#quiet and purring until it all stopped

[biohazard-inevitable]

Just because I can feel when death is coming,

Doesnt make it easier when it happens.

[raevalyntine]

normal things you do that makes the lads men weak in the knees! (fluff, slightly suggestive)

characters: sylus, zayne, rafayel, caleb, xavier

sylus! (reversing the car with one hand)

“You sure you can handle her, kitten?”

Sylus raised a brow, that smug, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned against the hood of his ridiculously sexy car — the same one he’d brought you in during your last mission. Midnight black, polished to a mirror finish, and all sharp curves and quiet danger. The kind of machine that purred when it moved. Just like him.

You twirled the keys around your finger, eyes gleaming with challenge. “Please. If I can handle you, anything else is a breeze.”

He let out a soft, amused laugh, the kind that rumbled low in his chest and made your heart flutter. "Careful now. You keep testing me, sweetie, and I might stop pretending to be nice."

You arched a brow. “That’s not a threat at all.”

“Cheeky little kitten,” he muttered, half under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear. His fingers brushed your waist as he opened the door for you, like he couldn’t not touch you. “Try not to crash her. Or I’ll have to remind you what real control looks like.”

You slid into the leather seat like you belonged there, flashing him a wicked grin. “Mm. Threaten me with a good time, why don’t you?”

You will be the death of him.

–

Truth be told, he never intended to let anyone else drive it. But it was you. And Sylus could never say no to you—not when you looked at him like that, with excitement dancing in your eyes and your hands already on the wheel like you belonged there. Not when your smile and those bright, determined eyes were the only reason he even bothered to wake up some mornings. So, he climbed into the passenger seat with a lazy, indulgent smile and watched you.

He didn’t expect to be completely undone within minutes.

You were so focused, eyes sharp, lips pursed just slightly, hands adjusting the mirrors like you’d done it a thousand times. The dim streetlights lit the inside of the car in soft amber glows, playing off your skin and making you look breathtaking. He’d always thought you were beautiful. But this? This was something else.

And then came the reverse.

You shifted gears smoothly, turned to check behind you, and put your right arm behind his headrest, your other hand loose and controlled on the wheel. You leaned back slightly, posture effortless, movements confident.

Sylus went still. The moment your arm slid behind him and your body leaned in close, his brain short-circuited.His breath hitched — somewhere between a curse and a groan — and he didn’t even pretend to look away. No, he stared shamelessly. Like you were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen — and you knew it.

The car slipped into park with a clean click.

“You okay?” you asked, glancing at him with a knowing smirk. “You’ve gone awfully quiet over there.”

His eyes dragged over your profile — that smug smile, the rise and fall of your chest, the way you sat like you owned the whole damn car. His voice came out rough, breathless, honest.

“You trying to kill me, sweetie?”

You blinked at him innocently. “What? I didn’t even hit the speed limit.”

“Kitten, don’t tease me,”  he muttered, eyes still fixed on you like you might disappear. 

You snorted, laughing. “You’re dramatic.”

“And you,” he muttered, still staring, “are dangerously attractive. Remind me never to let you drive again.”

You raised a brow, cocky. “What? Afraid I’ll outshine you?”

“No,” he murmured, leaning in close until his breath brushed your skin. He pressed a kiss just under your jaw — slow, teasing. “Afraid I’ll crash the damn car next time… because I’ll be too distracted watching you.”

zayne! (tying up your hair)

The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional soft rustle of paper and the ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat cross-legged on the couch, Zayne right beside you, both of you lost in your own worlds—his full of medical scans and diagnostics, yours in a stack of mission reports. You were wearing one of his old T-shirts. It was a little too big on you, the sleeves falling slightly off your shoulder and the hem pooling around your thighs. But it was soft, smelled like him, and frankly, you weren’t about to wear anything else when you were spending the night with Zayne.

He had started out focused—really, he did. But somewhere between you curling your legs under you and the way your brow scrunched while reading the file, his eyes had started drifting from his report to you. Again and again. And then just... stayed there.

He should’ve been reading about some medical stuff or… well, he forgot what he was even reading about. Because all he could think about was how unfair it was for someone to look that gorgeous doing something as mundane as paperwork.

And then you did that.

You let out a quiet sigh, strands of your hair falling across your face as you leaned forward slightly. You grimaced, frustrated, and reached for the hair tie on your wrist. Zayne watched in real-time as you gathered your hair into a loose ponytail, arms raised above your head, exposing the soft curve of your neck. His T-shirt slipped just a little lower on your shoulder as you moved, your skin glowing faintly in the golden evening light.

And he lost all sense of what he was doing.

Before you could even secure the tie, Zayne was there, leaning in, his lips brushing against the bare skin of your neck, soft and warm and lingering.

You froze for a second, surprised, your fingers still tangled in your hair.

A small, breathless laugh escaped you. “What was that for?”

He didn’t move far, just rested his forehead against your shoulder, voice low and a little hoarse when he answered, “You’re distracting.”

You smiled, finishing the ponytail and turning slightly to face him. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Sweetheart, you could be taking out the trash, and I would still think you’re irresistible,” He exhaled through a smile, shaking his head. “I never stood a chance.”

You nudged him playfully, cheeks warm. “You’re unbelievable.”

Zayne just leaned in again, his hand brushing your knee gently, lips returning to your neck like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured, leaving a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck, “so are you.”

caleb! (drinking water after a gym session)

The gym was dimly lit by the time you finished, the late evening hush settling in as the last of the music faded into the background. You were both drenched in sweat, panting, muscles sore and shaky—but satisfied.

Caleb dropped the dumbbells with a grunt, resting his hands on his hips as he turned to look at you.

Big mistake.

You were standing there in those tights—the ones that hugged every curve and made his brain stutter like a broken machine. Your sports top was damp, your skin glistening, and your cheeks flushed from exertion. Even just breathing, you looked like a goddess to him.

But then you tilted your head back and took a swig of water.

And he swore the world was in slow motion.

A bead of sweat slid down your neck, joining a drop of water that trickled from the corner of your lips down to your collarbone.

Caleb let out an actual groan.

Before you could lower the bottle, he was behind you. You yelped in surprise as his hand gently but decisively took the bottle from yours, and his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

“Caleb—!” you squealed, breathless and laughing. “We’re both sweaty! And disgusting!”

He didn’t even seem to hear you. His lips found your bare shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world, brushing warm and soft over damp skin. He tightened his hold just slightly, his breath hot against your neck.

“I need you,” he murmured, voice rough, low, and devastatingly serious.

You went still in his arms.

“Right now,” he added, kissing up toward the corner of your jaw, like you weren’t both soaked in sweat and supposed to be cooling down.

“You’re insane,” you mumbled, heart pounding.

He chuckled, but didn’t deny it. “Only for you, pipsqueak.”

rafayel! (covering the edge of a table to protect his head)

You and Rafayel sat side by side at the table, paint tubes scattered around you like colourful confetti. Brushes lay haphazardly in every direction, and two half-finished canvases rested on the table. The air was thick with the sharp scent of acrylic paint and something softer—maybe the faint scent from your lotion, or maybe just the warmth radiating from him so close you could almost feel it.

You were both caught up in the fun of switching canvases every few minutes, layering your styles to create something beautifully chaotic. You wore one of his T-shirts, the sleeves rolled up messily, and a streak of turquoise paint marked your cheek like a badge of honor. It felt effortless, playful—until his brush slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Damn it,” he muttered, already crouching to retrieve it.

Without even glancing up from your own canvas, your hand moved instinctively—sliding out to cover the sharp corner of the table edge, the one his head was dipping dangerously close to.

Rafayel didn’t even notice at first. But when he came back up, brush in hand, he saw you: your expression serene, brow furrowed lightly in concentration, your other arm still braced protectively over the edge.

You hadn’t done it for attention. You probably hadn’t even realized you'd done it at all.

But something inside him shifted.

It was the smallest act. Quiet. Thoughtless. Pure muscle memory, like you were wired to look out for him.

And you were still wearing his shirt. Still sitting in the golden afternoon light like a soft dream come to life. His lips parted slightly, breath catching as he watched you.

You finally looked over. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer.

Just leaned in and kissed you—soft, full, and far too deep for such a quiet moment. Like he'd just remembered he was desperately in love with you all over again.

When he pulled back, you blinked, dazed. “...Raf?”

“I love you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. And somehow, it did.

xavier! (leaning over him to reach something)

The two of you were in the kitchen, lazily prepping dinner together after a long day. Xavier was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching the pot simmer while you moved around the space like you owned it—because you basically did. This was his place, sure, but the way your presence lingered in every room made it feel more like yours.

He was keeping a casual conversation with you as your eyes flicked toward the cabinet above him. You took a step closer.

Then, with no warning, you leaned right over him, reaching for the top shelf where the spice jar sat, just slightly out of your natural reach. Your torso pressed gently against his arm, your shoulder brushing his chest. His voice faltered as the scent of you infiltrated his senses.

You didn’t notice.

Or maybe you did, but acted like you didn’t.

Your fingers wrapped around the jar, and then you were pulling back with a victorious smile, turning away like nothing had just happened. You were already opening it, humming softly as you shook a little spice into the pot.

Xavier hadn’t moved an inch. His thoughts, on the other hand, were a battlefield.

The heat of your body. The effortless way you invaded his space. The soft scent of your shampoo still clinging to the air. The sound of your breath when you reached. The hem of your shirt rising just a bit too high when you stretched. All of it left him rooted to the floor, watching you like you were a living temptation he didn’t deserve.

“Xavier?” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “You okay?”

He blinked. Swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, voice lower than he meant it to be. “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You tilted your head, genuinely puzzled.

“Just... reach over people like that. Casually. Like you didn’t just—” He broke off, jaw clenching slightly. “Never mind.”

Your smile turned slow. “Xavier, were you flustered?”

He scoffed lightly. “I don’t get flustered.”

You stepped closer, eyes dancing. “You do. When I do things like this—” and then you brushed your fingers down the front of his shirt, featherlight, “—you get a little distracted, huh?”

He exhaled slowly, catching your wrist, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re cruel,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours, heat simmering under his skin.

“And you’re easy to tease.”

He didn’t argue. He just kissed you, deep and slow, hands slipping to your hips with intention that made your knees weak. 

The pot simmered on the stove, long forgotten, the scent of dinner fading into the background. You had to call for takeout instead—something quick, something easy—because every touch, every lingering look from Xavier left you trembling in a delicious kind of ache.

Later, you sat across from each other at the small table, plates between you, but your mind miles away. Your body was already sore from the way he’d claimed you, but Xavier smiled like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just shown you exactly what it cost to tease him.

His eyes caught yours over the rim of his glass, warm and dangerous, and you knew the night was far from over.

a/n: thank you everyone for all the love on my writings!! this one had been in my drafts for awhile but I only got to revisit and edit it yesterday. i apologize in advance if any of them are out of character, or some a little short than the others. I'm still learning and practicing on how to write for each character, but I do hope my silly little writings can make you smile. love you everyone!!

[livelaughlovesubs]

Head empty, only thinking about my fav’s creaming on my fingers.

It was such a nice way to get him all horny and messy for you in public, without too many risks. All you had to do was sneak your hand past his waistband, down that soft ass and inside his underwear. Next thing on the list was to tease that pretty boy and watch him stutter during an important conversation. His nails dug into his palms, face heating up as he fake coughs, trying to cover up his gasps as he excuses himself. Glaring at you but not slapping your hand away~

Or in some random bathroom stall! Make him bend over with his hands on the door as you fuck him on your fingers, purring at him to stay quiet if he doesn’t want to get caught. Calling him a dirty pervert when he fails and moans out loud. You say that, but you are obviously the one who wants to get exposed! Just to see him cry out of humiliation… even so he can’t stop begging for more while pushing his hips back ♥︎

Though it wasn’t only fun in public. It was also a spectacle when he’d straddle your lap, arms wrapped around your neck in a deadly grip. Those kiss-swollen lips right next to your ear while he whimpered for you to fuck him harder, to please put it in. Teary eyes with a dazed look as you made him cum the third time that day with only your fingers. Mocking him for being such a needy whore, creaming all~ over himself like some virgin. How much longer were you going to overstimulate him?

Maybe if you are feeling extra mean, you’d make him finger himself on your shared bed. Sitting in front of him and watching as you gave him commandos. Telling him to spread his legs more, to push another finger inside, or to beg more lewdly. At first he was so shy, so hesitant to show you all these embarrassing parts. Yet after some time he couldn’t think of anything else but the heat in his core, the need to be filled and fucked until he forgets his name ♡♡～

Wet squelching sounds echoing through the room as his whined out prayers reached your ears, hearts in his pupils and fingers knuckles deep inside his abused hole. He felt so tired, his eyelids so heavy, as if he was on the verge of passing out. A melting expressing plastering his blushing face, with glossy eyes and shiny tears. His body was trashing around, squirming and shaking with pure desire. And that useless dick was squirting with his precum. At the same time, he was begging you with such a sweet and debased voice. Pleading for your dick, and for you to absolutely wreck his insides.

“Please, plea~se..! Hnnghhh, I need you so bad, so- ahh♥︎ so fucking bad…! Ngh, f-fuck me, ruin me ♡♥︎♡”

Your favourites~

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𝝑𝑒 ． BIGGGGGG GUY ! 𝒻𝓉．𝓂𝓎𝒹ℯ𝒾𝓂ℴ𝓈

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 tws : nsfw/smut. fem!reader, size kink, breeding kink, kitty mydei (hybrid), mate pressing, cūm play, nipple sucking, holding orgasm, squirting, multiple of rounds, sub reader & dom mydei, biting, spanking, no preparation, heavy dubcon and hair pulling.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis : your big kitty is in heat. (minors do not interact!)

You didn’t know what it meant when Mydei started acting strange.

He was already quiet, intense, a little too sharp-eyed for a hybrid you were told was “tame.” But the way he moved around you now? Stalking. Pacing. His tail swished behind him, low and tense, and his golden eyes stayed pinned to you no matter what you were doing—folding laundry, sipping water, brushing your teeth. He watched like he was starving.

And you didn’t know hybrids went into heat.

Not until he snapped.

It was late. You padded barefoot into the kitchen for a drink, wearing one of his oversized black tees and cotton panties. You didn’t expect him to be there—leaning against the counter shirtless, chest rising with shallow breaths, sweat curling golden hair to his temples, tattoos glowing faintly red beneath the skin.

He turned when you entered.

His pupils were wide. Almost blown out.

“…Master.”

You paused. “Mydei?”

“You smell sweet,” he rasped. “Wet, I can fucking taste it.”

Your thighs clenched. “W-What?”

His head cocked slowly. His ears twitched. And then—he lunged.

You gasped as your back slammed against the fridge, breath stolen by the sudden grip of big hands dragging your legs around his hips. His cock pressed hot and heavy through his sweats, grinding between your thighs. You squirmed, but he growled—a guttural, chest-deep snarl—and pinned your wrists above your head in one hand.

“I tried,” he whispered, breath ragged against your neck. “Tried to be good. But I’m in heat. And you smell like you want it. So stop pretending.”

He yanked your panties aside and shoved his cock between your folds.

No prep. No warning.

You screamed—he was huge, thick, veiny, leaking hot against your slit. He didn’t slide in. He forced your pussy open around the blunt, aching head, inch by inch, dragging your slick out with every brutal push. You thrashed, gasping, overwhelmed by the stretch.

“M-Mydei, too big—!”

“You’ll take it.” His mouth was on your throat, kissing, sucking, biting. “You’re my mate now. This pussy belongs to me.”

You sobbed as he bottomed out. Buried to the hilt. It hurt—deep and too much—but the pressure made your pussy flutter, desperate and needy.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, tail whipping behind him. “Like you were made to get stuffed full of my cock.”

He rutted into you like an animal. Fast, heavy, loud. The slap of skin on skin echoed through the kitchen as your body bounced against the fridge. He licked up your neck, sucked your nipple through your shirt, then ripped the fabric open to get at your bare breasts. His mouth was hot and wet, tongue swirling, teeth scraping.

You moaned. You couldn’t help it.

“Hold it,” he growled, hips pounding. “Don’t you cum. Not yet.”

Your legs shook. Your pussy clenched around him, dripping.

He pulled out suddenly—just enough to slap the tip against your clit. You jerked, whining. He slammed back in and you screamed, squirting messily between your thighs. Slick gushed around his cock.

He purred.

Low and vibrating.

“My messy little master,” he cooed, kissing your tear-stained cheeks. “So wet for me.”

He dropped you onto the counter and knelt.

Then his tongue was on your pussy—long, rough, lapping through the cum and slick. He sucked your clit and licked around your folds, cleaning every drop, pushing two fingers in and spreading you wide to see it all leaking out.

You were crying now. Overstimulated, twitching.

“C-Can’t—please—!”

“Shhh,” he murmured, dragging his tongue up your slit. “I’m purring for you. You’re doing so good.”

He flipped you over and bent you over the counter.

The kitchen counter was cold under your skin, a shocking contrast to the heat pooling deep inside you. Your legs were spread wide, bent and trembling as they hooked over Mydei’s forearms, his larger body looming above you. His golden hair was wild and messy from the first round, the ends brushing your cheeks, his pupils narrowed and sharp in that soft, predatory way—half-lidded and drunk on you.

His cum was still leaking out of you from earlier, slicking your thighs, but that didn’t stop him. If anything, it only made him purr louder as he pressed his cock right back into your overstimulated cunt, slow and deliberate. He didn’t care that you were still twitching, still gasping. No—he relished it. He needed it.

“Still so tight,” he groaned, voice rumbling low in his throat. “Still squeezin’ me like you didn’t just milk me dry. Master’s pussy’s just made for me, huh?”

His tail wound tightly around your waist like a belt, the tuft brushing your tummy, reminding you of how deep he was. The stretch burned in the best way, and he didn’t thrust. Not yet. He stayed deep, all the way inside, hips flush against yours, mate-pressing. Pinning you. Claiming you.

Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, heavy with need again already.

He leaned down, nose brushing your cheek, nuzzling with affection completely at odds with how wrecked you already were. “Gonna make you take it all again, master,” he whispered, tugging your hair back so your throat arched for him. His lips found the soft skin there and kissed it, nipping with just a hint of fang. “This time, I won’t let any of it spill out. Gonna keep you plugged full.”

Your pussy clenched at his words, and you could feel him twitch inside you.

“That's it,” he purred, pressing in just a little deeper, making your back arch off the counter as you whimpered. “You feel that? That’s where it needs to be. Right there, nice and deep. Don’t run from it now. You were made to be filled.”

He rocked his hips just once, barely moving—but even that small shift made your body jerk. His cum squelched softly inside, making you feel every slick, messy inch of him.

“Y’really gonna squirt for me again, huh?” he breathed, watching your expression with greedy delight. “One little grind and you're already clenching up like a good girl.”

You couldn’t stop your body from reacting—everything was too much, too sensitive, too full. Your eyes welled up with tears from the pressure building again, and you reached for him blindly. He caught your hand in his, pinning it to the counter above your head with a gentle growl.

“Not yet,” he cooed. “Wanna feel you beg for it. You held it last time, you can hold it again, can’t you? Be good for me. Be a good little master.”

Your legs kicked helplessly, and he chuckled, cock grinding in slow, deep circles that made your toes curl. He nuzzled your cheek again like a pleased cat, while his other hand trailed down between your legs, fingers rubbing your clit in soft, slow strokes.

And that was it.

You came again with a strangled sob, pussy squirting around him, soaking his cock and your inner thighs and the counter beneath you. Your legs trembled as you tried to close them, but he held you open, watching the mess with a wide, possessive smile.

"Good girl,” he breathed, hips beginning to thrust now—deeper, faster, chasing his own high. “Fuck, look at you. So pretty when you lose it for me.”

The counter creaked beneath you, but he didn’t stop, hips snapping hard and slow, driving his cum deeper every time.

And when he came—again—it was with a shuddering gasp, pressing as deep as he could go, holding himself inside, keeping you stretched and stuffed.

Neither of you moved.

Not for a long time.

His tail stayed wrapped around your waist, his arms curled protectively around you as he nuzzled into your neck with a sleepy purr. “Still not done,” he murmured. “But I’ll let you breathe a master. Just for now…”

You were still on the counter, your back damp with sweat, your thighs glistening and spread wide, twitching from overstimulation. Mydei never pulled out—not fully. His cock stayed nestled inside, his cum lazily leaking around the base, warm and thick and dripping down onto the counter edge.

He hadn’t even softened.

You felt him twitch inside again, and before you could even catch your breath, he was moving.

“Round three, master,” he murmured against your skin, voice raspy and smug. “You didn’t think I was gonna stop, did you? Not ‘til this pretty pussy learns how to hold it.”

His hips rolled forward in one slow, deep stroke, and your entire body jolted, pleasure shooting through your core like electricity. You were beyond sensitive—your clit throbbed, your cunt spasmed—and he could feel it. He loved it.

“Still clenching like you’re begging me to stay,” he purred, lips dragging lower, latching onto your nipple without warning. His mouth was hot and hungry, tongue flicking fast, before sucking hard enough to make your back arch and your pussy clench again.

You cried out, voice thin and helpless.

His hand smoothed over your ass, caressing it lovingly—and then came the spank. A sharp slap that made your thighs flinch and your breath catch. Then another. And another. The soft sting echoed through the room, warmth blooming where his palm struck.

“Good girl,” he whispered around your nipple, still sucking, still grinding slow and deep inside. “You can take more. I know you can. Don’t you dare cum yet.”

You whimpered, squirming, begging with your eyes even as your walls fluttered.

His cock twitched inside you, thick and hot and impossibly deep.

Your legs kicked against his sides, but his arms caged you in, one hand squeezing your breast while his other hand slipped between your thighs to press your clit—slow, maddening circles, just enough to make your body spasm again. You choked on a moan, legs shaking violently.

“You hold it,” he growled. “You hold that orgasm ‘til I say. Be a good little master. I want this last one messy. Screaming. You hear me?”

You nodded weakly, tears in your eyes, pussy spasming around him while your body trembled with the effort of holding it back. His tail curled around your thigh again, dragging you open wider, hips thrusting harder now—sharp, deep, desperate.

“Now,” he snarled, voice thick and raw in your ear. “Cum for me now.”

You shattered.

You screamed as your orgasm hit you like a wave, squirting so hard your legs gave out, your pussy clenching and milking his cock with wild, spasming pulses. His name spilled from your lips over and over as your vision blurred.

He thrust one more time, deep and final, before he spilled inside you again, hot and endless, painting your insides full for the third time.

He stayed there, buried to the hilt, panting against your skin, tongue lazily flicking your overstimulated nipple as you both came down.

“That’s it… that’s it, master,” he breathed, kissing your chest. “So full now. Bet you can feel it all inside. Makin’ sure it stays. You’re mine.”

He nuzzled against you, tail still curled possessively, cum trickling slowly down the curve of your ass onto the counter as he lazily rutted a few more times—just to make sure it took.

No one moved.

Just the sound of heavy breathing, his arms cradling you like a prize, his lips brushing your sweat-slick skin in sleepy kisses.

“I’ll clean up,” he whispered. “But not yet… Just wanna stay like this a little longer.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[bellamys-baby]

Thinking of… 𐙚ᣟ݂

Dumb!ditzy!reader x Rafe when they fight:

The fight had been stupid.

Okay, maybe it had started because you called his dealer “kind of nice” after he held the door open for you — and maybe you did giggle a little too hard when he complimented your lip gloss. But it wasn’t that deep.

But Rafe’s eyes had gone sharp, mean — and before you could blink, he was barking at you in front of everyone. That angry tone. That cold stare. The way he spat “Do you even think before you speak, or is your head just full of lip gloss and Instagram filters?”

You’d said nothing.

Just stood there like a kicked puppy until you finally turned around and left. You didn’t even wait for him to follow. You barely remembered how you got home.

Now it was hours later.

The silk tie on your robe was knotted too tight. Your lashes were clumpy from crying. And you were curled up in the corner of the bed, surrounded by pillows and a half-eaten bowl of cereal you didn’t want anymore.

Your eyes hurt. Your face hurt. Your heart hurt.

Your bottom lip wobbled as you stared at the door, waiting. Hoping.

He’s not coming home.

He was probably out somewhere still pissed, chain-smoking and calling you names in his head. Maybe he’d realized he was tired of babysitting his airhead girlfriend. Maybe he’d finally decided you were too much work.

And maybe you were.

You sniffled as you pressed your face into your sleeve. You were stupid. You knew it. Everyone always said you were — Rafe included, sometimes, when he was tired or mad or both.

But you loved him.

And now he hated you.

The front door creaked open.

You froze. Heart stopping. Head snapping up, curls falling into your eyes. You heard the soft sound of sneakers on hardwood, then his voice — calm, gruff, like nothing had even happened.

“Baby?”

You didn’t say anything. You stayed in your nest of sadness and almond milk. He appeared in the doorway seconds later — messy hair, tired eyes, hoodie slung over one shoulder.

And in his arms…

…a kitten.

A tiny, gray, squirmy little fluff ball with big ears and a pink ribbon tied gently around its neck.

Your mouth parted. A soft, wet hiccup broke from your chest.

“You got a cat,” you said stupidly.

Rafe ran a hand over his face. “She’s not a cat yet, she’s a baby. Just like you.” He walked over, nudging a pile of your blankets aside with his knee. “Figured if you’re gonna cry this much, you should at least have someone to match your energy.”

You stared at the kitten. Then at him.

“I thought you were mad at me,” you whispered, voice all glassy and broken.

He looked at you for a long second.

Then dropped the kitten gently on your lap — where it immediately started climbing onto your fuzzy pink robe, purring — and knelt in front of you, resting his hands on your knees.

“I was mad,” he said slowly. “But I still love you.”

You blinked fast, overwhelmed, reaching out to touch his face with trembling fingers. He let you, his eyes dark and tired but so soft.

“You think I’m dumb,” you mumbled, voice cracking again. “You said my head’s full of filters.”

He sighed, fingers curling around your thighs.

“Sometimes you say dumb shit. That’s different. You’re not dumb, baby. You’re just…” he searched for the word, lips twitching a little. “Sweet. And clueless. And too trusting. And it scares the fuck outta me.”

You pouted. “I didn’t even like his compliment. It was a gross compliment. I only said thank you ‘cause I was raised polite.”

“I know.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to your knee. “I was being an asshole. I know.”

You were quiet, running your hands through his hair, lip wobbling again.

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you whispered.

Rafe’s eyes shot up to yours.

Then — without another word — he stood, pushed you gently back onto the bed, and climbed over you.

The kitten meowed indignantly and trotted off the blanket, leaving you breathless beneath Rafe’s weight, the scent of smoke and mint gum clinging to his hoodie.

His hands found your waist. Your thighs. Sliding under your robe to touch bare skin.

“I always want you,” he said lowly, voice thick. “Even when I’m mad. Even when you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

You bit your lip, heart racing, legs falling open just a little.

“You forgive me?”

He kissed your cheek. Your jaw. The tip of your nose.

“Nothing to forgive.”

His hand slid between your legs, slow, possessive. You gasped softly, fingers curling into his sweatshirt.

“Now stop crying, baby,” he whispered against your skin, “and let me remind you whose dumb little girl you are.”

[honeyscara]

❝ Teasing ❞ – Geum Seongje

-weak hero

Synopsis: You send your boyfriend an 'innocent' picture just to tease him

Content/content warnings: Explicit content, 18+ MDNI! Seongje × fem!reader, seongje being dominant, dirty talk, overstimulation, light restraint, strong language, soft aftercare.

~4k words Whc masterlist

Seongje sat straight-backed in the bowling room, the fluorescent lights above casting a cold glare on the polished table. His sharp eyes remained fixed on the flow of conversation, the words bouncing back and forth between Baekjin and some other union guys.

Then his phone buzzed.

Just once—short, deliberate. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But to Seongje, it was immediate. His fingers twitched subtly, reaching under the table to check the notification. One glance at the screen and his composure cracked, if only for a second.

It was from you.

He tapped it open.

A photo. A very familiar shirt. His shirt. The crisp white of his school uniform, oversized on you, buttoned only halfway. And nothing else in sight.

His breath caught in his throat.

The image was innocent enough—if someone didn’t know what they were looking at. But he knew. That was his uniform. That was his room. And that smug little smirk you wore in the photo? Fuck. you were doing this on purpose.

His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the phone. You were messing with him. While he was in the middle of an important meeting with Baekjin of all people.

“Seongje?”

He blinked. Baekjin had stopped talking, his eyes narrowing slightly at Seongje’s sudden silence.

“I—” Seongje stood abruptly, sliding the chair back. “i need to take this”

He didn’t wait for a reply.

The moment he was out the door, he was already calling you, the phone pressed tight to his ear, his free hand raking through his hair as he stalked down the hallway.

The line clicked. “You think you’re fucking funny?” he muttered, voice low and dangerous.

Your laugh spilled through the line, light and sweet with a devilish edge. Seongje pressed his lips into a thin line, already feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck. He ducked into a quiet stairwell, leaning against the concrete wall, one hand braced against it as if the cool surface could ground him.

“You're not even wearing anything underneath, are you?” he asked, voice rough now, lower, darker. The image of you in his shirt—bare, a few undone buttons, that smirk—burned into his mind.

You sighed dramatically through the speaker. “Mmm… maybe just your cologne,” you murmured. “Smells like you. Feels like you too. Kinda wish it was you though…”

His grip on the phone tightened.

“Y/N,” he warned, but his voice betrayed him—already thick with need.

“What?” you purred. “You’re the one who left me all alone… I got bored. Thought I’d remind you what you’re missing.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, lips twitching into a smirk. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“Am I?” you whispered, sultry and sweet. “If you were here… what would you do, Seongje?”

He tilted his head back against the wall, jaw clenched. There was a long pause. You could hear the way he breathed—deep, heavy, trying to keep control.

His reply came slow, deliberate. “I’d make sure you couldn’t walk by the time I’m done.”

Your breath hitched, and he heard it—grinned at it.

“I’d pin you right against the bed wearing only that damn shirt,” he went on, voice now a smooth growl.

“And I wouldn’t even take it off. Just push it up, make you beg for more, make you say my name until your throat’s sore.”

You were silent now, biting your lip. The tension was electric even through the phone.Then Seongje chuckled—low, cocky.

“What? Quiet now? Thought you wanted to play.”

Your voice came out breathless, almost a whimper. “Seongje…”

He ran a hand through his hair again, composing himself just enough to speak clearly. “Just wait till I get back. Stay in that damn shirt and don't touch yourself,” he added firmly. “That’s mine to take care of.”

And before you could respond, the line cut—he’d hung up.

But not before whispering one last promise:

“Hope you can still talk by the time I’m done.”

.

.

.

Your heart had been racing since he hung up.

You did what he told you—stayed in his shirt, bare and mind spinning. The silence after the call was deafening, filled only by the distant ticking of the clock and the heavy thump of your pulse in your ears. Every second that passed just built up the tension, the anticipation.

Then came the knock. Sharp. Urgent.

Before you could fully process it, you were already moving, bare feet against the floor, hand trembling slightly as you reached for the door. You opened it—

And then you couldn’t even breathe.

Because Seongje didn’t say a word.

He didn’t smirk.

Didn’t greet you.

He grabbed you.

One arm snaked around your waist and shoved you inside as his other hand slammed the door shut behind him. The next thing you knew, your back hit the wall with a dull thud and your breath caught in your throat. His mouth was right there—hovering, dangerous, lips parted just slightly as his eyes scanned you, slow and hungry.

“You’re so fucking bold, huh?” he breathed out, voice low and rasped with restraint. “Wearing my shirt, sending me that shit during a meeting?” He laughed, but it wasn’t amused—it was dark, crazy, hungry.

His hands slid under the hem of the shirt, fingers grazing your bare skin. “You think I wouldn’t lose my fucking mind the second I saw that? You wanted me like this, didn’t you?”

You barely managed a word before his lips ghosted over yours—close enough to feel, not close enough to satisfy.

He smirked, tilting his head. “You gonna answer me, or you already too dumb to think?”

One of his legs slid between yours, pressing in just enough to make you shift, and his grip on your waist tightened.

“I rushed here,” he muttered, eyes dropping to your lips. “Didn’t even end the meeting with Baekjin. Just got up and left like a fucking maniac.”

Then, a pause—his eyes flicked back up to yours.

“Now you’re gonna pay for it.”

And with that, Seongje crashed his lips into yours like a wave breaking against a cliff—unrelenting, wild, needy. There was no softness in the way he kissed you, just raw heat and the taste of revenge for the hell you’d put him through. His hands gripped your hips with bruising force, pulling you flush against him like he couldn’t stand a single inch of space between your bodies.

You gasped into his mouth, and he took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding past your lips with a growl low in his throat. He tasted like mint and something darker—bitten-back frustration, lust sharpened into chaos. The wall was cold at your back, but Seongje’s body was burning.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered against your lips, breathless as he kissed down the side of your jaw, his voice ragged. “Do you know what you did to me?”

You whimpered when his teeth grazed your neck, and he chuckled—completely unhinged and loving it.

“You remember what I said on the phone?”

You nodded, breath shaky. “Y-Yeah.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, voice dark and dangerous.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m about to do every single fucking thing I promised.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you again—his grin crooked, pupils blown wide, hair falling into his eyes.

“And baby, I hope you’ve got all night.”

Before you could even catch your breath, Seongje grabbed you by the back of the thighs and lifted you with ease. You yelped, arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders as he carried you through the hallway like you weighed nothing, his mouth still attacking your neck with feverish kisses and the occasional bite that made your toes curl.

“You’re mine tonight,” he growled into your skin, lips dragging hot along your collarbone. “Mine to ruin, mine to fuck senseless, mine to hear screaming my name.”

He kicked the bedroom door open with his foot and didn’t slow down. The second your back hit the mattress, he was on you—hovering over you with that look in his eyes. That manic, beautiful kind of obsession that made your stomach twist and your thighs clench.

His hands yanked the shirt open, buttons popping and scattering across the sheets as he groaned at the sight underneath. “Fuck… just like that, baby. Just like I imagined.”

He didn’t give you a second to speak before pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, the other sliding down your body like he owned every inch of it.

“Remember what I said?” he rasped, lips ghosting over your jaw as his knee nudged your thighs apart. “How I’d pin you down, leave this shirt on, and make you beg?”

You nodded, chest heaving, lips parted in anticipation.

Seongje smirked—feral, cocky, dripping with heat. “Good. Then shut up and take it.”

And then he kissed you again—hard—as his body sank down against yours.

He didn’t waste time.

With your wrists still pinned above your head, Seongje leaned down and dragged his tongue slowly along the side of your neck, letting out a low, guttural groan that vibrated against your skin.

“Look at you,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “Already squirming and I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

His free hand slid between your legs, palm pressing against the heat there through barely-there fabric. You bucked your hips up instinctively, but he just pressed harder—teasing.

“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue. “You don’t get to be impatient. You started this, baby. You don’t get to rush now.”

He kissed down your chest, nipping and licking as he went, only pulling away to rip the last remaining layer from your body like it offended him. His shirt hung open on your body, collar half-off your shoulder as you writhed beneath him, and he looked up at you with a crooked grin and wild eyes.

“God, you look so fucking good like this,” he muttered, sliding two fingers along your folds. “So wet for me already—were you touching yourself before I got here?”

Your breath hitched, and that was answer enough.

He laughed—deep and amused, but dark. “You’re unbelievable,” he growled,

Then his fingers sank into you—slow but deep, and you gasped, hips lifting off the bed, only for his palm to slam down on your thigh to hold you still.

“Stay the fuck down,” he snarled, pace quickening. “I said I’d make you beg, didn’t I?”

He curled his fingers just right, brushing that spot inside you that made your vision blur, and you cried out his name.

Seongje leaned down, licking over your bottom lip before biting it. “That’s it. Moan louder. Let the whole damn neighborhood know who’s making you feel this good.”

His fingers picked up a brutal rhythm, and you were already close—your body shaking, nerves on fire, your moans getting desperate.

But just when you were about to fall apart, he pulled away.

“Wha—Seongje!”

He smirked, licking his fingers slow. “Tasted too good to let you cum that easy, babe.”

Your body was trembling—slick, sensitive, and on the edge of unraveling. Every nerve screamed for release, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you looked up at him, eyes glassy with need.

But Seongje just watched you for a second—his head tilted, lips parted slightly, pupils blown so wide you could barely see the brown in his eyes anymore. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, the veins in his forearms flexing as he braced himself above you, hand still glistening from your arousal.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and ruined, almost awed. “Completely wrecked and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

He leaned in, dragging his fingers up your thigh—slow, deliberate, possessive. “You feel that?” he asked, letting two fingers press lightly against your core again, not pushing in this time, just resting there to tease. “All this wet, this mess… this is mine.”

You whimpered, hips twitching, eyes begging for more.

That crooked, cocky smirk returned to his face—half dangerous, half starving. He leaned closer, his nose brushing yours.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice like silk over steel. “Because I’m about to ruin you.”

Then, finally, he sat up just enough to reach down—and with slow, sharp precision, undid his belt. The leather unbuckled with a soft snap, followed by the low clink of metal that made your breath hitch. His eyes never left yours as he slid the belt out of its loops, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thud.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the second you sent that photo,” he muttered, his tone dark and husky. “And now that I’ve got you right where I want you…”

His fingers trailed down your chest again, this time with intent.

“Now I’m gonna fuck you like I promised”

He shoved his pants down just far enough to free himself, thick and already rock hard, veins prominent, tip flushed and glistening. The sight alone made your thighs tremble—and Seongje noticed.

“Shit, you’re shaking already?” he huffed out a laugh, gripping himself at the base and giving a slow, teasing stroke while watching your every twitch. “Poor baby. You gonna cry when I stretch you out?”

Your breath caught, and he grinned like the devil.

He settled between your legs, grabbing your thighs and dragging you down the bed until your hips were at the edge of the mattress. “Keep those eyes on me,” he growled, lining himself up. “I wanna see your face when I slide into this perfect pussy.”

And then—fuck—he pushed in.

He didn’t go slow. No warning. No mercy.

You gasped—back arching, mouth falling open—as he bottomed out in one deep, possessive thrust that stole every thought from your head.

“Shit,” Seongje groaned, voice cracking with restraint. “You’re so fucking tight—gripping me like you missed this.”

He gave you no time to adjust. He pulled back and snapped his hips forward again, setting a brutal rhythm that made the bed frame slam into the wall and your moans turn to choked cries.

One hand grabbed your throat—not squeezing, just resting there, claiming—and the other pressed down on your hip, pinning you in place as he fucked into you like a man possessed.

“This what you wanted, huh?” he growled between ragged breaths. “You wear my shirt, send me that filthy little pic while I’m in a fucking meeting, knowing damn well I’d lose my mind?”

His hips slammed into yours harder.

“You wanted this,” he hissed, leaning down, sweat-slicked skin against yours. “Wanted me out of my mind, fucking you into the mattress like an animal.”

You couldn’t even answer—just desperate moans and breathless nods as he ruined you in the best way possible. Seongje kissed you again—biting your lip this time, tongue sliding hot and needy into your mouth as he fucked you through every word he promised on that call.

“I told you,” he whispered against your lips. “You were gonna regret teasing me.”

Then he slammed into you again, and again—and you knew…You were going to feel this for days.

"Fuck– seongje.."

You were already falling apart—legs shaking, throat hoarse from moaning his name like a prayer, your nails digging into the sheets for any kind of grounding. But Seongje wasn’t even close to done.

He could feel your walls fluttering around him, could see the way your eyes were rolling back just before you came—and he loved it.

“Fuck—there it is,” he hissed, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Cum for me. Right now.”

And you did.

Your body arched violently, pleasure crashing through you in waves, pulse pounding in your ears, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity of it all.

But Seongje didn’t stop.

“Ah—wait—!” you gasped, trembling beneath him, overstimulated and still twitching.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” he growled, voice rough and wrecked as he kept thrusting into your oversensitive core. “You’re not done. I said I was gonna ruin you, remember?”

He was relentless—slamming into you at a punishing pace, watching your face twist in pleasure-laced agony. Your hands scrambled for his arms, anything to slow him down, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head again.

“Take it,” he snarled, sweat dripping from his temple as he leaned in.

You were babbling now—words lost, cries spilling from your throat as the overstimulation pushed you past the edge again, this orgasm hitting harder, shaking your entire body.

“Fucking hell,” Seongje gasped, eyes dark, wild, obsessed. “You’re still clenching—shit, you like this, don’t you? Getting fucked dumb—my perfect little mess.”

You didn’t know how you had anything left to give. Your body felt like it had been set on fire and then thrown into bliss—shaking, overstimulated, soaked. But when Seongje leaned over you again, sweat-damp hair falling into his eyes, lips brushing against your jaw, you couldn’t help the way your hips lifted for him again.

“Good fucking girl,” he breathed, kissing the side of your face, still grinding into you—slower now, but deeper, cruel in how perfectly he hit that spot that made you cry out. “Still moving for me. You’re so damn pretty when you break.”

Your hands fumbled up his back, weak and twitching, fingers digging into his slick skin. “Seongje—s’too much—gonna—”

“One more,” he panted against your lips. “Just one more, baby. C’mon. Let me feel you fall apart one more time.”

And when he snaked a hand down between your bodies to rub your overstimulated clit—fast, precise, unforgiving—you screamed.

It hit hard, too hard—your thighs clamped around him, your body arching off the mattress like you’d been shocked, and your voice cracked into a sob as you came with a force that made everything go white.

Seongje cursed under his breath—“Fuck, fuck, that’s it—” and with one last, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you and came hard, groaning your name like it was the only thing keeping him together.

He stayed there for a moment—both of you breathless, tangled, and shaking—before he finally moved.

“Shit,” he murmured, brushing sweaty strands of hair from your forehead. His tone had changed now—lower, softer, laced with something achingly tender. “You okay, baby?”

You could barely nod, your voice gone, lips parted in a dazed smile.

Seongje pulled out slowly—whispering apologies as you whimpered at the sensitivity—and then reached down, gently wiping between your legs with the shirt he’d thrown off earlier. He kissed your thighs afterward like they were sacred, then crawled up beside you, arms wrapping around your spent body.

“Damn… look at you,” he whispered into your hair, pulling the blanket over both of you. “You’re everything”

His lips pressed against your forehead.

“I got you. Always.”

And he held you close, fingers tracing soft circles into your back as your heartbeat slowed, the world quieting into warmth and safety in his arms.

You didn’t know how long you lay there wrapped in him—your cheek pressed to his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, his fingers lazily combing through your hair. You’d melted into him completely, your body boneless and buzzing in the aftermath.

“You still breathing, princess?” Seongje murmured with a soft laugh, brushing a kiss to your temple.

You made a noise that was somewhere between a hum and a whimper.

“Didn’t mean to wreck you that bad,” he teased, shifting slightly so he could look down at you. “Actually… nah. I did. You looked so fucking good begging under me, baby.”

He grinned as you weakly smacked his chest, then caught your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Alright, alright. You earned it. Stay right here.”

Before you could argue, he was already sliding out of bed, grabbing a pair of joggers and padding out of the room—muttering something about "taking care of his girl."

Ten minutes later, he came back with a tray: cold water, your favorite snack, a warm damp towel, and the softest oversized hoodie he owned.

He placed the tray carefully beside you, then sat on the bed and opened his arms. “C’mere, baby.”

You let him pull you into his lap, hoodie first, then a kiss on your cheek, then he fed you a bite of the snack with a satisfied smile like he’d just scored a victory.

“You looked so pretty in my shirt earlier,” he said between sips of water he handed you. “But this look?” He ran a hand down your bare thigh, where it peeked out from under his hoodie. “Post-sex glow, legs shaking, wearing my clothes—fuck, I’m obsessed with you.”

You laughed tiredly, cheeks burning. “You’re ridiculous.”

Seongje grinned. “Only for you.”

He nuzzled into your neck, breathing you in, arms wrapped tight around you as he whispered, “No one else gets this. No one else gets you. I’m gonna take care of you so well, baby. Always.”

And he meant it.

Because to Seongje, spoiling you wasn’t just about snacks or kisses—it was about worshipping you in every way. Even if that meant holding you for hours, stroking your hair until you fell asleep against his chest, protected and loved, exactly where you belonged.

[caitlinsnicket]

sevika relationship headcanons

warnings: smut by the end, that's probably it

a/n: i sure hope this doesn't awaken anything in me

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

She would never tell you this—not in a million years—but something stirs inside her chest whenever she manages to tower over you in any way.

You might be resting against a wall, and she comes by your side to say something, her arm staying just a few inches above your head (and you pretend it doesn’t do something to you deep down). When she realizes how close you are, it’s like a punch to her gut, and she quickly makes some excuse to leave before you notice her dilated pupils.

After the two of you get together, she loves to tease you and make sure you’re aware of the difference between the two of you (pervert). If you ask her about it, she’ll just say she likes how strong it makes her feel. But it’s not just that: it’s how much cleavage she gets to see, how much of your scent she gets to breathe in, and how easy it would be to just throw you over her shoulder and carry you off wherever she pleases.

She won’t ask you outright, but she always pats her lap to invite you to sit on it—whether it’s during one of her games, at a party, or during a meeting to organize something. She wants to have her hands on you at all times, making sure you’re content and pretty.

There are also the quiet moments, when it’s just the two of you and nothing bad is going on. She’ll climb up until she’s almost on Piltover, your hand in hers. She’ll sit down against a pillar, pull you to her until you’re sitting between her knees, her chin resting on the top of your head, lighting up a joint if she feels like it.

She can feel your heart beating against her chest, nothing else happening, and she wonders if this is something she can actually do—something she can actually deserve. But the lights are shining, children are playing and laughing, and you’re almost purring in her arms, so it’s okay.

Even after she’s used to the relationship, she gets flustered when you hold her by her waist, run your hands over it, or simply rest them there. It’s not just the promise of further touches (God knows she loves those), but also the possessiveness she sees in your eyes. It’s different from what she’s used to—not just being needed, but also wanted.

She loves to watch you fuck yourself on her strap, smoking a joint with her mech arm while her other hand plays with your ass.

She’s an active participant as well, but there’s something so thrilling about your desperation and your need for her.

When she eats you out, she always goes overboard, and you end up pulling her hair really hard. She stops what she’s doing and glares at you before telling you to go harder, then dives right back in.

She likes to pull your lips apart just to watch you clench around nothing.

She loses it when you wear those short, skintight skirts that barely cover your ass in public, your eyes making it clear that whatever you’re doing, it’s on purpose.

She sits you down on the stool in front of her, spreads your legs, and fingers you right then and there until you’re clutching her arm for dear life, trying to suppress your moans.

She licks her hand clean before taking you home.

[gingybimby]

Collateral Damage of Dragons

Synopsis: Sylus is still a dragon, but keeps tight control on his form. It's only when you lose all inhibitions while ovulating that he matches your energy.

Notes/Warnings: explicit shameless nsfw (MDNI), sylus x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, they're feral and break things, breeding, established relationship, you know he's not human but not much else, explicit consent and safe word established, predator/prey tones

This took too long to write. Barely proofread. Might cross-post to AO3 later. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYLUS- I've been saving for the birthday memory.

wc: 3.1k

Tag List: @browneyedgirl22 @cherryredstarz

You were possessed. At least, that’s what it felt like rushing into the N109 Zone on your bike, the heavy vibrations making the ache between your legs unbearable. You’d only gotten off work just before racing over into lawless land because you couldn’t bother to wait. It was bad enough Xavier had been hovering, like he could tell your panties were soaked even after spending forty-five minutes wrapping up some paperwork from some wanderer encounters. You adored your sleepy coworker, but there was only one man on your mind all day making you ache.

Driving right into the underground garage where Sylus liked to keep all his various motorcycles was second nature to you these days ever since you and Sylus became rather serious about your relationship. You still liked to dance around each other in your methods of sharing indirect affection, but the dance held an electric zeal to it now. It was a good thing you both liked a little danger.

When you slipped into the base, you were on a hunt. Luckily, the twins seemed to be absent. It saved everyone from some awkwardness and trouble. Your boyfriend was proving to be rather elusive. He wasn’t in the boxing ring, his favorite music room, his bedroom, or the main armory. You made it back to the large common room that had an open kitchen and island with a quiet huff when finally a presence appeared at your back.

Your neck was brushed with a strong nose and curious lips that sent fire right to your aching pussy. Large, strong hands settled on your hips as the deep voice of Sylus practically purred into your ear after tugging your earlobe between his teeth momentarily.

“Looks like a little kitten brought herself to me in heat.” 

You spun on Sylus, pointing an accusatory finger in his face until he tried to bite it. Your glare was fueled with playful annoyance.

“You-! You know exactly what time of the month it is and you were deliberately hiding from me.” You accused even as your boyfriend dragged you closer to press your bodies together.

“Hm.. guilty as charged. Fuck I could smell you the moment you walked in, kitten.” Sylus buried his face in your neck once more to breathe in deeply like he needed your scent to survive. A soft growl reverberated in his throat.

You couldn’t stop the shiver that licked up your spine, leaning your head to the side for him. It was the faintest whimper from your lips that had him lightly biting into your neck, his grip tightening for a fraction of a second before relaxing in what you knew to be an exercise of restraint. That simply wouldn’t do. 

Ever since you learned Sylus wasn’t exactly… human, you’ve been wanting to see more of that wild part of him that he always kept careful control over. You learned quickly that your scent drives him crazy, so you intentionally didn’t put any artificial smells on your skin today.

Oh you knew exactly what you were doing. You intentionally denied yourself the littlest pleasure as the peak of your ovulation hit just so you could truly let loose with Sylus. You even already put in for tomorrow off. It was all for this. You wondered if he suspected anything.

Planting a firm hand on his chest, you pushed Sylus away with blushing cheeks, knowing your panties were ruined and that he could smell that. It was such an unexpected turn on. Sylus didn’t look at all upset at being pushed away save for the tiniest frown as his eyes danced over your face.

“Down boy…” You laughed lightly. “You go sit over there for thirty seconds. I get to have a head start since you decided to hide from me. You better not hold back. I have my safeword: Pomegranate.” 

You swore you saw Sylus’s dilate more than they ever have before at your quiet words. It was so embarrassing at first, having open and honest conversations over something like sex, but Sylus always stressed the importance of it and now it made things like what you were about to do utterly thrilling knowing you’re safe with him. 

You’ve never seen Sylus drop onto a couch so quickly, his eyes burning holes into you. The red gaze never once left your direction and followed you as you neared the doorway to the hallway. You looked over your shoulder at him, kicking off your boots one by one.

“Start counting… Now!” With a final shout you broke into a sprint, heart already racing and giggles flying from you without your say.

During your run, you started discarding things. First it was your holsters for your pistols. Then your socks. Your pants and shirt took the longest, but as you let your ruined panties hit the bare floor, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and quickly ran off again, now only left in your bra.

You slid into the long hallway that would eventually lead to his bedroom and felt that sensation again- that you were being watched by a predator. You didn’t even make it halfway down the hall before a heavy mass was shoving you into a wall chest first. A hand landed above your head and there your dark red panties were twisted in his grip. A long drag of Sylus’s tongue up the back of your neck and the rough pressing of his hips into your ass had you gasping out his name, reaching back with one arm to bury your hand in his silver hair.

“I caught you.” Came his low growl.

An irreverent hand slipped between your legs to drag through your dripping folds. He pauses to circle two fingers into your swollen clit for several moments. Pressing yourself back against his cock, you didn’t hold back your noises as he drew them from you.

“My pretty girl… so ready for me… You put so much effort into trying to drive me wild, huh? You want me to breed your pretty pussy so badly, kitten?”

The filth that came from his lips was just what you wanted as you forced him back a step with a harsh elbow, caught by his hand wrapped in your panties of course. Spinning, you dragged him up against you by the waistband of his pants.

“Why are these still on?” You grumbled before his lips crashed into yours in a wild flurry of kisses that was an obscene connection of tongue, lips, and panting breaths.

You only have a brief second to latch onto his shoulders as he drags your legs up around his waist. He only walks you both a small distance before he settles you on a table just meant to display some of his “shiny things” as you call them. Items of exorbitant value that he likes because of one reason or another. You try to be careful to not knock anything over, almost mentioning it to him to be careful, but he was kneeling between your legs.

You were given no warning as his lips closed over your clit for him to suck on and felt two fingers spread your folds to expose your aching hole clenching around nothing. Sylus groaned into your heat, pulling back only briefly to drown you in praise.

“You taste so good- I can’t get enough.” 

You felt the cold tingling sensation of his evol as it wrapped around one of your calves to drag it over his shoulder as he buried his face into you once more. He slipped two fingers into you instead of starting with one like he usually did and it sent your back arching and snapping a hand down to his hair.

“Fuck!” You whined out, feeling his fingers slowly thrust into you at an easy pace. It was when he pulled lightly on your clit with his teeth and teased his tongue along the hood of your clit that made your arm snap out across the table. You were desperate for something to hold onto, but instead you sent a gorgeous piece of kintsugi flying to the ground, shattering immediately on impact. 

The sharp sound made you jump, apologies starting to tumble off your kiss-swollen lips, but Sylus didn’t so much as shift from his position of worship between your legs. He only curled his fingers up to rub that delectable spongy spot in you that made you see stars and felt his grin when you sobbed out his name. It was right there, that delicious edge promising a most wondrous fall that had you bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Sylus! Please! S-so close. Wanna cum…” You cried.

Part of you knew he was going to pull away, but it still didn’t stop your despairing gasps that melted into frustrated growling and huffs. 

Sylus rising from between your legs was a sight you’ll never tire of as his tongue worked over his fingers to collect every drop of your essence. Your slick covered the lower half of his face and that only made the denial of your orgasm all the more painful. The way he was watching you, you knew he was giving you a moment to put a stop to things if you truly wanted. Shaking your head, you sat up just so you could tear open his buttoned shirt. You glared at him when he only gave you an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

“Such a hissy kitten… You should know by now that you’re not allowed to cum tonight unless my cock is buried in you and filling you with my seed.”

Your glare became more of a pout at his purred words, a fresh wave of need hitting you like a freight train. Gods you wanted that so badly. You needed that.

“Then stop talking and take me to bed, or do you not want me to have your baby.” As you spoke you wrapped your legs around him to pull his hips into you and felt his throbbing bulge get soaked with your dripping need.

Sylus’s groan made your toes curl before he was sweeping you up in his arms and stumbling towards his room even as you desperately ground your pussy against his confined cock. His fingers sinking into the flesh of your ass almost felt sharp when he finally kicked his bedroom door in. He was too focused on biting bruises into your neck to even spare a moment of his attention to the fact that he kicked his poor door hard enough to break off one of the hinges.

When Sylus finally threw you down onto his bed you looked up at him with a cheeky smile, rolling over onto your stomach and raising your hips with a little wiggle. It earned you a hard slap as Sylus spanked you while getting rid of what remained of his shirt and his soiled pants. You let out a sharp yelp that eased into a whiny moan as heat radiated from where his palm landed on your ass.

The coolness of his evol was on your skin again as your bra was tugged free and a pillow being moved to support your hips. Then it concentrated on your wrists as your arms were pulled taut in front of you, pinned.

“Is this okay, kitten?” Sylus’s voice was a comforting roughness that always left you putty in his hands. You started to nod before verbally responding instead.

“H..haah… yes. I need you inside, Sy… I need it so badly.” 

You wanted to push back into him when you felt his cock throb against you. You were still so high strung from your denied orgasm, the cusp just lingering beyond your reach. Couple that with how horny you’ve been practically all week, having waited for this day in particular, you were at your wits end.

While discussion of kids has floated around, you two haven’t tried to exactly plan for any of it. If it happens, it happens was the mentality you both were okay with, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try to tip the odds in your favor. It most certainly wasn’t because one of your coworkers on maternity recently stopped by with her new baby and something gripped at you so desperately you’ve been thinking about it non-stop since.

“Don’t worry Sweetie, I’ll take care of you.” Sylus’s words were an oath and you knew he’d deliver.

One of his hands massaged the cheek he slapped moments ago while his other guided him to your dripping heat only for him to sink in right to the hilt immediately. Normally it took a little time for you to relax properly. His breathless laughter was at your neck as he leaned over you, brushing your hair away so he could trail kisses along your spine.

“You really weren’t kidding… you’ve never taken me so eagerly before, baby.”

You sobbed out in utter bliss as his cock filled out every inch of you just as you’ve been needing, but even this felt like it needed more and he was already huge to begin with! His little bits of teasing didn’t even get a real response from you beyond you trying to bounce yourself against his hips.

Sylus didn’t need to be told twice to get moving, working both of you up to a brutal pace that had your entire being singing with pleasure. His cock hit you in all the right ways, reaching deep enough to tease your empty womb. Your evol-bound hands twisted into the bedding as each noise was forced from your lungs.

“More… Feels so good Sy… Want more…” You babbled, unable to see the slight emergence of black scales along his skin.

He’s never had a lapse of control over his form since long before he even jumped to this time from the Deepspace tunnel, but you right now- the way you cried for him, the scent of your fertile womb at its peak, knowing you’ve been struck by a wave of baby fever from a coworker… It made this beastly side of him rear its ugly head. The need to pin you down with his teeth and tail, to claim you as his mate properly with a vicious bite, to fill you completely and knot you to make sure his seed catches. Oh, you ruined him in all the best ways.

He knew his teeth were already sharper with how his jaw ached to clamp down on your neck and uncontrollable drool pooled in his mouth. His nails wanted to become familiar claws, but he refused to lose the sensation of feeling your skin with the sensitivity fingers offered. Your pleading for more was going to be his undoing. He could already feel a knot forming at the base of his cock and from the way you suddenly bit into the bedding with a sob, the rest of it changed too. Firm ridges and all.

“Oh gods… yessss! Sylus!” You were so lost in your pleasure you hardly paid attention to the differences other than it felt so good. Feeling drool hit your shoulder, you instinctively dropped your head the opposite way.

“Bite me.” You commanded between tearful mewls. “I’m so close-”

The noise Sylus made definitely sounded more beastial than man, but where he worried you might get scared, you just cried his name again, begging him to cum in you as you hit your peak. Sylus was growling when he slammed his hips into you, bullying his knot into your tight hole just as he clamped his teeth down on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You were crying, overwhelmed completely between the pain and pleasure. The way he rolled his hips with every steady pulse as he filled you dragged you through the remnants of your orgasm. Something deep inside you was immensely satisfied, feeling so full of your lover.

You vaguely heard Sylus swear and your neck ache, but everything was fading out fast with sweet sleep dragged you under with a siren’s song.

“Love you… Sylus…” You mumbled before drifting off fully.

—

When you woke up your entire body was sore, but your pussy ached the most. You could smell Sylus on your pillow and hummed in contentment while stretching out as a lazy cat would. You nearly drifted back to sleep when tender fingers brushed your hair from your face and a low voice called your name.

You blearily pried one eye open, barely peeking out from your blanket you had pulled up right under your chin. Red eyes filled your vision and a tender hand crept past your blanket defenses to cup your chin.

“Hey Sweetie… Are you alright?” Sylus looked so concerned, his hair a wild mess as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly.

“Mhm… It was amazing.” You started to push the blankets down to reach out for him when you realized he already had you in a fresh set of one of your favorite jammies. 

“Why aren’t you cuddling me?” You pouted.

“You, my dearest, are a menace.” He drawled out slowly, a visible relief melting into his body and eyes before he dragged a hand through his hair. You narrowed your eyes slightly.

“Were you worried about me?” You questioned, starting to sit up before he shook his head and crawled into bed with you. He dragged you on top of him like you usually preferred and he started playing with a bit of your hair.

“I lost myself a little.” He admitted quietly, meeting your eyes with genuine remorse. “I hurt you because I wasn’t-” “Did I say pomegranate?” You interrupted him, tilting your head slightly.

“No, but-”

“But nothing. I didn’t say it. I wanted all of you. Even the nonhuman-y bits. Those are starting to become my favorite.” You grinned, cheeks going the slightest bit red as the memories started coming back.

“I trust you. You trust me, right?” You reached to run a finger along his upper lip.

“I do.” He responded without hesitation. “I just… losing any level of control for me is-”

“You don’t have to explain. I know.” Your finger traced up his nose and along his brow. “You’re Sylus. My Sylus. And I’ll always love every part of you- good, bad, and wild.” You sat up slightly on his lap, dancing two fingers up his chest while humming. “And if you ever decide you want me to see all of you, I’ll savor every bit of it. Because it’s you.”

Sylus snatched your hand in his, lacing your fingers together with a quiet laugh, his eyes shining with love and face just the slightest bit red. He dragged your hands close so he could kiss the back of yours.

“I love you.” He breathed your name with reverence along with his declaration of love. It’s hardly the first time you’ve heard him like this, but it still made your heart skip a beat. You snuggled into his chest, letting your hands rest together completely entwined.

“I love you too.”

[iheartmira]

Hiii!!! Can I request like

SMC with an s/o that's an artist? And they show their love by drawing him, but they're too shy to tell him so they do it secretly! So one day, he finds out, and hehehehe fluff

I love fluff

"the curtain rises" - shadow milk x artist!reader

✧︎‬‪‪ ‪‪✧︎‬ ‪‪✧

you never meant for him to find out.

really, you didn’t. it wasn’t like you walked around bragging about the sketches. your room was always locked, your sketchbook tucked neatly beneath a false bottom in your drawer. no one ever went in there. not even him.

but still, a part of you had known it couldn’t stay hidden forever. not when you kept drawing him like that. not when every page of your worn-out journal slowly turned into a shrine of his image. etched in charcoal, smudged in soft ink, sometimes just outlines that you couldn't bear to complete for fear the whole world might see how your fingers trembled when drawing his smile.

not his real one. the sly, barbed grin he wore like a weapon.

no, your shadow milk cookie always had something softer about the eyes. the way you saw him when the performance dimmed. the curtain drawn. when you were sure he wasn’t acting.

but of course, with him… wasn’t it always an act?

so you kept your affection hidden in shadows and strokes. it felt safer that way. art didn’t demand truth. it let you lie in your own quiet, trembling way.

until the day he found it.

you had stepped out, just for a moment. long enough for him to materialize uninvited, as he did. the scent of ink still lingered in the air, papers scattered across your desk like fallen petals.

he stood over them now, a phantom silhouette with mismatched eyes glittering in the gloom. one eye curved in amusement. the other unreadable.

"i must say…" his voice purred, theatrically sweet, "this is quite the dedicated audience i've gathered."

your heart nearly stopped when you walked in and saw him standing there, flipping through page after page like it was a playbill at intermission. your sketchbook was open in his hands, filled with him. always him.

"i-i... that's not-" you couldn’t form a sentence. you wanted to disappear. fade into the walls like his shadows did.

he turned to face you, eyes gleaming under the soft glow of your studio lamp. "oh? is this your little secret, my dear artist?" his voice curled like smoke, teasing and lilting, but lacking its usual venom.

you didn’t respond. just stood there, frozen, cheeks burning, hands curled into trembling fists.

he took a step closer, twirling your pencil between his fingers as if it were a wand. "you've captured me so flatteringly." he winked. "you've drawn me with… tenderness."

the word struck you like a spotlight.

he knew.

your silence was all the confession he needed.

a pause stretched between you, breathless. then, gently, almost too gently for someone like him, he tilted his head, looking down at you.

"were you afraid i wouldn't understand?" his smile dimmed, just slightly. "or that i'd mock you?"

you bit your lip, nodding without meaning to.

another step closer.

then his fingers reached out, brushing against yours. cold, ghostlike. but there.

he leaned in, close enough that his voice curled around your ear like a ribbon of night.

"you are a delicious contradiction, little artist. shy, yet bold enough to sketch me when i wasn't looking."

your breath caught.

"but," he continued, lifting your hand with a strange, reverent care, "since you've so graciously offered your heart… allow me to return the favor."

he bowed, dramatic and elegant, and placed the softest kiss to your knuckles.

"i accept your silent ovation," he murmured, "and offer you a role in the next act… beside me."

your lips parted, a thousand questions blooming at once. but he was already slipping into shadow, his laughter echoing like a curtain call.

"until our next scene, darling."

and just like that, he was gone.

but the pages of your sketchbook still fluttered, stirred by his exit. and in the center, where your last drawing lay, a rare piece in full color, you saw something new.

a flourish of ink that wasn’t yours.

a heart. scrawled in blue and black. at the corner of the page, in his impossible handwriting:

'for my favorite audience.'

✧︎‬‪‪ ‪‪✧︎‬ ‪‪✧

‹𝟹 ‎ ⠀⠀ˑ˚₊ ·⠀interested in requesting? check out my pinned!

© 2025, iheartmira

[mayfieldss]

Thinking about Jason Todd finding out you have a crush on him…

It would make Jason’s day. Honestly that man would be giddy about it, though he’d never outwardly show it. He’d sit around and smile to himself, thinking about all the times you’ve been flustered when he’s near, all the times he caught you looking his way. It would make him more confident, which would in turn make him insufferable.

At least in the sense that he would tease the living hell out of you. Obviously he won’t let on that he knows you have a crush on him. He’d play you like a fiddle, trying to get you to confess.

He’d start small, brushing a hand over your lower back when moving past you. An innocent set of touches that could be excused by the cramped space of the kitchen or wherever it happened.

He’d lean down and whisper in your ear in crowded spaces, brush strands of hair back from your face so he can “get a good look at you.”

And with each little thing, he would watch you grow more bashful, more confused and muddled. He would watch you fan yourself from the corner of his eye as he walked away, and after a few weeks of it, it was Jason who was desperate.

He’d wanted you to tell him how you felt, dammit, he was flirting so hard that he hoped you might just kiss him on the spot, but he underestimated your self control.

He doesn’t know exactly when you caught on to what he was doing, but the day you did was his downfall. Because that was the day you started teasing him back. It didn’t happen like he thought it would, you didn’t give in and admit how you felt. Instead you turned the tables, made it war.

Payback was bitch, Jason now realised, after the second time you brushed up against him in a very important meeting. Or when you leaned over him, while he was having breakfast the previous day, supposedly to grab some salt. You’d placed a hand on his shoulder, the other reaching across for the salt shaker, your neck so close to his mouth that he damn near kissed it.

Surprisingly enough, the final straw was late one night when Jason was headed to bed. You’d stopped him in the hallway feinting to bid him goodnight, before you frowned at him, an innocent kind of expression.

“You’ve got something in your hair.” It sounds like you are telling the truth, but deep down Jason knows this is another play. At this point, he’s so down bad, he doesn’t care.

“Oh yeah?” He runs a hand over his head, in an attempt to wipe the nonexistent thing away, and you just smile at him, something that makes his cheeks heat.

“Here, let me get it.” You step forward, and tilt his head toward you. He’s so tall, you have to stand on your toes to look through his hair, for the absolute nothing that’s there. You pretend to pluck something out, and Jason thinks your tricks are over until you run your fingers over his scalp, and despite the tough guy reputation he’s built for himself, he practically purrs.

And just like that, you’ve won. You’ve got him like putty in your hands, and you laugh. Just a quiet chuckle, but it’s there nonetheless. Something that makes Jason just a little bit feral.

“How long are we gonna keep doing this?” His eyes fall down to lock on yours as you pause your actions, raising an eyebrow.

“Doing what?” You’re playing dumb, making him do all the hard work. He respects it though, considering he started all this, he may as well be the one to finish it.

He brings his hands to your hips, his touch warm even through the fabric over your skin. “This.” He puts emphasis on the word and punctuates it by squeezing your hips. To his delight, it’s you that’s purring now, allowing yourself to find pleasure in his touch.

“As long as it takes.” You answer finally, running your hands through his hair again, your nails trailing gently over the nape of his neck when you’re done.

“As long as it takes until what, exactly?” His voice has lowered, somewhere between a growl and a whisper. And you finally give him the answer he wants. The one he’s been craving since he found out how you felt.

“Until you fucking kiss me, Todd.” You would roll your eyes, but you’re so infatuated with him, with the way his streak of white hair falls effortlessly into his eyes, with the way his gaze is locked on you. And then he does it. He kisses you, after months of tests and teasing. After years of your pining for him.

And it sure is sweet.

-

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! Please tell me your thoughts darlings!!!

JASON TODD TAGLIST: @princessbl0ss0m @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @eternltys

[chrissssssmut]

I really like your stories if I may request.... Um can you please write Step Mom Chaewon x male reader, where Chaewon really after is not his father but y/n

My Stepmom's Secret

Chaewon x Male Reader

The scent of jasmine tea hit your nose before the sound of her voice ever did.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You blinked, a little disoriented by the soft warmth of the sun spilling through the kitchen window, and the far more disorienting warmth of Chaewon, standing barefoot on the cold tile, wearing only a long silk robe that clung to her figure like it had no right to. One hand stirred the tea, the other braced on the marble counter. Her hair was slightly damp, probably from the shower, and your eyes — you couldn’t help it — trailed down the curve of her neck to where the robe tied at her waist.

You cleared your throat. “Hey… uh. Morning.”

Chaewon smiled. The same smile she always gave you — just a little too slow. A little too knowing.

“You always get so quiet around me in the mornings,” she said, walking toward the table. “Still shy, even after all this time?”

“I’m not shy,” you muttered, pretending to scroll through your phone. “Just not a morning person.”

She let out a hum, the sound purring low in her throat as she placed a mug of tea in front of you. Her fingers brushed your hand. Deliberate. Lingering.

You didn’t move. You didn’t look up.

Chaewon did, crouching slightly to meet your eyes. “I like you quiet, actually,” she said, voice low. “Makes it easier to see what you’re really thinking.”

Your heart kicked once, sharp.

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“Oh, you’re definitely thinking something,” she murmured, gaze locked on yours. “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching.”

“I don’t—”

“You stare at my legs when I’m in shorts,” she continued. “You clench your jaw when I wear this robe. You hold your breath when I walk too close.”

“Chaewon—”

“Say it.” Her voice hardened, just slightly. “Say what you’re thinking right now.”

You stared at her, pulse loud in your ears. The room felt hotter, suddenly. Smaller.

“…You’re my stepmom.”

Her lips curled into a smirk. “That’s not what I asked.”

You stood up, too fast, the chair scraping behind you. “I’m not doing this. Where’s Dad?”

She leaned back against the table, crossing her arms — the silk of her robe falling open just enough to hint at the curve of her inner thigh.

“Business trip,” she said simply. “Won’t be back until Monday.”

Your breath hitched. You hated how your brain immediately did the math: that’s six nights.

“You planned this.”

Chaewon tilted her head. “Planned what?”

“This,” you hissed. “You knew he was leaving. You waited until I came home from college for the weekend. You—”

“I’ve always waited for you,” she interrupted. “You think I married him because I loved him? No. I married him because it gave me an excuse to stay close to you.”

Your blood ran cold. Hot. Then cold again.

“I saw you before he even introduced us,” she said, her tone sweet, almost dreamy. “That party, remember? You were standing near the pool, wet hair, a little tipsy. God, you looked like a sin waiting to happen.”

“You’re insane,” you whispered.

She stepped forward. “I’m in love.”

You backed into the counter, the edge pressing against your hips.

“Do you know how hard it was,” she whispered, “to play the role of the doting wife? To sleep next to a man I don’t care about just so I could stay close to you?”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m devoted,” she corrected, pressing one hand to your chest. “Devoted to you. I’ve waited two years, baby. Every little smile you gave me… every time you accidentally brushed against me walking down the hall… every time you said my name. I burned for you.”

You swallowed hard. “This is wrong.”

“Says who?”

Her lips hovered just inches from yours. Her fingers slipped beneath your shirt, slowly dragging her nails down your abdomen. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t say anything.

Because your body was betraying you. Because the truth was, you had stared at her. Wanted her. Dreamed about her in ways that left you guilty and breathless.

And she knew it.

“I knew you’d want me,” she whispered, tracing your waistband. “It’s in your eyes. The way you’re breathing right now.”

“Fuck…”

Her hand slipped inside your shorts, curling around your half-hard cock like she’d done it a thousand times in her head. You shuddered. She leaned in and kissed your neck, soft and slow, her voice purring against your skin.

“Let me show you what two years of obsession looks like.”

You grabbed her wrist, but your grip was weak. Shaky. She didn’t stop — she stroked you, slow and possessive.

“I thought about you when I touched myself,” she confessed. “Every night. Quiet so your dad wouldn’t hear. But it was always you. Only you.”

You gasped, hips twitching.

“I thought about your mouth,” she breathed, dragging her tongue up your neck, “your fingers, your cock… how good it’d feel inside me.”

“Jesus, Chaewon—”

“I’m yours,” she moaned. “Always have been. So take me.”

You pulled her into a kiss, finally breaking. She tasted like tea and sin. Her hands clawed at your shirt, yours tangled in her robe, tearing the silk apart. You pushed her onto the kitchen table, dishes clattering, and she let out a low moan.

“God, I knew you’d be rough,” she gasped as you shoved her panties aside, fingers plunging inside her slick heat. “I dreamed about this. Being laid out for you.”

Your fingers moved fast, deep, curling to hit the spot that made her cry out.

“Louder,” you growled. “Let the neighbors hear what a fucking mess you are.”

Her thighs trembled. She reached up, dragging you closer, biting your lip as she whispered:

“Fill me. Ruin me. Make me yours.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You tore your shorts off and pressed your cock to her entrance, the slick heat of her body welcoming you in inch by inch. She was tight — impossibly so — and her nails dug into your back as you started thrusting.

“You feel so good,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around your waist. “Better than I imagined. You were made for me.”

Your rhythm grew brutal, desperate. The table creaked under you. Her moans echoed through the house.

“You gonna cum in your stepmom?” she whispered, voice broken with pleasure. “Gonna mark me? Claim me?”

“Yes,” you gasped, thrusts erratic. “Fuck—yes.”

Her body seized under you as she came, crying out your name like a prayer.

And then you followed, groaning against her neck, burying yourself deep inside her with one final thrust.

For a moment, everything was silent. Just your heartbeats. The soft tremble in her thighs. The stickiness between your hips.

Then she whispered:

“Now you can’t leave me.”

You blinked.

“You’re mine,” she said, smiling through the afterglow. “I made sure of it. No more running.”

You stared at her.

Chaewon reached up and cupped your face gently.

“I won’t let you go, baby. I didn’t come this far to lose you now.”

And the terrifying part?

You didn’t want her to let go.

You hadn’t been able to think straight for five days.

Ever since that morning in the kitchen, Chaewon hadn’t let you breathe without her hands somewhere on your body — brushing your chest when you passed by, sitting on your lap during dinner, sucking your fingers under the table. The worst part?

You let her.

You wanted her. Always had. And now that you’d tasted her — claimed her — she wasn’t just in your head anymore.

She was in your blood.

“Come back to bed,” she purred, tugging at the hem of your hoodie. Her body was warm against your side, bare under one of your t-shirts, her breath hot against your neck as you stood by the hallway mirror trying to fix your hair.

“Someone’s gonna come to the door soon,” you said, checking your phone. “That thing I ordered’s out for delivery.”

Chaewon pouted, pressing her hips to your back. “Let them knock.”

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “You're seriously insatiable.”

“I’ve waited two years, baby,” she murmured, slipping her hands into your sweatpants. “You don’t get to complain.”

Your breath hitched as she gripped your cock — already semi-hard from the constant teasing. She smiled at the reaction.

“There he is,” she whispered, kneeling in front of you like a devout worshipper. “Missed me, didn’t you?”

You groaned as her mouth wrapped around your tip — soft, warm, wet. Her tongue circled lazily, eyes locked on yours.

“This is so fucked,” you muttered.

Chaewon pulled off just long enough to whisper, “You love it.”

And you did.

You leaned against the wall as she sucked you deep, her throat taking you inch by inch like she’d trained for it. Her hands dug into your thighs, keeping you from moving. From escaping. Not that you’d even try.

Then the doorbell rang.

You both froze.

Chaewon glanced up with wide eyes — but her mouth never left your cock.

“…Chaewon,” you hissed.

She smirked around you and sucked harder, deliberately bobbing her head as you twitched in her mouth. You heard the doorbell again — and then the sound of a truck idling out front.

“Get the door,” she said breathlessly, pulling off with a pop. “Now.”

“I—what—are you serious?!”

She pushed you toward the door, hand still stroking you fast and wet.

“Open it,” she growled. “I want you to see how good you look with your cock in my mouth while someone else stands right there.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

You cracked the door open just a bit — heart pounding — and there he was: the mailman. Young. Bored. Holding a package and glancing down at the label.

“Package for… uh, Y/N?”

You nodded stiffly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Chaewon’s mouth wrapped around you again, hidden just out of sight behind the doorframe. You barely managed to hold your breath.

The mailman squinted. “You okay, dude?”

“Y-Yeah,” you choked out. “Just… allergies.”

Chaewon moaned around your cock. Loud.

You nearly dropped the package.

“Uh… right,” the guy said slowly, handing it over. “Have a good one.”

You slammed the door the second he turned.

“Chaewon—fuck—what the hell is wrong with you?!”

She pulled off, spit connecting her lips to your tip. Her eyes were blown wide with lust.

“You are,” she whispered. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”

And then she swallowed you whole.

You doubled over, hand slamming against the wall. She was ruthless now — bobbing fast, sloppy, desperate. Her eyes welled with tears but she didn’t stop. Didn’t care. She needed this.

“I’m close,” you warned.

She didn’t let up.

You came hard, hips jerking forward as she sucked you dry. She moaned around your release, swallowing it all — eyes fluttering shut like she was tasting something divine.

When you finally pulled back, gasping, she wiped her mouth and licked her lips.

“God, you taste even better when you’re trying not to moan,” she purred.

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” she said sweetly, standing and wrapping her arms around your neck. “I want you every minute of every day. I want your cock in my mouth when you do the dishes. I want to ride you when you’re on your stupid little Zoom calls. I want to jerk you off under the table while we eat dinner with your dad.”

You stiffened. “He’s back tomorrow.”

“I know.”

You swallowed. “You’re not planning to stop.”

She leaned in, brushing your lips with hers.

“I’m planning to ruin you.”

And then she kissed you — slow and deep, her tongue still tasting faintly like you. Her hands wandered south again, never content, always hungry.

“Take me to your room,” she whispered. “And lock the door this time.”

You didn’t think.

You just obeyed.

The front door clicked open around noon.

You were on the couch, pretending to scroll your phone, though you hadn’t read a single word in the last hour. Your skin was still warm from the shower — mostly because Chaewon had joined you halfway through and ridden you against the tile wall like she’d been starving — but your nerves had started to catch up.

And then you heard it:

“Hey! I’m home!”

Your father’s voice.

You stiffened.

Chaewon walked in from the kitchen a second later, already wiping her hands on a towel. She was wearing a soft knit dress, something casual, something subtle — but you knew better now. The neckline was a little too low. The fabric a little too thin. Her smile a little too perfect.

“Welcome back, honey!” she said sweetly, moving to greet him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Did everything go well?”

“Same old, same old,” he said, dropping his bag. “Tired as hell. God, I missed real food.”

You stood up awkwardly. “Hey, Dad.”

He turned, grinning. “There’s my college man!”

He laughed and pulled you into a side hug. You could feel Chaewon watching. Could feel the heat behind her pleasant little smirk as she stood beside the man she married — a man completely oblivious to the fact that you’d been inside her less than twelve hours ago.

Dinner was quiet. Tense, at least for you.

The table was set like any normal Sunday — steak, roasted potatoes, steamed vegetables. Your dad poured wine. Talked about flights and meetings and a coworker who snored in the hotel room next door.

You tried to focus. To nod at the right parts. To laugh when you were supposed to.

But then you felt it.

A hand on your thigh.

You froze.

Chaewon didn’t miss a beat. She cut into her steak, chewed slowly, eyes flicking to yours just for a second — like a dare.

Her hand slid higher.

You glanced at your dad. He was sipping his wine, still mid-sentence about airport security lines.

Her fingers reached your zipper. Undid it.

You shifted in your seat, your fork trembling slightly in your grip.

Chaewon leaned in, casually brushing her shoulder against yours as her hand slipped into your pants. Her fingers curled around your cock, already half-hard from the tension alone.

You clenched your jaw.

“So,” your dad said, smiling at Chaewon. “He’s been behaving while I was gone?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said sweetly, giving your cock a stroke. “He’s been very… obedient.”

You choked on your wine.

Your dad raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

You coughed. “Yeah. Wrong pipe.”

Chaewon’s hand moved slower now — cruel, teasing — stroking you just enough to make it torture. Her thumb grazed your tip. You twitched under the table.

“Dinner’s great,” you managed to say, voice tight.

“I’m glad,” she said, squeezing gently. “I made it just for you.”

You reached for your glass again, desperate for something — anything — to ground yourself. Her hand moved faster. More confident now.

Your father didn’t notice a thing.

“…and then this idiot from procurement tried to expense a whole box of Cuban cigars,” he was saying. “Swore it was for client relations.”

Chaewon’s fingers twisted. You bit your tongue.

Her lips brushed your ear, voice a breathless whisper.

“Be good and I’ll let you cum later. Be bad and I’ll make you beg for it.”

You nearly groaned out loud.

She pulled her hand back just as your dad stood to grab more wine from the fridge. You exhaled like you’d been underwater.

Chaewon leaned over, reaching for the salt — her hand brushing your crotch one last time, like a reward.

“Such a good boy,” she whispered.

You stared at your plate, your appetite gone.

Because the worst part wasn’t the danger. Wasn’t the risk.

It was the fact that you wanted more.

Later that night

The house was still.

You lay in your bed, the sheets kicked off, your breath shallow, your body burning.

You could still feel her hand on you. Still feel the pulse of her voice in your ear. That smug look in her eyes when she cleaned up dinner like a model housewife and kissed your father goodnight with the same mouth that had whispered filth to you under the table.

You heard the bedroom door creak open down the hall.

Footsteps.

Muted.

Your dad’s voice — sleepy.

“Mm… you coming to bed now?”

Chaewon’s voice, soft and sweet. “Just a second, baby. I’ll be right in.”

A pause.

A kiss.

Then the bedroom door closed again.

You waited.

Fifteen seconds. Thirty. A full minute.

Then—

Your door cracked open.

Chaewon stood there in the hallway light, wrapped in a silk robe. Thin, nearly see-through. Her eyes glinted with something wicked.

She stepped in. Closed the door behind her.

You sat up slightly. “Chaewon—”

She pressed a finger to her lips, silencing you.

Then she crawled onto the bed.

Not a word. Not a sound.

She straddled your lap, robe parting just enough to show that there was nothing underneath.

You whispered, “He’s still awake—”

“And I’m still wet,” she whispered back, rolling her hips into yours. “You’ve been making me crazy all day.”

You swallowed hard.

She leaned in and kissed you — slow, hungry, the kind of kiss that made you forget your own name. Her hands pushed your shirt up. You felt her nipples brush your chest, already hard.

“I tucked him in,” she whispered. “Even gave him a little kiss on the forehead. Told him I loved him.”

You shivered.

“And now,” she said, biting your bottom lip, “I’m going to ride his son like a filthy slut.”

You groaned.

She untied the robe slowly, shrugging it off her shoulders like a present just for you. Her body was perfect in the moonlight — soft curves, tight waist, thighs that trembled with anticipation.

She reached between you, guided you to her entrance.

And then sank down with a gasp.

You clutched her hips, trying not to moan. Her walls hugged you, warm and slick, and she arched her back as she took every inch, her head tipping back with a silent cry.

“Fuck…” she breathed. “You feel even better when I know he’s asleep down the hall.”

She began to move.

Slow at first — grinding in little circles — her hands braced on your chest. Her pace built with each bounce, her breath coming faster, skin slapping against yours in faint, wet rhythm.

Your fingers dug into her waist. “Chaewon—”

“Shhh,” she hissed, smirking. “Do you want him to hear me moan your name?”

You bit your tongue, barely holding it together.

Chaewon leaned close again, her lips brushing your ear. “You like this? Knowing I’m his wife, but I’m only yours when the lights go out?”

You nodded, breathless.

She grinned, licking a stripe up your neck. “Good. Because I’m not stopping until you cum so hard it hurts.”

She slammed down harder now, faster, her thighs quivering, her mouth open in breathless pleasure. Her nails scraped your chest. Her voice — barely a whisper — poured filth into your ear like honey:

“Call me mommy again. Go on. Whisper it.”

You choked on your groan. “Mommy…”

“Louder.”

“Mommy—!”

She clenched around you with a gasp, her orgasm hitting fast and fierce. You felt it — her whole body trembling, pussy gripping you like a vice.

And then you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You came inside her, hard, your hips jerking as she rode you through it — milking you dry with each slow grind of her soaked cunt.

When it was done, she collapsed on your chest, both of you panting in the dark.

After a long moment, she giggled.

“Still think I’m just your stepmom?”

You blinked at the ceiling. “You’re a fucking menace.”

She nuzzled into your neck. “And you’re mine.”

Then she kissed you one more time — sweetly this time — and whispered:

“Don’t fall asleep yet. I want a second round in the shower.”

Ten minutes later

The bathroom was filled with steam.

Water ran hot from the showerhead, fogging the mirror, hissing over tile. You leaned against the wall, barely able to stand, body still recovering from the first time she wrecked you.

Chaewon pressed up against your back, her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, her breasts warm against your spine. She kissed a line across your shoulder, hands already moving again — relentless, greedy.

“I wasn’t kidding,” she whispered. “I need more.”

You groaned as she slid one hand down your stomach, fingers wrapping around your cock — already hard again. Her other hand braced against your chest.

“Chaewon…” you panted. “You’re insatiable.”

“Mmhmm,” she purred. “You’ve ruined me. I can’t get enough.”

She began to stroke you — slow and teasing — her lips brushing your neck, her thighs slick against yours. You thrust into her hand, already pulsing.

Then—

A knock.

Both of you froze.

“Hey, bud?” your dad’s voice came through the door, muffled. “You in the shower?”

Your blood turned to ice.

Chaewon’s eyes went wide.

You opened your mouth to respond but she slapped a hand over it.

“Shhh,” she mouthed.

Your heart pounded.

“I—uh—yeah,” you called out, your voice cracking slightly. “Just… just taking a quick one.”

“Alright. Thought I heard something,” your dad said from the hallway. “You good?”

You nodded — stupidly, as if he could see you — and croaked out: “Yeah. Totally fine.”

There was a pause.

Then—

“Okay. Just checking. Night, kid.”

You waited, breath frozen in your lungs, until the footsteps faded.

Then you turned to Chaewon.

“What the fuck was that?!”

She grinned.

And then sank to her knees.

“No one said I had to stop.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

The water poured down over her as she wrapped her lips around you — warm, wet, and sinfully good. Her tongue worked expertly, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to make a sound.

Your back hit the tile wall as you gripped her soaked hair, biting your lip to keep from groaning out loud.

She was relentless. Her mouth slid deeper with each bob of her head, her hand stroking your base, her other hand cupping your balls, rolling them gently.

You hissed. “He’s still awake…”

She popped off for a second. “Then be quiet.”

And just like that, she took you in again — this time deeper, letting you hit the back of her throat. She moaned around you, the vibrations making your knees buckle.

It was torture. Blissful, cruel torture.

And then she pulled off with a wet gasp, stood up, and turned around, pressing her palms to the wall.

She looked over her shoulder.

“Take me. Now. Quietly.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

You grabbed her hips, lined yourself up, and slid inside her soaking core — hot, tight, perfect.

She bit her hand to keep from crying out, her body arching back into yours. You began to move — slow but deep, every thrust making her press her face into her arm to muffle the sounds.

Her walls fluttered around you. She was close again.

So were you.

And right as your climax built, she whispered, “Cum in me. Do it. Fill me up while your dad sleeps two rooms away.”

You didn’t last another second.

You exploded inside her with a muffled groan, your hand over your mouth, hips slamming forward as she clenched around you in ecstasy.

You both collapsed under the stream of water, breathing hard, hearts racing.

She leaned back against you, eyes fluttering shut. “That,” she whispered, “was so fucking hot.”

You stared at her, chest heaving.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

She smirked.

“Only if your dad doesn’t catch us first.”

[botanicsoul]

Rainfall and Ruin

Izuku Midoriya x fem! Reader

this is straight filth

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

You’d been poking the bear all damn day.

Not just for fun—but to finally see what he was hiding.

The thing was…you were dating. You’d been dating for a while now. He kissed you sweetly, held your hand, dry humped you with desperate little whines—but he never went any further. He always stopped himself. Always shook his head, cheeks blazing, voice soft and nervous. He worshipped you, always asked before going any further. And yeah—it was cute.

At first. But now?

Now, it was maddening.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he’d told you once, after a particularly heated makeout that ended with him biting his lip and pulling away. “I don’t… I don’t fully know my own strength. What if I lose control?”panting, cheeks flushed as he grinned against you until both of you were trembling. “I get so… worked up. I don’t know if I could stop.”

God, and you loved him for it. You remembered smiling up at him, brushing sweaty hair from his face. “Then don’t stop.”

you saw the way his hands shook when they rested on your hips. How his jaw clenched when you moaned into a kiss. You knew he wanted to go further. He just wouldn’t let himself. Every time. He never let himself lose control or be rough with you.

You wanted to test him. So today? You wanted to see how far he could be pushed. And damn, he made it too easy.

——

The way he always turned red every time you called him “Zuku.” How his breath hitched when your hand brushed low on his stomach. How his eyes would flicker nervously away when you leaned over to grab your pen, your skirt riding up just enough to make his throat go dry. You’d let out soft moans around him when you’d stretch a little in your seat, just so he could hear. It was like you had him on a string, and each movement you made tugged him closer to the edge.

During your study session later, you decided to take it even further, to really test just how far you could push him without him breaking. The room was nearly empty, the only sound the soft rustle of paper and the scratch of pens. You skipped over to him, a playful smile curling on your lips as you took your seat just a little too close.

“Tell me, Zuku,” you breathed softly against his neck, your lips grazing his skin. You felt him freeze, his body going rigid as your breath tickled his ear. “Do you think about me when you’re alone?” you whispered, “what do you do when you think about me?” your voice soft and teasing.

You could see the way his grip tightened on the textbook, his knuckles turning white as he tried to steady his breath, but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t hide it anymore. You could tell by the way his eyes darted to the side.

You leaned in closer, your body brushing against his as you let your words linger. “I know what you do,” you purred, practically tasting the way he was unraveling under your attention.

You saw his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every breath. It was almost cute, how badly he was trying to hold it together. Almost. But you weren’t done yet.

“Zukuuuu…” You dragged the name out, rolling it on your tongue like it was a secret. “wanna know what I do when I think of you?” You slid your hand down his arm, deliberately slow, and when your fingers brushed the edge of his hand, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kept your palm pressed against his, letting the heat of your touch seep into his skin. “Maybe i’ll have to show you” He was trying to be good. But you were done playing sweet.

So when you asked him to walk you to your dorm after that long study session, all soft smiles and batting lashes, you had every intention of testing that tight grip he kept on himself.

You hooked your arm around his, holding onto him like you needed his warmth, and he let you. Quiet and sweet like always.

But when you got to your door, you turned around, tugged him a little closer, fingers just barely grazing the waistband of his pants.

“Thanks for walking me, Izuku,” you said, voice low and sweet, fingers brushing just below his waistband. You leaned in, your lips grazing his jaw. “You’re always so good to me.”

That’s when you saw it. Not the flustered smile. Not the blush. His eyes.

Dark. Focused. Hungry

You tilted your head, trying one last poke. “Goodnight, Izuku.” You turned toward the door. But before your hand could touch the knob, his slammed into the wood above your head, caging you in.

You gasped, spinning around, heart jumping. His eyes weren’t flustered anymore. They were blazing.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice low—dangerous. “You’ve been teasing me all damn day. And now you’re gonna act like I’m just supposed to walk away?”

Your lips parted, breath catching. “I didn’t mean—”

His hand grabbed your chin, tilting your face up. “You did,” he growled. “You said goodnight like you didn’t spend the whole day trying to see how far you could push me.” He leaned in, his lips brushing your cheek.

“You wanted my attention, baby? You’ve got it.”

Before you could react, his thigh slid between yours, pressing up hard, forcing your legs apart. You gasped and instinctively tried to close them, but he held you there—pinned and squirming. His mouth curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

“Ooooh, there it is,” he whispered. “You like this. You wanted this.”

He leaned close, lips ghosting over your jaw, hot breath sending chills down your spine.

“You’re not nearly as innocent as you pretend to be” You opened your mouth to throw out another cheeky line—but you didn’t get the chance.

His lips crashed into yours, all teeth and tongue, stealing your breath. There was nothing sweet about it. It was greedy, rough—punishing. Like he was tasting every smirk, every teasing laugh you gave him that day.

You moaned, grabbing at his shirt, desperate for more. He didn’t stop.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist. You felt the hardness straining against his pants, pressed perfectly against where you needed it. You whimpered.

He kicked the door open and shoved it shut behind him, never breaking the kiss. Carried you to the bed like you weighed nothing. Then he dropped you onto the mattress and climbed on top of you.

His fingers gripped your hips, hauling you closer, grinding his cock right against your soaked panties through your shorts.

“Feel that?” he rasped, voice dark and gleeful. “I’m hard for you. Have been all damn day.”

You couldn’t even speak—just gasped, clinging to him, your mind spinning from the pressure, the heat, the filthy things he was saying in that shaky, desperate, cocky voice.

“I’ve been so good,” he hissed, voice shaking as his forehead pressed to yours, his breath coming in ragged little pants. “So fucking good for you.”

He ground his hips forward again—harder this time. You cried out, your hands flying up to clutch his shoulders as the thick, heavy heat of him rubbed right against your sweet spot.

His eyes fluttered shut. He bit back a moan.

“Held back every damn time you touched me—every time you climbed in my lap with those pretty eyes, makin’ those little sounds—and I didn’t touch you like I wanted to.”

He dragged his hips against you again, slower this time. Deeper. His voice broke—pleading now.

“Tell me I’ve been good, baby,” he whispered, raw and low, like it was killing him. “Tell me I’ve been good for you.”

You whimpered, nodding, clinging to him like you might fall apart. “You’ve been so good, Zuku—so good, baby—”

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes—now blown wide, wild with want—and smiled.

“I want you to ruin me, Zuku.”

He let out the filthiest, neediest sound you’d ever heard, like your words physically wrecked him.

He thrust forward again, harder this time—enough to make you cry out.

He nuzzled against your neck now, lips brushing your skin, his voice lower—more vulnerable.

“Think you’re ready to take me, baby?” he asked, tilting your chin up again. “’Cause when I get inside you—I’m not stopping.”

You gasped his name, dizzy from the friction, from the way he was everywhere.

His eyes swept over you, dark and unreadable.

“Strip,” he said, calm. Too calm.

You blinked, breathless. Your jaw dropped slightly. But your thighs pressed together. You slowly sat up, pulling your shirt off one shoulder, then paused, lips curled in a challenge.

“If you want me naked so bad,” you purred, “you should do something about it, Zuku.”

His eyes flared. He was on you in a second. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head, then dragged your shorts down your thighs in one rough pull, leaving you in your underwear.

“You’re real brave with your clothes on ya know?,” he muttered, kissing down your stomach, teeth scraping lightly at your hip.

“You really gonna fuck me like you’re mad?” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue dipped below your waistband.

He leaned up, lips brushing your ear.

“No,” he whispered. “I’m gonna fuck you like I’ve been waiting.” god—you were done for.

His mouth was on you—

Hot, wet, perfect. His tongue moved like he was memorizing every part of you—slow drags, then sharp flicks over your clit that had you gasping, fingers digging into his curls.

“Izukuuu—”

“Say my name again like that,” he murmured, eyes flicking up, glazed and desperate. “Say it while you cum on my tongue.”

And you did. Hard. Arching up, thighs trembling around his head, crying out for him as the pressure snapped and pleasure crashed over you like a wave.

But he didn’t stop. Not even close.

He kept licking, slower now, gentle—like he was soothing you through the high. His hand trailed up your body, calloused fingers brushing your ribs, your breast, until he was hovering over you again.

His cock pressed hard and heavy against your thigh through his sweats.

You sat up as he straightened, taking off his shirt. Now seeing his barea chest rising and falling with every ragged breath. His hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed, lips parted.

You reached down slowly, eyes locked on his, fingers curling into the waistband of his pants.

He didn’t stop you. Just watched. Watched with dark, hungry eyes, looking up at him like you were about to worship him.

You pulled his pants down, dragging his boxers with them, and—Your breath hitched.

His cock sprang free, flushed and hard, twitching as the cool air hit him. It bobbed once, landing right in front of your face, heavy and aching. You bit your lip, eyes wide with awe and want.

“Tell me again,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked, full of that ache he’d been holding back for so long. “Tell me I’ve been good. Tell me I deserve to fuck you.” His hand came up—not rough this time—just soft. Gentle. He cradled the back of your head like you were the most fragile thing in the world, fingers threading through your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp. His thumb brushed just behind your ear.

It was so tender it made your heart stutter.

“You’ve been good, Zuku,” you whispered, voice cracking as your hands fisted in the sheets. “So good to me. You waited. You were patient. You didn’t rush anything.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours again, eyes fluttering shut like he needed to feel everything. But then, in a snap, that softness twisted into something hotter. Darker.

He grabbed your neck and shoved you flat onto the bed so fast you barely had time to process it. Your back hit the mattress, breath stolen from your lungs, hands grasping at the sheets as he towered over you.

He let out a low groan, hips twitching forward. “Tell me I can.” his grip around your neck let up for you to breathe.

“You can. I want you inside me. Please, Izuku—I need you.” He finally gave in.

One hand braced on your thigh, the other gripping your waist, he sank into you slow at first—inch by inch, letting you feel every stretch, every bit of him until he bottomed out with a guttural sound.

You cried out, back arching, breath knocked from your lungs.

He snapped his hips forward, hard and deep, and you saw stars.

He was relentless now.

Each thrust slammed into you with dizzying force—deep, punishing, perfect. His grip on your waist had tightened, fingers digging into your skin like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Your moans had turned to cries, hands scrambling to hold onto anything—him, the sheets, your sanity.

His thrusts grew rougher, more desperate—like something inside him had snapped completely, like the leash had finally given way.

The bed slammed into the wall over and over again, the headboard banging so loud you could barely hear yourself moan. Each thrust sent a sharp jolt through the frame, until even the bolts started to rattle loose beneath you.

“Izuku—” you gasped, hands scrambling at the sheets. “You’re gonna break the—”

CRACK.

“Baby I- I can’t stop” he panted, forehead pressed to yours. “I’m not deep enough in you.”

The headboard split with a sharp snap, wood splintering under the force of his grip as he braced himself, hips snapping forward with punishing rhythm.

Your thighs trembled, legs falling open wider just to take him, even as pain bloomed where his hips met yours. You knew you’d be bruised with dark marks between your legs.

“Z-Zuku—!” you gasped, eyes glassy, vision blurred. “Too much—!”

But your legs didn’t close. Your hips didn’t pull away. If anything, they lifted, begging for more.

Because god, it hurt, but it was so good. That line between pleasure and pain blurred until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Your body needed it. Needed him.

“I’m hurting you—” he choked out between thrusts, breath shaking as he slowed just for a second. “I—I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“You’re not,” you moaned, nails raking down his back. “You feel so fucking good, Izuku. Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop—”

His pace returned, rough and needy, but his hand slid to your face, cupping your cheek—tender, even as he wrecked you.

“You’re everything,” he panted, kissing your lips between thrusts. “You’re—fuck—you take me so well.”

Your body trembled, every nerve on fire, tears prickling in your eyes from the intensity, from how much he gave you—how deeply he wanted you.

And when his fingers found your clit and circled once, twice, just right—

You screamed. Your back arched off the mattress, a strangled scream ripped from your throat, and your whole body snapped.

The orgasm hit you like a wave. Blinding. Overwhelming. Your legs locked around him, hips bucking, hands fisting in his hair.

“ZUKU—!”

Your voice broke, trembling as you sobbed through it, clenching around him so hard his rhythm stuttered.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, head dropping to your neck. “You’re—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—!”

He was losing it.

You felt it in the way he started to fall apart—his thrusts erratic, his moans louder, deeper, needier. He braced his forehead against yours, eyes screwed shut, muscles shaking with the effort to hold on.

“I’m—baby, I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna come—”

You cupped his face this time, kissed him through your wrecked smile. “Do it. I want it in me. Izuku—please.”

That was all he needed.

With a strangled cry, he buried himself deep one last time—so deep—and came, hips jerking, body trembling above you as he gasped your name like a prayer. You felt the warmth flood inside you, the way his cock pulsed through every twitch.

Then everything went still.

Just the sound of your heartbeats. Your ragged breathing. His soft whimpers as he collapsed on top of you, chest heaving.

You wrapped your arms around him, threading fingers through his messy curls.

“Hey,” you whispered, still breathless. “You didn’t hurt me- I mean you hurt everything around us.” He lifted his head slowly, green eyes soft again—glassy, concerned. “promise?” You smiled, kissed the tip of his nose. “You were perfect, Zuku.”

A shy grin tugged at his lips, and he melted into you with a shaky laugh, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you impossibly close.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured.

“Good,” you whispered. “I want to be the only one who gets you like this.”

“You already are,” he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“I love you”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

[🤍] imagine being hit with an aphrodisiac and trying to hide the effects it had on you during a mission with phainon and Mydei oughhh.

Like they notice something was up but the reader is too embarrassed to admit it until they collapse onto the floor a beg for help.

Sopping wet cat energy….. literally LMAOOOO

MISSION : SOAKED.

❦ paring : phainon x cat fem!reader x mydei. (mdni)

❧ synopsis : You get hit with an aphrodisiac mid-mission and end up begging Phainon and Mydei to stuff both your holes full.

❦ tws : nsfw/smut, aphrodisiac, overstimulation, size kink, bulge kink, tail pulling, pet-names, dumbification, semi- public desperation, teasing, embarrassment, hybrids, sopping wet, creampie (vaginal & anal), threesome and mild breeding kink.

The worst part wasn’t the heat pooling between your legs.

It wasn’t the way your thighs squished together every time you took a step, or how your soaked panties clung to your pussy, sticky and slick under your uniform.

No, the worst part was that they noticed.

You could feel it—Phainon's eyes on your swaying ass, Mydei’s smug little smirk every time your breath hitched.

“Awfully quiet, kitty,” Mydei purred, casually brushing past you in the dim, dusty corridor. “You’re not sick, are you? Or are you just shy?”

“I-I’m fineee,” you stammered, voice breathy and high, your tail twitching behind you like it had a mind of its own. “M’jus’—mhm—focused!”

Phainon snorted under his breath. “Focused. Sure.”

You tried so hard to act normal.

To not sink to your knees and rub against the cool floor.

To not whimper at every vibration of your heels against the ground.

But the aphrodisiac was relentless. You didn’t even know where it came from—some weird gas trap, probably. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop squirming. Couldn’t stop thinking about their fingers. Their voices. Their cocks.

“Aww, look at your ears twitching,” Mydei cooed behind you, voice syrupy sweet. “You’re dripping, huh?”

“I’m not—!” you gasped, turning around too fast and stumbling. “I’m not—mmh! N-Not d-dripping!”

Drip.

The sound was real.

So was the way your slick trickled down your inner thighs.

So was the heat building too fast to handle.

You dropped to your knees with a soft, dizzy moan, pawing at the front of your uniform.

“Please…” you finally whimpered, tears welling in your big glossy eyes. “S’too much… c-can’t think… need help…”

Phainon crouched down, slow and cruel, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “You couldn’t even ask properly, kitty.”

“Didn’t wanna be messy…” you sniffled, face flushed, lips glossy from where you’d been sucking on them trying not to moan. “Didn’t wanna ruin the mission…”

Mydei leaned against the wall with a chuckle. “Too late for that, sweetheart. You’re a mess. A cute little sopping mess.”

Phainon’s gloved hand slid between your thighs and you yowled, body jolting as his fingers brushed your soaked panties. “She’s drenched.”

“Aww, she is,” Mydei laughed. “C’mon, little kitty. Say please.”

“Please!” you gasped, tail curling helplessly as you humped Phainon’s hand like a needy thing. “Please fix me…I need it—need you!

Your pupils were blown wide, tongue poking out, your head rolling back against Phainon’s chest as he pulled you into his lap. Mydei sauntered over, crouching beside you, licking his lips.

“Don’t worry,” he said, brushing hair from your sweaty forehead. “We’ll help you, baby.”

Phainon chuckled darkly. “But after this? You’re never going out on a mission with us unsupervised again.”

Phainon had you spread out on the cold floor, your legs trembling in the air, panties ripped to shreds and tossed somewhere behind him. Mydei sat behind you, big hands stroking your tail, watching your slick hole clench around nothing.

“Aw, look at her,” Mydei murmured, rubbing circles around your twitching rim. “All floppy. All loose. She’s not gonna remember her own name after this.”

“Mmnh—‘m (Name)…” you whimpered weakly, though your voice sounded dazed and high and sooo faraway.

“Not right now, you’re not,” Phainon muttered, lining his cock up with your soaked pussy. “Right now, you’re just a dumb lil’ kitty.”

You moaned out loud when he slid in—slow at first, stretching you open inch by inch while your insides clenched desperately around him.

“Fuck, she’s sucking me in—she needs this,” he growled, grinding deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

“I think she’s ready for two,” Mydei said lazily, spitting into his palm before lining himself up with your other hole. “Hold her still.”

You could barely even gasp before your back hole was breached, your pussy already full and pulsing. Your eyes rolled back the second Mydei pushed in behind Phainon, both cocks pressing snugly inside your overstimulated body.

“Uhhnn—too full—!!” you sobbed, toes curling, ears flopping down against your head.

“S’okay, baby,” Mydei cooed, licking the shell of your ear. “You’re made to be full. You’re made for us.”

Phainon grabbed your tail and tugged. Hard. You squealed, tightening deliciously around both of them.

“That shut her brain off,” he smirked, pulling back just enough to thrust in hard. “Let’s see how many times we can make her squirt before she passes out.”

They fucked you in perfect rhythm, your pussy squelching with every thrust, your ass stretched wide, spit and slick dripping down to the floor beneath you. The mission was long forgotten. All that mattered now was taking it—their cocks, their cum, their filthy words filling your fuzzy, aphrodisiac-soaked brain.

Your belly bulged where they pressed inside, and you whimpered, pawing uselessly at Phainon’s chest.

“C-cumming—again—can’t—!!”

“Take it, kitty,” Phainon growled. “Be a good little thing and let us fill you up.”

You cried out when they finally came together, Mydei first, stuffing your ass full of hot cum while Phainon buried himself to the hilt, spurting deep into your fluttering cunt. Both loads overflowed—your pussy gushing a messy creampie that dripped down your thighs, your ass twitching as thick white cum leaked from your hole.

You collapsed bonelessly between them, your eyes glossy and lips parted, drooling a little.

“Mission complete,” Mydei said smugly, patting your head.

“Barely,” Phainon replied, pulling you into his arms like a ragdoll. “Let’s get her back to the ship. She’s not walking for days.”

“Mmhm…” you mumbled, tail wagging weakly, still twitching around both their loads. “Love… my boys…”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[cbeargyu]

What do you think about hybrid!txt? Ignore this ask if it makes you uncomfortable!!

hybrid txt

🐱 hybrid!yeonjun — cat hybrid

cocky even in rut, but when it hits? he loses it — can't stop grinding against you, purring like crazy

pins you down with one hand, tail swishing behind him, cock leaking against your thigh

fucks you slowly at first just to tease you—then snaps, starts rutting into you like an animal

low moans in your ear: “gonna fuck you till i’m the only scent on you”

has a habit of licking over your bite marks like he’s sealing you to him

looks down at the mess between your thighs and groans, “mine. every drop.”

🐰 hybrid!soobin — bunny hybrid

his rut comes on soft at first—cuddles, nuzzling, whining—but then he snaps

suddenly he's on top of you, panting hard, trembling from how badly he needs to breed

cock twitches the second he hears you say his name all breathy—“please, need it, soobin…”

fucks you like he’s been starving, hips shaking, moaning against your neck, “can’t stop—feels too good—gonna fill you up, baby…”

needs to cum inside or he gets whiny and desperate—“can’t waste it… it has to go in…”

after? kisses you all over, muttering, “you’re so good for me… took me so well…”

🐶 hybrid!beomgyu — puppy hybrid

playful and hyper outside of rut, but once he catches your scent? he’s feral

pins you to the wall, humping you through your clothes, drooling from how much he needs you

pants like a dog while fucking you—“fuckfuckfuck—so tight—gonna breed you so good…”

growls when he knots you, holds you still, forces your legs open wider

whines while he fills you, cock pulsing inside, begging to go another round

cries if you try to pull away while he’s still knotted—“don’t—stay… i need you to stay full…”

🐺 hybrid!taehyun — wolf hybrid

quiet and composed until you go into heat, then he’s everywhere—scenting, touching, growling

fucks you like it's instinct, deep and rough, barely holding back his rut-fueled hunger

buries his teeth in your neck and keeps fucking you through your screams, “you’re mine. gonna make sure it shows.”

when he knots you? he groans so deep it rumbles in your chest

holds your hips still and says “don’t move. if it leaks out, i’ll have to start over.”

after? licks your wounds gently and hums against your skin, proud and possessive

🦊 hybrid!hueningkai — fox hybrid

shy about his rut, tries to resist the urge… until he snaps and goes full predator mode

grabs your wrists, throws you on the bed, ruts against your entrance until you're crying

moans loud when he pushes in, says “you’re made for me, made to take my knot…”

obsessed with your reactions, watches your face while he fucks you stupid

knots you and won’t let go—tail wrapped around your leg, cock twitching as he pumps you full

whispers breathlessly into your neck: “gonna make you mine, inside and out…”

[bluukive]

!MDNI: JJK men as Omegas

an - I find this so funny. Warning for explicit detail no one needed or asked for

ᡣ𐭩 G. Satoru

WHINY. Normally, Satoru's so playful. It's in his stupid omega nature. But once his heats kick in, he's rolling around like a rotisserie chicken with his back arched, moaning your name so obnoxiously. He's adamant on getting his scent EVERYWHERE. If he has to feel so ridiculously aroused, then so do you.

As for his scent, it's rather subtle outside of his heats. But during them? It's sickeningly sweet like vanilla and clogs up your nostrils, kind of like how the air does before a storm. Your tongue feels heavy to the point where you can taste it.

Okay, so his slick... silky, clear and also very sweet. He's constantly leaking to the point where if you pull his boxers down, there's glossy strands connecting his twitching thighs together. It tingles when it somehow ends up in your mouth ('somehow' - you ate him out whilst simultaneously jẹrking him off whilst he was on all fours). Poor guy physically can't stop himself from leaking all the time.

CRIES. Especially when he cụms. Every inch of him feels as if it's on fire as he rolls his hips against whatever's nearest to him. Doesn't matter to him if you're an alpha or not. He needs to be in something or have something in him. Both at the same time, even.

Nipplẹs are incredibly sensitive. If you aren't sucking on them, then he's rolling them around between his slender fingers, trying to get as much stimulation as possible. He wants your hands on him at all times and gets very needy. He doesn't want anyone else to touch him but you.

Plugs lol. Wants to feel himself stretch around something, especially if you can't provide him a knot. He likes feeling feel full, and will happily plug himself whilst emptying himself into you.

ᡣ𐭩 G. Suguru

A surprising one. Very vocal during his heats and will let your name roll of his tongue like a prayer. Suguru's extremely feline-like with that purring voice of his, which does crack when the spikes of arousal hit him repeatedly.

Slightly mąsochistic, wants you to edge him repeatedly until his slick pools beneath his ąss and his cọck is drooling with pre. He thinks that the orgasm is better that way when he's forced into being good for you.

Slick, hmm... Slightly thicker than Satoru's and warm. Tastes like his scent (honey) and takes longer to leak out of him. His heat doesn't feel as frantic, and his slick is representative of that. It's kind of sticky when you taste him, but probably makes for a good lipgloss...? Idk I'm just being silly

He gets all antsy when you get too gentle with him. Suguru will let you know if you want it that way, but usually? He wants to be covered with evidence that he's been thoroughly pleasured. That includes hịckies, hand prints, the whole lot.

His scent gets progressively sweeter the more you turn him on. It's not as heavy as Satoru's, and one might consider trying to bottle up his slick to turn into candles (I read this on wattpad once when I was too young and it stuck with me)

ᡣ𐭩 N. Kento

Fake nonchalant final boss. Nanami tries to act like this is another day for him, but the scent of spices become more prominent when you're in close proximity. Once you touch him, he's a goner. He's nuzzling his face deep into your palm, which is cute enough, but he's already tensed up and grimacing at the way his ąss is getting ready for you.

His slick also tingles a tad and is slightly more watery than everyone else's. It's the tiniest bit bitter, sort of how if you lick perfume/cologne DIRECTLY off of someone's neck. It's so, so him. That being said, Nanami hates leaking because of the sensory implications his slick brings him.

He gets so handsy and desperate for the feel of your lips on his since it brings him back down to Earth. Nanami is quiet throughout it all, almost ashamed of how much he needs you. He becomes reliant on your reassurances and holds your hand if he wants to be fụcked.

BRẸEDING. Wants to be THOROUGHLY bred. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to ask, but at least both of you are incredibly in tune with each other. His ąss will clench repeatedly around you when he's at the bottom (but then he stops because the slick so filthily squelches when he does that, and he gets shy)

ᡣ𐭩 S. Ryomen

Bites, growls, snarls. Sukuna is completely feral, even as an omega. He's into marking you more than he's into being marked, but he does like being clawed at. It just makes the slick leak out of him even more in hot, weighted oozes.

His slick...It feels both solid and the same time somehow, and the smell hits your nose with a tangy note. You'd rather not have it in your mouth since the taste lingers long after his heats are done (which are longer than the average omega). If you won't try it, Sukuna will. I don't know why but I feel like he would.

Destroys the whole bedroom. Nothing is left of the sheets and it's quite comical how he lounges around with an arm behind his head. As if the middle of the bed isn't sinking because of the intensity of how he broke the mattress.

Hates being teased. You're not edging him, you're not licking his cock, and you're definitely not wasting time on fingering his ąss either. He's wet and loose enough to take whatever you're able to give him (personally, I find that outrageous).

ᡣ𐭩 T. Fushiguro

Feral pt. 2. He thinks he's so big and bad pinning you down like that, but Toji's begging for some sort of touch. He cries tears that he tries to wipe away, but you notice anyway (even if he hides them under a growl).

Toji is unashamed of how he drips all over. He takes pride in it, knowing that it doesn't diminish his masculinity in the slightest. His slick is syrupy and incredibly potent, the thick ropes clinging to his ąss and thighs much like Satoru. It gets everywhere.

The scent of his slick (and him in general) is incredibly musky and earthy. There's a smokey undertone to it accompanied by the taste of caramel. The scent gets you almost drunk immediately, triggering your own arousal. It tastes the same but more pleasant than Sukuna's.

Surprisingly wants to be manhandled, which is tough because he's huge. But at the bare minimum, he's rịding you like a pro. His hips are fluid, and you can see the veins in his body become prominent with frustration the longer he goes without cụmming thick, creamy loads all over you both.

Licks a lot and wants to scent everything you both own. Panty thief Toji comes back, and he's got a hoard of your underwear scattered across the bed. One's even around his cọck when you walk in on him (recurring theme I fear).

[sourpeachsayshi]

Hi Peach!~ I would like to request monster fucking with the (lads) guys (separately) with reader being the monster instead >:Dc What type of monster? I shall leave that to you to decide but I think it'd be interesting if it were a different one per guy ^_~. Please and thank you in advance <3

minors - ageless - blank blogs dni

notes: cw monsterfucking; smut

sylus x gorgon!reader: the snakes on your scalp coil tightly around one another, your lips parting as a very loud moan leaves your throat which echoes throughout your quiet lair. your hands grip onto the surface of the floor, your nails scratching against the gray marble. “proved you wrong, sweetie” sylus grunts, his hands gripping the meat your soft flesh as he thrusts roughly from behind, making you feel pleasure for the first time in a century. this devil of a man. he narrows his red eyes, his voice purring as you squeeze around his cock, “it looks like there is a mortal who can actually face you…”

xavier x lady of the lake!reader: "I want to be with you," he breathes into your neck, his fingers dragging between the folds of your dripping cunt. your fingers tangle between his white hair, tears pricking your eyes. it was written in the prophecy for you to kill him, to use your magic and stop the infamous "lumiere". "xavier," you whimper, his other hand which is wrapped around your throat tenses. he lifts his head up to look down at you, "say you don't want me..." he states firmly, burying his knuckles deep within you and stroking against the sweet spot that makes you whine. "if you say it, then I will let you go..."

rafayel x bloody mary!reader: "god," he groans, his fingers gripping the bathroom sink, his face crimson and hot. you release him from your mouth, strings of saliva sticking from your lips to the length of his cock. you giggle cruelly, "you didn't summon god, pretty boy," you drag your tongue over his slit, and he buckles slightly as he drops to lean against his forearms. you are pumping his length, your other hand squeezing his balls. "I'm going to suck you dry for disturbing my slumber," you tease with a sweet grin, "or until you beg me to stop."

zayne x succubus!reader: the restraints burn your wrists, your back arches off the bed as the heat of his tongue licks and strokes your cunt. his fingers stroke your thighs soothingly, but you thrash against him because he's supposed to be your victim, not the other way around. "what?" he ponders, resting his cheek against your thigh. "after all these nights where I wake up making a mess of my sheets, you didn't think I would get even with you, demon?". you want to talk back, but he strips the words from your lips when sucks on your clit instead. "it's a sin to admit how you sweet you taste," he murmurs with a smile, "but it seems like you're a temptation that I can't resist either."

caleb x hybrid harpie!reader: "I'm not...supposed to-" you gasp, "mate with...a human...". caleb interlaces his hand between yours, noticing your wings spread beautifully against his bed. he drags his cock slowly, back and forth and back and forth, a ring of cum circling his length (from the first time he came). but it's not enough because he can't get enough. your wings shiver when he sucks on your hardened nipple. "aren't you technically half human yourself?" he mumbles into your chest. "it's..." you swallow the lump in your throat, your lashes fluttering close, "forbidden...wrong...". caleb readjusts his position, feverishly fucking you this time as if to convince you otherwise. "no it's not..." he breathes and then repeats, "no, it's fucking not..."