#no wailing in my chest though Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[mysterypigeon]

emilee switched verses a couple times and it was totally fine but i'm still thinking about "my wild heart is trapped between my teeth". also i used to love the keep -> make -> make -> keep lines in Mad Dog and she did it so. a win for me overall

[missdynamighttt]

crying during a movie and bf! katsuki teases you but makes sure you're okay.

you sniffled, clutching a pillow to your chest as tears streamed down your cheeks, hiccuping.

you were watching an emotional scene in a movie with your boyfriend, and while you tried to hold it together, the heartbreak on screen was just too much.

katsuki glanced at you with a raised eyebrow. “sweets? you’re crying over that?” he teased, his tone dripping with mock disbelief.

“it’s sad!” you wailed, voice wavering as you wiped your face. “how can you not feel anything? are you even human? do you have a god?"

“tch. it’s a movie, sweets. they're just actors."

"oh my god. my boyfriend's a heartless monster."

“yeah, yeah, and my girlfriend's a bawling sap. your big bad boyfriend doesn't cry over sappy movies, big deal."

but when you sniffled again, something in his chest tugged. katsuki sighed, his teasing demeanor softening.

“baby.. c'mere,” he muttered softly, his arms wide open for you.

you hesitated, still glaring at him through watery eyes, but eventually gave in, crawling into his lap. he pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tucking your head under his chin.

“you’re such a sap,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“shut up,” you mumbled, letting out a small hiccup but leaned into him, resting your head on his chest. “you’re just mean."

“uh-huh,” he said, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “yet you still love me 'nyway.”

"unfortunately," you rolled your eyes but smiled softly, tears finally slowing down.

"brat," katsuki then leaned down with a grin, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss that made you forget all about the sad movie.

“better?”

“better.”

“good,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

katsuki had held you tightly like that through the rest of the movie, sneaking in kisses every now and then to make sure you were okay.

and though he pretended not to care, katsuki stayed like that with you, his arms never letting you go. it wasn’t his usual type of movie, but he’d do just about anything to make you happy—even if it meant sitting through a sappy plot while cuddling with you.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ self indulgent once again bc i watched a movie and i cried for a good 1/3 of the movie.

[tomiawka]

thinking about twenty one twenty one genuinely made me want to cry at times lmfao i'm sorry in advance for what i'm about to write

[obsesssedblerd]

i live for your girl dad! sukuna may we please have a little more? 😭💕

oh, you're in luck anon. just finished typing this one <3

--

Sukuna’s daughter had been wailing for the last half hour. Maybe even longer.

He tells Uraume to finish preparations, then walks back in the direction of your shared bedroom. He finds you there, pacing back and forth while trying to soothe your baby with light shushes and comforting humming. You look tired. Lately, you haven’t been getting much sleep. 

“She’s still crying, even after all this time,” he says from the doorway. “Is she sick?” 

“Oh, no,” you reply with a small, exhausted smile. “It’s just that… She knows you’re leaving.” 

That makes him pause and raise an eyebrow in question. “What?” 

You elaborate. “She cries when you leave for business, and she doesn’t sleep as easily until you return.” You look down at your daughter, who had begun reaching her little arms towards Sukuna the moment she felt his presence in the room. “Proof that she’s my daughter. It doesn’t help that she can feel that I am also sad.” 

Though his expression remains as stoic as ever, Sukuna’s heart pings at your soft confession. Before he knows it, he’s walking towards you. “Here.” He gently takes the small, wailing girl and holds her against his chest, her cries immediately softening. Her tiny hands grip his kimono, as if she were begging him to stay for a little while longer. You sit down on the bed, and when you yawn, Sukuna tells you that he’ll put the baby to sleep, then exits the room, taking the hallway that leads to the garden of his large estate. 

By the time he’s outside, his daughter’s no longer crying. She stares up at him, her big crimson eyes still pleading to him. Sukuna sighs, slowing his steps when he reaches the garden’s trail. “You surprise me, brat,” he tells her. “Before you were born, I was convinced that you, like most babies, would be frightened in my presence.” 

His daughter tilts her head in what he thinks is confusion, as if saying, ‘But you’re my father. Why would I be afraid of you?’ He scoffs, then wraps her in the baby blanket he brought with him. “You need to sleep, little one. It’s late. I am certain that you are tired.” 

Sukuna remains quiet as he continues walking through the moonlit garden, and it doesn’t take long for the baby’s eyes to shut. Once her breathing steadies and he knows that she’s asleep, he exhales once, thinking of your words earlier. “Proof that she’s my daughter. It doesn’t help that she can feel that I am also sad.” 

He didn’t know that you missed him that much whenever he was away on business. 

When Sukuna returns to the room, he carefully places his daughter in the bassinet next to your bed. Since the baby blanket still has his cursed energy on it, she’ll find comfort in it until he returns. Then he sees you, fast asleep in the bed. He covers you with the blanket, then gently strokes your cheek. I’ll be back soon, he thinks to you. Finally, he quietly closes the door, then makes his way back to Uraume. 

“Lord Sukuna,” Uraume greets him with a dip of their head. “Is the little princess alright? Does she need anything?” 

“She is fine, but we shall make this quick,” he says. “My wife and my brat prefer when I am home, so the faster I can return to them, the better.” 

[evielmostdefinitely]

Imagine how distraught snow would be if his wife had a really rough time giving birth to their child where she’s coming in and out of conscience and there’s blood and he’s terrified she won’t make it like his mother leading to him hating the baby for a little bc of how badly his wife was recovering sorry for the angst! Ignore this if uncomfortable <3

forever winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested, troubles with child birth leaves coriolanus very cold towards your son.

contains: angst. mentions of parental death, blood, complications during birth. darkish coriolanus. kinda fluffy-ish end?

Coriolanus knew the horrors of childbirth. He knew the dangers, the risks. He’d seen the blank stares of a new mother rocking her baby, eyes blank and distant like she’d been through war. He’d heard the solemn whispers in a dim room, quiet and hushed, darting eyes that looked everywhere but the casket- sometimes two. His own mother had been torn from his grasp at a young age because of it, and for a while, he was sure he’d never let his own wife experience it. 

Then he met you. 

You who lit his world up from the inside out, who he rose only each day to see- to love. You who cradled a baby at your engagement announcement, a friend’s newborn, held him so naturally and delicately that it ignited something inside Coriolanus. He wanted a dozen babies with you, he decided at that moment that he’d do anything to make it happen. 

You’d blossomed so naturally, swelled up overnight. Round belly and a glowing demeanor- it was addictive to Coriolanus. How he’d brag, boast proudly to anyone who’d hear it- his wife pregnant, he couldn’t be happier. 

All those fears, worries, were replaced with new ones. Horror stories about infants, toddlers. His own consuming thoughts about being a father. The idea of childbirth was nothing but a fading thought to him. That had been in the war, technology was better, he was in a better place. Your father had ensured his darling daughter would have the best of the best- you always did. The best doctors, the best birthing suite, the best nursery- the best. 

But money couldn’t buy your own body betraying itself at birth. It didn’t stop the bleeding, the paling of your skin as you fluttered in and out of consciousness. 

You’d grunted like an animal, tearing yourself into two for hours, cursing Coriolanus’ name, begging him to make it stop, crushing his hands with your legs up in the stirrups, pushing your baby out. 

Coriolanus was in awe of you, though he’d never get the chance to tell you. How you’d willed yourself to hurt yourself, inflict that selfless pain to bring life into the world. It was positively poetic. 

He’d been so overjoyed hearing your babies gargled cry, the nurses announcing its gender- his gender. His son. A boy. A beautiful boy, wailing and delicate and covered in matter that Coriolanus didn’t even care about when he held him close to his own chest. 

“What is it, Coryo?” You muttered, eyes drooping, chest heaving with aftershocks of pain from the birth. 

“A boy, my love.” Coryo’s eyes shone with tears, lips pressing together to conceal it. “It’s a boy. Our boy, my darling.” 

“A boy…” Your speech was slurred, head lolling back onto the pillow. 

Coriolanus noticed for the first time how still the room had become, his son’s wailing the only sound. The nurses and doctors, once chipper and gleeful, now bearing a sickly paleness to their face, eerily quiet. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus snapped, eyes wide, frantic, bouncing around the room. “What’s happening?” 

“We-We can’t find-” The doctor’s voice shook, ducked between your legs in a pile of crimson. Coriolanus’ stomach turned violently. 

“She’s bleeding. We-We can’t find where the bleeding is.” The nurse whispered. 

“What?” Coriolanus snapped. “Bleeding? H-How can she- Find it!” The baby wailed over the sound of Coriolanus’ demanding barks. 

“President Snow, we-we’re trying our best-” 

“-Try harder.” Coriolanus sneered, clutching the baby closer to his chest. “If anything happens to my wife, I will single handedly ensure your bloodline ends with you. Each of you will know what it feels like to lose your family too if you lose her.” He spat, sending the nurses and doctors into a fearful frenzy. 

The newborn wailed, doctors shouted, and Coriolanus’ ears rang, his chest too tight, painfully tight. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive that loss. His eyes fell to the screeching baby beneath him, scrunched face and wailing gums. How was he to raise this baby without you? 

Anger boiled through his chest at the sight of his son- his fault. A cowering nurse, frozen in shaking fear in the corner, watched him carefully as he stormed towards her. “Take this.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving the baby in her arms. 

He hated the feeling, the helplessness that consumed him as he stood, wide eyed and shaking hands he clenched into fists. 

Somewhere, somehow, the doctor found the bleeding, stopping it with a triumphant cry. “Get the blood, get the blood!” He shouted, head hooked over his shoulder. “Infuse it now!” 

Coriolanus wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Memories of the two of your: the moment you met, the first date, his shaking hands asking for yours in marriage, the way you beamed under your veil at the altar, the same glow that you had when you told him you were pregnant. It could all be gone so easily. Had his father felt this way? So helpless? 

Maybe that’s why he’d been so hardened and resentful, so he’d never feel attached- never allow himself to feel so helpless. 

Coriolanus decided he couldn’t blame him, sitting in this chair, watching as you rested. The doctor said there’d be a lot of that in the coming hours. That you’d gone through trauma and you needed time. He wanted to rip you from the bed, shake you until you awoke and told him you were ok. He needed to hear it, maddenned himself with the need for it. 

Instead, he sat. 

Coryo sent the baby out to the nursery. He knew your parents, Tigris, everyone waiting would be thrilled to see the baby boy. Coryo just couldn’t muster the feigned excitement now. The site of his own son made his stomach turn, fear soaked repulsion settled deep in the pitt of his own core. 

Somewhere in the night, you awoke. A rustling and a groan that had Coriolanus snapping out of his dazed sleep, head tucked to his shoulder, slumped in the chair beside your bed. 

“Don’t move.” Coryo commanded, eyes a kind of bright, frantic wide that had you stilling. 

Your throat burned, head dizzy with the medicine they’d pumped into your system. Coriolanus’ hands shook as he brought you the water, hand cupping your jaw gently to feed it to you. You blinked, bleary with confusion. “You’re alright, my love.” Coriolanus' heart swelled, suffocatingly in his own chest. You were alright. 

“Coryo,” You croaked, throat tight, rasping from before, you were sure. You remembered the birth, most of it anyways, the blurry memory of your baby in Coryo’s arms before your memory failed. “The-The baby… Is he alright? W-Where’s my baby?” 

“He’s with your parents, my love.” Coriolanus’ hand smoothes down your matted hair, sticky with dried sweat. “Nevermind him. How are you? Is anything wrong? Do you need anything? I-I’ll call for the nurse.” 

You shook your head, looking around the room. The sheets were clean, your gown clean, but you felt an achy soreness splitting you in half. “What happened?” 

Coriolanus felt the lump in his throat grow, strangling his words in his throat. “Y-You had some complications, darling.” He swallowed the burn of his own tears down in his throat. “You were bleeding but they stopped it.” 

You blinked, unmoving, soaking in the details of your injury. Coriolanus watched you with a studying glare, eyes scanning for any tiny, minor infliction that something was wrong. “Is-Is the baby ok?” You whispered, eyes shining with fear when you met his gaze. 

“The baby’s fine.” Coryo snapped, harsher than he meant to. It alarmed you, your eyes snapping to his carefully. He took a deep breath, holding your hand carefully into his own, thumb running over your knuckles. 

“He’s fine.” Coryo said, softer this time. “I need to know how you are. What do you need from me, my love? What can I do to make it better?” 

You squeezed his hand lightly, your strength weaker than normal. It made Coriolanus’ spine tingle with shooting chills of concern. “I want to see my baby.” You whispered, head leaning against Coryo’s shoulder. 

“No,” Coriolanus shook his head furiously. “No, you-you need to rest, and-and not be bothered by the baby-” 

“-Coryo,” Your eyes rounded, so pitifully pleading Coriolanus would have walked through fire for you if you asked him to. “Please? I just want to see our baby.” 

And how could he say no? He couldn’t, so instead, Coriolanus called the nurse in. Your parents, proud grandparents, holding the baby, tutting over you. Everyone flitting about the birthing room, Tigris even gleaming with joy at the birth of her nephew. All except Coriolanus, who watched in the corner of the room, a stoic look on his face. 

You looked positively radiant, glowing with joy as you held your son. As if that baby hadn’t nearly killed you, Coriolanus wanted to scream the reminder to you, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t dare upset you, risk upsetting you in front of your family. 

“Coriolanus,” Tigris’ soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, brought him away from his own sinking, heavy feelings of disappointment. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, Tigris.” Coryo’s voice was tight, firm and forced, like the look of awkward contentment he tried to paint across his features. 

“You… You haven’t held your son.” Tigris hesitated, voice dropping softly so the others wouldn’t overhear. 

“I don’t wish to hold him right now.” Coriolanus sneered. 

“He is your son, Coriolanus.” Tigris hissed, her voice dropping to a low hush in the room, terrified you or the others might hear. 

“And he almost killed her.” Coryo’s eyes flashed to Tigris’ in horrified rage. “Nearly fated her as my sister did my mother, and if you think for one second I am to be happy at that, then you are-” 

“-Coryo,” Your voice croaked, still weak and tired. It made his heart lurch, attention on you in a second, already walking towards your bedside. 

“Yes, my love? What do you need?” Coriolanus muttered. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, showing such affection especially in front of your parents, but he hoped they’d pardon his vulnerability in the moment, given the circumstances. 

“Look at him,” Your eyes shone with love, pure adoration, as if you weren’t cradling the very thing that almost killed you. It made Coryo sick. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” 

Coriolanus looked down at the small newborn, wrapped in swaddles, eyes closed and lips twitching with the faintest whimper of a cry. He looked so much like you, so much like himself- the perfect blend of the two of you taking your lips but Coriolanus’ nose. 

His heart swelled with pride before he could help it, lips curling in a half smile. He’d grown weak, Coriolanus decided, softened by you and your love. He should be disgusted by the baby, despise him and reject him like an animal in the wild would. But he couldn’t bring himself to it. 

“A fine young boy.” Your father boasted, nodding proudly. “The two of you should be very proud.” 

“Yes,” Coryo swallowed around the lump in his throat. You leaned into his touch, shifting the baby so he could better see him. 

“Any idea on the name?” Your mother hummed, moving beside you. 

“I still think Cyrene would be fitting.” You’re beaming, beautiful and proud when you meet Coriolanus’ gaze. “What do you think, Coryo?” 

“Yes,” Coryo nodded. “I think that would be a fine name.” 

“Cyrene Snow,” You cooed, pressing your nose to the baby’s, pressing a gentle kiss there. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you met Coriolanus’ gaze. “Do you want to hold him, darling?” 

“Are you getting tired?” Coryo watched you carefully. “Do you feel alright?” 

“Yes,” You nodded. “I don’t want to hog the baby. Want you to have a chance too, darling.” 

“That’s alright.” Coryo shook his head politely, suddenly very aware of your parents and Tigris’ gaze on him. “You hold him, my love.” 

You frowned lightly. You knew something was off with Coryo, the tightness in his tone, lips falling in a flat line. You waited until later, when Cyrene lay in his bassinet, your family all gone for the night, just you and Coryo in the birthing suite. 

“Why will you not hold him?” You asked through the still darkness. Coriolanus' eyes snapped to yours fiercely, startled by your tone. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Our baby.” You groaned when you sat up, Coryo rushing to your side. 

“You need to be careful-” 

“-You won’t hold him, Coriolanus.” You gripped his arm, eyes shining in something new- something Coryo wasn’t certain of, but it made his stomach twist. “Why?” 

Coriolanus swallowed, the lump in his throat suffocating him. “The last time I held him,” Coryo’s voice was soft, rasping in the quiet room, barely above a whisper. “You nearly died.” 

The room was still, far too still for either of you to find comfort. A harsh, shocking truth for the both of you, sickening and cruel. Your near damned fated reality, Coriolanus’ worst fears, the peaceful baby resting in the bassinet besides the two of you. 

Pressed into the side of your hospital bed, Coriolanus held you carefully, a stilled reminder that you were still there, that you hadn’t left him. The icy wall he’d built high for his son melted with every soft coo and whisper you gave him, a reminder that you were still with him and would be. 

When Coryo finally held Cyrene again, when he’d stirred awake and you were asleep, he turned to the window overlooking Panem’s Capitol, eyes shining with tears- of regret, joy, pain? Even Coryo wasn’t sure, but he rocked his son to sleep carefully, promising him that one day, he’d have what Coryo had. That he wouldn’t leave him the way his father had, that he’d keep him safe, teach him how to keep you safe.

[chuluoyi]

i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 4

<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. My ko-fi .Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 7.1k

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.

Authors note: sorry for the wait, life challenged me to a knife duel and then I had do go on a workshop and such, bc I’m still unemployed. Also I got sick. Still kinda am. I’ll fix spelling mistakes tomorrow. Read the tags and if you don’t like how this fic is going, stop reading it.

Anyways. Enjoy sinners. Behave. 💖 Consider supporting my coffee addiction on ko-fi bc I’m a good girl and I updated.

The shed was filled with sounds, though nothing had to do with the work of the hybrids. The only thing they were working on was breaking you.

You felt like you were on fire; both from anger and from the pleasure of Soap’s way too skilled tongue. He was fucking you with it, real nasty about it as he forced a finger in next to it, growling into your wetness, seemingly trying to drink up any slick leaving you. His free hand kept your tail out of the way.

Caught in your own personal, rather sexual, hell.

You had almost given up on getting free. Gaz was still pressing your wrists down against the mattresses, tongue out as he wagged his tail, drool dripping down on your chest. Then he grabbed your wrists in one hand, which you could still not break out of, annoyingly so; only to pull up the crop-top that Price had chosen for you earlier.

That got Soap’s attention who barked happily into your pussy which made you growl - but you were distracted by the two fingers suddenly added to the first, to really care about your tits being out. He spread the fingers a little, tail wagging behind him, ears moving to pick up all your sounds.

You didn’t get more than that, fingers out before you could take a proper breath.

You growled intensely but there was no mercy; he forced his cock into your poor, dripping hole while you howled with pain - the three idiots daring to mockingly join in on your howl.

Full… in a different way than usual. It was as if your world stopped moving. This - this wasn’t your owner, this was just three brutes he had let into your life. When you had cried and whined about not wanting to live here, you didn’t mean for him to try to fix it with these 3.

Their cocks would never be as nice as John’s.

Hell, you would even take Nik’s.

Soap pulled back a little, before he trusted inside again a little harder than before. A little whimper left you, your eyes closing, trying your hardest to ignore the sparkles you saw behind your eyelids.

His knot, though not fully expanded in any way, pressed against your pussy; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been knotted. You didn’t remember it being a nice one either.

Each thrust made a wave of hate and pleasure run through you and sounds left you at each of them. Your ears tipped back, writhing in the grip of the hybrids.

Worse? They both seemed to get off of it.

They made out above you, Gaz’ bulge pressed against your face, as you watched them kiss each other with an intense heat, nose bumping together in every one of Soap’s thrusts, that hit so deep inside you wailed at every one of them.

Ghost was behind Soap suddenly, grabbing onto his Mohawk and forcing his head back a little.

“C’mon pup, fuck her better than that,” the bigger man snarled and Soap’s thrusts easily became faster, more desperate; his strong fingers digging into the fat of your thighs so hard, that you knew it was a matter of moments before his claws would pierce though your skin.

There were three pair of eyes staring at you as your moans and sobs intertwined into a mess, making you feel smaller than you had for a while.

“Look at you now,” Gaz crooned, his fingers palming your tits, pressing his bulge against your face a little again, “much more sweet now, huh?”

“Sh- uh - ah fuck - shut up.”

Gaz merely snickered at your attempt and as you tried moving your face to nip at his bulge, he easily moved back and slapped your cheek.

It didn’t help in any way that Soap decided to touch your clit in that exact moment. Pain bloomed in your cheek, while pleasure bloomed in your pussy, the little shed filling with lewd and loud sounds of the fucking.

Soap was fucking you so hard and good that it made you whine and howl a little in between your pathetic moans and growls.

Gaz’ grip tightened on you as you fought - a scream left you as Soap leant forward, one hand brutally attacking your clit with clumsy, energetic fingers while he decided to sink his teeth into your shoulder.

It wasn’t a soft bite. In fact, it continued to press into your skin, the fangs pressing deeper and deeper, before it snapped; teeth buried into your skin, breaking the barrier. Together with the thrusts and assault on your clit continuously, it seemed to be what your body had needed.

You came almost silently, twitching and cramping, Soap fucking you through it, growling while his teeth was buried in your skin. It was like everything became white with the intensity of the many feelings all at once, your mind leaving your body for a couple of seconds.

Then, as you felt your mind finally returning, another thing happened… Soap pushed fully in, like the bastard he was! Knot a little expanded, he pushed into your cunt, forcing you to take it.

It was too much; you sobbed with horror and pleasure as his knot fully expanded, effectively binding the two of you together. You could feel his cum fill up your insides, feel the way his cock twitched, Soap moaned and even more seed was forced into you. Your only relief was knowing the implant you had, at least stopped them from knocking you up.

Soap finally let go of you, blood dripping from his mouth like he was a feral animal, hands holding you down as you wailed, trying to get away from the knot. It was too much, too much.

“Bonnie lass,” the mutt crooned at you, leaning forward to run his bloody tongue along your cheek, laughing as you tried biting his hearing aid - before running his tongue over the wound he had left.

He rubbed his head against you like a desperate animal, as if he was a cat and not a dog hybrid, nuzzling against your armpits, even licking them, get his bloody spit all over you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Nikolai entered, it was like all the flowers inside John’s stomach bloomed; the other man easily had all his attention, even if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Didn’t Princess give you the phone?”

“Da - but she said you need mechanic and that is lie,” Nikolai answered, sitting down on the desk that barely creaked beneath him, “I am here - no need for mechanic.”

“Oh, you suddenly know how to fix tractors too?” John couldn’t help but let some of his disbelief seep through his words, making Nikolai snort.

“I do - planes too, if you have one of those, my friend.”

There was an odd peaceful silence in between the two of them; none of them said anything but John felt Nik’s eyes on him nonetheless, undressing him in his mind. The urge to fill this silence with their moans wer— wait.

Silence?

John blinked, listening for another moment for one of his puppy’s dramatic sighs but as none came, looking towards the door, expecting you to be annoyed with having to have left the house… nothing. He looked at Nikolai again, unable to keep the nervousness from his voice.

“Where’s sweetheart?”

Nikolai chuckled darkly, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Playing with the other dogs.”

“… I highly doubt that.” John almost rolled his eyes as he spoke. If there was one thing you had made sure was known ever since they arrived, was that you didn’t want to spend time with them.

“Well, they’re playing with her then,” Nikolai shrugged as John hurried to open one of the apps on his phone, running through the options until he reached the camera in the dog shed. Where his precious puppy were.

Crying and screaming, twisting even as pleasure overtook you, the others too much for you.

Dark want rushed through Price, as he saw them sink their teeth into your soft skin, heard you shriek out another curse and cry bloody murder; the want was overtaken by feeling bad for even putting you in that situation.

“I should go look—“

His phone was taken from his hand as Nikolai then pulled him close; flushed against each other, Nik’s front pressed against his back… cock slowly filling.

“Net,” he rumbled, “you need to stay here.”

“They’ll be too rough,” John argued, watching with both delight and fear as they made you came, “I nee—“

He was pulled into Nik’s lap without warning, the man sitting down in the office chair with a little sigh; his strong hands on John’s own body, sliding beneath the knitted sweater, grabbing onto some of his skin.

“It will be good for her,” Nikolai promised darkly, breathing deeply against John’s neck, as if to take in his taste, “this is why you got them, eh?”

It was; at least, it had been one of the reasons. As much as he loved you, you couldn’t control his life and he had changed everything around the two of you already - it was only fair he made sure you were taken care of too.

“They’ll break ‘er skin,” he muttered, already feeling his cock hardening like a traitor, distracted from the sight of the pups absolutely ruining you, by Nikolai’s warm, rough hands beneath his clothes.

“We will fix her,” Nikolai easily replied, scraping his teeth along John’s neck, as if he was considering doing the same, “let them play- they need to establish hierarchy.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Soap’s knot finally deflated you tried turning away from him, getting on your knees; only for Gaz to push your upper body down again, a hand pressing down between your shoulder blades.

Soap’s tail was thumping against the barely made nest and though he clearly looked blissed out, he still helped Gaz, pressing your head down against the mattress, even as you tried getting away. Scratching at the mattress with your fingers.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Gaz crooned lovingly, “this is what I’ve been dreaming off.”

You growled against the fabric, trying to move away, but his fingers sank into your hips, claws once again pressing dangerously hard into your skin.

His cock filled you up with a couple of thrusts, slower than soap’s intense one; as if he was taking his time enjoying you. A deep huff of pleasure left him and you barked, trying to scratch at Soap.

It earned you a hard slap on the ass, taking you by surprise - and then the thrusts came suddenly and quickly. There was no mercy and you began crying again. The mixed hybrid was growling deeply, moving so that he was fully pressed against your back - hands grabbing your wrist pressing them against the nest.

Then he fucked you. The thrusts were short and sharp, he didn’t pull out as far as Soap had, but it was like a constant hammering instead, without any kind of relief from the pressure. He sniffed and panted into your neck while you wailed - and then he did the same as Soap had.

He sunk his teeth into your skin, fangs pressing deep and breaking skin, and for the second time, you were bitten. Only, Gaz let go much quicker, barking at your cries, before repeating his action.

Never stopping his movement.

No words could leave you. It was animalistic sounds, created from the chaos that the hybrids had forced into your mind, blending hatred and lust together.

It sent shivers down your spine as you tried to drown out Gaz’ words about your ass, about you being a little silly lapdog, about being too spoiled to shut up and accept things didn’t have to go your way.

It felt like he went on forever and you managed to come twice, the second one squirting - which meant you got Soap all up in your business, pushing himself in between Gaz fucking you, lapping up your juices like he was dying of thirst.

It made you attempt to squirm away, his face being pressed against your clit every thrust, together with Gaz’ balls. Gaz was drooling, slobbering all over your shoulders and sinking his teeth into your skin, new places and into your already broken skin.

Chaotic and wrong, moans sept into your threats, promising you would mess them up, which they barely seemed to notice. As if they knew you were more bark than bite, which wasn’t exactly wrong. Soap finally pulled away and Gaz pressed his slightly expanded knot inside you, before pulling it out again, before repeating the motion again and again.

Then Soap was suddenly in your face, pulling your head up by your ears, making you cry out, kissing you slobbingly and intensely - and for once, you proved that you could bite, sanded down teeth or not.

Soap pulled back with a yelp, then a grin appeared on his face a moment later, his own blood mixing into yours, dripping from his lip, as you growled at him.

Of course the crazy pup liked it.

Every time Kyle forced his knot inside again, you cried - every time he forced it out you wailed, gripping the sheets harder, tugging at them while you found yourself screaming, begging for him to just knot you properly. To stop torturing you like that and apparently, it was what Kyle had wanted to hear.

One last time, he forced it inside and pressed further into you than before, almost putting his entire body weight on you; you moaned and whimpered as it got stuck, his cum forced into your womb, just like Soap had done. He continued rolling his hips in small motions, making you sob into the sheet, closing your eyes. Then he bit down yet another time, another spurt of cum inside you.

He gnawed a little on your shoulder like a chew toy and all you could think about was how you would rather have John do this to you.

The pain from everything made you space out, panting into the mattress, sniffling a little. Ignoring the tongues running over your shoulders and neck, how they cooed at you.

Good little puppy. A good bitch now, aren’t you? Knew ye could behave, bonnie lass, just needed some knots. Dinnae throw a fuss. Stupid lil city dog, aren’t ya?

Kyle tugged you and tipped the two of you to the side, ignoring the way you cried out as his knot tugged.

Minutes went by as you waited for the knot to go down, trying your best to remain calm.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You felt sore all over, arms shaking as you tried raising your upper body, wincing at the cum sliding out of you and the way the bite marks stung. You weren’t just worried they had broken skin anymore, you knew they had. Blood was dripping down your arms, in between the already dried and caked parts, only making you feel more horrible.

Your beautiful, beautiful body - your skin. Those brutes! Curse them! Sons of bitches, all of them.

You felt pathetic, needy, weak; never wanting to leave the farm house again.

Gaz lazily barked at you as you tried getting up, but he was laying next to you, clearly blissed out, so you used the moment to escape… or at least attempted to.

A large hand pushed down on your back, the weight pushed upon you, forcing you down with a squeal - Ghost let out a deep growl as a reply.

The moment the hand was away, you scrambled, hearing his knees hit the mattress behind you. Ghost seemingly didn’t care that you tried slipping between his fingers; he merely grabbed your tail and tugged you back, hard. Ignoring your sob of pain, continuing to growl deeply, trying to force his dominance down upon you.

As if there was any question of who was the one in charge here. The sound of a zipper.

“No - fuck, let go, no more, no more!” You attempted pathetically, tears springing to your already puffy eyes, “I can’t - no more!”

“Yes you can,” Ghost just rumbled darkly, Soap and Gaz letting out small barks in support.

You fought him but it didn’t matter.

One hand on your hip, having a tight grab on some of your fat, the other sliding to your front, grabbing your throat - forcing you up on your knees. Your back pressed against his front, his cock thrusting in between your thighs a couple of times.

You cried at the mere sight of the cock in between your thighs. Yes, you were a size queen but not to brutes like them. Mutts, idiots, assholes, working dogs, hounds —

His fat cock entered you in one thrust, making you scream, desperately trying to wiggle away. Any movements merely made the cock slide in a little more, the knot pressing against your hole. Your scream turned silent as he gave a little thrust, your mind going blank, body giving small twitches. Much to the amusement of Ghost if you had to guess from the way he chuckled. Tongue licking your human ear. Gaz was staring with big eyes, Soap panting, drool dripping from his tongue.

You whined. He hadn’t even moved that much, but it felt like the cock was in your throat.

“Look at you, puppy,” he crooned darkly, “all you needed was some knots to shut up, huh?”

You couldn’t reply with anything but a few messy moans and Ghost gave a little thrust more, bullying his cock a little deeper,almost making your eyes cross.

“See how good you can be, hm?” Ghost continued, “tight pussy just needed to be fucked dumb. You’re much sweeter now.”

His hand tightened around your neck, pressing your tags on the collar into your skin. His palm pushed at your chin a little with its size.

“Don’t worry,” Ghost continued, before nosing your shoulder a little, a pitiful cry leaving you as his tongue slid over some of the bleeding, burning bite marks, “we can fuck you whenever ye want, princess. Perfect, innit?”

You tried shaking your head, but then Ghost let go, pushing your upper body down again- you barely managed to save yourself from slamming your head into the mattress.

There was no more waiting. He just grabbed onto your hips, pulled out his cock as far as possible and began to fuck you mercilessly.

Hard, commenting about the way your body jiggled and how lucky they were to end up somewhere with a soft bitch like you; how they would get you used to their cocks, addicted to them. How they would knock you up. Give you all the litters you wanted.

You hated how good it felt, how you cried and moaned, how your body shook and how you came. Unable to escape, crying and barking, ears tipped back.

He delivered a last bite right onto the back of your neck, as he forced his knot inside your poor pussy, filling you up; sinking his fangs into you, breaking the skin as you screamed and came once more, filled up with his knot. Cum unable to escape.

You sobbed into the mattress while stuck to Ghost, who grumbled but didn’t hit you. Gaz and Soap were cooing at you again, licking away tears and nuzzling closer, telling you how good you looked, how much fun you all were going to have.

Then you could hear them kissing above you, but you didn’t look, mind overwhelmed.

It was like you were hot all over; it had been years since you had had a heat and you feared, just for a moment, that your body would spontaneously go into one, from the knotting and biting, the breeding behavior you had just gone through.

It was the familiar feeling of warmth spreading from your chest to your cunt, Ghost growling slightly as you tightened around his knot from the feeling. You were pretty sure your implant was going to save you. Hopefully. The idea of getting knocked up by them right now almost made you want to throw a fit.

But beneath them, being beneath Ghost at the moment, throwing a tantrum would bring you nothing. His clothes pressed against your bare body, save from the top that was pushed beneath your tits, felt too hot.

The shed stunk of sex, blood and sweat. You pretended you didn’t like how the musky, male hybrid scent wasn’t slightly nice. How a little part of you wanted to lick away the sweat drops beneath Ghost’s chin.

Nasty, they were all nasty and you hated them.

You didn’t get up, even as his knot deflated. Ghost rumbled, clearly pleased. Licking at your neck a couple of times.

Then, some of the horses neighed loudly. All three of them stiffened, while you laid there, cum dripping out of you, not caring.

“I’ll go check it out,” Ghost answered, getting up, zipping up as if it was as easy as that. Giving your ass a clap that made your pussy clench around nothing.

The moment he was out the door you were stumbling to your feet, managing to grab John’s jacket. Soap’s tail wagged and he barked, getting up himself - but Gaz held him back.

“Nah, let her run back ‘nd whimper, Soap.”

You didn’t stay to hear the reply. You just bolted to the house, jacket barely on, naked from the waist down. Feet sinking slightly into the muddy parts of the farm, towards the door you had been thrown out earlier.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You were a crying mess, John cooing at you, drying your tears with a worried look in his eyes, while Nik seemed more calm. They both stank of sex but you were too upset to care. Humiliation from not being able to escape them, the need to be cared for, to be loved was overwhelming.

They made you bend over the couch at first, Nik’s fingers pressing into you, John softly hushing you as you cried.

“No tear,” he confirmed a moment after, pulling his fingers out, with a soft pat on your ass.

“Let’s get you a bath, princess.” You nodded while whining, clinging onto Nik as he lifted you up.

“We might need to get those checked out,” Nik nodded towards your shoulders and back and you looked over at John, who didn’t look too happy. Even Nik, who was much more calm, didn’t seem to be too enthusiastic despite how he hadn’t stepped in earlier.

The water in the tub was nice. Usually you would fight a little when it came to showers, but you were putty in their soft hands, carefully helping you get free of mud, dried blood and cum.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Alex Keller and Farah Karim appeared just around ten minutes later, parking in the big driveway, near the barn. They had apparently just visited Rudy and Rodolfo, or at least so you heard them talking about in the entrance.

Normally you would be barking at the mere door opening, curiosity overwhelming over who could give you attention now.

You were laying on your stomach on the couch, wearing panties and with a blanket over you, fur and hair still a little damp.

“There she is,” Farah mused as she entered the living room, taking in your otherwise quiet demeanor in contrast to your usual intense one, “poor puppy got all messed up, huh?”

A barely audible growl left you.

“Cut her some slack, Farah,” Alex said, following after her, his new fancy prosthetic leg that was electrical, saying a soft noise you assumed wasn’t something the humans could hear.

“He won’t send them away,” you just replied, sending John a stink eye, which made Nik chuckle while John at least looked a little upset about it.

“We will teach them to be gentle,” Nik mused to which you huffed, because that wasn’t helping one bit.

“Let us see then,” Farah said, stepping over to the couch, while Alex followed, putting their bags down on the table.

You sat up, turning your back towards them, pulling the blanket down to expose your bites, both of the vets stepping closer.

Alex let out a little whistle. Your ears tipped back a little.

“That is some nasty bites,” Farah agreed and you could hear them put on plastic gloves. Despite your anger towards your owner right now, you sent John a desperate look - and the man was with you in mere seconds, one hand gently holding onto your collar, the other caressing your dog ear, in an attempt to calm you down. You hated how it instantly helped. You didn’t really have good memories with vet visits despite knowing Farah and Alex were always sweet and careful with you.

At the first touch of a gloved hand near your bite, you moved instantly, grabbing onto John’s arm with a whine.

“Sorry lovely,” Farah apologized, “we’ll have to clean them up - I’m afraid two of them might need a stitch or two.”

“We’ll numb the area first, don’t worry,” Alex was quick to add in a softer tone.

If this didn’t prove to John and Nik that the hybrids shouldn’t be near you, you didn’t know what would.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Farah and Alex left half an hour later, with you being prescribed antibiotics and painkillers.

Nik and John spoke in hushed voices while you watched television, John having given you some snacks.

“Nik and I are going to town, Princess,” John said a moment later, entering the room to give you another pat on the head, “we’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“What if they go in here-“ you whined, “I wanna go, I wanna-“

“Hush. You can’t rip the stitches, you’re staying here. We’ll lock the door, Laswell will make sure you’re left alone, alright?”

“MmKay.”

You stayed in the living room most of the day, watching rom coms and reality television. Nothing like watching two hybrids fall in love, but not being allowed to meet, their owners despising each other.

When your owner and Nik returned, they had brought several things - most importantly, some nicely baked cake for you, as a treat. Your tail wagged while eating it. If you closed your eyes, it was like you were back in the city again.

Imagining you weren’t out in the country, that you were in a fancy apartment and not an old farmhouse; that the sounds in the background was the music of the city and not—

The sounds of a cow mooing. You huffed, took another bite, closing your eyes and daydreamed once more.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Go on, then.”

You blinked at John’s voice, sterner than last time, for a moment afraid if you’d done anything wrong. The painkillers were making you a little slow, so you blinked a couple of times, before you were able to focus your eyes on the people in the living room.

And instantly tip your ears back in a growl at the sight of the three hybrids, John and Nik standing behind them.

“Go away.” You growled, to which Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes and shooting John a look. John merely crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at him. As if to dare him to not follow the order they’ve been told.

“I’m sorry that I hurt ye, cuilean. I dinnae mean tae. Nae this badly.” It was Soap who said it first, actually looking apologetic as you laid there on the couch, staring at them, Gaz nodding along.

“Yeah sorry,” Gaz’ ears were tipped down, tail even a little between his legs, “we won’t bite you again like that, I swear, we never meant to hurt you.”

You wanted to get them castrated. Despise not really liking their apologies, you looked over at Ghost then, waiting. The big guy didn’t say anything, just stared at you - that was until Soap elbowed him in the ribs, the pale man finally grunted out; “Sorry sweetheart.”

John looked expectantly at you, a small smile on his face, as if to say ‘look! They can be good!’. You scrunched your eyebrows together in a frown. That was it?

You deserved poems, movies, dances, songs, art pieces created in a mere attempt of apologising properly.

“I still hate you.”

It made Soap laugh, grinning with all his teeth, while John groaned behind them, touching his face. Nik seemed amused too however.

“Good enough for now. We will work on bonding later, da?”

“They can bond with each other,” you answered, curling together on the couch, “bite each other to pieces.”

“We apologized,” Ghost argued in a dry voice, as if he barely believed in it himself.

“Fuck off.”

Ghost smiled at your stubbornness, before letting John kick them into the kitchen so that they could be fed before being sent out again.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Your time with them was limited for a couple of days, much to your enjoyment. You got extra attention, John and Nik were careful around you — John did eat you out on the third day, when you became frustrated, Nik cooed at you in Russian as you came. Even Laswell was a little nicer to you.

You got scratches beneath your chin, kisses and touches and the pain meds helped stop the thundering pain from the bite marks, which were at least healing nicely.

You slept at your master’s - and his boyfriend’s - feet, leisuring around the house while they worked throughout the day.

Apparently the military bastards knew how to do their jobs, at least. They stopped and caught a fox before it got a chicken, kept the wolves at bay and helped throughout the day. They made sure to watch at night, too apparently.

Then it was rainy one day… and it rained a lot that night. It seemed to never end and when you were called to eat breakfast, you had assumed the working dogs were out. But they weren’t.

In fact, two of them stood in the doorway, close to the dinner table, watching as their third pack mate, Soap, quietly sat on the bench while Nikolai and John looked him over. They all had damp hair and Gaz’s and Ghost’s boots were covered in mud, making you scrunch your nose in disgust. Dirty mutts.

“Good morning bird,” Gaz greeted, looking over you and smiling as you coughed so that they would move. They did so and you stepped into the kitchen, not answering the greeting.

It was only when you passed him that Soap looked up and grinned at you.

“Hiya bonnie lass,” his words sounded… slurred in a way. A tad too loud, but his tail was thumping at the sight of you. You huffed, looking at Nikolai as he sighed and put down a piece of tech you didn’t know.

“I’m afraid you need to fix by professional,” Nikolai said, looking at John, “it’s all completely ruined.”

“Hm, that’s what I figured,” John said, “alright. We’ll go get it done today, just so he can feel better soon.”

“Gonna do what?” You asked as you sat down at your common spot, looking confused for a moment - then Nikolai pointed to the technology that was dripping with water and mud.

“Soap’s hearing aid is broken,” Nik replied, “we have to get a new one.”

“You guys can go out and help Laswell - I’m gonna go to town together with Soap and—“

Growls.

You tried making yourself smaller, even though they weren’t raised towards you.

“We’re not leaving him.”

“What is dae matter?” Soap’s voice was loud, as his head turned from person to person.

John was staring at Ghost who had crossed his arms.

“It won’t take long,” John replied but Ghost just growled again.

“No.”

“Ghost,” John’s voice was kept calm but steady, “Soap’s not going to get hurt. We will get him fitted for one and find a kind that fits him the best - then we’ll come back. Bringing you two along won’t be necessary.”

Ghost didn’t look one bit convinced but John turned towards Soap anyways, leaning closer to his human ear on the left side of his face.

“You’ll need new hearing aids,” he explained, voice loud and words clear, “Nikolai and I will take you to town to get them fixed.”

He pulled back and Soap looked confused but nodded.

“I dinnae want to make trouble,” he promised, ears tipping back a little, “I can make it work!”

John shook his head, giving Soap a small smile before reaching up and giving his head a pat. His tail instantly began to wag again.

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” John answered, keeping his voice loud, “it’s okay. You would need new ones eventually.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

John and Nikolai left after breakfast, with the herding dog in the backseat, muzzle on his face - just in case.

You had forgotten the fact Soap had lost some of his hearing, though you had noticed the hearing aid now and again.

Ghost and Gaz didn’t seem one bit happy with their bonded mate leaving, even though they knew he would be back. Laswell was using them though, making them help fix things, so you dared to relax again, enjoying the little sun ray that hit one of your dog beds perfectly.

The peace and quiet that you had enjoyed and the lack of attempts at being forced to spend time with the men was seemingly coming to an end, at least for one specific pup.

Soap was back, giant grin on his face but no hearing aids, since they apparently decided to buy a fancy kind that had to be shipped to the clinic in the nearest town.

Which meant Soap was in house rest for the next couple of days.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

At first Soap left you alone, merely staying close but not messing with you. He slept in one of your dog beds, muttering - or at least trying to - about how nice and soft it was.

All you could think about was that it needed to get washed, because you weren’t sleeping in something that stank of him. You even suspected he jerked off into the fuzzy fabric. Nasty.

John had merely told you to be nice and share when you complained; that Soap wasn’t used to being indoors like this, wasn’t used to remaining still and not having something to do - that he didn’t like not being able to hear.

You tried, at least a little, to be overbearing, making it rather visible when he got too close and you didn’t like it.

He would disappear now and again to see his mates, and come back with a wagging tail, salvia wet lips and a pleased smile on his face.

As long as he kept his distance.

It was on the second day however, when taking a nap in your own room, in the fuzzy, soft dog bed, that the mutt caught you off guard.

You slowly woke to a nice and pleasurable feeling, letting out a deep pleased sigh as you blinked a couple of times, slightly confused over what was making you feel this way. Of why your legs felt slightly cold. Only to blink a couple of times, half lidded eyes looking down — seeing Soap with his dirty paws on you, tongue halfway into your cunt.

His tail was wagging, ears turning towards you and he didn’t even stop when he realized you had woken up. If anything, he just quickened his tongue’s movement, thrusting it into your cunt, tightening his hands on your thighs.

“‘S okay, Bonnie lass,” he cooed, a slight slurred tone to his voice as he pulled back a little, tongue and slick dripping from his mouth and chin, before he crawled up to you. You didn’t have time to protest, the bigger hybrid settling in behind you, the lack of his own pants clear as he settled against your back, his cock pressing against your asscheeks. His hands slid around your body, holding you close and letting out a deep breath as if the both of you just woke from the nap.

You twitched slightly and he kissed you cheek, “dinnae throw a fit, please,” he mumbled against it, voice still a little loud.

“I will yell for master,” you warned with a growl. The other just let out a “mhmm,” in agreement and you weren’t really sure whether he had truly heard your threat or not. Even if he had, you weren’t sure if it would have stopped him.

Despite your confused and tired attempt at pulling free, squirming and attempting to claw at whatever you could reach, it was no help.

His cock slid into your pussy, which was looser than you liked. Your eyes rolled back for a moment and Soap let out a deep growl, that sounded more pleased than anything.

You writhed, unable to help it, the cock hitting you so well, which you didn’t like. Well, you liked it, the pleasure, but you didn’t want to give in.

You cried out at a deeper thrust, Soap moaning as well; it started deep in his chest and turned more high pitched, more needy. He was careful with your shoulders, keeping you pressed so close you couldn’t move them. The stitches were almost ready to come out and though there was a slight pain, it was not too much.

He fucked you better than you liked, whimpering behind you like a needy mutt in rut.

You couldn’t control your moans and cries, attempting to keep it down, to pretend you weren’t enjoying it. His thrusts were deep but quick, sending your mind spiraling. His knot teased your opening with each movement.

You moaned so loud it was bordering on a scream when he came, knotting you. Carefully licking your cheek, catching a few of your tears with a pleased hum.

It was barely a minute later before John opened the door quickly, looking worried, apron on, presumably making lunch - instantly looking at you. He blinked at the sight of you and Soap, before visibly calming, even smiling. How dared he, traitor, mea—

You let out a small sound as Soap wagged his tail, it thumbed against your bed quickly, making you mewl a little as the movement rushed through his hips and making his cock move, inside your cunt. The knot moving and pressing inside you, making you unable to breathe for a second, eyes rolling up.

Soap licked against your cheek and you pawed at his hands on you, ears tipped back a little.

“Horny pups,” said almost lovingly by Price who then patted your head, and you whined, annoyed by how you were stuck to Soap - or well, to his cock.

“Don’t like him, Sir,” you whined, using your best needy voice, ignoring Price’a raised eyebrow as another thrust made you gasp again.

“You seem to get along fine,” he just answered, patting Soap’s head to prove to the other man that it was fine - he moved Soap’s head to the side for a moment, taking a look at your shoulders, to make sure nothing was bleeding, “everything seems good. He can control himself then.”

“Castrate them,” you just replied, “cut off their dicks.”

John Price laughed. You still loved his laughter even if he didn’t understand your hatred for the mutts he had decided to add to the farm.

“When you get untangled, there’s lunch in the kitchen.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

When Farah and Alex returned to look at your wounds and remove your stitches, you felt your tail instantly go between your legs, ears down.

“It’s fine. I’m doing fine,” you argued, not making one move towards sitting down on the couch like last time. You knew Farah and Alex were only there to help you; however, you weren’t in pain like last, your mind saw no reason for them to be there. Surely the stitches would fall out or something?

“Princess,” your owner stepped towards you, your tail curling even further between your legs, “it’s fine, they’re gonna chec—“

You stumbled backwards, almost falling into Soap’s chest. He seemed confused at the sudden appearance of the two vets, who were smiling gently at the two of you. Yet when you curled around and behind him, he instantly straightened up.

You could hear Nik laugh. “They have been bonding!”

“Shut it, Nik,” John just answered while Alex huffed, your owner stepping closer, “darling, come on. We will be done in a minute.”

“They’ll file down my teeth.”

“Wha- no, of course they won’t, princess. You know I won’t let them do that.”

You sniffled, holding onto Soap’s shirt. There was a low growl from Soap.

You still very much hated him, but you could have kissed him.

“Dinnae.” Was all he said, slightly slurred and a little loud, but still. Body tense.

“She needs her stitches checked.” Farah’s voice cut through the room, loud and clearly not filled with patience, “we are here to clean them and remove them.”

Soap’s body language calmed down a little and you wanted to hit him, for giving up so easily. What kind of fucking safety was he supposed to offer when he gave in line this? Maybe you should just ask Farah to castrate him and the two other mutts while she was here.

“Sit,” John pointed towards the couch and Soap moved - pulling you by the arm, while you barked and argued a little.

In the end you curled up against him, John petting your hair, as they removed the stitches.

By now, everything seemed to be going as they should.

It wasn’t like when you got the fangs filed down or when you were declawed, but you were still afraid. Not that they could take much more from you.

Despite not liking either Farah or Alex being there, you still took the treat they offered you - managing to get it into your mouth before Soap could get too interested. He got his own and you didn’t like how both your tails wagged. But you allowed it for now.

The treat wasn’t as good as the weird one Nik had fed you the first day. You let out a dramatic sigh on the couch, making John roll his eyes - but he scratched your stomach a little before moving on, to do whatever it was farmers did.

You just ignored Soap, he was wagging his tail like a lovesick puppy next to you, sniffing your hair. You still hadn’t forgiven him or the others for anything.

His hearing aids came later that day. You kept your distance, watching Gaz and Ghost help him get it set up right, Nik and John right by them.

You wasn’t really upset that Soap went back outside… were you?

No. Not at all.

[skzdarlings]

chill | the threesome series ; skz ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin

masterlist.

threesome series part 4/4. long awaited finale lol.

summary: when a lie about a fake boyfriend spirals out of control, your friends take it upon themselves to help.

pairing: hyunjin/reader/jeongin content info: friends to lovers romcom. fake relationship trope. sharing a bed trope. lots of teasing and bickering and indignant exclamations. some bossy dom!hyunjin and sweet jeongin. reader is described with a bigger chest. kissing w people watching. sex toys, dacryphilia, no mention of protection, threesome, explicit sexual content word count: 8440 words.

enjoy <3

-

Your bottom lip is already wobbling when you click call.   You sprawl on your belly, front-down in a frilly pink bed in your childhood bedroom.  You are visiting your parents in the countryside, miles away from your apartment in the city and miles away from your best friends. 

You are calling them now, desperate for their friendly faces.  Your boys are the first ones you call in any crisis.  You don’t know what you would do without them.  Just the thought has you sniffling despondently. 

After a few more rings, Jeongin and Hyunjin answer one right after the other.  Your phone is filled with three little squares of faces, theirs smiling and yours utterly miserable.      

You look at those smiles and promptly burst into tears. 

“Ahh!” Hyunjin wails. 

“Ohh, whoa, what!” Jeongin says.

Both of them look concerned, all scrunched up brows and frowning faces.  At least you think so.  It is hard to see through your tears. 

“Baby, baby,” Hyunjin says.  At the same time, Jeongin asks, “What’s wrong?”

You cry a few more weepy sobs, then you grab the closest teddy bear and wipe your eyes on it.  You sniffle and pout. 

Even though you want their comfort, you can’t bring yourself to look at your friends when you admit, “I’ve been lying to my parents for months.” 

“What?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Huh?”  Jeongin says.

You blink away your tears and look at them properly.  They are the very picture of concern.  They have such striking faces so their emotions are always so plain, their features sharp, with thick dark brows and sloping cheeks and full lips.  Jeongin dyed his hair a fairer auburn a while ago, but Hyunjin is dark, both of them so handsome it makes you hiccup on a caught breath.  

These thoughts make you feel even more pathetic.  Here you are, gawking at your best friends while everything falls apart around you. 

You drop your face and cry some more.  They watch helplessly through their screens, saying your name and trying to calm you down. 

“What happened?” Hyunjin asks when your tears have slowed. 

“Remember a few months ago, when I went out with that guy who works at the coffee shop?”

“Yes, I hated him,” Jeongin says in a clipped tone while Hyunjin scoffs. 

“Me too,” Hyunjin says.  Their sour faces speak volumes. 

“What!”  This distracts you from yours tears for a moment.  “You guys told me you liked him!”

“Yeah, only because you did,” Jeongin says.  He is in his bedroom and he flops back on his bed, his mop of hair forming a charming halo around his head.  He grins that dimpled, mischievous grin at you.  “But now you don’t like him, so we hate him.”

“I always hated him,” Hyunjin says.  He is sitting at his desk, lit so prettily by lamplight that it looks like a dreamy filter.  He props his face in his hand and pouts dramatically.  “You didn’t need him anyway, baby,” he says.  “You’ve always got us.” 

At the same time Hyunjin says this, Jeongin tucks a hand under his head.  He is wearing a sleeveless top and his bicep flexes where his bare arm curves.  Between Hyunjin’s pretty face and prettier words, and Jeongin looking like that, it is no wonder how quickly heat rushes to your face. 

You bury your face in the blankets and shriek, frustrated with everything in your ridiculous life.  They are still looking at you with concern when you surface. 

“Sorry,” you say.  “The point is, my mom would ask about him.  You know what my parents are like and how much they want me to be in a relationship.” 

You love your family, you do.  You do not regret using visiting your parents.  The dinners and tea times and game nights have been a delight.  You have been proud to catch them up on your life in the city.  You are happy with your life, your education and your job and your friends.  Your parents are proud of you. 

They just cannot help but poke that one little detail, snagging like a loose thread on a nail and unravelling your careful composition with their obvious judgement. 

You are not in a relationship.  You have never been in a relationship.

Oh, sure, there have been dates scattered here and there, but nothing serious.  You are fine with this but your parents consider this cause for catastrophic levels of concern. 

You try to show grace.  Your family is only nosy out of misplaced worries, convinced that if you do not have a boyfriend then you must sobbing yourself to sleep every night.  Which is not true.  Well, sometimes it’s true, especially because your two best friends are the ones making your heart race, but most of the time you just eat cheese toast in bed. 

To assuage the worst of their concerns, you maybe exaggerated the truth a teensy tiny bit. 

“Well,” you say, “They were so happy that I went on more than one date, so it got them off my case for a while.  After we went our separate ways, I sort of just… kept telling them… I was still seeing him…”

“Uh oh,” Jeongin says.  Hyunjin grimaces.  Yeah, your friends know you well.  They have never met your family but they know the stories and they can guess where this is going. 

“Yeah, uh oh is right,” you say.  “My mom invited me out here for their summer party.  They throw one every year to start the season.  They invite the whole family and all their friends and their friends’ kids.  It’s huge.  I wasn’t even thinking when I said I would come because I always do.  Only when I agreed did my mom tell me to bring my boyfriend for everyone to meet… at which point I remembered…”

“That you don’t actually have a boyfriend?”  Jeongin asks with a quirked eyebrow.  Hyunjin laughs, covering his mouth with a quick slap of his hand to hide it. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a miserable whine.  “It’s not funny.  I messed up and now I don’t know what to tell them!”

“What did you tell them so far?” Jeongin asks while Hyunjin tries to get his face under control. 

“I was going to tell them the truth when I got here,” you say.  “But then they were so disappointed that my boyfriend wasn’t with me.  I couldn’t disappoint them even more by saying he didn’t exist at all in the first place!” 

“So you told a bigger lie instead,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head questioningly.  “What did you say exactly?” 

“I just said he was busy with work,” you say.  “And they were really upset about it so I tried to cheer them up.  I said he was going to try and make it to the party at least.” 

“But he’s not real,” Jeongin says. 

“Yes, Jeongin!” you squeal.  “That’s the problem!  And also—”  A flood of tears return, blurring your vision again.  “I know it’s so stupid.  We’re all grown-ups now.  But I was the youngest out of all the kids growing up, so I was always the dumb little tag-along.  My mom has told everyone I have a boyfriend coming and if I make up an excuse tomorrow, they’re all gonna see through it.  They’ll be nice to my face because we aren’t kids anymore but I already know they’re gonna talk about me and how pathetic I am.”  You start crying again, looking around at the bedroom you grew up in, still filled with the books and clothes and toys you left behind after moving.  It makes you feel like that little girl again.  It only worsens your angst.  “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” you say. 

“Aw, no, no, it won’t,” Jeongin says. 

“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Hyunjin also says.  They both speak in the sweetest tones imaginable, gazing so lovingly into their cameras it makes you melt. 

“You know you’re better than that,” Jeongin says.    

“Yeah, who cares what they think?” Hyunjin adds. 

“I care,” you say in a small voice, looking away again because you feel so embarrassed.  “At least a little bit.  I know it’s silly.” 

“It’s not,” Hyunjin says.  At the same Jeongin says, “It is but it’s fine.”  They both scowl at the camera as if frowning at each other.  It makes you laugh through your tears.  You wipe your eyes on the teddy bear again. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” you say.  “I just have to face it.  It’s my own fault.  Maybe if I could just get a boyfriend for real, if I didn’t suck so much—”

“You’re perfect,” they say in unison.  It seems to make all three of you look flustered at once. 

“Seriously,” Hyunjin says while Jeongin clears his throat.  “You’re our girl.”

“Yeah, everyone is else is just stupid,” Jeongin says. 

“You only need to listen to us,” Hyunjin says. 

“Listen to me, not him,” Jeongin teases.  “He’s kinda stupid too.”

“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says in a perfectly catty voice.  Jeongin sticks his tongue out. 

Their antics make you laugh.  You rest your cheek on the teddy bear and kick your legs behind you, smiling into your screen. 

“Okay,” you say.  “In that case, just distract me until I go to bed.  It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.” 

They both smile at you.  They waste no time obliging, launching into stories and playful bickering, making you forget about everyone and everything else.  They are your boys.  They are all you need. 

You go to bed with a smile on your face.

-

That smile is gone the next day.  You are a bundle of raw nerves all morning.  Despite the food being prepared, you cannot imagine eating, so sick to your stomach with anxiety.  Your parents ask about your boyfriend and you answer in vague replies and half-promises.  You claim he is still working but you are optimistic.  You cry your make-up off only once, which is ten times less than you thought you would. 

At least you look pretty.  You bought a new dress for the occasion, a pretty floral piece that sweeps the floor with a delicate swish.  If you are going to suffer, at least you will suffer beautifully. 

You are standing in front of the mirror, practicing lines and excuses and grimacing at all of them.  You are interrupted when your mother calls you downstairs, the first of the guests arriving.

Here goes nothing, you think. 

You take a deep gulp of air and descend the stairs, plastering a big fake smile on your face as you greet the party guests. 

They come in waves.  Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbours, friends.  You greet everyone pleasantly.  There are so many people and so many conversations that you manage to sink into the background of every discussion, batting queries about your own private life with questions for someone else. 

You start to wonder if you worried for nothing, then someone directly asks about your boyfriend.  Not just someone, but one of the girls in your age group. 

“Your mother didn’t know much, she said you were quite evasive about it!” she says.  She is not being unkind because she currently has no reason to believe you are lying.  It will be later, when everyone realizes this mystery man is not manifesting, then everyone will start to gossip and draw conclusions.  This is just the beginning of a long, agonizing party.  “Is he going to be here?” she asks.  “I can’t wait to meet him!  He’s your first boyfriend, right?” 

You love your mom, but she really is such a blabbermouth. 

You laugh awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. 

“Ha-ha, yeah, I was, um, just waiting for the, uh, right person, you know,” you say. 

Someone else opens their mouth to ask more when the doorbell rings.  

“Oh, I better get that!” you say and leap out of your seat.  You give no one a chance to protest, scampering around bodies to get out of the backyard and into the house.  You run past your father who is ambling to the door, telling him you got it.  You want to let the guest inside then stand in the front yard to catch your breath.  Hopefully, by the time you go back, the conversation will have moved on. 

You swing open the door, a polite greeting on your lips.  It catches when you see who is standing there.

“Jeongin!” you exclaim. 

Your best friend is standing on your porch, grinning that big cheshire cat smile. He is an absurdly sexy vision.  Jeongin is a tech guy but he takes modelling gigs on the side, fashion a personal hobby to him.  His auburn hair is neatly styled around his face, a slash of colour in an otherwise all-black look.  It makes him look long and fit, loose pants and a dress shirt over a sleeveless top, topped with a leather jacket.  A silver chain sparkles around his neck. 

He swoops in and kisses your cheek, giggling to himself. 

“I heard someone needed a boyfriend,” he says. 

You laugh a little hysterically, all the joy returning to your body in a rush.  You slap your hands on your hot cheeks and look him up-and-down. 

“Oh, wow,” you say.  “You shouldn’t have.  But you look really good.”

Your eyes are on the tip of his black boots.  He is looking at you too, his eyebrows lifted as his gaze travels down your body. 

“Yeah,” he says on a breath.  “You too.”

Flustered, you cover yourself then swat at him.  It makes him grin again, cheek dimpled. 

“Stop that,” you say.  “You’re not allowed to say things like that to me.  And I’ve been sweating like a stuck pig under here.  I feel like I should do the grown-up thing and come clean and send you away, but I’m not gonna do that. Come on.”  You loop your arm with his elbow and drag him through the house to the back yard. 

Seconds before joining the party, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Then as your boyfriend, I’m allowed to tell you that you looking really fucking good.  Okay?” 

You very literally fall into the yard.  Fortunately, Jeongin keeps his balance and yanks you upright.  You stumble into his open arms, your back plastered to his chest.  He is probably smiling that big grin at everyone as he keeps his arms around you.

“Hi,” he finally says and offers a little wave. 

“Ahhh!” your mother screams more gleefully than a clown horn.  She immediately starts hollering for your father. 

“He’s inside getting some food ready, mom,” you say, covering your face in embarrassment as she scuttles up to you. 

“My goodness, my goodness,” your mother says, all but throwing you to the side to get to Jeongin.  “Oh, I’ve heard so much.  No, actually, that’s not true, I haven’t heard anything.  Tsk, crazy girl.  Always with her secrets.  But look at you, oh my, you’re so handsome!  Look at those dimples.”

“Mom!” you wail.  “Stop pinching his cheeks!” 

Someone sitting nearby tugs your skirt.  It is the girl from before and she is grinning.  He’s hot, she mouths very blatantly, winking at you.  You smile an awkward, too-wide grin, still more embarrassed than not.  Everyone is chattering, looking at you and Jeongin.  A couple others smile and give you a thumbs up.  You pretend to be very preoccupied with a speck on your dress, focussed on scratching it off so you do not have to meet any eyes. 

In the midst of all the madness, the doorbell rings again.  You hear your father inside, shouting that he will get it.

“Oh, hurry up!” your mother shouts.  “You have to meet—oh goodness, what is your name?” she asks, even while she has a hand in his hair. 

“Ha, ah, Jeongin,” he says, managing to politely extricate himself.  He takes her hand and pats it affectionately.  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, then winks at you.  Your mother looks at you with a delighted smile.  You refrain from smacking your forehead. 

At least things can’t get worse, you think, right before things get worse. 

Your father steps into the yard, smiling a big smile. 

“Ah, my little girl!” he says, waving at you.  “Your boyfriend is here!  Everybody, this is Hyunjin.” 

Your heart was racing with adrenaline a moment ago.  Now, it freezes solid.  It feels like a cement block dropping right into your gut.  You are not sure if the entire party actually goes quiet or if your ears just give up to protect you. 

You are helpless, standing stock still as your other best friend steps onto the deck behind your father.  Coincidentally and preposterously, he is dressed almost identical to Jeongin, all in black with a black leather jacket.  He is wearing sunglasses, though, which he pushes onto the top of his head when he sees Jeongin. 

Jeongin stares back at him, then he looks at you.  Hyunjin looks at you.  Your mother looks at you.  Everyone looks at you.

“Um,” you squeak.  

Wow, that speck on your dress really is so very interesting.  And why is it so hard to swallow?  Where is your tongue again?  Oh, why did you ever have to tell such a stupid lie, just for a few moments of convenience.

You clear your throat and look up.  Your voice comes in a croak when you say, “Hi, Hyunjin.” 

“Hyunjin,” your mother says, looking at him.  He blinks at her.  Jeongin is handsome but Hyunjin is the definitive pretty boy, an artist behind the camera but just as suited to a life in the spotlight.  His artistic soul really shines through in every capacity.  Even his smile is a work of art, delicate and sweet as he looks at your mother.  He would have made a perfect fake boyfriend if you didn’t already have one. 

Somehow you went from no boyfriends to two.  No, not even, because they are fake.  You went from no boyfriends to negative-two boyfriends.  That must be a feat. 

“Ohhhh,” your mother suddenly interrupts the silence.  She starts giggling as she tip-toes to Hyunjin like a panther about to pounce.  “I see what’s happening,” she says, looking slyly between the three of you.  Then she grabs Hyunjin by the cheeks as well, shaking him around like a baby rattle.  “My little girl has TWO handsome boyfriends!” she cries out ecstatically.  “Oh, that’s just like her too.  You know, she was a late bloomer in every respect, but always caught up and surpassed everyone after the fact.  Struggled at school when she was little, then grew up and got herself on the dean’s list at university.  You know she didn’t even grow breasts until she was eighteen then ballooned right up, the biggest you’ve seen!”

“Mom!”

Jeongin and Hyunjin look at your chest at the same time.  You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, making them both clear their throat and look away. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother says, finally freeing Hyunjin.  He and Jeongin stand together, rubbing their cheeks.  They watch as your mother takes your hand.  “I understand now why you were to hesitant to give us any details.  But it’s a brave new world.  There’s all sorts of different loves out there.  I’ve been reading books!” 

“Exactly,” your father says, joining you in the middle of the party.  “We would never judge you for who you love.”

“That’s great,” you say.  This conversation would be really sweet if it wasn’t about your negative-two boyfriends and happening in front of fifty people.  “Thanks,” you say. 

Your father is holding barbeque tongs.  He claps them in the air and smiles.

“Great!” he says.  “Who’s hungry!”

-

It isn’t until much later that you get a second alone with Hyunjin and Jeongin.  It is well after dinner when the sun is starting to set and the party has dispersed to different corners of the yard.  Your parents are with some friends, seated around a fire, so you drag your fake boyfriends into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. 

You slam the door shut.   

“Seriously!” you shriek.  “You didn’t think to tell each other you were going to show up to be my fake boyfriend?!” 

They both look chagrined, Jeongin with his arms crossed and Hyunjin rocking on the balls of his feet.  They look at each other with a grimace, then try to smile at you.

“Don’t give me that look,” you say, then groan, leaning against your closed door.  You cover your face with your hands.  “This is insane.  My life is a joke.  Hwang Hyunjin, don’t even think about touching anything.”  You point to Hyunjin even though your eyes are covered.  You don’t need to see him to know he is reaching for something, always sticking his gossipy nose in places it doesn’t belong.  When you drop your hands, you catch him hovering near your head table.  He smiles nervously.  “Sit down,” you say, unamused.   

Jeongin and Hyunjin plop onto the bed at the same time.  They look rather ridiculous in the black and leather, contrasted to all the pink and white lace of your old bedroom.  Ridiculous, yes, and definitely not stupidly sexy.  The contrast between two sexy bad boys and your floral cuteness is absolutely not a turn-on.  It’s not.  No.  No.  You refuse. 

“Sorry,” Jeongin finally says.  “We should have checked first.  With you, at least.”

“Yeah, baby, seriously,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head.  “I feel really embarrassed.  You know we would never want to hurt you, right?”

“You were just crying so much,” Jeongin says. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Hyunjin says.

They keep speaking in their defense.  You start to pout, feeling guilty, because they are so sincere in their apology.  It is very obvious they did not do this to embarrass you.  The complete opposite.  Your friends love you so much and it is obvious in everything they do.  From the day you met them, Jeongin and Hyunjin have happily dropped everything to help you with anything.  No task has ever been too big or too small.  If it’s for you, they will do it.  You are the exception to every rule and the first call every time.  

They are your boys.  You are their girl.   

“I’m sorry too,” you say.  “In fact, I’m even more sorry.  This whole thing is my fault, after all.  I should have never lied in the first place.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, we all do stupid things,” Hyunjin says. 

“It’s not like you knew it would get this bad,” Jeongin adds. 

“I definitely don’t think she predicted this,” Hyunjin quips, looking at him.  It makes Jeongin snort and Hyunjin grins. 

It makes you laugh as well, though you cover your mouth to hide it. 

It’s no good.  Once the first giggle escape, they are relentless.  The three of you laugh until there are tears in your eyes, doubled over as the silly situation washes over you.  When the laughter has somewhat subdued, Hyunjin holds out a hand in offering. 

“Come here,” he says. 

You take his hand and he tugs you towards them.  You find yourself squished between them, framed between their bodies like a little flower.  Jeongin puts a hand on your lower back and Hyunjin brushes his knuckles over your cheek.  Both touches are innocent but the combination has your face heating.

Not just your face.  Heat rushes everywhere, cascading down your chest, swooping in your belly and lower.  Your toes even curl. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hyunjin says.  He smiles while holding your gaze. “You know we’ll help you no matter what, okay?” 

Jeongin kisses your shoulder and you cannot hide your shiver.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.    

There is a moment of tense silence after this.  You look between them and they look at you.

You all jump when there is a knock at your door.  Hyunjin falls right off the bed, sprawling in an ungainly clatter of long limbs on the floor.  Jeongin scoots to the side, less dramatic but still surprised.  You sit straighter.  Hyunjin groans and rubs his head. 

The door opens and your mother pokes her head inside, smiling. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.  “But sweetie, there will be time to be alone with your boyfriends later, since I assume they’re spending the night.  But right now we have company.  Come spend time with the guests.  Some of the others are using the hot tub and pool.  Do you boys need swim trunks? Yes? I’ll go find some, give me a second.”

No one gets an opportunity to even answer.  She closes the door and disappears as quickly as she came. 

There is another beat of silence, then Jeongin says, “We’re spending the night, I guess?” 

“Ow,” Hyunjin says.  “I think I bruised my elbow.”

“Oh my god,” you say.

-

You putter around the poolside until the sun fully sets.  When it gets dark, the pool lights start to flicker in rainbow patterns so the others gravitate there, splashing through the luminescence.   

You and the boys wander to the hot tub while it is empty.  Jeongin sinks right in like he does not even feel the heat while Hyunjin has to make a dramatic show about every inch of skin that touches it.  You and Jeongin look at each other with matching quirked eyebrows.  You smile affectionately. 

“What? It’s hot,” Hyunjin says, finally sitting. 

“That is how they work,” Jeongin replies.    

You giggle but also drop your gaze.  Your mother managed to find swim clothes that would mostly fit the boys.  Jeongin is shirtless in swim trunks, his wet hair slicked back, that handsome face and all those lean muscles on display.  When did he get so damn fit?  He was always athletic in a subtle, svelte way, but his arms and back ripple with definition now. 

Hyunjin is in a wet suit, one that stops at the knee and elbow.  He is more covered but the solid black swimsuit makes him look so long and lean.  His hair is also damp.  You watch as he rakes his fingers through it, tucking it behind his ears.  He really is absurdly good looking. 

You blame the heat under your skin on the jets. 

“Psst,” Jeongin suddenly whispers.  His foot nudges yours under the water.  “Is that them?” he whispers. 

You try to be subtle, turning your head to see who is there.  A few younger people are sitting in some pool chairs under a torch, chatting and occasionally glancing in your direction.  It is a few of the people you grew up with, the ones you told the boys about. 

You nod at Jeongin, smiling shyly.  You look down at your legs through the rippled distortion of water.  You are wearing a simple one-piece, just as pink and floral as your dress, still a contrast to your boys. 

You look at them in time to catch a mutual nod.  You were spread around the hot tub, a reach of space between your bodies, but they slide until they are pressed up on either side of you.  You look between them, curling your hands in nervous fists on your chest. 

“What is it?” you whisper. 

“We’re your boyfriends,” Hyunjin whispers with a smile.  “Shouldn’t we sit close to you?” 

“Oh,” you squeak.  “I suppose that’s true.”  You swallow, looking at him then at Jeongin.  Your heart is pounding against your hands.  The combination of heat and desire is making you more than a little dizzy.  “Wh-what else should we be doing?” you ask before thinking twice.  Vocalizing your internal thought only intensifies your fantasies, your mind supplying plenty of mental images of what you would be doing in this hot tub if they were really your boyfriends. 

Oh, you are definitely getting dizzy, but it is not just the jets. 

Hyunjin and Jeongin look at each other, both of them surprised by your forward question.  Jeongin laughs because that is his instinct, that dimple never shy.  Hyunjin has more of a smirk than a smile.  He pokes his tongue into his cheek and lifts his eyebrows when you look at him.  It is a teasing expression.  It makes you dissolve into nervous giggles, sinking lower into the water. 

He grabs you before you can disappear under the surface.  And it is a grab.  Between Hyunjin and Jeongin, you always suspected Hyunjin would be a gentle lover.  He is so gushy and romantic while Jeongin tends be more frank about things.  But it is Jeongin who gently strokes a hand down your arm, who laces his fingers with yours and squeezes. 

Hyunjin reaches right under the water, stopping your descent with a hand on the back of your neck.  Your eyes widen as he yanks you up, not choking but certainly in control.  Your mouth falls open with surprise.  Much to your embarrassment, you moan before he even kisses you, the sound escaping of its own volition as he tilts his head and leans in. 

Oh, his mouth is gentle even if he is not.  His hand is on your jaw, firm, holding your face where he wants it, but his lips are so soft and warm.  He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and sighing against your lips.  You steal a breath as well, your mouth open against his.  That breath catches when Jeongin kisses the nape of your neck, then your shoulder. 

They both have big hands, long fingers, slender but strong.  You melt between them, all heat and need. 

You turn to Jeongin, breathless with desire.  His eyes are dark, lids heavy.  You have never seen such intensity on his usually smiling face. 

You are ready to kiss him when some playful shouts erupt from the audience you forgot about.  “Get it girl!” someone shouts. 

“Oh my god,” you say.  Distracted, you reach behind you, grasping for nothing in particular when you find something, indeed.  Jeongin is rock hard in his swim trunks and your hand brushes the very decent length of him. 

You snap your hand back to yourself, jaw dropping.

“Why are you hard?” you whisper harshly.

“What do you mean, why am I hard?” he whispers back, just as argumentatively.  “We’re all making out in a hot tub.  Of course I’m hard.” 

“Hyunjin’s not hard!” you hiss. 

You look over your shoulder.  Hyunjin is staring up into the air at nothing, looking a little too inconspicuous.

“Hyunjin!” you cry. 

“What?” he returns, also whispering sharply.  “Are you saying you’re not turned on?” 

“I—hmmph—you—no!”

“No?” he asks with a sharp tilt of his head. 

“So,” Jeongin says, drawing your narrowed gaze back to him.  He just smiles at you.  “If we put our hands somewhere here,” his fingers skim your upper thigh and you jump, “we wouldn’t find…?” 

You sputter helplessly but it does no good; you have no retaliation whatsoever.  You look at Hyunjin but he’s no help, just smirking at you.  He wiggles his fingers in a little wave and you feel flushed again. 

“I’m leaving now,” you say and finally sink under the water while they laugh. 

-

You step into your bedroom at the end of a very long day.  The guests have all gone home.  Your parents, for reasons your mother strangely explained, are staying at the neighbour’s house tonight.   You are very aware of the privacy it offers, the air rife with possibility. 

Your boys are in your bed, wearing boxers and sleeveless shirts and bickering about the size of the quilt.  They stop yanking on the blankets when you appear. 

You did not bring much sleepwear.  You figured you would wear the old shirts left behind in this room.  You have outgrown most of them, but that wasn’t a problem with you were sleeping alone.  Now you are wearing old gym shorts that sit very high up your thighs, a little shirt pulled taut across your ample chest, and your friends are staring at you, their previous conversation completely forgotten. 

You cross your arms and stomp to the bed, feigning indifference.  You crawl over a startled Hyunjin to get to the middle, flopping into the little column of space they left for you.

“Good night,” you say. 

Hyunjin turns off the bedside light.  The three of you are laying on top of the covers, on your backs, stiff as boards.  Your arms are still crossed over your chest in a totally unnatural position.  You refuse to look around, counting every little popcorn freckle in the ceiling design. 

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says, his voice so loud in the silence. 

You feel Hyunjin look over, hear the turn of his head on the pillow.  You cast your eyes to either side but do not turn your head.  There is already a skip in your heartbeat and you cannot encourage it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says.  You feel him roll onto his side, facing you.  “You didn’t kiss me.”

You brace yourself then turn your head, looking at him with every intention of telling him that you did it in the heat of the moment.  But he is gazing you, his head propped up on his arm, that god-forsaken bicep flexed again. 

You shake your head and look at the ceiling.

“Yes, I did,” you say.  “What should we do about it?”

“Kiss him,” Hyunjin says.  You look at him.  He is also propped up, leaning back on his elbow. He looks at you with an expression that offers a challenge, asking, Well? What are you waiting for?      

“Fine,” you say, then slowly turn to Jeongin.  “Only because that’s fair.” 

Jeongin does not hesitate.  He is not as firm Hyunjin but he does not need to be.  Long, steady fingers slide across your shoulder and cup the back of your head.  He draws you into him, kissing your cheek before your lips. 

You quickly lose yourself.  Your eyes close and it feels like taking flight, or maybe falling.  Yes, falling helplessly head over heels.  You have been for a long time. 

You cannot help but make a few wanting sounds.  Jeongin’s body is so different to yours, all hard planes and firm muscle against your softer spots.  His hand finds your waist and he pulls you even closer, kissing you long and slow like he is pacing himself, like he plans to kiss you for hours. 

That hand wanders from your waist, sliding lower until he is cupping your ass.  Your breath catches and the kiss breaks.  He is quick to dive back in, kissing you deeper the second time, his tongue touching yours. 

You grab his arm, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. When he leans in again, Hyunjin reaches out and shoves his shoulder.  Jeongin blinks up at him, surprised. 

“That was two kisses,” Hyunjin says.  “My turn.” 

Hyunjin grabs your shoulder and pulls you onto your back.  You land with a soft thump, still intoxicated from kissing Jeongin. 

You blink up at Hyunjin, your chest heaving with breath as his eyes roam down your body.  His fingers follow the same trail, knuckles at your chin then the curve of your chest.  You arch your back instinctively.  Everything seems to throb when his fingers brush the front of your shorts.  It is a momentary touch, then he is cupping your cheek and turning your face and kissing you. 

Just last night, you were in this bed alone, fantasizing this very thing.  You ended the phone call but you were wide awake, so you put on some music and grabbed your vibrator and lost yourself to the impossible fantasy now entering reality. 

In your fantasies, one or both of them was on top of you.  But Hyunjin surprises you with the opposite, taking hold of your hips and tugging.  You follow his direction clumsily until you are straddling his lap.  He is hard between your legs, holding you there against him while he cups the back of your head and kisses you. 

You can’t believe you thought Hyunjin was a romantic little angel.  He is an absolute demon, rolling his hips under you with the same unhurried pace Jeongin used.  You are so wet and turned-on, so delirious with need, for a second it feels like there is nothing between you, just the hard shape of him against your softness.  But no, there are thin layers of fabric between you, stretched so tight it is like they are not there. 

Jeongin curves his hand over the shape of your ass.  Your shorts are riding up from your position.  He could get an eye-ful at the right angle. 

“You’re so…” he says, but his breath catches like there is no word to do you justice.  It makes you look at him, your eyes locking in intensity. 

It ends when Hyunjin rolls, laying you onto your back again.  Then he sits back, leaving you there in a breathless pant. 

“What do you think about?” he asks.

You make a noise back at him.  It is supposed to be a question but it comes out garbled.  You shake your head, then manage to ask, “Huh?  Think about?”

He sits up and reaches into your bedside drawer.  You come to coherency when he takes out your vibrator. 

“Hyunjin!”  You cannot help but scold him.  “I told you to stay out of there!” 

“You know I like to investigate,” he argues.  “I can’t help it.” 

“Oh my god,” you say, slapping your forehead.  “I swear to god, it’s like being friends with a crow.”

Jeongin sits up too, laughing so much he has to cover his face.  He shakes his head as he comes up for a breath, pushing his hair out of his face. 

“Stop laughing,” you say, even while a few giggles escape. 

Jeongin just grins at you, then he reaches out and touches traces his thumb across your smile. 

“Are you going to answer?” Hyunjin asks. 

You look at him and snatch the vibrator back, clutching it possessively to your chest. 

“That’s none of your business,” you say.

“It could be,” he says, expression getting darker by the second, a playful smile turning to a dirty smirk.  He runs his teeth across his bottom lip then bats his eyelashes.  “If you think about us,” he finishes. 

“I—no—you—”

“It’s fine,” he says.  “It’s normal.  I think about you.” 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp.  You go to whack him with the vibrator then remember what it is.  You hold it against your chest again, embarrassed.  Hot in the face and everywhere else, you sputter more indignantly than you feel, “There’s nothing to think about with me.”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you are serious, his eyes dropping down your body then back up.  He laughs, covering a hand over his mouth. 

“Last night I thought plenty,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I wondered if you could come so hard it would make you cry.  I bet you’d look pretty.” 

You swallow hard.  Your hands are getting clammy, clutching the toy.  You cannot even fake any indignance, so turned on it is making your head spin. 

“That’s rude,” you say in a rasping voice, “I was crying and you were—”

“I waited to touch myself, thank you,” he teases. 

“Jeongin wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking back at him.  He is staring up at the ceiling, blinking too quickly and too innocently.  “Jeongin!” you exclaim. 

Hyunjin laughs some more, a gleeful little cackle behind his hand.  You huff dramatically, trying and failing to frown at them. 

“My friends are perverts,” you say. 

Hyunjin is reclining in an insouciant slouch.  Jeongin is sitting upright behind you.  You look between them as they look at each other, seemingly conversing through nothing but a series of blinks.  Jeongin smiles first, winking at you when you meet his eye.  He is holding your gaze when Hyunjin moves, smooth and quick.  They crowd you, one on either side, each with a hand on your thigh. 

You make a noise, a surprised little whimper as you spill onto your back.  You clutch the toy for dear life as Jeongin strokes your inner thigh and Hyunjin’s long fingers trace your waistband.  You gasp when Hyunjin slides right in, under your shorts but over your underwear.  You are so turned on that there is no hiding it, the fabric wet under his searching fingers.

“Takes one to know one,” he says with a smile.  “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.” 

“I don’t think we’re just friends,” Jeongin says while sliding the toy out of your hands.  He turns it on and your clit pulses under Hyunjin’s fingers, trained to react to the noise. 

Hyunjin laughs, his breath on your neck.  He moves his hand while Jeongin presses the toy between your legs, over your shorts and panties but nonetheless immediately effective.  You squirm a little.  The onslaught of sensation has your thighs twitching to close. 

The boys shuffle quickly.  You find yourself sitting between Jeongin’s legs, your back against his chest.  Hyunjin kneels in front of you, holding your legs open so you cannot escape the toy’s blissful torture.  You can feel an orgasm winding up ridiculously fast.  You have not had a proper relationship but you have fooled around, but it was never like this.  Even by yourself with a toy, an orgasm would take time.  You have a breath to realize you are going to come, hard, legs spread for your boys.

It hits you quickly but deeply, rolling vibrations of pleasure that have you rearing up.  You start to cry out and Jeongin covers your mouth even though you are alone, catching the sound in his palm.   He holds the toy with his other hand, keeping it in place while Hyunjin holds your legs so you feel every tingling second of aftershocks. 

When you whine into his palm, Jeongin lets you go and turns off the toy. 

The room feels very quiet when the toy stops.  You come to reality, remembering you are in your parents’ house in your old bedroom.  Your parents might not be home but it still seems wrong to get down and dirty with your old teddy bear staring at you.

Hyunjin follows your line of sight.  He grabs the bear and turns it around.

Okay. It’s fine now. 

You twist around and grab Jeongin, kissing him roughly.  He holds you as desperately, kissing back with the same fervour.  Hyunjin gets his hands on your shorts and tugs them down.  They are only off one leg, dangling around your knee, when he dives in and starts kissing your pussy through your underwear. 

You are still sensitive from your orgasm, moaning into Jeongin’s mouth while Hyunjin torments you with his.  When he moves the material out of the way, your legs start shaking again.  Jeongin reaches down to touch you too, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s lips.  Hyunjin sucks the taste of you off his fingertips then dives back in. 

You are caught by surprise when you come again.  Jeongin catches your cry, covering your mouth again as you shake in his arms.  A tear spills loose just from the sheer sensation of such rapid orgasms.  Your body feels like a live wire, all lightning and electric energy. 

Hyunjin kneels upright, looking at the tear running down your face.  You whimper into Jeongin’s hand when Hyunjin licks it off your cheek. 

“Knew you’d be pretty like that, baby,” he says. 

You pry Jeongin’s hand off your mouth.  It goes easily.  In the end, they follow your lead.  You know your boys.  They would do anything for you.  They would start.  They would stop.  

You do not want them to stop. 

“Fuck me,” you say, so quietly it does not even penetrate the silence.   Even so, Hyunjin slides his hand between your legs and slides two fingers right inside you, so easily because you are so wet.  Jeongin squeezes your breasts in his hands, over your shirt then tugging the fabric up and over to get his hands on your bare skin. 

“What was that?” Hyunjin asks.  He brings those wet fingers to his lips and licks your wetness off them. 

“F-fuck me,” you say, still a whisper but clearer.  “Please.” 

“Well,” Jeongin says, kissing your temple.  He smiles at Hyunjin.  “Since you asked so nicely.” 

You all tumble over, laying on your sides.  Jeongin is nestled behind you, Hyunjin in front of you.  Jeongin lifts your shirt over your head while Hyunjin finally removes everything below your waist.  You slip your hand between your thighs while they whip off their shirts and boxers.

Then it feels like their hands are everywhere.  Yours too, reaching forward for Hyunjin, reaching back for Jeongin.  You hold his hip while he rocks against you, his cock gliding along your backside. 

“I’ll go first,” Hyunjin says, manhandling you onto your back then getting up between your legs. 

“You kissed her first,” Jeongin argues, shoving him.  Hyunjin shoves him back. 

“You’re bigger,” Hyunjin says, nodding to his dick.  “I’ll get her ready.” 

You did not actually get a good look at Hyunjin’s dick before he put it inside you.  If Jeongin is bigger, you are almost worried, because Hyunjin is bigger than anything you have had down there.  You make a keening, high-pitched noise, mouth open as he presses inside you. 

Jeongin lays beside you, reaching down to rub that still-tingling bundle of nerves.  It helps, your eyes closing and head falling back.  Jeongin kisses the exposed line of your throat while Hyunjin starts moving inside you. 

“Ohh—” you say, your hands moving all over his chest.  You clutch one shoulder and reach for Jeongin with your other hand.  He guides it to his dick, helping you find a rhythm, stroking his length while Hyunjin fucks you.

It goes on for a time, then Jeongin curses, squeezing your hand around him.  He nods to Hyunjin.

“Move,” he says.  “My turn.” 

Hyunjin, panting, pushes some hair off his sweaty forehead.  He moves backwards down the bed, stepping right off.  You yelp with surprise when he grabs your legs and yanks you down the bed.  He grabs your hips and flips you over, then gestures to Jeongin. 

“Your turn,” he confirms.  They switch places, Jeongin kneeling behind you while Hyunjin kneels in front of you.  You get up on your elbows, lifting your hips while Jeongin thrusts in.  He wastes no time, evidently already on the brink from your ministrations.  It means your gentle lover is suddenly pounding into you, your fingers forming fists in the bedsheets, yanking the covers everywhere as you pant and moan. 

“Sooo pretty,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face in both hands.  You know what he wants without asking, opening your mouth eagerly.  You doubt it is the best head ever, especially considering half your attention is on Jeongin, your body moving where he wills it.  But you manage, savouring the moment and already imagining every variation of position for the future. 

You look up at Hyunjin, kissing the tip of his dick then saying in a rough voice, “I want both of you one day.”

“Fuck,” Jeongin says and immediately comes, grinding deep inside you.  Hyunjin grabs you by the neck and puts you back on his dick, murmuring a string of expletives just as colourful until he comes. 

You think it is over when Jeongin pulls out.  Cum is dribbling out of your mouth when Hyunjin sits back.  He wipes his thumb over your lips, pushing them closed. 

“You can swallow,” he says.  His touch is a suggestion, not forceful, so you could ignore it.  But you gaze up at him and swallow.

And while you are doing that, Jeongin grabs the toy and puts it back between your legs.  You almost scream, bucking when it comes to life on your dripping pussy.  Hyunjin cups your face in his hands again, stroking your cheeks while you ride the pulsing vibrations.   Another couple tears spill and he wipes them away with his thumbs, cooing sweet nothings at you the entire time. 

They wring three more orgasms out of you before you basically collapse, exerted and sweating and panting. 

“God,” you rasp, laying on your side, still breathing hard.  “I’m gonna need to get in shape for this.  Two boyfriends is no joke.” 

The three of you laugh, then you get to enjoy the spoiled princess treatment that is having one boy to cuddle while the other fetches water and a towel.  When you finally get to sleep, it is nestled safely between your boys, murmuring sweet words at each other in sleepy tones until you fall asleep. 

-

Your parents return at lunch the next day.  While Jeongin helps your father grill and Hyunjin sets the table, you help your mother prepare a side dish.  She is practically beaming at you. 

“Do I want to know why you slept at the neighbour’s last night?” you ask. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” your mother says.  She kisses your forehead.  “I heard you on the phone the other night.  I know you lied about having a boyfriend.”

“What?!”  You look at her with alarm and surprise.  “But – but you didn’t say anything!  You acted like Jeongin was my boyfriend the second he arrived!”

“Of course!” your mother says.  “Look my dear, anyone can find a boyfriend.  Walk onto the street and throw a rock, there’s one with his head out the car window like a dog.  Easy.  Not everyone can find a man who shows up to a party and pretends to be her lover, expecting nothing in return, and doing it just because he loves her.  And you found two.” 

Your mother wraps you in her arms.  You are still surprised but you hug her back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel so pressured,” she says.  “I just worried about you all alone in the city, but now I see you’re not alone.  But, you know, I am a mother, and I saw how those boys looked at you, so I figured… well…”

“Mom!” you cry, a little mortified she intentionally set you up. 

“Did it work?” she asks with an eyebrow wiggle. 

You are laughing helplessly, shaking your head, which only makes her laugh. 

“I knew it,” she says.  “Sometimes fate just needs a hand.  Maybe two.” 

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” you say, walking away. 

“You are glowing this morning.  Maybe I should get another man too.”

“Mom, please!”  

[onebadassunicorn]

The Way We Were

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pining, angst, despair, death, suicide

word count: 4.1K

Taglist: @motheroffae @demon-master-zero @tele86 @batboyslutt @salvatoresister1 @callsign-midnight @angiieguevara @kk191327 @rcarbo1 @jennigsonl

If you would like to be added to the taglist, please leave me a comment!

Image owned by Cece’s Bookart Chronicles.

To see more work by this artist, join Patreon and become a member of this artist's collections!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

********

Chapter 6

Azriel POV

The pain hit Azriel like a physical blow, sharp and searing, as if someone had driven a blade into his chest and twisted it. One moment, he was standing in Rhysand’s office, listening to your last message through the bond, and the next, it was gone—you were gone.

The bond snapped violently, leaving a hollow, aching void where it had once been. His knees buckled, and his screams echoed through the halls of the House of Wind, raw and unrelenting, each one a visceral cry of anguish that seemed to shake the very walls.

He was on his knees in Rhysand’s office, his wings limp and his hands clawing at the bond that no longer existed. His shadows flailed around him, wild and uncontrolled, as though they, too, were mourning the loss of something they could never retrieve.

“NO!” he wailed again, his voice breaking as he slammed his fist into the floor. Tears streamed down his face, and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. “No, no, no! She can’t be gone!”

Rhys was beside him, his hands gripping Azriel’s shoulders tightly in an attempt to ground him. “Azriel,” he said, his voice firm but thick with his own grief. “You have to breathe. You—”

“I CAN’T!” Azriel roared, shoving Rhys’s hands away as his entire body trembled with the force of his despair. “She’s gone, Rhys! She’s gone!”

The door to the office burst open, and Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta rushed in, their faces pale and etched with alarm. The sound of Azriel’s cries had drawn them from every corner of the House, but nothing could have prepared them for the sight before them.

Azriel was crumpled on the floor, his usually composed and stoic demeanor completely shattered. His wings dragged limply behind him, his shadows a chaotic storm around his trembling frame. He clutched at his chest as though trying to hold himself together, but it was clear he was falling apart.

“Azriel?” Feyre’s voice was soft but trembling as she stepped closer, her violet eyes wide with concern.

Rhys glanced at her, his expression grim and heavy. “She’s gone,” he said quietly, the words seeming to weigh down the entire room.

“What do you mean?” Cassian demanded, his hazel eyes darting between Rhys and Azriel. “What the hell is going on?”

Rhys took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he prepared to deliver the news. “Y/n was on a mission,” he began, his voice low but steady. “A dangerous one. Undercover in the Hewn City. She volunteered because...” He hesitated, his gaze flicking to Azriel, who let out another broken sob. “Because she thought she had the least to lose.”

Feyre gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. “Why didn’t we know? Why didn’t she—”

“She asked me not to tell anyone,” Rhys said, his tone filled with regret. “She wanted it to be her mission, and she didn’t want anyone else involved. I respected her wishes.”

Nesta’s usually stoic face crumpled as she took a step back, her hand gripping the edge of the desk for support. “She was my friend,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “She didn’t even say goodbye.”

Cassian staggered, his hand gripping the back of a chair as he tried to process the words. “Like a sister,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “She was like a sister to me. And now—” He broke off, shaking his head as tears streamed down his face.

Feyre knelt beside Azriel, her own tears falling freely as she reached out to him. “Azriel, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

But he didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to hear her. His entire world had narrowed to the overwhelming, suffocating pain that consumed him. “She was my mate,” he choked out, his voice barely audible. “And I didn’t tell her. I didn’t... I let her think she didn’t matter.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and crushing.

Nesta turned away, covering her face with her hands as silent sobs wracked her body. Cassian moved to her side, his expression torn between his own grief and the need to comfort her.

Rhys stayed close to Azriel, his hand resting on his friend’s shoulder even as Azriel continued to wail and sob, the sound raw and unending.

“She didn’t know,” Azriel whispered brokenly, his head falling into his hands. “She didn’t know how much I loved her. How much I needed her. She thought... she thought she wasn’t enough.”

Feyre’s tears fell harder, and even Rhys’s composure began to crack as he looked down at the male who had always been their steady, unshakable spymaster.

But Azriel was inconsolable.

Each passing moment only seemed to deepen his despair, the bond’s absence a constant, agonizing reminder of what he had lost. He had waited too long, taken too much for granted, and now he was left with nothing but regret and the hollow shell of what might have been.

Hours passed, but Azriel didn’t move from the floor of Rhys’s office. His sobs gradually quieted into a haunting silence, but the devastation in his eyes remained.

He was a shadow of himself—broken, lost, and hollow.

The Inner Circle tried to help, tried to pull him from the depths of his grief, but Azriel remained unreachable, his heart and soul shattered beyond repair.

The days that followed were a blur. Azriel withdrew completely, retreating to his room and refusing to see anyone. His once-pristine appearance became disheveled, his usually sharp amber eyes dull and lifeless.

He stopped training, stopped flying, stopped eating unless someone forced him to. His shadows, once lively and alert, now moved sluggishly around him, as if they, too, were mourning.

A few days later, Rhys approached Azriel in his room, his usual commanding presence softened by grief. In his hand, he held a sealed letter.

“She left this,” Rhys said quietly, holding it out to Azriel before turning and letting Azriel read the letter in private.

Azriel hesitated, his hands trembling as he took the letter. The parchment was soft under his fingertips, your handwriting familiar even before he broke the seal.

He unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words as tears blurred his vision.           

_________________________________________________________

Azriel,

If you’re reading this, then it means I didn’t make it back.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry for the pain of the physical break in the mating bond will cause you, even if you might believe I wasn’t worth that grief. I don’t know how to start this letter, because there’s so much I want to say, and I never had the courage to say it when I was alive.

The bond snapped for me years ago. I felt it, clear as day, like a thread tying me to you in a way I couldn’t explain, a way I never expected. I wanted to tell you so many times, Azriel. But how could I, when I saw how happy you seemed with her? How could I stand in the way of something that brought you even a flicker of light in the darkness I know you carry?

I convinced myself that it didn’t matter. That my feelings didn’t matter. You were smiling, laughing more than I’d ever seen you, and I thought I could be content just watching you find that happiness—even if it wasn’t with me.

But then everything started to change.

Slowly, so slowly, I began to lose you.

Do you remember how we used to go down to the Sidra and people-watch for hours? You’d tell the most ridiculous stories about strangers’ lives, and I’d try to one-up you with something even more absurd. It always made me laugh, even on the hardest days. And flying—Azriel, those moments meant everything to me. Feeling the wind rushing past us, knowing you were the one carrying me. I felt safe with you in a way I never felt with anyone else.

But you started doing those things with her. I’d catch glimpses of you and Elain by the Sidra, her laughter ringing out like it belonged in another world. I saw the way you looked at her when you took her flying, the way your shadows wrapped around her protectively. I tried to convince myself it didn’t hurt, but it did. Every time I saw you with her, it felt like another piece of me was slipping away.

And yet, I couldn’t be angry at you. You were just being you—kind, thoughtful, devoted. I couldn’t hate you for loving someone else, even as it tore me apart.

I missed you, Azriel.

I missed us.

I missed the way you used to look at me, the way you used to confide in me. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being the person you turned to, and that was the hardest thing to accept. You were my best friend, my anchor, my everything, and I didn’t know how to tell you that without making it all worse.

I thought if I could just bury my feelings deep enough, if I could put on a brave face, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

But it did.

It hurt more than I can put into words.

And then, that night in Rhys’s office... when I saw you at the door, and I felt the bond snap for you... Azriel, I wanted to believe it would change something. That maybe, just maybe, it meant I mattered to you the way you’ve always mattered to me.

But you didn’t say anything.

You just walked away, and I told myself it was because I wasn’t enough.

I’m sorry if that sounds cruel. I don’t mean it to. But it’s the truth I’ve lived with for so long—that I was never enough for you. Not as your friend, not as your mate, not as anything.

I hope you find someone who makes you truly happy, Azriel. Someone who gives you all the love you deserve, who stands by your side in a way I never could. I hope you fly with them, laugh with them, and find the peace you’ve always been searching for.

And maybe, in another life, things will be different.

Maybe then, I’ll have the courage to tell you all of this in person.

Maybe then, you’ll see me the way I’ve always seen you.

But for now, this is goodbye.

Please don’t blame yourself for what happened.

I made my choices because I wanted to protect the people I love—you most of all.

Be happy, Azriel.

For me.

With all my love,

Y/n

______________________________________________

Azriel sat on the edge of his bed, the letter trembling in his hands as he read it again.

And again.

The words blurred as tears filled his amber eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from tracing every line, every word, as if reading it enough times might bring you back.

But you were gone.

The bond—his bond—was gone.

That thread, that fragile, miraculous connection he hadn’t even realized he wanted so desperately until it was too late, had been severed.

And with it, the one person who had truly seen him, understood him, was lost forever.

He felt it like a gaping wound in his chest, an emptiness that nothing could fill. He had never truly believed in the idea of a mate completing someone until that moment, when your absence hollowed him out entirely. It wasn’t just grief—it was despair, sharp and suffocating, pulling him under like a riptide.

At one point, Azriel had thought it made sense—the idea of three sisters for three brothers. Feyre and Rhys were perfect for each other, bound by a love so fierce it was almost enviable. Nesta and Cassian had a bond that burned just as brightly, full of fire and passion. It had seemed logical, hadn’t it? That the third Archeron sister, quiet and gentle Elain, would fall to him, the shadowed and silent brother.

He’d told himself it was what he wanted, that the Mother had crafted a perfect symmetry in their lives. He had tried to convince himself that the softness of Elain would soothe the darkness inside him, that her kindness would balance the weight of his shadows. But now, sitting in the suffocating quiet of his room, he saw how stupid, how utterly foolish, that idea had been.

The letter crumpled slightly in his fists, and he clutched it tighter, his wings curling around him as if he could shield himself from the pain. His shadows writhed around him, erratic and desperate, searching for something they couldn’t find.

Searching for you.

He hadn’t realized how much he relied on you until now, when you were gone and the memories came crashing down, one after another, like daggers.

He thought of the mornings by the Sidra, sitting with you in the sunlight as you both sipped tea and watched the city come to life. Your laugh had been brighter than any star, your smile the only thing that could pull him out of his darkest thoughts. You’d nudge him with your elbow, challenging him to come up with the most ridiculous backstory for the people passing by. And he always did, just to hear that laugh again.

He thought of the times he’d taken you flying, the way you’d grip his shoulders tightly at first but then relax as you trusted him to keep you safe. You’d shout at him to go higher, faster, your joy infectious, and he had never felt more at peace than when you were with him.

He thought of your training sessions, your sharp wit and competitive spirit pushing him in ways no one else could. You’d smirk when you managed to best him, and he’d laugh, genuinely laugh, because with you, he could let his guard down.

And then, slowly, those memories began to twist.

He hadn’t even realized when he started to pull away from you. It had been so gradual, so unintentional, that he hadn’t seen it until it was too late.

The mornings by the Sidra became mornings with Elain. He thought of all the times he had taken Elain to the Sidra, convincing himself it was right, that it was fate. And yet, those moments had felt hollow, empty. They had lacked the spark, the warmth, that came so effortlessly with you. He hadn’t noticed, at the time, how he’d stopped inviting you to join him.

The flights he once cherished with you became flights with Elain. He thought of the flights he had shared with her, how her timid grip on his shoulders had never felt like home the way yours had. How he had been so blind, so lost in a fantasy of what he thought his life should look like, that he hadn’t realized what he was sacrificing. It hadn’t felt the same, but he’d told himself it didn’t matter.

Even the training sessions shifted. He had tried to convince Elain to train with him, his gentle coaxing a stark contrast to the fiery banter he had shared with you. He thought he was helping her, thought he was doing something good, but now he could see how he had pushed you aside without even realizing it.

And the whole time, you had been there, watching him, hurting silently while he drifted further away.

Yet - it had always been you.

His perfect match.

His mate.

The thought hit him like a physical blow, and he doubled over, clutching the letter tighter to his chest as his shadows writhed in agitation around him. He saw it now with agonizing clarity—the way you had always been there, the way you had made him laugh when he didn’t think he could, the way your presence had brought him a comfort he had never been able to put into words.

He had spent so much time chasing a dream that wasn’t real, blind to the fact that the thing he had always hoped for—the thing he had needed—had been right in front of him all along.

The one thing he had dreamed of since the darkest days of his youth, since those endless nights of pain and loneliness, was a mate to call his own. Someone to choose him, to see him, to love him despite the scars on his hands and soul. And when the Mother finally gave him that gift, she ripped it away before he could do anything about it.

His hands shook as he read your letter again, your words cutting into him like a blade.

“The bond snapped for me years ago.”

Years.

You had known for years, and he hadn’t seen it.

He hadn’t seen you.

He had been so caught up in the idea of Elain, so consumed by his own insecurities and fears, that he had let you slip away without even realizing it.

Azriel’s chest ached as he remembered the last time he saw you in Rhys’s office, the way your eyes had met his when the bond snapped for him. He had been so shocked, so panicked, that he had done nothing. He had been too much of a coward to act. Too afraid of what it would mean, too unsure of how to fix what he had already broken.

Now, he would never get the chance.

The Mother had taken you from him before he could tell you how much you meant to him. Before he could say that he loved you—not as a friend, not as a partner in battle, but as the one person who had ever truly mattered to him.

Azriel let out a broken sob, his wings drooping as his shadows curled tightly around him like they were trying to hold him together.

But they couldn’t.

Nothing could.

Azriel leaned back against the wall, clutching the letter to his chest as tears streamed silently down his face. The memory of your laughter, your smile, your voice played over and over in his mind like a cruel echo. He could almost hear you teasing him, could almost feel the warmth of your presence beside him.

And now you were gone.

The thought was unbearable, and a choked sob escaped his throat as he doubled over, clutching the letter to his chest. His shadows surged around him, frantic and chaotic, as if they, too, were mourning.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling and broken. “I’m so sorry.”

But his apology would never reach you.

You would never hear the words he had been too afraid to say.

You would never know that you had been his everything, even when he was too blind to see it.

Azriel sat there for hours, the letter still clutched in his hands, as memories of you played over and over in his mind. He thought of your laughter, your smile, the way you had always been there for him, even when he didn’t deserve it. And he thought of your words, the way you had poured your heart into that letter, even as you prepared to face the possibility of never coming back.

“Maybe in the next life, things will be different.”

The words haunted him, wrapping around his heart like a vice.

Azriel didn’t know how to live without you.

The bond was gone, and with it, the piece of himself he had only just begun to understand.

He felt incomplete, untethered, and utterly alone.

And in the darkest moments of the night, when the world was silent and his shadows were still, Azriel whispered your name into the void, hoping—praying—that somehow, somewhere, you could hear him.

But you didn’t come.

And the emptiness inside him grew.

Azriel stood on the balcony one night, the cold wind whipping through his hair and biting at his skin. The city below was peaceful, the lights of Velaris glittering like stars. It should have comforted him, but it didn’t.

Nothing did.

He reached out to the bond, or what remained of it—the frayed, severed edges that had once tied him to you.

There was nothing there now, no warmth, no spark.

Just silence.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the night, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. For everything. For not choosing you when I had the chance. For not being there when you needed me. For failing you.”

His wings trembled as he stared into the vast expanse of darkness beyond the city. He thought of you—your smile, your laughter, the way you had always looked at him like he was more than the broken boy he saw in himself. You had given him everything, and he had given you nothing but pain.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

He couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t exist, where every breath felt like a reminder of the love he had lost.

Azriel stepped to the edge of the balcony, as the wind howled around him. He closed his eyes, his mind filled with memories of you—your voice, your touch, your light.

The cold night air rushed past Azriel as he stepped off the edge of the balcony, the wind tearing at his hair and wings as he fell. He didn’t open them. He didn’t even try.

For centuries, his wings had been his salvation, carrying him above the pain and shadows that weighed on his soul. But now, they remained tightly folded, useless against the crushing despair that consumed him.

The city below blurred into darkness, the glittering lights of Velaris fading as his tears streamed down his face, freezing against his skin. He didn’t feel the cold. He didn’t feel anything but the emptiness where you used to be.

The bond was gone.

You were gone.

And with you had gone the last piece of himself that mattered.

His shadows swirled around him, frantic and restless, as if trying to catch him, to slow his descent. But even they seemed to falter, as if they, too, understood that nothing could save him now.

The world around him seemed to fade, and all he could think of was you. Your laugh, the way it used to fill the silence and make him believe, for a fleeting moment, that he wasn’t so broken. The way you’d look at him during your walks by the Sidra, your eyes bright with life and mischief. The way you had always been there for him, always seen him, even when he had been too blind to see you in return.

He clutched the memory of you like a lifeline, his mind replaying the words of your letter over and over again.

“Maybe in the next life, things will be different.”

The wind screamed in his ears, but it couldn’t drown out your voice, couldn’t erase the ache of your absence.

“In the next life,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he let his body fall faster, surrendering to the pull of the darkness below. “I’ll find you. And I’ll choose you. Every time.”

The stars above seemed to blur into streaks of light, and his tears mixed with the wind as he let the weight of his grief consume him. He didn’t try to stop it, didn’t try to fight.

Because a world without you wasn’t a world he wanted to live in.

As the ground rushed up to meet him, Azriel’s final thought was of you—your smile, your warmth, your love.

The love he had ignored, the love he had only just begun to understand when it was ripped away.

As the darkness closed in, and with it came the faintest flicker of hope.

The hope that somewhere, in the next life, he would find you again.

And this time, he would choose you.

Every time.

*********************

Y'all - It hurt me to write this but I’ve always wrote happy endings and wanted to try my hand at writing some tragedy and expand my writing beyond just the “happily ever after.”

I hope you all enjoyed it and I will definitely have more Azriel, Cassian and some Lucien coming within the next day or so. I promise they will be happier endings with some smut…although I may try another tragedy as well.  :)

Thanks for reading my fics and leaving your comments and re-blogs! 

I truly appreciate all you!

[barleyo]

678-999-8212.

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: part two for my last fic!! ermmmm once again ily if you know the title's reference :3 this is a short addition too but idk i don't think part one required a super long part two! please read the tags, leon is mean in this one :c

Part One: here

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (21-50s), degradation, choking, hate-sex, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, non-con, striking/smacking of the face, alcohol mention

Wordcount: 1k

Leon had never driven this fast before. To hell with every red light in his way, he needed to get home. Foot sat firmly on the gas pedal, inching further and faster the more he thought about the series of events that led him here. 

His daughter was an absolute slut. How many men had you 'entertained' like that before? How many filthy calls had you made to men who were possibly even older than himself? More than that— how had he fallen into your trap? 

He made a silent promise to himself to put the bottle down, seeing as it left him in that situation. A promise that was an empty one, but it offered him solace in the moment as he pulled into his driveway. 

Leon's feet struggled against the pavement. He was still unbearably drunk and dizzy, now with added anger and unfounded horniness. He felt gross, disgusted by the erection popping in his slacks, but he couldn't help it. He was fathering a damn siren, and god did you know what you were doing. Your sickening voice, overly sweet moans, and your slick and noisy cunt that cried for him over the phone. It was all too much.

"You fucking slut!"

Leon had never been a rough dad. He wasn't a yeller, not one for heavy discipline. After his unfortunate discovery about you, though? He was quick to slam the front door shut and run up the stairs, feet clashing against each step with a violent speed. 

Whatever you had been watching on your television was quickly shut off when you heard his tone. You scampered under your blankets and feigned sleep. You had zero clue what he was on about, but you knew it would turn ugly just by the sheer anger in his voice. He couldn't yell at a sleeping beauty like you, could he? 

Yes, obviously he could and would. Stubborn old man.

"I know you aren't asleep," Leon spat, ripping the covers off of you. You stayed still, breath pausing in your chest. "Don't act innocent, brat."

Fine, so there was no escaping this. Damn it, what was this all about?

You begrudgingly relented and opened your eyes. Arms crossed defensively over your chest, an equal mix of fear and discomfort on your face as you scanned over your dad. 

You took in everything about him. His eyebrows were drawn together. His jaw was clenched tight enough that you thought it could pop at any minute. Fists balled up at his sides. Eyes dark. Dick hard— oh. Oh?

"You wanna tell me what you were doing earlier? Any specific calls y'made?" 

"Say it."

You had never heard your father speak so roughly, and anything close to the tone he used was never directed towards you. You were his sweet girl, daddy's baby forever. Now, though, each slam of his hips into yours made you feel like a cheap whore. 

"It's not true," you said. "I'm not a slut! I'm not, I promise."

You felt his large hand's grip over your neck tighten. Tears were threatening to spill, to run down your red, stinging cheek where the mark of his hand was freshly placed. You held it in. Daddy told you not to cry, that you had no right to. 

"Was just a mistake. I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, real convincing." Leon sneered down at you. It stung more than the unrelenting thrusts, more than the way his palm met your cheek. He never looked at you like that, like you were nothing. You wanted it to stop. "I didn't raise you to be a whore. You think you're fuckin' grown, huh? Showing off for whoever rings you up like some call-center bitch?"

You wanted to kick and cry, but the words stopped in your chest. Shameful wails sprouted from you. It was all true, every word he said.

"I just wanted attention," you were finally able to make out, despite the ever firmness of his hand around your throat. "I'm sorry, I'll never do it again. Promise."

Deep down, Leon felt awful for treating you like this. He tried to reason with himself. You needed to learn. How could you learn from a 'mistake,' as you called it, without a proper punishment? He was doing the right thing. He was sure of it. He couldn't have a whore-daughter, at least not such a shameless one. 

"Yeah? How's it feel now? You're getting all the attention you want now. Not enough for you, greedy bitch?"

Thankfully for you, he released you from the chokehold he had you in. He internally winced at the already forming bruise he left. His hands found your lower stomach and he pushed down. Hard. 

"There you go. Feel every bit of my cock."

God, he was so mean. His head knocked into your cervix roughly, no regard for your pleasure. It hurt, but the friction of his girthy cock dragging against your abused walls helped a little. 

Small flutters of pleasure peaked through the rough treatment, making it semi-worth it. Maybe if you came, if you focused real hard on getting over the edge, then maybe you could forget his awful words.

He wasn't nearly that nice, though. He kept grumbling under his breath, spitting out vile insults about you. Even as his voice cracked, he couldn't help but let his hips stutter forwards into you, whispering the harshest things. 

With a final, especially rough thrust, he came. He didn't bother to pull out, he didn't even try. Rather, he burrowed further into your sore walls and marked you with his seed, claiming you like the territory you were. 

As you tried to pull away, feeling utterly used and unsatisfied, you felt his strong arms yank you back. 

"Where do you think you're going?" 

His face softened a little. Good, at least he wasn't scowling at you any more. 

"We aren't done...?"

"Not even close." He pushed your legs back, resting them over his shoulders. "Whores don't get breaks. We aren't done until I'm good and fucking satisfied."

He leaned down, dipping his head so he could spit. He watched the dribble of saliva coat your hole. 

"If you aren't gonna be my good girl anymore, the least you could do is put out."

[bunny-1111]

Beg for it, Part 3 - Theo Nott Smut

Description: Returning to Hogwarts after ignoring Theodore all summer long, was so much worse than you imagine; Theodore was starving you of what you so desperately needed.

part 1 - part 2

Word Count: 1.4k

SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - unread and unedited

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

...

Theodore closes the shower screen door with such hast and strength you thought the glass might smash.

The steam filled the small space, and the heat of the running water ran fast down your body. You didn't know if the temperature or his fierce kisses were making you lightheaded. As he pressed you against the cool tile, you felt instantly relieved.

There was no time to be slow or soft; he came at you wickedly rough, his mouth exploring as much of your bare skin as he could swallow.

You’d half-expected him to let go, all the teasing, all the games; you hadn't really expected them to stop.

His sloppy mouth travelled from your lips to the bottom of your ear as you felt the pinch of his teeth collect your skin. You couldn't collect your breath, panting against his, a trembling, weak mess.

"Please, teddy, please", you practically cry, he was unravelling you by the millisecond, you wanted him so bad, it was undoing you completely, exposed, unraveled.

"Please what?" he spat out, his voice like venom

You were going to reply, really, the words were about to spill, but then his hand suddenly took a handful of your ass, squeezing so hard, you blanked.

He pushes your body even harder against his own, the noise of running water flowing, everything was so wet, losing balance, your feet almost slip below you, Theo holding your whole body up with a death grip.

He cups your face with his hand, you can't help but break away from the kiss. In need of something more, you grip his wrist as you begin to take his fingers in your mouth. You stare right at him as you do so, your wide eyes flutter up, he can't help but lean his head back and groan, he was mad at you yes, but fuck you're sexy.

You watch the droplets of water drip down his face to his chest. He looked so good. His fingers taste so good in your mouth as he slams them deeper, almost reaching your throat's bottom.

Your hand lurks down your own thigh, desperate for relief, Theo's eyes flicker down and follow your fingers, halting everything, gripping your wrist.

"don't you fucking dare" he spits

"Then do it for me! I can't keep going. I need you inside me, now!" you choke out

With the speed of a cracked whip, Theodore picks you up again, not bothering to turn the water off, carrying you to your bed. The feeling of his hardness hitting you with each step almost made you faint.

Sitting you at the edge of the bed, he lines himself up with a long exhale. "You're so fucking wet" he praises as he injects his tip

"I've been drenched for you for weeks Theo" you admit in a rush

"Gotta do something about that, hm" he growls enter you without warning, a smile creeps up your lips, ugh, finally.

Theo's eyes stay on yours until you can't look up anymore.

Flipping you around, he starts from behind, your favourite.

Your moans are music to his ears, he can hardly hold back his own listening to you "I love those pretty noises, darling" he praises, gathering your hair in his hand.

"are you mine?” he questions, his voice a low growl, each word sending a thrill through you. “huh!” he screams out, yanking your hair back

“Yes, Theo, I’m yours—” The words tumble out, and he cuts you off by covering your mouth with his hand, swallowing the rest of your sentence as though he can’t stand to hear anything but your submission

"Yeah well you didn't do much to show for it during break, did you" he pants out

A wail of pleasure leaves your mouth as you feel each pound so deeply, his hand still crushing your face as his hand stays snaked around your jaw

"yeah, you can't talk right now? how about you write it out instead" he chuckles a dark laugh you had only heard once before

You tug your brows up; what did he mean write? You could hardly breathe

One of his hands leave it's place on your hip, leaning over to grab the parchment that laid on your bedside, he moves slowly cautious to not slip out of you.

You try to follow his movement, it wasn't until the parchment and a quill was thrown in front of you that you that you became utterly confused.

Theodore crept his mouth just beside your ear, his breath hot against you "I want you to write out, how sorry you are" he whispered

"No tedd-" you begin

"It wasn't a question, go on" he insisted as he adjusted his hands back to your hips, arching your back even lower than it already was

'I'm not fucking playing. Pick up the pen" he instructed, his voice booming behind you

Your shaky hand bring the parchment closer, trembling as the quill touches down. You try your best, but Theo resumes his way with you, going harder than ever, slamming into you as you attempt to even remember to spell.

Your breath hitching as you finish your pathetic attempt at writing 'I'm sorry', your elbow giving out with the last letter.

"Good girl" he grins, flipping you over, facing him again, his hand sliding down your leg to finally grab hold of your ankle, positioning your leg to lay on his shoulder.

Delirious and dizzy, you lift your head up to watch what you are feeling, it was too much, seeing him pulse in and out, you can't help but take hold on his arm, clawing onto any part of him you could hold.

He could feel it, too, moving you to sit on his lap, you arms wrap around to his back, unsteady, your hands move up and down as you do.

"Theo, Theo, Theo" you pant out as you squeeze around him

"That's it, baby, let it out" he guides you as you feel that sticky white substance drips out of you, so full, so satisfied.

As he slows down and pulls out he connects your lips again, mouthfuls of love with each peck.

You both stay there, unmoving, catching your breath, Theo mumbling lovely words, how much he loves you, missed you, how good you felt after too long

"you feel better baby" he says as his hands find their way through your hair

"mhm" you nod gently in agreement mustering through the comedown of the high

"I needed that" you sigh, your forehead meeting his as he pucks your hair weakly behind your ear

"I know" he admits kisssing your forehead tenderly

"I did too" he continues as he wraps his burly arms around you

"c'mere", he mutters, moving you to spoon.

All of that tension, everything you just felt, you knew then and there, you couldn't right him next break either, if it meant you'd be fucked like that again.

...

my first proper proper smut... im sorry part 3 took so long, but here you go my babies <3

-B.

Comments, likes and reblogs appreciated my loves <3

Taglist: (everyone that commented for part 3) @cookiesex115 @jetblackpayne @flowersarcute @staarflowerr @iamaslytherin0 @fanfic-girl-2 @notttheo-sgirl @blocked-zombieartist @ayyeitssarahh

[miaoua3]

(pairing: bf! jun x f!reader)

missing my junnie a little extra today :(

you open your eyes, everything in front of you still a bit blurry and kind of dark due to having just woken up. you look for your phone, tapping your hand around the bed in hopes it is somewhere in there and that it still has some battery on it.

after you finally feel it under your pillow, you pull it out to see just how long you have slept for.

10:48am.

holy fuck. you have slept for over 11 hours.

ever so slowly, you sit up straight, rubbing your eyes in the process.

it is only now that you are able to concentrate that you can hear soft music playing from somewhere outside the bedroom, which can only mean one thing.

you boyfriend is finally back home.

getting out of the bed so quickly you almost fall face first into the carpet, you run out of your room and into the living room.

only to see your boyfriend's shirtless back turned towards you, putting away what looks like to be 7 new and different cat figurines on the bookshelf that is in your living room, quietly humming to himself along to the music playing from the tv.

almost as if he can sense you looking at him, he turns towards you, getting only mildly startled. once he recognises who it is that is standing there, he smiles widely.

"hey there sleepy head, i was wondering-", he starts to speak.

but you being you, and having not been able to see him for 3 months in real life, you don't give him the chance to finish his sentence, opting to run full speed at him.

reaching him in only few steps, you collide with his body, arms going directly around his neck. the force of your body knocking into his own is enough to make jun stumble back, letting a little 'oof' escape him.

his arms automatically, like an instinct, wrap themselves around your waist, hugging you so tightly he lifts you off the floor a bit.

which seems enough for you to wrap your legs around his waist, burring your face in his neck in hopes he won't see the tears escaping you.

although he may not see them, he definitely can feel them. but knowing you, there must be a reason why you aren't showing your face to him.

so he lets you cry all your tears out, even though there's nothing he would like more than to wipe them away at this moment.

he lets you hang off of his body like a little koala, not even complaining about your weight or that you have been hanging from his neck for 5 minutes now.

ever so slowly, you let your legs find the floor again, relieving him of holding you up for so long.

you look down intentionally, hiding your face away from him so that you can wipe your tears away, not wanting to bother him as he had just gotten home.

jun having none of that, puts a finger under your chin and slowly makes you look at him, his gentle smile and his own tears greeting you.

his gentle and big hands cradle your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you tried to hide.

the smile that was decorating his already handsome face stretches even wider as he watches you.

ever so quietly, his deep voice rasps out "there she is, my girl...my pretty baby." all while his thumbs still stroke your cheeks.

it seems that you aren't quite done with the tears because apparently it only took those words coming out of his mouth for you to start full on sobbing, voice wailing like a little child that has just fallen off their bike and scrapped their knees.

jun, not surprised one bit, just bring your face into his naked chest, hugging you tightly while you let it all out.

he gently kisses your head, shushing you because he doesn't really need yet another noise complaint from his neighbours on his first day back.

you try to utter a little "j-jun-" through your sobs, but to no success.

jun, the angel that he is, just lowers his head even more in order to kiss your cheek, letting his warm lips linger against your gentle skin.

through his own sniffles, he says "i know baby, i'm here..."

"...i'm right where i should be..."

"...i'm home, my love."

[edenesth]

[7:16 AM]

"I'm gonna dieeee," you wailed, curling up on the couch. Pouting, you glanced over at Jongho, who was busy preparing breakfast—or at least you thought so—in the kitchen of your shared apartment.

He snorted and shook his head. "You say that every month, yet here you are, alive and well time and time again."

"Would it hurt to console me a little? Try being a woman for a month and see how you like it." With a scoff, you reached for a pillow, ready to throw it at him, but a wave of cramps hit your lower half. Wincing, you clutched the soft material close and waited for the pain to pass.

Damn it, being a woman sucked. If you get pregnant, you suffer for nine months. If you don't, you still suffer every month. Why did you have to be a woman? Life would be so much easier if you were a man. Like that bastard standing there, engrossed in whatever he was doing, neglecting his poor girlfriend who was in so much pain—

"Here you go, babe. I got you your heat pad."

Oh.

Suddenly, you felt guilty for thinking of him that way when all he had been trying to do was ensure your comfort. Your lips quivered as you reached out to him with grabby hands. Damn your period mood swings; they were driving you insane.

His eyes widened in panic at your tears as he rushed over, kneeling beside you and gently pressing the pad onto your stomach, knowing exactly where to hold it by now. One hand on your tummy, the other instinctively cupped your face. "What is it, babe? Are you hungry? I can make you something to eat."

You shook your head, mumbling, "No, that's too much work."

He hummed thoughtfully. "I can cut you some apples, at least?"

"Break them in half, you mean."

He nodded. "Yeah, or that too."

Just as he moved to stand up, presumably to go break some apples, you whined and tugged on his hand. "No, you idiot. I don't need anything else. I just want you to stay here with me… please."

Your boyfriend finally understood the cause of your morning grumpiness. Though your period cramps were always terrible and tended to affect your mood, today you appeared even more restless than usual. He softened as he realised his mistake in fussing over you when all you really wanted was for him to stay by your side.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm here now. I'll stay with you for as long as you need me to," he whispered, settling beside you and pulling your smaller frame close. His heart fluttered when you immediately snuggled up to him as if it were second nature.

"Good, then stay forever," you murmured, leaning up to kiss his jaw. He gave you a comforting squeeze, his heart skipping a beat at your words. Pressing his lips against your head, he nuzzled his face into your hair, wondering why he hadn't done this sooner.

"Maybe I will," he said, savouring the feeling of you in his arms, pressed against him. The soft sensation of your breath on his skin, the warmth radiating from you, the rise and fall of your chest against his side, and the dreamy way you looked up at him—all of it made him think that staying like this forever wouldn't be so bad. "Be careful what you wish for. You'd better not grow tired of me when I do cling to you forever."

You bit your lip. "Never, Choi Jongho. I'll never get tired of you." With that, you sealed the promise with a kiss that seemed to make all the period cramps in the world disappear.

ATEEZ Masterlist

The way I'm tired asf but felt the need to get this out of my system before going to bed. It's that time of the month for me HAHA I'm in pain and honestly, nothing makes me feel better than being delulu🤡

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART FIVE

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 1.6K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, cussing, weapon caused injury (non-fatal), panic attack, pretty fluffy

A/N ✦ thank you to everyone who has been leaving kind comments, it means a lot <3

PART FOUR »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

Bucky stared back into your eyes, his phone pressed against his ear.

“Hey Buc-”, Tony started from the other end of the line.

“I’ll call you right back.”, Bucky cut off his friend, hitting end call on his screen, and tossing his phone to the side. 

“Y/N…”, Bucky started, “I need you to take some deep breaths for me sweetheart. I’ll explain everything.”

He studied your expression, the look of panic that swept your features was like that of a caged wild animal. 

You could feel your heart beating in your ears, sweat dripped down your temple, and the car suddenly felt like it was caving in on you. Before you even realized what you were doing, you peeled your high heels off your feet, threw open the car door, and took off sprinting into the wilderness that surrounded the car.

Bucky sat in stunned shock. Of all the possible things he thought you would do, this wasn’t one of the higher ones up on the list.

“Shit.”, he cursed, scrambling out of the car and running after you, “Shit, shit, shit.”

Small sticks stabbed into your feet as you ran through the trees. Your panic filled brain instructing you to run for your life, ask questions later. 

“Y/N!”, Bucky called from behind you.

You looked back over your shoulder for just a moment, and next thing you knew you were face down on the forest floor, having lost your footing when you glanced behind you. Footsteps crunched through the foliage, getting louder as they neared you. 

“Y/N, shit, are you okay?”, Bucky knelt down next to you.

You were most definitely not okay. Fear and anxiety overtook any other emotions, your body was not handling your near death experience well at all. You slowly sat up, wiping mud off of your face, looking into Bucky’s worried eyes.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered, “I don’t-I don’t…”

Your heart started racing quicker, another wave of panic rising. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”, Bucky reached out with his good arm, going to grab one of your hands but stopping just short of touching it, “Can I touch you?”

You nodded your head yes.

Bucky's fingers closed around yours, his thumb rubbing light circles on the back of your hand. 

“Y/N I want you to copy how I breathe okay? 

He lightly squeezed your hand as he took a deep breath in and blew the air back out, you mimicked him. The two of you sat on the woodland ground, in near silence, the only sound cutting through the air was the soft sounds of your breathing. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but the panic that overtook you, slowly dissipated. Glancing up, you looked at Bucky, him giving you a soft smile. You blushed and turned your eyes, accidentally staring at his shoulder injury. This man had just chased you through the woods to try and calm you down, even though he had been shot.

The realization of it made you burst into tears.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?", Bucky's voice was filled with worry.

You squeezed his hand tightly.

“I was just so scared that I ran, and you didn’t have to follow me or even check on me, but you did. You literally got shot and still ran through the woods after me to make sure I was okay.”, you sobbed out.

Tears and wails came out of you even harder. Bucky’s heart tightened, he released your hand, and reached up wiping tears off of your cheeks. 

“Sweetheart…”, he cooed, “You’re gonna make yourself sick, cryin that hard. And of course I followed you, I can't say I’m sorry enough for what just happened but I’m always going to try to do my best to make sure you’re safe.”

He pulled your head to his chest, your arms wrapped around his midsection, and you sobbed into his chest.

“Shhh”, Bucky whispered, smoothing down your hair, “It’s okay doll.”

You wept for awhile, eventually stopping once you had cried everything out. 

“Thank you.”, you spoke into Bucky’s chest, the vibrations radiating through him.

“Always.”

The two of you stood to your feet.

“Let’s go back to the car, okay? I need to get my phone and get ahold of Tony and Steve.”, Bucky reached back out to hold your hand.

You nodded. 

As you walked, you limped with every step, your feet having been torn up by all of the foliage you had run through. Bucky noticed you slowly falling behind. He looked down to your feet.

“How bad do they hurt?”, he asked.

“Pretty bad”, you sighed, “Running through the woods without shoes wasn’t my best idea.”

Bucky chuckled at you.

“Get on my back, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

You blinked at him.

“Bucky you literally just got shot.”

“So? I can’t carry you just because I got shot? Get on my back I’ll be fine.”

You realized the man in front of you wasn’t budging and you jumped up onto his back. The two of you finally made it through the clearing of trees, heading back up the small slope of grass back up to the car. Steve and Tony stood near the Mustang, two black SUVs parked near them. 

“Holy shit.”, Steve said, spotting the two of you.

Both men rushed to you.

“We found the shooter's car abandoned with the tire shot out. Sam and some other guys are trying to locate them right now.”, Tony informed Bucky, “Also what the hell happened to the two of you, no offense you look like shit.”

“Well, I got shot.”, he said nonchalantly, setting you back down, purposefully leaving it up to you if you wanted to mention what had just occurred in the woods.

“Where at?”, Tony asked.

Bucky shrugged himself out of his suit jacket, a small hole in his shoulder oozed blood, staining his dress shirt. Steve let a low whistle.

“Well the good news is, it’s not going to kill you.”, Steve started, “But healing from it is going to be a bitch.”

“Yeah no shit, Steve.”, Bucky laughed at his friend.

The three men discussed how they were going to meet back at Bucky’s home. 

“Once we get back, I want Bruce to look at Y/N’s feet first, then he can check up on me.”

Tony and Steve nodded, knowing it was going to be pointless to try to convince him he should get seen first, Bucky wasn’t going to change his mind. 

You, Steve, Bucky all headed towards Steve’s SUV, Tony walking to his own car. 

“I’ll get Scott to get the Mustang towed to your house.”, Tony called to Bucky before he jumped into his vehicle. 

Steve went ahead and got into the driver's seat, starting his car. Bucky opened the door behind him, helping you up into the backseat. 

“I’m going to be right back, I’m grabbing our stuff out of my car.”, he squeezed your hand, “And I promise, as soon as my doctor gets us fixed up, I will explain everything to you.”

“Okay.”, you replied softly.

Bucky closed the door as he headed back to his car. He picked up all of your belongings and turned back to Steve’s vehicle. Opening the passenger side backdoor, he jumped into the backseat with you.

The drive to Bucky’s house was calm. The two men in the car talked back and forth as you stared out the window, blocking out their conversation. You had locked your pinky with Bucky’s, needing to have something to ground yourself, keeping you calm. 

A half-hour later and the two black SUV’s pulled up to a large gate. There was a small guard shack in front of the entrance and a young man sat inside of it. As Steve rolled up to the booth, the guard nodded his head at him, pressing a button, rolling the gate open.

The house wasn’t a massive mansion as you had expected for someone with Bucky's wealth, but instead a large beautiful farm house. A covered porch wrapped around the front of the house, there were pots with large blooming mums decorating the steps leading up to the door, and big windows covered most of the home. 

“I'll let Bruce know what’s going on,” Steve said as he threw the car into park, exiting the car and hurrying inside.

Bucky got out of the car as well, coming around to where you sat, and opening your door.

“I’m going to carry you inside okay?”

You nodded your head. 

Once you got out of the car, Bucky situated you on his back once again, lifting you easily. He moved towards the front door of the house. Tony had exited his car and ran up the stairs before the two of you, opening the door.

“Thanks Tony.”, Bucky said. 

As he stepped inside with you in tow, you looked around your surroundings. The interior of the home was immaculately decorated, almost looking like a page out of Homes & Gardens magazine. Before you really got a chance to take it all in, Bucky moved down a hallway to your right. He walked past several doors, before entering one. 

Inside the room sat Steve and another man you hadn’t met you, who you assumed must be Bruce. A medical kit sat in front of him. 

“Bruce this is Y/N, Y/N this is Bruce.”, Bucky introduced the two of you.

“Nice to meet you.”, Bruce directed to you.

“Nice to meet you too.”, you smiled at him. 

You were in an office currently, bookshelves lined the walls, a few small couches sat opposite one another with a glass table in between them, and in front of one of the large windows sat a massive dark wooden desk, paperwork covering it. 

Bucky sat you down carefully. Bruce instructed you to sit down on the couch across from him, having you put your feet up on the table, giving him easier access to disinfect and wrap them.

Bruce smiled at you, reaching for a bottle sitting on the table, “Let’s get the two of you fixed up.”

PART SIX

TAGLIST IS OPEN!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

TAGLIST ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ @danzer8705 @sebastians-love @mrsnikstan @mgchaser @singsosworld @moviegurl2002 @akiyhara @multifandom-boss-bitch @dopewerewolfdaze @jules-and-gems @scott-loki-barnes @baebank @calicoootalks @dumblani @watarmelon212 @haven-in-writing @barnesxstan @alilstressyandlotdepressy

[tojistip]

The Doctor's Little Assistant.

ft. dottore !

sypnosis ; dottore rewards you for your hard efforts.

warnings ; top ! dottore , dottore is a warning himself , face fucking , power dynamics , boss n assistant relationships , degradation , slight praise , facials , light face slapping , lowkey rushed no bullying :'3

wc ; 1.6k. enjoy !!

Dottore's personal assistant. 

You're the only one allowed inside his lab, outside of his clones and his disgusting little lab-rats of course. You're one of the only ones he actually tolerates. You're always so good for him, tidying up his mess of an office when he doesn't ask and always bringing him extra coffee when you know he's running low on it.

He's almost certain he's not gonna kill you off like the others, he likes you.

He likes the way you immediately oblige like you even had a choice when he asks to experiment on you. "I'd be happy to, my lord." You say, giving him a smile and a nod. He knows that you're scared beneath your little act, he can just sense it, and he loves it. He gets off on your pain and fear, and he finds it amusing when you try to hold back your wails of pain. 

Dottore especially loves when you start to let tears run down your face because of how much it hurts. You're left trembling, sniffling every couple seconds as he unstraps you from the vivisection table, but you would be lying if you said there wasn't a part of you that secretly enjoys it. He's a sick and twisted sadist, and you like it.

He thinks you're so pretty with your tear stained face and ruined makeup. He just shakes his head when you complain about it as if you weren't the one crying.

Maybe if you had let him remove your tear glands and ducts it wouldn't be an issue.

Dottore brings you to the fatui meetings too, he knows it's not allowed but he could care less. when Pierro reminds him that, "Anyone who isn't apart of the ranks, is strictly not allowed into the meetings." Dottore ignores him, and he keeps you right by his side, and when he can see your legs getting tired, he orders you to sit on his lap. He doesn't care when you get embarrassed, and he certainly doesn't care that his co-workers look at you two either, his sadistic smile only grows larger.

"You've been a very obedient girl as of recent, haven't you." It was an observation, but you still nod your head as if he just asked you a question while you try to avoid looking at his face. "Stupid little thing. Look at me when I talk to you." Dottore growls. He grabs your jaw with a vice like grip to make you look up at him and even though you can't see his eyes, you can still feel them on you. It feels like all the air has been knocked out of your lungs and you're quick to mutter out an apology. "Of course, my lord.. 'm sorry." 

"Good girl." He praises as he pulls his gloved hand away from your jaw. "I'd say an award is in order, hm?" He says as he starts walking over to a swivel chair that's behind you. You want to follow him but in fear of being disobedient, you stay frozen in place. As he sits down, he calls out your name and you're quick to turn around to face him. 

"Crawl to me."

You stand there for a moment, processing his words, feeling the heat slowly creeping into your cheeks. "Yes, my lord," you manage to spit out. Despite the embarrassment, you comply, dropping to your knees and then shifting onto all fours, moving toward him as instructed. Each movement is deliberate, the anticipation building with every inch closer to him. Finally, you find yourself between his legs, facing him on your knees, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you settle between Dottore's legs, your heart begins to race due to anticipation. You can feel his gaze piercing through you and it sends shivers down your entire body as you wait for his next command.

Dottore smirks, relishing in the control he holds over you. "Always so good," he murmurs, his voice laced with dark amusement. "You know exactly how to please me." You lower your gaze, feeling the weight of his words like chains around your neck. "Thank you, my lord," you mumble obediently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk only widens as he looks down at you, reveling in the power he holds. His gloved hand reaches out, fingers curling under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The leather feels cold and unyielding against your skin. "You look good on your knees," he muses, his tone dripping with sadistic undertones. "Maybe I should make you my desk pet."

You whine and swallow hard at the suggestion, feeling a mix of fear and excitement coil in your belly. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly and truthfully you don't even know what you're asking for. The way he looks down upon you, like he knows you're inferior to him, sends shivers down your spine.

He releases your chin and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs slightly to give you more room. "You know what to do," he commands, his voice cold and demanding. "Show me how compliant you really are, love."

Oh fuck.

The pet name almost kills you and it makes your breath hitch. You nod anyway, reaching up with shaky hands to unbuckle his belt. You can feel Dottore watching you as you do so and you can feel your face burning with embarrassment. But you push through, determined to please him.

As you pull down his trousers, you're met with the sight of his cock straining against his boxers. it sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can't let out a soft moan at the sight. Dottore's chuckle is low and menacing, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. "Come on," he urges, his voice low and almost taunting. "You know better than to keep me waiting."

You comply and pulling down his boxers, freeing his cock and you can't take your eyes off of it. You lean in, pressing a tentative kiss to the tip and licking a long stripe up the side. Dottore's grip on your hair tightens, and he lets out a breath of approval. "Good girl," he murmurs. "Now take me in your mouth,"

You comply almost instantly. You open your mouth, taking his cock in slowly with your tongue swirling around the tip. Him in general but especially the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can feel the heat between your legs growing with each passing second. You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, and his low groan of pleasure spurs you on.

Dottore's other hand joins the first, holding your head steady as you bob up and down. "Such a whore," he degrades, his voice laced with arousal. "You take me so well. You were made for this, weren't you?"

You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him hiss. His voice and his words a thrill through you, and you try taking him deeper into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to please him. Your pace quickens, your movements becoming more desperate as you lose yourself in the task.

Dottore's grip tightens painfully, and he thrusts his hips up, forcing himself deeper into your throat. "This is what you wanted, hm." He says, and though it was a statement, you still try to nod your head stupidly. In the process you gag, tears springing to your eyes, but you don't stop and neither does he. "That's right, gag on it." His groans grow louder, his breathing becoming more ragged. "You're so pathetic."

Your eyes water as you look up at him, the tears only serving to heighten his pleasure as he loves to see you cry. He smirks down at you, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes down your cheek. "Pretty little thing.." He murmurs. "Take it, take it deeper."

He holds you there for a moment longer before finally releasing your head. You pull back, gasping for air, your lips swollen and wet with saliva. His chest is heaving up and down while you wrap your hands around the length of his cock. "I'm gonna cum," he groans, "Gonna paint your pretty face."

 Dottore pries your hands away from his cock and begins to stroke himself. You whine at the sight in front of you. "Please," you breathe out. He scoffs in amusement before slapping the tip of his cock on your cheek. "Open your mouth."

You instantly obey, looking up at him and sticking your tongue out. You're gross and messy right now but you know he likes seeing you ruined, especially if he's the cause. You're watching him stroke his cock from above you, pressing his thumb to the swollen and leaking tip. 

Your needy whines must've been just what Dottore needed to drive him over the edge. He groans as he reaches his climax and his free hand reaches for your jaw with a tight grip to hold you in place. Thick ropes of cum soon cover not only your chest, but your face and tongue as well. You keep your mouth open in an attempt and in hope to catch more of his cum on your tongue.

As soon as he comes down from his high, his hand comes down to slap your cheek and command you to swallow the bits that landed in your mouth. You oblige. He takes one more good look at you before tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants up. "Clean yourself up." He spits coldly, and you nod. "Yes, my lord."

"When you're done, there's some paperwork I need you to get from The Regrator's office. Once you get it, bring it back here and I'll reward you once more."

[sgojoenthusiast]

scary? my god, you’re divine.

✧.* satoru gojo x reader.

summary:

a curse invades your home but you’re saved by none other than satoru gojo - who takes your breath away in the most beautiful way.

cw: descriptions of violence, blood, injury, psychological trauma & distress, hospitals, reader is a non-sorcerer, like one like where the reader wants to die, talks about death, not exactly love at first sight but can be interpreted as such. honestly i’m so in love with gojo so this is just me projecting. fuck 261. this may be more of me indulging in my need to write horror lol

word count: 4.4k

likes, comments & reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

The walls of your chest were closing in as your breathing gradually increased in its pace. One of your palms flew to your chest whilst the other searched for some sort of a grip on the wall beside you.

Stupidly, you had backed yourself into a corner, and now all you could do was feel the streams of tears cascade down your cheeks and land on your scrambling legs like waterfalls crashing down into the rocks below.

You tried everything you could for some sort of leverage. One hand scraped at the wall and the other at your heart whilst your legs pushed and pushed at the floor as if you could nudge yourself any further into the corner you were in.

Finding some rationality, you attempted to slow your breathing down, deciding that steady and stifled breaths would be better than attracting attention to yourself by making more noise. Though, there was nothing you could do about the sound of your heart beating erratically like it had more sense than you as it tried everything it could to escape.

At first, you had clawed your way through the halls of your home. Lights flickered, floorboards creaked, and you grunted and groaned as you fought your way through inescapable death. Yet, once you had realised every exit took you back to the entrance, and that you were in some sort of an endless maze within your own home, your mind sank into illogicality and you collapsed onto the floor as your legs gave in from fear.

It was the reverberating echo of several burly legs loitering outside the door that snapped some residue sense into your head and forced you to sit up.

There were tears staining your swollen face and it took every ounce of composure to bite your lip to muffle your cries. You wanted to scream. To wail and call for help. Yet you knew that would get you nowhere but trouble.

So for now, you hoped and prayed someone heard the sounds of slamming, glass shattering and your previous shouts and had the brilliant idea of calling the police.

But what would they do? You had seen that thing. It was horrifying. From the moment its wide, crooked smile appeared suddenly before you, a piece of you knew this would be the end. At first, you had thought you had finally gone insane. That some chord in your mind had snapped and now you had resorted to seeing things. However, when your back hit the wall across the room and you let out a shriek of agony, you knew that the monster before you was real, and so was the likelihood of certain death.

Your head suddenly raised at the splintering sound of wood snapping.

The unsettled beating of your heart ceased. The struggling of your limbs too. Each bone in your body abandoned life and shut down - refusing to move.

In front of you, the white frame of the door, decorated with faded and torn paint, had an oozing, inky smoke unfurling at a leisurely pace across the old frame, stopping shortly at the wall. In the space where the door used to conceal your existence, was one giant red eye that scanned across the entirety of the room before settling on its target - you. It blinked twice, before the door was ripped from its hinges and the wall had shrunk in size - replaced by a gigantic hole ripping through.

Soon enough the creature was crawling over to you, its legs widely shuffling across the room, scuttling closer and closer until one had slashed across your stomach, painting your top with a deep red. An agonised shout parted from your lips and your hand flew to the gash, yet you had no time to recover before another deformed limb was lifting you up against the wall by your neck.

Now, both of your hands coordinated an attack on the void-like limb, scratching and fighting at its hold around your throat in an attempt to get it off you. Your efforts were seemingly futile, however, evident by the way your vision was becoming a blur and each thought of freedom and survival was being crushed by the surface of its contorted leg.

You could only think thoughts of death, and how it wasn't coming soon enough.

Just when you thought it had ended, a radiating beam blinded your vision. The grip on your throat had been released, yet with both the ringing in your ears that muffled all other noise and the searing pain that tore through your entire body, you truly believed that you had already died. You fell to the floor once more and curled yourself up for whatever kind of familiar warmth you could acquire.

You shut your eyes tight, embracing the light they said would come to you in these final moments. But when nothing came, and the screaming wound lingered in your side, you delicately opened up one eye, moving your head slightly to look up.

There was no light. No God or unearthly being descending from above to take your hand and guide you to the afterlife. No, instead there was the back of a man. You couldn't see his face, but he was dressed from head to toe in a dark shade of blue like the hues of the night sky, and the more you stared, the more you believed you had been transported to a place you could only reach after death. However, when your eyes drifted upwards, they made out the sight of white strands of hair, and a slender hand reaching to the back of his head to undo the band of black that was wrapped firmly around it.

His hair fell down gracefully, as did one of his hands to his side, blindfold in tow, the opposite hand was raised to meet the height of his head. The sounds of his words were muffled, but you could make out an arrogant laugh and from the way the beast had halted all movements and instead opted for staring wide-eyed at the man standing in front of you, he had said something that injected fear through the monster's veins.

You could have sworn that you only closed your eyes for half a second. Yet, one blink later, and the monster's head had ceased to ever sit on its neck. The black fog that had clouded your senses and suffocated your lungs was dissipating, and there were remnants of its insides splattered on the walls and floor.

The white-haired man caught your fading gaze, and the moment his eyes connected with yours, you felt your heart slow and time stop.

His eyes.

They were angelic. Perhaps you were dead because there was nothing so heavenly like the shades of the sky in his eyes on Earth. There was nothing so remarkable, so flawless. You didn't want to blink, not even as your eyes watered and started to sting. Yet the frailty of your exhausted body refused to let you have this one thing, and so you broke the connection temporarily only to rebuild it back up again.

He began to make his way back over to you, yet you struggled to find the strength to move in order to meet him halfway. You couldn't even find the strength to move your aching body off the floor or your bruised hand of your throbbing wound. Still, with a pained wince you moved to a more comfortable position in between being flat on your back and straight on your arm.

You looked up at him from your tilted position and he kneeled down beside you. "You alright? Can you walk?"

You shook your head as best as you could, he simply stared down at you with a confusing look sparkling in the depth of his eyes - the ones you couldn't look away from.

"That's okay, sweetheart. Help is coming." He smiled at you.

Gojo was puzzled by the look on your face. For some reason, you hadn't stopped staring at him since he turned around. He assumed that perhaps it had something to do with the curse. Was it a response to the trauma you had endured? Had it cursed you? Was it him that you were afraid of? He certainly hoped not. From the moment he saw your face, albeit not in particularly amazing conditions considering you were being strangled and were halfway to death's doorstep, he felt a tingling sensation in his stomach and a pulling in his heart.

There was something about you, there had to have been for you to illicit such a reaction from every part of him within seconds of your meeting. Fuck, he prayed that he hadn't frightened you off.

"I hope I didn't scare you." He said softly, yet laughed humourlessly in a way for him to play it cool and demonstrate how you had nothing to be afraid of. With as much care and delicacy as he could muster, one hand went underneath your head, gently trying to lift you up as his other hand reached for your waist.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, as though the implications of him scaring you were nothing short of laughable. Though, as you read the thoughts behind his eyes, you could tell there was a hint of genuine concern laced within them.

This stranger, who you had never met before, felt concerned for you and had saved your life. Yet, he was anxious that he had scared you? It was a ridiculous insinuation.

"Scared me? No, it's just, that you're beautiful." Your voice was growing weaker, and just in time, you heard the sounds of more footsteps growing closer and closer. Yet your eyes focused on the way his eyes widened before he smiled, just as genuine as his concern.

"Oh yeah?" He provoked. "No need to fall for me this quickly, sweetheart. Plenty of time for that."

Ordinarily, if someone had been so bold as to suggest something like that, you would have scoffed in their face and walked away. Yet the deeper meaning of comfort he was trying to provide you with, the one that showed you that you weren't dying anytime soon, was all you needed to laugh and reply coarsely with, "We'll see about that."

The last thing you heard as you dozed off peacefully was the sound of his laugh and the feeling of his touch passing you onto someone else's.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There was an overwhelming light above you, one that was strong enough to pierce through your eyes despite the fact they were shut tightly. The light surrounding you felt like a thousand blinding suns beaming down at you from above as though you were encased in a circle of light that was urging you awake. You groaned softly, shuffling your head to the side in an attempt to bury it in the pillow and escape from the natural, ringing alarms of the light.

A pillow? Had you been dreaming? All it took was for you to try shifting onto your side to alert you that, no, you hadn't been dreaming. You winced painfully as the realisation slapped you across the face. Everything was real. The fight, the struggle, the... the monster. A trail of goosebumps washed over your body and you screwed your eyes shut like doing so would erase the memories of what had happened.

However, once you realised that he was also real, your eyes softened and in all the darkness of what you had experienced that day, the idea that the man who had saved your life was really out there, and that monster wasn't. That realisation alone was enough to wash a sense of tranquillity and closure over you.

"I wouldn't try to move if I was you." A female voice rang out - one you didn't recognise. You had already assumed that you were in a hospital, so the unfamiliarity didn't scare or panic you. Simply, your eyes slowly opened to the sight of a brunette woman in a doctor's coat, and your suspicions had been confirmed. You wondered if she knew anything of what happened.

It dawned on you that perhaps, your situation wasn't original. The man that had saved you seemed to be experienced and knew what he was doing. However, surely you would've heard if there was a mass of monsters plaguing the Earth that you lived on.

"What happened?" You questioned tentatively, voice weak and dry. Although you could practically recall the events with no missing details, you wanted to know more about the thing that had attacked you and you hoped that the doctor would have some sort of a clue if she was the one treating you. She handed you a cup of water which you accepted eagerly, reaching your hands out and thanking her quickly before you immediately went to relinquish yourself of the dry throat that had been scratching and tormenting you since you had woken up.

You saw a pass clipped to her coat as a form of identification. The name on the pass flashed across your eyes as 'Shoko', to which you took a note of before quickly returning your gaze back to hers.

"You were attacked by a curse - and no I won't. explain what that is. You can ask Gojo." She was wandering around the room slowly, head down as she wrote down a few things. Occasionally, she would you a question in regards to your health. Her voice lowered to a tone barely above a whisper. "Sure he'd love to answer considering he's been not-so-subtly asking about you non-stop."

"What was that, sorry?" You asked sincerely, placing the cup down on the bedside table. Looking up at her, you could tell she had a tired look adorning her features, however, there was a slight smirk playing on her lips as well.

You thought more about her words. Gojo. Who was that? A curse? What does that even mean? Not long ago, you were oblivious to all of this, unaware that such creatures were roaming around.

Shoko waved a dismissive hand in your direction. "Nothing. Anyway, I'm only here to make sure that the curse left no lingering side effects that would need treatment. Luckily for you, you're in the clear. So when you're all healed up, you're a free woman."

'Free wasn't necessarily how you would describe it. You recall parts of your house being smashed up by the monster - or, curse, as Shoko had labelled it.

You had so many questions. Some in regards to the curse, others more personal and unanswerable that pertained to your future. You had no idea what you'd do once you left, and that scared you.

Shoko began to place her things into her bag, taking out a cigarette in the process and placing it between her lips as she held the lighter to her side ready for when she left.

"How long have I been here?"

She looked up at you from where she was focused packing her things. "A little under a week. You're very lucky Gojo had saved you when he did. Or else, you probably wouldn't be here."

So that's who Gojo was. You perked up a little at the mention of the man who had saved you. Even if it was just once, you wanted to see him. To thank him, at the very least. "You, uh...You mentioned something about me asking him about the curse. Does that mean he'll stop by?"

You looked down, fiddling with the sheet covering your injured body, wanting to avoid her questioning gaze that most certainly had a knowing glint in it.

She merely let out a small laugh and shook her head in something similar to disbelief. "Probably. Although, he doesn't usually find himself checking up on the people he saved." Picking up her bag, she reached for the door handle. "I've gotta head out. Feel better soon, okay?"

You thanked her once again, giving her a small wave as she headed out the door.

Truthfully, you didn't know whether or not to be discouraged by her words. On one hand, she had told you that he'd probably stop by. On the other, she mentioned that he doesn't usually. Deciding not to dwell on it too much, you closed your eyes once more as another nurse walked in to take the place of Shoko, beginning to do more check-ups.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

About a week had passed by when you were finally discharged from the hospital. During that time, your close friends and family had all come to check on you. Your best friend and co-worker had offered you her spare room whilst your house was having repairs done to it. It was a nice arrangement, considering the two of you owned a bakery together so that on the days you were feeling better you had someone who could take you down. You didn't actually start working again until about a month after you had been discharged and your injuries were mostly healed up.

There was only one thing missing. Gojo had never stopped by like the doctor had told you he might, which left you with a feeling of disappointment. You tried not to let it bother you too much, but it was difficult knowing you had never been able to thank him. Another man had stopped by, however. You assumed he had some sort of a connection to Gojo and Shoko, given that he had only stopped by to ask you to sign a form that would prevent you from being able to tell anyone about what had happened. He came very shortly after Shoko, meaning you had to lie to your friends and family by telling them it was another person who had broken into your home. You signed it anyway after he assured you it was for their safety and for the safety of others.

Now, a little over a month later, you were doing a lot better. You struggled to even close your eyes at night, sometimes, and often couldn't walk through the streets on your own. But other than that, your injuries had healed, you were far less paranoid than you were a month ago and your home was close to being ready.

You were sat at the counter of the bakery you shared with your best friend, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. It was quiet, today, only a few people wandering in and ordering something to go - with it being a Monday and all.

Unexpectedly, you heard the bell ring as the door opened. Immediately, you stood up and tucked your phone into your pocket, rushing to greet the customer. However, upon looking up to see the person who walked in, you stopped suddenly in your tracks. You blinked, yet he was still there.

You thought about him so often, your mind wandering whenever you were left alone with your thoughts for too long. You thought about the way his hair crashed across his features like waves when he took off his blindfold. You thought about how he turned to look at you with those eyes locked on yours. Those eyes - so entrancing. It was as though he had bewitched you and put you under a spell the moment he looked at you because you were so enamoured by him that you didn't dare to blink. You thought about how it was apparent that he never seemed to think about you - and that made you want to reach over the counter and slap him a little. Although, especially after he saved your life, what did he owe you? Absolutely nothing. So instead, you simply watched him walk over to you with a small smile on his face.

His coat was covered in snow from the outside rampage of white whisps and cold air. Though it wasn't incredibly obvious that there wasn't any, he shook his head slightly and a few remaining flakes of snow fell from the frozen tips of his hair. Although it was winter now, he sported a pair of sunglasses - to which you assumed it was for a reason related to why he was wearing that blindfold.

For the past month, you couldn't help but wonder whether or not his angelic presence was the result of your delirious and pain-stricken state. However, upon observing him now, you determined that he really was captivating in every way. And something was telling you that he was looking at you with the same impression, although you pushed the thought away, dismissing it as foolish hope.

You had no idea what to say to him. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, yet you never thought about what you might say. Thankfully, he decided to speak up first as he peaked over the edge of his glasses at you.

"I've been looking for you." He started, his voice seemingly breathless like he'd run a mile just to get here to you - like he was tired of looking, but his work had finally paid off. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner - when you've got a job like mine it's-"

"Thank you." You interrupted. The mention of his job had smacked some sense into you as you were reminded of what he had done for you. He looked slightly taken aback. It wasn't something he heard often, but when he did it was as though he was reminded why he did this in the first place - let alone hearing it from you. The girl he hadn't been able to shake out of his head since the moment he saw her, the one he yearned to see just one more time because she looked at him like she understood him and that was all he could ever ask for. "Can I get you something?"

Gojo smiled at that, taking you up on your offer as you grabbed him his order (on the house, of course) and finally sat down with the one you had wanted nothing more than to just sit and talk with - and you did. The two of you talked for hours, occasionally interrupted by a customer or two. You thanked him profusely to the point where he threatened to leave jokingly if you thanked him again. He explained everything to you and answered all of your silent questions for you that you had to keep close to your chest for the past month. Yet, most importantly, you talked about each other. And the more you talked, the more your heart raced and heat rushed over your entire body.

The all-powerful Satoru Gojo never expected to find himself so infatuated by somebody, yet when he saved you that day, there was an inexplicable fire that was lit from within him. He'd never seen anybody so beautiful, and he had never been recognised by anything other than he strength during moments like that. When you had complimented him, he knew from within that it wasn't solely his physical characteristics you appreciated, but also the person he was inside. He felt as though you saw inside of him just from that short interaction.

As you spoke, Gojo found himself digging around with both hands trying to find that smile you kept flashing him and when you did, he didn't so much as blink because it was so bewitching. And likewise, whenever he laughed at something you said, you couldn't prevent the satisfied smile that rested on your cheeks from the prideful feeling overtaking your mind.

Your hand wrapped around your mug, savouring the delightful warmth that radiated from it in contrast to the biting cold that howled away outside the building. The two of you were sat in a corner opposite each other, and as more time passed, the more your cheeks began to ache from your constant smile and laughter and the more you dreaded to get up when a customer walked through.

"I swear! I'm a busy man okay. I was out of town when you woke up." He sulked, his head resting on his hand with a pleading look in his eyes. You laughed at his effort of reason.

"And the month following, you were..." You prompted with a humourous tone laced into your words.

Before he could answer, his hand slipped forward slightly, grazing yours and sending shockwaves throughout your entire arm and body. Avoiding his stare, you turned away, unable to conceal your smile and the way he had your breathing speed up every second he spoke to you and touched your hand like he was. At this, he pouted, leaning to the side in an attempt to catch your eyes yet you turned even more with a laugh.

Sighing, he answered your previous question. "Shoko says I was nervous. I would argue that I was simply building tension for the plot."

You snorted at his absurdity, moving your hand back to take a sip of your drink. He sagged a bit in disappointment at your actions, yet when you placed your drink back and had your hand brushing against his just the same as before, he livened up a bit and grinned at you once more. You delighted in the way he looked at you over his glasses and smiled. It had been a while since you felt a connection like the one between the two of you, yet you had never experienced it so quickly. It was all-consuming and had you on the edge of your seat in anticipation as to what he woud say and do next.

Soon enough, the day had reached its end - and if it weren't for the sun barely peaking out over the window to the bakery, you wouldn't have believed that you had practically spent the day with Gojo with it feeling like just an hour since he first walked in. Though the amount of hours you had shared with him said differently, you felt like you hadn't seen enough of him.

After he put his coat back on, he turned to face you with a smile playing on his lips. "So... I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night?"

You swore that if he hadn't invited you out to dinner when he had, you would've dragged him out later that night handcuffed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: if it wasn't entirely obvious i got a bit lazy towards the end (major character flaw of mine). i am an absolute SLUT for the non-sorcerer x sorcerer trope tho.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟsgojoenthusiast