#just sitting in my bed and all of a sudden it sounds like someone is throwing rocks on my roof | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mattsmedusa · 2 months ago

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✎ 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 ✮ 𝐜.𝐬 『 +𝟏𝟖 』

ⓘ best friends? ᚐ sexual tension ᚐ blowjob ᚐ etc. + intended lowercase. 𝐰𝐜. 𝟐.𝟐𝐤

it had been an overall good day for you. you were out with a friend of yours, having gotten your nails done and now eating lunch with her. your friend started to talk about her recent little hook up. it wasn’t anything unusual, you were used to hearing your friends talk about stuff like that, but today... something in you was more curious than ever.

your friend went on and on about how good it was and how more guys should be like the one that she fucked at that party two days ago. she suddenly nudged your arm and leaned in to whisper in a hushed tone. "he was huge, like, quite literally choked me with it—it was definitely an experience." she laughed, immediately switching to a different topic but you couldn’t shake off the sudden flicker of curiosity.

blowjob. you had never done it before and all because you were intimidated by the idea of having a dick in your mouth. now though, the intimidation was gone, only leaving curiosity behind. the curiousity was persistent enough to keep lurking in the back of your mind, even as you stepped foot inside the triplets place later that day.

chris, your best friend, was sitting on his gaming chair—his back facing you—when you walked into his room. he was so concentrated on his game that he didn’t even notice you at first. you shrugged it off and immediately plopped on his bed, sprawled out like a starfish as you closed your eyes, relaxing on his bed like you owned it.

after a few minutes, chris stretched, taking off his headset and stood up to probably get something to drink and that’s when he noticed you. his eyes widened and he recoiled, putting a hand over his heart, not having expected to see you—or anyone in that matter—on his bed.

"kid- you fucking scared me, when did you even get here?" he shook his head, laughing despite his initial surprise. "laying on my bed like you own the shit, get up." he walked over to you with a silly grin, probably plotting something, but you sat up right as he approached the bed, making him jolt in surprise at your sudden movement.

"what’s wrong with you toda-" "how do you give someone a blowjob?" chris immediately paused, mouth still agape from the word he was about to say before you cut him off. he stared at you blankly and you stared back at him, determined. a part of you regretted your words, but you were too far gone into the curiosity to take it back. "what does it feel like?" you pressed on, leaning forward towards him.

"what did you say?" chris blinked at you, not sure if he heard it right or if he was just hearing shit. "did you just- did you seriously just ask me how to give someone head?" he burst out laughing, plopping on the bed beside you as he lost his shit—not believing what he was hearing.

"you didn’t just ask me that." he said in disbelief as his shoulders trembled with laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners. but when he saw that you weren’t laughing along, he realised that you were dead serious. his laughter subsided, surprise flickering in his expression since you never brought something like this up—never sounded interested when he did.

"wait for real? you really wanna know?" he gave you a teasing grin, his eyebrows rising. "well, it’s not like i’ve sucked dick before so i can’t really tell you how, but i have gotten a blowjob before..." he trailed off, his grin widening as he leaned closer. "you want me to teach you or something?" he joked, but the joke fell flat as you nodded your head.

his eyes widened by a fraction before he let out a small chuckle, leaning back on his hands. he didn’t expect you to actually say yes, and well, why would he refuse? it’s nothing serious—or so he thinks.

chris swallowed down the worries and what if’s and slowly nodded, muttering a bit too breathless "alright" as he adjusted his position on the bed, watching your wide-eyed expression with a small smirk. "you wanna learn or no?" he teased putting a small pillow that he had on his bed on the floor in between his spread legs.

you blinked, staring at him for a good minute, not expecting him to actually go through with it. after a few seconds, you slowly stood up and walked towards him until you were right in front of him before kneeling down on the pillow. looking up at him, you noticed the way his pupils seemed slightly more enlarged than usual.

"you’ve a hairband or something?" he leaned back slightly, casually, trying to hide the fact that your proximity got his breath hitching. "so your hair won’t get in the way." he explained, watching as you leaned to the side to rummage through your bag, pulling out a hairband and tying your hair in a low ponytail with it.

"alright now..." he cursed internally at how breathless he sounded. he spread his legs wider, almost unconsciously as he felt his dick swell at the imagery his mind created of you sucking his dick with those doe eyes looking up at him. he was already half-hard and you hadn’t even done anything yet. you were just sitting in front of him looking so edible...

what is he thinking?

chris cleared his throat, finding his voice hoarse and undeniably needy. "you gotta, uh, get me fully hard first." he said. "don’t worry, i’ll guide you through it- just do what feels right." he reassured. he was starting to finally understand the gravity of the situation, but as per usual, he pushed the thoughts away.

you tentatively touched his boner straining against his sweatpants and your breath hitched at the warmth and hardness. your gaze flickered up to watch his reaction as you palmed his dick, swallowing thickly when you felt him swell further under your attention.

chris helped you pull down his sweatpants, his cock springing free and slapping his stomach before standing upright, precum already gathering on the tip. he stared down at his dick, then back at you, a small chuckle escaping when he saw your heated glance at his cock.

"staring at it like you wanna eat it." he mumbled with another chuckle. "huh?" you snapped out of your small trance and looked up at him. "you’re staring at my dick like you wanna eat it." he repeated, giving you a knowing smirk—which earned him a slap on his thigh, causing him to giggle.

"so do i just... lick it?" you questioned, ignoring the comment he made, tentatively reaching out to wrap your fingers around his base and feeling how girthy he was. he was big and long, causing you to feel that primal need to be filled. you shifted slightly, trying to will your body to behave, but fuck, he was easily bigger than any of the guys you’ve slept with before.

chris nodded subtly. "yeah... lick it like you would with an ice cream cone." he gently guided your head closer to his cock, the tip almost pulsing as a fresh bead of precum formed on the slit before slowly sliding down his shaft and onto your fingers.

you leaned closer and slowly licked up the underside of his length, from the base to the tip, with your tongue flattened—all while looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours. chris’ dick jumped in your hand, his breath hitching at the sudden warmth and wetness of your tongue. the way you were looking up at him so prettily got him feeling all types of ways.

you saw his reaction and interpreted it as you doing a good job and started to slowly become bolder, moving your hand in a twisting motion up and down his shaft while you kissed and licked his tip.

"f-fuck--" chris moaned quietly, his eyes closing briefly at the pleasure shooting through his whole body as your mouth focused solely on the head of his cock. his hand left your head to clutch onto the sheets beside his thigh. his hips twitched and jolted when you wrapped your lips around his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it.

you knew some things about a blowjob. the knowledge came from hearing about it from your friends, porn and some freaky reels you got recommended while doom scrolling on instagram. it’s not like you were completely innocent—you just hadn’t tried it out on anyone. but you were nervous nonetheless, seeking approval from him as you kept gazing up at him.

chris’ eyes snapped open when you took him deeper in your mouth. "wait- fuck, you sure this is your first time?" he breathed out, completely in awe at how good you were doing. he barely held himself back from rolling his eyes back when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked up his length, letting it go with a wet pop.

"y-yeah, is it bad?" you asked panting softly, feeling insecure about your inexperience. your hand halted its motion on his dick, waiting for his reply.

chris quickly shook his head, "no, fuck no, you’re so fucking good at it... that’s why i asked," he explained, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, dick twitching subtly in your hand. he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes silently pleading with yours to keep going.

you let out a quiet sigh of relief and went back to what you were doing. getting bolder the more chris reacted. every small moan, whine or groan made your stomach flip. your panties were now uncomfortably wet, clinging to your pussy as you eased one more inch of his length into your mouth, gagging slightly before pulling off to pump him with your hand.

chris was so close to the edge already, finding it difficult to stay coherent so he simply stuck to letting you do your own thing as he leaned back on both hands. his head was thrown back, brows knitted together in pleasure and lips parted as soft moans fell freely from it.

you watched as chris’ breathing grew increasingly shallow, his hips jerking upwards and thighs trembling ever so slightly. that’s when you understood that he was about to come undone. the sudden realisation left your stomach doing somersaults and you immediately redoubled your efforts.

"wait, fuck- i’m gonna cum... if you don’t want—mmfhh—if you don’t want me to cum in your mouth then pull off." he said urgently. his breath hitched more frequently now as the bands in his stomach grew more and more taut.

you didn’t pull away though—you went faster, bobbing your head more enthusiastically as your hand took care of what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks, sucking insistently before slowly going down and taking as much as you could.

that’s when chris suddenly held your head still between his hands, his hips giving a sharp thrust up and burying himself completely in your mouth as he came, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as breathy moans and profanities left his mouth. you felt his cock twitch and spurt out warm cum right down your throat.

chris’ hips jerked against your face, slowly riding out his high. he didn’t release your head until you slapped his thigh repeatedly, coughing as you tried your best to swallow down his release. he quickly let go of your head, mumbling a breathless "sorry" before slumping back on his bed. his chest heaved and body shuddered with aftershocks.

it took him a good minute to recover and when he did, he sat up, pulling his sweats up and looking at you like you had grown a second head. you simply chuckled at his surprised expression, wiping your mouth with a tissue from the tissue box beside his bed.

"you’re fucking insane." chris suddenly said. he was in disbelief that his inexperienced best friend just gave him the best blowjob he has ever received... and mind you, he has had his fair share of heads so when he thinks it’s good—it’s really fucking good.

"was it good?" you gave him a small grin, knowing the answer but not wanting to sound too full of yourself. your words made chris stare at you like you just told him something ridiculous.

"was it good?" he repeated your question with a laugh. "c’mon, you’re really gonna ask me that after making me moan and cum in like 2 minutes?" he teased, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he helped you stand up from your kneeling position in front of him.

"so, anything else you want me to teach you? ’cause i’m more than willing to be your personal instructor if you’re gonna do that good." he grinned shamelessly, laughing softly when you shoved him to the side.

"kid, don’t even try anything with me." you rolled your eyes, even as a small smile formed on your lips. you didn’t respond to his question, changing the subject as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, but you knew something shifted between you two after that. every little touch felt more than just a touch.

it’s probably just your imagination... right?

୨୧

✩ ˙˖˚᮫ ⁱˢᵃ ᮭ ᮭ.ᐟ i apologise for taking so long, hope you enjoy this nonetheless anon<3

[𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞!]

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @chaossturns @mels4ngel @lypsiiii @sydneyylainn @sturniolozbae @hearts4werka @strnilolover @matts-sidepiece @hearts4sturniolo @ivysturnss @bumbl3b34 @sophand4n4 @sagesturns @gwennybenny @whore4mattsturniolo @sturns-mermaid @il0vey0um0st @summersturni @ashleysturn @unknvhx @natesfavoritehoe @lizzymacdonald06 @sleepiibunniiii @plrlvssnz @patchy-icey @greekgirldreaming @moosegirl96 @sllutty-sturniolo @rinnsgalaxy @urfavvbilliemunch @pasteldreams @heartsonlyforchris @jas06sposts @elizabeth8483 @starkeysturniolo @chrisissobabygirl @emely9274 @matts-wife @courta13 @p1nkm6tter @jocelyncsblog @bamsblooming @malsmind

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

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tojisteddy · 2 months ago

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Cherry Waves | 18+ mdni, tiny plot & a lot of smut, >2k wrds (I think), cowgirl, fingering, daddy kink (pa & daddy used (idc)), creampie, dacryphilia, dubcon, overstim.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is completely and utterly exhausted after coming back from a mission. But his sleep schedule is fucked, doesn’t know how he even got a wink of sleep while out in god knows where.

The only thing he knows for a fact will lull his 6’4 build to sleep, is being balls deep in your sopping wet cunt.

He’d get home after a long silent drive, throwing his stuff to the floor, yanking the mask away and brown eyes searching for you.

Usually you meet him at the front door. Taking his things and properly setting them aside before he scoops you up and takes you to the bedroom. Today was different, mainly do to Simon being a day early. You peeked your head from the kitchen, curls falling due to gravity, confused at the sudden noise from the entrance, eyes widening when you see the blonde. Shit, you dont even know managed to say anything out your face hole.

“I- fuck- you’re early Simon.” And he blinks at you. Once. Cocks his head to the side before nodding, “wrapped things up fast to be here.” To be with you. Simon, who used to be able to go away for months at a time and was unbothered by the lack of civilian interaction, now only wanted to be out for a month or two at a time. He had something— no— someone waiting for him at home. A cute little kitten to take care of. He couldn’t leave his pretty thing alone for too long, could he? You were the one thing helping him keep his sanity. He had to be with you.

And he doesn’t say anything else, just goes up the stairs, knowing you’re right behind, following his leisure strides as best as you could.

“Sluggers at my friends till tomorrow, she really wanted to see the old pup.”

“The wash’s makin that weird sound again. I was gonna call the repair man, but you’re here now.”

“I didn’t get a chance to make dinner, but tell me whatever you want when you’re ready. I’ll whip it right up for ya.”

And the man is just barely acknowledging your words as you followed behind him to the bedroom. Grunts of understanding escaping his throat at everything statement, but he wants you to give him a quick rundown of what he’s missed. Just so he can mentally prepare for how to handle it just like he always does.

“Come ‘ere.”

He’s already pulling his clothes off, sitting on the bed of your bedroom, reaching out for you because you’re just not moving fast enough. You’re straddling him, and his hands are slowly making their was down your hips after taking off one of his shirts you had on, to your inner thighs, then grazing the back of his fingers to your underwear— they’re wet. Simon lets out a breathy laugh, “already this wet, haven’t even touched you. Been waitin for me doll?”

Like he didn’t know you were gonna get excited just from seeing him back, he’d had you on this routine even before you two were in a establishment relationship. Get the house all spic and span, stretch yourself out, take a day off from work or two— or three because as soon as he got in the house he was gonna fuck you like no one’s ever seen before. And he’s sliding your panties to the side, slipping two fingers in so they’re knuckle deep and thrusting them right at your spot.

Why so fast, you ask? Well Simons desperate. Desperate to get his aching dick inside the gooey pink walls that’s shapped for him. That doesn’t mean he’s not getting you to cum for him once, get you to melt under his touch was Daddy’s simple muscle memory. He looks away from your pussy, that’s load and soaking his fingers to look up at you who’s covering your mouth. He tsks, slapping your hand away as you whimper.

“Not gonna let me hear you? After I’ve been away soooo long?” He fains a frown, curling his fingers into you more, fingering you faster, harsher, and the butterflies in your stomach build. “Pussy so greedy princess, won’t let me go, she’s callin for me— shit- but you, you won’t even let me hear your pretty voice. You turned into a spoiled bitch? Ungrateful for what I do?”

“N-no sir.”

“No? Then let me hear how much you’ve missed me dollface,” the moans leave your mouth like a second language, your lost in pleasure, grinding your hips against Simons stomach and he hums in delight. Atta girl, what a good girl.

“I wanna- lemme- haa, cum. Pa can I? Nngh Daddy-“

Simon rolls his eyes, flicking your forehead with his free hand, silly thing, “Cut the whinin out ‘nd let it go.”

And you unravel so beautifully, thighs shaking, pulsing around his long fingers, slick drenching them. It’s almost dizzying how good you cum so much so you lose yourself while Simons connected your lips, it’s so sweet. Bewitching, getting you all worked up all over again.

Usually when you’re taking him, he has to give you a swat on the thigh or ass so you dont try to take all of him at once, but you were taking it nice and easy today. Just like he taught you. Slowly taking Simon’s veiny member inch by inch, practically choking his airway by how tight your cunt was. His eyes fluttered closed his eyes, letting out a breath in relief once you bottomed out, tip giving a slight kiss to your cervix. Christ, this was were he was meant to be. Inside your drenched pussy for the rest of his life.

He’s kneading at you hip, other hand caressing your your stomach (freak) up to your jaw.

“Took it so good princess. So fuckin warm, love that shit.”

Awww, he was being sweet.

No actually this time, when you were good by ‘helping him out’ after being away for so long Ghost was soft with you. Praised you, worshiped you, thanking God for letting him get back to your pretty face, sweet voice and mesmerizing cunt. And it’s so slow when you start moving, his head of blonde hair resting on your shoulder, shuddering breaths leaving his mouth. Like a wave, he’s drowning in the feeling. Drowning in you. Addicted to whatever mystical being that you were. He’d drown a million times if it meant being with here in his big arms, holding you so you’d melt into each other.

He didn’t know if he could admit, his precious thing, he needed you. It made him sick thinking of a life without you. He had to have you. Forever and a thousand more years, to hell and back.

“Missed you so much Daddy mmph- so happy you’re b-back,” you gasped, you were completely and utterly full, hips rotating and moving up and down on his length, all you could do was mewl, “Did so good out there baby. Protectin everyone— fuck- protecting me.”

If you thought that the military man didn’t have a praise kink, you’d be absolutely wrong. Your words were like music to his ears, his eyes finding you and that beautiful enthralled in ecstasy face. the real reason he was able to continue in day in and day out doing his job that was fucking his brain up. You were a sign that he was doing something right.

“I’m a baby? Babies protect the world, huh?” his lips curved up.

“y-yeah,” you whined, fuck, you were barley thinking. Babbling.

“Yeah?”

“Yes pa, mmph- you’re my baby.” You sniff, your waterline filling with tears. Even if you’re the one doing all the moving this time, Simons good, too fucking good at making you feel— well— good. And he’s everything. Everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed, so much so, it doesn’t feel real. His hands are everywhere, pulling, kneeding, nibbling. Focused on getting you there because you felt divine around him, just how you were supposed to be.

“That’s fuckin silly love, can’t be your baby and your daddy, that doesn’t make any sense does it?”

What an annoying brat this man was, you slap at his shoulder as he laughd, pulling you chest to chest, your nipples getting hard from the friction. “D-Don’t tease.”

“You love it, the way youre squeezin me, you definitely fuckin missed it. juuuuust how you love my dick. Shit, wanna make me cum? Don’t you baby? Use me. Ride it just how you want and make your daddy cum.”

And it’s fucking loud as you slam yourself down on him, the clap, clap, clap of your skin colliding together with every movement. You don’t even know how your eyes didn’t glue themselves to the back of your eyelids yet because the way Simon was stretching you out, keeping you niiiice and full as you clawed at his back, you should have. All you can do is gasp as your orgasm takes over you, you try pulling yourself away, but Simons pulling you closer. Whispering, “Shhh, shhh, shhh, it’s okay princess. Feel it. You can handle it.”

You’re a fucked out, mewling mess but still, Simons there. His mouth connecting to your nipples, sucking and biting as his hands on your hips, rutting up into you, he grips your curls with one hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “Fuckin move [+], told you to use me.” And it doesn’t matter that you’re exhausted, tears streaming down your face, your hips burning, sobbing that it’s too much. You’re some how, very sloppily, moving your hips because you were Simons good girl, you’d do anything to make him feel just as good as you did.

“Ahuh, that’s girl, my pretty baby girl.” Ghosts practically bruising your hips, groaning at how good your tight cunt is as he plops you up and down on his cock. You feel is length twitch and the tiny movement sends you over the edge again, screaming a pornographic moan as a shit, shit, shit leaves the scarred man’s mouth.

“Fuck meeee baby, that’s it, milk it.”

It’s so soft, light, as Simon cums inside you. His tattooed arms holding onto you like a vice, keeping you steady so you’d take everything he gave you, whispering in your ear of how good you were for your Pa. How he was so happy to be back in your arms. He’d lay you both down as you passed out and bundling you both up in the comforters. All while making sure you stay stuffed with him, because after you both took a much needed rest— Ghost would be back at it by sunrise.

Fucking you like you were the last person on earth.

a/n: would you believe me if I said this has been sitting in my drafts since February? Lmk what you think. Inspo: Cherry Waves by Deftones obvi.

most recent masterlist more meanie!simon

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱<3: @figthoughts @tessakate @sevikasblackgf

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seumyo · 5 months ago

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bakugou’s never been happier to do this alongside you.

The sound of Bakugou’s ringtone—specifically one for those calls—the kind that only came when villains decided to cause trouble at ungodly hours—jolted him awake on the second ring. The kind that meant neither of you were getting any more sleep.

He groaned loudly, his voice raspy from sleep. “Son of a—” He didn’t even finish the curse as he snatched his phone and squinted at the glowing screen. “What the hell is it this time?”

Beside him, you stirred, mumbling groggily as you pulled the blanket over your head. “Is it another one?” you asked sleepily, your voice muffled.

Bakugou ignored you for the moment, his phone pressed to his ear as the barking voice of the dispatcher filled the room. His brows furrowed deeper, his scowl turning deadly as he listened to the report. “Villains in the old district? At this hour? Those bastards don’t sleep or somethin’? Yeah, yeah—I got it. We’ll be there.”

He slammed the phone down on the bed, letting out a deep sigh as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “Goddamn it. I hate this stupid job.”

You let out a small laugh beneath the blanket. “Liar.”

Bakugou glared at the lump of fabric that was you—his partner. “What’d you just say?”

“You heard me,” you teased, peeking out just enough for him to see the drowsy smile on your face—which can barely be seen with the dim light of the moonlight outside the bedroom window. “You love this job, Kats. You’d combust without it.”

“Like hell I would,” he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m only outta bed ‘cause I don’t trust those extras not to screw up.”

“You’re up because you want to. Big difference.”

“Whatever.” Bakugou shot you a glance over his shoulder. “Hurry your ass up. Don’t got time for you to sit there all cozy like we ain’t got villains to blow up.”

You didn’t budge.

“Give me two minutes. I just need to—hey!”

Bakugou had moved without warning, stomping back to the bed and scooping you up in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised squeak as he effortlessly picked you up, blanket and all, and cradled you against his chest.

“Katsuki!” you protested, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, barely sparing you a glance as he carried you toward the door. “You’re slow as hell when you’re tired. This’ll save time.”

“You can’t just carry me every time we get called in!”

“Watch me.”

He stomped down the hallway, his bare feet thudding against the wooden floor, while his voice dipped into a string of curses. “Stupid villains. Stupid middle-of-the-night calls. Stupid hero work. I’m gonna blast whoever’s causing this into the next century.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter now, your head falling back against his shoulder. “You sound like a cranky old man.”

“Keep talkin’ and I’m droppin’ you,” Bakugou threatened. “Why the hell are you laughin’? Think this is funny?”

“Very. You’re like my happy pill.”

“Yeah? And you’re heavy,” he grumbled, though the way he carried you effortlessly said otherwise.

“Excuse me?!”

A corner of Bakugou’s mouth quirked up as he looked down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes despite his perpetual scowl. “I didn’t say nothin’. Quit wastin’ time.”

You smiled against his shoulder, listening to him grumble about this whole ordeal. He sounded pissed—like the world had wronged him personally by waking you two up—but you could see the truth in his actions. His grip was steady, his movements careful as he carried you to where your hero gear was waiting. It was such a Bakugou thing to do: grumble and complain, but still take care of you without hesitation.

By the time you make it to the gear room, Bakugou carefully sets you down on your feet. You wobbled slightly from the sudden shift, and Bakugou’s hand instinctively shot out to steady you.

“Oi, don’t fall on me now.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes before turning to grab your hero suit. “You’re way too grumpy for someone who just carried me all the way here. Admit it—you love being a hero.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You do, though,” you teased, already halfway into your gear. “I know you do.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue, but he didn’t argue. Instead, his voice softened just enough to make you pause. “I wouldn’t do this job if it meant leavin’ you to deal with shit alone.”

You stilled, looking at him from the corner of your eye. He was standing by the doorway now, fully suited up and waiting for you, his face set in his usual determined scowl. But something about the way he looked at you, about the small, unspoken truths in his words, made your chest feel warm.

“Y’know, you’re so sweet to me at the most inconvenient times. Why can’t you say things like that when I don’t look like I’ve been ran over by a truck because I’m sleep deprived?”

“Die.”

“Is that your way of saying you love me too, Ka-tsu-ki?”

He scoffed. “Hurry up, dumbass. We’ve got work to do.”

“Ha! You didn’t deny it, so I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Shut up, you’re annonyin’.”

You smiled faintly, finishing the last of your preparations before walking over to him. “But you love me.”

“Of fucking course,” Bakugou said, opening the door and stepping out into the brisk night air. “Let’s go. Those idiots could only hold out for so long ‘cause they really had to call us in.”

You followed close behind, still smiling to yourself as you fell into step next to him. Despite his grumbles, despite the curses under his breath, Bakugou had never been happier. Because at the end of the day, no matter how ungodly the hour, you were always there—and as far as he was concerned, nothing else mattered.

Because he loves this job—especially when he’s doing it alongside you.

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katz-rambles · 10 months ago

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Aphrodisiac sex with Viktor has taken over my brain. So I'm gonna write about it 🤭.

My first Arcane fic!! Wooo!! I hope I wrote his character well!

(nsfw, fem!reader, use of aphrodisiacs, alcohol mentioned, masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), dom-ish!reader, sub-dom!Viktor, Viktors a tease, friends to lovers?, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

The night started out normal, enough. You went out with some friends for a nice girls night out filled with drinks and gossip, and it was an amazing night. You're relatively tipsy by the time everyone is ready to go home, it's about half past midnight, and the only thing you can think about is going to bed. That is until, about half way home. A sudden spark flows through your veins, creating a dull fog in your mind. Maybe you had a bit more to drink than you thought you did.

You've decided to walk a tad bit quicker to get home. A small apartment in the downtown of Piltover, it's a nice size and not too expensive, especially since you're sharing it, and the fact that there's only one bedroom inside just adds to the fact. You're just glad that Viktor doesn't mind sharing a bed.

You have to fumble with your keys for an embarrassing amount of time before you can actually unlock the door. It's silent inside the apartment, there's no sign that Viktor has already come home. Although, that wouldn't surprise you, ever since he and Jayce started to work on the Hextech, you've been seeing less and less of him in your shared apartment.

You push off a shower until the morning, it can wait a few more hours, it's too late. When you enter the bedroom, you almost scream when your eyes focus well enough to see someone sitting at the small desk in the room. So he is home, you rub your temples and sigh. He’s always staying up late. You don't want him to hurt his back, more than he already has, by being in such an awkward position all night. So you gently grab onto his shoulders to try and wake him up, his shirt has slipped and your palm rests on the bare skin, the warmth that comes from him could burn you. From such a simple touch that foggy haze fills your head once again, when Viktor is in a better position you'll get a drink of water. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and carefully shake him, a sad attempt to wake him. You would just carry him to the bed, you're strong enough, but you don't want to irritate his leg.

“Hey, Viktor.. are you awake?” You whisper, when you feel him stir. No response comes from him, but you're not going to give up any time soon. So this time you try a different method, you crouch beside him and lift up his head to try and see if he's awake, and he's not. Of course he's not. But you're determined to save his back from his hunched position. Each time you try something different and your hand makes contact with him, you can feel another spark flow through your veins and the foggy haze in your head gets stronger. Maybe this time you'll just splash him with ice cold water, but that'll probably give the poor thing a heart attack.

“Viktor, come on. You can't stay like this,” you groan and try to shake him awake, once again to no avail, and your feet are starting to ache from crouching in your heels for so long. At this point you're starting to give up, and you try to shake him one last time. Your hand rests on his waist this time, the other on his arm, you can feel the warmth of his body, along with his scent, a mix of oil, metal, and his shampoo that creates an intoxicating smell that you'll never get enough of now, from this position and, as much as you may hate to admit it, it sparks a dull throb in your core. “Vik.. please?” You shake him, trying to ignore the fire that's sparked inside of you, and this time he does wake up. A shallow gasp escapes from him as he pushes his head up and rubs the back of his neck. He lets out a low groan and looks over at you, the noise has you thinking about just how he would sound if you had your way with him.

This time it's his turn to shake you from your, not so innocent, thoughts, and he pushes himself up from the desk, now standing while you're still crouching. The position puts you at the perfect level that your thoughts start to wander again. “Just how much did you have to drink?” He chuckles as you stand yourself up, one of his hands reaches to press against your forehead, and it burns. You can't tell if it's him or you that's warmer, but the contact has a familiar pulse starting at your core. Just before he's able to say something you push his hand away from yourself. “Enough,” you reply, trying to shake the feeling away.

He scoffs and leans against the desk, and you can't deny how fucking hot he looks. His hair is messed up, his clothes have wrinkles in them, and his hands, god his hands, have traces of whatever he was using back at the lab on them.

You decide to take a shower now, maybe this way you can deal with the problem of your hormones raging like a horny teen. The warm water feels like it's been sent straight from heaven and down on your aching muscles, you can feel yourself relaxing under the water. You let your hand drift to your breasts and massage the flesh of one and then the other, feeling your nipples harden under your palm. Each touch you give yourself, you let yourself imagine that it's Viktor. You place your free hand over your mouth to silence your gasp when you push a finger inside your hole to find yourself dripping from such light touches. You curl your finger up to try and hit that one spongy spot inside you, and when you finally find it, you hope that your hand muffled the loud moan you let out. You slowly add another finger, wishing it was his instead of your own. You set a steady rhythm of your fingers, while grinding your swollen clit against your palm. You bit down on your hand in a sad attempt of silencing yourself, silently praying that the mix of your palm and the running water will be enough to not let your moans escape the bathroom. You start to speed up your fingers as you feel your orgasm get closer, desperately grinding against your palm for the friction you crave against your clit. Soon enough your orgasm crashes down on you, and you let out a loud moan. Now you're left panting from the aftershocks of your orgasm, yet even after that, the haze and pulse is still evident. Maybe you should just sleep it off.

The shower you had was relaxing and when you come out you find Viktor sitting up on the bed, with a book in hand. You crawl into bed beside him and lay your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes and relishing in the cold feeling of the fabric against your, still burning hot, skin. Even after a long shower the feeling hasn't stopped, and now being right beside Viktor, it's seemed to double. “Are you okay?” Viktor asks, when you lift your head up from the cold release of the pillow, all you can muster is a nod, if you open your mouth you're afraid you might just moan, you can feel his body heat from under the covers and his scent is evident in the bed. “I'm fine, Vik, think I just had a little too much to drink,” you laugh and rest your cheek on one of your arms, “but I'll be fine after a good sleep.”

Viktor sighs and lifts your face up, his hand holding your chin. He studies your face and you can feel your face heat up from his intense gaze. “Hmm, you don't seem fine. You're practically burning up,” he states. The way his accent sounds when he speaks has you clenching your thighs and hoping he doesn't see you doing so. He keeps your face in his hand for a few more seconds before he finally lets go, “maybe it was one of the drinks you had making you burn up.” He brushes some stray hairs out of your face and he shuffles so you're both laying down, he pulls your face closer to him and squints his eyes at you, before he can say anything else you pull him closer and kiss him, feeling his reciprocate the kiss just spurts you on more and you thread your fingers in his hair.

He rests a hand on the curve of your waist and when you feel it you pull away and feel yourself internally panic, “holy shit, I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue whats gotten into-” Before you're able to finish your scentance he pulls you back down and kisses you. His hand trails down your waist towards your thigh and he strokes the side of your thigh, occasionally giving the fat of your thigh a squeeze. “I told you. It was one of the drinks.” He mumbles against your lips and grabs your hip and pulls you closer, you take the hint and quickly climb on top of him, straddling his hips, and he groans when you grind down on his semi hard erection.

You pull away from his lips just long enough to tug his shirt off, quickly doing the same with your own, before connecting your lips again. You start to trail kisses down his jawline, towards his neck, leaving a kiss on his adams apple, and moving to the side of his neck to leave more kisses and occasional harsh sucks to form a mark, savouring the noises he lets out every time you do. Being careful to not hurt his leg, you move yourself down to trail your kisses lower and lower until you reach the hem of his pants. “May I?” You ask breathlessly and he chuckles, “you practically tore off my shirt, you think I'd say no now.” He scoffs, a teasing undertone to his words that causes the throb in your core to heighten. You pull down his pants and boxers to let him dick out, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a few strokes before you wrap your mouth around the tip, licking up the bead of precum that's settled there. He groans and tangles his fingers in the strands of your hair, not pushing or pulling but just resting his hand there. You start to bob your head, making sure to tease the tip, relishing in the noises he's making, a mix of delicious groans and whimpers leave his lips and it spurs you on more. He thrusts his hips up and the tip hits the back of your throat causing you to gag around him, his fingers gently tug on your hair and when you look up at him he lets out a loud groan. You use one of your hands to reach down and rub your clit, matching the pace of your fingers with the pace of your head. He thrusts his hips up again, this time a little rougher, and you know he's getting close. You swirl your tongue around the tip and he pulls your head off him. “No, when I cum, it'll be inside you.” He says, and you whine at the loss of friction when you pull your hand away from your aching clit. He pulls you to him and kisses you, savouring the way you taste and groaning when he tastes himself on your lips. You pull your pants off and straddle his hips again, lifting yourself up and lining his cock up. You give him a few strokes and slowly start to sink down.

The stretch is delicious and you moan when you've lowered yourself all the way. He brings one of his hands to your thigh and rubs it, you place your hands on his chest and start to lift yourself up. You whimper as you do so, adjusting to the stretch. A few seconds of just having his tip inside you, you lower yourself back down and repeat, slowly getting faster and rougher with each bounce. Soon you're riding him, one of your hands is on his chest, supporting yourself and the other rests on Viktors hand that's squeezing your thigh. You speed up a bit more and he groans when he feels you clench around him, his head falls back onto the pillow. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings it up and starts expertly rubbing your clit, for a second you find yourself jealous of his experienced fingers.

“Viktor! Fuck.. please don't stop!” You moan and clench around him, his hips start to rut up to meet your bounces. You both know that you're close and you know you aren't going to last very long. Your moans start to become more frequent and at a higher pitch, one of your hands leaves red scratches down his chest as you feel your orgasm get closer. Your nails dig into his skin and you bury your face in his neck, biting down on the sensitive skin when your orgasm hits you, your pussy pulses around his cock and with a few more thrusts up he's cumming inside you, his muscles tensing and he's moaning.

You both lay with each other for a few seconds before Viktor speaks up, “do you feel better?” He chuckles when you nod, you're still panting and you rest your forehead against his, a sheen of sweat on you both. You whimper when you push yourself up and feel his softening cock slide out of you, the globs of cum that drip out of you make you whine. He grabs your hips and pulls your pussy closer to him. “I can't have you dripping on the bed, we just changed the sheets.” He groans and pulls you so you're sitting on his face, his tongue lapping at your folds and tracing your clit. You can feel the vibrations of him laughing when you squirm on top of him, his hands have a tight grip on your hips, ensuring you don't move too much. You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as you start to grind your hips on his face. He ravages you, eating you out like a starved man. The curve of his nose bumps your swollen and sensitive clit deliciously and you pull on his hair at the feeling, when you do he groans into your pussy. He doesn't slow down or even hint at stopping as you can feel your third orgasm of the night creep up on you.

“Fuck! Viktor.. ‘m so close!” You whimper and grind your hips down on his face, the obscene slurping noises that come from him just fuel your arousal. You tighten your grip on his hair and your thighs tense around his face as your orgasm hits, your squirming as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He laps up all of your juices until you're trying to push yourself off from sensitivity. “There we go,” he sighs when you move off his face, he has a sheen of your arousal around his mouth and he licks his lips and smirks at you, “now you won't drip on the clean sheets.” You laugh and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you, you can taste yourself on his lips and it’s one of the best things you’ve ever tasted.

“How did you know it was the drink?” You ask him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with each word that leaves your lips. “Aphrodisiac, it was easy enough to figure out when you came out of the shower. You're not as quiet as you think you are,” He smirks when you groan at him. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, one of his hands rubs your back, drawing random shapes and figures, and successfully lulling you to sleep.

#viktor arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #arcane league of legends #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane x female reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x you

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lostalioth · 7 months ago

Text

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

→ premise: marc could get possessive, very possessive infact and when that happens he cant seem to hold back.

→ pairing: marc sceptor x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, face sitting, thigh biting, oral [f receiving], nicknames [mine, my girl, sweetheart], possessiveness,

→ a/n: kinktober 06

Marc tended to be a little hotheaded and possessive when it came to matters involving you. It was normally Steven taking the brunt of it, though it made no real sense for him to get jealous. Though in instances that didn’t involve Steven, you were normally able to pull him aside and calm him down.

this was not currently one of those times, the two of you were attending a work party at your office. A coworker of yours had practically pulled you from Marc's arms to go talk. Though his version of talking was him flirting relentlessly and trying his hardest to get you to leave the party with him.

By the time Marc found you again, he was seething in anger at the man. As he walks up he starts noticing your coworker was flirting with you and trying to touch you. Marc had been tired and ready to go home so he let his possessive nature take over, though he knew once it did it was hard to shut off.

“Yeah, hey bud she's with me and we're leaving now” he nearly growls out at the man as his hand snakes its way around your waist when he walks up next to you. His sudden and fuming presence beside you makes you jump slightly though you were grateful for the save.

With a small scoff and not so cleverly hidden eye roll, your sleazy coworker stomps off. You barely have time to question the latter half of Marc’s statement about leaving before he rushes you towards the exit.

The ride home is silent besides the soft hum of the car and the sounds of the night flooding the air through your open window. Marc tight knuckled the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as his gaze was fixed to the road ahead. You’d normally be worried or scared in a moment like this with someone else, but with Marc you knew he wasn't mad at you. He was protective as well as possessive and so he was more pissed off at your scumbag coworker who didn't seem to grasp the concept that you were taken. You were sat clenching your thighs, he looked so good in that damn button up shirt you made him wear to the party that you were ready to stay home, so you were more than happy to be headed back.

In the blink of an eye you’ve made it back home and Marc is quick to jump out of the car and rip open the passenger car door, pulling you out of the seat and throwing you over his shoulder. “Guess I’ve just gotta mark you up sweetheart, that way you go into work tomorrow and all those men you work with know you’re my girl” he explains as he walks towards the house, holding you up on his shoulder with one hand on your waist and the other across your thighs right under your ass. You loved when he marked you, proudly showing them off when you could, though you could never show them off at work sadly, and he knew that.

“Marc I could’ve just walked inside on my own- hey!” He cuts off your protest with a short but solid smack to your ass.

You let out a huff and try to ignore the ache settling deep in your core at the action, your pussy already aching for his touch. You’ve never told him although he already knew that you secretly liked it a lot when he’d get like this. It made you feel wanted, even if Marc had no problem telling you and showing you in a million and one other ways just how much he wanted and loved you.

You let out a squeal when Marc drops you on your back onto your shared bed, you bounce slightly catching yourself by leaning back onto your elbows. Marc stands at the foot of the bed, eyes already full of lust and lidded as they raked over your body. “Strip sweetheart, you’re gonna sit on my face” he commands, his voice oozing with impatience.

You move fast to peel your clothes off along with your soaked panties, quickly un-clipping your bra and letting It fall off your shoulders, discarding it all on your bedroom floor. He's on you within the blink of an eye, maneuvering your bodies so he is laid out on his back, your thighs either side of his head and your pussy hovering over his face.

“My girl, all fucking mine nobody else’s” he growls and grabs ahold of your leg, opening his mouth and biting the inner plush of your thigh. You let out a gasp in both surprise and slight pain, squirming in his grip. He switches over to your other thigh when he is satisfied with the mark his teeth leave behind. He hums against your thigh as he bites down, rubbing softly at your leg to try and soothe you. The pain morphs into pleasure the more you get used to it, the indents of his teeth in your thigh makes your core tighten.

While you're lost in your own train of thought, Marc’s mouth lets go of your thigh with a small pop. He licks over the mark of his bite, a smirk growing on his face, he knew they wouldn't show as you couldn't wear short skirts to your office but he has never been more graceful for an HR rule than that one. Being pleased with his marks he now focuses all his attention on your leaking cunt above his mouth. With his grip on your legs he pulls your body down onto his face, licking a strip through your folds, drinking up your slick.

You moan out in response as your hips involuntarily grind against his mouth. “Mhm! Fuck Marc.. baby~” you whine out as his nose nudges your clit when his tounge licks and pushes through your folds. Vibrations float through your body as he tries to mumble out something against your pussy. Threading your fingers through his messy hair you use that leverage to pull his face away from you. “What was that love?” You question, using the short moment his mouth is off you to catch your breath.

“Maybe I’ve gotta put a ring on ya’ finger, that way those assholes at work will definitely know your spoken for, that youre all fuckin mine” he groans and pushes against your grip to dive back in and resume his mouths asssult on your throbbing cunt. His tongue pushing through tour slit distracts you from his statement about potentially proposing to you. Finally giving your aching clit attention, wrapping his lips around it and sucking, even biting softly at the bundle of nerves. His teeth send shivers down your spine, your thighs slightly shaking at either side of his face, he uses his hands gripping onto your legs as leverage to pull you even further down, forcing all your weight to be put on his face.

→ a/n: this wasn’t proofread, i rushed it and i kinda hate it lmao but I needed to get this out, i can already feel my effort and motivation for kinktober dwindling a bit.

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kurooh · 11 months ago

Text

INTERRUPTED ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. he hates it when someone (or something) interrupts his time with you.

⟡ feat. gojo satoru, kento nanami, fushiguro toji, kamo choso.

⟡ warnings: 18+ content (mdni), modern au, roommates! satosugu in gojo’s, stupidity, phone calls, being walked in on, oral [m&f]. not proofread

⟡ xoxo juno: first time writing for jjk.. i’m nervous about the characterizations; i’ll write more characters for hcs if i get reqs. rbs are loved !!

— GOJO SATORU.

“t-toru, that’s perfect, faster please,” you plea, tangling your fingers in his snowy hair and pressing his head closer to your dripping pussy. gojo lets you, whining a little as he scissors his fingers in and out of you and licks at your clit.

you inhale sharply, back bowing right off the bed; a large hand spreads your thighs impossibly wider and press them into the duvet beneath you.

“oh, i’m gonna cum,” you whine, hips jerking towards his fingers desperately. bright blue eyes latch onto yours, and he’s about to watch you fall apart when—

“yo, satoru!” your boyfriend’s roommate, geto, calls breezily from behind the door. before either of you can respond, the door opens and he strides in, looking at his phone. “what do you want for dinner tonight? i’m going to head out to go shopping and—” he looks up, and a pillow nails him right in the face.

“get out, suguru!” gojo yells, covering you with part of the duvet.

geto laughs awkwardly, a blush blooming across his face, and he apologizes quickly before stepping out and closing the door.

“also!” gojo calls, facing the door as he sits down beside you, “tonkotsu for dinner tonight!”

— NANAMI KENTO.

“fuuuck,” kento groans lowly, pressing your head further into his pelvis, his cock sliding down your throat. blond strands fan out around his head as it drops back onto the couch cushions behind him, his eyes fluttering shut.

your soft hands stroke the parts of his cock you can’t fit in your mouth, wet sounds mingling with your choking and filling the room. “angel,” he sighs, fingers soothingly rubbing against your scalp, “this is perfect, i love it when you—”

a familiar ringtone cuts his sentence off, and his face twists in aggravation as he lifts his hips, fishing his phone out of his back pocket with his free hand.

“i’m sorry. it’s ijichi.” kento answers the phone, his cock starting to soften in your mouth.

your eyes meet his as you mischievously slide off the length of his cock, your lips gently suctioned around his tip. kento sits up, his eyes widening, and he’s about to mouth something to you when you slam all the way down, placing your hands on his thighs for support.

he gasps sharply, nearly letting out a moan; he reassures ijichi, who sounds worried.

“oh, yes i’m alright. something nearly fell off my shelf is all..” his voice drifts off and his eyes become lidded, his cock hard enough to cut diamonds.

a heat rushes through your body, and you clench your thighs, removing a hand from his own. you fingers slip into your panties, rubbing at your clit as you look up at him, mouth full. on the phone, ijichi rambles on frantically about something that’s probably not even important, and kento bites his lip, slamming you down hard.

the sudden movement and force of his tip plowing into the back of your throat has you choking, pussy clenching as tears build in your eyes. he looks at you, hearts practically in his eyes, and moves the phone as far as he can from him.

“please, angel— make me cum, just like you always do.”

— FUSHIGURO TOJI.

“you like bein’ fucked like this, huh?” toji grunts, his breath coming out in hard pants, warmth fanning over your face. moaning, and desperately attempting to feel him deeper, you spread your legs impossibly wider.

“yes, toji!” you whimper, hands running down his muscled back; your nails bite crescent moons into the sweaty skin before they rake down his back as your eyes roll back into your head. “a-ah, i want you to fill me up, please—”

“don’t worry doll,” toji murmurs, beads of sweat rolling down his temple as he fucks into you much harder and unforgiving than earlier. “i-i’m gonna fuckin’ stuff you until you can’t breathe. gonna take it all like a good girl, yeah?”

you nod eagerly, eyes shining with tears while your pussy clamps down on his thick cock. he can barely breathe when you’re like this, so pretty and pliant and willing beneath him, taking his cock greedily. your tits bounce, smacking against each other due to the force of his thrusts; he palms at your ass with a large hand of his, squeezing the plush skin before slapping it.

toji can’t wait to fuck all his cum back into you.

“baby, i’m gonna fuckin’ cum—SHIT!”

his face contorts in pain, the cum rushing back down into his balls, and before you can even register what’s happening he’s pulling back and choking out curses.

“what happened, toji?” you’re at his side immediately, rubbing at his back soothingly before he pushes you away, clearly embarrassed and unhappy.

“fuckin’ hamstring cramp, god damn it.”

he rubs at the back of his thigh angrily, his cock deflating between his legs as he grunts out something scathing below his breath.

“i’m fine,” he hisses, punching the back of his leg before finally laying on his back. “fuck, i don’t know where that shit came from.”

“well, you’re getting to that age..” you tease lightly, a smile splitting your lips when he glares at you, hard, and roughly yanks you between his legs, raising them both carefully, for fear of another debilitating cramp. his half hard cock rests against his pelvis, and you stare at it briefly before he pushes you towards it.

“let’s hope you don’t have any more old man cramps, toji.” you stick your tongue out at him before leaning your head towards his tip.

“you better shut that mouth before i fill it for you, princess.”

— KAMO CHOSO.

“o-oh, fuck,” choso heaves from beneath you, his jaw slack with drool trailing down as he watches you ride his cock. the ripple of the muscle beneath the plush skin of your thighs and the soft bounce of your tits always leaves him stuttering and unable to look away from you.

“you like it, baby? want me to go a little faster?” your voice is sweet and soft as your small hands press into the muscle of his pecs for balance.

“mm mm, this is perfect..” he sighs, his back arching uncontrollably as you slowly slide upwards, leaving his tip inside you. then you sit all the way back down, shivering. “are you getting tired?”

“a little,” you smile, giggling softly as he places his hands on your hips. your voice promptly breaks into a whimper when he starts to thrust upwards, erratic and strong as his cock stretches you out and fills you up.

close to going dumb on his cock, you gasp, fingers reaching up to pinch and tweak your nipples for extra pleasure.

“c-choso, right there,” you choke out helplessly, pressure building inside you, all over and racing through each limb.

he finds himself gasping after a particularly rough drag of his cock against your ridged walls, leaving him thickening and throbbing inside you. the room fills with the heavy sound of skin smacking against skin, choso’s deep groans, and your whiny moans.

“so good, s-so good,” he mumbles, back bowing off the bed. strands of his dark brown hair are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead and temples, the rest bouncing against his head and the pillow as he fucks you.

your mouth opens in a plea, eyes half lidded; but you snap your mouth shut and your eyes widen in some kind of panic that has him sitting up, the mood practically ruined. choso’s about to ask what went wrong when he hears a loud pounding at the door and a whiny voice calling for him.

“chosoooo!” the voice is unmistakably yūji’s, and his knocks only grow louder and rougher. “you comin’ out here or what? you’ve been gone for a while and everyone’s looking for you!”

oh, right. the party that he and yūji were hosting at their shared apartment, which is full of their closest friends and the sound of happy voices downstairs.

“i’ll be downstairs in a bit,” choso fights against the urge to snap at him, “five minutes, okay?”

“alright,” yūji finally calls back, sounding disappointed as he stops knocking and leaves you and his brother in bed together.

your eyes widen as he slowly lifts himself out of bed, clearly disappointed but gritting his teeth through it nonetheless. he pulls at the hair bands on his wrists, tying his hair into its usual spiky buns on either side of his head.

“cho!” you gasp, thighs clenching, “we’re not gonna finish up?”

“can’t,” he huffs, rubbing a hand over his face as he makes himself accept it. “we need to go downstairs, we’ve been gone for far too long.”

“i-i was gonna cum,” you whine, peeling yourself away from the bed against your will. tears form in your eyes in absolute frustration. “please don’t do this..”

he sighs before he leans in to kiss you hard. he looks at you, his face flushed and clearly just as unhappy as you are, though his feelings are hidden. “later, when everyone’s gone, i promise i’ll make you cum again and again.. you’ll be begging for me to stop, crying and shaking.”

your face heats quickly, and you look towards him happily, eagerly anticipating later.

with a sexy little laugh, he asks, “does that sound good, baby?”

#kurooh #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x you #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk x you

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carbonfiction · 2 months ago

Note

impulse stress baking would be appreciated by either Matt or Frank, but reader is not safe if it's being done at late hours, in which they will be railed or fucked into exhaustion.

Matt has his S/O's scent and touch ingrained into his routine and mind, defecting is not an option he needs his cuddles (and yes he will be mean about it, teasing reader for wanting to work so hard on baking when they could work on making him feel good)

Frank just worries for their sleep schedule (which is accurate pls I can't sleep normally) but also can appreciate their baking yet will at first gently try to coax them back to bed, only to just rail them over the counter if they insist they can't sleep due to a sudden burst of energy.

But it all ends with their girl cuddled up in their arms fast asleep from exhaustion yet satisfied, and their baking can wait til the morning.

Oh my god please!! I loved every second of this one!! As someone who does have bouts of doing this (and had to be banned from the kitchen past a certain time when i was younger bc of it😭😭) this one got me. Biiiiiiig time.. I mean omg sleep scheduling with Frank and Matt when god?! When!!!

Like you cannot tell me they wouldn't immediately be looking help you and if sex helps get you all fuzzy and tired?? Fellas are not going to complain.. Whatever their baby needs <3 Also fun fact you guys, i have an oldman logan draft i never finished surrounding a similar concept and hik eating reader out on the kitchen table..😭 But without futher yappin!! Heres some thoughts! <3

Midnight munchies w Frank and Matt!

Warnings?; mentions of smut, doggy and riding, unprotected sex (its hot but in this economy??) fairrrrly fluffy although Matt is a lil mean in a sexy way.. Master list

I can see Frank standing against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest with a sleepy scowl tugging his lips. Large figure just watching the way to try (and fail) to potter around the kitchen quietly. On the counter sits a glass bowl, edges covered in flour and two large baking sheets. On one sits small balls of, what frank guesses is chocolate chip cookie dough- one of his favorites- while the other rests bare in preparation. Frank swipes a hand across his face, tired and slightly irritated as he sighs, padding closer. "What're you.. Christ sweetheart again?"

You grin cheekily at the sight of him, at the broad expanse of him shirtless, scared chest on full display as his sweats sit low on his hips. A slightly dough covered hand coming up in a wave. "'S okay, m' just making cookies frank!"

You're gleeful in tone, too gleeful for 3:30am Frank thinks. This little habit of yours growing out of control. Infact, it makes him worry a little. "Yeah? S' just cookies?" he asks, rounding the counter to tower behind you. "Then why cant they wait until tomorrow.."

"Cause i wanna do it now..." you hum, trying to grab at the scoop besides the bowl. Franks large hand stopping the move in your tracks. Your shoudlers drop just a fraction, almost in anticipation as you sigh. The sound a little frustrated despite your usual enjoyment of the task at hand. "Besides.. Got too much energy to sleep frankie"

"Too much energy, that right?" he grumbles with a nod, head dropping down against your shoudler, tilted just slightly until you can feel the puffs of his breath on your neck. "My girls feelin all restless again.. So why didn't ya wake me like i told you last time, stead of this?"

You sigh, still trying to persevere with the trapped scoop. "Looked too comfortable.. Besides, you need the rest Frankie.. "

"Oh im the one needing the rest, sure." He huffs, breath puffing against your skin in a way that makes it prickle. A smile twitching at your lips at the feeling, his free arm coming to wrap around your middle, pulling your frame against the warmth of him. "what'd you say we get rid of that energy hm, fussy girl?" that hand squeezes your waist at the same moment his lips kiss that spot just below your ear.

Frank feels you shiver, smirking almost knowing against your skin, your tells far to obvious to him by now. "Gonna let your frankie take care of it? Get that restlessness gone?"

Its no more than ten minutes before frank does infact get that restlessness gone. The cookie dough abandoned into the fridge and sweats pushed beneath his knees. Thick cock bullying into your gummy walls in controlled rocks of his hips that make you sob quietly.

Your fingers, clean of the dough thanks to franks mouth, grasping the counter tight as your legs tremble beneath your weight, hardly holding you up. Panties and sleepwear looped around one ankle as you shuffle slightly, making frank chuckle. "Gettin all shakey now, You close sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl and cum on that cock f'me?" voice rough as his arm tugs you back against his chest; holding you up and not giving you an escape to the pleasure that blooms in your core.

Its not long before he's luring you into an orgasm, ached against his chest as his fingers draw figure eights to your poor clit. "Yeah, yeah there it is, you give it to me sweetheart" Bouncing you back against him until the heat of his own release paints your insides, your head drooping forward tiredly.

"There we go.. I know.. I know sweetheart" he rumbles, making quick work of tucking himself back into his sweats as he softens. Hands coming back to your hips to tug your underwear and sleep bottoms back up.

Fuzzy headed and pumped full as you let him spin you round, picking your frame up until your still shakey legs wrap weakly on his hips and hes carrying you down the hall. "lets get you back to bed, All tired out now huh?"

Its fair to say you sleep better than you have in a while after that, cookies abandoned until the afternoon after a morning spent content in Franks arms. Perhaps next time you'll take his advice and let him help..

And with our dear dear Matthew? Well, how dare you interrupt his cuddle time..

"Now Sweetpea.." Matt tuts, making you startle as you turn to him stood against the far counter, unable to hide the smirk that graces his lips at the kick up of your heartbeat. "What did we talk about?"

"Matty! You gasp, flour covered hand over your chest. "You scared me."

He makes no moves, arms still crossed. "Asked you a question baby.."

You sigh, head angled down slightly as you shuffle quietly on your feet, voice a little guilty. "You Uh.. Said i wasnt to.. To bake in the middle of the night.."

"Mhmm.. Thats right." Matt nods, stepping closer to trap you against the counter. Your back pressing into the cool marble."So you wanna let me know why I've woken up to your side of the bed cold.. House smellin of sugar and cinnamon?"

"Cause.. " you start defeated; thoroughly caught as two of his fingers tilt your jaw up. A smug expression on his face at the way you melt into the touch slightly. "Cause i was baking.. In the middle of the night.. Again."

He hums, other hand making its away up your arm. "I know.. And you know i cant sleep comfortably without you.. So what're we going to do about that hm?"

"goin to.. To let me finish up.. N ill come back to bed?.." you try a little mischievously and matt cant deny it amuses him. Defiant and cheeky, thats you alright.

Except, it doesnt amuse him enough. Doesnt make him huff out the usual laugh you love. Instead his stance remains stoic, unbreaking. Too tired and unwilling to let you play your game- this messy kitchen situation is breaking into his nightly cuddle time and Matthew Murdock does not play about that with you.

"Oh good try.. Real good try sweetpea.." he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead with something much more tender than his tone of voice. Grip on your shoulder tightening just enough to allow him to push your frame around to the couch. "But No.. No were gonna get you tired out instead. Use up all that energy in a different way.. "

And much like Frank, Matt uses up that energy quickly.

Cinnamon and sugar still hanging in the air as it mixes with the scent of sex. The honey sweet of your arousal coating his lap, your thighs, slick and shiney. The sloppy sounds from your gooey cunt sending that extra spark of embarrassment down your spine.

"Mhm there you go, that's it sweetie." matt grins, hands on your waist as he helps bounce you down on him. Plush thighs bracketing his hips as you ride him desperately. "Fucking yourself on my cock like a good girl. Feels so good doesnt it?"

Your heartbeat pounds erratically in both matts ears and your own, sweat clinging to your skin from the enthusiasm. "Matt- matty please.."

"Please what sweetpea? What'd you want me to do?" he smirks, a low chuckle sounding out at the way you shiver in his hold. He can feel the tight clenches of your cunt, feel the ripple of your walls as they quiver around him. Your close, so fucking close, but your finally getting tired. Exhaustion slowing your pace considerably.

"Oh.. Oh i get it.." Matt murmers, dropping back against the couch cushions slightly. His hips jut out a little further, feet flat on the floor as he runs a hand up your spine until it rests against the back of your neck and pushes. Scruffing you just slightly, like a misbehaved animal. "My baby's gettin sleepy now huh? Needs me to do all the work.."

You dont have time to think, let alone respond before his cock punches deep and fast. Your squeals muffled against the juncture of his neck as you little but take it. Tears brewing in your eyes as they flutter and roll. "G-gon..gonna cum, oh fuck Matty!"

Matt just grins, hand pushing your head further into his skin as you squeak and squeal, body going lax in his grip as your orgasm crests. "Yeah. Yeah you do it. Just gotta cum alright? Cum on that cock like a big brave girl, then we'll getcha to bed.."

That night you hardly remember even ending up in bed, the last thing you recall being Matt pounding inside of you so quick it was dizzying. Wearing you out so perfectly that it keeps you held in his arms past the pestering blair of your usual alarm. Cinnamon gone from the air now as your half finished dough still sits on the counter abandoned. Your soft, past out snores drawing a smug smile back to Matts lips.

#lost my mind about this one #Especially after the most recent born again ep #I mean SWEETIE?? Matthew please #my insides are too empty for this #frank castle x reader smut #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #matt Murdock #matt murdock x reader smut #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil smut #The punisher #The punisher smut #carbonasksforasks

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commandershepardvasfuckit · 2 months ago

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There’s a learning curve to being in an arranged marriage to someone who’s a different species, especially with biological differences.

(Period sex, rut/heat, size difference)

————

Your monster husband was always determined to take care of you, even if at times he could be a bit smothering. The first time you got your period after your arranged marriage you just wanted him to leave you alone, stubbornly he insisted on fussing over you even though he had no idea what was going on.

A few weeks later he went into his rut, though he kept his distance and only asked to spend some time sitting cuddled up to him and letting him rub his jaw and cheeks against the sides and top of your head.

You settled into a routine of taking care of each other as you grew closer. He stowed away little treats for you, going as far and importing teas and other goodies for you from your home kingdom to spoil you with during your period. Happily he’d rub your achy joints, keep you distracted with stories, and made sure you ate and took your medicine.

During his first rut with you he just wanted to nuzzle and cuddle, too scared to ask for more. You sat on his lap while he cooked breakfast at the hearth, him happily purring and nuzzling against you to help him get through his rut.

You grew closer, started bathing together, sleeping snuggled up, and eventually slept together. He was a nervous, easily flustered thing in bed and much preferred you to lead, well except during a rut. It seemed to be the only time he had no problem setting the pace, an often slow, deep pace. It wasn’t what you expected when you first learned about a rut, but you had no complaints.

Now you laid curled in bed, the second day of your period while your husband fussed over you. He had just brought you some pain medicine and tea and now was making dinner, always insisting that you didn’t lift a finger. He may not completely understand what a period was, but he knew you didn’t feel well and that was all that mattered.

After dinner he drew you a hot bath and helped you wash off. He helped you change into fresh clothes, and rubbed your achy joints before fetching you the bag of grain that was warming up by the hearth to help soothe your cramps. You life here was much simpler than at your family’s estate, but your husband was kind and loving, and you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

It was still quite early when you felt him shifting about, and felt his erection against your backside.

“Love, it’s early and I’m bleeding, give me a few days” you sleepily muttered.

He just whined against the top of your head, repeatedly poking the back of your thighs while he tried in vain to slip between, seeking any friction he could, “Please” was all he could manage.

You’d recognize that soft, needy whine anywhere and you just sighed. It wasn’t his fault that his rut happened to coincide with your period this time.

“My dear, is there anyway you can wait a few days?”

“I need you” his voice was desperate, it almost sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“I know,” you reached up to scratch his head and try to soothe him, “but it’ll be gross, and messy.”

If you were back home and married to a human your handmaids would have attended to you for the week and you would have stayed separate from your husband. It had taken a lot of getting used to with having your monster husband here taking care of you, but you couldn’t imagine sleeping with him like this.

“Not gross,” he whined back, “it is just you.”

“It’ll be a mess.”

“I can clean everything up. Just please.” His voice was breathy and he was shuddering with every breath.

You still weren’t sure about it, but you also hated to see him like this. You shimmied out of your pants and undergarments before lifting your top leg up and tilting your hips back so he could line himself up. In one swift stroke he buried himself in you completely and you let out a hiss from the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry” he apologized, but held still so you could adjust. Slowly he began to move in slow, deep strokes, filling you completely and distracting you from your cramps and achy joints.

He was so warm like this, his chest pressed against your back and one large hand resting on your stomach right where your cramps were. If anything he was a better heating pad than what you usually used.

As usual, he seemed completely at peace the moment he was in you, just purring while nuzzling you. It was cozy like this, his purring and body heat was soothing and his slow pace was enough to give you some tingles without shaking you up too much. Honestly you could have fallen back asleep pretty easily like that, his massive frame just wrapped around you and completely enveloping you.

It was nothing intense, but your toes curled and you sighed contently as his slow pace finally built enough to tip you over the edge. He followed right after, softly moaning into your hair while you felt warm cum filling you before dripping out mixed with your own fluids.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You took a moment to survey yourself, “Really good actually, my cramps and joints aren’t near as bad now.”

“Good. Do you mind if I stay like this?”

“That’s fine, as long as you keep a hand on my tummy, you make a really good heating pad” you laughed.

He gently kneaded his hand into you, which felt nice against your sore muscles, “Of course, my love.”

You spent the next few days splitting the difference between period care and his rut, though to be honest your husband’s warm hands and cock might be better period care that what you were doing before anyways.

#monster fucker #teratophillia #monster lover #terato #monster x reader #monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster husband #zen thoughts #Zen’jan

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district4loading · 4 months ago

Text

Under My Spell

Kiss of Life Belle x Male Reader

5K Words

Content Warning: smut, hypnosis, use of handcuffs, praise, a little bit of degrading

Minors DNI

A/N: I got the request to do this almost a month ago but back then I was really busy and I had other requests to get to first. Now that my writers block is partially gone, I'm ready to write and work on everything else I've been requested. This was supposed to come out two days ago but I ended up getting sick and I couldn't finish it lmao.

This is my first time writing something like this, I know I probably got some aspects of it wrong so just vibe yeah? Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

The request: "would you be open to writing a smut about hypnosis? like where the reader and idol decide to try out hypnosis?"

Maybe hypnosis is real

You're laying in bed when she brings it up.

She just came back from the nail salon, her purse slides off of her arm and onto the dresser when she asks you "Babe, what's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?" She peels herself out of her denim jacket, the one you bought her recently that she called 'ugly.' You fail to mention it though because you begin to question the context of her inquiry.

"Probably like... bondage stuff" You look up from your phone, "Where's this coming from?"

Belle only begins to strip herself of the remainder of her clothing before muttering "I'll get to that." You watch as she throws the worn garments to the side before digging through the dresser for something more comfortable "Wouldn't you find it hot to have complete and utter control over someone, tell them to do something and they're on it with no hesitation or thought behind it" She steps into a pair of shorts "No matter what you ask, they do it mindlessly"

You tilt your head, trying to follow wherever she's going with this. There's a smile on her face but it's not just any smile, it tells you that she's testing the waters, trying to gauge whether or not you were into whatever the hell she was getting at now. "I mean... I guess? I'm not sure"

"You guess?" She gives you a look before pulling an old, loose black t-shirt over her head. She then crawls into bed and you're not surprised when you find her straddling your waist with her hands snaking underneath your shirt. "So... you wouldn't mind putting me under your spell so you could get me to do whatever sick shit you want me to?"

"That sounds like some weird MK-Ultra mind control shit" You chuckle, then wince after she pinches your abs with her sharp nails.

Belle hums "Yeah that's exactly what I mean..." You watch as she backs up a bit, then she begins to think, "well actually I was talking about hypnosis but you get the idea... kinda sorta"

"You want me to hypnotize you?" She nods and now you're confused "You can't actually believe that works babe..."

"It works" She insists, then slaps your chest when she sees the unconvinced and almost judging look on your face.

That's when you realize she's dead serious about it "What makes you want to try hypnosis all of a sudden?"

"Well" She begins tugging at the hem of your shirt "A friend of mine told me about how she and her boyfriend tried it and it sort of inspired me"

You stay silent for a bit, reminding yourself not to say anything slick so she doesn't get upset with you. "So how does it work? Do I get a pocket watch and swing it in front of your face or something?" You end up snickering a bit, still finding this conversation to be more humorous than serious.

Belle gives you a look, trying to hold in her own laugh "No, you idiot! I'll send you some videos later and.." She smiles mischievously before sliding off of you then she goes over to the dresser and digs her hand into her purse. You quirk your eyebrow and sit up to better see what she's doing. The moment she pulls a pair of hand-cuffs out, your eyes widen.

"We're gonna need these too"

So after watching countless videos, you finally think you've mastered the art of hypnosis.

Maybe not "mastered" but you got the gist of it. You've got no clue why you agreed to this in the first place because there was still something in the back of your mind telling you that this would never work and if it somehow did, she'd only be pretending. It's probably the boring pessimist in you that makes you think that way but this seemed interesting. So you keep your questioning thoughts to yourself as you reach into your drawer for the handcuffs.

Belle smiles at you in your dark bedroom, the warm light from the lamp on your nightstand is on the dimmest setting. It makes her naked body look so perfect, highlighting each and every one of her beautiful curves. You walk over to her, putting the cuffs on the bed before you take your hands in hers. "Ready?" She hums and nods her head.

"Now, I want you close your eyes to take a deep breath" She does as you say and you can hear the sharp sound of her nostrils taking in the cool conditioned air, her chest rises with it. "Now slowly exhale" and her chest falls gently "Now breathe as you listen to my voice, focus on it and allow everything else to fade away"

You keep your tone gentle and soft to put her at ease "The faint hum of the air conditioner, the rain outside, the cars passing by, block it all out" You notice that she's still taking those deep breaths, then exhaling them with soft grace. "Just focus on me, allow that tension and stress to melt away. No work, no schedules, just you and I"

"Now listen to my words" You pause for a moment "You'll do as I say, be subservient to me" You begin pulling her into a mindset crafted and molded by you "You want me to handcuff you" At this point, Belle holds a straight face, she doesn't even flinch or cringe at your words. Not even a smirk or a giggle, like you've actually got her in some sort of trance. "You feel the urge to do anything to get me off" and "You will not want us to stop until I say we do"

"Keep your breathing steady and at the snap of my fingers you will awaken with all of these desires"

You raise your hand and put your thumb against your middle finger, then *snap* and her eyes immediately open. There's something about her gaze that you immediately observe, it's kind of dark and empty and she's got a completely blank expression on her face. "What do you want?" You question her softly.

Belle looks over to the handcuffs and picks them up, then she holds them in front of you "Please" She says it with her voice just above a whisper "Please cuff me"

You swallow, not at all recognizing the tone in her voice. It has a chill running down your spine because it sounds almost desperate, like she's really begging for it. You begin to think that maybe this hypnosis shit is actually real and it scares you a bit. But you still take the handcuffs out of her hands as she puts her hands out for you.

It takes you a moment cause you're not used to this but you manage to get them on her. "Knees, princess" You order and just like that, she's dropping to her knees in front of you "Good girl" You mutter under your breath as you look down at her with nothing but lust in your eyes.

It's weird, this was actually turning you on more than you thought it would. Having so much control over her without a fight for dominance or her usual bratty attitude.

No doubt it already has your blood rushing.

So you don't waste any time to pull off your shirt then you unbuckle your belt and you take your jeans off. You take your hard cock into your hand and you pump it slowly "Open" Her lips part and her tongue pokes out "Suck" Is the next thing you say as you guide the head into her mouth.

Almost immediately, she begins bobbing her head mindlessly. Her warm mouth is so wet and welcoming and the feel of her fleshy, slippery inner cheeks and her smooth velvety tongue has your nerves so sensitive. You groan deeply as you allow your hands to run through her scalp then your hips start thrusting forwards because she's beginning to swirl her tongue and it feels incredible. She doesn't even need her hands, so much control, so disciplined and obedient for you. Belle takes your cock like a pro, sucking and slurping it tightly to provide the utmost pleasure and its fucking perfect.

She makes enthusiastic noises as she sucks your cock, like she's been starving for it, like your pre-cum is the best thing she's ever tasted.

You stop for a moment and hold her head still, then you push all the way in so her nose is pressed up against your base. Almost like you're a sadist, you hold her there, watching the way her eyes well up with tears. "So beautiful" You compliment, admiring the look of her glossy eyes. Her throat squeezes you as she gags "Ah fuck" You moan, pushing your hips just a bit deeper and Belle swallows, nearly making you dizzy. So you loosen your grip on her head and she continues to bob her head wildly.

It's like she has no gag reflex with how fast she's going and how deep she's taking you. Each drag of her mouth has you stuck just staring into her eyes, those dutiful brown orbs that tell you she's not going to stop until your cum is shooting down her throat. At this rate, it may not be too far away. "Oh—fucking god" You bite your lip, muscles clenching as she continues to suck you off.

All she can really do is hum and moan with her mouth stuffed full with your cock, the sticky noises only adding to your arousal. You can feel it coming already. She's ruthless with it, flicking her tongue in ways she never has before. "I'm going to fucking—" You can't even finish your sentence because she has your needy cock throbbing in her perfect mouth.

It's muffled, but you can hear it when she moans and starts bobbing her head quicker, like she wants nothing more than to get you off. You don't even realize it when you grip her hair tighter because you're too focused on being at the edge. Usually, when Belle would do this, she'd stop at the last second just to tease because like the brat she is, she enjoyed seeing you squirm. However, it didn't seem like she'd be doing that now. By the look in her eye, you can tell she's going to fucking milk you for all you've got.

Now you're starting to really get the idea of this whole hypnosis thing, even if she's just faking it. You place your hands on her head because even though you know she won't go anywhere, it feels right. You take a deep breath and then "I'm cumming" you announce with a low and long groan escaping your lips. Your eyes shut so tight you can see spots behind your eyelids and in a flash Belle's taking it all down her perfect throat.

It's almost like she can't get enough of you, the way she keeps on sucking she pulls out any bit of semen you have left. She swallows it all and you pull your hips back weakly when she tries to get you back in her mouth "Okay, thats enough" You chuckle tiredly and then she sits back on her heels.

Now the deadpan expression on her face is gone and it's replaced with an eager smile. There's still something off about it but you can't exactly pinpoint what "Did I do good?" She asks, waiting for your response with some drool at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah, baby" You sigh "On the bed, on your back, now" Another order comes out of your mouth, and you sound more natural about it.

Belle licks her lips then stands up, it takes a little more effort for her to climb onto the bed because of the handcuffs but she does it eventually. "What do you want, princess?" You ask the question again, because you're intrigued about what she'll answer.

"Use my body, please sir I want it so fucking bad—I need it. Need you to use me until you're finished I won't be satisfied until you're done with me" There's this genuine yearning in her tone, something that you almost don't recognize at all.

You go with it though "Lift your arms until they're above your head" A smirk grows on your face as you get a perfect view of her tits. You climb onto the bed and you get on top of her, positioned so that you're almost sitting on her stomach "You gonna let me use these perfect tits?" You ask as if she has any choice in the matter.

Still, she nods her head frantically "Anything" She whines as you grab a hold of her breasts in your big hands. You cup and squeeze them, like always, they're better than fucking pillows, so soft and squishy. You place your cock in between them and press them together on it, you groan immediately when your feel the perfect warmth.

"Fuck yeah" You groan as you begin to move your hips back and forth. She only looks up at you with that lustful look in her eyes. You gather some saliva in your mouth, then you lean over and spit it out. It lands on her boob, then it trickles downwards and you spread it around as you keep fucking her tits.

It was always something you wanted to try out, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask yet. You were kind of afraid she'd laugh at the idea and you didn't exactly know how she'd take it. Belle would probably be down for literally anything you wanted to try out and it was the same for you—which is why you agreed to do this hypnosis thing in the first place—but you could still do without the teasing that'd come with it.

Your cock slides between her breasts without any resistance whatsoever, it's all smooth and slick and it feels so fucking good. With her hands over her head she just lets it happen because she's fucking loving it. The almost harsh grip you have on her tits has her squirming because she wants to be touched and used in other places, obviously.

You keep the pace though, wanting to stay in this moment for just a little bit more before you move on. "How does it feel baby?" She gives you those expecting eyes, like she yearns for your approval.

So you don't hold back your praises "Incredible, your tits are fucking amazing Belle... I could do this forever" You sigh, listening to the slick sound each of your movements make.

"Why don't you do it forever then? I wouldn't mind" She teases but her tone tells you that she's not really joking.

Maybe hypnosis is real

A small chuckle escapes your lips as you stop your movements "If I did that, I wouldn't be able to get to the best part"

"Which is?" She figures she can let her hands rest on her belly.

You reposition yourself so that you're in between Belle's legs at this point "Right here, princess" She hums when you place your palm on her soaked cunt. It's all slippery and slick with her arousal, she's been absolutely aching to have you inside of her. Your cock throbs at the mere thought of it.

"Please sir"

The way her voice sounds in your hears has you smirking, so fucking desperate. Normally, Belle had far too much pride to beg like this but now that she's under your control things are different.

You might actually prefer it this way

"Please what darling? You want my cock or what?" You mock, wrapping your fingers around your cock so you can nudge it against her entrance. You don't put it in though, you merely slide it up and down her slit slowly, lathering your swollen cock head up with her wetness.

A choked moan forces its way through her throat "Yes! I fucking need your cock—fuck—just inside please just...use me, fucking own me"

"Jesus, you're a fucking slut" You bite your lip, slapping your tip against her needy cunt just to get her that much more riled up before you begin.

"Your slut" Belle corrects, bucking her hips up like she really needs you.

So you stop messing around and you slide your thick cock into her hot entrance. Her walls pull you in immediately, hugging your cock so tightly that you have to stifle a moan "Fucking hell" you whisper instead. Belle exhales softly as you make eye contact with her then you slide yourself in all the way until you reach the hilt.

The look on her face is pure content as you begin to move inside of her. She watches you, not missing the subtle ways your facial features contort from the pleasure. "Fuck me" She begins to pull at the cuffs, fingers trying to grasp at anything while you pick up the pace.

If she wants to get fucked, I'll fuck her—is what you think to yourself as you lean over.

You're moving faster now, hearing a jumbled up mess of words that escape her lips as you do. She's saying your name like its a prayer, begging for it deeper, faster, harder all at once because she wants you to give her everything. "Fucking—please!! more..more..more" It sounds like she just might die if you don't. So that's exactly what you do, you give her probably more than she can handle.

The quiet bedroom now has the sound of your skin slapping against each other echoing throughout it, then there's that filthy sound coming from between your legs—her arousal is audible especially when you bottom out. It's almost like a splashing sound over and over again occurring fast with your punishing thrusts.

"You feel so fucking good, so fucking tight and wet for me" You spit, watching in real time as you dumb her down with your cock. She's blabbering about something, something about how your cock is too good, how she can't get enough of it. That's about all you're able to make out because she's cutting of her own sentences with loud moans then seemingly forgetting whatever she was going to say next.

You smirk a little because you've whittled her down to this complete and utter embarrassing mess. She wants to touch you—to feel your body and you can tell by the frantic way her hands are moving. You almost snicker at how pathetic she looks right now. "What's wrong? Gonna cum already?" Is the question you ask upon noticing that familiar breathing pattern "Go ahead, do it" you grit through your teeth.

She's gasping for air deliberately, like she has to remind herself to breathe. Still she's able to chant "yes-yes-yes-yes-yes-yes" right before the poor girl stops breathing all together. You keep it hard and deep as she goes silent, your grunts being the only other noise that can be heard over the filthy noises of your sex.

Her body stiffens, only moving from the impact of each of your thrusts. Then finally she exhales, legs shaking as she cums all over your cock like she's been longing to. Her cunt clenches around you so tight that it has you not too far behind her. You let your body fall onto hers so she can feel you close as you ride her body through her orgasm, your hips rolling forwards all slow and calculated. "Good fucking girl"

When she's finished you pull your hips back to slip your cock out of her. She whines, not liking the feeling of being empty but she doesn't say anything about it. "Where should I finish?" You question her, lifting your body off of hers. You get off of the bed and reach for the nightstand where the keys to the handcuffs are.

You grab them, then you un-cuff her "I'll be happy with whatever you choose, sir" she whimpers, breathing heavily as you move to flip her over.

It's a bit difficult to get a good grip on her sleek skin, but you're able to do it so she's flat on her stomach "Hands and knees." Belle immediately finds the strength to do so, pulling her body up so that she's in the position you've asked her to be in. You get behind her and your hands find her waist "I think I wanna cum in this tight pussy" You mutter, guiding your sensitive tip to her stretched cunt.

It's begging to be filled again, to be pumped full of your seed.

"Then breed me babe" She breathes, pushing her ass back in an attempt to get you inside when she notices that you're teasing. You only smirk, then you part her lips with your tip, gathering up all the clear slick between her legs. "Come on" Belle moves her hips side to side.

First you run your palm over her soft, round ass and then you slap it harshly. She lets out a pleasureful shriek as you watch the red shape of your hand form on the pale skin. You run the same hand up her hips and stop at her waist which you grip tightly before slip your cock back into her needy cunt.

You put your other hand on her waist, holding her in place while you push your hips forwards. "Christ" You groan because she's way tighter in this position. Starting off slow seems like the right move at first because she's whimpering, so you do.

Until she lets the side of her head rest on the mattress, so she can look at you the best she can in this position. "Don't be afraid to get rough with me babe, I can handle it" She bites her bottom lip so hard you fear she might draw blood. "Use me" She begs you for the nth time with that perfectly seductive voice of hers, making it so hard for you to hold back. You weren't even sure what you were even holding back for anyways.

So while keeping a good grip on her waist, you begin to jackhammer your cock into that wet warmth. "Fuck!" A broken scream tears through her lips and it almost worries you but the lust takes over. You keep hearing it in the back of your mind. use her, use her, use her. So much that you don't care if you're going too hard "Yes! you're fucking me so... fucking good sir!" She keens.

You lean over and reach your hand to find a grip on her hair. She gasps at the sweet pain that comes with the rough pull of your fingers and she's forced to hold herself up with her arms again—which she can barely do. "You're fucking dripping baby" You grunt, getting off on the sharp crack that booms each time your hips come in contact with her round ass. "Such a good slut... taking it so well for me"

"Please" She whines, and you're not entirely sure what she's begging for "Please"

"Please what princess?" You almost growl, feeling your abs begin to burn.

She swallows thickly, moaning like she can't control herself. "f-f-fill me up.. I fucking—God—I fucking need it"

It's coming, you can feel it in your balls. Her cunt is gripping you so perfectly, so smooth and slick that every drag has your jaw clenching and your mind going blank. You're so unbelievably close to stuffing her full of it--it's the only thing you can think about right now. "Yeah... Belle, gonna fucking... cum in you" Your breaths are labored now because the force you're fucking her with is tiring you out.

"God I'm gonna fucking-" Belle squeals, then a rush of clear liquid begins to spill out from between her legs and her mouth hangs open. The pressure almost kills you right then and there but you keep moving, you can't get enough of her. Even when another—more powerful—burst comes out you only grunt as it runs down her legs and stains the sheets.

"Ah...look at you—squirting for me" You'd chuckle if you weren't so close right now. You end up slowing it down, thrusting hard and deep into her cunt slowly. One. Belle shrieks. Two. She moans deeply. Three. She bites her lip. Then four and your cock is pulsing and throbbing wildly inside of her the second you bury it inside of her on the fourth thrust. You moan loudly as you fill her needy cunt with your seed. There's so much that it's dripping down the side.

You can only sigh the little bit of breath you have left as it continues, your voice too broken and fucked up to do anything more. She only hums sweetly, giggling as you let go of your grip on her hair and your body collapses onto hers so you lay flat on the bed.

"Holy shit" You swallow, then you gather up the strength to sit yourself up and you put your hand on her now red ass, rubbing the cheek as you catch your breath. "Good girl" Then you remember that you should probably pull her out of her hypnotized state. "Sit up and close your eyes" You breathe. It takes her a moment, you watch as she sort of struggles to do as you say but eventually she does. "At the snap of my fingers, you will wake up"

You snap your fingers and her eyes open "Oh my God" is the only thing that comes out of her mouth. Her expression is unreadable and you're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing for a second. Then Belle smiles and she climbs on top of you. You're surprised, but you allow it because the second she leans in to kiss you it just feels right. She pulls away "What the fuck? That was so hot" It's like she herself is surprised that it worked too.

"You remember?" You ask, knowing that sometimes people lose memory after they've been hypnotized, but it seems like Belle didn't.

Belle nods her head "Every second" Then she kisses you again "Especially when you fucked my tits, you could've told me you were into that" she teases, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth.

"I know you, you would've laughed at me"

"But I still would've let you do it" She nods

You tilt your head playfully doubting her words "Sure" Is all you say before she pushes you back so that you're laying down.

"Shut up" She mutters before putting her lips on yours again and you're both smiling into the passionate kiss, feeling that familiar fluttering feeling in your stomach. "Thank you for trying this out with me" She seems genuine about it.

You shake your head "I'll try any kinky shit you throw at me"

and there's no doubt you would

#Kiss of Life #Kiof belle #Kiss of Life Belle #Belle #kpop gg #kpop idol #smut #male reader #belle x male reader #hypnosis #hypno fantasy #hypno k1nk #mind control

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lyn31 · 2 months ago

Note

YOUR ZAYNE'S FIC ARE SOOO GOOOOOD. You cook so well😩. Now pretty please write MC in labor😩

I got carried away again as always..... but I like how it turn out! All this make me want to write about Zayne as dad now...... damn you guys! (read: Thank you) 🫶🏻😩

Oh and hopefully this is what you're thinking of! ✨🥹

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Labor

Summary

A quiet hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of a monitor, and a steady hand in yours. The tension lingers in the air—uncertainty, hope, fear—all colliding in the seconds before fate takes its course. And then, with a single breath, everything shifts.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader I'm no way near know what labor feel like, so I try my best!

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The hospital room is quiet, save for the steady beeping of the monitors and the occasional distant chatter from the hallway. The dim lighting casts everything in a soft glow, making the space feel cozier than it should—even with the sterile white walls and medical equipment surrounding you.

Zayne sits beside your bed, his ever-present clipboard in hand, reviewing something with a look of calm focus. He’s been like this for the past hour—checking notes, double-checking them, then checking them again, as if he personally intended to oversee every detail of your care.

You watch him for a moment before finally breaking the silence. “You know, for someone who isn’t my actual doctor, you sure look like one.”

His gaze lifts from the clipboard, cool and composed as ever. “I am a doctor.”

You snort. “Yeah, but not mine. You’re off-duty, remember?”

Zayne tilts his head slightly, a thoughtful hum leaving his lips before he counters smoothly, “Not yours?” He leans forward, resting an elbow on the bed as his cool fingers brush over your knuckles. “I seem to recall you calling me yours quite often.”

You narrow your eyes, catching the deliberate way he twists your words. “Oh, so we’re doing this now?”

His thumb brushes along your hand, his expression composed but undeniably pleased. “Doing what?”

You let out an amused huff. “Never mind.”

He doesn’t push, just holds your hand a little firmer, his touch steady. “Either way, I have no intention of being off-duty when it comes to you.”

You roll your eyes, squeezing his hand. “Wow, so controlling.”

His brow lifts. “I prefer ‘thorough.’”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “Right, right. Thorough.”

There’s a beat of silence, a comfortable one, before Zayne shifts slightly, his eyes dropping to your belly. He’s been doing that a lot—watching, his expression unreadable but his touch careful every time he rests a hand there.

You follow his gaze, smiling softly. “Getting impatient?”

His thumb brushes against your skin absently. “I wouldn’t say impatient.” Then, after a pause, he adds, “Eager, perhaps.”

The honesty in his voice makes something in your chest tighten. You bite your lip, fighting back the sudden wave of emotion, and instead lean back against the pillows with an exaggerated sigh. “I swear, if this kid doesn’t come out soon, I’m charging rent.”

Zayne exhales a quiet chuckle, the sound low and warm. “They do seem rather content staying where they are.”

“You think they’ll be as stubborn as you?” you tease, tilting your head toward him.

His gaze flickers toward you, amused. “I was going to ask if you thought they’d be as stubborn as you.”

You grin. “So, we’re both in trouble, then.”

Zayne hums, his fingers tracing absent patterns over your skin. He doesn’t say it, but you can see it in his eyes—the quiet anticipation, the depth of feeling he doesn’t always put into words. You feel it, too, this strange, overwhelming mix of excitement and nerves, the knowledge that any moment now, everything will change.

And then, as if on cue, there’s a sudden shift in your body—a pressure, a faint discomfort that makes your breath hitch.

You blink, startled.

Zayne immediately picks up on it. “What is it?”

You hesitate, then laugh lightly. “I think… my water just broke.”

His posture straightens in an instant, that calm, practiced focus settling over him. But you don’t miss the way his fingers tighten slightly around yours, or the flicker of something—something almost like nerves—that flashes through his expression before he reins it in.

“Well.” You exhale, shifting carefully. “Guess they finally decided to stop freeloading.”

Zayne’s lips press together in what might be a smile, but his gaze is already sharp, assessing. He reaches for the call button with his free hand. “Let’s not keep them waiting, then.”

The contractions start soon after, steadily intensifying with each passing minute. Nurses move in and out of the room, checking your vitals, monitoring the baby’s heart rate, and preparing everything for delivery. The air shifts—calm, but purposeful.

Zayne never leaves your side.

He holds your hand, his grip firm but careful, his other hand occasionally brushing over your forehead, pushing damp strands of hair back with cool fingertips. Every now and then, you hear the soft murmur of his voice—low, steady words of reassurance, though you barely process them between each wave of pain.

You squeeze his hand through another contraction, breathing through it as best as you can. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t complain, just lets you cling to him as tightly as you need.

When the pain eases slightly, you slump back against the pillows, exhaling a heavy breath. “You know, I’m starting to think we should’ve made a scheduled exit plan for this kid.”

Zayne huffs a quiet chuckle, though his eyes remain sharp, watchful. “That would’ve been ideal, yes.” His fingers smooth over your knuckles. “Unfortunately, they seem to have other plans.”

You groan. “Stubborn already.”

His lips twitch slightly. “Wonder where they get that from.”

You roll your eyes but don’t have the energy to fire back. Another contraction rolls through, sharper this time, stealing your breath. Your fingers tighten around his instinctively.

Your muscles seize, the pressure mounting unbearably. Each breath feels like dragging air through fire, your body fighting against itself in the desperate push forward. The contractions are relentless, but there’s no telling how much time has passed between them anymore. Minutes? Hours? It all blurs together, an endless cycle of pain and fleeting relief.

You gasp through another one, clinging to Zayne’s hand as your head slumps back against the pillows. Your limbs feel heavy, the exhaustion sinking into your bones, deeper than any mission injury you’ve had. For a brief moment, it feels like too much—like you can’t do this, like your body is failing you.

Your breath stutters. “I—” The words don’t come. You shake your head instead, a flicker of panic rising beneath the fatigue.

Zayne catches it instantly. His grip shifts, firm and grounding, his cool fingertips brushing against the back of your hand. “Breathe,” he murmurs, his voice steady, unwavering. He lifts your hand slightly, pressing his lips against your knuckles—a fleeting touch, but the warmth lingers. “You’re doing well.”

You force yourself to take a breath, then another. The haze doesn’t clear completely, but the panic eases—just a little.

You shake your head, barely able to get the words out. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” His grip tightens just enough to remind you he’s there, solid and unwavering. “One breath at a time.”

The room is a blur—rushed voices, the steady beep of monitors, the sharp scent of antiseptic and sweat. You can hear the doctor saying something, the nurses murmuring encouragement, but it’s all distant, muffled under the sheer weight of everything happening to you.

And then—another contraction crashes into you, sharp and all-consuming. You barely register the way your body tightens in response, instinct taking over as the doctor’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Almost there.” he says, quiet but firm. “Just a little more.”

Zayne’s hand never leaves yours. His voice, cool and certain, is the only thing anchoring you as the final stretch begins.

You don’t know if it’s minutes or seconds, but when the next contraction comes, your body takes over. You push—every muscle screaming, every fiber of your being focused on this one thing.

And then—weightless relief.

A newborn’s cry pierces the room.

Everything that just happened crashes into you all at once. The pain, the exhaustion, the overwhelming sense of finally. You let out a shaky breath, your body trembling with the aftershocks, your vision swimming with unshed tears.

Zayne exhales slowly beside you, and when you turn your head, he’s already looking at you. His eyes are unreadable for a moment, as if even he needs a second to process that it’s over. Then, something shifts—something so quiet, so deeply felt that words aren’t needed.

His fingers brush your temple, the touch featherlight, reverent. Then you hear it again—the cry, small but strong.

The sound nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. A choked, startled sob bubbles in your throat before you can stop it, your body sagging against the bed. You barely register the movement around you—nurses bustling, hands moving quickly, a soft, wriggling weight being placed onto your chest.

Tiny. Warm. Yours.

Your hands tremble as you touch her, brushing over impossibly soft skin, feeling the rise and fall of her first breaths. Her cries settle slightly as she squirms against you, as if already seeking the comfort of your presence.

Zayne doesn’t say anything.

You turn your head toward him, and for the first time since this all started, you see something unguarded in his expression. He’s staring, utterly still, his gaze fixed on the baby in your arms like he’s trying to memorize every inch of her. For someone always so controlled, so certain, there’s a flicker of something else. Like he’s seeing something impossible. Something fragile and new, and undeniably real.

His fingers hover for a second, hesitation creeping into his movements that are usually precise. Then, finally, he lets them brush over the delicate curve of her head. The warmth is unfamiliar, delicate, alive in a way that almost doesn’t feel real.

The moment his fingertips graze her skin, his breath catches—so slight it’s almost imperceptible. Then, as if remembering himself, he exhales slowly, his touch impossibly gentle. The baby shifts under his fingers, a tiny movement—barely anything at all. And yet, something in his expression tightens, a flicker of something deep and unreadable settling in his gaze.

For once, there’s an almost imperceptible delay in his movements, as if he’s afraid the smallest touch might shatter the moment.

It’s quiet between you, even as the room hums with movement. The weight of everything lingers, exhaustion, awe—something too deep to put into words.

Zayne leans in slightly, pressing a cool, lingering kiss to your temple.

“Thank you.”

It’s barely a whisper, yet it carries more weight than any grand declaration ever could.

The relief washes over you, but it’s tinged with something strange—a lightness in your limbs that doesn’t quite feel right. You blink, trying to shake it off, but the room swims slightly at the edges.

You turn toward him just as another wave of lightheadedness washes over you.

It’s subtle at first, a sudden wave of dizziness, sharp enough to make your grip falter, but then your vision blurs slightly at the edges. Your grip on the baby weakens for just a second—not enough to be dangerous, but Zayne notices immediately.

Immediately, his head lifts. His gaze sharpens. “What is it?”

You swallow, blinking hard. “I—” Your tongue feels thick and sluggish, like your body is struggling to keep up. “Feel weird.”

His hand is already at your wrist, checking your pulse. A second later, he glances at the monitors, his expression hardening almost imperceptibly.

“Get a blood pressure reading,” he orders, his voice cool, controlled.

A nurse moves quickly, wrapping the cuff around your arm. The numbers flash across the screen—too low.

Her expression shifts. “Her pressure is dropping.”

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. “Call the attending. Now.”

The room shifts instantly. Nurses move in taking your daughter away, adjusting IVs, lifting your hospital gown to check the monitors. Words blur together—blood pressure instability, excessive bleeding, immediate intervention.

Then—cool fingers brush your cheek.

“Stay awake.”

Zayne’s voice. Steady. Firm.

You blink up at him, trying to ground yourself. “M’not going anywhere,” you mutter, attempting a smirk. It’s weak.

His fingers linger for half a second before he pulls back. His gaze flickers toward the attending nurse as she steps in, then back to you. “It’ll be alright.”

It’s not a reassurance. It’s a certainty.

The attending doctor barely spares him a glance before issuing instructions. “We need to stabilize her before we proceed. Doctor Li, I need you to step out.”

You feel him stiffen beside you.

His grip on your hand doesn’t tighten, but you feel the hesitation, the way he lingers for just a second too long, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then, slowly, he exhales, his grip loosening like letting go is a battle within itself. He nods.

His fingers brush over your wrist one last time before he pulls away.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmurs.

And then, for the first time since this all started—he’s gone. The space he leaves behind is too cold, too empty.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hallway is quiet. Too quiet.

Zayne stands just outside the door, his hands clasped behind his back, shoulders squared in that composed, unshakable way that gives nothing away. From a distance, he looks like a man simply waiting—patient, motionless, his breathing even. But up close, the cracks are there.

His grip is tight—so tight his knuckles press white against his skin. His shoulders don’t relax, don’t shift, as if held in place by sheer force of will. And then, after a long moment, his fingers uncurl, his hands drop to his sides. He exhales slowly through his nose, a measured breath that does nothing to ease the tension gripping him.

Still, the tension lingers, wound tight in his chest. And then—without thinking—he moves.

His back touches the wall first, cool against the tension coiled in his muscles. Then he lowers himself into a crouch, forearms resting loosely over his knees. He doesn’t bow his head—doesn’t close his eyes. He just waits, eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, unmoving.

Minutes stretch. Nurses pass by, but no one stops him.

Eventually, a different nurse approaches, speaking in a quieter voice, like she knows she’s interrupting something unspoken.

"Dr. Li, your daughter has been moved to the nursery," she informs him. "She’s doing well. She responds quickly, no signs of distress—breathing is steady, vitals are stable."

Zayne listens, absorbing each detail without a single wasted motion.

"Is she warm enough?" His voice is steady, measured. A doctor’s question—but something else lingers beneath it, quieter. Something almost hesitant.

"Yes," the nurse assures. "She’s in an incubator for now, just for monitoring, but everything looks good."

He nods. "And her blood oxygen levels?"

"Normalizing well."

Another nod. His expression doesn’t change, but his fingers twitch slightly against his knee. He exhales through his nose—measured, controlled. He has his answers. His daughter is being taken care of.

Still, he doesn’t move.

The nurse hesitates, then glances toward the closed door beside him. "Your wife should be waking up soon."

He knows. That’s why he’s still here.

The nurse doesn’t press further. She just offers a polite nod before walking off, leaving him alone in the hallway once more.

And when the door finally opens, when a different nurse steps out and says, "Doctor Li?"—he’s already standing before she finishes his name, walking inside the room.

The door clicks shut behind him, but he doesn’t move right away.

For a moment—just a moment—he stands there, gaze settling on you. A flicker of something crosses his face—not relief, not entirely. His fingers twitch, just slightly.

You’re propped up against the pillows, the soft glow of the monitors casting shadows across your face. There’s exhaustion written in every inch of you, but your eyes are open, meeting his—awake, breathing. Present.

His shoulders shift, a tension he’s been holding finally loosening—just slightly.

Then, slowly, he exhales, a quiet breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Only then does he step forward.

He moves to touch you, then hesitates—just for a second. His gaze lingers, tracing the IV line, the faint tremor in your fingers where they rest against the sheets. When he does touch you, it’s careful, as if making sure you won’t disappear beneath his fingertips. His thumb presses slightly against your wrist—a quiet reassurance. A confirmation.

"You were waiting," you murmur, voice hoarse, the words threading through the rawness in your throat. You shift slightly—just enough for the sheets to rustle—but even that small movement leaves you breathless for a second. His fingers shift slightly against your wrist, like he notices.

His lips press together faintly—not quite a frown, but not neutral either. "Of course."

You huff a tired breath, tilting your head just a little. "And our daughter?"

"She's in the nursery," he answers immediately, his voice steady. "The nurses assured me she's stable—no complications."

A slow, relieved exhale leaves your lips.

Zayne watches you, his gaze flickering over every detail—the way your fingers twitch weakly against the blanket, how you start to lift your hand but let it fall back to the sheets, your breath just a fraction uneven. He knows you’re alright now, you’re awake. You’re here.

His hand moves, fingers trailing up until they settle against your cheek. His touch is cool, grounding, and when you lean into it—just barely—his thumb skims over your skin in a slow, absent motion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake slowly, warmth pressing against your side, the rhythmic sound of beeping monitors lulling you into awareness. It takes a second to register everything—the hospital room, the soft weight of blankets over you, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

Your body feels different than before—less exhausted, though a dull soreness still lingers, like a distant ache instead of the overwhelming fatigue from the first day. Manageable. Easier.

And then, you hear it.

A quiet, steady voice murmurs something too soft to make out.

You blink your eyes open, the room still dimmed by the evening light filtering through the blinds. And there, sitting beside the hospital bed, is Zayne.

He leans forward slightly, adjusting the tiny bundle in his arms—your daughter, cradled carefully in his hands. His voice is quiet, patient, as if he’s explaining something to her, even though she’s far too small to understand.

You don’t move at first, just watching. It’s rare to catch him like this—settled, no longer on edge, his focus entirely on her. His usually sharp gaze softens, tracing over every tiny feature as if memorizing her all over again.

You don’t know why you expected him to overthink this. The man analyzes data for a living, after all. But somehow, fatherhood has come to him as naturally as breathing—each movement careful but sure, each touch precise yet gentle. No hesitation, no uncertainty, just a calm, measured certainty in every move he makes. And yet, it’s not clinical. There’s something soft in the way he holds her, something instinctive. Natural.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I’m not sure she’s ready to appreciate the commentary just yet.”

Zayne’s head lifts immediately, sharp instincts ever-present, but this time, he doesn’t tense. “You’re awake.”

“No, I’m talking in my sleep.”

His gaze flickers over your face, checking—because of course he is—but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he exhales, slow and quiet, before glancing back down at the baby. “She was fussing earlier.”

You shift, pushing yourself up slightly, but before you can get far, Zayne is already moving. One hand settles gently against your back, supporting you as he adjusts the pillows with practiced ease.

You give him a look. “You know, I did survive before you started micromanaging me.”

“And yet, here you are, letting me,” he murmurs, completely unbothered as he smooths the blanket over your legs.

You huff, but there’s no real bite behind it—because, well, he’s right.

His fingers brush over your wrist, lingering just long enough to check your temperature, before his gaze flickers to the baby. “You should feed her now.”

You glance at your daughter, her tiny fists barely peeking out from the blanket. “You’re giving her back just like that? Thought you’d keep hogging her.”

Zayne doesn’t react immediately, but the corner of his mouth twitches—slightly. “She does seem comfortable with me.”

“She’s a newborn, Zayne. She can’t even tell you apart from a blanket yet.”

He hums, clearly not convinced, but still, he shifts forward, carefully placing the baby in your arms. His movements are precise, ensuring she’s supported properly, as if she might shatter under anything less.

Once you’ve settled, he watches closely, like he’s analyzing every part of the process, committing it to memory.

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re going to supervise the entire thing, aren’t you?”

His gaze meets yours, unblinking. “Obviously.”

A laugh bubbles up before you can stop it, tired but genuine. “You really are fussing.”

Zayne doesn’t deny it. Instead, he reaches over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with precise care. “You just woke up. Someone has to.”

And, well—he’s got you there.

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Notes:

Zayne as Dad is live rent free in my head now...... also I watch one of those video where everyone is literally fussing the baby and the dad is just waiting outside of the mom's room, like "why is my wife not out yet" it was so cute 🥹 so ofc I have to use it as well 🫶🏻😩 Not connected and more like a snippet (smut) but still on pregnancy theme!

You're reading the Pregnancy series! You're at Part 5

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (Smut at the end)

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

362 notes · View notes

gf2bellamy · 3 months ago

Note

hello again <333 i loved what you did with my other request btw

i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader is late night baker. so spencer comes home near like 2am expecting reader to be asleep but instead finds them goofing off in the kitchen while waiting for their bake goods to be done?

- 🦔

cookies — spencer reid

pairing: sencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing i think a/n: hi hi 🦔 !! i'm glad you liked the other one <333 hope you like this too :) ( i'm craving cookies now )

Spencer opened the door as quietly as possible, careful not to let it creak. After all, it was nearly 2 AM, and the last thing he wanted was to wake you. But before he could even set his bag down, he heard a sudden clatter from the kitchen.

His brows furrowed. That wasn’t the sound of someone asleep.

He hesitated for only a second before shutting the door behind him, placing his bag on the ground, and slipping off his shoes. As he hung up his jacket, more noises drifted through the apartment.

Spencer slowly stepped closer, rounding the corner to the kitchen. The sight that greeted him made him pause.

You were sitting on the counter, legs swinging absentmindedly, a book open in your lap. The kitchen was a disaster—flour dusted the countertops, sugar spilled in little trails, and an open bag of chocolate chips was dangerously close to tipping over.

Spencer’s lips twitched. “Should I be concerned?”

You tossed your book onto the counter, grinning as he stepped closer. He chuckled, settling between your legs and resting his hands on your thighs as he glanced at the oven. Through the glass, golden cookies were baking, chocolate still glistening from the heat.

“Cookies?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice.

You hummed in confirmation, looping your arms around his neck. “Midnight cookies.”

Spencer tilted his head. “It’s 2 AM.”

“Fine, late-night cookies,” you corrected. “I got bored.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, his thumbs brushing against your skin. “So your solution to boredom was turning the kitchen into a crime scene?”

You scoffed. “First of all, rude. Second, it’s controlled chaos.”

Spencer glanced at the counter. “That sugar bag is on the verge of death.”

“…semi-controlled.” You grabbed a spoon from beside you, holding it up to his lips. “Taste.”

He eyed it warily. “There’s raw egg in this, isn’t there?”

“You solve murders for a living, but this is where you draw the line?”

Spencer sighed but leaned forward, taking a small taste. The second it hit his tongue, his eyebrows lifted. “That’s… actually really good.”

You smirked. “Exactly.”

You reached up, brushing your thumb across his cheek, taking in the faint shadows under his eyes. “You must be exhausted.”

“I was,” he murmured. “But this is… nice.”

Your smile softened, and before you could stop yourself, you pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. “You should go to bed,” you murmured. “I’ll clean up and—”

Spencer shook his head. “Not tired anymore.”

You shot him a knowing look. “You’re lying.”

“I’m just delaying the inevitable,” he corrected, squeezing your thighs lightly. “Besides, if I go to bed now, I won’t get to steal a fresh cookie.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s your priority right now?”

He nodded solemnly. “Absolutely.”

Before you could respond, the oven timer beeped, breaking the moment.

Spencer stepped back as you hopped off the counter, grabbing an oven mitt and carefully pulling the tray out. The cookies were golden brown, the chocolate still slightly melted. The smell alone was enough to make Spencer’s exhaustion momentarily fade.

You pointedly ignored his comment, instead breaking a cookie in half and blowing on it dramatically. You then held it up to his lips. “Here.”

Spencer leaned in, taking a bite. The warmth of the cookie combined with the rich chocolate made a pleased hum escape his throat. “Okay,” he admitted, chewing thoughtfully. “This was worth you staying up.”

You beamed. “Told you.”

Spencer reached for the other half of the cookie in your hand, but before he could grab it, you popped it into your mouth, grinning mischievously.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but the fondness in his voice betrayed him.

You giggled, grabbing another cookie and pressing it into his hands. “You deserve a whole one, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer shook his head, laughing softly as he took a bite. He hadn’t planned on staying up much longer, but if late-night baking sessions with you meant stolen bites of cookies and laughter in the kitchen, maybe sleep could wait just a little while longer.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #🦔 anon

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mixolya · 13 days ago

Note

heyy! don’t know if you write for yukimiya, if you don’t it’s completely fine, but could i maybe ask for yukimiya, alongside sae, and otoya (including anyone else you want if you feel up to it!) when reader is on their period? Idk if this is an uncomfortable topic and i geniunely apologize if it is. you can ignore this! thanks so much anyway, i wish the best for you ^^

ᓚᘏᗢ — blue lock: when it hurts, they stay !

synopsis: period pains were never fun, but being taken care of by boys who loved you made it just a little easier to breathe.

yukimiya kenyu, sae itoshi, otoya eita x reader (separate) ⭑ fluff / comfort + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: hi!! thank you sm for your request and it isn't an uncomfortable topic for me dw <3 i hopeee this is good enough hahaha i never wrote for yukimiya & otoya BUTTT i tried

— yukimiya kenyu

it started with a text.

y/n 🩷: i want to rip my uterus out 😃

thirty minutes later, a knock echoed at your door, and there stood yukimiya, hair still slightly mussed from morning training, wearing his favorite beige coat and holding a tote bag full of survival supplies like he was on a mission.

"emergency delivery," he said softly, offering you a gentle smile that was tinged with concern.

you opened the door wider, wincing as another cramp rolled through your stomach. "i didn't mean for you to actually come..."

"i know," he murmured, stepping inside anyway. "but you sounded like you needed someone."

he moved with quiet care, setting down everything he brought. ginger tea. painkillers. a soft pair of fuzzy socks, pink with little white hearts. your favorite chocolate. a heating pad. even a tiny stuffed bear wearing a sweater.

"is that banana bread?" you asked, blinking.

he looked sheepish. "i tried to bake. had a bit of help. but i stirred the batter."

your stomach twisted. not from the cramps but from the way your heart felt suddenly too full. you shuffled forward, leaned your head against his chest and let yourself breathe in the calm he always brought with him. he smelled like soft cologne and warmth.

"thank you," you whispered.

"always," he said, arms wrapping around you like he'd been waiting all day to do that. "now sit down. eat something. yell at me if you want."

you did all three.

and he stayed, tucked you under his arms on the couch, listened as you complained about your uterus, your cravings, the universe. he didn't try to fix anything, just held you like it was enough.

and it was.

— sae itoshi

sae didn't ask what was wrong, he just knew.

you came home grumpy, sluggish, arms wrapped protectively around your stomach as if that would lessen the betrayal. you dropped your bag at the door, collapsed face-first into bed and groaned.

sae quietly closed his laptop. a moment later, you felt his hand on your back, rubbing slow, even circles through the blanket.

you peeked up, barely. "i'm dying."

"no," he said, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face. "you're bleeding. big difference."

you scowled. he almost smiled, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"do you want food?"

"..yes. and you. and the heating pad. and maybe death."

"i'll do three out of four."

he returned fifteen minutes later with warm food, a heating pad and your comfort show already playing. you blinked at him in disbelief.

"i thought you hated this show."

"i do," he said, sliding into bed beside you. "but i love you."

you curled into his side, clutching at the hoodie he was wearing (which was technically yours) and blinked hard against the sudden sting in your eyes.

later, as the world faded around you and sleep crept in, you heard him whisper against your hair, "if i could take the pain for you, i would."

he didn't expect a response, but your fingers squeezed his just a little tighter.

— otoya eita

otoya knew something was off the moment your text came in.

y/n 💫: my body is actively trying to kill me y/n 💫: if i go missing, avenge me

he did not reply. wow, rude!!

instead, twenty-five minutes later, your doorbell rang, and when you opened it, he stood there with a smug grin, a bag of takeout in one hand and a heat patch in the other.

"your knight in shining hoodie has arrived," he said, cocking a brow. "or should i say, knight in emotional support and grilled cheese?"

you blinked, still in your pajamas, clutching a pillow to your chest. "you didn't have to-"

"i wanted to," he cut in, stepping inside like he'd done it a thousand times. "also, you get super cute when you're in pain."

you glared at him.

he winked.

but behind the teasing, his eyes were careful, watching you, checking how you walked slightly slower, hunched over. he set everything down, then gently tugged you toward the couch.

"lay down. i'll warm the heating pad and feed you like royalty."

"are you always this dramatic?"

"when it's you?" he grinned. "yeah."

he made good on his word, adjusting the heating pad to your lower back, tucking the blanket around your legs with surprising tenderness and handing you a grilled cheese like ht was some divine offering.

"see?" he said, sitting beside you and resting his arm across the back of the couch. "being babied by me isn't so bad."

"you're so annoying," you mumbled, taking a bite.

"and yet, you texted me instead of dying alone."

you rolled your eyes. but when a particularly sharp cramp made you shift and whimper, otoya's teasing faded.

"hey," he said, voice softer now. "you okay?"

you nodded.

he didn't say anything for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your temple.

“if i could punch your uterus, i would.”

that made you laugh. and it made something ache in your chest too.

because beneath the jokes and flirty smiles, otoya eita always showed up when it mattered.

and when your head dropped onto his shoulder not long after, he didn’t move. just let you stay there, humming a soft tune under his breath while his fingers threaded through your hair.

#mixolya!#itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae imagines #itoshi sae fluff #bllk imagines #sae itoshi imagines #bllk x reader #sae itoshi fluff #yukimiya kenyu x reader #yukimiya kenyu imagines #yukimiya kenyu fluff #otoya eita x reader #otoya eita imagines #otoya eita fluff

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heyimkana · 14 days ago

Text

Pillow Talk (3/4)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | AO3 Link

Sequel to Come Home to Me but can be read separately.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut

Summary: As the hours grow late, your kisses turn deeper, his touches grow more obscene, and by the end of it, his patience snaps and it's about time for you to start a new game.

Content Warnings: face-sitting, constant flirting, endless banter

Word Count: 8K

But… A filthy thought resurfaces, tugging on the corner of his lips. A little poke can’t hurt.

“Jinwoo?” You raise a brow, confused as to why your husband suddenly turns quiet. “Are you all right?”

He smiles saccharine sweet—a mask he uses to cover his devilish grin. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had some… thoughts in my mind.”

“Thoughts? What thoughts?”

“About our baby,” he answers so effortlessly, leaving it impossible for you to discern through his lies. “I haven’t talked to them today. Would you mind if I say hi real quick?”

The sudden change in his actions confounds you. You really thought your little act of submission earlier was enough to snap the rope that held him together.

Sensing your hesitance, Jinwoo pushes a lock of stray strands behind your ear. “Will you lie down for me, Angel? Please?” His touch, his voice, his gaze—everything is so tender, it almost washes away all of your suspicions. Almost.

Huh… Your tongue prods your cheek. Guess he has more self-control than I thought. “Sure. They won’t be able to hear you now, though. Not until I’m in my second trimester, at least.”

“It’s all right. I just want to be close to my baby. Both of my babies,” he teases, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he obviously refers to you as the second, much needier one.

“Cheesy,” you mutter, showcasing a revolted look despite finding hilarity in it. Who thought the sixth national-level hunter, Sung Jinwoo, could act this way behind closed doors? Still, with your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, you comply and lift yourself off his lap. You swear you caught a slight hint of mischief fleeting across his face just now, but…

“What?” He blinks, feigning innocence. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Why won’t he just kiss me? Like, actually kiss me? This has been going on forever, hasn’t it?! You wonder, biting back the frustrated sigh before it tumbles off your lips.

The bed creaks slightly beneath you as you glue your spine to the sheets, watching the ceiling above you with a frown, still trying to figure out why your plan of luring him didn't work before. Have you lost your touch? Your sensuality? Perhaps you should’ve gone all out, just directly seduce him until he caves into his desire—to yours. But that would make you sound desperate, no?

Submerged in your own thoughts, you fail to notice the fiendish grin embellishing your husband’s face. “Don’t pout, Sweetheart,” he says, recapturing your attention. “I’ll be right back with you in a second.”

“I wasn’t pouting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he playfully scoffs, his retort carrying a spark of deja vu.

Jinwoo starts his little game, traversing his way down your body, his smile, tinged with a hint of impishness, stays everlasting on his face. He leaves a trail of fireworks as he maps the valley between your breasts with his mouth, reaching every inch of skin that’s not covered by satin. “Your skin is so soft…” Though he aims to keep it innocent, his tongue peeks out from between thin, rosy lips, tasting your skin fleetingly as if his self-control slipped its leash for a moment.

He feels your body stiffening at the sensation. “Seems like someone’s a little sensitive tonight,” Jinwoo chuckles, pushing up your gown until it pools just below your breasts, leaving your stomach exposed for his breath to caress. “Kind of reminds me of the way you act during our wedding night. You were so cute, then.” His fingertips feel featherlight on your skin as both desire and adoration pervade his gaze. “Of course, you’re adorable now, too. You always are. But the way you squirmed underneath me that night… The way you gasped and moaned even from the slightest touch… Mmm,” he applies another slow, erotic, open-mouth kiss below your navel, his tongue swirling across the skin. “You were so, so fucking cute, baby.”

The stimulation zings through your entire body, almost robbing a yearning moan out of you. “S-shut up.” A bashful retort is all you can manage as you cast your face to the side, avoiding his gaze. Even the devil himself has never looked as sultry as he was before. “It’s just… It’s been a while.”

He loves it, loves the way you easily get flustered from his lines. “Since what, exactly?”

“You know what.”

“Sweetheart,” he laughs softly at your obliviousness. “I’m giving you a chance to talk dirty to me. Make use of it.”

“I—” you sputter, face aflame. “Y-you know I can’t. It’s embarrassing. Besides, you’re…” You turn mute, stopping a second too late.

“I’m much better at it than you are?” He continues your sentence with a smirk, the silky swirl of his tongue in the hollow of your navel sends fire licking through your veins. You make the mistake of looking down, catching the way his tongue darts out so obscenely to taste your skin. His eyes fixate on yours, as hazy as your own, filled with the carnality he tries to repress. Your stomach flutters in sensation, wanting more, so much more.

Noticing your stare, he makes a show of it, moaning softly against your skin as he bestows more wet, slow kisses on your lower abdomen, catching flesh between his teeth, and teasing it until a mark blooms. You chew on your lip, your fingers twisting against the sheets. God, I want your mouth on me, you almost plead out loud.

“You’re losing your words, Angel,” he reminds you with a puckish smile, snapping you out of your daze.

“I thought you were gonna speak to our baby,” you glower.

“I am going to. I just wanna play with the bigger baby for a bit before I go to the little one.”

“Get to it.”

His grin grows wider. “Why, afraid you’re gonna start begging if I continue?”

“Get. to. it.”

He chortles softly. Just how adorable can she be, he wonders as he stands on his knees before you. “Open your legs for me, Angel.” When you grow hesitant over his request, Jinwoo playfully rolls his eyes. “I won’t do anything, I promise. I just want to get comfortable. Besides” —he rests his hand on your thigh, teasing you by rubbing circular motions with his thumb—“It’s not like you haven’t spread your legs for me before.”

“God, you’re so—” You sigh in defeat. This is starting to get embarrassing. With a slight sulk on your face, you slowly part open your thighs, watching the way his smirk vanishes little by little as he takes in the view. The way you spread them so slowly as your embarrassment sinks in, the delicate lace of your lingerie, and how it sticks so perfectly to your heat like a second skin, they barely leave any room for his imagination to wander…

You clasp your thighs together again, squeezing them shut as your eyes turn into slits. “Focus,” you chastise him, despite being flustered yourself.

“I am.”

“I mean, on the baby!”

Your husband kisses your knee with an amused grin before he pries your legs apart and settles himself in between. “Right, the other baby,” he chuckles, making himself at home, his toned abdomen pressed flat against the bed as he strokes your stomach with a gentle hand.

As you are only in your seventh week of pregnancy, your belly hasn’t swollen much, the bump nearly nonexistent, especially when you lie down. If it weren’t for your never-ending fatigue and your morning sickness, perhaps you wouldn't have felt pregnant at all.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Jinwoo greets them with a tiny kiss on your skin. “It’s Daddy speaking.” He splays out his hand over your stomach, smiling tenderly at the small yet growing baby bump. “I heard you’ve been a little too rough on Mommy today. Wanna tell me what’s that all about?”

He pauses for a second, humming lightly every now and then as if he’s responding to what the baby is saying. “I see. So, you don’t like the food, huh? But, you see, baby, your mommy is trying her best to give you all the nutrients you need. We want you to grow all healthy and strong, so can we cooperate for a bit? For Mommy’s sake? She’s been very nice, you know.”

His fingers continue to trace shapes on your skin, listening intently at the baby's ‘comeback’. “I know, darling, but you have to understand the pain she’s going through. You’re making her super nauseous and tired all the time, but she won’t even take anything for it ‘cause she doesn’t want her pills to harm you. She loves you so, so much, kiddo, just as much as I love you. So, if you could just tone down your little tantrum over there and let Mommy have some rest, Daddy promises he’ll do anything you want the second you’re out of your little nest.”

Jinwoo settles his lips on your skin, letting you feel the contour of his smile. Suddenly, he pulls away, making a face as his eyes flicker back to you. “Did you hear that? Our baby just said no. I’m afraid we got a little troublemaker in here, honey.”

You titter at his performance. “Oh, really? Another one?”

“Mm, just like Daddy,” he replies with a grin too sexy to be considered playful. Jinwoo drags his stare to your stomach once more, his voice laced with mirth as he speaks. “Listen, baby. I know it’s still too early for me to say this, but I want you to understand one thing. It’s Daddy’s job to drive Mommy insane, okay? Your job is to look cute and melt Mommy’s heart so she won’t stay mad at me for too long. We need to work as a team, you and me. So, from now on, no more giving Mommy a hard time, okay? Can you promise me that?”

His little theatrics are so convincing that you can practically hear your baby sprouting their lines back to him. “Good,” Jinwoo utters in satisfaction at their imaginary response. “You’re making Daddy feel so happy right now, baby. I hope you know that your mom and I are so excited to have you. We’re going to spoil you rotten, you know that? We’re gonna take care of you and make sure you’re always safe and loved. It’s still gonna be a while until I can hold you in my arms, but I’ll be counting the days until then. Daddy can’t wait to meet you, Sweetheart.”

With sweet affection residing in his gaze, Jinwoo lays his head down on your stomach, rising and falling slightly with every breath you take. “I think they like me,” he says after listening for a while, followed by an elated sigh.

“I think that's just the sound of my guts contracting, but okay.” You ruffle his hair, your smile a mix of glee and adoration. “I’m sure they do, honey. They will love you so much and—What are you doing?!” Your voice turns a pitch higher when he suddenly drags his head south, his mouth leaving a string of wet, sensual kisses down your pelvis.

“Nothing,” he murmurs seductively against your skin, his lashes fluttering against his cheekbone as he toys with his favorite doll. “Just showing my baby some love.”

Which baby?! With shivers born out of every kiss, you find your legs squeezing around him, your fingers gripping the linen beneath you as your anticipation grows. He’s so close to where you want him, yet never close enough. Every time you feel like he's about to taste you where you ache for him the most, Jinwoo moves away, purposefully pushing you to your limit. What was it that he said before? That it was his job to drive you crazy?

“Your thigh’s trembling,” he comments with a hint of cockiness in his tone, pleased with the effects he has on you. “Cute,” he purrs out, diving his head low to suck on the inner side. Gliding his hand up your leg, he keeps your thigh pressed close to him as he grinds his teeth against the skin, teasing you without giving you a chance to escape. “Are you nervous, Sweetheart? Or maybe” —a deep, lewd moan vibrates on your skin as he sucks on your supple flesh, making sure to paint your thigh with his favorite color—“excited?”

You toss your head back, a whimper slipping out of you no matter how much you try to suppress it. It’s just a little love bite and yet...

Jinwoo chuckles. “Definitely excited.”

You want his mouth on you. God, it's insane how much you want it, but at the same time, you don't feel like you have the patience to wait anymore. You want to feel him, truly feel him, connected in every way possible, and you know he wants it, too.

“Jin…” You place one hand in his hair, grasping at his strands. Your intention is still unclear, uncertain whether you want to stop him or urge him to thrust his tongue inside. And should you even be this desperate for him? Fuck, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are needy.

Still with his head trapped between your thighs, Jinwoo circles his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand down to his face as your thoughts still wage war against one another. As he presses your hand against his cheek, your thumb accidentally brushes against the corner of his mouth. He parts his lips instinctively, his eyes clouded as he looks at you. With a gulp, you push your index and middle fingers inside his mouth, watching him take them all at once, his cheeks hollowing around your digits, enveloping them till his lips brush against your knuckles. Jinwoo keeps his eyes glued to yours; the intensity, the lust swirling inside is unmatched, electrifying you.

He closes his lids, sucking on your fingers like he’s made for it, groaning softly around them, low and sensual. He looks so submissive like this, a view that’s so rare, you almost feel like you should commemorate it somehow. The moment you slide them away, with his saliva dripping to his chin, Jinwoo dives his head back to your heat, closing his lips around your clit.

You shudder at the sensation, your legs clenching tightly around him. “Jinwoo—ngh—”

His breathing turns heavy. He only aimed to tease you before, but after catching a glimpse of how adorable and sensitive you look right now, he tosses his plans out the window. “Can I taste you?” he whispers, his gaze almost pleading. Two of his long fingers rub against your folds, eager to spread them apart and fit his tongue in between. “I know you’re not feeling very well today, so I won’t do anything you’re not ready for, but I just… I want to take care of you.” There’s sincerity in his lustful stare, the loving side of him competing against the beast inside. “Let me take care of you. Please? It’s been so long…” It's almost a whimper that crosses past his mouth when he nuzzles his face against your thigh, mouthing his words against your skin. “I want to remember how sweet you are, Angel. Want you to come in my mouth. Will you let me?”

The filthy words ignite your desire the same way his tender tone soothes your heart. A quiet yes flows past your lips.

He presses a grateful smile against your thigh. “That’s my good girl.” His fingers begin to work on your panties, sliding them off your legs. “Just lie still for me, Sweetheart. Just relax, and…” His breath falls hot on your core, his eyes gleaming beneath the soft, golden light. Spreading your folds apart, Jinwoo opens his mouth and darts out his tongue. “Keep your eyes on me."

He pushes in without a second to waste, his tongue moving past your ring at once, tasting the sweetness of your core. Your hand returns to his hair as a startled gasp escapes you, tugging against the roots. This time, you don’t want him to stop. He can fuck you later; that can wait. Right now, all you need is to find your release, to come on his tongue the way he craves it.

“Mmph,” Jinwoo breathes out heavily through his nose, his eyes drooping in rapture the moment you start grinding on his face. He can sense your impatience, your need to take over control, to just use him as you please until you reach your ecstasy. And he knows exactly what to do for you to obtain it.

He breaks away from you, almost robbing a whine out of your lips from the short separation. To your surprise, your husband settles himself on the bed, rolling over to his back and taking your body with him. You land on his chest with a huff, his grip around your waist so possessively tight, his movements rushed as if he were on the brink of his sanity.

“Get up here,” he nearly growls, his own patience running thin. “On my face, Angel.”

“J-Jin—”

“Now.”

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, causing you to ignore all sense of shame. You crawl up his body, your hips guided dominantly by his hands. You don’t have enough time to memorize how perfect he looks underneath you—trapped between your thighs with his face flushed, his hair disheveled from your frantic hand, his lips red and inviting, glistening with your juice.

He hastily brings you down onto his face, his nails sinking into your thighs as you rub your soaking core on his tongue. “God, baby,” Jinwoo moans, the salacious sounds intermingling with yours in the air. “You're so wet. So sweet for me.” It almost sounds like he's been waiting for eternity to taste you, and honestly, to him, it does feel that way. He’s drowning in just as much pleasure as the one he gives you, just from being used by you.

He pushes your gown to your stomach, and you hold it there, clutched tight between your fingers that have grown white from how hard you clench them. You have a clear view of his face now, his lascivious expression, the way his gaze turns dark and clouded, asking you to give him more.

“Jinwoo—” You land one hand on the headboard for balance, fingers tightened into a fist. “I-I want to please you, too. Let me turn over and—”

“No,” he finds your clit, and he sucks hard, not letting you break even an inch away from him.

You almost topple over, your hand sliding down the headboard as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you. “Fuck,” you hiss out, your thighs trembling around him. “S-slow down—ngh—” You haven’t come yet, but you feel overstimulated from how hard and fervent he suckles on your bud. At this rate, you’re going to finish before you can even lay your hands on him. “Jin, please, let me suck you off, too—ah—”

Your husband stubbornly ignores your request, a low growl erupting from the back of his throat as you continue to squirm above him. He tightens his grip on you, sliding his tongue inside, thrusting deep as his nose rubs against your clit.

He parts away when you cry out pathetically, his nails raking down your thighs. “You’re going to stay right here, Angel, right on my face,” he says, his voice rough and demanding. “You’re going to ride me, make yourself feel good with my tongue, and you’re going to let me see your face when you come. That’s what I want you to do for me, Sweetheart, you understand?”

“Jin, I—”

“Answer me.”

Your breathing turns jagged, your jaw slackening on your face as you have no choice but to give him a shaky nod. “Yes…”

Satisfied with your response, he urges you to sway your hips again. His mouth feels beyond amazing, so warm and wet, and just so eager to please you. Jinwoo is right. It has been too long since you last did this, and it makes your orgasm build up frighteningly fast. Despite the urge that impels you to pick up your pace, you do the opposite, timidly rocking your hips against his face, afraid that you'll come so soon if you don’t—

But he's not having it.

“Use me,” his deep voice rumbles against your skin, his grip around your thigh bruising. “Fucking use me, baby, come on.”

It's threatening to come out, the feral beast inside of him. And he wants to take it slow for you to savor the moment, but he just needs you so terribly. He needs to have your taste in his mouth. He needs to see you come. He knows how desperately you want it.

Fuck. Fuck. You can feel abashed about it some other time. He wants to see you let loose, and you're just aching to let yourself go. You push the hem of your gown inside your mouth, seizing it between your teeth. With one hand still propped against the headboard and another one buried in his strands, you fully rest your weight on him, pressing yourself as close as possible to his mouth.

And you ride him. Hard and fast.

“Mmph—” Jinwoo grunts loudly as your fingers grab a handful of his hair, keeping him there, where he looks the prettiest with his face drenched in your essence. His gaze grows unfocused as he relishes the sweetness that oozes out of you, lapping on it fervidly as you continue to rub your clit back and forth, stopping only when he sucks on it. He doesn’t let the opportunity go to waste, suckling hard the way you like it until your toes curl in response.

“I’m—I’m close,” you warn him, no longer caring if your orgasm is coming in too fast. You can’t fight it back anymore. “Jin—”

Jinwoo responds with a moan, his eyes shut tight in rapture, eyebrows furrowing as he licks his way to your deepest part. His huge palms cup your behind, kneading your flesh and guiding you to rock your hips faster. Give it to me, Angel, he wants to say, but you’re not letting him do anything but stick out his tongue for you. He grants your wish as much as you’re granting his, breathing heavily through his nose, drunk from your taste.

Your orgasm hits you like waves crashing against rocks, so intense, it leaves you shaking from head to toe. Jinwoo tries to catch his own breathing, his hazy eyes taking in every detail of your face, memorizing every line and expression to recall later when he’s apart from you. You're pretty, so pretty. He wonders if you were made in heaven, designed by God himself to bless his eyes.

He lets you take as much time as you need to gather yourself, showering your thighs with idle kisses, his overwhelming lust reducing to sweet affection. His cock twitches painfully beneath his sweatpants, leaking and leaving a wet splotch on his underwear, yet he pays no heed to it, no matter how much it begs him to seek his own release.

He’s gotten what he wished for. He asked for a sliver of your taste, and you gave him an abundance of heaven bursting in his mouth. He's far from satisfied—he's insatiable, after all—but this is enough to soothe his yearning for you, at least for now.

You remove yourself from him, tossing yourself back to the bed, body drained, heart beating fast in the afterglow. Capturing his face with one hand, you meet his lips in a messy kiss, expressing your appreciation through searing passion. You’re still breathless, quivers residing in your fingertips as you taste yourself in his mouth, your kiss deep but far from consuming.

Jinwoo groans softly, cradling the back of your head as he licks his way inside your cavern, finding a different kind of sweetness that he pines for just the same. By the time he finds the strength to separate from you, lips swollen and glistening red, he rests his forehead against yours, trading small peals of laughter with you.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife,” he sighs, placing another kiss on your temple, his voice so raspy, it almost sounds like a purr. “Look at you looking so satisfied, all because of me.”

“All because of you,” you echo with an enervated smile. “That was… so intense…”

“Was there really any moment in our sex life that wasn’t intense?”

“True,” you titter, drowning too deeply in your bliss to care about the cockiness in his tone. “Oh, you still have a little…” You sweep your thumb across his glistening lips, wiping the rest of your… You can’t even finish your thought, sinking into an endless pit of shame for making a complete mess of his face. But of course, your husband doesn't mind. He welcomes the taste, grateful, even. He’d drink and lap every drop that seeps out of you had he been given the chance.

As if to prove his point, Jinwoo seizes your wrist before you can draw your hand away, pushing the same thumb that you used to clean off your essence into his mouth. He sucks on it, licking your digit clean, his eyes turning half-lidded, seeming almost drunkenly as he holds your stare. He’s so unbelievably, naturally, effortlessly sexy, he should’ve come with a warning.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out, dazed by how lewd he looks just now. “For, umm… You know.”

Jinwoo chuckles, gently pushing stray hairs away from your eyes. “Anytime, love. You were so tense at first; I was afraid I wasn't going to be enough for you.”

“You're always going to be enough for me. More than enough.” You brush your lips against his again, lighter, just another token of your gratitude. “It was just…” You can’t help but turn a little sheepish. “We hadn’t done that in a while, so… I think I got nervous.”

“I know. I’m sorry for not doing that sooner.” He tilts his head slightly to the side, painting kisses across the lines of your palm. “I thought about pleasuring you every day, but I didn’t want to get you all worked up when you were already so tired all the time.”

That's so like you to put my needs above everything else, you think to yourself, smiling fondly at him. “I’ll always have the energy when it comes to doing this with you, honey, you know that.”

“Not once I’m done with you,” he says, a glimmer of naughtiness returning to his eyes. “But, no, it’s not about you, baby. It’s about me. I’m too afraid that I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

You stroke his cheek, pouting slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you to hold back. And I never want you to.”

He releases a breath, heavy with desire. You’re unaware of how much your honesty affects him; how it peels the grip he constantly tightens around his restraint. “If I don’t do that, Sweetheart, you’re never leaving this bed.”

But that’s the kind of heaven you yearn for, isn’t it? To be loved every hour, held every minute, fucked deeply every second by a man whose vigor and beauty rival the Gods himself? You refrain from telling the truth, however, choosing to humor him instead. “Then the world will lose their hero.”

“That’s right,” he taps your nose, adoration in his eyes. You look so cute like this, so content and blissful with an air of playfulness in your breath. “So, you better not tempt me, Angel.”

“Hmm… Maybe I should.” You slide a hand up his chest, your tone inviting. “We’re not finished yet, are we? You haven’t come.”

He stops your teasing hand, keeping it still above his heart. It races with need beneath your palm, but he puts a cage over it. “I wasn’t planning to.” It’s a genuine confession, you can tell. “Like I said, I just wanted to taste you. Besides”—Jinwoo flaunts his smirk—“we should finish our last game before we start a new one. You haven’t answered my question, Sweetheart—any of them. I’m curious about you, too, you know. And you haven't been playing fair.”

You frown, so close to jutting out your lower lip in protest. “You still want to play that?” Desperately wanting him to give in, you crawl back on top of him, resting your palms on the bed with his head trapped in between. Your chest, adorned by your nightgown, hovers just a few inches away from his face, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. “You sure you don’t want to play a different game with me?”

Despite wanting to appear nonchalant, you catch him swallowing his breath at the sight of your breasts, his gaze darkening before he flicks his eyes back toward yours. “Being a bit bold tonight, aren’t you, Princess?” His hand skates up your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your gown. “And very naughty.” Your lover cups your behind with one hand, his fingers squeezing your bare skin, while the other begins its own journey to your chest. “Want me to take you right here?” He palms one of your breasts, kneading it firmly from over your gown. “Right now?”

Fuck, yes. “Mm, maybe,” you croon, wetting your lip.

“Don’t do that,” he warns. The sight of your tongue peeking out from between plush lips nearly pulls out a growl. “I’m already hanging on a thread as it is.”

Your eyes droop as your gaze descends to his lips. You bring your head low, your mouth a breath away from his. “I’m telling you to let go,” you murmur seductively, your lips ready to collide once more.

But Jinwoo, as stubborn as a mule, places a finger on them, stopping you just in time. “And I’m telling you to wait, Sweetheart,” he gently says, sitting on the bed while keeping you close. “It will be worth every second, I promise.”

Honest to God? You’re pissed off and you’re this close to throwing a tantrum like a child, but your annoying, utterly adamant husband merely laughs at the sight, his fingers poking into your cheeks as he grabs you cutely by the face. “Look, you’re pouting again. This is why I love it when you’re being needy. You always make this face and it’s just so”—he releases you just to plant a tantalizing kiss on your chin—“fucking”—his tongue now glides across your lip, an act so sinful, it steals your breath away—“cute.” Jinwoo kisses you, deep and rough, his lips devouring yours, moaning against your mouth as he does it.

You’re close to celebrating your victory of persuading him when he abruptly stops, breaking away and showcasing an innocent smile as if he didn’t just awaken all the butterflies in your stomach with that single kiss. “You look the prettiest when you cry, the cutest when you pout, and the sexiest when you're angry. Now you know why I can’t stop teasing you, don’t you, Angel? You're just so damn addicting.”

Not letting his words get to your head, you swat his hand away, glaring. “You’re postponing sex just because you want to see me pout?”

“Maybe.” He can't help the little grin that plays across his face, hearing your protest. “But also, you just came a minute ago. I don't want to—what’s the word—overstimulate you.”

“As if you haven’t done that before,” you snort, nearly forgetting your goal of getting him back to bed. You switch back quickly. You still have a little devil to seduce. “Which I love, obviously. And I can come again, you know.”

“Oh, I know you can,” he smirks, nothing but enticing. “I’ll make sure you do. But first, you need to answer my questions.”

“Oh my God, fine,” you groan loudly, tossing your head back in frustration. You stand on your knees on the bed, towering a few inches above him with his thighs caged in between them. “Can we, at least, do that while making out?” It’s pathetic that you ask that, but at this point, you’ll take even the little crumbs of his passion.

“You know I would, but clearly, someone can’t afford even the tiniest bit of distraction, so I think we should leave it right here. For now.” He fixes the strap of your gown with a bemused look on his face. “As much as I would love to make love to you right now, Sweetheart, let’s be patient.” He circles his arms around your waist, drawing you close enough until his breath caresses your chest as he speaks. He looks up, placing an idle kiss right above your heart. “You know how I am, don’t you? I love taking my time with you.”

“Saying that while you’re quite literally poking me with your dick is insane, actually.”

“And that”—he boops your nose, his grin cheeky—“is the other tiny distraction you need to ignore.”

“Yeah, it's definitely tiny. Your dick, that is.”

He rolls his eyes. “Mm-hmm, sure. Now, answer me. If you had to choose one of my features to keep, what would it be? My tiny dick is not an option.”

Perhaps it’s driven by the urgent desire to get this stupid game over with, or maybe it’s because your mind is still gyrating from how warm and amazing his mouth felt on you earlier—whatever it is, your answer slips out before you can put a filter on it. “Everything.”

Jinwoo stops for a bit, his eyes blinking in surprise at how easily and genuinely your reply topples out of your mouth. For a brief moment, you wonder if you should take it back to regain some of your dignity, but after what he’s done to you—for you—you figure he deserves every bit of your honesty. “E-Everything,” you repeat with heat creeping up your cheeks. “I love everything about you, so… I’d want to keep all of them.”

His gaze softens, his smile carrying a sliver of bashfulness that he rarely portrays. Though he’s overjoyed with your reply, he refuses to accept it as an answer. Despite his flirtatious tendencies, your husband remains a humble man, no matter how strong and how wealthy he’s become ever since he established his own guild. Narcissism has never been a part of him, especially when it comes to his looks. He has confidence in his body as he trains his muscles daily, but he feels average on everything else, and that’s why he treats the sweet confession of your affection as merely a compliment, but not the truth. “That’s not a fair answer, Sweetheart. Just one.”

As hard as it is to choose, the answer comes to mind within a heartbeat. “Your eyes.”

Jinwoo arches an eyebrow. “My eyes?”

“Mm,” you nod your head, slightly sheepish now that you need to elaborate further. The hand that you rest on his shoulder glides up to his neck, your fingers grazing against his undercut as you tilt his face backward, taking a clear look at the serene, pretty sapphires that have bewitched you from day one.

“I love how… intense they are, how expressive. They speak more than your words ever could. They’re haunting in the most beautiful way. So powerful that you can make any man cower under your gaze, even without a word. And I love how they turn soft and gentle whenever you look at our daughter. I love how…” You exhale, almost in reverence. Staring deeply into them like this, truly makes you feel grateful that you’re the only woman whose reflection is engraved in his eyes, whose name is etched in his chest. “I love how you make me feel so loved, so wanted, so adored, every time we lock gazes. And I love how they look when you… stare at me like this.”

His heart flutters as he hears you describe his eyes in such a way, never realizing just how much you’d paid attention to them. Hypnotized under your captivating stare, he utters a soft, “Like what..?”

Like you’re aching to take me, every part of me, claim it as yours and devour me until there’s nothing left of me to share with anyone else, but at the same time, to love me in the gentlest way. There's an equal balance of lust and affection in his gaze, the same amount of yearning and obsession. You're not sure how to convey that into words, so when you separate your lips, you say, “Like you… want me so terribly.”

He releases a faint, contented sigh, his eyes offering a new sense of tenderness as he looks at you. “You’re wrong.” Jinwoo tightens his arms around your waist, your body pressed flush against his. “I don’t want you, Sweetheart. I need you. I always do.” He adores the shyness that embellishes your face. “I didn't realize you love my eyes that much…”

You can tell how he, too, turns a little shy over it. Cute. Playing with the baby hairs on his nape, you tease him, “Well, don’t be too pleased about it. I don’t like them that much.”

“Oh? Then how much do you love them?”

“Like a normal amount,” you toss him a grin. “What about you, Husband? Which part of my features do you like the most?”

Jinwoo, so effortlessly, lifts your body and places you back on the bed, your hair strewn on the pillow as he hovers above you. “I love everything about you,” he confesses in a breathy whisper, just as sincere as the words you've spoken before. “I adore every part of you, even those that you try to hide, those that you think don’t deserve to be loved.”

His fingers trace the blemish on your face, the soft scars on your body that you’d gotten during your adventurous childhood days, the stretch marks on your stomach that never truly disappeared after your first pregnancy, and the little dark circles under your eyes from all the sleepless nights. Jinwoo adores all your imperfections, as they are still perfections in his eyes.

“But if I had to choose one, then I’d have to say…” His gaze cascades down your face, his thumb tracing over the shape of your mouth. “This.”

“My… mouth?” You reply a little hazily, your own stare falling to his lips. “Why…?”

“Because I love the way you kiss me,” he whispers, keeping his lips a hair’s breadth away from yours as he gathers what's left of his self-control to finish the rest of his answer. You can almost feel the shape of the words he speaks. “Your lips are a perfect fit against mine. I love how soft they feel, how sweet you taste. And they just look so beautiful, and so damn… kissable.” He bites his own lip, fighting the urge to claim yours. He doesn’t want to give in to temptation just yet. He wishes to douse the curiosity that brims in your eyes, even when your tongue is too shy to speak it.

“I love the way they move when you talk to me,” he continues in sotto voce, his thumb brushing the edge of your mouth. “I love how gorgeous they look when you smile.” Every cell of his body, similar to yours, begs him to bridge the distance. “And when you say my name… The way these pretty lips look when you say it… It drives me wild.” His hand suddenly roams up your thigh, his fingertips lightly brushing against your core, eliciting a startled gasp out of you. “And that—those cute little noises you make when I touch you. Those beautiful, sweet little sounds…” He sighs longingly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “God, I feel like I’m losing my mind whenever I’m with you.”

Six years. Six years you’ve been together, yet you still have these effects on him. And his effects on you are even worse.

You’ve forgotten how many times he’s lit your body on fire tonight, merely by his lines. But perhaps it’s not because of the words he speaks, it’s the never-ending desire that coats them. He makes you feel like you’re a prize to be won, a heaven’s gift that he still yearns for, no matter how often he’s tasted you.

“But beyond all that… What I love the most about your mouth is…” He brings himself to your ear, his voice deep and breathy. “What you can do with it.”

You shiver at the revelation, your heart beating in your throat. The way his lust drips thickly from each word…. He makes the line sound so filthy.

“When you kiss your way down my body… When you wrap your pretty mouth around my cock…” Jinwoo breathes out rather raggedly, getting aroused by the vision. His hips press down on you, slightly grinding against yours as he nips at your neck. “You asked me what ran through my mind earlier when I was on the raid. It was this, picturing you on your knees, your pretty eyes staring up at me, waiting—begging for me to give it to you. I imagined you taking me in your mouth, slowly, deeply, obediently like the good girl you are.” The raspiness in his voice tickles your ear, derailing you from your thoughts. “I wanna fuck your mouth, Angel. Wanna fuck it until you cry. Until you start gasping, gagging around my cock.”

This is new to you, this burning, stimulating sensation that pools in your stomach, the way your body is reacting to him. Jinwoo has never been so… brazen with his words before. He’s a romantic in his nature. Expletives come out sometimes in moments of desperation, yes, but he never really uses vulgar words to describe how he feels. Even when he talks dirty to you, his lines come in praise, sometimes even poetic in a way. You wonder if something within him has snapped from all these games you’ve played, the same way yours is about to.

“So—so, why don't you?” You breathlessly ask. “I’d let you.”

He lowly groans, trying to rediscover his control. “Yeah?” He asks heavily, his hips still rocking slowly against yours, his hot breath falling on your neck in tatters. “You’d let me?”

“Yes, I want it.” You nearly plead, your fingers grasping against his bare waist. But then, it dawns on you, all the horror that could happen. “Wait, actually, no, not right now. I mean, later when I don't feel so nauseous anymore.”

Jinwoo stops, looking at you incredulously for a split second before he bursts into laughter. “Yeah,” he chortles, his body vibrating with mirth as he lays his forehead on your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want you to actually throw up on me.”

To your disappointment, the sizzling tension between you disperses into nothingness, but seeing him laugh like that, so light and carefree, almost like a little boy, you can’t help but feel warmed by it. A soft smile ornaments your face as you watch him, committing every expression to memory. His laughter eventually recedes, replaced by a tranquil sigh as he looks down at you. “How many questions do I have left, Angel?”

Two, but your impatience tells you to cheat. “One.”

Although he narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, he relents. ”What do you like most about me?”

It’s the easiest question in the world with an infinite number of answers you can say. It would take you forever if you had to list his endearing traits one by one, something that you’d gladly do if you weren’t so consumed by this burning need to have him right now. You decide to say the first word that comes to your mind, the one thing that’s been stealing your attention since the time he kissed you.

“Your tongue,” you answer in a breathless whisper, your mortification sinking in only when it rings back to your ear. His tongue?! You reprimand yourself. Seriously?! It’s not that it’s wrong—his tongue is definitely something else—but to say it out loud?

You expect your husband to burst into laughter again, or worse, act cocky and cheeky about it, but his voice takes on a slightly darker tone, his body heating up above yours. “My tongue, huh?” His voice, low and deep, silences your thoughts at once. “And what exactly about my tongue do you like so much?”

Your face nearly explodes, but knowing how it already slipped out of your mouth, you might as well just tell him the truth. “I…” Your cheeks burn bright, your voice reducing to a murmur. “I love the way you use it when you kiss me.” And when you pleasure me, you want to add, but there’s only so much shame you could endure.

Jinwoo lowers himself to you, his gaze intense. “When I kiss you…” His lean fingers trap your chin, his hooded gaze falling to your lips. “You mean like this?”

His lips move against yours in a sweet, slow, sensual dance, taking his time, making sure that you feel everything, every detail, every breath he releases that you consume, every movement he makes—the way he parts his lips, the way he parts yours, the way he deliberately drags his tongue from the bottom of your chin to the seam of your upper lip before he pushes in through the aperture just enough for you to feel him on the tip of your tongue, the way he tastes in your mouth, a bit of mint, and a lot of you. Everything fills your senses.

He breaks away to let you catch your breath, a string of saliva connecting the bridge between you. “Jin—“

“Not yet,” he dives back in, turning it up a notch. Each swirl, each glide, each roll of his tongue against yours feels like it’s in slow motion, your toes curling in the sweet torture he gives you. It feels so much more obscene, so much filthier than the ravenous kisses you shared before. He keeps the kiss slow but deep, exploring your mouth the way a yearning man would savor his lover’s last kiss. He breathes heavily through his nose, emitting a soft groan every now and then, addicted to the way you taste.

His previous kisses left you breathless, but this… This leaves you in a haze, so spellbound by his kiss that when he separates himself from you, you can barely remember your name. Your eyes, dazed and hypnotized, follow the way he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, now slick and swollen after being suckled.

But perhaps, he shares your sentiments as well, because the second Jinwoo draws himself back, his thumb presses down on your lip, tugging it lower to see the sweet cavern inside, his eyes misted with hunger as if he already misses the way you taste.

“Jinwoo—”

“Do you know just how much self-control it takes to not just take you right here, right now?” The huskiness in his voice stuns you, so rough as if he were on the brink of losing himself. His eyes slowly journey back to your own, turning you into a nervous, excited mess beneath him. The intensity of his gaze… The depth… The vivid desire that leaves you gripping the sheets… “You don’t even know how sexy you are to me, do you, Angel? You and your pretty eyes and your little white gown, and these sweet”—he kisses you, lighter than air, yet he still moans softly at the contact—“sweet lips of yours.” His hand slithers to your neck, his fingers caging you, leaving you completely under his mercy. “Think I could just eat you up right now.”

Your heart beats in your throat. “S-sorry.”

He blinks before he releases a soft laugh, his hand leaving your neck to tangle your fingers together. ”Why are you apologizing?” Honestly, you don’t even know why. It just felt like you had to after messing with his sanity so much. Jinwoo, still smiling, applies a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “There’s no need for you to say sorry, Sweetheart. I love it when you make it hard for me to control myself.”

“You do..?”

"Of course I do,” he presses another kiss, more playful this time. “I love it when you look at me with this look in your eyes. I love seeing you breathless.” He cups your cheek, taking in your features. “I love knowing how much you want me.”

He can feel your chest rising and falling against his as the tension returns. Your breath comes in short, shallow breaths, his acute hearing catching just how fast your heartbeat grows. He’s close to losing it, even when he plays it cool. “Do you still have more questions you want to ask me?” Jinwoo says, despite his mind already drifting somewhere else. “If you do, then this is your last chance, Angel. I’m afraid I’m starting to get a little… impatient.”

You wish he could just sever it, that last rope that binds him together. And perhaps you can, he’s handing you the knife to do it, after all.

“No,” you breathe out. “No more questions.”

His eyes gleam, his lips curving into a wolfish grin. “Well then…” Without warning, he rolls you to your stomach until you’re pressed flat against the bed. His hips press down against yours from behind, his hand fisting a handful of your hair and he tugs it back, earning himself a low groan. Deprived of your options as you’re being held still, your eyes land on the standing mirror before you, just the way he wants you to. It reflects you perfectly, showcasing how helpless you are beneath him, the pathetic look on your face—so eager to be touched, and the way his gaze turns dark as it meets your own.

Jinwoo whispers in your ear, keeping your eyes locked with his in the mirror as he smirks.

“Let’s play a different game now, shall we?”

***

Read the alternate/deleted scene here. It's spicier 😁🌶️

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sweetflanfiction · 6 months ago

Text

Asymmetrical Symphony - Part 2

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written and GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N.: Thank you for the fav and comments!! This chapter isn't gonna have much Viktor in it, but I'm just starting to estabelish some things and get the ball rolling. I'll try and update more Vik x you as quick as possible. :D

Part 1

• ··········· • ············ •

The world was spiraling around you. Noises of the past, the present, of another version of the world, blurred and mixed into a weirdly misshapen music. You tried to stop it, pause the song to figure out what’s what. Pull a thread to focus on something, to ground yourself. You inhaled air into your lungs and then expelled it. Every time you breathed out, the sounds became less confusing, like an orchestra finding itself following the maestro. In the end, only the quick buzzing of the world around you was left, as it settled down in a place and time.

You dazedly opened your eyes to a bright ball of light right before you and someone’s hand on your forehead. The sudden memory of the Hex Angel standing on top of you, extracting your soul from your body, flooded your senses, and you had to get away.

Quickly sitting upright, you shoved the construct away, watching with dread as the angel fell and stood up with ease. Their hands up in mock surrender, the mask emotionless.

“Calm down.” It said, with the familiar accent of a friend. “You’re safe.”

“Vik-Viktor stop…” You mumbled at the thing while it tilted its head at you. “Please”

It kept coming closer, its movements slow and deliberate, palms up to you as if it were approaching a scared animal.

In the haziness of trying to get away from it as fast as possible, you felt the ground give away under you, and once more, you were snapped back to focus when you landed on something hard.

The sound that left your lips was less than elegant as your back hit the cold, hard floor. Your body is now fully awakened to every scratch, bruise, and wound.

The first thing you noticed, as you tried to will the pain away, was the hard, smooth surface under your fingertips. Ceramics, cold hard ceramics. You turned your head and opened your eyes to a wall of floor-to-ceiling tiles, arranged in soothing colors.

You frowned at the familiar sense of the place.

Tilting your head backward, the minty-colored fold screen was unsurprisingly standing between gurneys, confirming where you were. Pilltover’s General Hospital.

And by the present company, maybe you had gone back to your time? Maybe forward? It didn’t make sense if they were here while you still looked human... something happened... Did you change anything that made the HexAngels different?

The sound of footsteps clicking on the floor was enough to get your mind back to the situation at hand. You tried to move, but something was grabbing your extended arm.

Your gaze followed the extent of your arm until it reached a cuffed wrist. Your cuffed wrist. They had cuffed your arm to the bed. You pulled at the restraint, testing it. It rattled but didn’t open, as expected.

“It’s alright…” The Herald’s modified voice scrambled into a warm woman's tone, its footsteps coming closer and closer.

That’s new. You snapped your neck to the voice, inching as far as you could from it.

The shape that appeared from behind the bed shifted from an abnormally beautiful construct to a tall and thin nurse.

“What the…” You looked at her face. A smile plastered on her face, hands stretched toward you. “Where am I?”

She gave the expected answer, but she did not understand the depth of your question.

“Why am I cuffed to the bed?” You asked, not moving from your seat on the floor, your backside becoming cold under the hospital gown.

“Officer Caitlyn wants to speak with you. You were found unconscious in the rubble of the attack.” The nurse went to grab you, and you swatted her hand as your vision layered her hand with a gold claw. She frowned.

“The rocket attack..." You mumbled, and she nodded.

“Quite the spectacle. If it had been in the Lanes, nobody would care.” She whispered, but you heard her.

“People died." You snapped, her eyes locking with yours.

“People die every day.” Her face contorted into a scowl, and you noticed a familiar accent in her speech, hidden behind the effort to sound Pilltovian. She’s from the Undercity.

You looked her in the eyes, and her indifference was palpable. She moved to grab you, but instead, she held her arm out.

“Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”

You wrapped your free hand on the forearm and pulled yourself up, towering over her.

“There we go.” She patted the bed, and you complied, sitting on it. She stood in front of you, grabbing a tiny silver flashlight from her pocket and lifting it with one hand while the other went towards your face.

Reality shifted, and once again her hand transformed into a golden claw with white fingers. You swatted it away and moved your face out of reach.

“No touching?” She asked, and you nodded, her following your movement a second later. “Very well. But I need to check you.”

“I’m fine.” you said, and she rolled her eyes.

“You survived a rocket hit to the head. Trust me, you are fine because we gave you drugs.”

You felt the corners of your lips turn up at her sass. With the faint accent, it was like you were back at the Talis Lab.

"Just don’t touch the face.”

“Very well, then you have to do it.”

She instructed you to pull your lower eyelids down, pull at your cheeks, and even gave you the tongue suppressor to look at the back of your throat.

“You seem very comfortable around someone in cuffs.” You told her as she gently peeled the gauze from a wound in your arm.

“People talk. From what’s been going around, you ran into the figurative building on fire. Sure, you knocked around a few enforcers, but sometimes they do need some sense knocked into them.”

You enjoyed it as her accent became more and more pronounced the more she talked. Memories of good old times flooded your mind when another Undercity crossover would talk your ear off as you fine-tuned your instrument. You knew that accent by heart, even mocking him by mimicking it.

“How long ago did you cross the bridge?” You whispered, not wanting to divulge that information to the world. She raised an eyebrow.

“A few years back, before nursing school.” She kept choking your wounds. “How did you figure it out?”

“The way you speak. I knew…know…knew someone, a friend, a close friend who spoke like that. They were…are…from the other side as well.” You cleared your throat and gave her your best Viktor impression. “If you don’t succeed at first, you must try again, after hiding the evidence, of course."

“That’s pretty good, actually. People here judge on sound alone. I’ve been hiding it for years, and you caught it in minutes.” She grinned.

“It does take practice and a good ear.”

You both fell into a comfortable silence, her checking your wounds and you reminiscing about the old days.

“When was the attack?” You asked suddenly, and she looked up from examining your ankle.

“Two nights.”

“What time is it now?”

“7 AM.”

“Who survived?”

“You.” She grinned. “Councilor Medarda, Councillor Talis, Councillor Shoola, and Councillor Salo.”

Your ears drowned with the sound of your heartbeat. Did you go through all of this for this to end up the same way? Were you going to lose your friend again?

"Ah, yes, someone else was found in the rubble.” Your eyes snapped open as she got up from her crouched position. “The other Hextech founder... What’s his face? Lanky, tall, always standing behind Councilor Talis.

"Viktor?” You whispered, and she nodded.

“Yes, that one.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. He is alive. For now. The calmness you had from the news was quickly replaced by another violent attack soon.

“Did they announce the remembrance speech day?” You asked quickly.

“I don’t think they even announced the public funeral dates, let alone announce the speech day.” She scribbled something on the board at the foot of your bed. “Well, my job here is done. I hope they go easy on you.”

She nodded, and you nodded back, turning to lay back down on the bed.

You had to figure out a way to stop that speech day. Or stop Mel, Jayce, and Viktor from attending, which would be impossible since Mel would be the one giving out the speech and Jayce was going to follow Mel and Viktor was going to follow Jayce. Or be made to, since these types of events were far from his favorite thing.

Time traveling is complicated, especially when nobody seems to know you.

You frowned. Why did nobody know you? I mean, the enforcers at the hexgate sure, but the ones in the Academy? You were practically a light fixture there, with the amount of time you spent inside.

And then it hit you like a rocket. They didn’t know you because you either didn’t exist or had a completely other life. So there was another possibility to your whole existence in this place. You could have time traveled, yes, but what was stopping whatever did this to you from making you jump through time and space?

What if this was another dimension, another universe, another timeline? What if the gods or whoever was trying to add variants to the timeline and see what got them the best results?

Your head was about to explode with this new information. Being cuffed to this bed in this brightly lit room was not helping the situation either.

You needed to get out. Without knowing what was the catalyst in this universe for the rise of the Herald, you couldn't stop it. You could warn Viktor; what better way to stop him from himself if he knew the consequences? But what if warning him was exactly what made him go through with it? His magnum opus actually worked for better or worse.

Introducing a single keystroke of a sonata could change the whole tune. You had to warn him, discreetly. Which you couldn’t because you were cuffed to a bed.

Reality moved, and for the first time since it did, you focused on it. It felt like when you’d be in the lab and you could feel a spark of something in the wrong place, waiting for the right circumstance to zap. Another whisper. A soundless gasp reverberated around you. The sound of metal vibrating as it’s struck made waves around you, like a stone that hit the water.

You managed to decipher, in between the waves, a new rune.

Whatever powers were drip-feeding you, these runes hadn’t failed you yet. You looked around for a pen, a dusty surface. Nothing. You looked at the hand with the rune scarred into it. Nothing.

You looked at the side table. A glass of water. You tilted it on the table, but as you drew the rune, you watched as it became disfigured. The water wasn’t keeping its shape on the flat surface.

Quickly, you patted the side of your bedding down, making it as smooth as possible. When it was flat enough, you dipped your fingers in the water and drew the rune on the sheet.

Stop the attack. Flick. Nothing.

Did you need it to be broader or more detailed? You tried again.

Save Piltover. Flick. Nothing

Stop the Herald. Flick. Nothing

You flailed your hands around in frustration. The rattling of the cuff on the metal side of the bed echoing around is this wrapped reality.

"Just unlock, you piece of—"

Growing frustrated, you punched the rune. Something clicked, and your hand was freed.

The world got back to normal, and you inspected your wrist, your gaze shifting from your wrist to the cuff.

You shook your head to clear it and immediately made your way out of the bed, limping your way out of the six-bed infirmary. Some of the orderlies looked at you sharply, but with the attack they seemed to have their hands full, choosing to effectively ignore you.

You grabbed someone’s jacket from the foot of a bed and put it on, thanking the gods they had kept your socks on.

The hospital was crowded, and you took that opportunity to make your way towards the exit. You kept your walk brisk and your head down, trying to walk around everything and everybody. Your heart was at your throat. Sneaking was never your forte; the last time you did, your father caught you halfway out the gates of the manor. You sighed, remembering the way he made fun of you more than argued. Footsteps light as a cannonball. You were usually the distraction for the sneaking, being the preferred go-to person for when the boys wanted to sneak a particular piece of equipment into the lab and didn’t need anyone to know. Especially Heimerdinger.

Forgetting your misadventures for a moment, you look up and see the glass doors, and beyond them the street. A couple of more steps. You quickened your pace, breaking into a small, limping run towards the doors.

The fresh air made you stop as it hit you in the face and you realized how damp and dense the air in the hospital was. You took a deep breath and started to make your way towards the sidewalk, looking up at the street, trying to map in your head the easiest way to get to the Academy, maybe even Viktor’s apartment, and if both failed, the Skyward Clinic, the topside private hospital. If any of them was hurt, that's where they would place them.

With your route mentally traced, you turned around to go down the correct route when something—or better, someone—made you stop dead in your tracks.

The Sheriff of Piltover to be, Caitlyn Kiraman, was standing right behind you. One eyebrow raised, arms crossed, eyes red and puffy. The scowl on her face contorting her pretty features.

You are about to run in the other direction, knowing that getting sent to jail would not help in your 'save-Piltover-from-the-Hextech-co-creator-genius-by-saving-said-Hextech-co-creator-genius’ plan when you feel the presence of two people behind you.

“I am not in the mood for games,” Caitlyn said, her voice matching her rigid stance. “If you are well enough to walk, you are well enough to talk. I can bring you in conscious or not. Your choice.”

“Why am I being arrested?” You asked, knowing full well that the trail of unconscious enforcers you left behind two days ago wasn’t exactly lawful.

She simply nodded to the enforcers behind you. They grabbed your arms unceremoniously and cuffed you, shoving you in the back of an Enforcer van.

············ • ············

Groaning, you rest your forehead on the table, the cool temperature of the metal helping the headache. You are sitting inside a concrete room, with your hands cuffed to the table. Caitlyn had left you there to stew.

"I'll be back... eventually." She had spat as she closed and locked the door.

With nothing but time to think, you went through your magic runes. With a limited range of motion, you started by drawing them on the dusty table without any intent for them, pushing them out with a tap of your finger.

Move. Tap. A miniscule part of the table seemed to become liquid, like you had thrown a pebble into a calm river, but nothing shifted or moved.

Unlock. Tap. Both of the cuffs and the door behind you clicked open, and you slowly looked between them.

Before you could get up and walk out, the door slammed open with a very puzzled Caitlyn standing just outside. She looked at the door and then you. Shrugging, you turned back to the table, quickly clicking your wrists together to reclose the cuffs.

“Who are you?” She asked, dismissing whatever thought she had previously.

You answer with your name. First and last.

“Adding ‘identity theft’ to your crimes isn’t going to help you. Who are you?”

Nodding your sighed content. If it’s identity theft, then there is someone with that name. Maybe you’d meet yourself and the dimension would implode. Or they could help you.

“I would like to speak with my father, Counsellor Rainemour.”

Cailyn raised an eyebrow at your question, setting the folder down and watching you with hawk eyes.

“There is no Counsellor Rainemour.” She stated,coldly.

“But the Rainemours are in Piltover, yes?”

“Enough with this! Who are you? The truth! Now!”

You opened your mouth to answer but didn’t know how to. So, you repeated your name. She groaned and sat down in front of you.

“Do you know who Jinx is?”

"No.” you lied.

“Do you have anything to do with the attack on the Council of Piltover?”

“Ah… That’s why it’s you. No…”

And finally the penny dropped. The reason why it was Caitlyn who was questioning you. She had been such a normal face to talk to, to look at, to bounce ideas with, that it didn’t dawn on you why she was the one talking to you now. The daughter and soon-to-be head of the Kiraman family. She thought you had something to do with the rocket attack.

“Then what were you doing in the council room?”

“I was trying to warn the councilors about it.”

“So you knew about it,” she shot quickly.

“Knowing of a crime and being involved in it are two very different things.” You fired back. “Why am I being arrested?”

“Trespassing on government grounds, assaulting several officers of the law, entering a governmental space without authorization, and last but not least involvement in the rocket attack that left several of the councilors dead or injured.”

You looked at her and made sure she was looking at you, seeing the frown grow deeper as you raised an eyebrow.

Counselor Rainemour liked to argue. He was a lawyer; his whole life was about arguing. Whether it was about Piltover's government or about the ant's right to the sugar in the house. And you loved to argue back. You not only had the patience but also the stubbornness and willingness to argue with your father. You never won, but you also absorbed anything he gave you. Laws, regulations, how the system worked—you were a sponge. If for nothing else, to use it in a following discussion.

“First, I never intended to trespass. I didn't even know I was trespassing. If you don’t know who I am, then I am not in the Piltover's identification system, which means I am not from Piltover. I took a wrong turn.” You leaned back into the chair, the pride and arrogance of a Topsider dripping on every word. You hated to admit this, but sometimes you missed being this person.

“And ended up inside our most complex method of transportation?” She shot back.

“I’m a visitor; how do I know what the inside of the most complex method of transportation in Piltover looks like?”

“You are not a visitor.” She spat and sat down. “It took you 4 minutes and 45 seconds to go from the top floor of the Gate to the Council room. You took shortcuts and straight lines toward the Academy. You are not a visitor.”

You shrugged at her humorless grin.

“Circumstantial, I may just have a very good sense of direction.” She was about to open her mouth, and you raised a finger. "Secondly, the only officer I assaulted was the one at the gate, and technically it could be considered self-defense. I was confused. He was shoving me. I got scared. He was a very intimidating figure.”

“What about the other ones?” She gritted her teeth and leaned forward.

“What other ones? I didn’t touch anybody else. Ask them. For all we know, they tripped and fell.”

Some part of you was proud to be deflecting all of this; the other knew Caitlyn wouldn’t just forgive and forget. If you got out with even so much as a fine, she would hunt you down.

“Third: "Forcibly" already indicates that it lacked authorization or consent to do whatever you are accusing me of. However...” Now the big finale. “Page 450 of the Piltover’s Government Guidelines, City Emergency chapter, 1st paragraph: any citizen of Piltover is allowed unauthorized entrance to the council chamber if the need to inform the council of a threat to the city is urgent and cannot be delayed. This entrance can be done even if the council is in session.”

You took a little pride in remembering this little snippet. Even if the reason you knew it was not because of your father. In fact, you knew it because Viktor had once made a miscalculation on a hextech concept that Jayce was about to present to the council. So he had burst into the room to try and warn their friend mid-session.

Turns out, saving your friend's face from total academic embarrassment is not a threat to the city.

“You must be really stupid.” At the insult, you narrowed your eyes. "Going on and on with your technicalities, knowing I can use it against you.”

There was one insult that had always made your blood boil. Stupid. You could be called dumb, ditzy, or unintelligent. Anything but stupid. Your Caitlyn knew that; your Caitlyn was the first to punch someone when they did it.

“My father is a lawyer, Miss Kiraman.” Your face turned cold, your tone hard. The shift was enough to make Caitlyn’s eyebrows go up for a millisecond. “He thrived on technicalities. And you can’t use shit from what I just said. You didn’t read me my rights. Nothing I said since you stepped foot in the room can or will be used against me. This…” You pointed between the two of you. “Is nothing more than two friends catching up. Your grief is clouding your judgment.”

For a second, the tension was as loud as a trumpet, and the silence was as thick as a fog. Caitlyn slammed her hands on the table and leaned into it, getting her face an inch away from yours, only to be stopped by someone shoving the door open.

“What are you doing, Miss Kiraman?” An unfamiliar female voice announced from behind you.

············ • ············

Viktor didn’t believe in luck.

Because if he did, all his accomplishments could have been derived from it. So he just didn’t believe in it much. Sure, maybe finding some coins on the floor was luck, but not much more than that.

Everything he did and does is to make sure nothing is left to luck or chance. Every number on the blackboard, every calculation on his blueprints.

But now, standing in the middle of the destroyed council room, Viktor felt lucky. Extremely lucky.

• ··········· • ············ •

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