#so I was completely oblivious to most of those changes

[ofgrenvde]

"Calm down. I'm not going to actually marry you. There will be no playlists," she said, shaking her head at his whole wedding comment thing. "But this is kinda nice, being able to be friends." The words came out easier than she'd expected, and she meant them more than she probably should. When was the last time she'd just sat somewhere joking around with someone who wasn't trying to get something from her or acting like she might murder them if they said the wrong thing. "Relentless, yeah that's me," she shot back, grinning because he wasn't wrong about the financial ruin plan. "I was gonna work my way up to ordering the most expensive bottle of wine they have, just to watch you sweat." His whole thing about not becoming Dash's personal chef made her laugh because her husky was already planning his next move. She could see it in those ridiculous blue eyes, the gears turning as he figured out how to milk this situation for maximum treats and attention.

That comment was spot on—she definitely spoils her dogs something awful. Tank had trained her better than she'd trained him, and Dash knew exactly which buttons to push to get what he wanted. "Hey, I'm not enabling anything," she said, still scratching behind Dash's ears. "I'm just acknowledging superior manipulation skills when I see them." Tank really was running the whole show though, positioned perfectly between their chairs like some kind of furry security detail. Her chow chow had claimed this territory and this new person faster than she'd ever seen him warm up to anyone. That gorgeous compliment made her chest feel weird again, that same flutter from before that she didn't want to think about too hard. He said it so casually, like it was just a fact instead of some line he was trying to use on her. Most guys threw compliments around like confetti, but something about the way he said it made her actually believe he meant it. Which was stupid territory to be wandering into, but here she was anyway. "Breaking the internet with puppy commercials," she said, keeping her voice light. "Yeah, that's definitely the career change my father's been hoping for." Dash's tail was going crazy at all the attention, completely oblivious to the fact that he was supposed to be starving and pathetic instead of living his best life.

Kyro smirks, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head. “You’re really out here planning my financial ruin? First the wine bill, now you’re trying to guilt me into buying Dash a burger. You’re relentless.” He glances down at the husky, who’s now sprawled out like he’s auditioning for a soap opera. “But hey, I’ll give him credit. That’s some top-tier manipulation. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was starving for real.” Dash’s tail thumps against the ground at the sound of his voice, and Kyro can’t help but laugh. “Alright, buddy, I’ll think about it. But don’t get used to it. I’m not about to become your personal chef.” His eyes flick back to Izel, catching the way she’s scratching behind Dash’s ears like it’s second nature. “And you,” he adds, pointing at her with mock seriousness, “don’t act like you’re not enabling this whole performance. You’re just as guilty.”

He shifts his attention to Tank, who’s still planted firmly between their chairs, looking like he’s guarding the gates of some royal palace. “Tank, though? He’s got the whole operation locked down. Blocking the exits, keeping everyone in check. I’m starting to think he’s the real boss here.” The chow chow doesn’t even blink, just keeps his steady, unimpressed gaze on Kyro. “Yeah, I see how it is. You’re not just a dog; you’re a strategist.” The SPCA comment makes him chuckle, low and easy. “A cartel heiress cuddling puppies? That’s the kind of PR spin nobody would see coming. You’d probably break the internet.” He pauses, letting the teasing settle before adding, “And for the record, I wasn’t joking about the gorgeous part. You’d sell out every shelter in the city.” The words come out casually, but there’s a flicker of something genuine underneath. He doesn’t linger on it, though. No need to make it weird.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table as he glances at the menu. “But yeah, let’s talk about this plain patty idea. You really think Dash could handle that level of excitement? I mean, look at him. He’s already acting like he’s on the verge of fainting, and we haven’t even ordered yet.” He gives her a quick grin, the kind that’s more playful than serious. “You’re lucky I’m a sucker for dogs. Otherwise, I’d be calling you out for trying to use them to win me over.” The thought slips in before he can stop it;this whole fake engagement thing isn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. They’re sitting here, joking around like they’ve known each other for years, and it feels... easy. Comfortable, even. He doesn’t say it out loud, but it’s there, in the way he lets the moment stretch out without rushing to fill the silence. Finally, he leans back again, giving her a mock-serious look. “You know, if this is how we’re gonna do the whole fake couple thing, I think we might actually pull it off. Just don’t start planning the wedding playlist yet. I draw the line at cheesy love songs.”

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. it’s late at night and you try to cuddle with sukuna. keyword; try.

wc. 1.2k

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. fluff, angst (+comfort). heian era. size difference (readers referred to as small). sukuna’s a bit mean, but he also has a soft spot for you. miscommunication ? it gets solved. reader gets called ‘woman, doll’.

“what are you trying to do?” sukuna sighs. you’re up to something again, he figures. his red eyes follow your body as it crawls up to him on the bed.

you’re both tired after a long day of fulfilling some duties here and there around the estate. all you need is a big beefy man wrapping his arms around you to keep you warm and safe.

the perfect man for that is sukuna. those four arms of his wrapped around your small body feel like heaven.

“it’s called cuddling,” you retort. the sarcastic tone you used triggers a deep sigh from the sorcerer. sukuna holds back the urge to say something sarcastic as well.

he doesn’t utter a single word once you snuggle up to his chest. you’ve taught him how to cuddle during the first time you asked him to hold you. sukuna was awkward with showing any type of affection back then.

. . he still very much is.

“hug, please,” you remind him. the cold-hearted man scoffs, though listens to your polite request. all four of his arms imprison you against his chest, your small body nearly disappearing behind his limbs.

that’s what you like most about those cuddles you share together; how you fit so perfectly in his strong arms. it’s much more comforting than you thought it would be.

a pair of hands rests on your waist, the other pair on your hips. sukuna glances down at you and immediately notices that smile on your lips. even after all this time, he still cannot fathom why you’re so carefree around a monster like him.

and that inability to understand you and your love for him is accompanied by an urge to push you away.

“you got your hug, now get up,” sukuna interrupts the silence. his voice is cold and devoid of emotion—he uses that voice when he talks to other people. not with you, “i have better things to attend to.”

thus, it hurts. when he talks to you like that. like you’re not the person he secretly cherishes most. though, you remind yourself of sukuna’s own words. the ones you heard him say a while ago.

‘love is meaningless’, he said. you remember. and yet you kept hoping that he’d change his mind about that statement. you hoped and eventually saw exactly that: your presence and your affectionate gestures mellowed his heart of steel.

but all that effort seems to go down the drain every time sukuna pushes you away.

you know it’s because he’s unfamiliar with the feelings of love. he may not say it nor show it, but you know that sukuna’s afraid of hurting you. so, he creates a gap between you two every now and then.

you know and yet you’re patient.

“oh, ‘kay,” you nod in understanding. you pull away from his embrace and get up from the bed. your bottom lip trembles.

sukuna is not gullible. he’s anything but oblivious. especially if it’s about how you feel and act. he notices every single change in your mood; whether you mask it or not.

you walk to the sliding doors—ready to open them and step out into the hallway. your eyes are a bit watery, but you quickly blink the tears away and take a deep breath in. you reach for the door.

“come back here, woman.”

sukuna’s booming voice makes you stop. you glance at his form over your shoulder. he’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

is he. . . upset?

“why? you said you had better things to attend to.” you answer with a shrug. you try your best to not make it seem like his earlier words had effected you. you turn your head towards the word with a huff, “go on, then.”

sukuna narrows his eyes. he sucks at communicating what he actually desires—what he actually wants. right now that want is for you to stay. even though that completely contradicts his previous words.

the sorcerer doesn’t know what to do. when you’re with him, he pushes you away out of guilt. when you’re away, he wants you back with him.

love is complicated.

“you. . .” sukuna grunts in frustration. all those feelings for you inside of his heart are playing with his rational thoughts. he doesn’t like seeing you upset. he wants the usual you back, “tsk. fine then.”

silence, followed by the creaking of the bed frame. seems like sukuna’s getting up to do whatever ‘business’ he needed to attend. at least, that’s what you thought.

you slide the door open and set a foot outside of the chambers. before the other could follow, you’re suddenly lifted up in the air by a strong pair of hands. your vision turns upside down as your body is effortlessly hoisted onto a shoulder.

“woah!” you gasp and feel the blood go to your head. your eyes are fixed on the back of your lover. you kick your legs in protest, but only get a smack to your ass in response. you whine at that, “put me down!”

“watch it, doll,” sukuna hisses at your fierce demand, a warning to fix your tone. he puts you back down on the soft mattress. he’s surprisingly gentle when he settles you in place—not throwing you on the bed or anything similar, “should’ve listened when i told you the first time.”

your eyes meet sukuna’s and you notice how much they’ve softened. that alone makes the lump in your throat disappear. your love for him isn’t one sided—you’ve always kept that in the back of your mind—yet your thoughts made you overlook the little things he does for you.

his actions speak louder than his words. that’s the kind of man he is.

sukuna’s trying to open up more, though that process is slow. you’re fine with that.

especially when there’s that faint pout on his lips as he stares at you. his eyebrows are still furrowed, his crimson eyes sharp yet warm.

“oh, you want me back in bed this bad?” you tease once you get the opportunity. the man in front of you clicks his tongue and grabs your cheeks with one hand, turning your head up to face him.

sukuna’s eyes are focused on yours. the eye contact is intimidating, but you’re hypnotised. you physically can’t look away. he leans in and bites your lip with his sharp canines, “shut up.”

that raspy whisper alone confirms your assumption. you giggle at his attempt of refuting your point. you’re used to all those intimidating words and actions he pulls to get you to stop your teasing.

those empty threats—it’s becoming rather cute with how hard he tries to deny everything. he fails nearly every time, however.

“come,” sukuna lays back against the pillows after placing a quick and sloppy kiss against your lips. he pulls your body against his and presses your head against his chest, right where his heart is beating, “continue with your.. ‘cuddling’ thing.”

he put your ear right above his heart, because he remembers listening to his heartbeat calms you down. you told him that a while back. sukuna doesn’t understand why you like it, but his fingers massage your scalp either way.

that’s also something that brings you comfort.

you’re surprised by how much he knows about you, but appreciate it anyway. he remembers both the big and small things about you. ‘that’s how he probably shows his love,’ you conclude silently.

[kalims]

he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point. 

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite. 

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile. 

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?” 

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

[nanaslutt]

so i just read like… ALL your gojo stuff.

now imagine… gojo not being able to hold back and wanting to breed you after you both try those aphrodisiac chocolates… ahem…

i am absolutely terrified of getting pregnant yet have the words most insufferable breeding kink, we exist

Contains: fem reader, aphrodisiacs, masturbation, no prep, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, SOOO much dirty talk, praise, so much cum.., whiped!gojo, established relationship

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Gojo was talking soooo much shit when you sent him a link to some aphrodisiac chocolates you saw online. He would not stop dismissing that they didn’t actually work; saying none of that shit that advertised any kind of enhancement in sexual arousal ever did.

So of course you had to order the chocolates and really test it for yourselves, making a challenge out of it.

If the chocolates truly had an effect, gojo would do whatever you wanted, and if they didn’t? vice versa. Gojo was game, of course; because he didn’t think anything would happen.

“Bleh- they taste like shit too,” Satoru grimaced, chasing the horrible flavor with a strawberry soda.

“That’s probably because there’s something in them satoru…like the aphrodisiac…,” you shook you head, swallowing the bitter chocolate.

“Orrrr; crazy thought; it’s just some cheap chocolate marketed as aphrodisiacs to make a ton of money off of people like us.” he drawled, throwing his hands up in the air and waving them around when he spoke.

“I really thought you out of all people would find this kind of thing fun satoru.” you said, trying to push his buttons a bit.

“We’ll of course, chocolate and sex? I’m all over that,” he said making you laugh, “but me and suguru tried something like this for fun back in our student days, it was some kind of pill though,” his face twisted in discomfort as he spoke, “just ended up making us super sick tho, yaga got pissed, heh” he laughed, remembering the memory.

“Knowing you two it was probably some cheap boner pill you got in a sketchy bag at the convenience store.. so that might explain it.” you snorted,

He rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck, “yeah, there was like 5 other pills in the bag with it now that I think about it..” he said quietly, making you hunch over in a laugh.

The two of you went about your evening like normal, watching some comedy movie that was on and cuddling together on the sofa. When it ended you went off to change into something more comfortable as you started off to finished the laundry.

You haven’t felt anything extremely out of the ordinary yet; remembering that the package said it might take long for women to feel the affects; but gojo on the other hand was feeling mildly uncomfortable.

His face and neck were feeling warm, throughout the entire movie his big hand was placed on your upper thigh, like always. What was unusual though, was how his skin tingled when he placed it on yours, palms sweating more than usual; he just chalked it up to all the junk he had been eating throughout the day, probably upsetting his body.

When you moved back into the kitchen and started on the dishes the two of you had created in the sink, Gojo couldn’t help but hyper focus on the fat off your ass peeking out of your night shorts.

The way you moved your hips as some r&b music played quietly from the tv. He watched your muscles and tendons move together when you twisted your body around, watching your ankles cross; one behind the other; getting comfortable from where you stood.

Satoru was feeling hot all over now, a large hand coming down to grope himself over his pants when you bent over to put the dishes into the washer, poking out your clothed mound towards him, the fabric of your shorts squeezing your curves just right.

His jaw dropped slightly, breathing heavier as he got off on watching you do such a mundane task like the dishes.

You inserted the pod into the dishwasher, completely oblivious to satoru’s shenanigans as you stood up straight. You noticed when washing your hands that you were starting to feel a warmth washing over your body, and a sort of warm coil tightening in your tummy.

The lightbulb went off in your head when you realized it was probably the work of the chocolates. You quickly shut off the water, towel is hand as you whipped your head behind you to tell gojo what was happening to you; and to inform him that you were going to win this challenge.

Your motions were stopped short as you bumped straight into gojos chest, “Oh! Didn’t realize you were-“ Your words getting cut off when gojo grabbed the bottom of your face, bringing your lips to his, and kissing you hungrily.

Gojo used his other had to slide his arm around your body, pressing you hard into him, letting you feel his erection against your tummy.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your words that tried to excape, “Sa-mm- Satoru-“ you got out between kisses. Gojo shoved his knee between your legs, putting delicious pressure on your cunt as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.

You had to grip his hair and pull his face off of you to speak, this didn’t really phase him as he targeted your neck instead, biting and sucking on the skin there, “Fuck- s-satoru slow down-“ you moaned when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Cant, need you-“ he spoke in between his rushed love bites on your neck, moving his big hands to hold your hips as he made you rock your cunt back and forth along this thigh.

Your head was spinning a mild a minute, still trying to wrap your head around the current situation. You expected this to happen; being on the side of ‘pro aphrodisiacs and all; you just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and for it to have such a strong effect on someone like Satoru.

“S-shit- those chocolates have you m-more worked up than me,” you tried to laugh, voice cut short by a moan when his knee nudged your clit at a particularly mouthwatering angle.

“Need to be inside you,” he ignored you, groaning against your pulse point, hot breath tickling your neck when he spoke.

Gojo was breathing so heavily, his cock feeling like it was about to rip a hole in his pants at how hard he was. “Take em off, now-“ he whimpered, referring to your bottoms as he started pulling them down your legs, panties following suit.

You helped him, gripping his hair and keeping his lips pressed against your neck while you kicked off your shorts off from around your ankles . His hands dropped down to remove his own sweats, too impatient to fully take them off as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out, jerking himself off with one hand rapidly between you; hand holding your hip with his other.

“Let me put it in, please, need to be inside you now-“ he groaned, finally pulling back from your neck; and he looked absolutely wrecked.

This whole situation was giving you whiplash, but you felt bad for him. Satoru’s hands were shaking, face flushed completely crimson, and he was sweating and panting like he just ran a marathon.

He continued stroking his cock, eyes flirting between your pussy and your pretty lips while he waited for them to move, voicing your consent.

His cock was dripping so much pre it looked like he already came. Hard cock still dripping steadily onto his hand and fingers, making his strokes emit loud ‘plp’ sounds into the air.

“Yes, please, give it to me toru,” you spoke, making him let out a moan of satisfaction. You wrapped your arms around his neck when he lifted you suddenly, burring your hands in his hair and face in his neck as he slid his dick into you with zero prep, all at once.

You were greatful the aphrodisiac was in affect, making you so much wetter than normal, and in turn, making the stretch a whole less painful then it would’ve been without it.

You whined at how his massive clock split you in half effortlessly, “Sorry baby- m’ sorry-“ he apologized with a groan against your bruised neck; whatever consciousness he still had left being aware that that might’ve hurt you.

“Shit it’s o-okay toru, just give it to me- fuck-“ You tipped your head back, jaw dropping and releasing a loud whine, giving him more access to mark up your neck while he fucked into you like a mad man; legs dangling over his arms as he held you in his strong grasp, hoisting you up and down on his cock like you weighed nothing to him.

“Holy fuckkk” he whined, vibrations going through your skin, “Need to fill you up, need to fuck you full of my cum s-shit-“ Gojo was working himself up with his words, already on the brink of his orgasm only a couple thrusts in.

He was truly using you like a cocksleve as he fucked into you at an inhumane pace, heavy balls slapping against your ass, strings of your combined wetness connecting to your ass each time he thrusted inside.

He sucked harder against your skin as he felt his first high rapidly approach him. His eyes repeatedly rolling back in his skull at the rhythmic pulsing of your pussy around him.

“Shitshitshit- gonna c-cum, need you to take it all f’me” his deep voice reverberated through you, all you could do is cry and moan our strings of his name and “yesyesyes” while he fucked his first load of the night into you.

“T-take it f-fucking take it yessss” Gojo felt like he was on cloud nine, he had never felt anything like this before. Of course he loved cumming inside you when you had sex but this was different. Every neuron in his brain was telling him to fuck load after load into you; to get you pregnant.

Gojo didn’t actually want kids right now, and you were on the pill so the possibility of him actually knocking you up was low- but not if his aphrodisiac brain had anything to say about it; he would make sure to fucking try.

Ignoring the overstimulation he felt as he humped his cum into you with heavy thrusts, quickly picking up his speed again when he finished spurting the warm ropes of cum into you, making you squeal at his quick recovery.

“Pussy feels so fucking good, so fucking wet sh-itttt” he groaned, dick twitching and abs clenching as he fucked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, sending him straight twords another one.

“T-toru o-oh my god-“ you wimpered, body flopping around limply at the intense pleasure. His cock was drilling straight into your sweet spot and making you dizzy. You tried not to pass out as he manhandled your body, gripping you roughly and marking up your skin everywhere his insatiable lips could reach.

“Gonna knock you up baby- g-gunna give you my babies- get you fucking pregnant, yeah? you want that?” you cut off his filthy mouth by using the grip you had on his head to press his mouth against yours.

“Yesyesyes, give me your babies toru- gonna make you a daddy-“ he groaned into your mouth at your mutual need for him to fill you up.

Gojo felt drunk hearing the nickname bounce around inside his head. Gojo never thought he had a daddy kink, but in this scenario? The nickname had him feeling like he was about to come again already.

By this point, the aphrodisiac was affecting you just as much as it was him, everywhere his body touched yours felt like your skin was on fire. You tried not to lose your sanity as he was pushing your towards your first orgasm without so much as even grazing your clit.

He set you down on the ground and in one swift movement spun you around so you were facing the counter. Satoru used his massive had to grab hold of his cock, slipping it back into your drenched walls.

You both groaned in unison at the sensation. Gojo gave you both a couple seconds to relish in the feeling, pressing his balls hard against your ass before he picked up his same ruthless pace as before.

“Good fucking girl- gonna look so fucking pretty with ur belly all round with my baby shiiit” he groaned when he felt your cunt clench around him at the idea.

He brought his massive palm down feeling your cunt squeeze him, leaving a heavy spank against your ass and gripping the fat between his fingers.

“Pussy tryna fuckin’ milk me down here” he laughed, biting his lip when he watched your hand come down to rub your clit in quick circles, “Yeaahhh fucking touch your pussy for me baby, make urself cum all over my dick while i fill you up.” he instructed, clenching his jaw.

“Shit- g-give it to me daddy- cum inside me-” you mindlessly babbled, there you go again with that fucking nickname that had his balls tightening.

You feet the coil wind itself up quicker than normal at your enhanced sexual arousal from the chocolate and the now added stimulation of touching your neglected clit.

“Come with me baby, gotta feel you cum around me- please” he begged, leaving another loud slap against your ass before pulling you back on his dick roughly by your hips.

“S -shit it’s coming it’s coming i’m- fuckfuck- ngghhh” your warned, voice cutting out as you started to come around his girth while he fucked you through it.

“yeeeeeess baby- fuuuuck- milk my fucking cock fuck-“ he watched intently as your little hole clenched around him, his first load spurting out around his cock with the pressure of your orgasm, making the white ring around the base of his dick get even messier.

“I’m coming again baby- take it for me- need you to take it all, gotta make sure it t-takes” he whined, getting you pregnant still on the forfront of his brain.

Your legs would’ve collapsed on the floor if he wasn’t holding up a majority of your weight by your hips. Your nails slid against the marble as his cock rammed against your cervix, making you dizzy, broken moans getting forced out of your mouth at the feeling of getting repeatedly impaled on his cock.

You tried to gain a little bit of brainpower back to help gojo through his orgasm just like he did for you, “y-e-sss toru’ cum inside me please- i’ll take it all- be a good girl for you-“ your voice squeaked out, words getting louder at the end with how rough his thrusts were,

He leaned over your back, pressing his sweaty chest onto you while he wrapped you in a tight bear hug, not ceasing his ruthless hips, “Need you t-to kiss me baby- go-nna be instense” he whimpered against your shoulder, waiting for you to turn your head twords him to give him access to your mouth.

When you did he wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. The two of you swallowed each others moans as his pitch got higher and higher; his tight grip was sure to leave dark bruises on your body as he held onto you for dear life at his impending orgasm.

When the coil finally snapped, he shook violently against you, hips stilling against your ass, pressing his hips as deep as he could into you while hot ropes of cum filled you up even more than his last load, making more cum spill out around him at how full you already were.

His breath was hitching into your mouth, lips doing their best to kiss you back as his jaw kept falling open as the waves of his high washed over him.

He whined and dropped his head against your shoulder when he started to come down. Gojo panted heavily against your skin, twitching in the aftershocks of his high.

“D-don’t move please” he requested, fucking his softening cock into you a couple more times to make sure his cum was as deep inside you as it could go.

“Fuck toru- feel so full right now..” you wined into the marble, wincing in overstimulation at his final few weak thrusts.

After a couple seconds he finally pulled out his cock, gulping hard as he watched his cum start to dribble out of you; making you whine at the slightly uncomfortable feeling.

He used a couple fingers to spread your pussy lips; admiring his work for a second before he used to fingers to scoop his cum back up, stuffing his thick digits back inside of you, “Gotta get that plug of yours to keep it all in,” he said, biting his lip at how soft you felt around his fingers.

“Or you could let me cockwarm you,” you giggled, turning your head back to look at him while he looked enthralled with your cunt.

“God I love you, smartest fucking girl I know.” he praised.

You fell into a fit of giggles when he scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses onto your face while he headed twords your shared bedroom.

You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist while he walked, keeping them snug even when he dropped the two of you on the mattress together. Gojo’s large frame laying on top of you as he reached his hand down between you to slide his semi-hard cock back into your oversensitive walls, making you hiss at the feeling, “Sorry baby- almost in,” he promised, kissing your cheeks while he fully bottomed out.

He rolled his eyes at how warm and soft you felt around his dick, sucking soft hickeys into the crook of your neck while you pet his damp hair.

“I’ll clean you up in a second my love, promise, you just feel too good right now.” he let out a short laugh against you.

“‘S okay toru, makes me feel good too.” you tipped your head forward and pressed kisses onto the top of his scalp.

“We gotta be careful with those chocolates,” he laughed, “Might acctually knock you up one day if we keep eatin those,”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you confessed, squeezing your legs harder around his hips.

“Dangerous words to say right now pretty girl,” he warned, smirking into your skin,

“Oh right, guess you won the bet,” he remembered, “Whacha want ur big strong boyfriend to do for you?” he asked teasingly,

“Cum inside me again, right now,” you requested after a beat, emphasizing your need by squeezing your pussy walls around him, making him inhale a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Fuck… you serious?” he smirked, lifting his head to look at you.

“Don’t keep me waiting, give me my prize toru,” you pouted your bottom lip at him, making his brain short circuit as he felt his cock twitch back to life.

You ended up taking a plan B the next morning… just in case…

[gtgbabie0]

i love how you write lottie sm shes so soft babie gf :( may i rq smth where r decides to prank her by calling her charlotte instead of lottie or some pet name to see how'd she react cus shes so whipped and puppy like that she'd immediate pout n wonder what she did wronh (fluff n established relationship !!) <3

{Calling Lottie ‘Charlotte’ as a prank}

Thank you anon! Soft Lottie for the win always <3

Lottie was utterly head over heels in love with you, in every sense of the meaning— like her heart skips several beats when your hand even slightly brushes against her own like she could just admire you for hours upon hours without getting bored type of whipped. You’ve turned her into some lovesick puppy and she had zero complaints.

Especially when she gets to lounge around with you in your tiny dorm room, snuggled up in bed all weekend— her head resting against your chest, wrapped up in one of your jumpers, humming along to the songs that were softly playing through your cassette player whilst it rained heavily outside.

The cassette restarts, replaying the same songs you’ve both already heard for the second time— “Can I change the tape?” Lottie asks, tipping her head backwards to catch your gaze with a soft smile.

“Yeah— of course.” you turn your attention from your book to her, dropping a kiss to her forehead before she sits up. “The box is under the bed, baby.” And you certainly don’t miss the way her eyes light up at the sweet endearment, a subtle blush to her cheeks that dimple into a smile.

She’s always been like that, going all giddy at even the most corniest of nicknames— anything you did turned her to mush if we were being completely honest, but the sickly sweetness of those damned names really did something to her and her hopeless romantic heart. You couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react if you were to call her by her full name. Oh, how absolutely evil of you.

You watch her as she sits criss-cross rummaging through the box of old cassette tapes, no longer interested in the book that was now lying on your lap— the bookmark that Lottie had made for Valentine’s Day last year you now neatly slotted into the page. Your poor girlfriend was completely oblivious to the devious thoughts that crept into your mind, too focused on rummaging through all your tapes to notice that smirk that meant nothing but trouble.

“You found one yet Charlotte?— pretty sure I’ve heard this song for the fifth time today.” You ask, fighting against the sudden urge to giggle as her head turns to face you.

The look on her face was downright devastating, big dark eyes melting, her lips turned downwards into a confused pout, brows pinched together slightly. Just like a damn puppy, you swear if she had ears they’d be all droopy in sadness. You felt awful for enjoying it so much.

Lottie doesn’t say anything but her lips part as if she wanted to— words at the tip of her tongue but far too stunned to actually form them. “What’s the look for?” You have the gall to ask as if you haven’t just completely broken her damn heart!

She doesn’t like it all, there was something so oddly wrong about the way her full name sounded coming from your mouth— not even ‘Lottie’ or ‘Lott’ but ‘Charlotte’ it was horrible. She immediately abandons the box of cassettes to shuffle closer to you, still wearing that adorable pout on her face.

“You okay, Charlotte?”

She's all too quick to respond, frown deepening. “Why’re you calling me Charlotte— you never call me that.”

Her fingers brush against your palm as if trying to make sure you were angry at her and when you don’t pull away it soothes her worries if only slightly because her deep brown eyes are still roaming across your face— studying you almost with a small tilt of her head.

“Did I do something?” Her words damn near break your heart and before you can apologise she’s whispering a small apology.

“Oh no, hey— hey, m’just being dumb.” You reassure, pushing yourself to sit up before curling your arms around her shoulders and she’s quick to melt against you— pressing her face into the crook of your neck with a sigh, relief flooding her as her fingers clutch at your shirt. “Just messing with you baby.”

You could feel her pout deepen against your neck, lips pursing out as her finger jabs into your side lightly with a small huff— “You’re the worst.” She murmurs, not lifting her head up from your shoulder. “Seriously. Don’t do that again, idiot.”

You turn to press a kiss to her cheek, then another and another until she’s nuzzling into you with a small smirk— arms wrapping around you a little tighter. “Alright. Okay, m’sorry— you just look so pretty when you pout, baby.” You tease, lips brushing against the soft curve of her jaw as you speak which only makes her dissolve further into you, your hand rubs her back as her own dips beneath the fabric of your shirt to caress over your waist.

Lottie pulls back, scrunching her face up even more before dropping her forehead against your own with a soft chuckle— her lips brushing a feather-light kiss to yours, her soft hands coming up to cup your face.

“Well don’t make a habit of it, you’re not allowed to call me Charlotte. Ever again.” She whispers against your lips, nose nestled into yours with a soft grin— stealing your words with a kiss.

[slytherinboysvip]

!Motorcycle rider bf¡ Theo Nott

(Nsfw! Your boyfriend Theo has a motorcycle now.. and a hot fucking helmet.) (helmet kink? lol idk) smut smut smut

Your boyfriend Theo didn’t have many outlets to get away from his thoughts, before it was smoking which he’s attempting to slow down on for you, occasional journaling not that he’d ever let you see that, and now his newest and most favorite hobby riding his motorcycle.

To be completely honest at first the idea terrified you, an angry Theo driving around on a motorcycle going any speed he pleased “Starò bene amore mio, tu sei il mio portafortuna”(ill be fine my love youre my good luck charm). You’d also be lying to yourself if you didn’t say he looked damn fucking good in his helmet. So good in fact that you needed him to fuck you in it.

It’s like his whole demeanor changes when he puts it on, you can’t see his face yet you know his beautiful sleepy eyes are looking directly at you underneath, yet all you see is his fit body and it just did something to you. It didn’t matter what he was wearing as long as that helmet was on his head you were drenched.

𓆙𓆙

The first time you rode on the back of his motorcycle was amazing. He bought you your own helmet “I had to get it for you baby it screamed you, and it gave an excuse to finally make you ride with me. Not that you haven’t done that before” He winked while putting it over your head. You were glad it was on so he couldn’t make fun of your profuse blushing but who cares it’s because of your hot boyfriend.

He put his helmet on and you nearly fell to your knees he looked so fucking hot. Without saying anything he lifted you up and onto the back of the bike and got on in front of you. “Can you hear me principessa?” You jumped hearing his deep voice in your ear “Yeah? how can I hear you Teddy?” You were so confused “I got mics duh, had to be able to hear my baby. Now hold onto my waist we’re gonna get going don’t let go.” His voice was demanding and you did as he said.

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he grabbed your left hand and kissed it before putting it back down and kicking off, You didn’t expect it but the bumpiness of the road was doing something to you. You tried forgetting about it, it wasn’t happening, you weren’t getting turned on, but you were.

Your hands mindlessly wandered down onto your boyfriend’s crotch, rubbing slightly yet acting oblivious. “What do you think you’re doing there, hm?”. You almost forgot your boyfriend could hear you, “Nothingg, just resting my hands duh” You added some pressure and heard a small groan turning you on even more than before.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish doll” One of his hands came down and stopped your hands forcefully, a small moan escaping your mouth unwillingly. “My cute slut” He chuckled pulling your hands back up and going back to both hands steering.

𓆙𓆙

It has been long enough and you needed him to fuck you in the helmet. At this point all you had to do was tell him, of course he’d do it he does anything for you but the act of having to ask is so embarrassing, but its what has to be done for your own sake.

Reluctantly walking over to your boyfriend you quickly somewhat quietly expressed your feelings “Ireallyreallyneedyoutofuckmeinyourhelmetorilldie”. He looked at you with a confused look “Say that again but in actual words this time” He placed both hands onto your shoulders looking deep into your eyes, yet another weakness of yours. “I want you to fuck me in your helmet” You mumbled just enough for him to understand, trying to look away .

He chuckled before pulling your face to look him in the eyes again “il tuo desiderio è il mio comando, principessa” (your wish is my command princess). He got up and turned you around, “Keep those pretty little eyes of yours closed for a second”. You heard him walking away and did as he said before feeling a tap on your shoulder, “Turn around doll.”. Doing as he said you were greeted by a helmeted Theo, “Holy fuck you’re so hot”

“You know what you asked for, don’t waste time get on the bed for me slut”. You just nodded quickly before running for the bed and undressing. “Good girl, know just what to do for me. Get my pants down for me”. Pulling them down as much as you could you grabbed his growing dick and putting it into your mouth looking up at him from the bed, this entire view and situation made your pussy fucking drip.

You could hear his low groans coming from underneath the helmet and it was making you want more, “Please fuck me Teddy, please I fucking need it” You were looking up to your own reflection and seeing yourself covered in saliva because of this and made you feel something you never felt, you just wanted more. “Lay back then, I want you to fucking watch me.” He removed his shirt and holy shit he everything became even better. You definitely weren’t protesting this.

His rock hard abs, his throbbing big fucking dick and his helmeted head. He was like a god. Lining himself up to you he rammed deep inside making you give out a loud moan, his pace was immediately picking up hitting all the right places. His right hand came up to your pussy and he easily found your swollen clit begging for attention, he began swift circles over your clit with his thumb moving it side to side occasionally, It was already making you go over the edge. Everything about this moment was everything you needed.

Your pussy began clenching around his dick, your orgasm nearing and moans increasing, he kept his pace and underneath the helmet he was a mess, moaning and cursing because of how good your pussy felt. “è una bella merda, tesoro” (thats that good shit baby) He moaned deeply. Even though your legs were shaking and you couldn’t control your moans he kept going. Pace now increasing and still not leaving your clit alone. You were being so overstimulated but it never felt so fucking good.

He pulled out but before you could even say anything you were roughly flipped over onto your stomach and pulled back, legs reaching the floor lifting your ass up and slamming right back into your pussy. Screaming moan leaving your mouth “FUCK THEO MM”. Your screams only encouraging his behavior making him go even harder, hitting far and deep you were a mess and he was going feral.

He reached his hand forward grabbing onto your jaw shoving two of his fingers into your mouth yanking you back forcing you to arch, he leaned forward his helmet barley in view but enough for you to get turned on some more, his dick was driving you insane. “You’re so wet mm” he moaned “Fuck im gonna cum again Theo!!” You announced as you collapsed back down to the bed, nothing changing but him holding your hips up to continue fucking.

Your eyes were rolling back and you were feeling nothing but numb pleasure going dumb. “Cum for me good girl, mm fuck” “I love your pussy..” He stroked deeply “..and i love how much of a needy whore you are for me” He stroked harder and quicker “..and mm I fucking love.. filling you up” He moaned his last words feeling his cum shoot deep into your pussy unexpectedly making you moan. “Fuck theoo”.

He gently pulled out and spread your pussy lips watching intently as his thick white cum dripped out. Finally walking over to the side table and getting tissues to clean you off. “Now to take this off and get you properly cleaned up” He removed the helmet and he was sweating underneath which was also attractive to you. “Fuck it was hot in there but fuck that was hot” He laughed and you laughed along “That was definitely fucking hot. We need to do it again sometimee” You laughed again.

He lifted you off the bed and brought you into the bathroom sitting you down onto the toilet and starting up a warm bath “Any of your cute soaps today love?” He asked while looking through your box of bath bombs “Hmm, surprise me” You smiled at him and he went to looking. “This one’s perfect” He plopped in the only all black one that is definitely going to stain the tub.

He helped you into the bath and got into the shower next to you, being able to see him was funny but it’s just from the stomach up so it’s not much of a show. You sat there relaxing watching the water drip down his muscled back and felt content after that entire thing. This was most definitely needed.

Hopefully you enjoyed that<33 I know i’ve been gone for a bit but writes block LOL anywho im not sure how this is so lmk!!!

Masterlist

[heeluvv]

sunoo showing his members that he’s not just a subby boy .. 💭

lowkey didn’t know how i wanted to play this out but i did it this way and im not mad at it so i hope you like it bb

SUBBY.ᐟ

pairing ᝰ.ᐟ bsf/close friend! kim sunoo x reader

warnings ᝰ.ᐟ oral (f), unprotected sex, fingering, soft!dom sunoo, teasing, etc.

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.

the room buzzed with laughter, the warm glow of the living room lights casting a cozy atmosphere over your small gathering. the idea of going out had been quickly shut down by your friends, who whined about the hassle and convinced you to just stay in. you didn’t mind—it was nice having them over, sprawled across your couch and floor, snacking on whatever was in your kitchen while exchanging playful banter. the energy was lighthearted, filled with inside jokes and teasing remarks that never failed to keep the mood alive.

amidst the usual chatter, a certain conversation piqued your interest—who among you was the most dominant? it started as a joke, with everyone throwing names into the mix, ranking each other based on their supposed presence and personality. unsurprisingly, sunoo kept ending up at the bottom of the list, a fact that only fueled the amusement of the group.

“you guys really think i’m not dominant enough?” sunoo scoffed, crossing his arms as he scanned everyone with a sharp gaze, his brows lifting in challenge.

“you just seem more like a submissive, sunoo,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as the others quickly nodded in agreement.

a brief silence followed before he clicked his tongue, an unreadable smirk playing on his lips. “you guys have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shaking his head.

the laughter only grew louder.

“i mean, we aren’t lying, sunoo. every time y/n gives you even the slightest compliment, you get so flustered,” jake teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back against the couch. “only submissive like to be called good boy…”

his words sent a ripple of laughter through the group, their amusement only growing as sunoo’s expression shifted. but he wasn’t embarrassed, nor was he angry. no—he saw this as a challenge.

his posture straightened, and the playful glint in his eyes darkened into something more serious. “you want me to prove it to you all?” his voice was smooth, almost daring, his confidence oozing through the sudden change in demeanor.

the room fell into a brief silence, the shift in his energy palpable. your eyes widened at the sheer duality, the effortless way he transitioned from lighthearted banter to something almost intimidating. it sent an unexpected chill down your spine.

jungwon, breaking the silence, tilted his head curiously. “i mean… how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

he glanced at the others for backup, but instead of answering, they simply exchanged amused looks before turning their attention toward you.

your breath hitched. why were they looking at you?

it was no secret that you felt completely at ease around them. there was an unspoken comfort in their presence, a familiarity that blurred the lines of personal space. you had never been the type to overthink things—changing in front of them felt natural, effortless, something you never put much thought into. it wasn’t like you were trying to make a statement; it was just how things were.

when you were home alone, the idea of throwing on extra layers felt unnecessary. walking around in just an oversized shirt, barely caring whether you had pants on, was second nature. so when they showed up unannounced—something they did often—you never felt the need to scramble for modesty. they had seen you like this before, countless times, and it had never been an issue.

but there was something about those fleeting moments that felt different. you weren’t oblivious—you noticed the way their gazes lingered, the way conversations would momentarily stall when you stretched or adjusted your clothes absentmindedly. they never said anything, never crossed a boundary, yet there was an undeniable weight in the air whenever it happened.

you never initiated anything, and neither did they. it was a silent understanding, an unspoken game where the tension simmered just beneath the surface. yet, even when their eyes betrayed their thoughts, you simply carried on as you always did—pretending not to notice, even though you always did.

“what?”

the single word left your lips before you could stop it, your voice laced with confusion, yet there was something else lurking beneath it—curiosity. this had caught you completely off guard. they were actually trying to initiate something now, and all for the sake of proving a point.

but was that really all it was?

a part of you should have been skeptical, maybe even hesitant. yet, deep down, you didn’t mind. because as much as you were aware of their lingering stares—the way their eyes would subtly (or sometimes not so subtly) trace the shape of your body in moments like these—you were equally guilty. maybe you hadn’t realized it at first, or maybe you had and just pretended otherwise, but the truth was undeniable.

your own gaze had a habit of betraying you. the way your eyes fixated a little too long on their lips when they spoke, how your focus would drift to the veins on their hands as they flexed absentmindedly. and then there were the times they stayed over, disappearing into the bathroom only to reemerge, steam still clinging to their skin, towel slung dangerously low on their hips, droplets of water trailing down their bare torso.

you told yourself it was nothing, just fleeting glances, harmless observations. but they noticed. every single time.

you weren’t the only one watching.

“i think you know what, y/n…” sunoo’s voice was smooth, deliberate, as he leaned back against the couch. the confidence in his posture was undeniable—his legs spread wider, his hands resting lazily on his thighs, fingers drumming against the fabric as he studied you. his gaze held something unreadable, something daring. “but of course… only if you let me.”

your breath hitched, your mind racing with endless possibilities. was this a mistake? would this change everything between you all? would it create distance or pull you even closer? the weight of uncertainty pressed against your chest, but despite all the questions, there was one undeniable truth—you wanted to know.

it was reckless, maybe even dangerous, but you couldn’t help the way curiosity clawed at you, the way something deep inside you itched for the answer. was it wrong to entertain these thoughts? perhaps. but could you really fault yourself for being human?

and then there was sunoo himself. was he truly as submissive as everyone assumed? or was this his way of proving you all wrong?

your throat felt dry as you swallowed down the lingering hesitation, your heart hammering in anticipation.

“o-okay…” you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice.

you felt the shift instantly, a change so abrupt it sent a shiver down your spine. sunoo’s entire demeanor had shifted, his usual playful, almost teasing nature now replaced by something much more assertive—something that left you momentarily stunned. his gaze, once filled with amusement, was now sharp, unwavering, laced with an intensity you weren’t used to seeing from him.

“come here.”

his voice was steady, almost commanding, as he patted his lap, the simple gesture sending a wave of anticipation through you.

your breath hitched, hesitating for only a second before your body moved on its own. your legs carried you forward, and before you knew it, you were settling onto his lap, straddling him with a mix of hesitation and something far more dangerous—curiosity.

his hands found your hips effortlessly, fingers resting firmly yet not forcefully, grounding you in place. the heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your clothes, sending a subtle thrill through your body. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing—just waiting, letting you feel the weight of the moment.

his eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, but his voice was softer this time. “you can always back out of this, y/n.”

it wasn’t a warning. it was a reassurance. a reminder that despite the shift, despite the unknown that lay ahead, you still held all the control.

“no, it’s fine…” you murmured, your voice steadier than you expected. your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt as you nodded, reaffirming your words. “i want to…”

those three words seemed to settle something deep within sunoo, dissolving whatever lingering hesitation he might have had. this wasn’t just about proving a point anymore—he wanted to know if you were truly comfortable with this, if you were letting him in willingly. and, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to do this in a way that wouldn’t just satisfy his need to prove something, but would also leave you wanting more.

his hands glided down slowly, palms warm as they traced the curve of your waist before settling against your thighs. his touch was firm but not demanding, the heat of his fingers seeping through the thin fabric, igniting something beneath your skin.

his dark eyes never left yours, a silent exchange passing between you both, more powerful than any words he could offer. he didn’t need to say anything—his gaze alone told you everything. a question, a reassurance, and something deeper, something unreadable but undeniably there.

one hand remained firm on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make you hyperaware of his touch, while the other reached up, cradling the side of your face with a gentleness that sent a shiver down your spine. he guided you down effortlessly, his thumb grazing your cheek as he closed the space between you, his lips finally meeting yours.

the kiss started slow—steady and controlled, as if he was savoring the moment, testing the waters. his lips moved against yours with purpose, the pressure just right, his warmth enveloping you in a way that sent your mind reeling.

never in your life did you think this would happen. the thought alone felt almost surreal, the realization that you were kissing one of your closest friends sending a spark of disbelief through you. but any hesitation, any second-guessing, melted away the moment he deepened the kiss.

his grip on your thigh tightened slightly as his lips moved with more intensity, more certainty, pulling you in as if he refused to let you second-guess this moment. the soft, controlled movements gave way to something deeper, something more urgent, as if he wanted to prove himself with each press of his lips against yours.

and you let him.

because despite the initial shock, despite the blur of emotions crashing over you, there was one undeniable truth—you wanted this just as much as he did.

his lips wandered downward, leaving a burning trail along the sensitive skin of your neck. each kiss was deliberate, his movements slow yet calculated, as if he wanted you to feel every second of it. his lips parted slightly, the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin before he latched on, sucking gently at first before his teeth grazed over the spot, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body.

your breath hitched, fingers tightening against his shoulders, but he didn’t falter—not once. instead, his hands moved with purpose, fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt before he gripped it firmly, wasting no time in tugging it over your head. the fabric barely had a chance to hit the floor before you felt the weight of their stares.

there you sat, bare before them all—only your red lace panties keeping you somewhat covered. the cool air kissed your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body, the rush of vulnerability mixing with something far more intoxicating.

sunoo’s eyes darkened, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he took in the sight before him.

“fuck…” he muttered, his voice low, almost breathless.

the single word hung heavy in the air, thick with desire, with anticipation. and in that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just about proving a point anymore.

your hands instinctively move to cover yourself, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you under the weight of their heated stares. the intensity in their eyes—dark, unreadable, filled with something primal—makes your skin prickle with awareness.

but sunoo is quick to act.

his fingers wrap around your wrists before you can fully shield yourself, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulls your hands away. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with something that makes your breath hitch.

“keep them down.”

his voice is steady, commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

your fingers curl into the fabric of the couch, your pulse hammering in anticipation as his attention shifts downward. his eyes linger, drinking in the sight before him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as if restraining himself.

his mouth finds you without hesitation, lips wrapping around one peak as a sharp gasp escapes you. the warmth of his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin sends a shiver down your spine, your body reacting instantly to the sensation. he doesn’t hold back, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, his teeth grazing you ever so slightly before his tongue soothes over the spot.

a soft moan slips past your lips, your back arching slightly as your fingers dig into the couch, trying to ground yourself against the flood of sensation overtaking you.

he hums against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your waist.

he’s enjoying this—enjoying the way you react, the way your body responds so easily to him. and you? you’re completely at his mercy.

the room is thick with tension, the kind that settles deep in your bones, making every breath feel heavier. the others just sit there, too stunned to speak, their eyes locked onto you—onto the way sunoo’s mouth moves against your skin, claiming every inch of you with slow, deliberate sucks. the heat of his tongue flicking over each peak sends jolts of pleasure straight through your body, your back arching instinctively, seeking more.

the ache between your legs only grows, pulsing, desperate for relief. your hips move on their own, rolling forward, grinding against the growing bulge beneath you. the friction is intoxicating, making your breath hitch, a soft, needy moan escaping before you can stop it. the sensation is everything you’ve been craving, sending a sharp spark of pleasure right where you need it most.

but just as quickly as it comes, it’s taken away.

sunoo’s hands grip your waist, stilling your movements in an instant, his fingers digging in just enough to make his point. his lips leave your skin, glistening, his gaze meeting yours with a dangerous mix of control and amusement.

“you take what i give.”

his voice is low, firm, laced with authority that sends a shiver down your spine. his grip doesn’t loosen, his presence completely consuming, demanding your submission with nothing more than a look.

your breathing is uneven, your body still trembling from the denied pleasure, but the challenge in his tone makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

“please, sunoo…” you whimper, your voice barely above a breath, laced with desperation. your fingers dig into his shoulders, your body trembling as his fingertips lazily trace over the thin fabric covering your aching core.

he doesn’t rush—no, he takes his time, barely applying any pressure, just the softest, teasing flicks against your clothed clit. the sensation is maddening, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through you, but never enough to satisfy the throbbing need building inside you.

a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, his lips curling into a smirk as he watches you squirm beneath his touch. “you sound so pretty begging for me, baby…” his voice is smooth, laced with amusement, but there’s something deeper beneath it—something dark, something possessive.

his words send a shiver down your spine, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. you moan at the praise, eyes fluttering shut as the ache intensifies, your pussy clenching helplessly around nothing.

you need more—so much more—but sunoo just keeps up his agonizing pace, barely giving you what you want, dragging out every second, watching as your desperation grows.

“look at you,” he muses, his fingers pressing just a little harder, enough to make your breath hitch. “so needy, and i’ve barely even touched you.”

he moves before you can even process it. with effortless strength, he lifts you off his lap, his hands gripping your waist as he shifts positions. a startled gasp escapes you as he tosses you gently onto the couch, the plush cushions cushioning your fall.

your body barely has time to react before he’s kneeling between your legs, his presence dominating the space between you. his hands are steady, deliberate, as they hook into the waistband of your lace panties, dragging them down in one slow, tantalizing motion. the cool air kisses your exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine as your underwear is discarded somewhere onto the floor.

his breath hitches, a low, appreciative grunt escaping his lips as he takes in the sight of you—completely bare before him. a moment of silence hangs in the air, heavy and charged, before you hear the sharp intake of breath from the others.

“i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby…” his voice is a smooth promise, dripping with intent, his fingertips brushing along the inside of your thighs as he spreads them wider, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze.

his eyes darken as he drinks in the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he groans at the sheer view.

“and while i do that,” he continues, his tone firm, unwavering. his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with something dangerous, something commanding. “i want you to look at them.”

your breath stutters.

his words settle deep within you, igniting something raw, something forbidden. your eyes flicker toward the others, who are still watching, still mesmerized by the scene unfolding before them.

the weight of their gazes only makes the heat between your legs burn hotter.

sunoo starts slow, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs, leaving a trail of delicate, teasing kisses. each press of his lips is unhurried, deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of you before he even reaches his destination. the heat of his breath fans over your sensitive skin, making your muscles twitch in anticipation.

he inches up, closer and closer, until he’s face to face with your aching core. your slickness glistens under the dim light, coating your folds, an unspoken invitation that makes his breath hitch. his fingers move with purpose, spreading you open, exposing every delicate inch of you to his hungry gaze.

your body jolts at the sensation, a sharp gasp slipping past your lips. “s-sunoo…” you whimper, your voice trembling, thick with need.

but before you can say anything else, he’s on you.

his lips crash against your pussy with a fervor that makes your head spin, tongue immediately delving between your folds, collecting every bit of your arousal in his mouth. he groans at the taste, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making your back arch off the couch.

his tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deep, indulgent licks. he devours you like he’s been starving for this moment, his grip tightening on your thighs as he pulls you closer, burying himself deeper.

the sounds—the wet, sinful noises of his mouth working against you, the soft gasps and moans spilling from your lips—fill the room, adding to the thick, unbearable tension that already lingers.

your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting as soft, breathy moans spill from them. the sensation of his tongue working against you is almost overwhelming, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your fingers tangle in the cushions beneath you, grasping for something—anything—to keep yourself grounded as he pleases you so effortlessly.

but just as you begin to sink into the bliss, a sharp sting blossoms across your thigh, the sudden smack making you jolt. a gasp rips from your throat, your eyes snapping open in shock as heat radiates from the spot where his hand just struck.

“what did i tell you?” sunoo’s voice is smooth, yet firm, holding an edge of authority that makes your stomach twist.

his dark eyes flick up to meet yours, his lips glistening with your slickness, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watches your reaction. his fingers trail over the place he just struck, soothing the warmth left behind, before giving your thigh another sharp squeeze.

“keep your eyes on them.”

his words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body responding instinctively, thighs trembling slightly beneath his grip. he waits, watching you expectantly, making sure you obey before diving back in, his tongue resuming its torturous, sinful pace.

you obey him without hesitation, your eyes barely able to stay open as pleasure crashes over you in waves. your expression is completely undone—lips parted, swollen from where you’ve been biting them, brows furrowed in pure, unfiltered bliss. every nerve in your body is on fire, every muscle tensed in anticipation of what’s coming next.

his mouth latches onto your clit with a sudden, intense suction that makes your back arch off the couch, a sharp moan ripping from your throat. the wet warmth of his tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling before he sucks harshly again, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

just when you think you can’t take any more, his fingers press against your entrance, teasingly circling before slowly pushing inside. the stretch is delicious, his fingers sinking into you with ease, the slickness of your arousal making it effortless. he groans against you, the vibrations only adding to the unbearable pleasure as he starts to move—slow at first, testing, before curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that has your entire body trembling.

“fuck, s-sunoo..” your voice is broken, shaky, barely coherent as you clutch onto the couch for dear life.

he hums against your clit, clearly pleased with your reaction, his fingers picking up their pace, thrusting into you deeper, harder, his mouth never once relenting.

the coil in your stomach tightens dangerously, the pleasure building rapidly, threatening to consume you whole.

“sunoo—sunoo, please!” you cry out, your voice breaking between moans as his fingers continue their relentless pace, plunging into you with precision, each thrust leaving you breathless. the wet, sinful sounds of your arousal echo through the room, only adding to the intensity of the moment. your walls flutter around his fingers, clenching down instinctively as that familiar, burning heat coils deep in your stomach, warning you that you’re teetering on the edge.

“fuck, sunoo—i’m gonna cum! i—i can’t—” your words come out in desperate gasps, your entire body trembling as the pleasure builds unbearably.

but instead of giving in, he chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot as he murmurs, “aww, you wanna cum, baby?” his voice is smooth, teasing, completely unfazed by your desperation.

his fingers don’t slow—not even for a second. if anything, he moves even faster, driving them deeper, curling them just right until your legs are shaking around him. and then, just when you think you can’t take anymore, his thumb comes down on your swollen clit, pressing down before rubbing harsh, relentless circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. the sudden overstimulation makes your back arch off the couch, a sharp, broken moan ripping from your throat.

but just as your release is within reach, just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he suddenly tightens his grip on your thigh, voice dropping into a firm, commanding tone.

“you’re gonna hold it.”

your eyes widen in pure, helpless agony. “w-what?” your voice is a wrecked whimper, your body on fire, teetering dangerously on the brink of pleasure.

he smirks, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he watches you squirm, your desperation only fueling him more. “you heard me. you’re not cumming until i say so.”

your body betrays you, clenching around his fingers, desperate for relief, but he gives you none. instead, he continues his ruthless pace, dragging you further into the agonizing high without letting you fall over the edge.

“fuck—no, sunoo! i can’t—please!” you cry out, your voice breaking into a desperate sob as your body trembles uncontrollably beneath his touch. your hands clutch at the cushions, fingers curling into the fabric like a lifeline, your entire body writhing under the intensity of his movements. your legs shake violently, barely able to keep still as he continues his merciless assault, his fingers plunging in and out of you at a brutal pace, stretching you, filling you, driving you to the very edge of insanity.

your chest rises and falls in frantic breaths, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the sheer overstimulation. every muscle in your body is taut, coiled so tightly it feels like you might snap at any moment. the unbearable pleasure surges through you in waves, an inferno burning deep in your core, desperate for release. but he won’t let you.

“aww, poor baby…” sunoo coos, his voice laced with mock sympathy, though the amusement in his tone betrays his true intentions. his dark eyes glint with satisfaction as he watches you unravel, drinking in the sight of your helpless state. he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “i don’t care.”

his words send a sharp jolt of heat straight through you, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the sweet torture he’s inflicting.

his fingers curl inside you again, hitting that perfect spot with unrelenting precision, his thumb still circling your clit in fast, ruthless strokes. your legs twitch, your moans turning into broken sobs as you shake beneath him, completely at his mercy.

he’s enjoying this—enjoying the way you fall apart in his hands, how utterly wrecked you are for him.

his movements halt abruptly, leaving you panting, teetering on the edge of a release he refuses to grant. before you can even catch your breath, he shifts you effortlessly, guiding your body to lay flat against the plush cushions of the couch. his touch is firm but careful, positioning you exactly how he wants—spread out, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

his hands move with purpose, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt. in one smooth motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing the toned expanse of his torso. his skin glows under the dim lighting, his prominent abs flexing slightly as he breathes. the sight alone sends another rush of heat pooling between your legs, your thighs instinctively pressing together in anticipation.

but he isn’t done.

his fingers work their way down, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness, as if savoring every second of your hungry gaze trailing over his body. the fabric slides down his hips, along with his boxers, pooling at his feet before he kicks them away carelessly.

and then he’s bare.

his cock springs free, hard and thick, the tip glistening with arousal. the sight alone makes your breath hitch, your mouth going dry as your thighs clench involuntarily. he watches your reaction, his lips curling into a smirk, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“like what you see, baby?” he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he strokes himself lazily, letting you take in every inch of him.

he moves over you with a predatory grace, his body hovering just inches above yours, the heat radiating from his skin making your breath hitch. his hands find your face, fingers cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasts the hunger in his gaze. his thumb strokes your flushed skin before he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, consuming kiss.

his lips move against yours with raw intensity, swallowing your soft whimpers as his tongue teases its way into your mouth. the taste of him, warm and intoxicating, sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you, your fingers instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer.

a low groan rumbles from his chest as he breaks the kiss, his breath fanning against your lips. without another word, his hand wraps around his cock, fisting it slowly, the slick head brushing against your soaked folds. the contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, a shaky gasp escaping as he drags himself along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

“fuck…” he grunts, his voice low, strained, the friction making his hips jerk slightly. his cock slides against your clit with every slow stroke, the sensation making your thighs twitch as your body craves more.

he watches your face closely, drinking in every reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every soft gasp that falls from your lips. he’s teasing, taking his time, savoring the feeling of you beneath him, knowing damn well how much you need him to just give in.

before you can even process it, he pushes in—slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch as he stretches you open. the sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has your breath hitching, your fingers curling into the couch beneath you. your walls clench instinctively around him, the tightness drawing a deep, guttural groan from his throat.

“shit…” he breathes out, his voice strained, laced with pure pleasure as he sinks deeper, his cock disappearing inch by inch inside you.

his arms move beneath yours, caging you in, his hands pressing firmly against the cushions just above your shoulders. his body is flush against yours, the warmth of his skin pressing into you, grounding you in the moment.

he dips his head down, his lips ghosting over your neck before pressing soft, lingering kisses against your heated skin. each kiss is slow, almost tender, a stark contrast to the overwhelming fullness stretching you apart. his breath is hot against your pulse, his lips trailing up toward your jaw, as if whispering silent reassurances between each soft peck.

his hips still momentarily, letting you adjust, his thumbs stroking soothing circles against your skin. but the way his fingers tense against the couch, the way his breathing grows heavier, tells you he’s barely holding back.

his hips start to move, and though his initial thrusts are measured, controlled, it doesn’t last. the way your walls cling to him, squeezing him with every inch he sinks into you, has his restraint snapping almost instantly. his movements quickly become rougher, more urgent, each deep thrust slamming into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air.

the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and desperate moans that spill from your lips. the pleasure is overwhelming, each stroke hitting deep, sending shockwaves through your body. your legs react instinctively, wrapping tightly around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as your fingers claw at his back, nails digging into the firm muscles beneath your touch.

“sunoo!” you cry out, your voice breaking into a scream of pleasure as he angles his hips just right, dragging against that sensitive spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

his breath is ragged, hot against your ear as he groans, his grip on the cushions tightening as he pounds into you without mercy. “shit, baby… you’re so fucking tight…” his voice is thick with lust, raw and strained, as if he’s barely holding himself together.

his pace only quickens, his thrusts growing deeper, rougher, his body pressing you further into the couch as he loses himself in the way you feel around him. every roll of his hips sends sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins, building that tight coil in your stomach, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“look at you, taking my dick so well, baby…” sunoo groans, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes locked onto the sight of you beneath him. the way your body takes every relentless thrust, the way your walls squeeze him so perfectly—it has his head spinning. his hips don’t slow, not even for a second, driving into you with an unrelenting pace that has you seeing stars.

“fuuuckk—yes, sunoo!” you cry out, your body arching beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming, intoxicating. every thrust hits deeper, harder, sending waves of euphoria crashing through you, your fingers digging into his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

his lips curl into a cocky smirk as he watches you unravel, completely lost in the pleasure he’s giving you. “love this dick already, baby?” he taunts, his breath hot against your lips, the teasing lilt in his voice only making the fire inside you burn hotter.

before you can even answer, his mouth crashes onto yours, stealing your breath, swallowing every moan, every whimper. his lips move with raw hunger, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as if he’s trying to consume you whole.

the way you taste—sweet, intoxicating—only fuels him more, makes him thrust into you even harder, his body completely consumed by the way you feel wrapped so tightly around him. he’s drowning in you, in this moment, in the way your bodies move together in perfect, reckless harmony.

he swears he’s never felt this high before—never felt anything like this. it’s addicting. and he never wants to stop.

“fuuuckk—sunoo, i c-can’t—i c-can’t…” your voice is a desperate, broken whimper, your entire body trembling beneath him. every thrust sends you spiraling further, the pleasure so overwhelming it’s almost unbearable. your nails dig into his back, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

sunoo groans at the sound of your voice, the way you’re falling apart completely for him. his hips snap forward with relentless force, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to that inevitable peak. he can feel it—the way your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tighter, your body begging for release.

“fuck, baby—wanna cum?” his voice is thick with desire, breathless as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “you wanna cum for me?”

your head tilts back, a sob of pleasure escaping your lips as your entire body quivers beneath him. you’re teetering on the edge, dangling between sweet bliss and unbearable tension, your mind clouded with nothing but him—his touch, his voice, the way he’s completely consuming you.

“p-please—please, fuck—please!” you beg, your voice wrecked, desperate, pleading for the release you so desperately need.

his fingers tighten their grip on your shoulders, his breath ragged against your skin as he thrusts into you harder, deeper, his own control beginning to fray. “cum for me, baby,” he growls, his voice dark, commanding. “let go.”

a loud, uncontrollable cry rips from your throat as the pleasure crashes over you in violent, overwhelming waves. your entire body tenses, then completely unravels, trembling beneath him as the intense release takes hold.

and then it happens.

the sharp, wet sound fills the air as your climax bursts forth, a powerful spray soaking both you and sunoo. the sudden gush makes your mind go blank, your vision blurring as your body convulses with the force of your orgasm.

gasps echo through the room—the others watching in stunned silence, eyes wide as they take in the sight of you, completely wrecked, completely undone.

sunoo freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, before a deep, guttural moan tears from his lips. his jaw goes slack, his eyes darkening as he watches the way you squirt against him, your slickness dripping down his abs, coating his cock in a way that has his entire body trembling.

“fuck, baby…” he groans, his voice hoarse, filled with pure, raw hunger. the sensation of your release against him, the warmth, the wetness—it drives him wild, makes his hips jerk forward on instinct, as if chasing the feeling of you unraveling beneath him.

your legs shake violently, your hands grasping at anything—his shoulders, the cushions, his arms—as you sob out his name, your entire body still pulsing from the aftershocks.

“sunoo!” your voice is desperate, breathless, your head tilting back as you ride out the high, waves of pleasure still coursing through your veins.

and sunoo? he looks completely mesmerized—completely addicted to the sight of you falling apart just for him.

“fuck—i’m gonna cum, oh shit!” sunoo grunts, his voice rough, breathless, completely lost in the intensity of his release.

his movements grow erratic, hips stuttering as he pulls out at the last second, his hand immediately wrapping around his cock. his strokes are fast, desperate, chasing his high as his chest rises and falls in rapid pants.

a deep, guttural moan rips from his throat as he spills onto your stomach, thick ropes of cum painting your skin as his body jerks with each pulse. his grip on himself tightens, milking every last drop as his head tilts back, his mouth falling open in a silent moan, completely lost in the pleasure overtaking him.

“shit…” he exhales, voice raspy, his body still trembling from the force of his orgasm.

his dark, hooded eyes trail down to the mess he’s made on you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches his release drip down your stomach, glistening against your flushed skin.

without hesitation, his fingers dip into the creamy warmth, gathering his cum onto his fingertips before bringing them to your lips.

“suck.”

his command is firm, unwavering, his gaze locked onto yours, waiting. his fingers press lightly against your bottom lip, smearing the mess against your soft skin, teasing you—daring you.

his breathing is still uneven, his body still humming with the remnants of pleasure, but the hunger in his eyes hasn’t faded. if anything, it’s only grown darker.

you comply without hesitation, parting your lips as his fingers slide past them, pressing against your tongue. the warm, salty taste of him coats your taste buds, and a soft, involuntary moan escapes your throat at the sensation. your tongue swirls around his fingers, sucking lightly, savoring the way he watches you—his gaze dark, filled with something unreadable, something possessive.

his breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes. your lips wrap tighter around his fingers, your tongue pressing against the ridges of his knuckles before you slowly pull back, letting them slip from your mouth with a soft pop.

the room is thick with heat, the only sound filling the space being the heavy breathing between the both of you. your skin is damp with sweat, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and yet the weight of what just happened lingers in the air.

then, sunoo smirks, breaking the silence with a breathy chuckle.

“am i subby now?”

natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ hoped you liked it !!

[abbysreal-wife]

She’s at your window

She

⋆˙⟡ I just wanna talk and conversate

‘Cause I usually just stalk you and masturbate.

— Tyler The Creator

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Stalker!Abby x Fem!Reader

Summary:: Shes obsessed with you. She thinks you don’t even know she exist. Or do you?

Tags:: Masturbation & stalking (so yeah☺️)

A/n:: TELL ME HOW I DID GUYS ITS MY FIRST FIC

She had cameras. Everywhere.

She was obsessed. Everywhere you were, she was. Everytime you would be doing something she would be watching over you. It’s terrifying, you guys glanced once at each other during a party, then again. At your local coffee shop.

You were everywhere in her mind, she can’t get over you. I mean, you guys haven’t even said one word to each other and here she is, obsessing over a girl who doesn’t know she exists.

She would’ve never thought her obsession would get this bad, she found your socials, your address, old school pictures, baby pictures, your favorite thing to order from your local coffee shop, your favorite food, hell, she even found out your favorite color.

So, every night she watches you through the cameras installed into your home by her (don’t ask how she got in). She watches your every move, the way you walk, those hips, the way you laugh while on the phone with your friends, completely oblivious from the fact she was watching you.

Her face completely flushed and pink, she was embarrassed, not at you but, the fact how she didn’t have the courage to just walk up to you and talk. You were the sweetest most precious girl ever.

Well, one night you had gotten out the shower and of course, Abby had been watching you. so memorized she didn’t notice the fact that she was ruining her sheets with the arousal of her own pussy.

She was aching, practically throbbing in her boxers watching you change into your clothes, clipping your bra behind your back, sliding on a tank, i mean, it’s nothing new you do it every night. but this night, this night was different.

“Bra, Tank top, Panties, shorts.” she thought to herself, she memorized your night routine, but tonight it was different, you didn’t put on panties, “What?” she whispered to herself. she shifted in her bed looking closer. you didn’t forget, nope, you did it on purpose instead of panties you just slid on your shorts and hopped into bed.

That’s weird, you always put on panties.

Well, she was gonna figure out pretty soon why you didn’t.

⋆˙⟡—————————————————————⋆˙⟡

She was shook.

You were just shameless, she never even knew you had this side to you. your back was arching off the bed your sheets were soaked your were moaning and whining like nobody’s business. And your pussy was just.. Out.

“Oh! f-fuck..” you moaned out. Abby was biting and picking at her lips, she was just watching you, pleasure yourself. It felt wrong, but i mean, she did put cameras in your house so.

“ ‘m gonna cum!!” you cried out, abby just expected for your eyes to roll back into your head, your jaw go slack, and your legs lock up, like the other two times.

Instead. you cried out a name.

“Abby.. fuck!”

Her eyes had widened, she looked baffled.

she choked “What?..”

⋆˙⟡—————————————————————⋆˙⟡

A/n: sorry this is kinda short i was rushing and it’s my first fic!!!! sorry if i have bad grammar i’m trying okay?…☹️☹️💔

@graciedollie (my only mention for now)

[fishnapple]

What can bring true satisfaction to your heart?

Let's end this year by hearing what your heart yearns for. And also trying out my new AAB (Animal Advisory Board) set for divination ✨️

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ORANGE

On the surface level, what feels like satisfaction for you is recognition for your hard work. You feel a sense of lack when it comes to your material possessions, that that sense of lack can affect your sense of self greatly. You could feel that the more you have, the more confident and safe you are, you find safety in a familiar physical world. Working, earning money, and then being recognised for your effort can elevate your "worth" in this world, or so you believe. And being worthy is the solid proof of existence and meaning. But you will soon find that in chasing success and recognition, you risk burning out and losing your vitality, your jest for life. Being too focused on a goal, a task can narrow your perspective and make you feel like life is just a race, a competition. You want to show your best, to be known as the most hard working person, the one who contributes the most, the one who can take on any tasks without fear, the one who shines the brightest. Life seems like a stage where you have to perform constantly, even when you're alone, your actions are being observed by an invisible audience.

But your inner self disagrees with that approach, and it will demand a change from you. You can't keep running in "the race" forever because there's simply no race for you to run, just a life for you to be in and to live. A part of you is sleeping, latent inspirations are trapped inside without the means to be expressed. It's quite contradictory, on the outside, you look so busy and active, always doing something, but on the inside, the energy is stagnant and inactive. This feeling will continue to pile up until you can't take it anymore and want to burst out, to take off. The feeling of true freedom, of flying for the first time will open up a floodgate inside you, you will begin to nurture a different perspective, you will want to slow down your run and look around, suddenly you will find so many interesting things around you that you haven't noticed before.

By being free, you will also have a different view on relationships. Your heart yearns for freedom, freedom to be yourself, and freedom to love. You will want to bond deeply with people, to seek comfort in the emotional sense, not in the physical sense anymore. You seek true understanding, of yourself, of the other person and the world you live in. Deep connections can bring the most satisfaction, something that you might have been oblivious to up until now. You won't seek recognition from the general crowd anymore, you will seek the transparency of being seen completely by a loved one.

WHITE

For this group, I see a lot of images about predators attacking prey. This can mean that you are having contradictory thoughts and feelings inside yourself, like an inner critic, always watching and judging your every wish and action. This creates lots of unnecessary fears in you, you're held prisoner by your own mind. You desire many different things, or said in a different way, many different things can bring you satisfaction, but they can be at odds with each other. The solution for you is to go ahead and do them anyway, no matter how much your mind protest or try to "talk" you out of it, which sometimes can be in a really aggressive way. Your mind can create visions of people ridicule or criticise you for your decisions. What you need to do is triumph over those visions, shoo them away, and just do what you instinctively feel drawn to do and then see for yourself, with you own eyes, the actual outcome, only then will you have solid "proof" to chase away those intrusive thoughts in your mind. For you, getting over your myriad fears will be your biggest achievement and satisfaction. For every victory over your fear, no matter how small, you deserve to get a pat on your back. Be gentle with yourself, but firm enough to give yourself a chance to grow.

About your many desires, one is about receiving and giving love. You might just focus on romance and dating right now, without much serious thought about a long-term commitment and building a family with someone. But in the future, when you allow yourself to grow more and gain new perspectives, the thought of commitment will naturally arise in you. You won't just desire love and affection alone, you also desire a place to call home, a place where someone will be there to welcome you. You will want to nurture someone, and be nurtured back, work for the connection, and see your effort grow into a deep bond. You're working hard right now, but mostly to build your own foundation, later in life, you will want to work hard to build that foundation with another person. Your heart will flourish in the nurturing environment of a steady relationship.

For now, just focus your energy on getting to know yourself, every nook and cranny. Come to your rescue when your mind begins to nag, especially when you want to rest and contemplate hidden things behind the veil of mundane life. Use your resting time to let your mind explore foreign subjects, coax it gently when it tries to resist learning new things. The more you explore, the more your mind will soar, the more your heart will feel tranquil and happy.

PINK

Does the question of whether the person you're attracted to romantically can also be your friend ever cross your mind? Or the question of whether that person can truly connect with you on a mental level? I see the people who chose this group are ardent lovers. The kind that would focus their all on a connection, passionate and gripping. You might be the person who loves falling in love, the feeling of romance and relationships brings you great joy. But the pitfall here is that you tend to idealise the other person and the connection to the point of overlooking some glaring incompatibilities. On a surface level, a person might seem fun and physically ideal to be your partner, but let some time pass and look closer, you will find that you don't really connect on a more deeper level. A telling sign would be that conversations are lacklustre, there's an uncomfortable silence between you, the subjects of the conversation are superficial. In the long run, this can create dissatisfaction in the relationship.

What you might not realise is that a deep bond, especially forged over many conversations, is essential to your feeling of overall happiness about life. Friendship matters, even love should be built based upon friendship. Having many people who you can call friends is actually more satisfying than having many lovers, friends who come from many walks of life, from all around the world. Having a group of close friends who can go on adventures with you, who can nurture you, who can build you up, who can make your mind buzzing, who can be your family, that's what brings true satisfaction to your heart.

Can you see the stag nipping at a tree while the peacock is facing the opposite direction? I think right now, the way you express yourself can be like a form of reaction to the specific person whom you're interacting with, rather than just communicating who you are in general. In conversations, you might try to act more cool, showing the best of yourself in order to build a favourable image, which is what all of us do to some degrees, consciously or not. But this shape-shifting energy can be detrimental to really connect with the other person. Instead of letting the other person provide you with 'nutrition' for your mind and heart, you're busy impressing them. This can happen in all your interactions, whether with strangers, acquaintances, friends, family, lovers. You should take a more relaxed approach, allowing the words to seep into you leisurely, building friendship as if growing a tree, then you will have a flourished heart.

GREEN

The word 'Success' has a lot of meanings to you, and all meanings have weight that defines your life. For you, being successful doesn't have to be about earning lots of money of being famous, though that is a part of the 'Success' that you pursue, it's not all. You want to leave behind your legacies, the proof that you exist, the proof that you have lived hard and well, that your life has meaning.

Throughout your life, you will encounter various stumbling blocks that require you to reinvent yourself, like ascending a stairway, each step bring your higher, closer to your ideals. You're willing to change yourself, to bring about a complete overhaul, allow yourself to play various roles, don many masks, life is a big stage and you're a magician, a jester or a seller, who always has something to dazzle and sell to the audience. This 'performance' is not fake or disingenuous at all, it's what you're born to do, to achieve prestige and finally reach the top of the stairway.

You have a core that's very malleable and agile, constantly moving, though it can help you be flexible and move through situations with ease, it can create an inner confusion. You feel like you have to be at all places, here and there, never settle down, forever swimming, nothing can hold you down and keep you in one place for long. This fuels your desire to find an anchor in the physical world. To know what you've done, what you've achieved, where you need to go. You need external structure and stability so that your internal spirit can swim freely. You can move a lot, but you need to feel a sense of home wherever you're. And that's not easy to achieve. But you have the knack to connect instantly with people, you can make the most distant stranger your friend in no time. The more people surround you, the safer you feel. Community and sense of camaraderie soothe you nomad heart. As long as you have people around you, everywhere can be your home.

And in that hope will you work your magic, working tirelessly to build your foundation. Even though your spirit is a nomad, constantly moving, you have trouble letting go of things and people, gradually, the stuff you pack with you gets more and more heavy, slowing you down. The challenge for you is to learn when to let go, to travel light. What your heart truly wants is the feeling of ascending the ladder, of knowing that you've done something meaningful and left a mark, of giving away the fruits of your labour, not the feeling of possessing and holding on to as many things as possible.

[syluslnd]

omg i love love love everything you’ve written! i cannot wait to read more! 🤭

can i please request … sylus finding out that mc/reader has a spine or lower back tattoo. i feel like he would go absolutely feral bc like he WOULD most definitely start imagining the view during backshots LOL

when he discovers your lower back tattoo

It was one of those quiet afternoons, just the two of you lounging around at home. You were rummaging through a drawer, your back to Sylus, completely oblivious to the way his gaze drifted over you. You bent down slightly, your shirt riding up just enough to reveal a glimpse of inked lines peeking from beneath the fabric, running down your spine.

He noticed instantly, his eyes sharpening as something shifted inside him. "Sweetie” he called, his voice smooth and a touch darker than usual.

You turned, barely getting the chance to respond before Sylus closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. Before you knew it, he had pinned you gently, guiding you to lie on the plush surface beneath you. Your stomach pressed against the cushions and his strong hands held your wrists above your head, keeping you in place.

"S-Sylus?" you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up as you sensed the change in his gaze.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he let his fingers trail to the edge of your shirt, lifting it slowly, carefully, until the full length of your spine tattoo was on display. His breath hitched slightly and you felt his gaze burning into your skin, like he was absorbing every detail, every line, of the intricate design that ran down your back.

"I had no idea” he murmured, a smirk curving his lips. "Hiding this from me, were you, kitten?"

You tried to twist to look at him, your cheeks bright red, but his grip on your wrists held firm. "I-I wasn't hiding it. You just... never saw it before” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled, low and rich, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers brushed over the tattoo, feather-light as he traced the lines, his touch leaving your skin tingling. "It suits you" he said softly, almost as if to himself. "So beautiful."

You felt a rush of warmth spread through you, your blush deepening as you sensed the intensity in his gaze, his voice full of admiration but also laced with something deeper. His hand slid down slowly, resting on the side of your waist as he leaned in, his lips grazing the back of your neck.

"Imagine how gorgeous you'd look from behind” he murmured, his voice a whisper that left your pulse racing. "With this perfect view of your back... and that beautiful tattoo all for me to admire."

You let out a shaky breath, unable to contain the way your skin prickled under his touch.

"Sylus..."

He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "What's wrong, kitten?" he teased, his voice soft but filled with a mischievous edge. "A little shy now, are we?"

You bit your lip, trying to hide your blush but there was no escaping the way he looked at you, like he was savoring every reaction, every soft breath you took. Finally, he released your wrists, letting his hands settle on your shoulders, his fingers gentle as he continued to study the tattoo.

"Next time” he whispered, his tone laced with promise, "you'll have to show it off for me properly. I want to appreciate every inch of it."

His words left you feeling breathless and he chuckled softly as he pulled back, letting you finally sit up, his smirk making it clear that he knew exactly how flustered he'd made you.

And from the look in his eyes, you had a feeling he'd be bringing it up again soon.

[lila-lou]

✨All over again - 3/4✨

Summary: After a crash leaves Dean with permanent memory loss, you’re nothing but a stranger to him now. Years of love, gone in an instant. But the hardest part isn’t that he forgot you, it’s that he doesn’t want to remember.

-requested-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst

Word Count: 7268

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Weeks went by since that night in the motel.

Nothing changed. Not in the way that mattered. Dean still didn’t remember. Still didn’t feel anything. But that didn’t mean nothing happened.

Every now and then, he’d find little pieces of you lingering in his space.

A shirt of yours in his room, tucked into the laundry pile like it had always belonged there. A picture of the two of you on his laptop—your wedding day, him in a suit, you in white, both of you looking so damn happy—staring back at him when he wasn’t expecting it.

And the worst part? The part that really messed him up? He wanted to feel something when he saw those things. But he didn’t. Not the way he was supposed to.

What he did notice, though, was you.

The way you moved. The way your jeans hugged your ass when you walked past him in the bunker, completely unaware of the way his eyes lingered longer than they should. The way your lips curled slightly when you were focused, deep in research.

Attraction? Yeah. That was still there. But love? That stubborn, all-consuming, you’re it for me kind of love? Still nothing. And you had stopped expecting it. By now, you weren’t mad anymore. Hurt? Yeah. Absolutely. But mad? No.

Because this wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t chosen to forget you. Hadn’t decided to lose the feelings he once had. And you knew that.

So, instead of fighting, instead of forcing something that wasn’t there, you just… let go. Not of him. But of the expectation. And somehow, that made things easier.

There were good days—days where you and Dean exchanged little stories, where you’d drop some random fact about something he used to love about you, but wrap it up in a joke, making it seem casual.

“You know, you used to love the way I ate pickles straight from the jar”, you had said once, grinning as you popped one into your mouth. “Said it was weirdly hot”.

Dean had snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, well. Still weird”.

But then, later that night, Sam caught him eating a damn pickle straight from the jar, brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out why the hell his body still craved it.

Little things like that.

Moments where you got along again.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t what it used to be. But it was something.

And at this point, it was either this—either learning to be around each other without breaking apart—or you leaving altogether. And neither of you wanted that. Even if you didn’t say it out loud.

Dean barely made it two steps into the bunker before he almost dropped the grocery bag in his hands. Because there you were. In the garage. Bent over in a downward-facing dog, your ass perfectly on display in those tight-ass yoga pants, completely unaware of your audience.

Dean’s dick twitched immediately. Son of a bitch.

His breath hitched, and for a second, he couldn’t even move—just stood there, frozen, his grip tightening around the bag like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Next to him, Sam sighed heavily. “Dude, seriously?”.

Dean blinked, tearing his eyes away for a brief moment, only to find Sam giving him the most unimpressed look imaginable. Dean didn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he nudged Sam, nodding toward you. “Are you seeing this?”.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I see it. Doesn’t mean I’m staring like a pervy teenager”.

Dean ignored him, still watching as you—completely oblivious, headphones in your ears—shifted effortlessly into another position, slipping down into a full split like it was nothing.

Dean’s breath caught. Oh, fuck. His jeans got even tighter.

“For the love of-”, Sam grumbled, shaking his head. “I still have to live with the fact that you told me very detailed, very visual stories about this exact thing after you two finally got together”.

Dean smirked, even as he struggled not to adjust himself in his jeans. “Well, you didn’t have to listen”.

“Oh, screw you. You wouldn’t shut up about it”.

Dean chuckled, but his eyes did not leave you. Because, shit. How had he ever gotten that. And how the hell had he forgotten?

His body was reacting again, the same way it had that night in the motel. The same way it had every time he got too close to you lately.

His mind? Still blank. But his body? His body knew exactly what it wanted. And right now, it wanted you.

Sam huffed, shifting the grocery bag in his hands before nudging Dean—hard. “Okay, enough, man. Let’s go”, he muttered, glaring at his brother like a fed-up parent.

Dean barely budged. “Dude, just—hang on”, he said, eyes still locked on you like he was hypnotized.

Sam groaned, rolling his eyes so hard they might’ve gotten stuck. “No, not hang on”, he shot back. “Let’s go. To the kitchen. Away from the garage. Away from you being a creepy asshole staring at your wife like a guy who hasn’t seen a woman in ten years”.

Dean finally blinked, turning his head just enough to glare at Sam. “Oh, shut up, dude. It’s not like I—”.

Sam gave him a flat look. “You literally almost dropped a bag of eggs because (Y/N) did a split. So yeah, you are being a perv”.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. “I was not—”.

“Oh, you were”.

Dean gritted his teeth, his jaw ticking, before turning back toward the garage.

You had moved into another stretch, arching your back just enough to press your ass up in a way that made Dean’s brain short-circuit all over again. His dick gave a very obvious pulse in his jeans, and suddenly, Sam was right. He needed to get the hell out of here.

Sam sighed, already sensing where Dean’s thoughts were going. “Come on, man. I don’t need to hear you bitch about being hard for the next three hours. Get your ass in the kitchen and eat a damn sandwich”.

Dean clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. “I hate you”, he muttered, adjusting the bag in his hands.

Dean grumbled something under his breath before finally turning away, following Sam toward the kitchen. But even as he walked away, even as he tried to push it out of his head, his mind wouldn’t stop replaying it.

The way you looked, the way you moved, the way his body fucking reacted like muscle memory. And for the first time since losing his memories, Dean wasn’t just frustrated. He was pissed. Because his body remembered loving you. So why the hell didn’t his mind?

An hour later, you walked into the kitchen, freshly showered, your damp hair pulled into a loose bun, wearing one of your usual oversized shirts and shorts.

Sam was at the stove, stirring something in a pan, the scent of garlic and spices filling the air. Dean was lingering near the counter, nursing a beer, but the second you stepped in, his body tensed—like it knew before his brain did.

His eyes flickered to you for a split second, then back to his bottle.

“Food’s almost ready”, Sam said, glancing over his shoulder, as if sensing the shift in energy the moment you entered.

You nodded, stepping further in. “Smells good”.

Dean took a long sip of his beer, leaning against the counter like he wasn’t totally rattled. He watched as you moved past him, reaching up to grab a glass from the cabinet. His eyes flickered—just for a second—to the curve of your bare legs, the hem of your shorts riding high.

And fuck, his brain went straight to the worst place. His fingers flexed slightly around the neck of his beer bottle. His jaw tightened. Not again. Not now. Not fucking now.

You turned back toward him, your expression unreadable. “You good?”.

Dean blinked, realizing way too late that he’d been staring. “Yeah”, he muttered, forcing himself to look away. He took another swig of beer. “Just… thinking”.

Sam, standing at the stove, let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I bet you are”.

Dean shot him a shut the hell up look, but Sam only smirked, stirring the pan.

You didn’t press the issue. You just moved past him again, sitting at the table, stretching your legs out beneath you like you hadn’t just driven him insane with barely any effort.

Dean swallowed hard, shifting against the counter, still trying to shake the lingering feeling in his gut. This was getting out of hand. Because no matter how much he told himself that there was nothing left, his body kept proving him wrong.

Dean forced himself to focus on his beer, keeping his grip tight around the bottle like it was the only thing anchoring him. But his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to you every few seconds—watching the way you stretched, the way you absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the way your lips curled slightly when you scrolled through your phone.

It was so normal. So casual. Like you weren’t still carrying the weight of everything he had put you through. Like you hadn’t spent weeks hurting over him. And that made something twist uncomfortably in his chest.

Sam, of course, saw everything.

The way Dean kept sneaking glances at you, the way his grip on the beer bottle tightened every time you shifted in your chair.

With an exasperated sigh, Sam plated up the food and turned to the table. “Alright, you two. Dinner”. He set a plate in front of you, then in front of Dean before grabbing his own seat.

Dean pushed off the counter, finally tearing his eyes away from you long enough to sit down. But as soon as he did, his knee bumped against yours beneath the table. It wasn’t much—just a small, accidental touch. But his body reacted instantly. Again.

A sharp jolt of heat shot up his spine, a phantom sensation of something familiar, something his brain should remember but didn’t. His muscles locked up.

You, however, barely seemed to notice.

You just grabbed your fork, picking at your food like nothing had happened, like his whole damn body hadn’t just short-circuited over one little touch.

Dean cleared his throat, shifting slightly, trying to move his leg away—except you stretched yours out again, brushing against him without even realizing it.

And holy fuck—his dick twitched, memories he didn’t have playing tricks on him.

Sam, completely done with this entire situation, gave him a pointed look. “Eat, Dean”, he muttered, clearly tired of watching him mentally combust.

Dean blinked, realizing he was gripping his fork too tight, and forced himself to take a bite—chewing like it was a damn job just to keep from focusing on the fact that his whole body felt like it was at war with itself.

While Sam was already asleep, his soft, steady breaths filling the quiet of the bunker, Dean was wide awake. He couldn’t sleep. He had tried. He had laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to pass out, to shut off whatever the hell was happening in his brain. But it didn’t work.

Because his body wouldn’t let him forget. Wouldn’t let him forget the way you looked earlier in the garage, how flexible you were, the way your yoga pants hugged everything. Wouldn’t let him forget the accidental brush of your leg under the table. Wouldn’t let him forget the way his body had reacted instantly.

And now, he was walking around with a hard-on that refused to go away.

He had even tried jerking off to the memory of you stretching earlier, his mind grasping at something—anything—to take the edge off. But it wasn’t enough.

Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of something more. Felt something more. Things he couldn’t remember. But his body did. And it was driving him fucking insane.

So now, here he was. Standing outside your door, staring at the wood like it was some kind of goddamn enemy, like it held all the answers to the shitstorm inside his head.

He knew he shouldn’t be here. Knew he should turn around, go back to his room, take another cold shower, do anything but this. But before he could talk himself out of it, his hand was already knocking.

It was quiet—hesitant. For a second, nothing happened. Then, soft footsteps.

The door cracked open, and there you were, standing in the dim light of your room, looking just as tired as he felt. But not for the same reason.

Dean knew he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been sleeping lately.

You’d been like this since the hospital—since he forgot you. Waking up in the middle of the night. Crying. Shaking.

Sam had told him, in that concerned-but-not-prying way of his. Said he could hear you sometimes, muffled sobs that you tried to hide.

Dean had never asked about it.

And now, standing here, looking at you, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Because if he did, he might have to deal with it. And right now, the only thing he could deal with was the ache still pulsing between his legs.

You blinked up at him, confusion flickering across your face. “Dean?”.

His jaw clenched. Say something. Don’t be fucking weird.

“I, uh—”. He shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “You awake?”.

You let out a quiet, almost bitter laugh. “I haven’t really slept in weeks, so yeah”.

That made something twist in his chest, something unfamiliar. But he ignored it. Instead, his eyes flickered—just for a second—to the oversized shirt you were wearing, hanging off your shoulder, just barely covering your legs.

You caught the shift in his gaze, the way his throat bobbed, and your lips parted slightly in realization. “Dean?”. Your voice was softer now, more cautious. “What are you doing here?”.

He exhaled hard. What was he doing here? There was no good answer. Just the wrong one. So instead of speaking, instead of figuring it out, he did the only thing that felt real in that moment. He stepped closer. Just enough for you to feel the heat of his body, for your breath to hitch in your throat, for his fingers to twitch at his sides like they wanted to touch.

You were watching him carefully now, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion that clung to you. Because this? This wasn’t normal. Not anymore. Not since the accident. Not since he stopped looking at you like you were his.

And yet, right now—right fucking now—he was looking at you like he wanted. Like he needed. His jaw worked, like he was trying to form words but couldn’t quite get them out. His throat bobbed, his breath came a little heavier, and his eyes? His eyes were on your bare legs, the way your oversized shirt barely covered you, like he was memorizing every damn inch.

“Dean”, you murmured, voice hesitant. “What do you want?”.

His gaze flicked up to yours, something desperate flashing across his face. His fingers curled into fists, and then—quietly, roughly, like he hated how much he needed to say it— “I want to feel you”.

The words landed. Hard.

Your lips parted slightly, your breath catching. But you didn’t say anything.

And fuck—fuck—Dean’s body reacted to the silence, to the tension, to the way you didn’t immediately say no.

He took another step closer. Then another. Until you could feel the heat of him, the way his body practically radiated with the weight of what he was holding back.

“I don’t—”. He swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly, like he was fighting with himself. “I don’t remember you”.

You went still, something flickering behind your eyes.

“But my body does”, he continued, voice rough, edged with frustration, desperation, want.

His hand lifted—hesitated—then finally, finally settled lightly against your hip. Just the smallest touch, like he was testing something, like he was waiting for you to push him away.

But you didn’t. And that just made it worse.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, he admitted, his grip tightening slightly. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop—”. His voice dropped lower, like he was confessing something dark, something wrong. “Can’t stop wanting you”.

Your breath was shaky now, your body frozen between fight and surrender. Because this was new. Dean had pulled away from you for weeks, had looked at you like a stranger. But now he was looking at you like he needed you. Like he couldn’t fucking help it.

And when his hand slid down, fingertips grazing against the bare skin of your thigh, you shivered.

His jaw clenched, his breathing ragged, his body practically vibrating with restraint. “Tell me to stop”, he rasped, his forehead almost pressing against yours now. “Tell me to walk away”.

You should stop this. You knew you should.

This wasn’t love. This wasn’t Dean remembering you, choosing you. This was desperation. This was your husband—your husband—wanting you for nothing more than a release, for the way his body still recognized you, even when his mind didn’t.

It was awful. It was pity. But you were already broken. So what did it even matter?

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as his fingers dug just slightly into the bare skin of your hip. He was so close, heat radiating from him, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His forehead nearly brushed against yours, his grip tightening, his body tense with restraint.

You opened your mouth and nothing came out. Because you couldn’t say it. Couldn’t force the words past the lump in your throat, past the deep, aching part of you that just wanted something—anything—that still felt real.

So instead, you tilted your head just slightly, your breath ghosting over his lips. A silent answer. Dean inhaled sharply. And then he broke.

His mouth crashed against yours, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, like he needed to feel you, to prove something to himself.

You gasped into the kiss, his fingers slipping beneath your shirt, gripping your bare skin, rough and needy. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate. And you let him take it.

Because if he wasn’t going to love you, if he wasn’t going to remember, at least he could still want you. At least you could pretend.

Just for tonight.

Dean didn’t hesitate. The second your body melted into his, the second you didn’t push him away, he took.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you against him as he walked you backward toward the bed, his mouth never leaving yours. It was messy—needy—desperate.

You barely had time to breathe before your back hit the mattress, his weight settling over you, his hands gripping your waist like he was afraid to let go. But then—he stilled.

His forehead rested against yours, his breaths heavy, his fingers twitching against your skin. Because for all the heat, all the tension, something about this still wasn’t right. He didn’t remember you. Didn’t remember the first time he kissed you, the way he used to worship you, the way he used to look at you like you were his whole damn world.

And for a second, that truth hung between you, thick and suffocating.

Dean swallowed hard, his lips hovering over yours. “I don’t—”. His voice was rough, strained. “I don’t wanna hurt you”.

Your chest ached. But you forced a small, bitter smile, brushing your fingers against his jaw. “You already did”.

Dean’s eyes darkened. His grip on you tightened. And then, he kissed you again. Slower this time. Softer. Like he was trying to feel something, trying to remember, trying to chase whatever part of him still recognized you.

His lips moved down your neck, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing it up, his calloused fingers tracing over familiar skin like muscle memory. Like his body knew, even when his mind didn’t.

He pulled away just enough to strip off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor before his hands found the hem of yours, fingers brushing over your ribs as he pulled it off.

The air in the room felt heavier, charged with something desperate, something aching.

You were left in nothing but your panties, chest rising and falling unevenly as he hovered over you, his eyes dragging over your body like he was trying to memorize it, like he was trying to force himself to feel what he was supposed to.

Your throat burned. Your eyes, too. But you didn’t stop him. Didn’t push him away. Because if this was all you could have, if this was the only way he could be close to you again— You’d take it. Even if it hurt.

Dean exhaled sharply, his hands trailing down your sides, over your hips, his touch familiar and unfamiliar all at once. His body still knew what to do, still reacted the way it always had.

And yet, it wasn’t the same. Because this wasn’t love. Not anymore.

Dean swallowed hard, fingers skimming just beneath the waistband of your panties before his eyes flicked up to yours.

You lifted your hips slightly, a silent invitation.

Dean hovered over you, both of you completely bare now, skin against skin, bodies hot and flushed. The heavy rise and fall of your breathing filled the quiet space between you, thick with tension, with something unspoken.

And for the first time since this started—since he lost everything—Dean felt awkward.

Not because he didn’t want this. Not because he wasn’t dying to be inside you. But because he didn’t know anymore. Didn’t know if you were already wet enough for him. Didn’t know if you struggled taking his size before, if he used to stretch you out slowly or if you could handle him all at once. Didn’t know if he was supposed to tease you, take his time, make you beg, or if you used to like it rough. He just—didn’t know.

And that was fucking frustrating.

His fingers brushed against your thigh, hesitating just slightly before trailing higher. You shifted beneath him, parting your legs more, but when his fingers slid lower, he exhaled sharply at what he found.

Soaked.

You were already soaked for him.

His jaw clenched, his cock twitching almost painfully because fuck—even without the memories, even with all the pain, your body still responded to him. Still wanted him.

“Fuck”, he muttered under his breath, fingers teasing along your slit, collecting the wetness before dragging it back up, just barely brushing against your clit.

You let out a soft breath, shifting beneath him, eyes dark and unreadable.

Dean swallowed hard, meeting your gaze. “Did I—”. He hesitated, his voice rough, almost embarrassed. “Did I used to—fuck, I don’t even know how to ask this”.

You blinked up at him, something flickering in your expression, something almost sad before you forced a small, breathless laugh.

“You never had to ask”, you murmured, tilting your hips up slightly, pressing against his fingers. “You always just knew”.

Dean’s chest ached. Not just from the words, but from the way you said them. Like you missed him. The real him. The one who knew your body like the back of his hand. The one who never hesitated, never second-guessed, never had to wonder what you needed because he just knew.

And fuck, he wanted to know. Wanted to remember.

Dean cleared his throat, still hovering over you, his body tense, his fingers still teasing between your legs but not pushing yet.

His mind was at war with itself.

He wanted you. Fuck, did he want you. But he still didn’t know. Didn’t know how much to give, how much you could take, how much he had to prepare you.

So, awkwardly, hesitantly, he muttered, “You, uh… you got experience?”. It was a dumb question. He knew that. But he wasn’t thinking straight.

You blinked up at him, confused at first, but then something shifted in your expression. Like you knew exactly what he was asking.

You swallowed hard, your throat bobbing. Then, barely above a whisper—soft, hesitant, truthful—you said: “You were my first. And my only”.

Dean’s breath hitched. His stomach flipped. His cock twitched. Because fuck. That wasn’t what he had asked. That wasn’t what he had meant to find out.

But now? Now that he knew? It turned his whole damn head.

You were his. Only his.

No one else had ever touched you. No one else had ever felt you. He had been your first. Your only. And something primal deep in his gut loved that.

His fingers twitched against your skin, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. His voice came out rough, almost strained. “Yeah?”.

You nodded, lips parted, breathing uneven beneath him.

Dean exhaled sharply, his head swimming, his body aching. He still didn’t remember. But he felt it now. Felt the weight of what that meant. Felt possessive in a way he didn’t understand. And fuck—if he was your first, your only, then he sure as hell wasn’t about to let you forget why.

Dean exhaled through his nose, trying to think—trying to be careful. He had no memory of this, no memory of you like this, no memory of what you liked, what you needed.

So, to be safe, he gently pushed a finger inside you, just to test, just to feel how tight you were.

And fuck.

You were tight.

Warm, wet, clenching slightly around him as his finger slid deeper, your breath hitching just slightly.

Dean swallowed hard.

Maybe you needed a little foreplay. Maybe he should take his time, work you open, make sure you could take him—because he wasn’t small, wasn’t average, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

But then, you made a soft sound in the back of your throat, shifting your hips, pressing down against his hand. And fuck, he felt it. The way you tightened around him, the way you weren’t just ready, but needy.

His brows furrowed slightly. “You sure you don’t need more?”, he asked, voice rough, almost hesitant.

Your breath was uneven, your fingers curling slightly against his arm. “You always asked that”, you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Dean stilled, blinking down at you.

“And you always got the same answer”, you continued, shifting slightly, your lips curving in a ghost of a smirk.

Dean swallowed. “Yeah? And what’s that?”.

You met his eyes, something dark and wanting flickering behind yours. “I like the stretch”.

Dean felt that. Felt it everywhere. His cock throbbed almost painfully, his pulse hammering in his ears, his mind foggy with need.

You liked the stretch. You liked feeling him, even if he wasn’t inside you anymore. That did something to him.

His fingers twitched against your thigh, his jaw clenching as he pulled his hand back, dragging his finger out of you slowly, watching the way your body reacted, how you clenched around the absence of him.

His cock pulsed at the sight.

You were already soaked, already ready, and the thought of just pushing inside had his restraint hanging by a thread. Still, he hesitated. Because he wanted this. Wanted you. But he didn’t want to do it wrong. Didn’t want to fuck this up. Didn’t want to fuck you up more than he already had.

Dean exhaled sharply, his forehead briefly pressing against yours as he muttered, “You tell me if it’s too much”.

Your hands slid up his back, fingers curling against his skin, pulling him closer.

“It won’t be”, you whispered, voice breathless. “It never is”.

Dean’s control snapped. He reached down, gripping himself, aligning with your entrance, his tip already soaked with you.

And then, slowly, slowly, he pushed inside.

Your breath hitched, your body arching slightly, legs tightening around his waist as he sank deeper, stretching you just the way you liked.

Dean felt it. The way you took him so perfectly, the way your body pulled him in, wanted him, like you were made just for him.

His jaw clenched, his breath ragged as he buried himself to the hilt, your walls gripping him so damn tight he had to physically stop himself from moving. “Fuck”, he rasped, his head dropping to your shoulder.

You let out a shaky breath, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in just slightly.

Dean didn’t need to think anymore. Didn’t need to try. Because the second he started moving, the second he pulled back and thrust forward again, it was there. Familiar. Instinctual.

Like his body had never forgotten the way you felt around him, the way you gripped him perfectly, like you were made for him.

His pace found its rhythm quickly—deep, steady, smooth. He wasn’t rushing. He wasn’t fumbling. It was natural. It was right.

And fuck, it was the best sex he’d ever had.

Dean knew it—felt it in every roll of his hips, in every gasp that left your lips, in the way your legs wrapped around him like they belonged there.

He didn’t remember the first time you had done this. Didn’t remember the late nights, the early mornings, the way he used to take his time with you—teasing, kissing, worshiping.

But his body did.

Because even now, this—this slow, deep, all-consuming connection—felt like something he had done a million times.

Like something he needed.

His forehead pressed against yours, breaths mixing, his hands gripping your thighs, your hips, guiding you into every thrust.

And you were lost in it. Lost in him. Because this wasn’t just sex. This wasn’t just two people fucking. This was something deeper, something that had been missing—something neither of you had allowed yourselves to feel in weeks.

Dean groaned, his rhythm faltering for just a second as you clenched around him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your soft, breathless moans hitting his ears.

Dean was losing it.

He was barely hanging on, every slow thrust pulling him deeper into something he wasn’t ready to name. You were so warm, so tight around him, gripping him in a way that made every muscle in his body tense.

And fuck, he had no idea how he used to do this without embarrassing the shit out of himself.

Because right now, he was dangerously close to blowing his load like some damn rookie.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his breathing uneven. “Shit—”.

You let out a breathless laugh, fingers digging into his back. “Already?”.

Dean groaned, shaking his head. “Shut up, I’m trying, okay?”.

You smirked against his skin, shifting your hips just slightly, making him twitch inside you.

Dean whimpered. Actually whimpered.

You giggled.

And that—that—was when he realized he was completely fucking doomed.

“Geez”, he gritted out, pulling back just enough to glare at you, his jaw tight. “You always do this?”.

You tilted your head, amused. “What?”.

Dean clenched his teeth, his grip tightening on your waist. “Try to make me look like an idiot?”.

You laughed again, and fuck, that should not have turned him on more, but it did. “Well”, you teased, brushing your lips against his jaw, “you used to have really good stamina”.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Used to?”.

You bit your lip, eyes playful. “I don’t know—maybe memory loss killed your endurance”.

Dean growled, gripping your thighs and slamming his hips deeper, making your breath hitch hard.

“Oh”, you gasped, clinging to him.

Dean smirked, his confidence surging back. “What was that? Didn’t hear you”.

You glared at him, even as your legs tightened around his waist. “Asshole”.

Dean grinned.

You snorted, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

And just like that—just like always—it stopped being awkward. Stopped being weird. Because this? This was still you and him. And for the first time in weeks, Dean felt like he knew you.

But still, he was struggling.Like, really fucking struggling.

Your body wrapped around him like a damn vice, squeezing him just right, gripping him in a way that made his brain short-circuit.

While you were so close.

He could feel it—could feel the way your body clenched tighter around him with every thrust, your breath coming out in shaky little gasps, your nails digging into his shoulders like you were trying to anchor yourself.

Dean clenched his jaw, his arms shaking as he gripped the sheets beside your head, desperately trying to hold on.

“Damn it", he gritted out, voice wrecked. “You’re doing that on purpose”.

You blinked up at him, dazed, barely registering his words. “What?”.

Dean groaned, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts growing sloppy, because holy shit, he wasn’t going to last. “That—”. He let out a breathless, broken laugh, “That thing—whatever the fuck that is—with your, y’know… muscles—”.

Your brows furrowed. “You mean me being close?”.

Dean whimpered. Again. “Don’t say it”, he warned, squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself not to come like a teenager.

You let out a breathless giggle, which was not helping at all. “Dean, it’s literally what happens during sex—”.

“Stop talking”, he groaned, shaking his head.

You were dying. Genuinely, this was the best thing ever. Your big, strong, cocky husband, always so confident, always so damn good at this, now struggling to keep himself together.

And you loved it.

“You really—”. You gasped as he thrust particularly deep, your body tightening even more. “You really used to last long”.

Dean growled, lifting his head just enough to glare at you. “Oh, fuck you—I’ve got brain damage, okay?”.

You snorted, laughing so hard that you clenched even tighter around him, and—

Dean froze. His entire body locked up.

“Oh, motherfucker”, he groaned, shaking, his hips stuttering as he came so hard he almost blacked out.

You gasped at the sensation, his warmth spilling deep inside you, his arms trembling as he buried his face in your neck, completely and utterly wrecked.

For a solid ten seconds, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing and your half-amused, half-shocked panting.

Dean barely had time to catch his breath before he felt you shift beneath him. His body was still buzzing, his muscles weak from the earth-shattering orgasm he just had, and all he wanted to do was collapse and pretend that didn’t just happen.

But you pushed against his chest. Firm. Determined.

He blinked down at you, confused, still wrecked, as you shoved harder, making him sit back against the headboard.

“Oh, fuck no”, you hissed, climbing onto his lap.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, his brain still trying to catch up. “Uh—wait—what?”.

You glared at him, straddling his hips, gripping his jaw as you leaned in. “You always make me come, Dean”.

Dean gulped. His cock—despite just being completely done—twitched in interest. And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever heard.

You shifted against him, making him hiss from overstimulation, but the look in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine. Because you weren’t done.

And damn it, now neither was he.

His hands found your hips on instinct, gripping you, steadying you as you rolled your hips against him, desperate, needing more.

He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re relentless”.

You shot him a glare. “You used to love it”.

Dean swallowed thickly. “Yeah… I think I still do”.

You didn’t give him time to dwell on that. Or yourself to dwell on that.

Instead, you moved, grinding down against him, using his still-hard cock to chase your own release, every little movement sending sharp pulses of pleasure straight through him.

Dean groaned, his head dropping back against the headboard, his hands gripping your waist tight. “Fuck—okay—yeah, this is happening—”.

“Damn right it is”, you muttered, your pace quickening, your hands bracing against his chest.

His fingers dug into your skin, his hips bucking up to meet your rhythm, his breath ragged. “God, you’re gonna kill me”.

You let out a breathless laugh, leaning down, dragging your lips over his jaw. “You’re still breathing. Fix it”.

Dean let out a rough, wrecked groan. He was fucked. Completely, utterly, helplessly fucked.

Because as soon as you rolled your hips over him again, your warm, wet heat pressing against his rapidly hardening cock, all that overstimulation, all that sensitivity? Gone. Just pure, burning need all over again.

His breath was shaky, his hands gripping your thighs before sliding up to your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he adjusted himself beneath you.

“Fuck”, he muttered, jaw tight as he gripped his cock, lining himself up with your entrance.

Then, with a firm, rough push on your hips, he forced you down onto him. All the way. In one smooth, deep motion.

And if he thought he was losing it before— This? This was a whole different level.

Your body took him so perfectly, stretching around him just the way you had said you liked, the tight, wet heat making his brain short-circuit all over again. His head slammed back against the headboard, his grip bruising on your hips. “Oh, shit—”.

You gasped, nails digging into his chest, your breath coming in short, needy little pants as you adjusted, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing him so fucking tight.

Every slow, sensual roll of your hips made his lungs seize like it was the first breath he had ever taken.

His hands slid up your back, fingers splaying wide as you started to move, slow and steady, setting the pace, taking exactly what you needed from him.

Dean let you. Let you take control, let you wreck him—because, holy shit, this wasn’t just sex. This was something else. Something that made his chest ache, something that sent shivers down his spine, something he should remember but still didn’t.

And that? That scared the hell out of him. Because if this wasn’t love, if this wasn’t his, then why did it feel like it was?

His brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening—the way you moved, the way your body rolled against his like you knew exactly what to do, like you had done this a million times before… Because you had. Just not in a way he could remember.

His fingers dug into your hips, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps as he watched you, his head tilted back against the headboard, eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in existence.

“Damn it (Y/N), fuuck", he muttered, his voice raw, wrecked, shaken.

Your lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in your eyes even as pleasure rolled through you. “That good, huh?”.

Dean let out a breathless, helpless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s not even the word for it”.

You braced your hands against his chest, shifting slightly, rolling your hips in a way that made his whole body twitch.

Dean groaned. Loud. His hands trembled as they slid up your thighs, over your waist, his grip tight like he was afraid you’d slip away. "Damn it, sweetheart—”. His head tilted forward, his forehead almost resting against yours as he let out a shaky, desperate breath. “You’re unreal”.

You laughed softly, breathless, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Not unreal. Just yours”.

Dean’s stomach flipped. His chest tightened. And fuck, that shouldn’t have hit him so hard, shouldn’t have sent a different kind of ache through him. But it did.

His jaw clenched, his eyes locked onto yours, something dangerous and undeniable flickering in them. His grip tightened, his muscles tensing, his heart hammering in his chest. And before he could stop himself, before he could think, he muttered, voice rough, wrecked, reverent—

“Yeah. Mine”.

And with that? He snapped. Flipped you onto your back, pinned you down, and took you all over again. His hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wide as he drove himself deep.

Your breath hitched, your head tilting back as a sharp, desperate moan escaped your lips.

His jaw clenched, his breath uneven as he rolled his hips, grinding against you just right, hitting spots he didn’t even fucking remember knowing.

His mouth brushed against your ear, his voice low, gravelly, possessive. “That’s it, baby”, he muttered, punctuating each word with a deep, precise thrust. “Fuck—you’re so damn tight”.

You gasped, nails dragging down his back, your thighs trembling against his sides.

Dean grinned against your skin, feeling you fall apart beneath him, feeling the way you reacted to everything he did. “Tell me”, he rasped, his voice wrecked, desperate. “Tell me how you like it”.

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, your breath coming out in shaky, uneven pants. “This—”. Your voice was barely there, edged with pure need, your body arching into his. “Just like this”.

Dean groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs as he angled his hips, hitting that exact spot that had you whimpering, your legs wrapping around his waist like you couldn’t get him deep enough.

He felt the way you clenched around him. Felt the way you were so close. And fuck, he loved it.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”, he murmured, dragging his lips down your jaw, his thrusts deep and steady, perfect.

Your breath hitched, your nails digging into his back. “Dean—”.

He grinned, his breath hot against your skin, his voice gravelly, dark. “C’mon, baby”, he coaxed, relentless now, his pace perfect, determined, like he knew exactly what you needed.

You gasped and then shattered.

Your body clenched around him, waves of pleasure ripping through you, your breath coming in ragged, desperate moans as you broke apart beneath him.

Dean felt everything. Felt the way you tightened, the way your body shook, the way your breathy, helpless cries filled the room.

And that sent him spiraling all over again. His hips stuttered, his jaw clenched, his arms shaking as he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a wrecked, breathless groan.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 4

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[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello can I have an ask about reader who came from our world who is a big fan of predators who can read, write and speak their language and fight like them too gets teleported to yautja prime and I guess she was looking around for shelter and she found a clan so she entered their clan grounds hoping she doesn't get killed and she found a pyramid (from what I remember seeing in one of the movies) which turns out to be where the clan has its important meetings. And the elder clan leader let's call him Kar'dokh (if you don't mind) was having meeting with other nearby clans so reader accidently enters the meeting room filled with other clan leaders and their most trusted soldiers standing by their side and the silence was LOUD

Reader: .... 

Kar'dokh and the other clan leaders: .... 

*Kar'dokh gets up about to kill her*

*Reader speaks in yautja*: wait I mean no harm I swear!! 

And like all of the yautjas were flabbergasted to find this out and they were suspicious of her cause how does a human know so much about their people? (cause in the world no human ever went to yautja prime) so word got out and everyone wanted to see the human including people from other clans, so fast forward reader and kar'dokh got close -e ends up liking her try's courting her but she pretends to be oblivious to it

Kar'dokh: ooman

Reader: yes? 

Kar'dokh: why do you refuse to be my mate? Am I not a worthy enough male for you? I have you know I have strong seed to sire strong pups so why do you refuse me? 

Reader: what...? What do you...huh? Kar'dokh you are an alien I wouldn't even be able to give you children! 

Kar'dokh: my people's technology can fix that issue so be my mate

Reader: I... I can't 

Kar'dokh: and why not? 

Reader: because I'm human!!! 

Kar'dokh: not valuable reason. Try again

Reader: why do you even like me!?!? Kar'dokh: because I am attracted to you

Reader: *tip toe’s and manages to grab him by the shoulders* raise your standard!!!!

Kar'dokh: *slams hand into metal and puts a deep dent into it then proceed to grab her by the risk*

AND BOOM he pounces on her, corners her against the wall gets her to confess her feelings and they do the super Spicy boombayah doggie style😉

And she somehow got pregnant a few days later 

SORRY FOR IT BEING LONG!!!!! 

To Another Realm

Pairings: Kar'dokh (male yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5271

Summary: After being transported to another realm where yautjas are real, you learn to survive. With the help of Kar'dokh. A clan leader of a strong tribe. If it wasn't for him, you would've been long dead your first day. Close proximity and his help made the two of you grow close. To the point there was no space between you two.

Author Note: IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS. I've been so busy. Work just changed my 6-2 to a 10-6 and I'm now moving an hour away. So I'll be taking a small break as well for that for writing probably. Maybe... I don't know.

Also! I do have a patreon now: link There are three tiers. Those get the post earlier. Everything will still come out. I'm tweaking things as I go.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind rushes passed you. The ground comes and meets your face with a dull thud. Blackness is all you see.

A throat-tearing gasp wracks your body. You sit up rapidly and start to violently cough, trying to figure out how to steady your breathing. It takes a moment to steady yourself enough to wipe away the tears from your face and gaze around. What you saw wasn’t what you were expecting.

Jungle. Tall, lumbering trees towered high above you. Heat and humidity smacked you in the face. The air was hard to breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen, like you had been shoved onto of a mountain without any time to acclimate. You struggled to your feet and glanced around. The area felt weird. It was as if your internal compass was thrown off completely.

Where were you?

Only thing you could feel besides the confusion was dread. A heavy thing to sit in the pit of your belly, weighing you down. You placed over your heart and took in deep, calming breathes. A difficult thing to do when it feels like you’re slowly suffocating. You pushed through the dread and began to move in a random direction. There had to be some sort of clue to as where you are… and how you got here. The last thing you say doesn’t correspond to waking up in a forest!

Due to the lack of air, you could only walk at a moderate pace. That already had you panting slightly. The terrain was rough and unsteady. Thick foliage, fall giant trees, wide creeks, and boulders made the trip all the more difficult. You had to push forward though and find some sort of clue. Sweat and humidity sticks to your skin like a sheet. Your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. No matter how much you pulled the drenched clothing away from your skin.

Hours, or what felt like hours of traveling, later, you spotted something through the foliage. It rivaled the trees height. A structure! You immediately started to quickened your pace and race through the foliage, not caring if the branches tore at your clothing and skin. You panted heavily by the time you pushed past the lush bush. You stood there and dragged your gaze up, up, up until you find the top. It was a pyramid. A pyramid in the middle of the jungle. Was this somewhere that had Aztec or Mayan buildings? That’s all you could come up with.

It was in pristine state, as if you had been transported back in time. Like this was the day it was built. You can’t recall anything from anywhere that had something like this. With your heavy breathing, you had to stand there for at least ten minutes, under a tree, catching your breath. The sun was harsh. It felt like you were in a desert, in middle of the day. It nearly burned your skin by standing out in it for a short period of time. You glanced at the building after catching your breath once more. You wanted to go inside. Who knows what’s beyond its walls? Could be an earth shattering record?

With a deep breath you pushed onward and stepped into the blazing sun. Even the intensity felt off, the rays as well. Yet, you didn’t have an idea on what is happening. Besides this being a terrible dream. Stuck in a hot, humid jungle with no phone, no map, no clue where you were. A hopeless situation to be put into with your lonesome.

Large stairs that reached your knees slowed your ascend. Halfway up, you had to stop and take a moment. “This. Is. Bullshit,” you muttered to yourself then continued up the stairs. The material was textured and a deep ruby red with blocks of black. It was beautiful despite you sweating all over it. Does a dream really make you sweat this much?

By the time you had reached the top steps, you feel faint, ready to fall back down the stairs you just climbed. You stumbled your way into the entrance, thankful for the cover. The sun had done a number on your skin. The heat that radiated off of you could make water boil off of you. Your back touches a wall before you slide down to sit. Your legs were more than thankful for the rest. There had to be at least on-hundred steps. Minimum. It was worse since they were made for bigger people.

All because you wanted to see the inside. This better be worth it.

Once you felt stable, thirty minutes later, you weakly stood up. Your legs wobbled when you took a step. You continue on and follow your way inside. Only to realize it had a stairwell. You growled and glared at the damn thing. Then, you take the slow and approach of climbing down each step. It wasn’t much to complain about. Only about two flights until you reached the first floor. Now, it was time to explore.

There was something in the air that had you on alert. Either from the creepiness or from the fact you felt like you were crossing into forbidden territory. You tread quietly, peered around corners before doing down that hallway. The place felt like a maze, meant to drag you deeper and deeper into the depths. Until you from yourself all the way at the bottom level.

That; s when you realize that the only reason you’re able to see is from fire lamps. Lamps that have to be lit by someone. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the walls. In your blind stupor, you didn’t think to look at the walls. Walls that are decorated with stone carvings. Carving that made you think of the movie ‘AVP’. This is really a dream.

You walked up to the carving and gently ran a hand over the smooth stone. Beautiful work. Someone had poured their heart into the crafting a story into the stone. Your gaze drifts over the art work and followed the story down the hallway. All the way to a grand door at the end of the hallway. It was too carved with a mixture of stone, word, and some sort of ore. You stopped in front the door with your jaw dropped.

Curiosity got the best of you. Both of your hands were place on one of the doors.; With all of your weight and strength, you pushed open the door. Your head was ducked down as you struggled the entire time. Just enough until you could slip between the new crack. You stepped into the room and instantly freeze on the spot. That dreadful feeling only intensified… tenfold. You picked up your head and had to cut off a gasp.

Tens of eyes stared at you bright, fierce gazes that looked ready to tear into you. Your muscles locked in place as you stared out at the group. You recognized them. Yautjas. These were Yautjas. Twenty or so. All of them staring at you. Your heart pounding in your chest, trying to escape from the situation you’ve put yourself into.

At the end of the long, formal table, one grand looking Yautja stood up abruptly. Others following suit. The first on marched around everyone and advanced swiftly towards you. You stumble backwards and smacked into the closed door behind you.

Two long blades slid out and glinted off the low light from the fire lamps. Your eyes about bulged out of your head as you looked at the approaching Yautja. Seeing them in movies was far different than seeing on in person. Not that you ever thought you would see one like this. Your hands lifted up in a complacent manner, as if you were trying to call down an angered animal.

“Wait!” you screamed, using a language you never though to use. The Yautja stopped in his tracks his muscles tense. Everyone else pausing as well. “Don’t… don’t kill me.” The unused language was choppy on your tongue. You never thought you would ever use it. Not that you had anyone to use it with.

Surprise over took his anger in the moment. His eyes roamed from head to toe. “You spoke.” It was a statement rather than a question. The words takes a long few seconds to register in your brain. A bit of excitement flares to life inside of you at the knowledge you understand him.

Timidly, you nodded your head. “Yes. Did. Not well.” You did your best to communicate with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas behind him glanced at each other, confusion evident in their eyes. Some looked angry. One stepped out from the group and tried to bypass the main Yautja standing less than ten feet from you. He sticks his arm out and stops the other one.

“No, Taural,” he growled but didn’t let his bright vibrant eyes off of you. You felt like a deer in headlights, just waiting for them to do something. For them to decide your fate. There was no running, no fleeing. You couldn’t outrun them, there was no chance of escape. You had to think smart.

The one he stopped snapped his head towards the larger male. “It’s a ooman, Kar'dokh! On Yautja Prime. It needs to be killed,” Taural spat at the brown Yautja. Your heart leapt into your throat. Kill you?! But-but, you’re not a threat, you have no weapons. They have no reason to kill you!

“No.” Such a firm statement that left nothing to be argued. “Return to your seats. Now.” A command that left everyone only to followed. They followed his order with little resistance. Some glanced back at you with murderous intent. Part of you was thankful for the mercy while the other was afraid what he might have in store for you.

Kar'dokh approached you once more with a stern look in his eyes. Instantly, like a cornered animal, your first thought was to throw a punch. But, you didn’t want to give a reason to kill you. Don’t be a threat. He stopped directly in front of you. A towering form that made you feel like you were going to shit yourself. Your heart raced and felt like it was going to leap directly into his hands.

He leaned down and got directly into your face. You tried to turn your head away but he grips your chin and forces your head back. “No threat. Can’t… kill me,” you continued in choppy Yautja. The fear that gripped your heart squeezed hard. All you could do was stand there, under his scrutiny. Your eyes pleading for your life to be spared. Because if your memory served you right, from all the knowledge about these guys, they shouldn’t be allowed to harm or kill you in any way. You aren’t a threat and hold no weapons.

“How do you know?” he growled out lowly and tightened his grip on your chin. You since. “How did you get here?” You could see the questions swirling in his eyes the longer you he stared at you. He was trying to figure out where and how you got here.

Longer you stood there pinned to the wall, you grew more lightheaded. Either from the anxiety that ran through you or the lack of oxygen was starting to get to you. Maybe it was the fear of death right in front of you. Or maybe it was a combination of all of that. Your breathes started to come out fast the longer you were pinned. Darkness began to crowd your vision.

“I-I’m gonna pa-pas out,” you alerted to him before everything went dark. You collapsed on the ground. Kar'dokh letting you dropped. The last thing you remember is being picked up.

By the next time you woke up, you felt a bit refresh. Your eyes blinked open to stare up at a patterned, carved ceiling. Carving like the ones you’ve seen on the pyramid walls. Your brows furrowed at the sight. What? You sat up and rubbed at your eyes. The scene didn’t change. You had just woke up. What in the world were you still in this dream? Fear started to fill your stomach. No… surely, this was a dream. Was this a dream?

Then, a door opening caught your attention. Your head snapped over towards the sound. Kar'dokh was walking into the room, head held high. He stopped besides the cot you had been placed on during your forced nap. Stunned, you peered up at him, heart thundering again. “What happened?” you asked, speaking in your normal language now. Then, you felt the blanket that had been laid on you, slip down. That’s when you realize the room you were in was a medical room. And it didn’t feel like you were suffocating anymore.

His nearness was frightening. To see him crowd into your space without any remorse for scaring you terribly. A grumbled came from the towering, brown giant. “Our planet’s atmosphere isn’t designed for oomans.” His voice! He spoke in Yautja but a monotone voice sounded in your ear. A translator.

It’s thought that they breathe nitrogen more than oxygen. They can survive in our atmosphere than us in theirs. “A regulator has been added to our respiratory system.” Kar'dokh leaned into closer into your space. Your natural reaction was to move away but he snatched your throat and tugged you back. “Now, that I know you won’t die before I get my answers: start talking.”

Worst of all, you don’t know the true answer to his questions. He didn’t look like he would accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer either. You forced down the lump in your throat. “Uh, what was the questions again?” you asked in a small voice. As much as you wanted to shy away and hide, the grip he had on your chin was firm. There was no escape.

He scowled at you and tightened his hold on you for a moment. “How did you get here? Who brought you onto our planet?” The deepness and anger in his voice was laid thick over you. It rattled you deep to the bones. Fear gripped your heart. The more you looked at Kar'dokh, the more you noticed how decorated he was. Kar'dokh was covered with plenty of bones and scars. From your knowledge, he must be a well decorated hunter or possibly an elder… or a clan leader. That had your heart dropping to the floor, at his feet. You whimpered quietly and closed your eyes, trying not to faint again.

“Answer me!”

Your whole body jerked from him but he brought you back to his space. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I promise. I woke up in the middle of the jungle. I-I walked around and found this place. I don’t know how I got here. Honestly!” you had to plead to him. Hopefully, he’d see the honesty in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You cracked open an eye to read his face.

The gears in his brain were spinning. Kar'dokh growled then let go of your chin. With a yelp, you fell back and nearly fell off the cot if it wasn’t for him grabbing the collar of your shirt. He hauled you back up into a sitting position. Far too close. You could see the speckles in his eyes. Beautiful but deadly. This creature could easily hurt and kill you with a fraction of his strength. The only reason you are alive currently was you weren’t a threat nor an honorable kill. Those… others wanted to kill you with little remorse or pause. Was that honor rule not true? If that was the case, you were a walking corpse. Soon to be a skull on the wall. Nothing more than a trophy.

Kar'dokh eases off of your shirt until he knew you won’t fall backwards again. “Thanks,” you murmured and drifted your face down towards the cot again. Your hands were folded in your lap, nervously playing with each other. “I’m being honest. I promise. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where I am. This isn’t earth, is it?” You gazed back up at him, eyes large and wide.

The two of you entered a short staring contest until he sighed and took a step back. “I believe you, ooman. I don’t smell another on you.” The brown Yautja leaned forward and sniffed you for a moment. “You do smell… strange.” Was that a good or bad thing? He stood back up and stared down at you from over his mandibles. “Do answer me this: how do you know that we can’t harm you?” Your breath got caught in your throat. Was it wise to release such information to him? Would he think you as insane?

But, the only way was to get through all of this is to be honest. From there, it would be up to Kar'dokh if you are to live. Putting your life in someone’s hands.

“Okay… you might not believe me though.” From there, you went into explaining what your world is like. Going deeply into about how Yautjas are a fake species, made up. All of them a fantasy that someone made up… until now. Kar'dokh took all of it. His stern face a wall of impassible features. Not even his eyes gave away a single emotion. By the end, you finally stopped and watched him closely.

During your whole talk, he had grabbed a chair. Kar'dokh stood up and uncrossed his arms. “All you’ve said is… unrealistic, though you arriving on Yautja Prime is also next to unrealistic. Oomans aren’t allowed on Yautja Prime but… you are  a special case now. If what you say is true then you must be kept alive.” That made a cold drop drip down your spine. What could that mean?

From that day, you were under lock and key by Kar'dokh or in a medical-like room. They would run tests on you yet they couldn’t come up with anything logical for your situation. In the meantime, you got to learn more than ever about them. Probably the first and only humans to step foot on Yautja Prime. Alive. It took time to get Kar'dokh to open up but your excitement about learning their culture and language inevitably softened him up enough. That’s when you learned more about him. Plenty for a well decorated warrior and clan leader to talk about.

Two years after you first dropped down onto their planet, the scientists were still scratching their heads. They haven’t figured out how you’ve made it here. They were able to find out you weren’t from their universe. Something about your cells were different. That’s as far as they’ve gotten about your situation.

On a different hand, you’ve gotten further with Kar'dokh to the point he allows you free roam of his home and the clan he leads. There was a strict no harming or killing on you. He had his name and symbol burned into your skin to ensure everyone knew you were off limits. Everyone kept a wide berth when it came to you. Rarely did anyone talk or looked at you. Something you used to your advantage. For the most part. Until you wanted to learn about their culture more.

Back in the comfort of Kar'dokh’s home, you were studying the language. A soft, thin, knitted blanket laid over your legs while you were curled on the couch in the living room. The language… was different. But Kar'dokh was more than helpful when it came to speaking and writing. Listening, that’s a whole different story. That’s all on you. Your brain is completely scrambled trying to understand the different clicks and trills they make.

With a groan, you flopped back against the back of the couch and tilted your head back, eyes closed. A familiar presences hovered over you, blocking out the light. You cracked open an eye then softly smiled at him with no teeth showing. “Hello, Kar'dokh. Come here to gloat about my struggles?” you teased him.

The brown Yautja placed his hands on the top of the couch and leaned over you. His long, dark tresses curtained around his head. “What are you struggling with?” he asked you, features soft and calm. You continued to gaze up at him. “I told you I’m here to help you.” He has changed since the first day you met him. You’ve cracked past his hard exterior to see how soft and kind he could be. You sat up and brought up the sheet of paper you were on. Kar'dokh grabbed it and looked at it closely.

Kar'dokh snorted then used a sharp nail to flick off the translator right behind your ear. Then, he began to speak in Yautja. “What it is saying is…” he spoke the word but it didn’t register in your brain. The confusion etched in your features stated you didn’t understand it. At all. Kar'dokh repeat it a few times. “Now, you try it.” The course of two years has greatly improved your Yautja speech and understanding. There are moment when you struggle… but Kar'dokh is there to catch you before you fall.

At first, the word choppily fell from your lips. Kar'dokh was patient in helping you get the word. The different facial structures definitely made it all the harder. Yet, Kar'dokh was patient with you the entire time. Even if it took all day for you to finally get it.

Once you finally got it, Kar'dokh purred and grinned at you. He combed his fingers carefully through your hair. “You did so well. I’m proud of you,” he praised to you.

In the pit of your stomach, butterflies erupted to life. Your eyes softly shut as you enjoyed the comfort his presence and touch offered. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you muttered softly in Yautja. The words were starting to fall from your lips with ease. His nails raked across your scalp. You sunk further into the couch with a deep groan.

A chuckle comes from the brown Yautja. You feel his presence grow closer, his heat washing over you like a blanket of comfort. One of your eyes barely cracks open to see his bright yellow one staring directly at you. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Without thinking, you leaned up and pecked him on one of his mandibles.

The whole world froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Internally, you were cursing at yourself. You flinched and tried to slip off the couch to put some distance between the two of you. When a hand snatched the back of you neck, lifted you over the couch, and dropped you right in front of Kar'dokh. Your shoulders scrunched up, eyes not daring to look him in the eye.

Rough finger pads gripped your chin and forced you to look directly at him. A lump began to grow in your throat the longer you stared at him.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just-I don’t know. It just happened. I do have feelings. I don’t know if you did. And I probably just ruined what friendship we had. Now you’ll probably hate me. Please, don’t. I don’t know what I wo-“ a tongue was shoved into your mouth and promptly shut you up. Your eyes fluttered shut.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you close to a feverish body. Your own arms wrapped around a sturdy neck. Kar'dokh guided you towards the nearest wall and trapped you between him and it. You are forced to pull back and pant for breath. The back of your head resting against the wall.

“That’s one way to make me shut up,” you teased him and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss to his lower mandible. “I’m not complaining though.” Kar'dokh growled lowly in the back of his throat and dove back into another kiss. You immediately responded in haste, hands roaming over his shoulders and felt up his powerful body.

As your hands dipped lower, Kar'dokh pressed himself harder against you. One of his legs pressed between your legs and forced them open. You gasped into the kiss but he doesn’t let you pull away this time. A rough textured hand palms at your hip for a moment before dipping under the hem of your shirt. The difference in temperature has your hair standing on edge. He continues to grope at your newly exposed skin.

For a moment, he moves back a fraction to give you a moment to take a breath. His large, brown forehead was pressed to your own. Piercing yellow eyes stare directly into yours. The hand under your shirts drifts up and skims under the swell of your unbound breasts. You gasped and arched your back, pressing yourself more into his touch. His eyes flared with fire, mandibles twitching wider.

There’s a long second passed before he rips your shirt off of your body and frees your torso. Kar'dokh’s gaze was immediately admiring the new skin he exposes. Both of his hands palm at the supple, soft skin of your breasts. Large thumbs toys over your nipples and draws them into peaks. You whined and curled your hands into fists. One snagging a dark tress of his. He purred deeply and pressed his mouth to yours again in a fierce fight for the top. Kar'dokh easily overtakes you.

You tugged on his tress. His dark nails dig into your ribcage then he pinched and twisted one of your nipples. A gasp tore at your throat and forced you to pull away from him. Your hips rutted down on the thigh between them.

“Kar, no more teasing. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you begged him, breathless. His irises darkened.

With the open invitation, Kar'dokh simply rips off your pants and under in one move. A yelp escapes from your throat but he ignores it. The brown Yautja bumps his knee further up and grinds against your exposed slit. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the feeling of a dripping mess making its way to his thigh.

Drool drips down his jaw. Kar'dokh grips your hips and easily lifts you off of the ground, keeping you pinned to the wall. Instinctively, your legs attempted to wrap around his waist but he was larger than you. He uses his hips to hold you up as he undoes his loincloth and tosses it to the side. Your gaze is drawn downwards.

Hot and heavy. Kar'dokh’s alien cock is nestled between your thighs, resting on your stomach. The tip reaches your belly button easily. Oh shit. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

One last look in your eyes, he draws his hips back. The tapered, neon green tip was pressed to your entrance. Then, with a swift thrust, he lodges himself as deep as possible, only able to get about halfway in. Your back arches off of the wall as a wail falls from your lips. The sheer size of him makes it hard for your walls to even clench around him.

Kar'dokh uses a hand to ensnare your throat and forced you to look at him. “I know you can take more.” Another draw and thrust of his hips makes the rest of him fit snuggly inside of you. The feeling of him overwhelmed you. It felt like he was touching every nerve inside of you. Maybe he was.

A deep groan falls from his alien mouth. His eyes fluttering, on the verge of shutting at the exquisite feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him. “That’s it. I knew you could take it, little one. Mm, you’re so tight,” he muttered under his breath. Kar'dokh refocused on the task on hand.

The pace at first was sloppy, unsteady until he found the perfect beat. Loud slaps echoing throughout the living room. Your hand was still wrapped around his tress firmly, using it as a lifeline. Your jaw dropped as each thrust forced the air out of your lungs.

“Yes, yes. Perfect. Been wanting to do this-ugh, for so long. Make you my mate. Gonne breed you. Have my pups,” he rambled amidst the brutal fucking he provided. His claw dug into your hips and held you in place.

You couldn’t the snort that left you as you tried to stay sane. “T-that’s n-ah, no possible, Kar.” From what you know of, it shouldn’t be. No matter how potent their seed is. Or the fact the tip of his shaft was slamming against you cervix with each rut into you.

Black nails dug deeper into your flesh, threatening to break the barrier. “Doesn’t matter. Our technology will fix that,” he growled back and doubled his efforts. Your reply was cut off with a high pitched whine. The brutalness was wrecking to your smaller frame. There wasn’t a chance you would be able to walk tomorrow.

He leaned further into your space and buried his face into the crook of your neck. His long, pink tongue slithered over your salty flesh, tasting you. Blood pool around the nails that finally pierced the flesh of your hips.

“You’re mine. My mate!” Your pants grew whiny. You had no choice but to hold on as the first wave of your orgasm started to wash over you. Your eyes crossed as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Fangs bite down into the crook of your neck, scaring as his mate. With a deep, resonating snarl, Kar'dokh hips go flush with yours. You mewled at the feeling of his throbbing cock taking up every available space inside of you then some more. Spurts of cum began to fill your insides.

None of it was able to spill out and be of waste. Something was lodged just shy of your entrance, plugging you up. You squirmed in his hold and tried to figure it out what it was. Then, the light bulb went off.

A knot. Kar'dokh had knotted you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. He really was doing everything he can to make you pregnant. He unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and licked at the dribbling blood.

At first, you smiled. That turned into a smirk and soon enough, you were laughing softly, soaking in the dopamine in your system. Kar'dokh’s licking stopped. The brown Yautja pulls away to look you in the eye, confused on your laughter.

“I don’t know how this will work. You won’t be able to get me pregnant,” you explained to him again, trying to get the point across. “Why do you even like me? I’m a human.”

One hand detaches the claws in your hip to grip at your chin. “It’s because I am attracted to you. Ooman or not, you are attractable both physically and mentally.” Oh… that’s really sweet of him. Your cheeks flushed with heat again. You couldn’t even duck your head off to the side.

“Then, you need to raise your standards, Kar. Or you just need to get out more often.” Kar'dokh responded with a snort and returned to nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t entertain your words. Instead, he holds you in his arms, waiting for his knot to deflate.

So he could do it all over again.

Sure enough, a human can get pregnant by a Yautja.

[demonpiratehuntress]

the only one

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - Ace was always a flirt in whatever bars you went to, but once he's in love with you that changes.

warnings - none

a/n: i forgot to add this part in "marry me" so i just decided to make it its own fic. it was haunting me

When you first met Ace, he was perhaps the biggest flirt you had ever come across in your life. Anywhere and anytime, if you were in a bar he would be chatting up almost every local woman he met. It never used to bother you when you were just friends, but once you developed a crush on him it became a bit of a problem.

Most nights you would end up going back to the ship alone, and even though he wouldn't do anything with them - as evident when he returned to the ship after you alone - it still ate away at you. Made you feel things you didn't want to feel, unpleasant emotions that had you crying and sobbing into your pillow late at night when no one could hear.

Or at least, when you thought no one could hear.

Ace's room was next to yours, and every night he was absolutely crushed to hear your sobs. He was never sure what caused them, but he knew you wouldn't tell him. So he set out to discover the cause himself, and did as such on another island trip.

Noticing the way your face fell when he left the table to go talk to some girls at the bar, it instantly hit him that you were hurting because of him. And that was his first sign that you liked him.

That's when everything changed.

Once Ace was sure you had a crush on him, he stopped trying to suppress his feelings for you. They came out in full bloom, and his behaviour in bars and pubs completely changed, noticeable to everyone who knew him.

When Ace decided to show he was deeply in love with you, you noticed.

Every bar you went to after that involved him sitting right next to you the whole time, drunkenly flirting with you and you alone. Telling you how pretty you are, how cute you looked when you were so red, and how sweet you always were to him. No matter how many pretty girls were in the bar that day, he was glued to you.

"Ace," you would giggle and push his head off your shoulder. "Those girls in the corner are eyeing you out, they're pretty."

The raven-haired commander pouted, not even shooting them a glance, "But (Name), no one is prettier than youuuuu." He smiled, dropping his head back onto your shoulder. His breath reeked of alcohol, so you just dismissed it as drunken rambling, your face bright red.

But then there were times when he didn't drink at all, and still ignored anyone other than you trying to get with him.

"Sorry, can't talk right now."

You watched him dismiss yet another pretty woman as he made his way back to the table, handing you another drink. He plopped down in his seat next to you, offering you his goofiest grin yet.

"Ace, you just-"

He shrugged, still grinning at you, "I didn't do anything."

"But that girl-"

"What girl?"

He was staring at you, awestruck by your beauty. His eyes were only ever on you these days, and nothing changed that. He didn't look at anyone else, never finding the need to, since he was so hopelessly in love with you. Even when you went to go get drinks for the group, Ace would watch you go and come back, his eyes stuck on your figure. He would stare with the most loving, adoring gleam in his eyes, feeling butterflies each time you returned his smile.

You were still oblivious, "Ace, I think you should talk to one of them. They seem to like you, and you need a girlfriend."

"Well I don't like them," he replied, suddenly leaning forward, "And I already know who I want as my girlfriend."

"Oh." Your face fell, but he was quick to make you smile again.

"(Name), you're so dumb."

"Am not!"

"Are too! I stare at you in every bar and all you think about is me talking to other girls!"

You blushed hard, stuttering and stammering out a nonsense reply, but you found it difficult to argue with that.

"Ace, you deserve better than me. And they're prettier."

"If I really thought that," he leaned in so close that your lips almost touched, "I wouldn't be sitting here with you, would I?" He grinned again. "You're the most beautiful woman in this bar, and every other bar, so I'm happy right where I am."

Then you started dating, and all Ace would do in bars was show you off. To both men and women that approached him, even if it had nothing to do with the conversation.

"Did you see my girlfriend?" He would ask them, drunkenly. "She's the HOTTEST-" Marco would usually have to drag him away before he spilled something more explicit.

Any time a woman would come up to him, Ace would hightail it out of there and do one of two things. One, he would hide behind you and grip you so tightly as he points you in the direction of the daring woman. Two, he would perch himself on your lap and kiss all over your face with his arms around your neck. Each one depends on how drunk he is.

"No thanks, I have a girlfriend."

"My girlfriend's right over there."

"My girlfriend is prettier than you."

"(Nameeeeeeeeeeee), come and tell them that you're my girlfriend!"

He's so in love that he doesn't even pay attention to anyone but you wherever you go. If you tell him to drink less than last time, he will. If you tell him to stay at the table, he will. He will sit you on his lap and lock you in his arms, not allowing you to move for the rest of the evening. He usually falls asleep against your neck, but you don't mind.

But, generally, when Ace is with you in a bar he will keep you glued to his side so everyone knows that he is taken. The brave ones who still approach will usually have to deal with you, and he loves to watch.

Once you're married, you best believe this man is going into every bar yelling to anyone who will listen that he's married, that he has a wife, or that his wife is the hottest person in the universe. He clings to you and makes sure people know you're married, even if they are just passing by and have no intention of talking to either of you.

"How times have changed," you teased him one day, sitting on his lap in yet another bar. "A while back you'd be flirting with every woman in this bar."

"That was before I knew you liked me!" He protested, blushing in embarrassment. "And anyway, that's what happens when you find the one."

"The one?" You blushed.

"Yessss," he smiled happily, pecking your lips. "You're the one. My one. The only one I will ever want and ever need." He peppered your face with kisses. "To me, you're the only woman in these bars."

"Good."

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 12

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s just a bluff, one you’ve perfected over the years. You’ve pulled this trick countless times, especially when someone refuses to give you the information you need. Most crack under the pressure, some get nervous and spill their secrets, just as you want.

But a few? A few see right through you.

And Bucky? He was one of those.

He scoffed, leaning back with that infuriating smirk. "I like this mind game."

You sighed inwardly, knowing you’d lost this round. He wasn't going to give anything up.

The tension hung thick in the air until the bathroom door creaked open, and Nate emerged, oblivious to the storm brewing between you and his uncle. Spotting his small luggage by the counter, he beamed, zipping it open to grab a change of clothes and, of course, his stash of snacks.

With his arms full, Nate wandered over to the both of you and handed each a snack—his favorite, the snack he wasn’t allowed to have at home. His parents and Hazel were strict about it, but he knew he could get away with it here, as long as he shared. This was his little bribe.

"This is my favorite," he said, grinning up at you both.

You couldn’t resist. You pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him gently. “Why are you so damn cute?”

Bucky, knowing exactly how strict Hazel and his parents were about junk food, raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get this? Did you ask the nanny?"

Nate shook his head, completely unfazed. "No. Uncle Steve gave it to me."

That name. The second Nate said it, it felt like an ice-cold bucket had been dumped over your head. You looked at Bucky, and his face tightened. His reaction told you everything—you weren't the only one feeling uneasy.

Something was going on, and Steve’s name was right in the middle of it.

You cleared your throat, determined to break the lingering awkwardness. “Let’s have lunch first. After that, what do you want to do next?”

Nate's eyes widened, his face lighting up with excitement as he turned to look at the spacious living room and the big TV. “Can we watch movies after lunch? Then take a nap together on that big couch?”

He’d seen that in a movie. With his grandparents, he could never relax like that, but he knew his uncles were much more laid-back. He wants to fall asleep while watching his favorite cartoon, being close to his uncle and aunt.

“Sure.” You patted his head gently, feeling a warmth spread through you. Besides, it had been ages since you’d enjoyed a good nap. It felt like a luxury for adults these days.

Lunch turned into a delightful moment of relaxation as the three of you settled around the table. Nate's innocent chatter filled the air, weaving a lightness into the atmosphere that slowly pushed away the tension between you and Bucky. Nate asked questions about everything under the sun—his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he talked about his favorite cartoons and the superheroes he admired.

After lunch, the three of you cozied up on the couch to watch a cartoon movie together. Nate nestled himself right in the middle, sprawled across both of you, laughter echoing through the room.

Within forty minutes, however, the excitement wore him out. He fell asleep, his head resting against your right arm. You smiled, reaching over to gently cup his cheek with your hand. “How did he get such a bubbly personality, considering the Barnes don’t seem to have it?” you mused aloud.

Bucky glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “He’s different, isn’t he?” He reached over to place a soft pillow under Nate’s head, ensuring he was comfortable.

“Maybe my parents realized how strict they were raising me, Shawn, and Hazel. When Nate was born, I was surprised by how much gentler they are with him,” Bucky added, his voice softer, as if reflecting on the changes in his family.

“Do you think Steve has a bright character too? I wonder,” you said, still watching the peaceful expression on Nate's face.

Bucky’s smile faded, replaced by a more serious demeanor. “Why do you have to ruin this moment, my love?” he teased lightly before standing up and walking toward the balcony door. He opened it and stepped outside, lighting a cigarette.

You were surprised to see Bucky smoking; he hadn’t done that since you arrived. You knew he wasn’t a regular smoker, but sometimes the stress got to him.

You followed him outside, the cool breeze washing over you as you stepped onto the balcony. Bucky turned to face you, resting his back against the railing. His head tilted back, looking up at the sky as he released a plume of smoke from his lips.

“There’s a difference between me and Steve,” Bucky said, his voice steady yet reflective. “I got into this because of connections.” He paused, knowing that his privileged background played a significant role in his current position. “While Steve? He started from the military. He had no backup. He had real ambitions.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "You see me as a manipulative person," he said, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "But you have no idea how manipulative Steve is."

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Steve. The insinuation sent a chill down your spine, and you straightened your posture, folding your arms tightly across your chest. You weren't sure if Bucky was trying to manipulate you again or if he was genuinely warning you about something darker. Either way, the unease crept in.

Bucky’s gaze lingered on you. “If you knew… compared to him, you’d think of me as an angel.”

You raised an eyebrow, your skepticism clear. “That’s hard to believe.”

A humorless smile tugged at Bucky’s lips. “He's a man of plans. If you and I think two steps ahead, Steve’s already thought 100 steps ahead.”

You let out a slow, steady breath, the weight of his words pressing against your chest. “That doesn't excuse what you've done,” you replied, your voice low but firm. “You’re still responsible for dragging me into this.”

Bucky's smirk returned, but this time it held something deeper—almost regretful. “You might think I brought you here just for my own selfishness, but it's also for your protection.”

You blinked, the words hitting you like a slap. “You? Protect me? That’s a joke.” You couldn’t help the bitterness that slipped into your tone. The idea that he’d done anything selfless seemed ridiculous.

Bucky's smirk deepened, almost daring you to challenge him. “Like I said before—you can hate me, stab me, poison me. I’ll take it. But you need to know, I won’t let you get hurt.”

The conviction in his voice sent a tremor through you, but you masked it with a sharp exhale. “Who wants to hurt me?”

Bucky's expression shifted, something darker brewing in his eyes. “You can figure out the truth about Nate. I’m sure you can connect the dots.”

You felt your stomach drop as your thoughts raced. Could he be implying…? No, it couldn’t be. But then again, there were too many unanswered questions. “Is this about the election? And Steve?”

Bucky took a long drag from his cigarette before answering, the smoke swirling in the cool air. “You were walking through a minefield, and I got you out before you stepped on something that could blow your life apart.”

His words struck hard, and you bit your lip, turning over the recent jobs you’d taken. None of them seemed directly linked to the election, but you were a journalist with many connections, many stories—maybe one of them had crossed the wrong lines without you realizing it.

“This… this just makes me wonder even more why you chose to support Steve,” you said, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

Bucky stubbed out his cigarette against the balcony railing. “His leadership fits this country. You can disagree with that all you want. But Steve… Steve loves this country.”

You frowned, your mind spinning. Could that really be it? Could Bucky, despite all the manipulations and half-truths, genuinely believe Steve was the right person to lead? Or was this yet another layer of the twisted game they were all playing?

Bucky’s gaze softened slightly as he glanced at Nate through the glass door, the boy still soundly asleep on the couch.

“About Nate…” Bucky hesitated for a moment, and you could sense the weight of the words he was about to speak.

Your pulse quickened, your eyes narrowing as you waited for him to continue.

“I won’t add more to what you already know,” he finally said, his voice heavy with the promise. “Because I made a vow—I’ll take the truth about Nate and Hazel to my grave.”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, and a cold realization settled over you. Whatever secret Bucky was keeping, it was bigger than you’d thought. And it wasn’t just about the election… it was about Nate and Hazel.

“So, I should be grateful that you dragged me out of a minefield?” You raised an eyebrow, the skepticism clear in your voice. “I’m not even sure it exists.”

Bucky met your gaze, unflinching. “Why do you think I’ve supported the independent company where you work?” His tone was steady, calm. “I could’ve ruined it. Could’ve made it go bankrupt, easily.”

Your fists clenched at your sides, heat rising in your chest. His words stung, even though he wasn’t saying them with any malice. Still, you couldn’t help the tension building inside you.

But then his voice softened, the intensity in his blue eyes never wavering. “You probably didn’t realize it,” Bucky continued, “but you’ve already passed through a minefield that could’ve ruined Steve.”

Your breath caught for a moment. Wait. Does that mean he sees me as a threat? The thought swirled in your mind, unsettling you. Was that why Bucky had been hovering around, keeping a close watch?

The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths. You searched Bucky’s face, trying to read between the lines. But there was no malice, no manipulation there—just something deeper, something protective.

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, your voice quieter now, a mix of confusion and frustration.

Bucky’s eyes softened. “I’m not here to control you. I just… don’t want you to get caught in the crossfire of something bigger than either of us.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, the tension still lingering, but his words had shifted something inside you.

"Crossfire?" you scoffed, shaking your head. "It’s ironic, isn’t it? We can talk about other people, stay calm. But when it’s about us? All we ever do is argue."

Bucky’s jaw tightened at your words. She’s right, he thought, his heart aching with guilt. It’s always a fight when it comes to us.

He wanted to say something to ease the tension, but every word seemed wrong. He watched you—how your arms crossed defensively, how tired your eyes looked. Not angry, just… tired of it all.

“I know,” Bucky finally admitted, his voice rough with regret. “I’m the one who keeps messing this up. I keep dragging us into this same damn fight.”

You didn’t blink, didn’t soften. You were too worn down by it all. "Then why keep doing it?" you asked, voice tinged with exhaustion. "Why keep playing these games, Bucky? I’m tired. I’m so tired of being caught in your manipulation. It’s like… you don’t even care what it does to me."

Bucky winced at the rawness in your words, the reality of it hitting him hard. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his mistakes like never before. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping. “I know it looks like that, but… I never meant for it to be this way. I did it because I was scared.”

Your heart clenched at the confession, but the exhaustion was still there, weighing you down. “Scared of what? Of just talking to me? Of being honest?”

Bucky shook his head, stepping closer, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach for you but unsure if he could. “I was scared of losing you again,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I did everything I could to keep you here, to keep you close. But I know I went about it all wrong. I twisted things, manipulated situations, because I thought it was the only way.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening as his words sunk in. He wasn’t trying to push you away—he was clinging to you, so tightly that it hurt.

“You have no idea what that feels like, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “To be pulled into your games, not knowing why, thinking I don’t matter to you. It’s exhausting.”

Bucky’s face fell, the guilt in his eyes unmistakable. “I know. And I hate that I did that to you,” he said softly. “I hate myself for it. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It’s because I care too much, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You could see the truth in his eyes now, the desperation behind his actions. It didn’t erase the pain, but it explained it.

“I was afraid that if I didn’t do everything I could, you’d leave me again,” Bucky continued, his voice shaky. “And I couldn’t take that. Not again. I know I’ve been manipulative, and I know I’ve hurt you because of it. But I was doing it to keep you close… not to push you away. I’m sorry.”

Your throat tightened, the weight of his confession settling in. You hated what he had done, but you could finally see where it came from—fear, desperation, and a love so deep he didn’t know how to control it.

Bucky stepped closer again, this time more confident. “I’ll stop,” he said, voice steady but full of regret. “I’ll stop with the manipulation, with the games. You deserve so much better than that. You deserve better than me, but I’m not giving up. I’ll make things right if you let me.”

You didn’t answer right away, the ache of everything still too fresh. But before you could respond, Bucky took a step back, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible. “But I’ll understand if I already have.”

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[jakeyispuppy]

SLEEPLESSNESS | PARK SUNGOON

🌌 Pairing: Park Sunghoon Perverted boyfriend! x female reader Cute girlfriend who's willing to try new things!

🌌 Summary: The female reader proposes to Sunghoon that they have sex while one of them is sleeping. Sunghoon, thinking about it so much, ends up having a wet dream and from that moment on, he can't go back to sleep without imagining the things that could happen while the reader sleeps.

🌌 Genre: Smut.

🌌 Words: 1K.

🌌 Warnings: Sunghoon as a pretty dirty pervert!, somnophilia, vulgar language, unprotected sex, Sunghoon makes a mess in the reader's panties!, nicknames, established relationship, nipple stimulation, wet dream, fairly explicit obscenity, nipple play, getting caught in the act. (Sorry, if I missed any tags)

Sungghoon didn't know how he'd ended up like this: With a boner pounding against his shorts in the middle of the night. While you were sleeping peacefully next to him, oblivious to the mess your cute boyfriend had created.

It had all started yesterday morning when you were in the kitchen, washing the dishes after breakfast. The question came up as something monotonous, something simple that seemed the most normal thing in both of your daily lives. But it wasn't. At least not for Sunghoon:

"Hey, baby," you called out as he sipped some water. His eyes scanned you, reassuring you that he was paying attention. "What do you think about doing it while one of us is asleep?"

Your question came out so naturally that Sunghoon almost spit out his water. Sunghoon placed his glass on the counter and looked at you with a frown. Were you sure he'd heard correctly?

"What?"

That was the only thing that escaped his lips as you chuckled softly.

"I'm serious," you said with a smile.

"So..." Sunghoon cleared his throat, looking at you in a mixture of disbelief and surprise. "Would you like to try that?"

You looked at him amused and nodded.

"Yes, but if you don't like the idea..."

"No, I mean..." Sunghoon scratched his neck and looked away, ignoring your curious, mischievous eyes.

He didn't even know what to say. But even though the idea sounded so strange to him, he couldn't deny that he felt strangely aroused just imagining you at his mercy. Vulnerable, able to do whatever he wanted to you, while being completely sure that you wouldn't be mad at him for doing something like that the next day, because you were perfectly fine with the idea, or that's how it sounded to him when your words left your lips.

"So?" You asked once again, looking at him slyly.

Something in Sunghoon's expression changed. His previously restless and confused eyes seemed glossy and filled with intensity as he licked his lips, scanning you.

"If that's what you'd like, I'm... I'm fine with that." Sunghoon looked away. You noticed his slightly flushed cheeks and chuckled.

That was how it all began. But Sunghoon couldn't forget that conversation all day, and now, in the middle of the calm night. After having an intense dream about you, his imagination was taking its toll. His cock ached and his breathing was labored as he watched you lying on his chest with one leg draped over his, your breathing calm and your body relaxed.

He really wanted to see you like those other nights, when you seemed so peaceful and tender. While he gently stroked your hair. But right now, just seeing you wearing a pair of panties and one of his button-down shirts, Sunghoon felt an immense desire to fuck you, even more so after that dream.

It was your fault that he wanted to take you like this now, even though you were on your fifth dream. He just wanted to get rid of his damn erection, caused by all the suppressed thoughts he'd had yesterday.

Scene after scene replays in his head, as if it were imprinted inside his brain. As if that lustful dream had been more real than just a trick of his mind. Sunghoon runs his hungry eyes over your sleepy body. Your swollen lips, the way your knee occasionally brushes against his erection, your breasts peeking through your white shirt and that tiny pair of plain, black panties.

His trembling fingers run over the soft skin of your arm. Gently. With no intention of waking you up. His fingers rise to your neck, gently touching it, raising goosebumps and causing you to stir, letting out an incoherent murmur before lying still again.

Sunghoon lets out a stifled sigh and brings his hand to your cheek, gently groping it. Then you stir again. Your knee brushes against his bulge again, causing a grunt to escape his lips.

Sunghoon could have simply gone to the bathroom and cleaned up his mess, but he can't forget your words. You gave him an invitation to... He used you, and he just wanted to fuck you now. When you looked so beautiful and vulnerable to him. He felt like a fucking pervert with an absurd fetish that made his cock harden with every passing second.

Sunghoon leans closer to you, his lips gently pressing against your cheek. His hand travels to the leg you have draped over his and moves it slightly, squeezing and massaging your thigh lazily.

"Fuck, why do you have to do this with me, babe?" He growled through gritted teeth, saying it more to himself than to you.

Gently, he positioned you so you were lying face up on the bed. His thumb probed over your panties, pushing up against your clit, making you shudder in your sleep. He couldn't hold it in anymore!

Sunghoon slowly lowers his shorts and boxers, careful not to wake you. His cock bounces against your abdomen. Rising, rock-hard, the tip; dripping with precum.

He's not even thinking. He aligns his cock with your clothed pussy, and then the only thing on his mind is the way his cock is now rubbing against your panties, soaking them with his precum. He keeps thrusting between your clothed walls, the underwear becoming more and more transparent, and his free hand pushes your leg to the side, giving him more access to your pussy. His head falls back, his eyes close, his lower lip ends up between his teeth, bitten down hard to silence the moans and groans that want to escape his lips.

Sunghoon is making a mess of your panties. But he doesn't care; to him, you look fucking good with your panties damp from his own arousal. The thought of you waking up is still on Sunghoon's mind, and it still worries him, because despite what you told him, the fear mixed with his arousal is still latent on his skin. He feels a little more daring and moves the hand he's holding your leg to your panties and moves them to the side, not taking them off, just opening a small opening to begin inserting his tip into your hole. He's not even seriously penetrating you; he just slides his tip in without even touching you and repeats his action desperately. He's seriously making a complete mess.

Your body feels strangely dreamy; for a moment, heat runs through you, and you feel aroused and dripping. But you think it's just a wet dream, until you hear Sunghoon's soft moan, making your eyes widen in confusion.

But Sunghoon is too focused on cumming in your panties, moving his hips back and forth. His tip thrusting in and out rapidly and his moans are music to your ears. If you weren't completely sleepy and now also horny because of your boyfriend, You'd probably be more than thrilled with the scene.

"Hoon..." You gasped, half asleep, clinging to his shoulders to make him stop.

Sunghoon looked at you, half scared, half excited, not stopping his movements. Fuck, he was terrified, but he didn't want to stop. His desire to fuck you was driving him crazy, and now that you were awake, he wouldn't let you close your eyes again.

"W-what... Are you doing?"

"I was so turned on by your fucking fetish for fucking while you sleep, and I..." Sunghoon let out a growl as he thrust his cock into your pussy, drawing a muffled moan from you. "Fuck, baby, you squeeze me so tight. You're so fucking hot when you sleep, you know that?"

Your words didn't leave your mouth, you just clung to Sunghoon's shoulders. Unable to utter words when his cock was filling your pussy, rubbing against your clit and bruising your entrance roughly. Not to mention the mess between your panties and thighs. He'd seriously become obsessed with the idea of ​​fucking you while you slept, and you loved it. You didn't think he'd agree, but now that you're seeing it with your own eyes. Sunghoon's eyes filled with lust, his lips parted, and the babbled curses escaping his lips. It was a fucking paradise for you.

"Please, Hoonie... Don't stop," you begged, on the verge of collapse.

Sunghoon didn't wait any longer, and with a smile that revealed his fangs, he thrust his hips once more, drawing a moan from you. Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes closed, and your legs buckled. One of Sunghoon's hands hurriedly unbuttoned the buttons of the shirt you were wearing, revealing your breasts that bounced under his hard thrusts.

Sunghoon leans down and captures your left nipple between his lips, making you shudder. He sucks, licks, bites with his teeth, and finally pulls out, eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from you. Your slippery panties collided with his cock as it thrust hard into your pussy, while he continued to pound into you, delighting in your breasts.

A spasm ran through your body, and you clenched around Sunghoon, making him smile.

"Hoonie..."

His name fell from your lips in a moan, "ah!" Swept away by a lascivious kiss that Sunghoon placed on your lips without warning.

"Come on, babe; let yourself go for me," he growled against your lips, biting your lower lip and pulling it forward.

Your thighs tense and your pussy tightens around his cock, both of you moaning, letting go from the intense sensation that shakes your bodies. Your orgasm ripples through you: intense, painful, and making you tremble slightly with repeated spasms. Sunghoon climaxes too: his hot cum falling in thick drops inside you and escaping down your thighs.

Sunghoon drops his head onto your chest: exhausted but completely happy. You stroke his hair, relaxing from your own high.

The room falls silent for a few seconds until Sunghoon finally speaks.

"Sorry," a clumsy apology fell from between his lips.

"Why?"

Sunghoon looked at you in disbelief and pointed his finger at you completely.

"For this, damn, I turned you into a mess," he complained, pursing his lips, and you laughed in amusement. "It's not funny," Sunghoon grumbled, changing completely. The Sunghoon, full of lust and insatiable desire, was gone, and now only a shy and sweet Sunghoon remained, embarrassed by what happened.

"Hoon, look at me."

You asked him, watching him raise his face, his cheeks slightly red in embarrassment.

"It was perfect, you know that, right, love?"

Sunghoon sighed and hid back in your neck.

"Are you really not mad?"

"Not at all. After all, I always knew my cute boyfriend wouldn't resist fucking me any way he wanted," you joked, eliciting a nasal chuckle from him.

"Shut up," he complained, sitting up in bed.

You laughed and copied his action.

"Let's take a shower and then go to sleep," he told you, getting out of bed.

You nodded, feeling a little tired now. But relaxed.

"Sounds good."

"Unless..."

Sunghoon paused briefly, raising an eyebrow at you curiously.

"You want to do a repeat of what we did in the bathroom," he joked in a mischievous tone, making you laugh.

"Park Sunghoon, you're seriously a pervert!"

©All rights reserved.

For translations or adaptations, please remember to ask my permission beforehand.

[jurijyuu]

I wanna take a ride on your radio stick (Alastor x Reader)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

AlastorxReader Smut

Summary: Being sick sucks ass. Unfortunately, your boyfriend is the Radio Demon who’s too busy to keep an eye on you as you recover. As you sleep through your cold, your boyfriend leaves you his mic to keep in touch in case you need help.

Note: No, you do not use his mic as a dildo. That's Vox's kink.

What's in Store: Gender-Neutral Reader, Masturbation, Dry Humping, Established relationship, Male Masturbation, Alastor discovers ASMR

Your POV

When you woke up delirious and exhausted one day, your boyfriend practically panicked. It was odd to see him fret, so unsure and unsettled over a cold. It’s not like dying from illness in Hell would be permanent either so his frittering about was completely uncalled for.

Darling, have some soup. Darling, drink some water. Darling, I brought some medicine. Between your fuzzy senses and bleary awareness throughout the last couple of days, these moments of attention and care piled up into memory. Ah, but he really was sweet even when his worry was unnecessary. When you were better, you would pay him back.

That said, for the first time in days, you felt somewhat clear headed, the fog of sleep no longer clinging to you in moments of consciousness. You tried to remember how long you’d been out. Three days? Four? Alastor would know but the deer man wasn’t here. Weakly, you searched for his presence. The house was silent except for the sounds of the bayou where your shared home stood, no footsteps on creaking floorboards or humming as he went about his routine. You did, however, sense his power. It was faint compared to what he exuded but it was there, not too far from you. Turning to the side, you found his staff leaning neatly on the nightstand.

Right. He had business to attend to at the hotel. You vaguely remember him telling you that earlier along with how he’d leave his microphone here just in case you needed to contact him. Why he refused to get even just a pager, you really didn’t understand. But you weren’t complaining right now. The faint trace of his magic from the microphone was comforting in the absence of the man himself.

Sluggishly, you crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for the staff to bring into bed with you.

“Al?” You called weakly hoping to hear your boyfriend’s voice but only received silence as a response. So he was too busy. Unfortunate, though it’s probably for the best as you only wanted to hear him and that wasn’t a good enough reason to interrupt his work.

Still…

Closing your eyes, a few memories flitted through your mind. A calming hand, and sweet murmurs asking if you were feeling better, what did you need? Your lover had always been good at caring for you but it was never with quite the amount of tenderness your faint memories provided. He’d sounded so unbelievably sweet that you regretted not being able to see him through most of it, fighting for consciousness as you were. Your heart clenched and stuttered thinking of your tall menace of a gentleman actually being a gentle man.

It could have been your fever or just your imagination trying to fill in the blanks of what face your usually chipper lover looked like as he cared for you but you felt flush as you laid in bed. Alastor…

He usually grinned a toothy smile meant to intimidate or fool anyone into thinking he was always having a jolly good time. But on occasion, you’d caught him with a small one, eyes half-lidded, lost in a soft sweet song from yesteryear, oblivious to the world. Sometimes those eyes would be looking at you, something electric lighting them up when you looked back at him.

Had he looked at you with that tired and lazy stare? Waiting patiently for you to get better as he took care of all your needs from changing your clothes to even bathing your body.

Heat pulsed down your body to between your legs. That wasn’t the fever. 

With a groan you turned to your side, the faint wave of arousal heating you up as it passed through you. Should you? Shouldn’t you? If you waited long enough, it would go away on its own. But then again, this was a rare opportunity to help yourself since Alastor was out and left you alone for once. 

Your throat felt dry as the arousal continued its slow but blaring spike. Ahh fuck it. You blamed your still feverish mind for giving in to quick relief.

Reaching into your pants, you fondled your sex through your underwear, gentle and slow, almost shy. When Alastor touched you, it was always urgent and demanding, his dominant personality on full display even as he was servicing your body. But what you wanted right now was that soft Alastor.

One faint memory in particular came to mind. Your body had been burning hotter than it was right now.

“Oh dear. You’re sweating so much, darling. Let me wipe you down.”

His ungloved hand reached out to help you sit up against the headboard, careful not to jolt you too harshly. There was a faint sloshing of water. With your eyes still sleepy, you didn’t see him but he must’ve rolled his sleeves up, coat put away somewhere since he was home.

“Easy there. Let me take off your shirt, sweetheart.”

Your heartbeat picked up as you remembered the faint brushes of his fingers as he unbuttoned your sleepwear. With your free hand, you imitated your imaginary lover. Those long fingers peppered little touches on your chest, on your sternum and down your belly, another wave of heat following their path down but never quite reaching where you’d wanted them to go. He was always a tease.

Your breath hitched as you imagined him looking at your bare chest, one strong hand firmly keeping you in place against the headboard as the other went to grab a washcloth. Did he rub little circles on your clavicle with his thumb while he was at it? You’d like to think he did as you replicated his motions, rubbing your thumb in light circles over your sex.

This soft Alastor didn’t speak much, not wanting to disturb your rest more than he already was. Instead, he crooned a soft melody, keeping you teetering in limbo between wakefulness and sleep as your body grew hotter. 

A cold cloth passed over your shoulder causing you to keen, your nipples hardening in response to the imaginary chill, something your lover probably noticed. With firm yet gentle strokes, he patted the wet cloth against your sweaty body, each touch so gentle that it stoked a fire in your belly. Every time the cloth was washed, wrung and brought back to your body, you hissed, the cool sensation a stark contrast against your heated skin and heated core.

“Almost done, sweetheart.”

He was talking in a lower tone, almost whispering, voice turning the slightest bit gravelly. This was supposed to cool you down so why was it getting you hotter? And did he notice that the flush creeping up your chest had nothing to do with your cold? 

Finally, he’d finished wiping your back and arms, tossing the washcloth into the basin with a loud splash.

In reality, he’d dressed you up in a new shirt and you went back to sleep but not this imaginary deer man.

“Oh darling, you still look so flushed.”

Clawed hands gently cupped your heated cheeks, their coolness shooting straight to your aroused sex in a way that was a little embarrassing given that your man was only trying to clean you up. And even with your eyes closed, you knew he noticed, his stare feeling electric on your exposed skin.

“Oh I might have missed a spot.”

There was a light teasing in his voice, only masked by the rough murmur it had turned to. You heard the water slosh again. A cold and slightly rough sensation brushed against your erect nipple. You moaned in shocked pleasure as it jolted lighting through your body. A similarly shocked gasp came from your imaginary Alastor, a light break in his static as his hand lightly clenched.

You felt boneless as his other hand guided you to lay back down as he cooed softly. 

“Your fever is back up, darling. Let me try to cool you down.”

The washcloth rubbed lightly against your other nipple and your stomach clenched. It felt so good. He kept at it, playing with one or the other until you were a writhing mess. You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy. 

“Shhh sweetheart. Let me take care of you.” 

One claw tip, razor sharp, lightly flicked your nipple, rubbing on it just a bit before tracing a line down your navel, down your bellybutton and stopping just at the waistband of your pajamas before ghosting over your sex.

He said nothing but the sound of his chuckles transformed that sweet face into his usual smug one. Arrogant prick. He was planning to tease you til you begged, wasn’t he? You were almost tempted to let him play with you until you got to that point. A wicked smile stretched in his face.

“Don’t tease me, Al.”

“Tease you, dear? I’m just trying to clean you up. Sit up so I can put a new shirt on you.”

You wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face. Fueled by arousal and spite, you imagined pulling the deer man into bed with you, tossing him over until you had him under you. You imagined straddling his skinny waist and letting him feel the results of his ‘cleaning up.’ With your hand still cupping your heated sex, you ground down on it only to gasp when something cool bumped into the back of your hand.

Breaking away from your fantasy, you spot Alastor’s staff under you, faintly buzzing with your lover’s magic. Again, you blamed it on your fever but having something of his right there as you imagined topping your arrogant radio man was too delicious to resist.

Taking your hand away from your sex, you positioned the length of the staff to align with your core and then lowered yourself down. The cold metal glided against your sex as you rubbed yourself on it. It was too thin but if you closed your eyes, you could imagine that you were holding your skinny deer man, rubbing yourself against his equally hard cock.

Fuck. It shouldn’t feel so good but it did. You swung your hips a bit to feel more of that length, the harsh metal rubbing at just the right places to send pleasure up and down your spine. The fantasy in your head shattered as something else replaced it. 

You held onto the microphone tighter, pulling it closer to you as you imagined your Alastor walking in on this display. Coming in from a hard day’s work only to find you so desperately chasing release against his microphone. Could he hear the sounds you were making?

A moan escaped your lips. He would be so stunned. He didn’t know that you were this horny. He was always so proper and only recently accepted intimate contact. How could you tell him that you just wanted to rub yourself all over him? Feel the hard planes of his body against your skin. Push him down and ride his cock until he was a mess of screams and broken radio static. He was so sensitive, so new to sex. You wanted to ruin him for anyone else.

He’d never let you be on top though, too busy wanting to fuck you into the mattress. Gods, he was rough. He’d thrust with all his lithe body, wringing screams of want and desperate pleasure from you until you skull banged against the headboard. Then he’d kiss you to pin you in place. 

Of course you wanted to do the same to him so why not start with this part of him? The mic had a capped bottom, giving you a lovely ridge to play with. Pushing the staff under you, you desperately humped against that ridge, delicious friction sending unimaginable thrills up your spine and all the way to your head until it was empty except for that pleasure.

“Alastor.” 

The microphone head pressed into your chest, its ridges lightly rubbing against your skin and your nipples with each roll of your hips, shooting little jolts of ticklish pleasure through you. Ohh it felt so good. You gasped and moaned as you reached higher and higher peaks. Could Alastor hear what you were doing? The thing was always on so he probably could. Was he listening to you fuck yourself against his mic while sitting in a meeting, unable to leave? Were your cries throwing off his focus? Was he itching to come back home to you and see exactly what you were doing?

“Allll—“

Could he feel your heated sex as you pressed it against the length of his staff? The thing was a part of him after all. If so, how was he feeling right now? Scandalized? Aroused? Horrified? If he were here, would he push you away or take his microphone’s place? Either way, his clawed hand would have to grab you by your hips as you continued to gyrate against his staff. The ghostly sensations of his hands on you fueling the fire coursing through your veins. Fuck! You were so close. 

You pinched your nipple as you ground down hard, your fingers joining the staff in teasing your sensitive sex, the pleasure building up until you tipped over the edge.

“Al! I—I’m coming!” You moaned into the microphone, wanting your lover to hear your pleasured cries, all cares gone with the wind as you rode your high into unconsciousness.

Alastor's POV

A meeting with the Princess of Hell was the last thing on his mind right now. A sick lover awaited him at home, needing to be cared for, but he was forced to come to this useless meeting instead. So very unfortunate. Given, the recent announcement of the new extermination timeline was a huge concern for the girl but that was honestly not his problem to worry about so long as the hotel and his business partner remained unscathed.

Needless to say, the princess was determined to ‘speed up’ what progress she could on getting their two guests to achieve redemption.

“Volunteer work idea! We can do volunteer work as part of our redemption path. Doing good deeds is part of being a good person, right? Well, we should help out some of the sinners in the territorial war districts.” Charlie raised up one of her hand drawn illustrations showing what he assumed to be the said territorial war zone. It depicted the hotel crew helping clean and bandage the wounded and helpless.

All so very trivial given those souls would respawn in time unless they were faced with Carmine weaponry. In that case, and in all cases really, those souls should have known what they were getting themselves into when battling for territory. He’d thought of a hundred ways the princess’ idea could go wrong and was about to suggest them when he heard a familiar voice ringing through his mind. He picked up the signal from his microphone.

“Al?” Voice hoarse from disuse, his little darling called out to him once you had woken up. How he wished he could come to your side right at that moment. The few times you had been coherent during this whole ordeal had been far too few and short. A hellish flu was so uncommon and there had been no ways to heal from it other than to wait it out. 

He reevaluated what he needed to do. On one hand, he could be helpful and plan this whole redemption exercise for Charlie to ensure no trouble occurred. However, the princess took a very hands-on approach to things. Bringing up any problems would only prolong the meeting…He sighed internally. What to do?

With half an ear to the chattering princess, he focused the other half of his attention to whatever sounds his microphone could pick up. If anything alarming was transmitted, he was ready to shadow home as quickly as possible.

“…We can implement a buddy system. It’s a little dangerous to just go alone and…” Ah. For once, the princess recognized a flaw in her plan before he even had to mention it. Wonderful. She was learning to be a bet—

“Ah…oh..”

Any admiration he might have had for the princess’ awareness of the dangers her plan posed was halted by a breathy moan in his mind’s ear. Had you gotten hurt trying to move around? From how delirious you had been prior, he could imagine you falling off the bed trying to look for him or care for yourself. But he hadn't heard any noises indicating an accident.

Immediately, all his focus moved to his microphone, magick at the ready to bring him back. Charlie’s plans would have to wait. He was about to apologize to the princess and leave when another sound, a soft sigh of pleasure entered his mind.

What?

It was soft, so very soft, but your rhythmic breathing was steadily increasing in pace, dotted with little sighs and shy moans. He knew those sounds all too familiarly, aimed to bring them out as he played with your body most evenings. Surely…it wasn’t what he thought it was? 

A high keening sound, muffled slightly and marred by the transmission’s static pierced his mind and smothered any doubt he had about exactly what he was hearing. 

The sound of your whines rang in his ear, reverberating through his head like a dinner bell and awakening a hunger he’d only ever felt with you. Sinful little thing. You had to know that he could hear you with his microphone so close to you. You were doing this on purpose! His static crackled as your noises picked up.

Your muffled cries increased in volume and urgency as he could now hear the subtle rustling of bedsheets moving with you. Whatever fantasy had brought you to touch yourself, you were currently lost in.

He twitched as tendrils of arousal slithered their way into his veins. His wicked lover was casting a siren call, delirious, weak, deliciously vulnerable and obviously asking to be fucked. 

He took a slow breath to cool the heat starting to rise in his body. Why did you start this now, of all times? He’d been with you for days before this! Your timing was terrible. Or maybe you had planned this, wanting him to come rushing to you as soon as possible. His teeth clenched in his smile.

Why was it that the first thing you did when you finally had the energy was to crave sexual fulfillment? To pleasure yourself when he wouldn’t be there to assist you? 

It was debased and primitive of you. He wasn’t sure whether to be irritated by your lewd behavior or proud. But he did know that your little act was stirring things south of where was appropriate in front of the princess and her girlfriend. Keeping a neutral expression on his face, he shifted slightly where he stood by the princess’ desk. He needed to get them out.

In a bid to keep his composure, he played a little jig from his chest, something light and cheerful, a complete and total clash to the heat building below his belly. If he waited just a bit more…but Charlie looked ready to burst into song. He couldn’t have that.

“An excellent idea!” He chimed, cutting off whatever Charlie was saying. Both women turned to him, one in pleasant surprise and the other curious.

“Really?” Charlie sparkled at his half-serious agreement, throwing beams of sunshine from her eyes that only served to irritate him further. The heat running up and down his body made him even more impatient with the princess’ inane suggestions. 

“Yes. Why don’t you scout out the perfect area for us to do this little venture. Have to ensure the safety of our guests, after all.” Before the women could get their bearings together, he was already gently pushing Charlie out the door, with her tail of a lover sure to follow. “Make a day trip of it, even. I’m sure there’s lots to see.”

“H..hnnnggh..!” 

His smile almost cracked at the delicious whine that poured from your darling mouth. He wished he could be there to drink it up right at that moment. But composure. Composure. Disguising the sense of urgency pumping through his system with enthusiastic chatter about casualty statistics and needing to ensure they didn’t overstep into Overlord territories, he managed to get the two women out of the shared office space in record time. 

“Have fun now, you two.” He waved them off, their faces a little bewildered but they didn’t really have much of a choice after he’d closed the door on their faces.

The door rattled in his haste but he managed to lock it quickly. He once again tried to summon his magick to bring him away when a croon reverberated through his chest.

“Alastorrrr…”

His breath caught. 

Static ran up his spine to the roll of those pleasured r’s. He’d never admit to how his knees buckled at the sound, a unique quality he could only attribute to his darling. But it was different somehow. A wicked idea popped into his mind, the static filter in his love’s voice adding a certain flavor he’d never associated with sex before.

Making sure to seal the room so that not even a speck of dust could get in or out, he sat down on his chair. With a flick of his wrist, he transferred the transmission from his mind to the radio sitting at his desk. From there, your voice played.

“Don’t tease me, Al.” 

“Oh but aren’t you doing the teasing here, darling?” He smiled deviously, imagining your face as he said so. You wouldn’t have heard him muse back. For what he had in mind, he’d made it a one-way broadcast purposefully.

Another sigh escaped your lips sending heat down to his already aching member. With deft hands, he unbuckled his belt, slowly easing himself out of his slacks. The hair of his navel stood on end at the rush of cold air hitting the sensitive skin. His cock stood ready and weeping from just the sounds of your debauchery. It was truly pathetic but you had that effect on him. He palmed himself briefly, imagining it was your hands taking him out of his clothes. Shy and careful. You were always very gentle with him. And it drove him mad with want.

Grabbing his cock, he started to stroke, slow at first, getting a bit faster as more of his precum leaked out. From the radio, he heard rustling. He could picture it then, your skin gliding in the sheets of your bed, a thin layer of sweat giving your flushed face a delectable shine. You writhed with want, unfulfilled and calling for him. Your labored breathing sounded lovely and lewdly through the radio.

He groaned, eyes closed as he pictured being there with you as you crawled over to him, hands greedy to stroke his member. The sheets rustled as they tugged at your knees, too eager to disentangle yourself from the blankets. Your hands delicately wrapped around his cock, face aglow as you admired it. You looked so ready to take it into your little mouth.

He hissed and stroked, slower this time to match his image of you. He licked his lips as his breathing quickened.

He’d never understood the appeal of listening to such filthy broadcasts. Saw it as a distasteful use of air time that could have been used for news, jazz or something else. He’d tried it once and could only grimace at the theatrical moaning of the actors at the station. The storylines were ridiculously shallow too.

But with you on the other side, a broadcast exclusive for his ears only…He shuddered, ears twitching to catch the lightest of sounds for his mind to work into fantasy. His hips thrust up into his hand, presenting you with a prize you so very much wanted. Naughty little thing.

The broadcast buzzed sharply, sending a jolt through his chest in shock. Something had hit the microphone. For a moment, his heart stopped, thinking that you did end up over extending yourself and collapsed. But just as quickly, a new sensation started.

“Fuck!”

His free hand rushed to gripped the armrest of his chair tightly. It was the only way he could channel the sudden rush that overtook his body, lest the hand squeezing his cock tighten too much. Something hot and moist pressed against his extension and he nearly choked at the sudden pressure.

He could feel it! A silky glide. He could feel you, your hot sex rubbing up and down against the shaft of his staff, his mind directing that sensation to his crotch. A shiver ran up his spine, the ghost sensations of your hands trailing along his staff being mirrored onto his body. 

“Fuck.” 

A similar curse whispered huskily through the radio. So he wasn’t the only one feeling sensitive. You moaned as he felt the corresponding brush of your sex against his staff, against him. Sweat collected on his brow as his body grew hotter in response. It was as if you were there with him.

“Ah—Alastor!”

“Yes, darling? Come and rut yourself on me. Let me feel you.” His free hand traced up his chest, claws mimicking the way you would slowly and intentionally trail your fingers up his body when you were being intimate. Tugging at his shirt teasingly, your hands lightly splayed against his chest. He arched his back into the touch. You knew how much he liked your touch. Always tracing lines along his shoulders, counting his ribs. 

“Oh..” He groaned, hand moving faster along his cock as you found a steady rhythm to pleasure yourself to. He could feel the ghostly heat and slick of your fluids starting to smear and make a mess of his microphone. His thumb brushed the weeping red tip, paying close attention to smear his precum, imagining it was yours starting to coat his cock.

“Hmnngh. Al—feels good.”

“Does it, darling? Hn. You’re making a mess. I’ll have you clean that up, you know.” As if you could hear him, another pathetic whine squeaked through his radio feed. His static broke at the sound. “Yes. You’ll have to take responsibility for making it so filthy.”

He could feel his extension get crushed between your body and the mattress, your body heat getting relayed onto his own. You were so desperate to bed him, keening and moaning sloppily to a fantasy him of your own design. He did the same. His mental image of you bent down, face close to his cock, breath brushing teasingly over the sensitive tip, waiting for his command. He smirked through the buzz that ran through his body at the pathetic sight, concentration going blurry as lust took over.

“Use your mouth.” 

Another high pitched whine. You bent low, static-filtered breathing feeling so close and warm on his cock. He summoned a tentacle to join his hand in working his member, its slimy texture a poor replacement for your tongue but…he growled at the first lick of it…good enough. As long as he thought it was you, it would be good enough. His teeth dug into his lip, stifling his groans as he guided ‘your tongue.’ A slow lick on each of his balls, up the underside of his cock, teasing the vein there that you knew he liked. 

“That’s good, dear. Ah! So good. Let me reward you.”

His free hand twitched, imagining reaching for your hole, working you open slowly with his fingers. The silky walls of your cavern were a familiar sensation his brain provided in the absence of the actual thing. His fingers pushed in and out slowly, tracing the outer edges before dipping back in. Your moans were constant now, a never ending chant of your pleasure and his name. His head swam with sensations, imagined and transmitted. A part of him reveled in this pleasure you gave him, that you didn’t know he was partaking in. 

“That’s it, darling. My darling doe. Take your pleasure…” He gasped, the muscles in his stomach growing taut as the coils of ecstasy wound themselves layer after layer. “…give me mine too. Make me cum with your mouth.”

From your sounds and the rough brushes of heat ghosting along his body, he could tell you were close, riding that fantasy of yours without reservation.

“Not yet, dear. Hnngh. Not..yet.” It was getting harder to breathe as his heart pounded, trying to reach that high while you were still going. He needed the stimuli. He craved it. He was so close. The wet heat from your body transmitted from his staff to his cock, your voice garbled pleasured sounds from his radio. So close. So close.

“Al! I—I’m coming!”

“Wait, darling. You can take a little more. Just a bit—”

But his plea didn’t reach you. He heard you scream directly into the microphone, so loud and amorous that his mind stuttered, worried that the sound ringing through the room would somehow escape and be heard by some passerby. 

All at once, he lost the rhythmic strokes against his body as your undulating stopped. Your salacious broadcast had ended.

He rutted up into his hand furiously. He hadn’t finished yet, but he was so close, a bit feral as he tried to reach his own high now that you had achieved yours. But it was no use. His tentacle stroked precum and slime-slick pumps against his cock but without your voice, or even your ghostly touch, it felt like nothing. He growled, frustrated, slamming his hands against the armrests as he leaned back into his chair, defeated.

“Fuck!” What a tease! An absolute menace! He cursed you as he tried to calm himself, scrubbing his clean hand down his face. Massaging his temples, a realization dawned on him, reaching his orgasm was next to impossible now. He breathed deep.

But his blood still pumped in his veins, hot and wanting. He couldn’t regain his composure, too worked up. His hand reached to pull off his bow tie and free his neck to get some air. It didn’t help. You damned sinful temptation. He never had to suffer such irritating incidents like this before you. He growled and hissed, a primal aggression taking over. 

This was why he had been happy to never feel these urges. It was crude, having his mind controlled by his lower body. 

No matter, he would get you to fix it.

With one final deep breath, he stood and tidied his desk, making sure to leave nothing amiss. There was no point in tidying himself up. Not when he intended to make a mess of you in just a moment. At the thought, he decided to let you see the proud work you’d done on him. He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. You liked seeing him disheveled, more casual as you put it. Your heartbeat always picked up at every little show of his skin.

It was with this appearance, top buttons undone and slacks clinging onto his hips by some work of demon magick that wasn’t his, that he teleported back home to you. He was ready to see your surprised face, flushed still from your orgasm and slightly disoriented. Then he’d fuck you back into your coma for daring to pull such a stunt in the middle of the day. He buzzed at the plan, cock aching once again.

When he’d stepped foot into your bedroom, the sight that greeted him was a disheveled lover, hand still in clutching onto his microphone as you dozed. Seeing you weak and asleep, the urgency in his body cooled slightly, worry taking its place. Immediately, he’d made it to the bedside, checking to see if you were alright. 

Light breaths. A small sigh of relief escaped his lips before his stomach clenched to remind him of his current predicament. His eyes roamed your body, making sure you were alright. When nothing seemed amiss, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He’d suspected the possibility that you had passed out after your performance but the disappointment in seeing you unconscious still stung. 

Up close, he could see you, feel you, smell you. You reeked of cum, having fainted as soon as you’d climaxed. How filthy. How divine. The scent was wonderful, heady and musky, traces of your activity still lingering in the air and on his microphone. The fire in his belly roiled to life once again. Stupid little thing. Making his life just that much more difficult and wonderful than it already was.

Precious, lewd little thing. His heartbeat quickened as the rush of lust came back. He’d had all intentions of taking out his frustrations on your more than willing body but seeing you like this, needing your rest, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t get his end. With one knee on the bed, he approached you, wanting to be as close as he could without disturbing your slumber. His hand found his needy cock once again, palm warm and inviting as he stroked from the base to tip. His other hand wound itself in your hair, gently petting you and relishing your warmth as his hand worked his member over your sleeping form.

His ears picked up the sound of your breathing, gentle and soft, just like everything about you. And you let someone like him defile that softness. He swallowed, drool already pooling in his mouth at the meal in front of him that he could not devour as he wished to.

The smell of your shared bed, your sex, your cum, your want lingering in the air. It enveloped him completely. This was his home. His den. His lover. His mate. While the little broadcast was exquisite, the live thing would always be better.

And he can wait for you to get better. Oh, all the things he would do to you once you were well. Just, he needed to take the edge off a little. He breathed in and let himself get lost in the feeling, the heat of his body rising and he got close to his climax again. His hips bucked into his hand, chasing that high as he watched your peaceful face. Shudders racked his body. He was so close. If only he could hear you call his name with that pretty voice of yours.

“Alastor?” His breath hitched. His hand had unconsciously clenched in your hair, not enough to hurt but it did stir you awake. His eyes met yours and his climax finally hit him under your stare. The knot in his stomach unwound and he watched his cum spurt without his control. Some of it splattered onto your bewildered face, causing you to flinch. 

“D-did you just…?” A small hand went up to the new stains on your face, wiping the smear onto your fingers as you studied it as if you couldn’t comprehend exactly what it was. Fair enough. This wasn’t behavior he ever would have done before he met you. He was slightly embarrassed by that but there was something satisfying about seeing his cum on your cheek.

“Well, you did too, didn’t you?” A clawed hand carded through your hair, slightly smearing it with his spend though you were still too bewildered to notice. His voice was husky, still riding high as his body sang in completion. You blushed madly as you remembered what you’d done and why he was here, like this.

“T-that’s—“ 

“Hush. Don’t worry about it, darling. Though it did get me a little worked up.” With a few snaps of his fingers, you were both cleaned up and the bed made around you. It took more effort to do as all he wanted to was collapse next to you but no. He had to make sure you were comfortable before he did. As lovely a sight that you made, he wouldn’t let you rest in filth.

Neither of you spoke as he climbed to his side of the bed, sitting against the headboard while you looked at him from where you laid. Perhaps your stillness slowed your brain processes as well. You still seemed tense, shocked. He started petting your head, an action that calmed you just as much as it did him. He needed just a few moments. 

When complete clarity finally returned to him, he faced you, a teasing grin on his lips as his eyes narrowed.

“I hope you know…” He leaned down to peer into your eyes, holding your gaze and relishing his lone figure reflected in its shine. His eyes roamed over your body, a slow take that he was sure you caught before he looked into your eyes and continued. Despite having only just finished, electric lust still buzzed in his chest, vibrating through his voice as he growled low a promise to the little troublemaker. “…that when you’ve fully recovered, darling, you shouldn’t expect to get out of this bed for a long while.” 

Beneath his palm, you trembled, your little shakes traveling from his fingertips to his cock. Your eyes switched from confusion to dread, sensing the underlying threat and seduction in his tone. He traced a lazy pattern on your cheek, cupping the supple flesh to feel the fever induced heat. Like a demure little creature, you leaned into his touch. 

And like the wretched little thing you were, you casually drew his thumb into your hot mouth, all of that sweet dread replaced by even sweeter confidence. With eyes never leaving his own, you gave his thumb a bold slow lick. He held back the urge to press his thumb down into that lascivious tongue. 

“Looking forward to it…” The tease had the gall to smirk at him, teeth lightly prickling his captured appendage. Clarity and mirth sparkled in your eyes. “Lover.”

AO3