about whatever the fuck you want, it's getting cold." He holds the collar of your robe and gives it a playful tug. You softly nod your head then lead him inside.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had only been two days since you had first met and slept with Katsuki and the smile on your face never seemed to disappear.

Thinking about the man easily brought butterflies to your chest, memories of you two keeping you on cloud nine. After you two had gone back inside Friday night, he had comforted you in many ways. It felt silly to say it—that the foreign feeling you were getting in your chest only had one name: a crush. Not full-blown but enough that every time you thought about your Friday night—past the awful interaction with your ex-boyfriend—was one of the best times you have ever enjoyed yourself with a man.

Katsuki did listen to you. He cleaned you up, cuddled you, kissed you throughout, and eventually you two even two more rounds. Never had you felt so comfortable, so… domestic. It was evident that your bright attitude was something your daughter noticed too.

"Mommy?" Niyuki calls out from the doorway, successfully gaining your attention.

You press the small bento box you were prepping Mizuki to take home closed, a smile on your face as you welcome your daughter to make her way to you. "What's up, munchkin?"

"I have to tell you something," She tugs at your pajama pants, a look far from playful or childish in her eyes. You feel your heart sink a bit at how serious she is, bending down to get face level with her.

"Niyuki? What's wrong?" You hold her arms and pull her closer to you, trying to keep contact with her as she avoids looking at you.

"I don't want to go to Pa's this week, I want to stay with you."

You're taken back from her confession, unsure of how to process it. "What do you mean, 'Yuki? Don't you want to see daddy-?"

"No, I want to stay with you," Niyuki regains her courage to look up at you, establishing how much she truly feels. "I heard you guys last night. I want to stay with you more. Daddy's house isn't nice, I don't like it there anymore."

"Niyuki, I…" You shamefully look away at the fact she bore witness to that awful exchange last night. You felt awful that she had seen it, much less found out how dysfunctional your relationship is. You pull her in for a hug and nuzzle her hair and she is more than willing to take in your embrace. "I am so sorry you had to see that, baby. Mommy will see what she can do about how you feel being at Daddy's house, okay?" You hold her cheeks in your palms and she nods her head in agreement.

She places a kiss on your cheek and swiftly leaves the kitchen as if the exchange didn't happen, leaving you by yourself in the kitchen. You stare off into the distance at the exchange, not sure what to think or do with yourself. It wasn't until you felt a wet sensation coating your cheeks that you realized you were crying.

Faintly down the hall, you could hear Niyuki nagging at her best friend and the two giggling and playing around as children do. You sit down on the floor and rest against one of the cupboards as your doubts start to ease themselves, everything in your life turning around so fast that it's hard to grasp.

You had thought for the longest time that Niyuki was simply putting up with you. It is no lie Shindo has more resources than you. The money, house, toys, etc. he has everything you don't. He didn't need to work the extra shifts to make sure she had presents for special occasions, he could easily buy the things she needed and wanted. You thought the only things that could make a child satisfied were the things they could see, touch, and have. You didn't think the small things counted, not when you're an adult where a random Friday could have easily been one of her favorite days in her childhood.

You don't bother wiping the tears from your face as you try to pull yourself together, snot and everything clouding your nasal passage. Oddly you felt numb, like the joy you were feeling was foreign. Nothing felt real but you knew you couldn't stay sitting on your kitchen floor silently crying as you desperately tried to register what the hell your body was going through at the moment. You weakly pull yourself up using the counter to grab a paper towel from the dispenser on the counter and obnoxiously blow your nose into it. You mumble a few cuss words under your breath as you attempt to freshen up as you try coming down from the emotional rollercoaster of this weekend. As much as you wanted time to process this, doing it in a home with a kid who could barge in at any minute was hard. Especially when there are two.

The doorbell rings and you glance at the time on the stove. It was a bit early for Mizuki's mother to pick her up, but you decided you'd just invite her in until the child was ready to leave.

You lazily walk over to the door and peer into the peephole to double-check, your face twisting into an expression of shock as you pull open the door and wordlessly confront the person on the other side.

"... Do you normally answer the door looking a mess?" Katsuki teases, giving you a look over and lingering at the places he seems to like.

You jokingly nudge him and roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stand a bit taller, feeling your heartbeat pound against your chest. "Haha, very funny." You sniffle and wipe your cheek, the gesture not going unnoticed.

"Did something happen? Did that prick come over and harass you again?" Katsuki grows angrier at the idea, his expression souring.

"No, no, it wasn't that." You quickly ease his concerns and this time remind yourself to look around to make sure there aren't any extra ears before stepping out and closing the door behind you. "This morning, Niyuki told me she wants to stay with me, not just on the weekends." You look up at him finally, your lips immediately curling into a soft smile once you're able to say it out loud.

He grins and pulls you in for a hug, giving you a squeeze when you wrap your arms around his shoulder and squeal. He rocks you back and forth before pulling away while maintaining his hold on your waist. "This shit feels unreal, you know?" You lightly laugh as you look up at him, a radiant smile on your face.

"Her mother is amazing, of course she'd want to stay with you." Katsuki gives your hip a squeeze with his free hand, the action pulling your attention to the solid object digging into your side, the feeling making you look down at his hand.

"Oh," Katsuki steps back and holds up a slim, medium box that had a ribbon tied around it, holding it up for you. "Here."

"For me?"

"Who else, dumbass?"

You snort at his bluntness and shoot him a playful glare as you open the gift. It takes you a few seconds to realize what it is, a gasp following your surprise at the expensive dress, and start to close it back up. "Oh my god, I-I can't have this!"

"Why not? You'll look perfect in it." Katsuki pulls you closer with his hand that was still on your hip, his other landing on your abandoned one. "Pretty girls deserve pretty things."

You playfully push him away and look at the box again before looking up at him. "Seriously, for me?"

"Yes." Katsuki holds your chin up and softly rubs your bottom lip under the pad of his thumb. "And you better get used to it, I'll be buying you a lot of those."

"Why?" You laugh, leaning into him and tilting your head up to challenge him.

"'Cuz I'll be tearing a lot more stuff off of that pretty body of yours," He leans closer to brush his lips against yours with a smirk on his face, "Plus, I need an excuse to see you again."

He seals his promise with a kiss, hands coming up to hold your waist as he presses himself against you.

— ✮ ★ ☆ —

It had been a few months since you and Katsuki had officially started dating. Your mood significantly has changed for the better and made it a lot easier to adjust to having your daughter now finally staying with you instead of her father.

It was hard being able to advocate for yourself but the verdict was in favor since the child should be able to choose where to stay. It did help the fact that your new boyfriend, who you had learned and realized is a top pro-hero in the country, just so happened to bring the best kind of reputation to the courts.

As adults do, you did talk to Mizuki's mother before deciding to fully go through with dating the man. Ultimately it is true that she can't decide what you two do, but you owed it to her for being such a good friend to you and didn't want to step over any toes. She was more than happy to give her blessing and practically threw him over to you, more than happy to let things rest since she is soon to be married anyway.

There was nothing that could prepare you for this turn of events and every day it was easier to wake up feeling happy and blessed. Currently, you just got your culinary degree so that also means one less stress and burden off of your shoulders and another venture soon on the horizon: a head chef.

You just adjusted your graduation gown and looked around for your family, your face immediately lighting up seeing them not too far from where the graduates are exiting. It took almost everything in you not to run in excitement when you were finally able to make it towards them.

"Congratulations, honey!" Your parents are first to engulf you in a hug, the rest of the group close behind. You chuckle as two smaller bodies take your legs, none other than Niyuki and Mizuki claiming each side.

"Congratulations, Mommy!" Niyuki grins up at you.

"Thank you, Niyuki." You lean down to kiss her on the forehead and do the same for Mizuki.

"Do I get a kiss too?"

You look up at the inquisitor, a grin sprouting out on your face as you stand back up. "Of course."

He pulls you in and gives you a kiss, the action getting a mix of responses to the show of affection. Katsuki presents to you a beautifully arranged bouquet along with a promise that there were a lot more gifts back at his place.

Most days in the past you prayed for times like this, but now you were happy you didn't have to anymore.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #pro hero!bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha oneshots #mha oneshots #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav's saucin'

807 notes · View notes

helplesslyblue77 · 2 years ago

Text

You Can't Deny(That Beast Inside)

Genre: Smut, minors dni

Pairing: Hybrid!Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Hybrid!Felix is a golden retriever, Friends to Lovers, heat - Freeform, Breeding Kink, Mentions of pups and all the usual stuff that comes(haha get it lol) with a hybrid au, Dirty Talk, hints of Sub!Felix but its mostly Dom!Felix. He gets a little posessive and crazy but we love it

Notes:

bro i love hybrid au's. they weren't something id ever seen out of the kpop fandom, and ive been in a LOT of fandoms. i wonder why thier so specific to kpop

Felix, your best friend of ten years, your lovable Golden Retriever Hybrid who always smiles and makes time for you no matter what, your crush of so many years is avoiding you. It hurts your heart to admit it but it has to be true.

It started three days ago, when you texted him, asking him to come over for your weekly movie night. You received this in response:

“I'm sorry, I can't make it this week.”

He had never, ever skipped out on your weekly movie night.

You had asked if he was ok, and he had told you he was fine, just a little sick.

“Can I come over to help?”

You'd texted and promptly been shut down, rather harshly in your opinion. Fine, whatever.

Ok, so maybe Felix was sick and just didn't want to get you sick as well. You believed that until you saw him at the grocery store, perfectly fine. You marched over to him, intent on giving him a piece of your mind, but to your surprise, he had practically run away from you. Without so much as a greeting.

So you called Chan.

“Is Felix avoiding me?”

He coughed and stuttered out. “N-no of course not, why would you think that?”

Chan was a horrible liar.

“He ran away from me at the grocery store, and he won't answer my texts or calls.”

“He's just sick. It's not too bad, he just doesn't want to get you sick.”

You frowned, “If it's that bad, I should go over there—”

Chan interrupted you.

“No wait, he told us not to let you—”

“WHAT?”

“Wait name don't—”

That infuriated you beyond belief, so he was avoiding you huh?

You hung up, intent on giving him a piece of your mind.

Too bad for him, you knew his address. So you collected yourself and stormed over there, opening the door with the spare key hidden under the rocks by the porch. The house was silent when you entered, storming down the dark hallway you slammed on the lights, shouting at the top of your lungs.

“LEE FELIX.”

⊛⊛⊛

Felix felt bad about ignoring you, every minute apart from you tore at his heart, and your sad face as he had all but run away from you at the grocery store haunted him every moment.

But it was for the best. He couldn't be around you when his heat was approaching, it wasn't safe for you. He felt tense as if any minute he could jump on you and take you, with or without your permission and he would rather die than ever mess up your friendship, even if he wanted you, had wanted you for years now.

Felix had resigned himself to being permanently stuck in the friend zone years ago, and yet he still hoped that one day, you would reciprocate his deep feelings for you, but he knew it was just wishful thinking.

It had started years ago, these urges, and every heat since then Felix had barred alone, accompanied by only thoughts of you. It was dangerous to be near you when he was so close to his heat, your scent tempted him constantly, the pretty sundresses you wore exposed the crotch of your panties when you bent down, and Felix had to do his best not to take you over the kitchen table, in front of all of his friends.

Even if he knew they would enjoy it(Probably a little too much for their own good.)his sense of possessiveness couldn't let the other see you like that.

But it had been worse lately. You had been babysitting your younger cousin, a baby of only two and Felix had watched in agony as you practically glowed with the baby. He couldn’t help imagining the child was yours and the hybrid side of him longed to put his pups into you.

He knew you would look so good all swollen with his pups, and that was when Felix realized his heat was approaching and he needed to get away from you before he did something potentially disastrous. So he had locked himself in his room, in constant agony and accompanied only by his vivid fantasies of you.

So when he heard your pretty voice, shouting his name at first he thought it was just his fantasies.

But the longer he listened, the more wrong it sounded. First of all, the tone was all wrong, you sounded furious and it was acconpanied by a loud slamming sound.

And then he smelled you, you're scent too fresh to belong to the small heap of your clothes he had been desperately sniffing. And then his kitchen door slammed and Felix realized you were here. In his house. Less than a wall was separating the two of you. Felix almost came right then and there, your scent overwhelming him as he humped desperately into the mattress, still fully clothed.

You were stomping around his house, shouting his name and Felix hurriedly pulled himself out of his fantasies and bit his hand so hard it started to bleed.

The sharp burst of pain cleared his hand for a moment and he hurriedly stood up, trying and failing to hide the bulge in his pants, before giving up and taking a deep breath, exiting his bedroom.

You were furious, he could tell as you laid eyes on him, marching right up and planting a finger in his chest. Felix held his breath desperately trying not to lose it as you yelled at him.

“Lee Felix, how dare you ignore me, your not sick—”

You were still yelling but all Felix could focus on was your pretty face, you looked so radiant when you were mad, and Felix would gladly get on his knees and worship you, let you step on his hard cock with your pretty feet or maybe you would slap him, and call him a pervert. He could be your good boy, he could do that. Or if you wanted he could beg you to sit on his face, he would gladly suffocate in your pussy.

That would feel like heaven.

Or maybe if he begged for it enough you would let him fill your pussy with cum, pumping his pups into you until you were nice and round and full, and—

“Felix! Are you even listening to me?”

Felix could help it, he let out a whimper. You frowned, finally taking in his flushed cheeks, his sweaty hair plastered to his forehead, his wrinkled clothes and most telling of all, the large bulge tenting the front of his gray sweatpants. Your eyes widened, and you stepped back hurriedly. Felix followed you, trying to be as close as possible to you, even if he knew he couldn't have you. You frowned, your back hitting the wall, and parted your pretty lips, asking him a question.

“Felix? Are you in Heat?”

Felix pressed against you, and buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent in large gulps, trying his best to memorize it before you ran out of the house in disgust.

You shivered a little and Felix groaned as he smelt the sweet smell of arousal emanating from between your thighs. The strings holding his sanity were thin, too close to snapping as you thrashed against him, rubbing your thighs together. You shuddered and ground out a question.

“Felix? Do you need help? I can get someone—”

“No…”

He moaned out, his voice rough and deep and you whimpered. “Only want you, please…”

His tale swished back and forth, the soft yellow fur catching on your leg and you moaned as his pretty hands gripped your thighs desperately. “You…want me?”

The question came out haltingly, your brain muddled and overcome with arousal.

Felix nodded against your neck. “Only wanted you, always. I love you.”

You gasped at the admission, your heart full, even as your empty pussy pulsed.

Felix whined against you, the scent of arousal driving him nearly insane. He was about to tell you to leave, you needed to leave before he lost it and fucked you against the wall, but then you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him into his room and shoving him onto the bed.

“I love you too, Felix.”

He whimpered as you pulled off your shirt and skirt, your panties and bra hitting the floor. He made quick work of his clothes, and you stared greedily at his cock, gulping.

You realized that Hybrids had, um, bigger dicks than humans, but you had never realized how truly big he was. Just the sight of it made your mouth water desperately, and another time you would have loved to have your mouth on it but right now, you just wanted it inside you, spearing your insides and rendering you nearly dumb.

You could tell Felix wanted the same, even as he waited patiently for you, you could see his impatience in how his hands gripped the sheets, ripping holes and he desperately held himself back, trying to not look too desperate. His tail was wagging back and forth, at an embarrassing rate and all he could see was you. He couldn't believe this was even happening.

After years and years of deserted hopes and dreams of you, he tried to hold on to as he woke to a cold empty bed, you were finally his, not Chans, not Jisung's, his mate.

Felix could smell your arousal scenting the air, and the sight of your naked body was just too much for him. He was about two seconds from just jumping on you and taking you against the floor but thankfully, you ceased his torture and moved on top of him gracefully, lining your entrance up with his tip.

You were tempted to tease him, he looked too cute with that desperate look in his eyes, his cheeks flushed and his chest heaving up and down with the effort of restraining himself, but you didn't know if you would last, your arousal driving you nearly insane with want. So you spared him, easing down slowly on his cock, taking him one inch at a time.

He was big, and the stretch was slightly painful but the pain only served to turn you on more, and when you looked down, and saw that only half of him was inside of you, you felt yourself tighten around him. Felix knotted his hands tighter in the blankets, letting you take your time. You felt so good, so tight, the hot walls of your pussy fluttering around him and your pretty moans filling the air.

Felix still half believed this was a dream.

It took a lot of time, but finally, he was fully inside of you. You felt stuffed, unbelievably full as he pulsed inside of you, and you nearly came there and then as you looked down, noticing the bulge denting your stomach.

Felix was almost gone by now, his hybrid side so close to taking over and all he could think about was fucking you full of his pups, filling his precious mate up completely, and fucking you until you were moaning and screaming dumbly on his cock.

Before he was completely gone, he made sure to grip your face, turning your eyes to his own.

“Can I let go?”

You shuddered, and leaned in, kissing him gently. “Yes, Felix. I'm yours.”

And with those words he was gone.

He lunged forward, gripping you close to him and he pounded your pussy desperately, moans and whimpers filling the air and mixing with your own. He set a ruthless pace, his thick cock felt like it was rearranging your internal organs with each thrust and you didn't think you would ever be able to go back. He had quite literally ruined you for another man.

“Your mine, m-my mate. The others cant have you.”

At the mention of the others, you almost stopped him, but his words were slurred and desperate, and his possessive nature turned you on. You could almost feel your thoughts slipping away like he was fucking them out of you.

“Oh Felix, y-yes I'm y-yours…” you interrupted yourself with a loud moan as Felix picked up his thrusts, humping into you with wild abandon.

This desperate, possessive side of your Felix, who was always sunshine and smiles was new to you. It turned you on beyond belief. You could feel your high coming, feel the tense knot in your groin as Felix fucked you closer and closer to completion. You could feel his thrusts stutter as well.

You tried to warn him. “Felix, ‘m c-coming!”

He mumbled out more nonsense, interspersed with desperate moans as he sucked possessive hickeys into your neck.

“Make sure the o-others know your mine…fill you up with my c-cum, breed my pretty mate full of my pups…”

His hand makes its way to your clit and you scream, fingernails leaving large scratches on his back.

His thrusts turn sloppy and he ruts into you desperately, his moans mixing with yours.

“So pretty, always been so p-pretty, and n-now you're mine.”

You whimper, gripping his shoulders tightly. Your high crashes over you, and you clench around Felix's cock, he stutters, shoving inside you one more time, and moans as he cums. You feel his knot swell inside you, locking his cock inside you as he cums and the extra stretch makes you orgasm a second time, clenching around Felix as he lets out an especially raspy grunt.

He seems to cum and cum, his hand making its way down to your clit, and he rubs circles into it, prolonging your orgasm. You pull him down, sealing your lips as his cum pumps into your stomach. The kiss is all teeth and tongue and as your orgasm finally dies down, Felix’s still hard cock lodged in your stomach you feel beyond exhausted. Felix collapses on top of you, kissing your neck.

He hugs you fondly, his voice almost shy as he asks you, “Be my girlfriend?”

You giggle a little, how is this the same man who fucked you ruthlessly into the bed and still has his cock lodged inside you. You can tell he's pouting against your neck so you put him out of his misery, wrapping your arms around his naked back. “Oh course Felix.”

His cock is still hard inside of you, and you can feel yourself clench around him. He sounds almost cocky as he teases you. “Are you ready for more, Baby?”

You slap his back. “How long do heats usually last?”

He smirks, pulling away as his hands and planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

You wiggle, clenching around him.

“About a week.”

You moan as he flips you around, entering you again from the back even as his cum drips down your thighs, wetting the bed below you. You're in for a long week.

originally posted on ao3 on 2023-06-04

reposted on ao3 on 2023-06-08

#stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #skz smut #smut #stray kids smut #felix lee #hybrid au #skz hybrid

836 notes · View notes