#long live dom prowl

[maplesyruplover]

I'm writing a valveplug chase fic with Prowl and another character, and man do I hope that I do the whole Praxian enforcer chase trope well.

I'm having fun writing it, and I've already got over 2k words into it, and I'm nowhere near finished yet.

[elflutter]

— i'll love you forever (a momma, you'll be)

kinktober 03 → ruts & breeding kink

in a rut!logan x f!reader

synopsis

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze. You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?

wordcount: 2.7k | crossposted on ao3 | fic notifs

tags/warnings below the cut!

tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), worst wolverine, light a/b/o dynamics (ruts), breeding kink, daddy kink, light dom/sub, age gap (reader is 25+), logan calls himself old man, pet names (incl. sweetheart, baby, momma), unprotected p i v, creampie, fingering, mention of a safeword (not used), reader is ovulating, mentions of pregnancy, pussy pronouns (she/her), logan can pick up reader (but he can lift up to 800 lbs so), logan calls reader's pussy his, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!

a/n: idk what came over me with this one omfg. some of this filth was definitely influenced by some other amazing fics i've read this kinktober. the way you want to by @eupheme and baby fever by @silverskyeline come to mind specifically! please go give them some love if you enjoy this one, hehe. and thank you @sceletaflores for hyping up all my depraved ideas, ily

Your boyfriend’s mutation provides certain… perks to your relationship. Firstly, he’s strong enough to pick you up like you weigh less than nothing. And with the healing factor, his refractory period is practically non-existent. But, you think your favorite part of his mutation might be the one on display right now.

Logan’s pupils are blown wide the moment he walks through the door to your shared apartment. The front of his flannel is dark with sweat, a common sight after another long day at the construction job Wade helped secure for him a couple years back. But, from the bulge is already visible through worn jeans, you think all that sweat might be from something else, too. Something that sends electricity shooting down your spine, because you’ve been waiting for this.

Logan clicks the door shut, twisting the lock behind him without looking away from you, his stare heavy and heated. He pulls off his work boots like he cant rid himself of them fast enough, and you’re surprised the well broken-in leather doesn’t rip under his ironclad grip. The thought of that grip on your body, those fingers pressed into the plush of your thighs, has warmth pooling in your core— thick and sweet, like honey in your veins. Heavy and intoxicating, like the whiskey on his breath when you first met.

His biceps bulge beneath rolled-up sleeves as he reaches down to adjust his hard-on, and he prowls to where you sit on the couch, body twisted so you can keep your eyes on him. When Logan finally reaches you in the living room, you’re certain you’ve soaked through the lace of your panties. You straighten out your torso to face forward as he kneels in front of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his broad form.

His voice is as rough and dark as the denim of his work jeans when he finally speaks. His grip hard on your ass, just how you like it. Fingers dig into the thin fabric of your leggings as he pulls your body to the edge of the couch.

“Rut’s here, sugar.” He buries his nose against your hair, breathing in deep— the warm vanilla of your shampoo mixing with the heady scent of your arousal. He speaks into your hair, like he wants to bury himself there. “And I could fuckin’ smell you from the hallway. Drippin’ for me, huh?” He nuzzles in even deeper then, indulging.

You wait for his nose to pick it up— that you’re fertile. You should be, if you’re tracking correctly. You pray that you are. You think you must be ovulating, from the throbbing ache you’ve felt all day. Aching for Logan, for his thick girth to split you open, to be full of him. For that moment, as he empties within you, of soul-deep connection.

When Logan groans against you, the sound a broken thing, your racing heart kicks up a beat. He’s scented it; you’re certain. Logan pulls back, his large hands moving to cradle your face with a gentleness that sends a pang through your chest.

“Baby, are you—” He searches your eyes for an answer, as if he can peer into them and see your desires.

Even during these ruts, when his body burns with an ache only for you, to fuck and to fill, to claim, you call the shots. You tell him to stop, that it’s too much, and he will. He’s still Logan, always in control of himself. It’s not unlike how your sex drive changes, during your own cycle. And, shit, you’re weak for it. Always have been.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been waiting for this day: Logan at his most fertile; you at yours. Even though you’ve talked about it, stopped your birth control for it, an an unspoken question still lingers in his gaze.

You’re sure about this? You really want a baby with an old man like me?

You nod; the sting in your chest drowning out the ache in your core for a moment. One day, you hope, he’ll see that you want everything he could possibly give you.

“Yeah, baby. It’s time, I’m ovulating.” Leaning forward, you press your forehead against his, fingers moving to rub gentle circles in his hair. “Please, Lo. Want your baby.”

His lips crash into yours, then, before he’s scooping you up. You hook your feet behind his back as he carries you to the bed, peppering you with kisses and breathy murmurs in your ear.

“Alright, sweetheart, want me to fuck a baby into that sweet little cunt?” His teeth are on your earlobe, hot breath grazing each of his love-bites. You’ve melted into putty in his hands when he finally sets you down on the plush surface of the bed, mind a haze of lust and longing. “Gonna look so good with my baby in you, my little momma.”

Your cheeks grow hot, his words nestling through your mind and finding a home in the dull throbbing between your legs. His name escapes your lips in a needy whine. Before you can say anything else, he flips you onto your stomach. His grip finds your hips, pulling up until your ass is in the air right at the edge of the bed; face buried in the covers.

Logan’s hands move to cup the swell of your bottom as he stands behind you, humming in satisfaction.

“Such a pretty little present, comin’ home to her every day.” Your face heats as you realize he’s not talking to you, but your pussy. “She’s fucking drippin’ for me, isn’t that right?”

All you can manage is a nod and a pathetic whimper, words lost somewhere in the haze of desire.

His palms brush up your back, until he reaches out to grab one of your breasts, his other hand supporting his upper body as he leans over you until you feel his hot breath against your ear.

“Already cock drunk, Momma? Haven’t even touched you yet.”

“L- Logan, please—” you keen. You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed about your desperation. You feel so achingly empty— just need his cock in your pussy; his come deep and warm inside your womb. The pet-name plays in your mind on repeat. Momma. Momma. Momma.

The image of walking around in a few months, full with his child, and everyone will know who you belong to. Who did this to you. He’ll make you face the mirror above the dresser while he stuffs you full of his come, night after night, whispering how good you look now that he put a baby in you.

He doesn’t move his lips from where they brush against your ear. “Gonna unwrap my present now. Wanna see that pretty pussy. Know she needs some attention, doesn’t she?”

You nod desperately. Suddenly, he stands up straight again, and before you can even protest at the loss of his body heat pressed up against yours, you hear his claws unsheathe with a snikt.

The claws— another favorite aspect of your boyfriend’s mutation in bed. You never knew ruined clothes would get you so damn wet. But it triggers a primal satisfaction deep within you whenever Logan rips through your leggings, your panties, anything keeping the two of you apart. You’ve invested in owning several pairs of the same cheap leggings at any given time, so Logan doesn’t have to worry about replacing the garments he destroys.

He tugs his claws through your leggings and underwear until they lie in pieces beneath you on the bed, and you whine as the cold air of the room grazes where you throb for him. Logan would usually tease you until you were a sobbing mess beneath him, making you drip through the gusset of ruined panties, grinding against your clothed slit. Then, he would make you fall apart on his mouth, then on his fingers, then make you beg, before he’d finally sheathe himself within you.

You thank whatever higher power exists in the multiverse— you think you remember Wade mention someone called Marvel Jesus?— that Logan could only taunt you with one or two lewd comments before he is ripping at your clothes and stepping out of his jeans, shirt tossed aside, to line himself up at your weeping entrance.

Logan is still standing on the floor behind the bed while your ass is swaying in the air where he’s positioned you at the edge, begging for attention. When the fat head of his cock brushes against your puffy folds, heat blooms beneath each place he teases. You can’t help how your neglected cunt clenches around nothing; desperate for something— anything to ease the throbbing ache. Logan grinds his hardness against you— the tip rubbing at your clit has you keening before he slips two fingers into your slick heat.

Every sense is overwhelmed as you feel him enveloping you in his body— his cock teasing at your clit. His breath hot in your ear. One arm between your bodies, fingers curling deep inside. The other, resting on the bed beside your head. All you can feel is Logan, Logan, Logan, all over.

“Gotta get my pussy ready,” his words brush against the shell of your ear. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your eyes scrunch shut, the image of how you’d look with Logan’s cock buried within you playing in the darkness of your vision— hips slamming into your ass. Balls making soft plap plap plaps as they slap against your swollen nub. Thinking of Logan, his body on fire with his need to claim you— to breed you. Filling you with his come until your womb is flooded with it. Imagining how you’ll grow plump with his child. You can’t be blamed for the lewd response slips out of you in response to his question.

“Yes, Daddy—” the last word is whined out before you can stop yourself. Cheeks heat, as you realize what you’ve called him. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought of it before. His fingers speed within you, curling against the little textured spot inside that Logan knows so well it’s like he owns it.

“Fuck, baby,” Logan pants, his hips grinding to match the pace of his hand. “You’re gonna make me a daddy. You want that, baby?”

His words are rough against your ear— letting out a little hum as you sink even deeper in the haze of pleasure, tension winding tight in your gut.

“Say it.”

The command in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

Your own voice wobbles, sounding small and pathetic, as you eek out a response that is little more than a whine, “W-wanna make you a daddy!”

“Attagirl.”

A feral smile against your ear, as his possessive praise alights sparks within you. Somehow, Logan plunges his fingers even deeper, then. His hips never slow where they grind against your folds, cockhead notching against your clit just right, and suddenly that coiling tension releases with a snap.

Your climax hits you, legs quaking as warmth spreads out from your core, until you can feel it wash through your limbs. The fingers in your cunt work you through the pleasure, slowing as you pant against the bedsheets.

Standing tall behind you again, you don’t have time to mourn the loss of Logan’s fingers before he positions himself at your slit.

His voice, gentle, when he speaks before slipping inside. “Remember your word, darlin’?”

Your cheeks heat. He always asks that, when he’s about to fuck you into the mattress until you can’t remember your own name. He’s especially careful to remind you of it when he’s in a rut. You nod, telling him the word you can always say if it gets too much. Apple, and he’ll stop.

His palms cup your ass possessively, splaying his fingers wide to hold as much as he can. “You ready to be a momma?”

You nod your assent.

Logan clicks his tongue, and you can hear the smug smile in his voice. “Use your words for Daddy.”

His words are firm, smug, and for a moment you think he might be making fun of you. But you can tell he’s desperate in the way he pushes the tip of his cock inside you before you can respond. You never thought you’d hear Logan call himself daddy, and it turns you on way more than it should.

“Ready to be a momma, Lo, fuck,” you swear as his weeping head pushes past your puffy folds and into your swollen cunt.

It seems that your words snapped the last of his restraint, finally allowing his base urges to take over. For him to claim you how you’ve both ached for since he crossed the threshold into your shared apartment.

He pushes the rest of the way into you, hissing through his teeth as his hips finally meet the plush of your ass. When he starts thrusting, it’s a rough, feral thing. His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back to meet him with every thrust. You’re a rag doll in his arms, ass up and on display, face buried as you moan into the sheets.

Logan looks down at you from where he stands, watching his thick length disappear into your tight little hole. When he speaks, his voice comes out in a growl. He can’t help it, with the image of you— fucked out and ruined beneath him. He plans to keep you in this bed, putting his sweet little pussy to use until he can be certain it took.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this, sugar. Lettin’ your old man fill your tight little hole. Gonna keep you full all night, gonna feel my come leakin’ out for days.”

All you can do is whine into the sheets, growing damp with drool as his hips pound against you in hungry thrusts.

“Y’want that, sweetpea? Want daddy’s come?”

Your answer is torn from your throat in a desperate sob.

“Yes!”

Logan’s grip shifts until he’s got one fist full of your tits and one palm flattened against your belly, pulling your body upright against his while he drives his cock up into your weeping cunt. He palms at your breasts, fingers ghosting across your nipples until both are hard and stinging. His grip pinches and soothes, and soon the palm against your stomach moves downward. Then he’s circling your clit, his cock finding that perfect spot inside your walls before plunging deeper until you can feel it brush against your cervix.

Each sensation washes over you, waves lapping against your toes at first. But the water rises higher, higher, higher until you’re drowning in pleasure, your orgasm pulling you under as you come on his cock. You can feel Logan’s words brush against your ear, as you come undone.

“Good fuckin’ girl, coming on your old man’s cock. Lettin’ me do what I need t’ya.” His words are a low snarl when he continues, thrusting harder and harder. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up real good now, gonna put a baby in this tight little pussy.”

You feel your lips form the word yes, over and over, and you think you must be chanting it like a prayer, as his hips snap into you. Logan’s pace grows frenzied as your walls flutter around him in the aftershock of your climax. Reckless, as he pounds into your puffy cunt, your slick leaking down his shaft onto his balls until he finally falls over the edge with a growl. You feel his cock pulse, impossibly deep, filling you with thick ropes of spend. His thrusts slow, but don’t stop, as he fucks his seed further into you.

Logan gingerly lowers the both of you to the bed. You sigh contentedly, finally laying flat on your stomach. Logan cants himself on his elbows above you, still plugged full of his cock.

You can’t help but giggle— he might be into the whole daddy thing even more than you. And that is saying a lot, because you are super into it.

“Lo, that was so fucking hot.”

He chuckles darkly, pulling out before he gathers up the come leaking out of your used cunt and pushes it back inside with his fingers.

“Hope ya don’t think I’m done with you for the night.” Your cheeks heat as you realize he’s growing hard again, his length resting against your ass cheek. “Not even close, bub.”

thank you so much for reading this! id you liked it, please leave a comment or an rb! i would love to hear what you thought!

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[fatecantstopme]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 10

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1536

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

“...Rheena, yes she came here recently, but then she left. She said she was leaving. If only I had known she was going to die that night, I wouldn't have let her leave.” Said Minho, looking very concerned about the whole situation.  

“Did Rheena have any enemies? Someone in particular wanted revenge on her, maybe?” The senior sergeant inquired. 

“No, at least I don't know anything about them.” Minho answered the police officers' questions calmly and honestly. Or at least it may have seemed that way. You watched his body language. You looked for something that would confirm your earlier guesses. However, you were unable to pick up anything of the sort.

“What were you doing the night of the murder?” Asked the senior sergeant. His colleague began to take notes. 

“I was at the apartment of my girlfriend, Y/N. We spent the evening together and went to bed.”

“Can your girlfriend confirm this?”

“Yes.” You replied. “We spent the night together.”

“Is that all, officer?” Minho asked, watching as the junior officer wrote something down on a piece of paper. 

“Yes, that's all.” Sergeant Bhang replied. “I have no more questions.”

The policemen left the apartment of Minho, who bid them farewell with a smile. He closed the door behind them and returned to the living room, where you were sitting. He sat right next to you on the couch, not speaking. You broke the silence between you.

“I heard on the news today about this murder...” You began. “How can you be so calm? After all, your ex-girlfriend is dead.”

“I know.” He replied, placing his hand on your knee. He began to run gentle circles over it. “But I can't do anything about it anymore. Rheena is dead and it is what it is.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“What do you mean, it is what it is! Minho, you said yourself that you would get rid of her, and now she's dead. Do you have anything to do with this?”

“Are you suggesting that I could kill her?” He asked, looking at you in disbelief. “That I could have treated her so brutally? To rape and strangle her and then throw her in the lake? And just because I said she wouldn't bother you again? Don't make me laugh Y/N, I'm not a monster.”

“No... just... you just seemed too calm to me...” You muttered. “Sorry, that's not what I meant.”

You fell silent. You sighed quietly and plunged into your thoughts. There was something in Minho's words that made you doubt his sincerity even more. After all, no one said anything about Rheena's body being thrown into the lake. The police officers didn't mention anything, and the TV only talked about conjecture. 

“Never mind...” A man interrupted your thoughts. “I have the evening off, would you like to go out somewhere perhaps?”

“What, no, I don't feel like it... besides, I should go back to my apartment. I don't want to bother you. And I have class tomorrow, I have to go to it eventually.”

“You don't have to and you won't go.” He said suddenly, looking at you, and the grip on your knee became a little firmer. “I told the university that you're sick and you're off until the end of the week. And I won't let you go to the apartment alone, since there is a murderer prowling the city. You stay here.”

“What? But you can't forbid me to leave your apartment... I don't want to stay here. I'm leaving.”

As you said, so you tried to do. You brushed his hand off your knee and got up from the couch. With a quick step, you moved toward the exit door. Minho moved behind you. You reached for the handle and pressed on it, but the door did not open.

“Y/N come on.” Said Minho standing right behind you. “It's not safe outside. There's been a lot going on lately. Come let's watch something and relax a bit.”

“I want to go home!” You replied, turning toward him. 

“But I don't want that. In our agreement you are supposed to do what I want. Have you forgotten?” His tone changed a bit. He became more firm and sharp.

“And what, are you going to keep me here against my will?”  You felt anger rising inside you. “What about saying you're not forcing me to do anything, huh?”

“Kitten." He approached you with a slow step. You leaned against the door with your back and looked at him with big eyes. Minho hovered over you, resting his hands on either side of your head. “I don't want you to get hurt, is that clear? It's dangerous outside. I don't want to hear tomorrow morning that they found your beautiful body somewhere in the bushes, okay? I'm just worried... In the morning I'll drive you back to your apartment if you want it so badly, but tonight stay this night with me still. You'll be safe here.” Saying this he stroked your cheek gently with his hand. “You are scared and overwhelmed with information. You need to rest.”

You sighed quietly, but agreed with him. In fact, you were overwhelmed with information. There were many things you still did not understand. However, you knew that Minho was not as nice and good a man as he posed to be. Nevertheless, you agreed to his proposal. 

The man led you back to the living room and seated you on the couch. He handed you a blanket and disappeared into the kitchen himself. You looked behind him. You watched him prepare the snacks. He came back to you after a while, placing a plate of snacks on the coffee table, right in front of you. He smiled slightly at you and sat down next to you. 

“ So, what do you want to watch?” He asked, to which you shrugged your shoulders. 

“I don't know, you pick something.” You replied while reaching for a piece of chocolate.

Minho wordlessly turned on the movie. You began to watch. Silence reigned between you. Your thoughts were absent. You wondered who Minho really was? Was he really just a lecturer? You suddenly remembered that Rheena had called him Lee Know. You decided to ask him about it.

“Minho?”

“Yes kitten?” He looked at you, tearing his gaze away from the TV. 

“Rheena named you Lee Know. Why?”

“Hm? I don't know... Maybe she got something wrong? Don't bother with it. It really doesn't matter now.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders. 

“And what does it matter?” Asked the question in a tired voice.

“Only that you are safe... and mine.” He replied, smiling gently at you. 

You rested your head against his shoulder. He stroked your body gently, and after a while covered you with a blanket. He had to watch himself now so that you didn't start suspecting anything. All that mattered to him was your welfare, and anyone who wanted to threaten you had to be eliminated. 

Such was the case with Rheena. His ex was jealous of every woman who appeared in his life. Minho was fed up with this. The decision to get rid of the problem posed by the blonde was not an easy one. After all, they once lived together, and Rheena was ultimately going to become his wife. But things had changed, and Minho had been avoiding her like hell ever since. 

However, by coming to his apartment and lying to YOU, HIS Y/N, she crossed the line. He had to do something, to punish the blonde so that she would not bother you again. That's why he asked his old friend for help. He got rid of the problem once and for all, and only he knew the truth and what really happened. Now, he just had to make sure that you didn't find out the truth. Minho knew that he would do anything to make you stay with him forever, and the truth would only sink him.That was the only thing he was sure of. 

You fell asleep leaning your head against his shoulder. The man smiled slightly. She's so cute asleep...cute and mine, he thought. He slid gently out from under your body and stood up, then lifted you from the couch and carried you to the bed. He laid you down on the soft mattress and then covered you. He left you a short message on a note, which he placed on the bedside table next to the bed. He then left the apartment and closed the door behind him on all the locks. He should have time before you got up, but the fear that you might run away from him was too strong. He sighed quietly as he walked outside. He took a quiet breath, and the night air spread through his nostrils. 

“Time to take care of the next problem.” He muttered to himself and got into his car, driving off toward the forest. He knew that he was the only one who could protect you, and that involved committing criminal acts. However, he was ready to do the right thing to keep his girlfriend safe.

——————————

<- Part 9 | Part 11 ->

-> Series Masterlist

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict, @syedazarintasnim, @palindrome969, @biujulia

[starsandsugars]

You roll like thunder

PAIRING: shiv roy x reader

SUMMARY: after the gala ends, shiv needs somewhere to let our her frustration. she knows just who to call to get her sense of control back. (NSFW - 18+)

TAGS: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, dom/sub undertones, degradation + praise

Notes: I want shiv to be mean to me <3 enjoy and please send in requests!

-

Shiv Roy walked into your life like a storm rolling through in the middle of a drought. She was dangerous and every breath felt like a promise that she was going to come through your life and change everything.

She knew it too, she must. No woman walks with that level of confidence or speaks with that level of ease if she doesn't know just how powerful she is.

That's what everything is about for Shiv- power.

Maybe that's why you let her come over when she calls you in the middle of the night after the stupid Waystar Gala.

She always goes to these events and comes crawling to you once they rattle her sense of control. She gets around her family for too long and they always find a way to take that spark away from her, stomping it out with a fierceness that manages to shock you no matter how many times it happens.

It's been true since you met Shiv her first year as a political consultant on the hill. You were working in a nonprofit nearby at the time, and your paths crossed on many occasions. At first you just nodded politely at each other but as the years went by and you both climbed the ranks you became more friendly to each other.

You met for lunch to discuss business and eventually that morphed into talking about your personal lives. You knew she was dating a man named Tom who she loved, but worried wanted her to settle down to quickly. You told her about your then recent breakup with your ex girlfriend that caused you to have to move all your stuff into a new apartment.

That somehow turned into you showing her your apartment. During your tour one of you seems to have let your resolve slip because before you know if her hands around your throat and your neighbors are banging against the wall for you two to shut up causing you both to dissolve in breathless laughter.

You agreed it was a one time thing.. then a two time thing, then a three time thing until you both stopped deluding yourself by trying to label it.

Shiv was your friend and you had sex from time to time when she wanted to blow off steam without scaring away her boyfriend. It was perfectly normal and for that point in your life it was good. You were too busy for attachments and even your best solo efforts don't come close to make you feel as good at Shiv does.

As long as you didn't think about the fact that she was technically cheating or that you were maybe definitely beginning to get real feelings for her it was perfect.

When you moved to New York for work it stopped being an after work drink and a hookup and turned into butterfly inducing texts telling you she wanted to come over while she was in town.

You knew it was wrong but you opened the door with a smile and your best underwear on every time anyway.

When she moved to New York it stayed relatively the same. You thought they would get more frequent but it seemed being a newlywed kept her more occupied than you had imagined. You can pretend it doesn't bother you as long as you don't look at the ring.

But no matter how busy she seemed to be with work or her husband or whatever new trainwreck her family had caused- she always came crawling back in times like these.

Maybe crawling is the wrong word. Prowling seems like a better descriptor.

She shows up at your door with that cocky grin, usually toting some little gift or a bottle of wine. She walks in, acting entirely innocent as she tells you to get glasses or meet her in your living room. From the moment she enters it's about making sure you both know she's in charge.

Tonight when you open the door, your eyes widen. You knew it was a gala but you hadn't been prepared for just how good Shiv would look in the gown. It hugs her curves just right, her updo bringing out the shape of her face and the glimmer in her eyes. Your voice catches in her throat as she walks past you effortlessly.

"It's late." You comment, trying to pretend like you wouldn't let her come over at any time for any reason. It's bullshit and you both know it, but she humors you anyway.

"And yet you let me in." She says, grinning at you as she slides her eyes over your pajama clad figure. You felt a little underdressed even though you knew that was silly. She has a way of doing that, of entering a room and setting the new norm.

"What, did you have plans?" Her voice lilts as she talks, almost like she's mocking you. "Don't tell me I'm interrupting a very important booty call."

She walks into your living room, leaving you no choice but to follow her as she settles comfortably on your couch. She crosses her legs as you sit across from her.

You raise an eyebrow at her, not surprised anymore by this kind of game and instead all too happy to play back.

"Why, are you jealous?."

She laughs at that, seemingly delighted by your testing her.

"Jealous?" She repeats, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "Please. Can you even cum without me there to help you?"

She's trying to rile you up, reminding you of the time you confessed your then boyfriend couldn't make you cum and neither could your vibrator. She had taken all too much pride in that and you're pretty sure you climaxed five different times that night.

You just shake your head at her affectionately. She's trying to get a rise out of you and you enjoy making her work for it.

"I take it the gala went well then?" You say after a moment hoping she will admit her reasons for coming over.

You stand and approach your bar cart in the corner of the room. As you pour each of you a glass of red wine she sighs.

"They're idiots, all of them." She grumbled, watching you as you approached her once more. She looked at you with that expression that told you she was getting impatient, her fingers tracing over her lips in a clear effort to rile you up.

It works, and your stomach clenched at the sight.

You sat beside her, handing her the glass of wine which she takes with a smile.

"Thanks, sweetheart." She says, swirling it around before taking a sip. "You always know just what I need, huh?"

"I try." You respond, leaning in until your thighs are touching. "I like to make you feel good."

She raises a hand to gently card through your hair, brushing the hair back away from your face from a moment. She seems to be almost admiring you, and she leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

When she pulls back her grip in your hair tightens minutely.

"How about you get on your knees for me then, pretty girl?" She releases you and leans back against the couch, legs spreading wider.

Your heart speeds up in your chest as you nod, placing your glass on the table before sinking to your knees in front of her.

You slide your hands up under her dress, resting on her thighs as you look obediently up at her. She looks like a goddess from this angle, already beautiful face shining with a kind of power that made your stomach turn.

You knew the two of you were equals where it mattered but in the twilight hours when she spoke to you in that commandeering tone all you could think to do was obey.

"Good." She says, reaching down to pull the plush fabric of her dress up until it's resting around her hips. It's not lost on you that she's still got her high heels and gown on while you're sporting your pajamas. It's also not lost on you that she's wearing simple, lacy panties that match her dress.

"You wear these for me?" You tease as you slide your thumb under the waist band of them, watching the way the touch makes her flush just slightly.

"No. But you're going to take them off anyway." She says, taking a sip of her wine as she watches you easily.

You comply immediately, tugging them down her legs and draping them on the rug before running your hands back up her legs.

You begin to press kisses up the sensitive skin on the inside of her leg, feeling her shudder as you finally reach where she wants you. She wastes no time, putting her hand in your hair once more and pressing your forward.

You don't hesitate to give in, greedily licking at her clit until you feel the slight quiver in her legs. That's your queue to double down, urging her closer to that sweet spot. You move your fingers up, teasing along her folds until you can press one of your fingers in just as you flatten your tongue against her sensitive button.

She groans at that, the noise sounding like a siren song to your ears.

"Yes, just like that." She purrs, twisting her hand further in your hair while her other hand moves to pull your shirt down so your breasts are exposed.

You continue your ministrations, speeding up your tongue as you add another finger. You speed up and it begins to pull those high pitched noises from her as expletives stream from her mouth.

"Right there. Don't stop." She says, hips beginning to react in time with your movements.

When she cums it's like your world stops rotating. The sounds she only makes when she's truly vulnerable like this, the whimpers and moans and the way your name rolls off her tongue like a prayer- that's what you live for. You help her ride through it, feeling the same pride you always do at having made her feel good.

Once she's satisfied she pulls you away by your hair and just looks down at you. You can't do anything but look up at her with big eyes and a rapidly beating heart. She seems to find solace in whatever she sees in your expression.

"Come here." She says, pulling you up until you're straddling her lap. She takes your chin in her hands, turning your face side to side so she can see the way her slick glistens on your face. She hums, satisfied, and you get a little satisfaction from seeing she is still struggling to catch her breath.

"You look so pretty like this." She says, stroking her thumb over your lips and slowly pressing into your mouth as a show of dominance. "Bet you'll look even better when it's your turn to cum, huh?" She asks, free hand trailing down to grab at your ass. She pulls the fabric of your shorts down roughly, sliding her hand over your panties to tease you.

"Do you think you can handle that?" She prods.

"Yes." You respond immediately, much less concerned with your pride than you are getting rid of the desperation between your legs. "Yes, Shiv."

She grins at you, slipping her finger under the fabric to just barely brush at your clit.

"Beg for it then." She says, as dominant and demanding as always. You knew she wasn't going to make it easy, but you couldn't help but whimper anyway.

"Please. Please, I need you."

She seems satisfied with this, and pressing a finger into you. You moan immediately, starting to move your hips against her. She wastes no time in picking up the pace, adding another finger and fucking you quickly before you can even adjust.

Before you know it you're a shaking, whining mess on her lap. Her mouth moves from your neck to your nipples, giving you the attention you always crave from her. You know you're just a pawn in her life but when she touches you like this you feel like the center of her world. By the time she's worked you up to an orgasm, you feel like the center of the universe.

"You're so wet." She laughs against your skin. "Bet you've been dripping since I texted you. Even though it was the middle of the night bet you were practically shaking with how bad you wanted me. God, you act like you're so innocent but really you're the biggest slut I've ever met."

She says, dropping her other hand to circle your clit as she curls her fingers in you. She must feel you tighten or maybe she just sees the look on your face but she begins to try to talk you over the edge.

"Come on, cum. I know you can. I want you to, be good and do it for me." She urges and with a bite at your neck you do, spilling over the edge and into the hazy area where you feel like you can hardly steady yourself. You pant and shake as she finishes plastering kisses all over you, pulling down to look at you. She slips her fingers in your mouth so you can lick the cum off before pulling away and smiling at you.

"This was fun." She says, quickly downing the rest of her wine and standing up to readjust herself. You can hardly think straight but you stand on wobbly legs anyway, attempting to right you're close enough that you have some semblance of self respect.

"Leaving so soon?" You ask, even though you know this is her way. She gives you everything you could possibly want except even a sliver of real intimacy. She must see the disappointment in your eyes as she returns and runs her hands over her arms.

"You know I'm busy, dove." She says, using the pet name she only ever uses when she knows she's getting away with something. As if to distract her from this she presses a searing kiss to your lips before stepping back.

"I'll see you around, okay?" She said, and then as soon as she came she's gone with the door shutting solidly behind her.

You sigh as you sink back onto the couch, enjoying the feeling of warmth from where she was sitting. It's not her, but it's close enough.

Shiv Roy rolls like thunder. If you want to be with her, you have to accept that the storm leaves just as suddenly as it rolls in. It moves on from town to town while you're left trying to soak in what's left of the rain.

[virginburial]

.·:*¨༺    a little death.    ♱   chad meeks-martin   ༻¨*:·.

SUMMARY: in which you have a pretty intense night terror alternatively, in which you, a friend of the core four, is stuck at a slumber party, where Chad comforts you after having a nightmare

SHIP: afab!reader x chad meeks-martin WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), unprotected p n v, praise kink, sub!reader, soft dom!chad, choking/gagging, reader jealous as fuck towards Tara, ethan/chad rivalry?? for your attention, "i kIsS tHe sCaRs On hEr SkIn!1!1!!1! XD" type shit, chad is coochie drunk (and a heavy dirty talker), random storytelling/porn with a plot. fluff if you squint. TW FOR: mentions of murder, character death, grief, recovery/healing, ptsd related topics, body image.

WORD COUNT: 6.1K

SONG: a little death by the neighbourhood.

A/N: hello hotties!! i told myself "this is going to be a short one it's pretty to-the-point" but then i forgot who the fuck i was and realized i don't know chill and wrote 6K words of this. typical me behavior. this is for my shawties you love some emotional intimacy <3 chad is the actual loml, i'm shocked i'm writing for him now when i should've done this more last year lol REBLOGS, NOTES, AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED !!    

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

you woke up to your scream. 

It was Halloween weekend, and the news had just broke about the two murdered college students, and their film professor. You, a Woodsboro native knew exactly what this meant. You weren't just any Woodsboro native; you were directly involved with the recent Ghostface massacre of 2022. You had lived in Woodsboro for only a short fraction of your life, yet what happened there impacted everything you do now. 

You had moved from the south; Georgia-Florida-Alabama-ish. You met your current friends in your eighth grade year; coincidentally, the year one of your friends, Tara, had an issue where her sister ran from home. you enjoyed your little life there until it was viciously torn from you by your best friend and her psycho-groomer boyfriend-who you always had a bad feeling about. you were dating Wes at the time of his death, and after he went, so did all of your patience for the slasher genre. fuck the box office, fuck the critics, fuck the movie. 

when things had finally settled down, you and your newfound family decided to make the ambitious move to new york.  you were stuck being undeclared though as you slowly figured out what you want to get out of your experience at Blackmore. which all leads to now; October 30th, and the boogeyman you only saw in your dreams or in old photos of amber, was now prowling Manhattan for the survivors and fresh meat; ridiculous and fucked, that's what that is. your new friends; Ethan, Quinn, and Anika barely knew the drill. but you did. you've played this game before, unaware you were playing; now your focus could not be shaken.

Sam had suggested a fucked-up slumber party of sorts; "if we all stay together then he won't attack." "or we could be feeding him an all-you-can-eat buffet." Mindy croaks after Sam. Regardless, you knew that it was probably for the best everyone stayed together, especially the new ones. you had your suspicions about Ethan, who seemed to have taken a liking to you. the average sweet nerdy boy who's a bit corny, it all seemed a little too familiar. he would still try to get you to talk to him, stare you down, you could've sworn he stole something out of one of your drawers some time ago while looking for the restroom. you would never admit this out loud, because everyone is always so fucking uptight, but you never really cared about how he objectified you. you liked the attention. 

but he gave off joe goldberg energy, and you were more of a steve harrington girl.

it beats having to look at your long-term crush, Chad, who was falling for Tara. you always felt like the silver lining of both of your partners dying would be that he would finally look at you; but just like Wes when she first got attacked, Chad's eyes were on Tara. fucking Tara. nothing wrong with her, she was your friend. maybe you just needed to stop crushing on and dating boys who would all rather fuck Tara Carpenter than give you the light of day. but then again, you don't even think you're ready for romance to reappear in your life. last year you were manipulated, stalked, and stabbed; Tinder sex would be a nightmare. so there goes that pipe dream. 

you were sleeping in Tara's room with Quinn, Mindy, and Anika, while Chad and Ethan slept in the living room and Sam slept in Quinn's room; which was closer to everyone. It took everyone until midnight to get ready for bed, then Tara's music was too loud, and then Mindy and Anika started getting frisky which caused Tara to yell out "ARE YOU GUYS FUCKING?!" which led to Quinn screaming and laughing, which caused Ethan and Chad to rush in like knights ready to save the damsels, who were just making out. so Anika and Mindy were banished (by Chad) to Sam's room. you made a mental note to remind Sam to wash her sheets. 

you knew, despite the horrible situation that was starting to arise, that right now felt like any other night with your friends, and that it might be the last time things will ever be this way. so what had you screaming the way you are now? if not, a horrific night terror you had about how everything went down last year: the look in Richie's eyes piercing you through the mask as he violently stabs you, leaving gashes as you screamed out for the one person who can't even rescue you; Wes. this happened three hours after the last person went to sleep, making it 3 am. 

the thing with you that the others don't understand is that you had frequent nightmares about what happened. it's nearly a nightly occurrence and every night it's something different; Mindy's under the mask, Amber, Tara, Chad, Ethan, Sam, Anika, the Bodega guy, the guy who played Billy in Stab one, fucking Gale Weathers.  It keeps you up half the night, flashing your phone flashlight in the corner of your dorm and waking your dormmate. you used to sleep with a hunting knife; stuffing it under your pillow and holding it under there. you also have several cans of bear mace; you were Wes's girlfriend after all. you inherited all of his self-defense tools. 

the only one who understands is Sam. You can't believe the situation that's been happening between her and Tara; you would've killed to have an older sister who cares about you like Sam. Of course, your ID starts talking and tells you that Tara is just ungrateful to have a supportive family and Chad's attention and not want it. It fills you with envy. Sam gets it. Sam gets you. Sam tells you to try tea or get a medical marijuana card like she did, or try Zoloft like Mindy is doing. Mindy sarcastically suggests substance abuse. 

you scream, having it rip through the still silence that filled the apartment. with a flip of a light switch, the big overhead light shines over the scene of you; hyperventilating and pacing around as Tara rubs her eyes. The boys, with Mindy, rush into the room on queue as Quinn stands up from the bed. "hey! hey y/n!" she tries to get your attention, anything to break you free from the sobbing mess you were starting to become.  Tara decides to do the worst possible thing and start shaking you, she seems almost confused and pissed off as to why you woke her up. "y/n! look at me-" Tara tries to get your attention. "hey! Tara, that's not helping-" "-y/n, girl, what's wrong?" Quinn talked over Ethan.  

then, finally, Sam chimes in and pushes past everyone; shooting Tara a worried look as she slowly wraps her arms around you. you slowly sink in Sam's arms and sob as she softly pats your back. "another one?" she asked, and you nod, unable to speak as you take a harsh gasp and slowly breath out, trying not to sob more than you already have. you hated being so emotional in front of your friends, you hated being emotional in general. 

"wait so there was no one in here?" Ethan chirps.

Sam shakes her head. "no." she huffs out. "no no, just a night terror...I had one like this the other night. she'll be okay-" "-like hell she is, Samantha! I mean, look at her! she's shaking like a chihuahua!" Mindy blurts out. "I'm gonna make you tea, y/n," she announced as she went to the kitchen. Sam sighs, you could almost feel another brick weigh Sam down with the way she carried herself, then Tara spoke up. "Sorry I shook you, I...I panicked," she admits, which you knew was the truth. 

you sigh softly, your face beet red, blinking away the last of your tears. "it's f-fine-" "-it's really not, I mean, do you shake someone when they're having a seizure?" Tara lightly jokes, earning a small laugh as you sniffle. 

Sam speaks up. "I think one of us should stay here with y/n, at least until she falls back asleep. I would but I am very tired." 

"I don't mind-" "-i'll do it," Chad and Ethan said in unison, which ended with Ethan's side-eyeing Chad. then Chad spoke up again. "I can bore her with one of my old football stories, plus i've known her for years." if only you could read Ethan's mind, even when the look on his face said it all. Sam looks down at you, getting your nod of approval before glancing back at Chad. "yeah, that sounds good." 

Chad, who had come in charging with a chunky remote controller, just passed it to Ethan as he went back into the living room to grab his pillow. Sam rubbed her eye. "the girls can move to my room-" "-yikes." Mindy jingles as she came in with a mug. "I might've been sleeping there, with Anika, if you know what I-" Sam's face falls flat. "-you better be fucking joking, Mindy." she deadpans

"It's not like you're using that new mattress at its full capacity."

"okay gross." Chad gags, clutching his pillow and throwing it on the mattress. by then, Tara and Quinn already moved into Sam's room, probably collapsing at the door and sleeping on the floor as Mindy handed you the warm tea. She gives you a look that makes your stomach flip, it was almost sympathetic. almost like Mindy herself knows how it feels to be woken up like that. Mindy retreats to the room before Sam can say anything else. she sighs. "now I have an excuse to go to Target, and burn those sheets." she turns to you. "you sure you're gonna be fine here, with Chad?" she asks, Ethan, peering right behind her.

"Yeah, thanks, Sam," you tell her as she walks out, leaving just you, Chad, and Ethan. Ethan just purses his lips and gives you a weak smile before shutting the door and the lights off. you sit back down on the bed, grab the mug of tea, and sipped it sweetly, feeling the hot liquid run down your throat as Chad turns on the lamp. The room was cold, dimly lit with autumn new york air hitting your skin from the window next to you, the one Quinn cracked open. 

Chad groans softly as he flops on the messy bed. he's surprised anyone is even getting a wink of sleep tonight, especially you, with how stiff and cold you got the moment everyone left. he stares at you for a second, unable to say anything before blurting out. "...do you wanna watch a movie on my phone? it can be a funny one." he offers. "I have We Are The Millers downloaded." but you just retract even more. why? why can you just shut off whatever's stopping you from opening up? maybe it was the stark realization you never really trusted anyone, ever. 

you stayed silent, unsure of what to do; he wouldn't have offered if he didn't care a little. plus, it was only until you fell asleep. he was not going to stay with you the entire night. you turn to him, biting the inside of your cheek as you sip more of the tea. "no thanks, i've already seen it." you say. he isn't like Ethan; Ethan would just start leading the conversation with questions like 'Oh so what's a movie you haven't seen?' and whatever movie you think of off the top of your head will be the one that'll play. Chad just kind of stops after that; less of a nuisance but you were sure he wasn't at his full power since he hasn't really slept. because Chad can be annoying. 

"you know you hit the floor, right?"

you furrow your eyebrows. "what?"

"you fell off your bed, that's what woke you up. it was very loud, and woke me up," he says as he scoots over to you, sitting right next to you. "I'm a light sleeper now, it's a recent development. it's not all that fun...Tara said you were murmuring in your sleep too before you hit the ground." your face burns with embarrassment. "...how often does that happen?" he curiously asked. 

"What is to you?"

"just looking out for you. y'know, since the masked killer that tried killing us last year is trying to kill us again." his voice dripped with sarcasm. you scoff. of course. "...it happens a lot, maybe one of two times a week? it used to be every night." 

"I guess that explains your caffeine addiction."

you chuckle weakly. "thanks doctor dudebro." 

"I'm just saying, I wish you would've told one of us you were having nightmares..." he voices. "you know, Mindy used to have really bad nightmares. She would call me almost every night around the same time, just screaming and hyperventilating. it feels pretty real at the moment. then you wake up and it's not real." he mumbles towards the end. looking down a bit. you study the expression on his face, you knew Chad was more than some meathead jock, he gave you butterflies, and he seemed to be the healthiest among the survivors. he looks at you. "I'm on like 75 milligrams of Zoloft at all times so...I know what it's like, I've had my fair share of Richie-Amber adjacent nightmares," he confesses. 

your stomach churns from what comes out of his mouth. "is that why you agreed to stay here? to talk me into talking about what happened and get medicated-" you jumped.  Chad shakes his head. "no no, I'm not here to tell you what to do, or how to heal,  It's just...hard seeing you this way." you know exactly what he means, so you dropped the stubborn act. "I know none of us are really dealing with it, but now it's happening again...and I don't want to get hurt again. I don't..." he processes what he's about to say before expressing it; "...I don't want any of us to get hurt again."

"...do you think about her?" you blurt out. "liv, I mean." 

Chad freezes. you almost start to feel bad about bringing her up before he responds with. "most days." he croaks out softly. "sometimes I think if I would've just done what she wanted and went upstairs with her, things would be different." he fiddles with his fingers. "but then again, probably in the worst way, right? I don't know what I would've done if...if it was Mindy. or you." he flashes you a frail smile. "I think about her every time I hear a Paramore song, or when I see orange is the new black on Netflix or pink box dye. I hate the smell of that sugar cookie body mist that Quinn uses, it's the same one Liv had. She wanted to study 'abnormal psychology', she would've loved it up here...what about you? Do you think about Wes?"

"every night." your voice slightly breaks. "his Spotify account is still up, all the music he neatly organized into playlists for us is still on there, just collecting dust," you mumble, then, you feel pressure slowly lift off your chest as you continued to talk about him. "I deleted Spotify, though. can't be on there without seeing something he made for me or seeing his face, and Instagram too. His dad gave me a box of his things at the funeral and I brought it with me here, I can't look at it for very long without crying," you confess. "...can I be honest?"

"This is probably the most honest you'll ever get me, so shoot."

You let out a sigh, feeling your heart drop to your stomach as you stared into his eyes. "things in my life were already starting to go downhill before everything, and now...it never will feel the same, you know? I will never get over this, i'll just have to learn how to live with it when it's already happening again." Chad watches you, seeing your eyes sorrowly hang as the words spilled from you. he hates seeing you like this. you used to be so full of life, animated, and passionate; now you were just a shell. he softly bumps his shoulder next to you and gives you a reassuring smile. "...you're not alone." his voice softly spoke. "it feels lonely, but you're not alone." 

you finish the tea, setting it on the nightstand before Chad speaks up again. "what makes you say that, though?" he perks up. "that things were starting to go downhill?" he asks, maybe genuinely curious. you bite the inside of your cheek. "I had this feeling that Wes was in love with Tara. I thought I was just going crazy but after Ghostface attacked her, and I saw the way he looked at her, I knew I couldn't keep denying it anymore. I just wanted him to look at me the way he looked at her, everyone looks at her like that, but now he can't because Amber wanted to cosplay Stu Macher." you spat, your condescending tone dripping in anger. "...i've just been filled with jealousy ever since, mostly towards Tara, sometimes at Quinn...the whole situation made me feel...ugly."

Chad scoffs a little, and you immediately get defensive, but the better half of you knows Chad is not going to judge you. "you? jealous of Tara?! Tara Carpenter? The same Tara in this apartment?!" he seems almost appalled. "y/n...Tara Carpenter is a mess." he exposes. "Tara shows up to class drunk. Tara got her driver's license suspended. Tara's mom dropped her after her dad and Sam left already. Tara almost died three times!! Wes was crazy for you, he loved you-it annoyed the shit out of me really but he did. Tara might be pretty but she isn't you...I know what you're trying to say, but the last person you should be jealous of is Tara." Chad rambles. silence falls on the both of you for a second as you process what he told you; he's right. Tara has some horrible luck, you needed to stop comparing yourself to her. 

"...if it makes you feel better, I get jealous of Ethan."

well, that was a shock. "huh?!"

Chad chuckles softly. "yeah, I do, I get jealous of Ethan sometimes." you can notice him getting a bit flustered. "he-he's just lucky, you know? he didn't experience what we did, so he can walk alone at night and go to bars without feeling like he's being watched...he isn't active, which annoys me so much." he raises his hands in defense. "I know I know, it's not my life, but when he does tag along and goes to the gym with me, he can work out a lot longer than I can. he can wear whatever he wants. he can take his shirt off and no one will stare at him or ask questions. he doesn't have chronic pain. he can go and date whoever he wants and not feel bad about his body, or feel bad that he's cheating on his dead girlfriend...little shit like that makes me jealous," he admits, pressing his tongue against his cheek. "my injuries from last year were so severe that I can't even play my favorite sport anymore, and Ethan just gets to sit around and play World of Warcraft with his perfect nervous system." his words stung. 

you couldn't think of anything to say, because he was right; it's not fair, none of this is fucking fair. suddenly, you can't help but slide your hand over to his, squeezing it softly. Chad studies you for a second, his brown eyes scanning how beautiful your features looked in the dark, you couldn't help but notice how clammy his hands were starting to get, he opens his mouth to say something, then he stops himself before saying something else; "...can I show you?" he asks. 

you glance over at him, seeing how close to you he already was. you could feel your cheeks heating up as your eyebrows slightly raised from his request. you were shocked that he trusted you. "you...wanna show me? you won't even show Mindy-" "-Mindy can never take anything seriously, y/n. She's gonna call me Tony the Tiger if I show her." that made you chuckle, considering one of the scars that you had also looked like animal print; or you romanticized it to the point where it reminded you of a zebra stripe. so you nod. "yeah...yeah you can show me."

Chad, noticeably nervous, sighs before lifting his shirt slightly, revealing not one, not two, or three, but four or more deep scars that dented his already chiseled chest. your face flushes, blood traveling to your cheeks as you examine his body, how his skin was still healing, how deep the valley of his abs truly was. your throat goes dry, almost like you can't process the amount of pain Chad might be going through or what he went through when he got those scars. It's almost like he sees you contemplating on what to say; if there was anything you can say to make him feel better. your lips slowly part as you lean in closer. 

"you can touch it." Chad chimes. 

you look up at him for approval, even though he told you that you could. shakily, your hand slowly grazes down his chest, your fingers running down the canyons of his chest, reminding yourself that this was the case for you too, both physically and mentally scarred. you could feel Chad's breath hitch softly, and you stop. "did I hurt you or-?" "-no, no you didn't hurt me..." he says softly, his pupils growing in size as he watches you feel him. you know the room was not well-lit but you knew he could see you blushing. before you know it, Chad's hands slowly creep over to your hips, pulling you closer in the most unsubtle way. "may I?" he asks.

you were flustered, and all the blood that ran to your cheeks ran down to your core, feeling your heartbeat slowly revive itself down there as Chad's big hands rested themselves on your lower back. you squeezed your thighs together; you've wanted this for so long, you wanted Chad's attention since sophomore year, so you nod your head. Chad smiles softly at you before lifting your shirt slightly and exposing the scar on your stomach. you blushed from the tension and the embarrassment. you could feel Chad's hot breath on your neck as his fingers slowly graze your curves, just softly skimming past the waistband of your pajamas as he looks into your eyes. "...did I mention that I get jealous of the way Ethan looks at you?... Same reason I was so annoyed with Wes-"

the desperation of having Chad's hands on you drives you over the edge as you crash your lips into Chad's, feeling how chapped they were as you relax into the kiss. you did this for your inner teenager, who's probably doing summersaults because you're finally kissing Chad Meeks-Martin. before you knew it, Chad eagerly kisses you back, one of his hands squeezing your waist as the kiss grew more and more passionate. you weren't expecting this, but thinking back at it now, you should've seen this coming. you pull away from the kiss, realizing that your hands involuntarily wrapped themselves around his neck, and your faces were just a few inches apart. "well shit..." Chad mumbles as you notice his cheeks turning a dark shade of red. 

he then grabs your chin delicately and kisses you softly, making sure you were present as his hands drop to your hips. the last person you were with like this was Wes, and you knew Chad was in the same boat with Liv. you pull away, seeing his lips chase after yours as you placed his hand on his chest. "Chad...should we be doing this?" he stares into you, his bottom lip caught in his teeth as he gnaws on it, unsure of what to say. "I would like to..." he said softly, pulling you closer. "We should make some new memories..." he huskily whispers before attaching his lips to your neck. your breath hitches as you grab onto him, and once he does that, you realized you wanted nothing more than to fuck Chad. "w-we should." you respond.

Chad manhandles you, again, pushing you back up against the mattress, grabbing your neck and jaw as he leaves open-mouthed kisses, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as a soft gasp leaves you. he hovers on top of you, his breath getting heavier with each kiss before pulling away from your neck entirely. the look he gives you is full of passion. "besides, can't watch you squeeze your thighs like that and expect me not to want you..." he mumbles softly. your heart feels like it's on crack at this point, your stomach cramming with anxiety and lust as you kissed him roughly. 

his lips felt so right on yours like they were always supposed to be there. he quickly gets in between your legs and reattaches his lips to your collarbone, his hands sliding down to your hips as you press them up against his growing bulge. a small moan escaped passed his lips as you grab his face and bring him back to your neck. every touch fills you with passion, your moans getting increasingly louder before Chad completely pulls away. "shhh." he chuckles softly, grabbing your jaw and making you look at him, squeezing your cheeks a little. "our friends are right outside, don't wanna wake them, right angel?" god he's so fucking fine. "no matter how cute you sound."

Chad delicately pulled your shirt off, revealing your tits, since you pulled your bra off before climbing into bed. his eyes could not peel away from them, as hard as he tried to focus on anything else. he gently flicked his tongue around the bud off your left tit, then slowly slides his tongue down your stomach, over your scar, and down to your abdomen. your face soured up from how different it felt having Chad kiss and suck and lick down your stomach. he leans up and kisses you. "your body is so beautiful, you know that?" he mumbles softly against your ear, and you respond by nodding, because deep down you always knew, just never affirmed. 

Chad's hands slowly found themselves sliding off your silk pajama shorts, which might've been driving him crazy all night. he slowly reveals your panties, basic cotton white boyshorts with a wet stain conveniently down the middle. he pulls you to the edge of the bed, standing up as he gets a better look. he smirks at the sight of it, you could see his mouth nearly watering as his left hand softly grazes your clothed core. his class ring hitting your sensitive nub as your hips gently jerk to the sensation of it. then, his hand softly slaps it, a soft, wet squelch coming out of you as your body jolts again. you whine as he starts to speak; "fuck...poor angel, must be very desperate, huh?" he taunts. 

you can barely think of what to say, already so desperate to feel him that you just lazily nodded your head. he grabs your face. "cmon, use your words." he says gently. it makes you feel so weak in the knees as his free hand softly caresses your cunt. "when was the last time you came, angel? you're so sensitive..." he uses his thumb to rub your throbbing clit in circles, still waiting for you to answer. "l-long ago..." and you weren't lying. it's hard to focus on yourself and your needs when you're constantly in survival mode, and it's harder to make yourself cum when the last person who did got brutally murdered. Chad gets it, considering how flaccid his anti-depressants made him. seeing you in this position, though, finally gives him the hard-on he's been waiting for. "let's fix that." 

He slowly slips two fingers into you, watching your back arch as he quickly covers your mouth, his hand taking up half of his face as he thrusts them slowly in you. he sees your body slowly adjusting to his fingers as your muffled moans pushed pass the cracks of his knuckles. his class ring hits your clit with a certain rhythm, making you twitch as you hold onto his wrist. "fuck" you mumble in Chad's hand as he starts to recklessly pound his fingers into you. his actions were so rough but his words were so sweet, causing your brain to almost malfunction; "taking my fingers so fucking well." he pants softly. 

your faint moans turned into muffled screams when Chad stuffs a third finger in there, curling them and thrusting them deeper and deeper into your aching hole. his hand clamping harder around your mouth as your screams got louder and higher. he looked so determined to push you over the edge, it's almost like he wants you to cum all over his fingers. 

your eyes flutter as his thumb grazes over your clit. fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. you wish you had the entire apartment to yourself so you can scream and moan and do Chad on the dining table. for now, you're settling with him shutting you up with his knuckles deep in your hole. you can't help but feel your walls tighten around his fingers. he drags his fingers out and glances up at you, seeing how flustered and aroused you were as he slowly pulled off your panties, shushing you gently and moving his hand away from your mouth. "open wide angel." he hums before stuffing them in there.  

you could taste how tart you were, saliva staining the panties as he slowly slides his finger down your folds, using his free hand to whip his cock out. You faintly groaned out in frustration. you haven't felt this good in so long, your skin hot to the touch as your fingernails dug themselves into his shoulder blades. your eyes pleading as they found themselves staring at his cock; you knew Chad was pretty big, Liv might've ranted a little bit about how she was 'sore' from the first time she did it with him. you weren't expecting him to be so thick either. you could see his cock tremble, his tip already soaked in precum as it glistens in the dim lighting, the lamp hitting it just right as he smirks at you. "come on, angel, show me how bad you need it." he coos softly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

you rest yourself on your elbows, staring down at that Alaskan bull worm Chad calls a penis as you imagine yourself getting nearly split in half by him. how badly your hole was begging for any kind of contact as Chad's muscular arm wraps itself around your thigh. you could see his hand slowly pump his cock as he waited for your answer, maybe you propped up the way you were could get the job done for him. you whine and try to squeeze your thighs again before he forces them open, prying them apart like a Venus flytrap as he slowly inserts himself.  His tip slowly sinking into you "o..oh-f-fuck..." he groans softly, his voice getting even huskier as he pulls down on your hips. "your cunt sucks me up so well, angel...you're s-so tight." he mutters.

he slowly starts lunging his hips against yours, sweat gleaming from his forehead as he admires your reaction to every thrust, seeing your eyebrows furrow, your mouth falls open, your eyes fluttering, all of it just drives Chad insane. "such a pretty girl..." he nearly growls as he throws one of your legs over his shoulder; it's almost like he wanted to pace himself so he wouldn't get lost in the pleasure she was giving him; but it seemed nearly impossible as his pace increases. 

your muffled moans got louder and louder, causing Chad's strong hand to wrap around your neck and squeeze it softly, your moans becoming inaudible as he starts to brutally fuck you into the mattress. you thought this whole exchange would trigger something primal in you, freak you out too much that you end up running out of the room, but it was quite the opposite. Chad leans down. "your pretty moans are gonna wake t-them up, angel." he warns her again, his tone was so sweet though, it made you melt. "how do you t-think everyone's gonna f-feel when they see you getting fucked out-mhm-like the doll you are-?" he groaned out softly, his teeth grazing your ear and tugging on it. 

pleasure began to overwhelm you, your moans and whimpers turning into gasps and yelps as Chad clapped the hand he choked you with over your mouth, again. "f-fuck baby...you w-wanna be my angel, don't you?" he mumbles softly as your body started to jolt with pleasure, you could feel the panties hit the back of your throat, the essence of your juices left stuck on your tongue as your nails scratched up Chad's back. he then answers his own question. "I know you do, sweet girl...fuck, you hear how good you're taking me?" he praises. 

your own pleasure starts to build up as your back arches, and you can't help but cry out from how good it made you feel, it almost made you regret waiting so long before making a move on Chad, or anyone else really. Chad's dirty ramblings keep you on edge: "My cock fits so perfectly inside of you a-angel...wanna be buried in you like t-this all the time-mhmfuck-" his whispers start to turn into strained statements, the sound of skin slapping echoing inside the room, if anyone else was awake in the apartment, they probably would have already noticed the intense fucking happening in that room. 

the tip of his cock starts punching your g-spot like a boxer and his punching bag, you can't contain your muffled moans getting any louder; which causes Chad to cover your mouth for a third and final time. you could feel his cock seize inside of you as Chad's own groans start filling up the room. you were almost worried that Sam or Ethan were going to charge in here and see Chad balls deep inside of you. the pleasure starts to overwhelm you as your thighs shake uncontrollably, your hot breath wafting back into your face as Chad groans out quietly. "y-you need my cum, baby? mhm? that'll g-get you sleeping-" he manages to get out before feeling your juices gush out of you; realizing you had cum all over his cock, your body jerking in response as your eyes fluttered close.

involuntarily, Chad's cock squirms before you felt the thick ropes of his cum spill inside of you. you watched as his tense body finally relaxes into your touch, his heavy breaths and soft groans hitting your neck. seeing him slowly pull out and realizing he forgot to grab a condom from his wallet or check if Tara had some, oh well, it's not like he's gonna get murdered on the way to the pharmacy and back. he notices how limp you've become as he moves his hand away and pulls the panties out of your mouth. you can't help but notice how charming his smile was. he was glad he can catch you at this moment, all worn out and lazy but perfectly content, and finally dozing off to sleep. Chad gives you a lazy, soft kiss before you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, Chad and Mindy had run out to get breakfast; you were the last one to wake up, which Quinn noted as a good thing: "It means you finally caught up to your sleep schedule." which couldn't be further from the truth. you couldn't help but think about just a few hours prior, how good it all felt, how he basically fucked all the nervous energy out of you; feeling zen before the wave of reality hits you. The news was on, still talking about the new local Ghostface killings. you weren't sure if the slumber party kept you safer from the attacks or put you right in the middle of them, all you knew was that you had Chad as a bodyguard now. and when Chad finally comes back with several bags of Dunkin' breakfast sandwiches, he gave the only sprinkled donut he ordered to you. 

          .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

Risk-aware Consensual Kink with...

Dean Winchester as a Knight of Hell and/or with the MOC

Brimstone - Dean Winchester x female reader

Summary: He’s exactly what she wants.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY surprise, bitch

Words: 450

Discord and Rhyme - Knight of Hell/Demon Dean x female reader

Summary: He’s on the prowl.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, rough anal sex, crying during sex, blood during sex, there’s a lot of purple prose and excessive descriptions of taste and smell here, sexual coercion, dirty talk

Words: 1,750

Nihilism - Knight of Hell/Demon Dean x female reader

Prompt: Can you tell me about the morning after going several rounds with Dean he rolls over in bed and adjusts the covers, causing you to forget your shift to be his good girl a couple more times?

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother's Dean Winchester, name-calling, rough sex, nihilistic themes, Knight of Hell Dean, fantasies of being fucked to death? Idk it’s one of mine, might as well be yours, you’re female AFAB in this scenario

Words: 800

Shattered Like A Stone - Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester x original female character

Summary: The Mark is demanding, and the demon in Dean can’t deny it any more than he can deny her; it just might get everything it wants tonight.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, rough sex, bondage, multiple object insertion, suicidal ideation, darkfic, self-destruction, bloody sex, sadism and masochism, analsex, Jameson as lube, spit as lube, face fucking, Daddy as title, misogynist language, choking, strangulation, assisted suicide

Words: 6,800

Supernova - MOC Dean Winchester x female reader

Summary: Since Dean’s had the Mark and the Blade, he’s pulled away from you, afraid of hurting you. You miss him, and you’ve had it. One night you push him to the edge.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, bondage, blood play, biting, bruising, knifeplay, rough sex, dubcon/mindfuck

Words: 2,500

Soldier Boy

Service On The Homefront - Soldier Boy x female reader

Summary: What about the people who don’t really care much for supes?

Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY

Words: 1300

Author’s notes: written before the premiere of live action soldier boy.

Territorial Pissing - Soldier Boy x female reader (1st person POV) x William Butcher

Summary:  My decades’ long crush on Soldier Boy was squashed when my career as a journalist taught me the real Soldier Boy story. Now, my career brings me full-circle. I promise this is not a Magic Dick trope.

Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, mmf threesome, Dom/sub, rough sex, ass and clit slapping, name-calling, sex with murderous misogynists,   bruising, like I said it’s rough, forced orgasms, Butcher refers to himself as Daddy and Soldier Boy mocks him for it, rimming, anal sex (both m/f and m/m), come marking, squirting, choking/breath play,   showering, sensation play (cold), Butcher checking in (bc we all know Soldier Boy won’t), illicit drug use, bondage

Words: 8k

A Well-Made Mistake - Soldier Boy x female reader

Summary: Being with Soldier Boy is like watching a slasher flick or riding a roller-coaster. Except you’re actually in the movie and there are no guard rails.

Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, Soldier Boy in full tactical gear railing you in a three-way mirror, degradation/humiliation, name-calling, Dom/sub undertones

Words: 1400

Billy Butcher

A.K.A. - William Butcher x female reader/you (2nd person POV)

Summary: William, Monsieur Charcutier, Butcher, Billy, asshole.

Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY, use of the word cunt – obviously, me tryna to write a cockney accent, rough sex, girl bonding, rough blowjob

Words: 1800

Mirror, Mirror - William Butcher x female reader

Prompt: Butcher filthy talking while getting busy i feel in like an alleyway or the service hallway in a bar or similar. Somewhere crowded and dirty, like actually dirty

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, rough sex, dirty talk, public sex, Winchester brothers cameo bc this is Kripke’s world, reader is female AFAB

Words: 1,500

The Winchester Brothers

Wait Till My Brother Gets Home - Winchester brothers x female reader

Summary: She wants to lose control.

Warnings/tags: 18+ Only, rough sex, hair pulling, mfm spit roast, bruising and chafing during sex, W*ncest adjacent

Words: 2,450

Sam Winchester

Breaking In The Muted Sky - Sam Winchester x female reader

Prompt: Sam. Overlapping scars tell interesting stories for those able to read them.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife play, blood during sex

Words: 830

Let The Melody Shine - Sam Winchester x male reader

Summary: Dom Sam has decided to buy a gift for himself and his newest friend.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, shibari mentioned, blindfold, edging, anal vibe

Words: 360

You Know Better, Babe - Sam Winchester x gender neutral character

Summary: “Don’t let me in with with no intention to keep me. Jesus Christ, don’t be kind to me. Honey, don’t feed me; I will come back.”

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, implied nefarious intentions, boyking Sam

Words: 680

Main Masterlist

[ink-flavored]

Kinktober2023 Day 5: Cock Warming

banner art by @/auroblaze

Guardian Fallen Angel contains: cock warming, strap-on, anal sex, light dom/sub, cis/trans, angel/demon Kinktober2023 Prompt List & Neocities Page Tips are appreciated!

Pride was beginning to wonder what was taking Justice so long to get home when the door opened. He expected a cheerful greeting, his usual satisfied exhaustion after a day of volunteering, but nothing came. The door shut without preamble.

“Justice?” Pride called, warily, from the living room.

“Yeah,” came the weak reply. “I’m back.”

That… didn’t sound good. Abandoning the TV, Pride trekked to the foyer to see what was up. He found Justice there with his head back against the door, shoulder bag uncharacteristically crumpled on the ground, but that wasn’t the part that made his ichor run cold. It was the splotchy, purple-black bruise around his swollen eye. It spread over his cheek and obscured his freckles, turning his warm brown skin an angry maroon.

“Justice, what the fuck?” Pride blurted, caught between shocked and furious.

“I’ll explain it, I just—” his voice broke, and he took a shuddering breath. “I need to sit down, for a minute.”

He nodded, teeth clenched, and Justice shuffled into the kitchen. Pride fumed in the foyer for a few extra seconds, flexing his fists at his sides. He could not wait for an explanation, along with the full name and current location of who was responsible.

First thing was first, though. He followed Justice into the kitchen. There, he sat on one of the counter stools with half his head in his hands. Slumped, defeated. Pride had never seen him so crushed.

“Want some ice?” he asked.

Justice picked up his head enough to glance his way. “I can heal it on my own.”

“Yeah, but it still hurts. You know I know that.”

He smiled a little, probably remembering all the times he had to heal Pride’s copious, human-inflicted wounds. “Okay,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

Pride shoveled some ice into a plastic bag, wrapped it in a dishcloth, and handed it over. Justice took it gratefully. But he didn’t un-slump.

“What happened today?” Pride dared to ask.

“A lot,” Justice sighed. “It was busy today, a lot of people. A lot of… pain. I wasn’t handling it as well as I usually do, and—” He broke off to swallow. “It was just hard. To know that my help was only temporary, I wasn’t really fixing anything.”

Pride nodded, rubbing his back. If there was one good thing being a demon had brought him, it was removing his ability to feel everyone’s pain—physical, emotional, whatever. Angels had a rough time on Earth versus up in Heaven, where the tiny cries from the humans below were easier to ignore.

“And then at the end of the day, someone started a fight in the parking lot. I went out to try and break it up.” He sob-laughed, one visible eye welling up. “That went great.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Pride tried.

“But I couldn’t stop any of it.” The bag of ice clattered as it hit the counter, Justice turning his palms to the ceiling in a plea for answers. “It feels like I’ll never be enough. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I can’t help anybody.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

He shook his head, but couldn’t answer through his tears. Pride pulled him into a hug, careful of his injury, and let Justice muffle his sobs in his shirt. And though Pride stroked his hair gently, his eyes burned smoldering holes into the wall.

If it didn’t mean abandoning Justice, Pride would already be prowling the streets. He would search relentlessly for the sorry piece of shit who thought they would be able to get away with thinking about laying a single finger on Justice—on his Justice—and keep all their limbs attached to their body afterword. Or keep their teeth inside their head. Or keep their skin unpeeled.

A wet cough interrupted his rage. Justice wiped his cheeks, flinching when he touched the fresh bruise. Pride took a mental step back from his violent fantasies. No matter how correct he was or how much that idiot deserved it, it wouldn’t help Justice. It wouldn’t un-punch his face, and it wouldn’t make him feel any better. So he tabled his revenge quest. For now.

“Can I do something?” he asked.

“I think,” Justice sniffed, “I want to lie down.”

“Okay. My room or yours?”

“Yours, please.”

Pride kissed one of his salty cheeks. “Go ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

Justice nodded, shuffling down the hall. Pride made a detour to the living room so he could turn the TV off, then to the bathroom for a bottle of painkillers just in case. When he got to his room, he found Justice lying on the bed, an arm thrown over his face, not noticing him enter at all. A sinking feeling came over Pride as he realized how tired he must have been—he still had his hair half-up in his usual bun, and didn’t even bother to get his nightcap.

Pride snuck back to the bathroom. He took Justice’s favorite nightcap out of a drawer, long, dark blue, and constellation-patterned. Back in his room, he set the painkillers on the nightstand.

“Hey,” he said. “You forgot this.”

Justice peeked out from under his arm. “Oh. Right.”

With clear effort, he sat up. He scooted to the edge of the bed for the nightcap, but didn’t put it on. For a long minute, he rubbed the smooth material between his fingers. Pride couldn’t help but stare at the bruise. It was so unnecessary, and on the least-deserving face.

“Can I ask you something… weird?” Justice said at last.

“I love weird questions,” Pride replied.

“Okay. Well.” He sighed heavily, preparing. “I missed you today. I was really, really looking forward to coming home and being able to see you. Do you—Would it be okay if—if I warmed you? For a little while?”

Not a hint of lust in the air, it caught Pride by surprise. “You want me to get the strap?”

“If that’s okay?��� Justice twisted the nightcap in his hands. “I want to be close to you, so…”

“It’s more than okay.” He gave Justice a soft kiss, and privately celebrated when he smiled.

While Justice put his hair up, Pride prepared his harness. He slipped it on over his trunks and fitted the O-ring with one of the medium-small dildos at his disposal. Less prep, still big enough to feel.

After being given the okay, they laid down together, on their sides so Justice wouldn’t have to put any pressure on his eye. He kicked his pants off and bent his top leg to let Pride stretch him open, one finger at a time, until he could take the strap with ease.

“Feels okay?” Pride asked, forehead pressed against his back.

“Yes,” Justice said. “Thank you.”

Pride kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be here as long as you want.”

He nodded, sighing contentedly, and snuggling into the pillow. Pride wrapped around his torso with his top arm, catching his hand and lacing their fingers. It was quiet.

It wasn’t the first time Justice had ever warmed his strap, but it felt different somehow. The other times, there was the expectation that Justice would lose his composure. That he’d be begging to move eventually, that sex would follow at some point. But not this time. When fingering him open, he didn’t get more than halfway hard. Even now, Pride could feel a bit of his dick against his thigh—completely soft. Not a single drop of lust floated onto his tongue, either. Justice wanted to be close, nothing more, nothing less.

In a way, it felt even more special. When Justice was tired and beaten, when he felt useless, when he needed to rest, he came to Pride. He sought out the comfort of his body, wanted to be as close to him as physically possible. Justice came to him to feel safe.

If only he’d actually been able to keep him safe. That thought sparked a bit of the rage he’d stamped down earlier. If Pride had his way, Justice would never be hurt again. Unfortunately, the universe didn’t correct course to his whim as it should have.

Despite how warm and comfortable it was to lie there, he couldn’t stop thinking about how unfair it was. That Justice, out of all the humans in that parking lot, got punched. A literal angel, who spent most of his time helping random passers-by on the street, got caught in the crossfire of a stupid fight that probably wasn’t worth the energy.

And what was worse, Justice thought he was the failure. That some idiot’s impulse made him the bad guy. He thought that if he couldn’t solve all the problems in the world by himself, it meant he wasn’t doing enough. That was the most unfair part of it, in Pride’s mind. Not even Justice was cutting himself any slack.

“Hey, Justice?” he said.

No response. He squeezed their hands. Nothing. He untangled his fingers and pinched his nose.

Justice twitched. “Hrmn?”

“Did you fall asleep?”

“Little bit. Feels nice.”

Pride grinned into his back, squeezing him around the middle. “I can get a bigger one for you.”

“Maybe later.” Justice pulled his leg up a little more. “I like this.”

Pride pushed his hips as close as he could. “Suit yourself.”

“Did you wake me up just to ask me that?”

“Uh—no, I had a thing.” Pride wasn’t sure how much sense he made, but he said it. “I know you want to fix people’s problems. And I know you feel like you didn’t do enough today, because you were only helping a little. But even if you never fix anyone’s problems, I still love you.”

“Thank you,” Justice said, softly. “I love you too.”

“And I totally would have killed the one who hit you if I was there.”

“No killing, we talked about this.”

“Fine—but I wouldn’t have let them touch you.”

Justice laughed under his breath. “Thanks, I think.”

“You’re welcome.” Pride was quiet for a moment, then added, “You know I’ll always protect you, right?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I will.” He shifted onto all fours, keeping himself inside Justice the whole time. Pride brushed his cheek, under the very edge of the bruise. “I want to.”

Justice didn’t say anything. His mouth wobbled into a smile. His swollen eye leaked a single tear across the flat bridge of his nose. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Pride gently grabbed his chin and tilted his head for a kiss. He reached out to cup his neck, another bid to be closer. In response, Pride parted, pulled out, and rolled Justice onto his back. He pushed his knees back when he slid the strap back in, and Justice pulled him down for another kiss.

And for a while, that was all they did. Pride kissed him slowly and deeply, not moving an inch. Justice didn’t ask him to, either, content to warm him while they got lost in each other. The one thing that changed was the state of his mood. There was a faint whisper of lust in the air, and his cock was a bit more responsive.

Pride didn’t take any initiative. He kissed Justice, sucked his lip, mouthed a soft line down his neck and back again, but never made a thrust. It was hard not to think about, though. On his knees, with Justice’s legs splayed on either side of him, pressed against his hips, he did think about it. Very much.

“Pride?” Justice said, mid-kiss.

“Yeah?”

“Can I, uh.” He glanced away. “Can I have a bigger one now?”

Pride could not have agreed faster. He swapped the current dildo for a larger one, in both length and girth. When he came back to bed, Justice tasted of a lot more lust, and he was fully hard at last. Taking equal, if not greater, pleasure in it, Pride pushed his legs back and pushed in slow. Justice gasped hotly, scrabbling for the sheets. When it was buried to the hilt, he groaned. Pride leaned down close, kissing his ear.

“Is that what you wanted?” he purred.

“Yeah,” Justice breathed. “Yes.”

“Good.” He pulled back out. “Me too.”

Pride thrusted at last, and Justice whined beautifully for it. He swore to himself he was going to go slow, make it a tease, but that plan quickly fell apart. Before he knew it, Pride fucked into Justice deep and hard, and worked his cock for good measure.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he breathlessly swore. “I’ll protect you, I’ll make sure no one ever touches you again.”

Justice bucked his hips, whining and moaning. Pride caught his next noise in a kiss, breaking away enough to keep going.

“No one can touch you but me. You’re too good for everyone else, I’m gonna keep their filthy fucking hands off you, Justice, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

He nodded frantically. “P-Pride, I’m—”

Pride didn’t let him finish, landing a hard thrust to cut him off. “You’ll never get hurt again, I won’t let anyone ever, ever hurt you.”

A series of broken cries left Justice, then he jerked his hips and came. Pride rushed to shove his shirt up his chest to avoid staining it. He partly succeeded, some stripes flying further than he expected.

“Whoops,” he muttered.

Justice wheezed a laugh. “I was trying to tell you.”

“I was in the zone, okay?”

He laughed some more, and Pride scoffed about how he couldn’t have possibly known that’s what he was trying to say. In the end, Justice took his shirt off and let it sit in shame on the edge of the bed. Pride tried to pull out to clean up the rest of the mess, but Justice pressed his hips back in with his heels.

“A bit more,” he mumbled.

Pride happily obliged, leaning over to kiss him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Justice smiled a real, happy smile. “Thanks to you.”

[songbirdsanctuary]

HC Warrior cat au, Chapter 2.

Warnings: Death, mentioned animal death.

Word count: 1,475

Chapter 2 below cut:

Moon opened her eyes at the sound of her human softly calling her. She looked up at her, the human was a kind old she-human with curly short gray fur on her head, she put a can of food infrot of her and then stroked Moon’s fur before walking away. The human had taken her in seasons ago

—

She had lived as a stray for most of her life, navigating the streets with a fierce independence that both protected and isolated her. Occasionally, she would allow kind-hearted humans to offer her scraps of food, but she never stayed in one place for too long. She had learned early on that attachments only brought heartache.

One day, as she was basking in the warmth of the sun in a secluded alleyway, her friend, a ginger tom named Dom, approached her with a solemn expression on his face. His usually bright eyes were dull, and his whiskers drooped with sorrow. He told her that her brother, Sun, whom she hadn't seen in moons, was dead.

Shock and disbelief pierced her hardened exterior. Sun, her only family left, was gone. She struggled to process this information, her mind racing with questions. How had it happened? Why had she not been there for him? What could she have done to prevent this tragedy?

Desperate for answers, she turned to Dom, hoping he could provide some clarity. But he could offer her nothing more than the news he had received from another tom named Sam. All Sam had told him was that Sun had died.

Once, as a stray, she had relied on her instincts and skills as a hunter to survive. But after the ne

ws of her brother’s death, she found herself growing tired of the constant struggle for food. Instead of prowling the streets for prey, she began to frequent a bin outside a den where scraps of food were occasionally discarded.

One fateful day, the old human who lived in the den surprised her by leaving out a can of food specifically for her. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to her weary soul. The act of kindness sparked a glimmer of trust within her, and she tentatively allowed the human to approach and gently stroke her fur. In that moment, she felt a sense of connection and warmth that she had not experienced in a long time.

As days turned into weeks, the bond between Moon and the human deepened. She would eagerly await the human's return, craving the companionship and comfort they provided. But one day, the human did not return for several sunrises, leaving Moon feeling anxious and unsettled. When the human finally reappeared, a strange scent clung to them, one that set Moon's instincts on edge.

Despite the change in the human's demeanor, Moon sensed a vulnerability within them, a fragility that tugged at her heartstrings. Without hesitation, she followed the human inside the den, determined to offer her support and presence in whatever way she could.

—

She pushed the empty can to the bin where she saw the human put the empty cans, she couldn’t put it in but she left it next to it. Making her way to the living room, Moon found the old human seated on a worn couch, a book held gently in her hands. Without hesitation, Moon leaped onto the human's lap, purring contentedly as gentle fingers stroked her fur. The rhythmic motion was soothing, a familiar comfort that transcended words.

But something was different today. The human emitted a strange scent, one that lingered in the air and made Moon's sensitive nose twitch with unease. She had noticed this odd smell more frequently in recent days, accompanied by the sound of harsh coughing that rattled the human's frail form. Despite her instincts urging her to keep her distance, Moon stayed close, offering her silent companionship and solace in the gentlest of ways.

As she settled on the human's lap, the world outside the window transformed into a winter wonderland, snowflakes drifting lazily from the darkened sky to blanket the world in a soft, white embrace. Moon watched the delicate dance of snowflakes with half-lidded eyes, her mind drifting between wakefulness and slumber.

In that moment, nestled in the warmth of the human's lap, surrounded by the quiet beauty of the falling snow, Moon felt a surge of protectiveness and empathy towards the human. She knew that something was amiss, that the fragility of life hung heavy in the air, but she also understood the power of connection and compassion. Sleep slowly enveloped her.

Moon stepped through a green medow the air was pleasently warm, she looked up at the stars, there where so many stars, and they looked like they moved. So mesmerized by the stars she almost stepped into a stream. Her eyes widened as she stared at the water, it was colorful like an arura.

“Moon” she heard the voice but she couldn’t see the cat who spoke.

“Hello?” She called into the emptyness. She took a few steps back from the stream. “Who said that.” She called out.

In the distense she saw a faint outline of a cat, she ran towrd it. But before she could reach it she suddenly stumbled awake, falling off her human’s lap. The human was coughing violently, she jumped back onto the sofa and pressed herself to the human, there wasn’t much she could do for her knowing nothing about human sicknesses. Moon felt the tremors in her human's body, each cough shaking the frail frame. Panic clawed at her chest, and she nuzzled closer, as if her presence could somehow ease the human's pain. The night stretched on, each minute feeling like an eternity, until finally, the human's coughing subsided, replaced by a heavy, labored breathing.

Morning light filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on the room. The human's breathing was slow and shallow, and Moon sensed the life slipping away from the body that had provided her with so much love and care. She licked the human's hand, a final gesture of gratitude and affection.

As the human took her last breath, Moon let out a mournful yowl that echoed through the empty house. Her heart ached with a profound sadness, and she stayed by her human's side for hours, refusing to leave her even in death.

Eventually, as the sun began to set, Moon knew she had to move on. The world outside beckoned her back to the life she had known before. With one last look at the silent figure of her human, she leaped off the couch and made her way to the door, pushing it open with her nose.

She wandered through the familiar streets, now feeling a sense of emptiness that contrasted sharply with the bustling life around her. The city that had once been her home now felt cold and unwelcoming.

Leaving the city behind, Moon found herself on a vast moorland, the wind ruffling her fur as she walked. The scent of heather and earth filled her senses, a reminder of the freedom and independence she had always cherished. But now, it was tinged with a deep sense of loss.

As she wandered, she came across a group of cats. A calico she-cat with striking patches of color approached her first, her eyes filled with curiosity and caution.

"Who are you?" the calico asked.

"I'm Moon," she replied, her voice soft but steady. "I've lost my human."

The calico's gaze softened a bit. "I'm BrightShadow," she said. "And these are my friends, GoblinFang and SoundSight." She gestered to the other two cats with her.

GoblinFang, a small grayish-green and orange tom, stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning Moon with interest. "You've come far," he observed. “For a kittypet.”

Moon nodded. "I needed to get away," she admitted.

SoundSight, the cream and white tabby tom, came closer, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes, the journey is what heals us," he said gently. "You're welcome to stay with us, if you like. We love visteters"

Moon felt a flicker of hope in her chest. She looked at the three cats. "Thank you," she said, her voice stronger now. "I think I will."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the moorland, Moon stood with her new companions, feeling the stirrings of a new beginning. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope.

Just as she began to settle into this new reality, a distant sound caught her attention—a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver down her spine. The other cats heard it too, their ears pricking up in alarm.

"What was that?" Moon asked, her heart pounding.

BrightShadow's eyes were wide with fear. "A fox." she said quietly.

[i-fondued]

Kinktober 2022 | Ghost - Confessional

Confessional with Cardinal Copia is a little unique when it comes to one member of the Sisters of Sin, the real question who is confessing to who…

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Oral, squint and there is a fem!dom, public-ish sex, church sex??

A/N: This has lived in my head since the idea slid into my brain and I had to get it out before I had yet another dream about Copia. Solid PWP, with plenty of my dirty ex-catholic thoughts mixed in. This no-name Sister of Sin is going to end up being the main character of any of my Ghost writing going forward because I am so uncomfortable writing in a y/n style like the other stories I’ve been writing the last few days. I’ve also given up on trying for something every day as I am a full time working mom now and I have to eventually sleep…

Anyways!!! Enjoy!

AO3 Link HERE

The bells of the abbey tolled, the sound echoing off the stone of the abbey that housed the church of satan. Thirteen chimes, a nod to his darkness below but also the way to tell us siblings of sin that our day of studies were over for the day. 

I stood from my spot deep in the abbey’s large library, surrounded by dusty tomes that I had been entrusted to translate from old world Latin to English, and stretched. The sound of my back cracking practically echoed in the quiet hall. 

“Buongiorno, Sister.”

I jumped slightly, used to being left alone to focus on my task, and looked towards the person who spoke. Standing with his hands wringing together softly, the sound of black leather squeaking made me smile softly. This man, who looked so unsure of himself and was barely able to keep his mismatched eyes on me, was dressed in his red cassock today. His traditional face paint a stark contrast against his pale skin. His beretta was perched on top of his head, slightly askew. I walked over to him and reached up to adjust his hat, hand sliding to caress his cheek softly.

“Afternoon, Cardinal.” I smiled at him, his cheeks flushing instantly as I touched his face. “What can I help you with?”

“S-sister Imperator asked that I check in on the sisters who haven’t had a confessional in a few months.” He spoke quietly, his hands flinching toward mine at my sides before thinking better of it. “You’ve gone the longest, she’d like you to come to me after dinner this evening.”

“Ah, of course. I’ve been preoccupied with all my translations and research recently.” I turned away from him, stepping out of his range just as Copia lost the battle of wills and his hand slipped to my waist. “Shall I meet you in the confessional booth at 7?”

I turned back to look at him, eyes locked on him and he nodded mutely. I smiled again at him, turning back to my work at the table and bending over to move things around. I could hear his breathing increase just slightly as I bent over, giving him a better look at my curves as I collected my work in its proper folders. “I’ll see you then, Cardinal.”

~*~

Dinner was a calm affair for once, Papa Emeritus III was currently on tour with his band of nameless ghouls. The abbey felt empty without his presence home and with less ghouls prowling around the halls the dinner went smoother than it had in a long time. 

Every so often my eyes would drift up to the long head table where the prior Papas sat, Copia on the end next to Sister Imperator. His mismatched eyes would lock on mine and I could feel a blush spread over my cheeks. My table mates none the wiser to who I was eyeing at the table, talking amongst themselves. When the plates were being cleared, some siblings tucked in for the post dinner desserts and coffee time before curfew, I excused myself from the table and slipped from the room. 

I darted down the hallways to the vestibule prior to our large worship hall we used for Sunday night masses and holiday mass. I saw the door to the confessional was closed and I smirked, my hands reaching up to slip the Bobby pins from my habit. I knocked twice and the grate slid to the side; a familiar pair of dark rimmed eyes locked with mine. 

“Evening Cardinal.”

“Sister.”

The door opened a fraction and I had barely the space to slip into the tiny room, not much bigger than a broom closet. Along the back wall was a bench where a member of the clergy would sit to listen to the confessions of the siblings of sin and ghouls during working hours. There was a small glass window on the wall as well, the pane tinted red caused the small space to feel bathed in blood. Combined with the constant smell of thick incense and the smoke of the candles it gave the space a heady feeling. 

The door to the space had barely closed before Copia was on me, my back slamming against the wall across from the other empty confessional room. His hand yanked the habit from my head, my hair spilling from its confines, and his fingers instantly tangled in the strands. I moaned softly as his painted lips pressed frantically against mine, his tongue brushing softly against my bottom lip. I let my tongue slip from my own mouth to tangle with his own, coaxing it to follow my own. My arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tugging gently on the longer strands at the base of his neck as we kissed. His hand came to settle at my waist and I could feel his fingers pressing into the flesh, likely to bruise if he kept up the pressure. 

“Cardinal…” I moaned, tilting my head to the side to take a breath and his lips traveled down the column of my neck leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. His teeth nipped at the pulse just under my ear and I couldn’t help the way it made my hips jump forward to grind against his. 

He parted his cassock and slid his right leg between my legs, pressing his knee up against my core as I soaked through my underwear. I rolled my hips against his thigh, a shutter running through me as heat pooled in my belly. My nails dug into Copia’s neck and hair, my back arching against the wall and thrusting my chest into his.

“S-sister.” Copia groaned, forehead resting against my shoulder as he rolled his hips against mine. I could feel how hard he was already and a thrill shot down my spine.

“Touch me, Cardinal.” I hissed, taking his hand to press against my breasts. Like the good student he was, he understood instantly. 

His fingers brushed against my hardening nipple through my bra and robes. He shuttered quietly, still rubbing himself against my hip as I rode his thigh absentmindedly. He rolled the bud between his fingertips and I hissed under my breath before my hand cupped his cheeks, pulling him up to kiss him fiercely. It was getting hot in this tiny room, I could feel sweat sticking the back of my robes to my skin and I could see how red Copia’s face was even in the rose colored room. I could see the thick pain around his eyes wobbled faintly, I couldn’t imagine how hot he was in the layers of wool he was wearing. 

Pulling my lips away from his I focused on pushing the biretta off his head, flinging it to the bench to our right. Next I pulled off his caplet, then I tugged at his long belt with its intricately beaded grucifix and tossed it to the side. The heat of the room felt sweltering suddenly as Copia pushed forward, lips coming back to suck and nip at my neck while grinding against me. I moaned quietly as my fingers started to undo the many buttons of his cassock, fingers deftly starting at his neck before pushing against him to give me space to undo more of the buttons. When I reached his waist he took over, seemingly just as impatient as me for my touch on his bare skin. Quickly he shrugged out of the heavy wool coat and tossed it to the side. 

Under the cassock he wore tight fitting trousers, leaving nothing to the imagination of what his cock looked like as it strained against the stiff fabric. He wore a black button up with black suspenders to hold his trousers up. My fingers twitched and I could help but to softly run my fingers against his straining cock, his whole body shuttered and he groaned into my neck, bucking softly in my hand. 

“F-fanculo…Sister.” He whimpered, his hands tugging at my own robes. I grabbed his wrists and he paused, his one white eye practically glowing in the low light. “Per favore, let me touch you.”

“I want you to taste me, Cardinal.” 

Copia’s eyes blew wide, surprise written on his face, as a deep red blush spread across his cheeks and spread down his neck. There was a squeak that slipped past his lips as every joint in his body locked up. Eagerly he nodded before dropping to his knees in front of me. His chest looked like it was heaving as he locked his gaze with me, my own cheeks flushing as I watched him push my skirts up my thighs. I grabbed the fabric and pulled it up to tuck into the band of my bra, I knew I wanted to make sure my hands were free to be able to slide my fingers in his hair. 

Copia brushed gentle kisses against my skin, his tongue slipping out to taste my skin as he went. His fingers hooked around the waistband of panties, letting his fingernail scrape softly against the sensible skin near my hips as he pulled the scrap of fabric till it fell down my legs. He paused, allowing me to step out of them and kick them to the side before he greedily threw my left leg over his shoulder. My breath came in short bursts as I felt his fingers teasingly run against my outer lips, I couldn’t help but whimper as I bucked against his fingers. He teased me for a few moments, his breath softly brushing against my bare inner thighs as he watched with hooded eyes as his fingers slid back and forth. 

He paused only for a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the very inside of my thighs before I felt his fingers spread me open before his tongue brush against me in one long languid brush. My head fell back, thudding against the wood of the wall, and my fingers tangled in his hair as he began to tease my entrance with the tip of his tongue. His lips descended against me, pressing a kiss as his tongue swirled my clit for the first time. My hips bucked against his face, his nose buried in my curls between my legs, his eyes looking up at my flushed face. 

“Oh…Copia.” I moaned, nails digging slightly into his scalp as I pulled him closer to me, grinding against his face as he sucked at my clit. He hummed in approval, fingers gently slipping inside me. One then two, his fingers curling inside me causing a whole shudder to roll through me. 

The cardinal’s tongue set a rigorous pace, the tip flicking against my clit before he sucked it into his mouth while his fingers plunged in and out of me. I could feel the pleasure pooling in my belly as I rode his face, his mustache rubbing roughly against my inner thighs as I failed to not squeeze his head. His mismatched gaze turned on me, my own vision practically cloudy while I fought to keep my breath under control and my voice low. His eyes were locked on mine and I felt pinned by the pure lust in his eyes. I felt his free hand snake around my thigh, gripping almost painfully, before I felt him add a third finger. I groaned. loudly before shoving my free hand in between my teeth, muffling the noises as best as possible while my eyes rolled into the back of my head. 

“C-copia, don’t stop…” I hissed, tugging on his hair roughly as my orgasm began to come on fast. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Two more thrusts and a swirl of my clit with his tongue and I bit down on my fist so hard I thought I was going to break the skin; my hips grinding roughly against Copia’s face while I rode out my orgasam. I could feel my chest pounding, as my hands slipped from his hair to caress his cheek. I couldn’t help but to smile at him warmly, as he pulled back away from me. His face was soaked with the combination of my fluids and his spit, I watched with hooded eyes as he licked at his face before sucking his fingers into his mouth. His eyes never left my face. Ever the gentleman, he helped me get both feet down before standing. 

Gently, such a far cry from how fiercely he was just devouring me, he pressed his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his lips and I felt the flutter in my belly again as I shivered. As we kissed softly, I was well aware of something hot and hard pressed against my lower belly. Copia’s hands came to cup my face before slipping down to slide under my bra, fingers deftly manipulating my hard nipples. I pushed my chest into his greedy hands and I leaned forward to press my forehead against his shoulder. 

My hands drifted down to his cock, straining against his trousers. I cupped my hand against him and I felt him buck into my hand, whimpering in my ear as his fingers twitched and pinched my nipples. His hand slipped from my breasts to cup my face again, kissing me more forcefully this time and I matched his movements with that of my hand on his cock. He rolled his hips and suddenly I was impatient. I wanted him, the painful clench in my belly obvious to me now. I pushed away from him, the look in his eyes confused before I pushed him to sit on the bench. 

He looked up at me eagerly, his hands absentmindedly drifting to cup his cock as I pulled my robes over my head and unclasped my bra. His eyes drifted to my bare chest and I blushed slightly before I pushed at his suspenders, shoving them from his shoulders. I unbuttoned his trousers as well, pulling at them before he helped me slip them down his strong thighs. Copia’s hands came to rest on my hips as I moved to settle in his lap.

We started to kiss again, our tongues lazily curling around each other as I ground down against him. He met my hips with his own, I could feel the precum beading on his head against my belly. I couldn’t wait any longer and I sat up, gripping his thick cock as I guided him inside me. I sank all the way down on him, feeling my walls stretched by him and I threw my head back a hiss slipping from my lips. 

“Carina, s-sister.” Copia muttered, one hand gripping my hip while the other settled on my lower back to help with the angle we were sitting in. “Sei cosi stretto, fanculo.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I didn’t quite know all my Italian, so as I begun to move up and down on his cock I answered him by a searing kiss. Pressing my whole body against his, our bodies slick with sweat, I rode him like my life depended on it. I felt the cardinal begin to thrust up to match my pace as his hand gripped my waist firmly, moving my hips back and forth as we chased our orgasam in each other’s arms. His other hand slipped from the small of my back to the back of my head, tilting my neck to the side as he sunk his teeth into the sensitive flesh there. My arms snaked around his neck, fingers tangling in his messed up hair as I felt my orgasam beginning to build. 

“I’m so close, Copia…” I whimpered, rolling my hip with each of his thrusts. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around my back and flipped us so I was laying at an odd angle on the bench and he was on his knees on the floor. He took my leg and hooked it around his waist as he suddenly began thrusting into me hard enough I had to put my arms above my head to prevent my skull from slamming into the walls of the confessional.

His fingers slipped between our bodies and he quickly rubbed at my clit. I suddenly saw stars as my orgasam slammed into; I moaned loudly, my voice echoing in the antechamber due to the volume. Copia’s hand flew up to cover my mouth as he grunted, his hips snapping up to meet mine at a punishing pace. A few more erratic thrusts and he surged forward, his lips crashing into mine so forcefully I felt our teeth clink together. 

I could feel him release inside of me, his whole body shuddering and taut as we both fought to catch our breaths. He rested his head on my chest, pressing lazy kisses on my bare skin and I couldn’t help but to gaze at him fondly. My fingers brushed against the top of his head, practically petting him which was even more surreal when it felt like he was practically purring. I have no idea how long we stayed like that but it wasn’t long enough. The gently gong of the bells signaled final lights out in the siblings quarters; meaning it was just after eleven in the evening.

“I’ve got to go Cardinal…” I sighed softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of his head. He didn’t say anything, he rarely did after the haze of lust faded and we had to part.

Slowly but softly, we helped each other dress again. I made sure that Copia’s biretta was on correctly, his clergy paints were a whole other story. Between the steamy conditions in the room and our vigorous activities, there were plenty of places where the black paints had migrated. I smiled affectionately at him before leaning in to kiss him softly, his hands sliding up to tangle in my hair before I pulled away and pulled on my habit to cover my hair.

“Thank you, Cardinal, for hearing my confessional.”

“Of course, Sister. Please come see me anytime you need to confess your sins.”

“Yes Sir, have a wonderful evening.”

[the-lonelybarricade]

We're all onboard with the fact that these Rhysweek fics are fresh off my brain and unedited right? It's midnight here and I want to go to bed, but here's a loose continuation of Can't Keep My Hands to Myself. I know some of us have been wanting Daddy Rhys to return for a long time, he's finally here 😌

(You don't have to read part 1 first, this is literally all porn)

Rhysweek Day 6: Daddy Rhys

Word Count: 2.2k

CW: Daddy Kink, Sugar Daddies, Dom/Sub

-

It’s okay to accept nice things.

It’s okay to accept nice things, especially on your birthday.

It’s okay to accept nice things on your birthday, especially when they are willingly given to you by rich men.

It’s what Feyre told herself as she was led past a concierge, up an elevator, and to the ornate door of a fifth floor, luxury apartment. Hers to use because the man trailing behind her happened to like the way she looked in a dress.

And outside of one.

“Welcome home,” he murmured, once the door shut behind them. He had his suit jacket slung over his shoulder, hooked around two long, elegant fingers that were posed perfectly so that she could imagine another use for them. Rhysand leaned over to latch the door shut, rolled cuffs showing off his golden, muscular forearms with a flourish she might have thought purposeful.

When he turned back to face her, violet eyes sparkling with amusement, she was reminded that everything Rhysand did was purposeful.

They hovered in the entryway, staring at each other until the walls felt tighter.

“Do I get a tour?” She asked lightly.

Rhysand dropped his jacket. She watched it fall into a puddle of fine fabric, and she couldn’t help thinking about all the creases that would mark his once perfectly pressed suit. Was it carelessness?

Her heart hammered, knowing the answer as Rhys prowled closer.

Feyre could imagine it. If he’d gone home alone, he would have hung his suit up carefully. Would have folded his trousers and left them in a press. Unclasped his watch, putting neatly in place by his bedside drawer. He struck her as a man of precision.

And yet the fabric was crumpled. Not in carelessness, not in haste.

In a show of… something else.

“Do you want a tour?” He asked, close enough he could reach forward and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

Did she want a tour? Not particularly. The only place she cared to know the direction to was the bedroom. But she’d be living here now, and she supposed it was polite to take an interest when Rhysand was being so generous in letting her stay.

Eventually she succumbed beneath the weight of his stare. There was so much expectation in his eyes, but she couldn’t decide which answer he was hoping for. “Yes,” she breathed.

Rhysand raised a single brow, stepping closer. Whiskey lingered on his breath, and she could still see the lipstick stains she’d left on his neck in the limo. “It may be your birthday, Feyre, but that’s no reason to forget your manners. Yes, what?”

Please, she thought. But the dark tint in his eyes told her that wasn’t the right answer.

“Yes, daddy.”

His smile bloomed, slow and deadly. As soft as nightshade petals.

Warm hands fell to her hips, and despite the wickedness glinting in his eyes Feyre felt giddy at his silent approval. He slid his palm flat against her back, applying firm enough pleasure to guide her body into an arch. So that she was half leaning backwards, into his hold, and the entire front of her body was pressed against his.

Heat seeped through his dress clothes, and they were cut close enough to his body that she could feel every hard slant and coil of muscle. He wasn’t real, people like this couldn’t be real.

But that was breath tickling her skin, light stubble scratching over her cheek as he whispered in her ear. “How’s this for a tour, Feyre? I’m going to make you come in every single room. And once we’re finished, I’ll let you ride daddy’s cock as a special birthday treat.”

Feyre wanted so desperately to think of something clever to say. Perhaps that a cock hardly qualified as a birthday treat, or how this tour sounded like it was going to be horribly ineffective.

Instead her eyes fell back to that abandoned suit jacket. And her voice wavered, despite her efforts to keep it steady, as she asked, “Does this room count?”

Really, what had she expected from a man like Rhysand? Who communicated through throwing clothes on the ground and buying coffee from the same cafe every day? He seemed to find his actions just as effective as his words.

So when he used his grip on her back to roughly turn her around and push her against the wall, she had her answer. And when he bunched her dress over her hips and yanked her underwear to her knees, he had his answer, too.

“You’re so wet,” he said in her ear, almost like an admonishment. Except she couldn’t hear the hum of satisfaction in the back of his throat. “Is this from sucking me off in the limo, Feyre? You like the taste of daddy’s cock that much?”

He groaned, slipping his fingers lazily down her center. Until he teased at her entrance. “No wonder you made such a mess of my thigh.”

“Is that unusual?” Feyre couldn’t help herself from asking, if only to feel better about the way she was pinned to a strange man’s wall. “Are you used to women being dry around you?”

Rhysand chuckled. Deep and dark and scraping. The sound shuddered all the way down her spine, warning her not to push. Begging her to see what happened if she did. “Careful,” he warned. “It would be a shame if our fun was spoiled. Don’t you agree, darling?”

His fingers slipped inside her, hooked just like they’d been around his suit jacket. He massaged them against her walls with a mastery that felt almost cruel, until he was half holding her up from how badly her legs had begun to shake.

She gasped, clawing her fingers into the drywall. She was still feeling sensitive from riding his thigh in the limo. With the way he cupped her, his palm was rubbing against her clit in deliberately slow circles that were driving her mad.

She whimpered as his fingers stilled, and he kept his palm pressed just enough to tease. Feyre squirmed, bucking her hips for better friction, but Rhys clicked his tongue and removed his fingers entirely.

“Behave, Feyre.” he growled. “What do you say if you want to come?”

She pressed her forehead against the wall, feeling the cold plaster cast its blank judgment back at her. “Please,” she whispered.

“Please what?”

“Help me come,” she said, cheeks burning.

A hand snaked up from where he held her hips to suddenly cover her mouth. Feyre was confused for a moment, until Rhysand used his thumb and forefinger to flick her clit. Hard. Enough for a shriek to be muffled into the palm of his hand.

“Only good girls get pleasure,” he said. “Do you want to try again?”

Feyre nodded, wondering what it said about her that she enjoyed this unexpected edge of cruelty. It was almost a relief.

He released his hand so she could speak. And she thought the cool air felt so much less welcoming than his warm hand and the scent of his cologne. She whispered, “Please help me come, daddy.”

“Better,” he hummed, fingers immediately returning to her still throbbing clit, rubbing away the pain. Soothing it with white hot bliss that built so fast—too fast. Her breathing ratcheted, and she could hear the smirk in Rhysand’s voice as he purred, “That’s it, Feyre. Come for daddy.”

Those exquisite fingers rode her through it, working her until it bordered on too much, and she was near crying against the wall. Then, Rhysand swept her into his arms, ignoring the way her breath whooshed in surprise. He carried her into what looked to be the kitchen. All smooth, marble countertops and luxury appliances. But he didn’t stop to show them to her.

Instead he walked straight towards the island in the center and deposited her atop it, so that her knees hung off the end. Her dress was still pulled over her hips, her panties still banded around her knees, and she could see Rhysand’s predatory stare looming over her.

“I’ve wanted to do this from the moment I came into that coffee shop,” he said, running his hands beneath her thighs. He pulled them up as he made his way to her calves, then her ankles, where he laid a delicate kiss on each side. “I’ve been wanting to taste every inch of you.”

His ascent was torturously slow compared to the urgency he’d used in the hallway. His deliciously plush lips trailed over her legs, counting each freckle, stopping at every crevice. When he said every inch, he clearly meant it.

Feyre was beginning to feel impatient by the time he came to her thighs. Rhysand was holding her legs, so the most she could do was buck into the air, silently begging for him to turn his attention to where she desperately needed it.

As some form of acquiesence, he extended his arm to slide a single finger inside of her. But he refused to do anything further, and that only made the ache worse. She whimpered, trying to ride his hand herself if he was insistent on taking so much time.

“Slow down, pretty girl,” he said, swiping his thumb against her oversensitive clit. She gasped at the stab of pleasure, and couldn’t decide if he had done it in mercy or malice. “You’ll find that patience gets rewarded.”

Feyre managed to find enough breath to ask, “And impatience? What does that get?”

Rhysand had gone back to mouthing at her thigh, but his eyes darkened at her question. He pulled away just enough to offer a smirk that dared her to try.

“If it weren’t your birthday, it’d get you something to occupy that sharp tongue of yours.”

Gods, what was wrong with her, that his implication made her stomach flutter? Her walls clenched around his finger, completely giving herself away.

Rhys chuckled, the sound smooth and dark where it glided sensually across her every nerve—so similar in feeling to the scrape of his calluses against her thigh.

“Would you like that, pet? Are you wanting something to choke and whimper against while daddy takes his time savouring you?”

His finger slid out, and Feyre couldn’t help whimpering at the loss. She felt empty, her cunt clenching around nothing while Rhys traveled up her body until her vision was eclipsed by those striking violet eyes.

“All you have to do is ask, Feyre. I would deny my sweet birthday girl nothing.”

Rhys raised his fingers, still slick with her arousal, and brought them to his mouth once more, just like he’d done in the limo. He held her gaze as he slowly ran his tongue over each of them.

“Fucking delicious, Feyre,” he said as he pulled his fingers away. Then he grinned, the same way Lucifer must have moments before he fell. “Do you want a taste, baby?”

Feyre bit her lip in consideration, but caved the moment his fingertips found the plush of her bottom lip. She parted easily for him, and Rhys watched through hooded eyes as he pushed three fingers into her mouth, all the way to his knuckles. She flicked her tongue against them and sucked obediently, if only to see the resulting praise and desire that swirled in Rhysand’s starkissed eyes.

“Such a good girl. That deserves a reward, hmm? But keep sucking for me, darling. And don’t be afraid to moan against them and let daddy know how good he’s making you feel.”

With that, Rhys brought his freehand between her parted legs and plunged two fingers back inside her. The sound of his skin slipping against her arousal was utterly debauched, but Feyre thought it wasn’t nearly so lewd as the sound that escaped her, garbled against his fingers.

He was building her pleasure quickly, seemingly driven by the way Feyre hummed and choked agaist the hand in her mouth, drool dripping from the seam of where her lips enclosed his knuckles.

“Such a beautiful mess like this, Feyre,” he cooed in her ear. “Already wet and drooling and I haven’t even gotten out of my suit yet.”

Feyre was too focused on the building tension in her body to think too closely on his words, already feeling wrecked from everything else he’d done.

She shrieked against his fingers as she felt herself reach the pinnacle, bucking her hips in an involuntary attempt to get closer. Hot ecstasy flashed through her veins, building and building until it was too much. Surely, she could die from this level of intensity?

Her vision swam, and somewhere faraway she felt Rhys press a kiss to her temple and murmur, “That’s it, Feyre. Come for daddy one more time.”

The world fractured, splitting into irreparable shards, taking apart what used to be her life and threading it something entirely new. Foreign, but safe. Like the way Rhys whispered endless praise into her ear, fingers slowing where they circled her clit, guiding her gently down.

“Breathe, Feyre,” he said softly, removing his fingers from her mouth so that she could take a gasping breath, then another one, over and over until the rhythm of her breathing had steadied.

Rhys stared down at her, eyes softened with awe. “How are you feeling, darling?”

“Incredible,” she breathed.

Feyre could hear the smile in his voice as he answered, “Good.”

He helped her off the table, holding her as though he knew how shaky her legs would feel. He was smiling. “There’s just one more room I need to show you."

And she followed Rhysand into the bedroom.

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Lee Jaehyun (Hyunjae) - Intoxicated [Requested]

Request: dom Hyunjae + overstimulation

badboy! ceo! Hyunjae x PA! fem! reader

Warnings: petnames, dirty talk, slight degradation, a lot of grinding lol, some choking, Hyunjae is a narcissist here

Finally finished this one for @jaepocket ! Thanks for requesting, I hope you like it 💕hope you don't mind that I made Hyunjae an asshole lol

Work parties have taken a toll on your boss, and as the best personal assistant in the world, you help him home.

You kept a watchful eye over your boss throughout the Christmas party. Year-end parties were lined up back-to-back for the most influential entrepreneur under 30 in Seoul. Jaehyun was being extra charming tonight, wooing men and women alike with his dazzling smile, charisma, and powerful aura. He knew he was untouchable, and it showed in his walk. Long legs that could rival any model, perfectly coiffed light brown hair, and a designer tailored suit hugging him in all the right places, showing off his broad shoulders. He glances over to you, and shoots you a wry smile from across the room. No one else might have noticed, despite the fact that everyone who spoke to him couldn't take their eyes off him, but a subtle flush dusted his cheeks and there was a slight glassiness in his eyes that alerted you. Jaehyun has definitely had too much to drink. You stride over to him, and he politely excuses himself from the flock of older women giggling and sidling up to him, and meets you halfway on the dance floor.

He walks to you with a slight wobble, and reaches out to steady himself... by grabbing your hips. "Hey you," he grins, thumbs softly rubbing your waist through the thin material of your dress. You resist the shiver that runs down your spine, the warmth emanating from his hands a welcome sensation since the place was freezing. A mansion full of people and it was still cold? The hosts hadn't bothered to turn the heaters on. That's probably how the rich stay rich, you supposed. It definitely didn't help that you were wearing a skin-tight cocktail dress, with a little slit up the thigh. "Sir, I think you've had enough to drink tonight," you murmur, gently tucking a lock of golden hair back into place. Jaehyun grimaced. He had a glass of wine with every group that approached him that night, and he wasn't feeling too well now, considering everyone wanted to meet with the Lee Jaehyun™, one of Seoul's most prominent and eligible bachelors.

"Let's get you home then, sir, you really need some rest. Or rather, your liver does," you sigh, offering your arm for him to hold on to so he doesn't fall flat on his face in public, possibly ruining his reputation. He lets out a hearty laugh, and intertwines his arm with yours, trying to maintain a power walk out of the place, nodding at other party-goers that greet him in passing. He gratefully gulps the fresh air outside as you wait for his chauffeur to pull up in his stupidly expensive limousine, helping him to clamber gracefully into the backseat once it arrives. You're about to shut the door to book a ride home for yourself when he tugs on your arm, a blazing fire in his eyes as he looks up at you, and you know he wants you to come home with him tonight.

You glance around quickly, making sure no one is watching you get into the car with him, but really, who would question a PA ensuring that her drunken boss gets home safely? You quietly slip into the plush leather seats, leaving a space between you two just in case he feels stuffy or nauseous. Jaehyun roughly loosens his tie, and you can't help but stare at his large, veiny hands. Before you can snap out of it, he catches your eye and smirks, using those very hands to yank you closer, almost sitting on his lap. You yelp in surprise, your hands flying up to his broad shoulders. He smashes his lips onto yours, messy with tongue and teeth and a moan escapes you when you taste the sweet alcohol on his tongue. His warm hands roam all over your body, deftly pulling up the hem of your short dress so he can run his hands up your thighs and grope your plump behind. "Been staring at your ass all night, who said you could wear a dress like this?" he growls against your lips, squeezing the flesh tightly to prove his point.

You weakly push him away, and he stares at you, offended that you don't seem to want him, when you're usually so pliant and obedient for him. "I don't think we should do this, sir, you're not thinking straight," you stutter. Jaehyun barks out a laugh, startling you. "Am I? I'm not drunk, kitten, I only spoke and acted like that so we could get out of that damned party. And maybe I'm not thinking straight, because all I've been thinking about the whole time is ripping that fucking dress off your body, you fucking minx," he snarls, grabbing you again and manhandling you to straddle his lap, sounding completely clear and level-headed. He had everyone fooled; even you, and a crushing disappointment engulfs your heart.

You don't get to feel sorry for yourself though, because Jaehyun is pulling you close, grinding the obvious bulge in his slacks against your clothed pussy as he makes out with you again. You let him run his hands all over you, feeling his lips trail down the side of your lips and down your neck, smudging your lipstick everywhere. Jaehyun doesn't care, clearly, he just wants to make a mess out of you, and you gladly let him, both of you so absorbed in each other that you didn't feel the car roll to a stop. You hadn't even noticed the opaque partition had been pulled up until you heard the electronic buzz of it being lowered, and the indifferent voice of the chauffeur came through. "We've arrived at your destination, sir and miss."

Without so much as a thank you, Jaehyun flings the door open and tugs you into the building's lobby. He owns the whole building obviously, but he lives in the penthouse suite, swiping his keycard to unlock his private elevator. He wastes no time attaching his lips to the back of your neck as he presses you up against the walls of the elevator, grinding on your ass the whole way up. He leaves you panting when the doors open, and he goes to punch in his keycode. The lock beeps, and Jaehyun snarls when he's halfway through the door and you're still lagging behind, knees too wobbly to walk properly thanks to his earlier ministrations. "What are you waiting for kitten?" You shake your head, embarrassed that sloppy make-outs and grinding like lovesick teenagers is enough to make your head spin.

Jaehyun strides towards the bedroom, stripping his expensive clothes as he went, but instead of making a right turn to the master bedroom as he usually does, he makes a left to the guest bedroom. You don't have time to ponder, because he's pulling you in and shoving you onto the bed, dark eyes staring you down as he fumbles with his belt. The intensity of his gaze makes you tremble. Is it from fear, excitement, or a morbid combination of both? He finally gets all his clothes off, and his hard cock is swinging heavily with every step he takes towards the bed. He prowls, like a predator, and you're too petrified to even strip or prepare yourself, but apparently that didn't matter to him.

"You still on the pill?" Jaehyun demands, and you nod feverishly. "Good." And with that he rips your lacy panties off in one fluid motion, and hikes your dress up to bunch up around your waist. You hear the material rip, but before you could bemoan the hefty price tag, Jaehyun slides his throbbing cock inside you, making you arch your back as you moan loudly at the intrusion. He gives you barely any time to adjust, knowing how much you like taking it raw, and starts thrusting harshly. You can't help but moan loudly, almost going cross-eyed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. You clamp a hand over your mouth when a particularly shrill moan slips from your lips, but Jaehyun tugs it away, wanting to hear how good he makes you feel. It's nothing more than an ego boost for him, but you comply.

Jaehyun gets sick of missionary fairly quickly. He does enjoy seeing your pretty face contort with pleasure, and watch your makeup run. But he likes fucking you from the back even more, loves the way you get on all fours for him, loves the way your ass jiggles when he spanks you, and loves how your legs give way when he's done making you see stars. He pulls out for a moment, flipping you over onto your hands and knees easily, ignoring the surprised gasp you make when he shoves his cock back into you. He picks up the pace, hitting your g-spot dead-on with this new angle. He wraps a hand around your throat, the expensive gold bands adorning his fingers pressing delightfully into your windpipe. He squeezes lightly as he slams into your core, and you scream, climaxing without warning.

The sudden clench around Jaehyun's dick has him swearing lowly. "Did I say you could cum, kitten? You know you have to ask for permission," he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm, maintaining his relentless pace. Your head is foggy, and you try to apologize, but every sharp thrust Jaehyun makes cuts your words off. He doesn't let up, using you to chase his own climax, slightly aggravated by yours. He presses down the middle of your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the sheets so you're not holding yourself up with your hands anymore. You're grateful, because you can barely support yourself anymore, and you need a break. Except he doesn't give you one, hoisting you up by the hips to pummel even faster and harder into you, and your upper half is practically dragging along the sheets with every snap of his hips.

The delightfully torturous graze of silk sheets against your raw nipples, and the rough pads of Jaehyun's fingers relentlessly abusing your swollen clit sends you teteering close to the edge again. You can't cum, no, you won't cum until he tells you to. You want to be good for him, even though you're so close to climax again that it hurts. You hold out, gripping the sheets so hard that your knuckles turn white, when a particularly hard press against your clit and a low growl of "Cum for me now, kitten" sends you screaming once more, vision turning white as your searing-hot orgasm rips through your body.

You barely register Jaehyun's groan as he continues grinding into your g-spot, your pussy clenching almost painfully tightly around him, milking his cock dry as he blows his load deep into your warmth. You collapse forward onto the bed, trembling from exhaustion, chest heaving desperately to replenish your lungs with oxygen. Your whole body is sore and you know it's probably going to be worse tomorrow, and dark fingerprints are going to decorate your skin too. Above you, Jaehyun is still holding your hips up, pulling out of you with a grunt, cock hanging limply as he pants harshly. He watches idly as his cum drips out of your abused cunt, trickling down your legs, and drops your legs unceremoniously.

He stretches his legs, and gathers his sweat-drenched, possibly cum-stained designer clothing off the floor as he walks towards the door. "Clean yourself up, you know where everything is. I need you in the office early tomorrow morning." Jaehyun utters without so much as a glance back at your naked body, and the door shuts behind him with a loud click that echoes through the suddenly cold room. You hear him humming to himself and drawing a bath, and you shut your eyes, trying to suppress a sob at how horrible you feel, both physically and emotionally. Sex with Jaehyun was always hot, rough and mind-blowing, but recently you realize you always felt empty afterwards. Because he'll immediately turn cold once he's gotten his fix, leaving you to clean up after yourself and sometimes even make you hail a cab to go home afterwards. At least tonight he let you stay over, even though it's in the cum-stained bed in the guest room, without any post-coital care.

As you lay there, fresh hot tears stream down your cheeks, and you wonder if all the alcohol in the world could wash away the pain you felt of being used as Jaehyun's personal fucktoy; manipulating you into catering to his every whim and then carelessly throwing you aside once he's done.

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: A Wild Woman 1/1

Title: A Wild Woman

Summary: By Victorian Standards, you are considered the dreaded Wild Woman! Your aunt and uncle threaten to disown you and turn you out into the streets unless you agree to a little re-education on how to be a proper lady.

Rating: Mature, fluff, Soft Dom Sherlock!Henry, sex, unconventional

Pairing: Sherlock x YOU

Note: This was inspired by  "A wild woman brought up a wild child. We'll make her acceptable for society." from the EH trailer.

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Your Aunt and Uncle had had enough of you. They were fed up with your lack of female decorum and your absolute insistence to star gaze, associate with male aeronauts and start fires from chemistry experiments gone awry. But you couldn't help yourself. After the scandal of the woman who attempted to join the Chemistry Society a few years back, you had been forever changed. Women could do anything and you were intent on grabbing that elusive gold ring. If that meant attending boisterous underground resistance meetings, or not wearing your corset, then so be it.

Unfortunately, your family did not see it that way. To them, you were a wild woman who had no place in decent Victorian society.

One gloomy autumn evening, when your uncle returned from the gentleman's club, he sat both you and your aunt down at the dining room table for a talk.

Your uncle then gave you a choice.

Well, it was a choice between scylla and charybdis, but a choice nonetheless.

You were either to be turned out into the street to fend for yourself, with no money and no prospects and definitely no husband, or you were to travel to London to be kept, re-educated and made acceptable to be returned to society by a pair of reputable brothers who promised to produce reputable ladies.

What could you do, but agree to the latter, as the former was a nightmare you never wanted to experience.

So you made the long involuntary train-trek cross country to London.

The man who met you at the train station was tall, and slim with a well-manicured moustache that curled up at the ends in the most fashionable way. When he reached for your single suitcase and turned to walk away, you followed without protest.

**

Baker Street was a short narrow avenue that seemed unnecessarily busy for so early in the morning, and when the Hansom slowed, your companion opened the door and hopped out. He offered his gloved hand, which you took and followed him to the ground.

The cab rode off and gently taking you by the arm, the man guided you across the road. He walked up the steps to a dark painted door with the numbers 221b etched on a half-moon of glass above it.  He led you inside and up the stairs to a room at the end of a long corridor.

It was a well-appointed room. Against the wall was a large bed with a patchwork cover flanked by two low dark wood tables upon which sat twin lamps with beaded green lampshades. To the left, a tall window brought in the hazy morning light and illuminating the small writing desk beneath it.  There was also a large wardrobe stood in one corner opposite a bookshelf which was crammed with books.

'Your room, for the duration of your stay. I expect that it will be maintained without clutter.'

He then looked at you and slowly perused your form. You felt scandalised! No man had ever dared make his inspection of your body so plain before. Scandalised, yes, but a slow simmer of heat in your belly belied your inner outrage.

He humphed, and his  eyes moved to meet yours again.

'Sloppy,' he said. 'That you expect to be taken seriously, dressed like this is insulting.'

You opened your mouth and he lifted his brows, waiting for you to speak.

'I expect, sir, for you to watch your tongue when addressing me.'

He laughed quietly.

'My brother will be home shortly,' he said ignoring your protest. 'I believe you will be spending the evening in his company. Granted, he is less strict than I am, so don't get used to his...'

The man pinwheeled his hand in the air as if searching for the most appropriate word, but the opening and then the closing of the front door distracted him.

'Ah,' he murmured. 'He's come home early. Please wash thoroughly and change your clothes. I expect that you have something better than this?'

You narrowed your eyes.

'I will give you one hour and then come downstairs and into the study for inspection. The study is to the right at the bottom of the stairs. Have you... questions?'

'Do you intend to stand here and watch me wash and dress?'

He smiled and wordlessly turned to leave you to your task.

'We'll break you of that attitude,' he promised and closed the door behind him.

You wavered on your feet and collapsed on the fainting couch at the foot of the bed. You were breathless, excited, astounded that you were aroused by the man's quiet dominance.

'This is ridiculous girl!' you chided yourself aloud. 'This whole thing is ridiculous.'

But at least you were in London. You had promised your aunt and uncle that you would be 're-educated' and that you were going to come home the niece they always wanted so that you could be married off to the local farmer's son. What they didn't know, was that you were going to use the little stipend they'd provided and run away into the arms of the big city.

In the meantime, this was what you needed to do to get to where you needed to go.

You got up, stripped out of your travel clothes and inspected the pitcher and basin on the wash stand in the corner. There was water in the pitcher and a clean cloth hanging on the railing. There was also a lump of lanolin soap sitting on the side of the basin and you went about washing the dirt from your travels off of your skin. You didn't bother with a corset, or your stockings. You merely shrugged into your chemise, dress and shoes and went down to the study.

You stood at the closed door, humming with excitement and terror. What if this brother was a hunchback, with a mutilated face and was only gentle because his looks terrified everyone. What if he was old and decrepit and smelled of liniment! You wrinkled your nose at the thought and opened the door.

The study was beautiful, quiet and a fire burned in the small hearth. The walls were covered with dark tapestries and old maps. Books and newspapers were stacked everywhere, but it did not appear to be done in a chaotic manner. There was an order to this room and your heart clenched when your eyes fell on the man who was rising from the high wing-backed chair.

If Gods walked the earth, on a regular basis, you would not have been surprised by his appearance. He too was tall, like his brother, broad across the chest with a narrow waist and sturdy thighs.  He was in his shirtsleeves with a high starched white collar and dark brown tweed waistcoat and matching dress trousers.

And the curls. Oh the soft mass of chocolatey brown curls were stylish and clipped short and nicely complimented his handsome chiselled face.

'Turn around, please,' he said, his voice all honey and milk and you obeyed immediately.

'Face me again.'

You did so and he approached, hands clasped behind his back. He shook his head.

'You know this is unacceptable, don't you.'

It wasn't a question.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, you thought. You had practised on the long train ride to London. You knew exactly how you were going to respond and exactly what you were going to say. But your mind had gone blank and only silence came out of your sweet quivering mouth.

You lowered your gaze.

His dark shoes were buttoned neatly and had been shined carefully. He was obviously a man who cared about his appearance.

'I expect things from you, when you're under my roof. This shabbiness and unruly nature will not be permitted and if you continue to pursue these avenues, you will be...'

He trailed off, and began to walk in a slow circle around you, prowling, like a sleek beast and you couldn't help feeling helpless.

Like you were prey.

He stopped after one revolution and stood at your back. He was so close that the heat and scent of him engulfed you. You closed your eyes, and sweat broke out across your upper lip and brow.

He 'humphed', sounding just like his brother and stuck a finger against your side. You didn't dare squirm away from his examination and you held yourself taut.

'No corset,' he said, finding you soft and unrestrained beneath your clothes. 'And I wager, no stockings or combinations.'

You were silent and it seemed that the very silence was a living creature, pricking your skin.

'Answer me.'

'No, none of that.'

He took in a long breath and let it out slowly.

'Upstairs, now. Gather your undergarments and bring them here.'

You turned so fast that you nearly banged into him. But you managed to scurry round him, and dart up the stairs as fast as your legs beneath your full skirts would carry you. You blindly grabbed everything that you had and nearly tumbled back down the stairs in your haste to please this man, this stranger, who within moments of meeting him made you want to drop to your knees and worship his masculinity.

He was still standing in the same place where you left him, back straight, head up, elegant hands clasped behind his back.

Out of breath, you stood before him, arms full of undergarments and he smiled. That smile took your breath away. He directed you to dump your clothes on the nearby desk.

'Now,' he began, scholarly. 'The makings of a society appropriate lady, begins at her skin. Do you understand?'

You swallowed hard and nodded.

'Good. Now, remove your clothing. We have to start from the skin.'

There was heat in his voice, filled with a demand that brooked no argument, and with trembling hands, you unbuttoned your waistcoat, unpinned your skirt and shrugged out of your rough collared shirt until you stood there bare beneath your chemise.

You worked your hands together in front of you feeling damp between your legs and ready to show him everything that was private about you.You unlaced the chemise at the collar and let it fall.

He looked at you for a long time, appreciating you, drinking you in and he was very obviously pleased with you.

He pointed to the combinations lying in a heap on the desk.

'Combinations.'

Your combinations were in two pieces so you stepped into the split bottoms and pulled on the top.

'Now corset.'

You went back to the table. You had two corsets, and you looked to him for his opinion.

'Blue,' he said. 'It laces in the back.'

Normally, as you dressed yourself, your corsets (when you wore them) laced in the front. But this one, he chose purposefully. He wanted to have control over dressing you.

The blue one was already partially laced so all you had to do was pull it over your head and hold it in place. You turned your back to him and waited. He began to slowly tighten your laces, starting from the top and working his way down, one after the other after the other he pulled the narrow fabric through the eyelets closing the boned corset around you, trussing you like a tart and stealing your breath.

The corset was tight, but not overly so, just enough to make you realise that you liked it. He tied the remainder of the cord round your waist and tucked in the excess.

'Will you take it off me when it's time?' you breathed, lightheaded with arousal.

And he hummed a soft response.

Then followed your simple cream and blue coloured dress, which you stepped into with his help. It buttoned up the back and he took his time doing so.

After what seemed an eternity, he stepped away from you and mourning the loss of his heat, you watched him walk to the chair, turn and sit down.

'Come here, and bring your stockings and ribbon.'

Like a puppy, you followed and stood at his knee.

He took the stockings and thin blue ribbons and laid them across his lap.

'Right foot,' he murmured and patted the spot on his thigh where he wanted you to put it. 'Balance yourself on the chair if needed.'

You put a hand on the top of the wing back and sighed softly when he rolled up the first stocking and slid it on your foot and up your leg. You bit your lip, but you couldn't look away from the deft fingers that trailed fire along your skin. He tied the ribbon just below your knee and folded the top of the stocking over it.

'Left.'

You switched legs and he repeated the process, only this time after he had tied the ribbon and folded the stocking down, he held your calf with both hands and looked up at you.

'Now you are finished. Is there anything that I did that you did not understand?'

You shook your head, not trusting your voice to come out as anything but a squeak. He nodded to acknowledge your answer, paused, and then slid one hand up your calf, to your thigh and over the material of your combinations to where they split to reveal your tender sex. He lightly brushed his fingertips over your naked mound and you made a noise that was quite unbecoming of a society lady. Clapping a hand over your mouth, you did the only thing you ever wanted to do the moment you laid eyes on him; you widened your legs.

'I prefer an unruly woman,' he said, sliding one finger into your slick wet cunt. 'I think they have spirit.'

Whining, you grabbed onto the other side of the chair and leaned on it for support. He stroked your clit slowly, carefully, pushing back the swollen little hood and pinched it between his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and stars burst against the darkness. You were going to scream if he continued.

'Please,' you whispered, jerking your hips forward, encouraging his further exploration. 'Please... just please!'

He slid his fingers out of you and with his eyes still on your, he put those same fingers into his mouth.

A cry of frustration escaped you. You hiked your skirts and climbed onto his lap, giving him just enough room to unbutton the opening of his trousers and draw out his leaking cock. You took him in hand and he grabbed your hips and pressed back into the chair as you positioned yourself enough to sink slowly down onto him.

You leaned back into his hands, tipping your chin up and moaning loudly, voluptuously, clenching tightly around him, circling your hips to feel all of him filling you completely. He groaned quietly, much more subdued, but no less aroused and he looked up just as you looked down at him. You grabbed his exquisite face between your hands and kissed him, lapping eagerly into his delectable mouth, letting your body rise and fall as your cunt greedily devoured him.

You pushed your fingers into his soft curls, and held his head up, kissing and biting at his plush lips, riding him slowly at first, and then faster as the crescendo of desire and lust and pleasure crested then exploded inside you. Every part of you clamped down hard on him and you rocked and back and forth, milking the shuddering orgasm out of him.

It took a moment before the two of you finally relaxed from your shared high. Still holding his face, you kissed his cheeks and his forehead and his lips over and over until his softening cock slipped out of you. You sat back on his thighs and imagined his cum leaking out of you and onto your combinations.  You giggled at the dirty thought.

'I'm Sherlock,' he said after a long silence, looking up to meet your gaze.

'I'm... smitten,' you answered.

Maybe a little re-education wasn't such a bad thing.

-End

I hope you enjoyed it. Please like, share comment reblog all that good stuff. :)

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Little One (M)

Jung Hoseok Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: You find yourself in a position where you must choose between certainly addicting or below-average satisfaction for the rest of your life.

•••> Pairing(s): Hoseok/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Hey I was wondering if you could possibly do a Hoseok smut oneshot and like hes a super dom? Love you 💜”

•••> Word Count: 6.41k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | ceo!au(?) | office!au | Hoseok!AU | Strangers to Lovers | Dominant!Hoseok | Submissive!Reader | 

•••> Warnings: smut, slight impreg!kink, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, mention(s) of masturbation, slight choking/strangulation, spanking, dirty talk, slight mention(s) of BDSM, dom/little one relationship, hobi is filthy, but he’s also respectful, cursing, pining, mild stalking?, alcohol use

Copyright © 2020 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for the request, anon! Sorry, it took me like a week to get it done, but here it is! I hope you enjoy :) I didn’t go back and edit it so please excuse any mistakes.

~#~

The light from the chandeliers of the ballroom dimmed as the night came undeniably closer to its end.

The event was organized by your company- a Friday evening to relax and celebrate the closing of another fiscal year. The flurries of snow that dusted the sidewalks outside the venue served as a reminder that the year, in itself, was coming to an end too.

Smooth, Christmas-themed jazz music acted as a factor in your sleepy demeanor, relaxing you into a comfortable glow of warmth despite failing your mission.

You were here strictly on business; there was no time to mess around and slack off. A handful of flutes of champagne and a double pour of whiskey- which you hardly ever drank- were enough to relax you and make you confident in the success of your duty to find a proper suitor to make you cum tonight.

In the past, you had tried flings with acquaintances and a few friends, but they had turned out to be absolutely disdainful in the fact that, despite them, you had only cum twice at the hands of another in the last year and a half. Instead, you wanted to give a one night stand a try- purely for research purposes, of course. Who knew? Maybe you were into the riskiness and detachment of it all.

As the hours passed, however, you found yourself slowly resorting to the quiet and dark corners of the room, sipping on another flute of champagne in hopeless surrender with your warm buzz fading pathetically.

Unbeknownst to you, a set of dark eyes had been tracking you for a good portion of the evening. On the prowl for its prey, the owner of those eyes weighed the options sat before him, but he needed to make sure you were alone before he could risk indulging too far.

There was no ring on your finger; no one bringing you a drink; no one you interacted with longer than a short greeting and the occasional hug.

It didn’t take him very long to realize that you were incredibly and unbelievably by your lonesome.

He couldn’t help the smirk from pulling up the corner of his lips while his friends spoke loudly around him. From his seat at the table, he had a perfect view of where you stood in the shadows, however, staring too hard could prove to be the downfall of his plan as he did not want to get caught. Instead, the glass of scotch in his hand held his gaze while he rolled the sphere of ice around it in thought. He would have to be patient.

He recognized the look of defeat when he saw one. He read the way your flawless lips had slowly formed a permanent scowl of self-pity as the minutes turned into hours.

What a pitiful look on such a gorgeous little thing. He mused in thought.

By the time your phone read 12:45 am, you accepted defeat in its ugliest form. Shoulders no longer held back with your chest out and back no longer purposely arched to attract anyone, you allowed yourself to slouch.

Fuck it. You thought. Guess it’s just another date night with my magic wand.

Sourly, you left the large room to retrieve your dress coat from the coat check counter, pulling out your phone to order your Uber once you gave the desk man your ticket.

In your hunt for a ride and the slight tipsiness of alcohol still in your system, you failed to notice the presence of someone behind you.

“Excuse me, Miss.“ You jumped, knees slightly buckling in the process, and turned to find a slightly familiar man dressed in a finely-tailored Armani suit standing behind you.

“Jesus.” You mumbled before speaking up. “You scared me.”

“I apologize for the intrusion.” He laughed, sending an unexpected rush of flutters through your chest and straight to your lower belly. “I just couldn’t help myself in worrying if you were going to get home safe.”

You studied him for a moment, trying to remember who he was. His undercut, despite being a more unpopular haircut around the office, exhumed modern professionalism. A few of his black hairs that were gelled back had fallen over his forehead after several hours of holding its form throughout the night. Milky brown eyes and a narrow nose sat upon his lightly tanned but beautifully contoured face with a dark pink set of lips to grace his regal-like look.

You couldn’t help the sense of familiarity as you gazed at him. Instead of addressing his statement, you blurted out your thoughts, curiosity getting the best of you.

“I’m sorry, but… do I know you? You look so familiar to me.” He was about to respond when the desk man came back to the front with your coat in hand. Before you could reach out to grab it from him, your mystery man was taking it from his grasp.

“I’m Jung Hoseok.” He smiled, holding your coat out for you to place your arm in. So he’s a Jung, huh? Maybe he’s related to the chairman. Would be a nice snag for the night.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You held your hand out to shake his once you successfully slid both arms into the coat. With a smoothness uncanny to any man’s hands you’ve ever felt, he took your fingers in his grasp and leaned down to touch his lips to your knuckles.

“Believe me, Ms. Y/N.” His eyes lifted to meet yours as the warm surface of his lips met your skin followed by the warm teasing exhale of his breath. You suppressed a whimper from growing in your throat. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He stood straight abruptly, shocking you out of your stupor. “So is Uber your way of getting home tonight?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve had a few drinks and I was planning on it, so I didn’t drive here.” You replied to him, hoping he would fall for the action and jump in. He nodded his head in understanding whilst you falsely resumed the task of securing a ride from a few moments ago. Please ask to take me home. Please don’t be nonchalant.

“Are you returning home alone?” Hook, line and sinker.

“Yes, I am. I do have a cat to welcome me though, so no need to worry.” You joked, hoping to push him along and give him the hint that you were very single and very available at the moment.

Deciding that your conversation should be taken outside and away from the prying eyes of your associates, you made your way out the door and into the crisp night as you spoke. The small flurries of snow began lightly pelleting your face, catching on your eyelashes. Hoseok followed close behind you, intent on listening to what you had to say.

You came to a stop on the sidewalk and faced him, shivering slightly.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your homecoming with your cat. I’m sure he misses you dearly.” He smiled smugly, his breath forming visibly in front of him. Wow. So he’s an intellectual. He knows the game.

Fine. I’ll play.

“The homecoming won’t be too glorious. He doesn’t even greet me at the door.” You faked a pout.

Hoseok took a step closer, eliminating some of the distance between the two of you and effectively removing acquaintanceship from the air between you as he spoke. His previous polite behavior wavered slightly, transitioning your small talk “Oh? Is that so? Why?”

“I’m pretty sure he hates me even though I feed him and give him a roof over his head every day.” You chuckled with an air of breathlessness. “He’s a brat.”

“And are you?” He took another step and circled his arm around you to place his hand on your lower back, chest lightly brushing against yours. He was radiating an incredible amount of heat through the layers of his suit. You almost missed the random question with the way your vaginal floor tightened in anticipation.

“A-am I what?” You stuttered, looking up into his eyes and quickly crumbling. You hoped that he would catch you past the heady sensation of lust that crowded your veins.

“A brat.” He graveled, lifting his hand to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger. You gasped and couldn’t help bringing your lower lip between your teeth as you were rendered silent, biting down in an attempt to use the pain as a distraction from the pooling of desire in your belly and panties. Good god, he just went right in.

Hoseok’s thumb brushed over your trapped lip, dragging it out and pinning it below his nail before he leaned in. His lips, inches from yours, held your attention and his eyes, locked on your own lips, grew dark with arousal. You thought he was going to kiss you but, instead, he only tutted and answered his own question for you. “So you are.”

The taste of his breath on your tongue was sinful with the tangible scent of his scotch overpowering the aftertaste of your whiskey and champagne. His cologne surrounded you, turning your body into a live wire as your olfactory senses were ambushed with his masculine musk.

“I’m going to need an actual answer when I ask you this, little one.” He whispered, lips mere millimeters from brushing yours. All you could do was gulp and nod in suspense of his question- but he wasn’t having it. He squeezed your chin sternly. “Verbalize.”

“O-okay.” You croaked through the lump in your throat. Hoseok smiled and released your chin from his grip, sliding his hand to your cheek to caress it instead.

“Good enough… for now.” He drew his own lip between his teeth as he slightly pulled away to scan your body in his grasp. His eyes locked on yours again, the closeness of his face scrambling your thoughts completely.

“May I be the one to take you home tonight, Ms. Y/N?” He asked genuinely.

With almost no hesitation, your desperation rose to the surface once more. “Yes. Yes, you may.”

It took mere seconds for Hoseok to back away and wave his hand in the air before a black SUV pulled up in front of the two of you. Grabbing onto your hand, he tugged you towards the vehicle.

“Mine or yours?” You asked as he opened the door for you to slide yourself across the leather seats to settle towards the far window. Following suit and settling behind the passenger seat, he spoke.

“Hm… Are you alright with coming to mine?” He asked, crowding himself on you as he shut the door behind him. His closeness was suffocating- in a good way. The way you felt the heat from his face on yours reminded you of just how close the two of you were about to get.

“I’m alright with anything, Hoseok.” You breathed, eyelashes fluttering in pure bliss. Your panties were clinging to your heat uncomfortably, begging to be removed.

“Be careful of what you say, darling. I might get a little excited.” He laughed lowly. Turning to his driver, he quickly ordered him to take him home. For a brief moment, you wondered what his place looked like and where it was.

Hoseok’s beauty was uncanny; even in the dark, you marveled at his features as the shadows of the street lights passed over them. His hands were constantly attached to you yet no kiss had been shared, causing your nerves to run rampant with tension and excitement.

After a short fifteen-minute ride, the vehicle pulled up in front of large gates and you gazed in wonder at the house that stood behind them. Situated up a small hill past a large courtyard with a giant fountain in the middle was a mansion. The mansion, from what you could see in the night, was dark brown in color due to the bricks it was built by. The fountain lit the front of it in a soft multicolored glow as it transitioned between colors.

“Wow.” You breathed, eyes locked on it as the gate opened and you were dropped off at the front steps into the cold of the night.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” He asked from behind you, his body heat immediately returning to your cold form.

“Absolutely.” You turned to him as you whispered, noticing the snowflakes gathering in his hair. Even as your bones chattered from how little your dress and coat properly covered your body, you still felt the heat of want flooding your veins and warming your blood deliciously. Looking into his eyes felt like the call of the wild, the sun, and anything and everything that could cause the bout of excitement and pure joy in your heart.

You just hoped he was able to make you cum tonight. At this point, with his beauty and smooth game, getting you to cum was just a plus.

“Y/N.” He muttered, taking a step to you while pushing you against the large front door to his manor.

“Yes?” You answered nervously, heart racing in your chest. Could he hear it?

“May I open my door?” He chuckled. You quickly looked behind you and realized that you were blocking the slot for his key, quickly moving to the side and rushing an apology with a blush on your cheeks. Looking at the ground, you waited until he opened the door behind you to look back up.

He was pulling you by the waist into his foyer before you could fully look at him again. “C’mere.”

Shutting the door behind you, he pressed you against the wall and pressed a kiss to your lips unexpectedly. Finally. Oh, good god he tastes so good.

His lips moved tentatively at first, smoothly molding yours to his will and pressing against your body with his. Hoseok placed his hands on your hips, sliding them delicately up your sides to your shoulders and under your coat, sliding it off with ease. He was pulling away before you could fully kiss him back, your lips chasing after his in dislike of the loss of contact.

“I’m sorry,” He heaved. “I couldn’t control myself for a moment.”

“No, Hoseok,” You whispered, sliding your hand to the back of his neck and bringing his face back to yours. “It’s okay. I want you to.” He pulled you tightly to his body with a hissed breath between his teeth.

“What? What do you want me to do, Y/N?” He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you squealed in surprise. Automatically, you locked your ankles around him, cocktail dress making it easy to spread your legs. Hoseok continued to speak before you could reply, carrying you up the stairs as you stared intently at him. “Do you want me to nail your pussy into the bed? Do you want me to rail you until you lose your voice? Do you want me to spank you until you get welts? What? What do you want me to do?”

Wow.

Again, he made you speechless. The way his change of pace had victoriously shut you the fuck up for the second time was shocking. 

Hoseok shoving you against the wall next to a door and grinding his hips into your own pulled you from the silence-rendering shock.

“Fucking speak, Y/N. What do you want?” He said sharply.

“I want it all- all of it. Please.” You were quick to reply as his domineering tone sunk into the pores of your skin whilst you whimpered from the friction. He only smiled and took one hand out from under your leg to open the door.

“As you wish, little one.” He smirked. Swiftly, he brought you into the dark room. How he found his way to the bed, you were unsure, for even a person living in a room for years has a difficult time finding their way under such circumstances- and he was carrying you. Regardless of your wonder, you still felt the cool sheets of his bed below you as he threw you onto it with a grunt.

You laid there in the dark, confusion following when he did not follow you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyes attempting to adjust themselves. Hoseok chuckled, the sound ensuring you that he did not move from his spot in front of you.

“I must undress first before I can fuck you.” He laughed lowly. You blushed again, realizing that the removal of clothes was definitely a necessity. You moved to strip off your dress when he abruptly stopped you. “No. Don’t. I will undress you.”

You laid back in wait, listening to the ruffling of his clothes as you heard the articles hit the ground one by one. The sound of his belt unbuckling reawakened the jitters in your limbs, excitement reappearing in the form of more of your juices in your panties.

A deep ache sat itself on your clit, pulsing away with your heartbeat in an almost painful sensation. Trembling, you reached a hand down to relieve some of the pressure that built up over the past hour, emitting a quiet sigh from your lips once you lightly cupped your heat.

Briefly, you felt the mattress dip in front of you before his body covered yours. Tearing your hand away from your pulsing heat quickly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to allow him to slot himself onto your body. The warm, smooth skin of his arms underneath yours felt heavenly yet extremely intimate.

“What do you think you’re doing, little one?” He muttered onto the exposed skin of your neck, grinding himself into you and eliciting a mewl from your throat. He cracked a hand down on the side of your thigh, the hot lick of pain doing wonders to your clenched core.

“I’m sorry,” You whined as he slowly rocked against you again. “It was just hurting so bad.”

“Don’t touch yourself.” He said, pulling away to glide his hands over your calves and thighs. “That’s my job.”

In the darkness, you were beginning to make out Hoseok’s figure; a dark and foreboding form that covered your own- and he was moving downward.

“I was watching you all night.” He pressed his nose to the skin of your inner thigh, inhaling deeply. “And I just can’t find it in myself to believe that someone let you go to that thing alone.”

It was hard to think with Hoseok so close to where you needed him, but it didn’t stop the words from slipping past your lips. “Well, you obviously came alone too. How did someone let you go alone?”

Hoseok chuckled in response, tracing his nose up to your hamstrings before moving further, passing your hip bone to trail over your underwear.

“I have a very particular taste in women and you happen to be the one I was looking for.” You froze for a moment as you felt his teeth on your skin, goosebumps littering your skin again. “You smell so damn good.”

He passed his nose and mouth over your abdomen before you felt his mouth latch onto your panties and bring them down. Your heart rate picked up once more.

“Hoseok.” You breathed, watching his figure as he pulled your underwear to your knees before grabbing them with his hands and sliding them the rest of the way off.

“Y/N.” He whispered in response. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Hoseok slid his hands back up your legs, sliding under your dress and grabbing it to pull it off you.

Once your dress hit the floor, you expected him to go for your heals, but all he did was sit back and stare.

“Y/N, before we start, I must insist that you choose your safeword.” His large hand made itself present on your naked waist, gripping it lightly.

Shock filled your veins and caused a mild sense of panic within you. “S-safeword?” You stuttered. He was one of those people? Fuck. I’ve never done anything like that before.

“I assure you that I will not bring you harm and that we won’t do anything like that… yet.” You quivered under the word. “Things like that require a contract so that I have your explicit consent. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

“That’s…” You trailed off. “Actually amazing.”

“What, that there’s a contract?” He asked, scooping his arms under you to pick up your body and move you to the headboard.

“No, that you’re actually asking.” You replied, staring at the contours of his body that was now punctuated by the small amount of moonlight streaming in through his window.

“I can promise you that I never do anything like that without asking.” His voice, volume a mere breath, feathered deliciously over the skin of your chest as he looked down at you. “It’s why I am asking you to tell me what you want me to do. I don’t want to become a danger to you.”

You raised your handle to cradle his cheek, wondering how in the world someone who looked like this could be a danger to you, however, you knew that there were much more dangerous games to play than the one you had played with him earlier.

Hoseok leaned into your touch as you spoke with a newfound sense of confidence in his words, an unfamiliar sense of reassurance filling you. “My safeword will be consent, then. And Hoseok? Ask me what I want and I will answer you.”

“Y/N.” He hovered over you to ghost his lips over yours. “What do you want me to do?”

You moved your hand from his cheek to tangle in his hair. “I want you to touch me.”

“Thank god.” Hoseok delivered a soft smack straight to your heat as he smothered you with his lips, the quick contact forcing a whimper to burst from you into his mouth. He was quick to smooth it with a caress of his fingers straight to your clit, shock subsiding into pleasure.

At this point, you’re drenched. Constantly flexing your walls around nothing had created an accumulation of your wetness between the lips of your pussy. Hoseok groaned when he began spreading it around your bundle of nerves.

“May I eat you out? Please?” He pulled his lips from yours and pressed his thumb to you, softly rubbing circles. Your thighs spasmed every so often.

“Yes, Hoseok, yes.” You wobbled. His lips and eyes, now visible, pulled into a grin as he lowered himself down your body.

Without warning, he pressed his face into you, tongue out and lips agape. Immediately, you brought your hands to his hair with a low, breathy groan building in your chest. He started with zero hesitation.

Hands holding you by your thighs, he licked once, then twice, and then shoved his tongue past your folds to slightly enter you. You couldn’t help the groan as it escaped you, tossing your head back and widening your legs for him. He removed one of his hands from your leg, realizing he didn’t need to do much to keep you pliant, and used it to spread your lips further apart.

Blissed out and not paying attention, you didn’t feel his eyes on you as he surveyed your body, growing dangerously hard as he watched you slowly rock yourself into him. Your breasts swayed just slightly with the movement and his hungry eyes struggled to capture your entire body all at once. Experimentally, he slid a finger into your heat, loving how one of your hands that was tangled in his hair yanked back to tangle into your own.

He dropped his tongue back to your clit as he watched your body, a beautiful instrument that he was playing to produce the most beautiful sounds he ever heard.

You were in complete bliss. Hoseok laved his tongue over you in rhythm with his finger as he began pumping you. You couldn’t think straight anymore. The texture of his tongue was slightly rougher than the fragile skin of your folds, sending you into a quivering mess as you felt it attack you with fervor.

It wasn’t long before you were approaching your first orgasm that Hoseok added a second finger, the feel of the stretch paired with his tongue truly exquisite. You were losing your mind if your wails of pleasure were any sign of that.

The knot that began forming in your lower belly had begun to pull your legs closed as it was pulled tighter with each stroke of Hoseok’s tongue and fingers.

“Hoseok-“ You moaned past your labored breaths, gasping aloud. “I think I’m-“

“Then cum on my face, little one. Give it to me.” He moaned with you, pumping his fingers into you with the pads dipping against that specific spongy spot within you.

To say your orgasm was glorious was a heavy understatement. Your legs clapped against the sides of his head, trapping his face against you as he pulled his fingers out, tongue pushing past your folds into your pussy to welcome the juices that rushed out of your tremoring walls. His lips sloppily locked with you as if in a heated french kiss, driving you to a babbling mess whilst you let your climax riddle your body into a trembling heap. Breathless and high with ecstasy, you felt the strokes of his tongue lick you up and assist your spasms of sensitivity.

“Fuck.” You croaked, staring up at the ceiling which you then noticed was graced with a large chandelier, the crystals twinkling in the moonlit room like stars. Hoseok moved over you again, obstructing your view with his face that glistened with your release.

“Y/N,” He whispered, voice almost straining. “What else do you want me to do?”

You took a moment to look down, noticing his considerable, weeping erection mere inches from touching your skin with a pearly bead of cum at the tip glinting at you teasingly. Your mouth watered despite your post-orgasm stupor. He’s fucking huge.

Your response was almost automatic and robotic as you lifted your eyes back to his.

“I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Hoseok was quick to kiss you again, groaning with relief while he lowered his body to yours. The sheen of sweat that covered your skin caused his to slightly stick to yours. The weight of his cock on your stomach and the taste of yourself on his lips only made you press your shaking body up to his in anticipation, locking your ankles around his back.

“Y/N,” He muttered in between his kisses. “You may call me Hobi if you’d like. My full name is a little difficult to scream coherently.”

“Hobi?” You tested the name on your tongue, distracted, before smiling at him. “I like it.”

“Very good. Use it as much as you’d like.” He smirked, reaching for his cock to rub it into your pussy lips, spreading them slightly so that it massaged your clit and folds. The halted groan that Hoseok choked down proved that the feel of you on his dick affected him just as much as the feel of his dick affected you. “You’re wet as fuck.”

“Only for you.” You moaned, widening your legs to allow him more room. You held your breath as he gripped himself and positioned.

Slowly, Hoseok entered you. You were wet and prepared enough that the stretch of his girth was only mildly uncomfortable- not painful. The hiss drawn in between his clenched and bared teeth made you bristle with pride as you were able to make him feel good.

You watched the way your bodies slid together, inch by magnificent inch. The sight overpowered any previous exhaustion you felt from the first orgasm. You became completely hyperaware from the way he had seemed to reach the end of you, stuffing you full, with a bit more of him still unsheathed. Dammit. You want to fit him all.

“Shit.” He spluttered and hiccuped, causing you to realize that he was holding his breath. “You’re tight.”

Gathering your legs up into his arms, he began fucking you just as you wished.

He began his pace brutally, hips snapping into yours with abandon and stunning precision. Despite wanting to watch him, your eyes couldn’t focus, constantly fighting the urge to roll to the back of your head. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he leaned over and spread you wide.

“H-Hobi.” You sobbed. The sounds of your pussy slurping on Hoseok’s dick was ungodly, yet you couldn’t help but love the sound of him invading your depths with your body greedily taking him in.

You felt his cock deep within you as if he was pushing into your lungs with each surge of his body into yours. Could you breathe? You quickly determined that yes, you could breathe, because of the loud sounds that you made that were a mix of gasps and screams.

Sweat began dribbling down Hoseok’s forehead, gelled hair now damp and falling over his face into his eyes with a look of determined ecstasy plastered across his features. His eyes, accompanied by his drawn up eyebrows, focused in concentration on where your bodies met before scaling up the expanse of your bodies, locking on your breasts bouncing with the hammering force. Hoseok brought his hand down to rub circles into your clit so that he could watch you squirm even more.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, the second came to you much quicker. With Hoseok grunting over you, his dick railing into your heat like a jackhammer, and the feel of just him, you were coming undone quickly. Grasping onto his neck with one hand and using the other to dig your nails into his back, you began caving in on yourself, unable to leave any muscle relaxed whilst your climax approached. Your legs tensed, heels digging into the globes of his ass to bring him on top of you.

“You really want my cum, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly, to which you only managed to nod and release a quick mhm. Hoseok’s growl in your ear only brought you closer. “I’m going to pump you full of my kids, little one. Just be patient.”

But being patient was impossible with the way he was in your guts and the fact that he had slowed his rhythm in exchange for more depth. Stroke after punishing stroke, you could feel his tip battering your cervix, the slight pain making for a dizzying sensation as it mixed with the onslaught of his thumb on your swollen nub. The concern that he could possibly get you pregnant was only an after thought as you were on the pill, but you had to admit that thinking about taking Hoseok’s seed straight into your womb was a sinfully pleasing idea.

He was much too deep; too far into the pits of your stomach for you to fathom how you had never been fucked this thoroughly before. You were going to fucking die. You were going to be killed if you didn’t stop it now. There was no way you wouldn’t come back begging for more if you didn’t stop now. He would own you because you would be obsessed- but he would want nothing to do with you come morning.

You desperately tried to escape him, legs digging into the mattress to push yourself away in order to gain some sense of mind, but you only crowded yourself further into the headboard with Hoseok following you, wrapped around you, on you, in you- everywhere. Hoseok delivered a solid smack straight to the underside of your ass, the ‘clap’ resonating through the room and mixing with the slurping sounds of your body eagerly pulling him in.

“Don’t you run from me, baby. Take it like a big girl.” He smiled devilishly whilst wrapping a hand around your neck, forcing your gaze to meet his. You sobbed loudly, clawing at his back in a fruitless attempt to detach him from your body. Hopelessly, you tried to press your hand to his stomach in an effort to push him away.

His grip tightened slightly on the sides of your neck, effectively leaving your airway unbothered yet the blood flow to your head stinted. “Move-” He thrust into you roughly, triggering a cry from your lips through the lightheaded feeling of being mildly strangled. “Your fucking hand.”

What was the damned safeword? Your thoughts were jumbled as you tried to remember it, yet you found yourself wondering why you were trying to remember when he wasn’t hurting you in the slightest. The ache in your cervix was an unholy and iniquitous sensation that you found yourself literally drooling out the side of your mouth for. You were fucking addicted to it.

“Hobi!” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes as you called for him. You couldn’t wait any longer. You were about to cum and nothing could stop it. “Hobi!”

“Cum on my dick, Y/N. That’s it. Swallow me up.” He muttered softly, aggression in his tone completely gone as he softened his hold on you in order to focus on ravishing your heat.

You brought him in one last time, body seizing and clawing for him as if you wanted to completely absorb him into yourself, before your orgasm exploded on you in the form of your juices rushing from your snatch around his girth. Mere moments after, before your orgasm was done climaxing, Hoseok came with a curse, pressing himself entirely inside you to spill his cum onto your abused cervix.

In the decrescendo of your orgasm, you found your mind and body unreservedly satisfied.

This man, Jung Hoseok, was a god- in the purest human form. Your entire world was shaken as he panted over you, sweat dripping down both of your bodies. It was no use trying to reason any other way that he had ruined you for any other man on the planet. You had gone through such a dry spell only to be welcomed back by him? You were going to be one spoiled brat if you ever hoped to bed another man again; you knew that, even as a one-night stand, there was no other like him.

With a sore, pulsing body and a slowly calming heart, you watched him as he removed himself from the bed. “Hold onto yourself for a second, will you?” He asked, bringing your hand down to stop his cum from leaking out of your depths. The touch of your fingers on your heat warranted a gasp of oversensitivity, causing him to smirk at you while he got up. He seemed to smile to himself as he mused, “Maybe next time.”

You watched him as he approached a set of doors in the dark, contemplating his words. Next time? My god, yes, please.

Reaching for a towel, you got a divine view of him from the back, perfectly muscular, and plump in the right areas. He looked as if he was sculpted by the Greeks themselves.

You tried to speak but your voice cracked into silence, making you clear your throat to try again. “There’s a next time?”

He turned around quickly with the dark towel in hand, stalking towards you. “If you desire one, that is.”

“Oh! I do very much…” You trailed off as you realized how fast you were to respond to his statement. You grew quiet in embarrassment. “… desire a… next time.” All Hoseok did was grin down at you, eyes flickering to your hold on your core. He was quick to help you clean his essence from your body while he chuckled.

“I guess I made a good impression on you?” He laughed lightly as you laid there, vulnerable and spread out before him in the glow of his aftercare.

“You could say that…” You blushed, turning to look out the window into the night, grateful that it was too dark for him to see the embarrassing flush.

“I hope I satisfied your needs, Y/N. Please tell me if I didn’t.” Hoseok turned serious, lightly placing his fingers on your arm in a feather-light caress so that you would look at him.

“No! No.” You were quick to jump in and assure him. “You were… amazing. The best I’ve ever had, in fact.”

“Really?” He asked whilst tossing the soiled towel to the floor. “And why do you say that?”

You shrunk under his gaze as he laid back in the bed with you, circling his arms around you to roll the two of you over to the side that wasn’t wet with your cum in the sheets. He wasn’t going to kick you out? No. Don’t jump to conclusions. He’s probably just trying to be nice. “Let’s just say that my past escapades were a little less than satisfactory.”

Hoseok sat with his elbow propping him up so that he could look down at you.

“Y/N,” His eyes turned concerned. “When was the last time you had a proper orgasm?”

Stupidly, you replied almost monotonously. “Uh… a few nights ago with my vibra-“

“No. No.” He chuckled, cutting you off. “I meant when was the last time someone else gave you a proper orgasm?”

“Oh, god.” You laughed. You raised your hands to cover your face. “Probably about… ten months ago? Give or take.”

“That explains the brattiness earlier.” He snickered. You only looked at him in confusion. 

He looked back at you, waiting for you to understand, but you were only drawing a blank. Hoseok looked down and grimaced in disdain, shaking his head slightly. With his free hand, he placed it on the side of your neck, thumb brushing your cheek delicately. “You haven’t been taken care of, little one. Would you like me to properly take care of you?”

Hoseok began to lightly trace patterns with his thumb while his eyes searched yours for an answer. Gulping, you nodded and breathed the word ‘yes.’ Are we about to go again?

“Good.” He said lowly, ghosting his lips over yours. Oh fuck, we’re going again. Your heartbeat skipped back into the race, accelerating in speed.

As quickly as he leaned into you, he pulled away and stood up. “We’ll start by getting something to eat because I’m hungry as fuck and I didn’t see you eat anything at the ball. What’re we feeling, McDonald’s?”

And good lord. If you weren’t addicted and stupidly in love then, you were now.

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!

[shoutogepi]

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that’s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears.  Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body. 

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

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make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

thank you so much for reading!! Happy Valentine’s Day sweethearts :)

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[untaemedqueen]

The Lions Den

Mafia!Yoongi x Wife!Hyunah

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 12.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings In This Chapter: Sub!Yoongi, Dom!Hyunah, Mistress Kink, Pain Kink, Degradation, Cigarette Ashing, Begging, Use Of A Cock Ring, Edging, Mentions Of A Safeword, Fellatio, Riding, Dry Orgasm, Impreg Kink (Sorta), Multiple Orgasms, Blood, Gorey Descriptions, Cut Body Parts

A/N: Shout out to @xjoonchildx​ and @ladyartemesia​ for beta-ing this and rooting me on

TagList- @ayyyocee​, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune​, @imaforeigner​​, @yeonkiminnie​​, @stories1907​​, @ppersonna​​, @brilee64​​, @gooplibrary​​, @vivpurple7​​, @xjoonchildx​​, @brightwingr5​​, @yaniposts22​​, @rjsmochii​​, @taeslittletiger​​, @pjmcth​​, @bts-chub​​, @kpoppingthempills, @kim-ji-hyeons-world​​, @jikooksgirl19​​, @yoong-i​​, @ruinsofangels​​, @absolutefantrash​​, @chiminies-noona​​, @eclectically-esoteric​, @simplybree​

Sequel to The Bird Cage

Mirrors are a good way of reflecting. A good way to stare deep inside yourself and see who you really are. See what has made you become the person you are. 

Yoongi stares at the mirror for hours at a time. Just like today. 

His fingers traipse up and down the long scar on his face as he stares at his reflection. 

He can barely remember how he got it, he feels like he's had it for as long as he can remember. 

He can barely feel through the gnarled skin as he touches it. It's been a long time since he's seen his unmarred face. When this happened to him he was still living in Daegu with Taehyung by his side. 

They roamed the street. The worst of their kind. When Jimin found them it seemed to just make sense. For Yoongi, anyway.

A brotherhood. A family. God, he had gone his whole life without knowing what that was. He used to believe he was the devil incarnate. Thinking everything he had done was due to something wrong inside of him. 

But Jimin helped him. Helped him to change his anger into something more constructive. 

He had been given responsibilities then. The heavy load of moving illegal guns and shipments all on him. And, he found pride in that. He was worth something because of Jimin. He owed him his everything. 

He found camaraderie. He found his place in a world so dark that it no longer begged the question when would light ever come?

Finding himself meant finding his heart. Somewhere along the lines they became blurred. He had countless bodies drifting in and out of the large mansion he once lived in with his brothers.

As he touches his scar, he lets out a gentle snort. He remembers when he saw Y/N for the first time. He had been sleeping with Hyunah every so often even back then but Y/N now she was something new.

He can remember how appealing he found her. He wanted her. He wondered if he could ask Jimin for her, quite like Taehyung did with Hyejin. But, it wasn't in the cards. Literally.

He and Hyunah were together one night and she read him his fortune. Y/N was not for him, but Hyunah was.

There lied the problem then. This gorgeously fierce married woman was his destiny and he had to patiently wait for her husband to die. It was harrowing.

Gut wrenching even. But, in the end he had her. And oh, how he adores her. 

Truly destiny was shining upon him. 

She taught him and continues to teach him.

Teaches him to free himself from all of his burdens. All of his chains. And, his own mind. 

Lighting a cigarette his fingers trail to the back of his neck. Inhaling deeply, his eyes flutter shut as he feels the scarred skin. He can feel the olive branches and the incredible detail.

Exhaling the toxic smoke, he can hear the sound of heels behind him. The noise was once off putting but now it turns his bones to jello.

"Yoongi?" Hyunah's voice is gentle as her hands wrap around his bare torso. 

Her lips glide over his scar and he lets out a small sigh at the feeling. 

"Hmm." He whispers as a hand trails lower. She gropes his crotch roughly earning a groan from him as his cigarette dangles from his lips. 

"Do you need to be distracted? Are you caught up in your demons again?" Her voice is filled with taunting notions riddling him useless.

He gives a small nod with a whine, his head lolling back onto her shoulder. Taking the cigarette from his lips, she puts it in her own parted lips before squeezing his balls harder. 

“Let me hear you say it, darling. Let me hear it.” 

His body goes stiff as his mouth opens. Adoring the painful pleasure his wife gives to him so freely. 

“Yes, Mistress. I need it. I need to be distracted, please.” 

She hums into his ear, tugging him by the belt towards their large bed. Dripping with power and allure, he finds his cock hardening at the thought of being dominated by his wife. 

It takes a big man to admit he needs distracting. And, it takes an even bigger man to give his pride away in times of sexual need to his woman who transports him onto a different plane. 

She steps in front of him. His eyes on her low cut gown before being shoved backwards onto the bed. Hitting the pillows, he watches her inhale from his cigarette. His mouth opens slightly as she narrows her eyes down at him. 

God, she was so good at making him feel feeble and small. So good at taking away his thoughts and bringing him to a state of complete need. 

She starts to undress in front of him. Slowly dragging down the expensive fabric of her gown and he finds himself enraptured by the sections of skin she begins to show. His hand reaches up to touch her and the sharp breath she takes between her teeth has him recoiling in seconds. 

“Did I say you could touch?” The sharpness of her voice makes it difficult for him to swallow.

“No, Mistress. I’m sorry. I’ll behave.” She scoffs at his words gently before raising her heeled foot and pressing it into his chest.

Groaning at the sharp twinge of pain as her pointed heel digs into his sternum, he can’t help but feel his cock twitch and grow with need in his briefs. 

“Looks like you, young man, need to learn some manners.” She whispers before discarding her dress from her body.

The black lace bodice she adorns hugs her body perfectly, thrusting her large breasts up to the heavens as she ashes her cigarette on the floor. 

“Yes. Fuck yes.” Yoongi gasps as she digs her heel deeper into his chest. 

Laying back fully he submits himself willingly to her. Anything and everything she wants, he would more than happily provide. 

“What should I do for you today? Hmm? Should I make you ravage me till you’re crying to cum? Should I fuck your tight little hole until you beg for release?” She teases before ashing on his briefs. 

His eyes roll back as she replaces her foot on his chest with her hand. She gives soothing strokes before burning out the cigarette on the floor. 

“Anything Mistress. Please.” Yoongi can barely recognize his own voice, so needy and whimpering. But, that’s when he’s the best. When he no longer feels like himself. 

She turns her nose up at his words before walking away and he can feel his need for her growing as he stares at the globes of her ass as they jiggle. She leans against the bureau of bedroom treasures before opening the double doors wide. 

“I think you need some good old fashioned edging.” She says as she grabs the tightest cock ring from the loop on the wall.

He would normally protest but with all this Im business lately, all this stress, he wants to be so frustrated. 

Licking his lips, he nods to her as he leans up on his elbows. She watches him stew and fester for a few minutes, letting his eyes roam over her body. She feels powerful off of his love. If there was one thing about Lee Hyunah, she loves the human body and the power you can have by taking others' power away. 

She prowls over slowly, relishing in the way he palms at his fully erect cock. She relishes in the whine he gives as she straddles him. 

“Baby.” She whispers in his ear and his eyes are trained on her breasts as she bends down.

“Y-Yes Mistress.” He mewls as she tugs his hair roughly. 

“Mistress loves you.” He sighs gratefully, eyes squeezing shut at the pain as his tongue licks at his lips. 

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for loving me. I don’t deserve it.” He mumbles as she kisses down his face. Stopping at the gnarled scar before licking it.  

He shivers beneath her, hands gripping at the bedsheets knowing better than to touch without being told to. 

“Down, baby.” She instructs and his elbows cave in on the mattress within seconds of her instruction.

She kisses down his chest, taking it slow where his cigarette burns and his large scar is that Y/N so dutifully stitched up many years ago. His gasps and groans make her smirk against his skin. 

It’s powerful, isn’t it? The bond between two people when you truly just let things be. He trusts her completely, and in turn she is his biggest failsafe. 

“Tell me your safeword and we can play.” She says as she hooks two fingers into the band of his briefs. 

He clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from her breasts to look at her. 

“Feather.” He whispers. 

Snapping the band back to him, he grits his teeth as her lips explore his lower half. Her teeth nip gently at the skin above his underwear and he finds it difficult to keep his ass planted on the bed. 

She tugs down his briefs roughly, raising an eyebrow at how angry red the mushroom tip is today. He must really need to be distracted. 

His cock is bigger than her late husband, slightly curved with pretty rose veins that litter the long length. He was the perfect thickness. He was perfect, in all truthfulness. Everything about him was made for her. Destiny smiled upon them in this lifetime. 

She kisses down his long length earnings gasps and whimpers. His eyes fall shut once more, adoring her plush lips against his heated member. 

“Thank you Mistress. Thank you for touching me.” He gasps out as her sharp nails dig into the taut skin of his thighs. 

Precum beads mercilessly at the bulbous tip, Hyunah watches with patient eyes as it slowly begins to glide down the considerable length. 

“Look at how much of a fucking baby you are. I haven’t even really touched you and you’re begging to release.” Her finger picks up the precum before entering the single digit into her mouth.

 Yoongi’s hips thrust upward at her sensual action, watching how her tongue swirls around her finger with precision. 

“Jesus. Please, Mistress. I’m so fucking hard. Please touch me more.” She clicks her teeth at his words before grasping his face in her hand. Smushing his cheeks as her nails dig into his skin.

“You get what I give and you’ll appreciate it. Do you understand me?” With a feeble whimper he nods to her. 

She was painfully good at the long game. She has gone hours with him, teasing and turning his cock purple before even letting him orgasm once. And, if he kept it up today, it would be a repeat if he didn’t get his head on straight.

Sliding the cock ring on, he takes in a sharp breath at the tightness. She strokes his cock once, twice, three times just to hear her name tumble from his perfect lips before stopping. 

“You had bad thoughts today, didn’t you Yoongi? That’s why you want to be punished?” His wife asks as she points to the headboard. 

Scrambling up to the top of the bed, he curses beneath his breath. Of course, she would know. 

“Yes.” He admits as he situates himself as she wants. 

“And what did you think of that got you in this mournful mood?” She asks, straddling his thigh.

In the short amount of time it took for him to get to the top of the bed, her pussy was already unsheathed from her lace panties. Gleaming wet in the daylit master bedroom. She begins to ride his thigh, bottom lip purchasing between her teeth. 

God, she’s a fucking masterpiece. He can feel his cock throbbing harsher with the cock ring. Begging to be touched, to find any relief at all.

“I saw Y/N this morning.” He whispers nervously. 

She hums to him as she brushes her hair over her shoulders. His eyes fall to her arousal on his thigh and he flexes his muscles just to hear a wanton gasp of approval from his wife.

“You did?” She asks as she closes her eyes, losing herself in the pleasure. 

“Yeah. She had on that nightgown. The one I like. With the- fuck.” He groans out as his wife strips himself of her corset. 

Her breasts bounce out, free from the leather and he whines as her nipples begin to harden in the chilly air of their home. 

“Mistress, may I? Please? Your tits are so beautiful.” He begs her, his eyes turning as big as saucers as he looks up at her.

“Go ahead, baby.” 

His arms wrap around her back quickly, tugging her roughly to his body. Snaking his tongue out, he runs circles around her areola before encasing her stiff peaked nipple with his lips. He groans loudly as his hands grip at her flesh. 

Her scent is vanilla and lavender and it brings him comfort smelling it. She was his home and he knew it all too well.

“Good boy.” She moans gently as he abandons one breast for the other. She rocks quicker against his thigh, chasing her own high as his cock leaks more precum in its forsaken state. Her nails run down his chest, leaving bright red lines in their wake.

“You’re so gorgeous Mistress. Thank you for using me.” He whispers out.

“Why am I using you, baby? Tell Mistress.”

“Because I don’t deserve to be touched or pleased. I don’t deserve to feel your beautiful cunt around me for having such thoughts today.” He chokes out as she shoves him back against the headboard. His mouth gives an audible pop as he is ripped away from her breast.

He curses gently as he watches her reach the peak of her pleasure. Adoring the small simpers and whines she gives out before her hips stutter. He pulls her hips roughly, earning a loud moan as she orgasms. Her body undulates in his grasp as she rides out her pleasure. 

He grits his teeth as his cock throbs. The pain becoming almost unbearable. 

“So you saw Y/N today.” Hyunah says as she hops off of his thigh and he sighs. 

He was always truthful with his wife. He didn’t love Y/N, of course. His wife had his heart and more, but yet there was still this pressing attraction to the woman who he has known for years. 

“Yes. And she was wearing that nightgown.” Hyunah hums as she inhales from her cigarette. 

“So your prick got hard because the pretty girl was wearing a nice dress? Hmm?” She mocks and his cheeks blush pink at her degradation.

“I’m sorry Mistress.” He murmurs as she spits on his cock.

“It’s because you love power. You love a woman that can hold their own and you’re just a simpering little man that needs to be punished. Isn’t that right?” He nods fervently to his wife as she presses the cigarette to his lips. 

She lets the cigarette dangle as she bows down. Her tongue licks a circle around the head of his cock and his back smacks into the headboard at her action. 

“Oh, fuck. You suck my cock so well. Thank you Mistress.” He whines before inhaling. 

“Tell me why you like to see the powerful woman you work for.” She taunts as she bows her head down on him. Working assiduously on his cock, she smacks his inner thigh as he finds it difficult to concentrate on any words.

“She just...fuck, baby.” He whines as he cards his fingers through her long hair. 

Smacking his hand away from her head, he closes his eyes before pulling the cigarette from his lips. Her mouth was so wet and warm on him, tears pool in her eyes as she deepthroats his large cock. 

“You know me. You know I only love you baby.” He murmurs and he knows it’s the wrong answer as she pulls off of him. He groans loudly in frustration as his pleasure is ebbed away. 

“I know you do. I don’t want those words. Tell me or I’ll leave you here like this.” He scoffs gently before nodding as his wife bends back down.

“She just looked pretty and soft in the nightgown. She’s pregnant again and I-” Hyunah lets her teeth graze the long length of his cock and he shivers mid sentence. 

Pulling off of him, she straddles him fully before slowly sliding down on his cock. “God, your pussy feels so fucking good Mistress. Thank you for fucking me.” He groans out as she stills on top of him.

“That's what it is? You like to see your boss all pregnant and still so powerful?” His cock throbs within her and she raises her eyebrows impressed. 

“Can we stop talking about it? You know I’m faithful to you and only you. I’m sorry I had those thoughts… I need to be punished, baby.” He whines out as he ashes out the cigarette. His hands find their place on her hips as she begins to bounce on his cock.

He watches her breasts sway with each bounce. Watching how her mouth opens at the pleasure of being filled so nicely with his large cock. 

He could feel his pleasure coming too. Feeling his cock thickening and throbbing as he throws his head back with a loud moan. 

“I know you’re faithful, baby. Or else you wouldn't have a cock or balls left. But, you shouldn’t be ashamed of finding your boss attractive. The human body is so beautiful. Like now, I’m going to make you cum and you’re going to cry. And, it's going to be beautiful. ” She whispers in his ear as she presses her breasts to his chest. 

His fingers grip harder at her skin as she rides his cock. His eyes wander to the place where they’re joined and he bites his bottom lip at how much of his wifes arousal is on his cock. How slick and messy she was for him. His neck veins jut out as he swallows thicky, savoring this pleasurable pain. 

His cock was so relentlessly hard, begging to cum. She nips at the skin of his neck, adoring the way he holds her closer as he moans her name. He becomes lost in the sensual act, forgetting his role as submissive and just teetering on the edge of pleasure. 

“I’m going to cum. Fuck. Baby, please let me. I’m dying.” He begs of her and she pulls off of him. He sobs loudly at the loss, his head tilting and eyes shutting as his orgasm slips away from him. 

“You find her so attractive when she’s pregnant because you can’t help but think about how Jimin drilled that child into her cunt, don’t you? You would love to have the balls to be that confident.” He wipes at his cheeks before clearing his throat.

It’s true. He knows it. His wife certainly knows it.

She slaps his cock, earning his eyes on hers as he stares into her black irises. 

“Yes.” He whispers.

“But you're not that confident. What are you?” She asks as she slides back down on his cock. 

With a stunted gasp, his hands reach up for her breasts and she allows it. She coos gently as she wipes his cheeks as more tears fall.

“I’m just your weak baby. Just want my Mistress to fuck me good and make me beg for it.” He whispers and she hums to him.

Kissing him hard, she begins to bounce on his cock again. Their tongues sliding over one anothers and he can taste alcohol on her tongue. Biting his bottom lip harshly, she whimpers as he pinches and rolls her nipples between his fingertips. 

“You’re such a good boy. Your cock fills me so nicely.” She moans out as her head lolls back. 

His hips lift meeting her every bounce and he takes pleasure in the way her thighs quiver. She was close to her next orgasm and he wants nothing but to please her. He fucks up into her faster, adoring her gasps and hearing his name from her lips.

“Please Mistress, please say my name again. Let me hear you say my name.” He begs as he pulls her close. Her arms wrap around his neck and his cock shudders within her as her ragged breath fans over his ear.

“Yoongi.” She whispers before biting down on his earlobe. 

Without warning he orgasms. Groaning loudly in her ear as his hips still. It doesn’t confuse him anymore but it still hurts. Dry orgasms were his worst form of punishment and his eyes well up with tears as the short pleasure turns into sharp shooting pain.

“Fuck. Your cock is so amazing. Just a pretty little toy for your Mistress to get off on.” 

“Y-Yes Mistress. Just your little sextoy.” He chokes out as tears streak over his cheeks. 

Rolling her hips, his cock fills every part of her and she sighs wantonly as her pleasure builds. Even in his pain, he adores her. Adores how her chest heaves towards him as she lets out small squeaks and moans. 

“I’m going to cum on your big cock, baby. Wouldn’t that be so nice? To have your Mistress cum all over you?” He nods fervently as she tugs at his hair. 

“Yes. Please, please cum on my cock. Show me how much you love your toy.”

“Such a good boy.” She praises and his heart swells at the compliment. 

She orgasms again, her cunt tightening and milking his cock as she whines out his name. 

She caresses his face as she goes through her pleasure. Ears ringing with white noise as she watches him bite down on his bottom lip. 

“Would you let me give you a baby, Mistress? Would you?” He asks as she hops off of him. 

Taking off the cock ring, he chokes on a gasp as the blood rushes back into his cock. He preens as she strokes him, the sensitivity almost making him scream out his safeword. 

“Of course I would, baby.” They both knew that Hyunah couldn’t- and wouldn’t have anymore kids. But it wasn’t about really wanting a baby for Yoongi. It was about “wanting to be man enough to do it.” He envied Jimin sometimes. He always found it easy to get what he wants and being man enough to take it. 

Although his persona was one to be rivaled with, Yoongi was just feeble. Needing to be controlled and begging to be distracted.

“You know your Mistress would let you put a baby inside of her. Let you get me knocked up and rely on you to take care of me.” He nods at her words as she lays back. Her legs spread for him and he jumps at the chance to situate himself inside them. 

He prods at her entrance, tongue licking over her neck as he inched his way inside. He gasps at her tightness, burying his face in her neck as he bucks into her with all of his strength. 

“Yeah? You’d let me get you real big with my baby and make me take care of you? I’d wait on you hand and foot. Make you know how great of a man I am.” He mumbles through gritted teeth.

Her nails rake down his back as she moans his name. He fucks her with force, almost sending her body down the bed if he didn’t have a good grasp on her.

“I’m your little bitch with a big, fat cock but if I got you pregnant you’d need me to take care of you. You’d beg me to help you.” He seethes out and she screams in pleasure as he presses her knees to her chest.

“You let my cock get so hard that it’s painful Mistress. Fuck, your pussy feels so good!” He whines as she kisses over his scar.

“You’re such a good boy for me, you deserve to cum a big load in my pussy.”

“Yeah, shit. I love pleasing you, Mistress. I love being so good for you.” His cock thickens and throbs with each thrust and he finds himself sobbing again. He pleases her? If that’s the case it’s tenfold for him. 

His body wracks with pleasure. White hot and nerve tingling pleasure courses through him as he finds himself close to his release. 

“Hyunah. Fuck. I love you. I love you so much baby. Christ!” He sobs out as he feels his balls tighten. 

“I love you too, baby.” She whispers before running her fingers through his hair. 

With a loud groan, he orgasms. He hugs her tightly to his body as ropes of cum paint her inner walls. 

“Yes.” He whines loudly before sighing. It seems to be never ending, the amount of cum he lets out. 

Finally, he lifts off of his wife before pulling out of her gently. With a hum, she closes her legs and he smirks at her as she grabs two cigarettes off of the bedside table. 

He lights them for them before leaning back against the headboard. “Thanks, baby. I needed that.” He murmurs as he slings his arm over her shoulder. Her fingers glide over the large scar on his stomach and he looks down before putting his head back. 

“You know how much I love you, right?” He asks as his thumb rubs comforting circles on her shoulder. She smiles before nodding and pressing her bare body into his side.

“I know. I love you too.” He closes his eyes as he pulls from his cigarette. 

“You’ve been having a rough week. With all of the Im stuff and everything and I know you need to be distracted.” His wife says as she ties her hair up into a bun. 

He clears his throat before looking out the large windows of their shared home. 

“Something is looming around here. A dark spirit. An aura black as coal. And, we need to be ready when it wants to come and shroud us all.” Hyunah whispers as she stares off into the distance. Her voice was her own and yet completely disembodied. 

He’s gotten used to it by now. Everything that she predicts, everything she sees always rings true. With a sigh, he buries his face into her neck.

“Something is coming.” She whispers.

He wasn’t sure when he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke from his nap, he was groggy and more tired than when he fell out. His wife wasn’t in the bed with him and it was dark outside already. 

“Mr. Min, sir.” That voice, the voice of death. 

Rolling his eyes, he leans across the bed before grabbing a cigarette and packing it against the table.

“What Jeeves?” He mocks Hyunah’s loyal butler.

“It’s Ohshin, sir.” He always has to tell Yoongi his real name as if he hasn’t learned it by now. He was too old and decrepit to understand his humor, or so he thinks.

“Yeah. I’m aware. What do you want?” He asks, lighting his cigarette and watching the white smoke lazily rise towards the ceiling. 

“You have a package. Someone left it on the doorstep for you. No return to sender.”  The old man says and Yoongi nods before waving him out of the room.

Entering the grand kitchen, he takes in his older wife as she stares at the large box on the granite countertop. 

“What’s the matter, babe?” He questions before yawning loudly. 

She doesn’t acknowledge him as she stares at the white cardboard. 

“This box is filled with pain and misery. I can hear...screaming, can feel blood splattering.” He takes in her shaking hand as she lifts it to pull from her cigarette.

“Hey...Hey.” He whispers comfortingly as he walks around the counter to hold her.

“I can feel the sorrow. The confusion. Something horrible is in this box.” She seethes through her teeth and Yoongi can sense her nerves. 

He rubs comforting circles on her bare back as he kisses her cheek. He can feel her body trembling. His eyes flit to the box before tilting his head. 

“Jeeves!” He calls loudly to the empty kitchen and he waits patiently as he coddles his wife to his side.

“Sir.” 

“Get my wife a glass of wine and bring it out to the patio.” He says before kissing her temple. She looks over at him as her eyes become glassy.

“I can feel the pain.” She whispers, tapering off and broken at the end.

“Okay, baby… Alright.” He whispers gently. 

Taking her hand, he leads her to the back patio before opening the door. “Just smoke a cigarette. Drink the wine and relax. Alright? I’ll get rid of the box.” He tells her before pecking her lips gently. 

She gives a shell shocked nod. Her legs are trembling as she takes small steps to the chaise lounge beneath the beige canopy. He waits for her butler to hand her the glass of wine and he nods to Ohshin to stay outside with her.

He shoves the box, pulling his gun out from the back of his waistband. It makes no movement. There’s no smell. It’s just a white cardboard box. 

He lights a cigarette before opening the flaps of the box. He shivers in the eerie quietness of the house before peaking into the box. 

“Oh Christ!” He yells as he backs up. 

A hand with no fingers and a scalp of hair sit prettily inside the box. 

Yoongi’s stomach rolls and he closes the box quickly. Pressing both of his hands to the counter, his body heaves forward. He tucks his head between his arms as he takes a deep breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He mumbles before cracking his neck.

“What is it?” He hears from the patio. His head lifts quickly before grabbing the box off of the counter and angling his face away from it.

“Just stay inside and don’t go out. Do you hear me?” He asks his wife as he takes off towards the entryway of their home. 

“Baby?” His wife calls confused.

“I have to speak with Jimin. Stay inside, babe.” He repeats before ripping open the door and heading towards the other mansion.