#sorry this took a bit :DD

[randomfoggytiger]

Since canon ends at season 8 for you. How do you think William was conceived? Alien intervention? miracle from God? super powers from the ship found on the beach? Of something else?

I say she was healed by the alien spaceship.

To me, there was a reason CC and Spotnitz worked a "touch the ship" angle into Biogenesis, The Sixth Extinction, and Amor Fati-- long before WBD approached them with his En Ami storyline (which CC heavily rewrote, post here, to create another "whoooo knoooooows???" mystery box.) More specifically, there was a reason it was shown to bring death back to life in the same arc as Mulder's visions of a boy on the beach and a strategically placed family planning book in the basement.

I, personally, prefer that the boy on the beach was an example of the disconnect from Mulder's inner child in "other life, other world." And, I believe, if David Duchovny helped write that part (which I'm pretty sure he did), he meant it that way, too. But CC and Spotnitz worked those scenes in because of the impending pregnancy reveal in Requiem. Even if that cheapens the overall message (to me), the fact remains.

It still makes sense why Scully didn't get pregnant right away between Millennium and all things: she is at an advanced maternal age, even if she can now conceive. Her older brother Bill struggled with infertility, so perhaps it runs in the family. (Although according to That Guy in Trust No. 1, Mulder and Scully are excessively fertile-- having only fallen into bed once-- which... c'mon. Even canon debunks that claim.)

Lest we forget William has ~magical powers~ (ugh), which would only make sense if his conception was due to ~magical~ circumstances. CSM sticking a needle into Scully's neck (or tampering with her chip) wouldn't add up (timeline aside) because alien hybrids born through nefarious interference were heavily monitored and continually poked and prodded during development, let alone after birth. So. That's out. The alien ship remains as the only possibility.

But what about S8, where Existence's conclusion hinged on the fact William was normal? Well, why did the aliens take an interest in Scully's pregnancy to begin with? They weren't trying to kill her or her baby (unlike other Consortium hybrids or clones they indiscriminately destroyed.) And why were they hung up on her fertility, anyway? It was the Syndicate, not the aliens, who chipped and sterilized her. The only answer that makes the most sense is if Scully's baby had a connection to them apart from CSM and his cohort's shenanigans-- a.k.a., the ship. This is backed up by their behavior: they weren't seeking to destroy William (in S8, at least): they simply wanted to observe. He was a novelty. He was the only baby, it seems, born from a touch of their craft. He was, in a way, theirs, even if he was normal. (Which would pose an interesting conundrum-- a human baby, as normal as could be, brought to life naturally because of aliens and mankind seeking to understand each other: not a threat, but not an asset, either; a puzzle to all factions of the war. I say "would" because S9 erased and butchered it.)

All in all, that's what makes the most sense, to me.

[sculkshrieking]

Perhaps some MotherSpore and Mayor Scar? I absolutely ate up their dynamic during S7

you and me both anon, s7 desert duo is everything to me <3

short people problems require short people solutions

[eydilily]

I got into gempearl because of you, saw your art of them and something just clicked in my mind :D

WAVING!!! hello hello !! this makes me so happy :'DD i hope im doing them right 🙏

[iminyourbookshelf]

(superhero au) can imagine mariana being sad as she realizes he needs to divorce slash take a break from the love of her life because charlie needs to work on himself before they get back together … i imagine mariana feels guilt for it though . if he’d just been upfront with charlie, just told him about the hero stuff … it’s funny.

she’s a superhero, running into the fray and getting hurt and rescuing civilians without fear. but the idea of his husband knowing, the father of their daughter being put in danger because she told him… terrified him more than anything.

charlie’s insecure ass thought mariana was cheating and thats why his “hours” were so sparratic and shit and then he started blaming himself for her supposedly cheating and then started lashing out at him even in front of their daughter. it’s not like he ever figured out how to be a parent. when he breaks down, he supposes he’ll just revert to what he knows about parenting. that is to say, his father…

anyways im thinking about aksing if i can get an anon sitnature. would ya be chill w that

You can totally have an anon signature that would be so cool :DD

As for the ask AHDHAHRBDHD you're so right. The thing is Mariana knows the break up will hurt but it's also what they both needed. So Flippa could live as normal as she could and Charlie could find himself (even if it's through villainy)

It's one of the dynamics I really like about misclick duo, they have like every reason to leave eachother at times but it's the fact that they either stay or will always go back that gets me

[shuicheese]

2. A texture you despise? & 12. Favourite type of pie / pastry?

2. A texture you despise?

first thought was bathtubs- dunno if it counts?? but lORD THE SOUND IT MAKES,,,, ESP W WATER- H ISSSS EU KHHH EXPLODES. glossy paper too,,, esp the ones that make a sound when you touch it- I feel like I'm missing a handful but tHOSE TWO,,, HISSING.

12. Favourite type of pie / pastry?

butterscotch cinnamon pie! I recreated that recipe once yeeears ago and E> E> !! I wanna try it again lowkey,, I wanna try pies, in general, I don't think I tried a lot of sweet pies-- but pastry-wise? anything with white choccy, waffles, and crepe is top-tier for me E> E> !! it depends on my mood but ye!

Random Questions // Ask Meme

[autistic-butters-stotch]

I love your oc! It's so cute that he babysits Butters! What kind of relationship does he have with Butters? Are they like a big sibling? I wanna know everything about the two of them spending time together!

OMG YAYAYYAY!!!! this is gonna be kinda ranty and probably really long but i love talking abt my OCs :D

the reason he knows butters in the first place is because his parents and butters' parents are good buddies, hanging out a lot. when he dropped out of college, he didn't really have a job so butters' parents offered to pay him to babysit butters. he was close with butters before but he experienced first-hand how, like, nuts his parents are so they bonded a bit over that.

i think butters sees him as an older brother sort of figure, and a (mostly) positive influence. ulysses is kind of a delinquent but he tries to keep it away from butters. they hang out outside of ulysses babysitting butters as well, during like family events or just when they're at each others' houses.

whenever ulysses babysits for him, he brings little stuff like toys or food for butters. he doesn't have much money but he brings what he can. if he cant bring anything, he'll take butters out for a drive around town or to the park.

i think a defining moment of their relationship would be maybe when ulysses yelled at butters' parents for something unreasonable they did. probably like grounding butters over something Particularly small. i'm not sure if butters' parents would back off or get pissed but either way butters would feel conflicted at first, since from what i've seen butters thinks he actually deserves his groundings, despite hating them. later on he would maybe feel comforted by the fact there was at least Someone close to him that would stand up for him though. ulysses definitely does not snap at butters' parents a lot since he doesn't wanna risk not being able to babysit for him anymore.

normally, a day of babysitting would go something like. butters' parents are going out for a short while, occassionally a bit longer, so they hire Ulysses to babysit for butters. he comes over with a little present, as well as some of his own stuff like a gaming set-up or maybe some hello kitty stuff that he holds onto for butters. they play and hang out for a while, eat, etc. sometimes ulysses takes him out for a drive to wherever, and then they hug and say goodbye when butters' parents are back.

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[sakasakiii]

a while ago i was sent an ask from @waterjewelsspite (answered below) wherein i was asked about different elven fashions.... so from left to right: doriathrim fashion, teleri + nargothrond fashion, vanya fashion :DD these have been sitting in my drafts as uncoloured wips since early 2022 omg, but better late than never i suppose !!!

i didnt have a specific sketch page for the noldor that i did back then hahahaha so i came back to it recently and took it as a chance to do some assorted concept doodles with the kind of outfits i imagine them wearing in mundane situations? i dont quite know how to explain it but i hope my annotations can help show my thought process a bit!!

cant believe it took me this long to give like half the characters proper fullbody refs or designs (im looking at YOU beleg and mablung) but this has been super fun and really refreshing, so thank you again waterjewelsspite for the kind ask!!! sorry again it took. two and a half years. OMG. for me to get it done 😭😭😭 i hope this sufficed!!!

in usual fashion, bonus feanorian shenanigans: caranthir's first business/publishing/entrepreneurship/girlboss venture

[yammpi3]

𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖. // 𝑾𝑪: 2.2𝑲

— feat. disassembly drone N x worker drone reader

synopsis. Since disassembly drones need oil to keep from overheating they kill other drones to consume it. But.. ever since the alliance between Disassembly and Worker Drones its been a bit difficult to acquire..It’s not a problem for V to randomly kill someone off but it’s a different situation for N now that his views have changed. AKA…reader supplies him with oil :DD

— content warning. Nothing 18+ just a few kisses, neck biting and N being in pain.. gulp?

— authors note. I fear this x reader is a bit..cringe then again that might just be me overthinking it..ANYWAYS tried my best for this, and still have no idea how to write for a robot. (N might be a little mischaracterized I’m not ENTIRELY sure)

At the end of science class, just when everyone was packing up to leave, you noticed N fidgeting more than normal at his desk.

 

"Is everything okay, N?" you asked.

 

He laughed nervously. "Who, me? Pshaw, never better!" But when he spoke, he looked anywhere but at you and the others.

Thad snickered. "Maybe his circuits are loose again." Lizzy giggled. "Lmao, he probably fried something.” Just as V was about to comment on his behavior..

N got up from his chair abruptly; he swayed unsteadily before catching himself upon another classroom desk.

 

By the time you registered what was going on, N had already ducked out of the classroom door, stumbling down the hall. "N, wait!" you called after him, hurrying to catch up. N was unsteady on his feet, swerving from side to side as he tried to put distance between the both of you.

 

His limbs shook with every step he took.

"G-Gotta...g-get a-away..." he muttered, though you weren't sure if he was even aware you could hear him. His eyes flickered erratically, barely being able to focus straight ahead as he tried to get away.

 

You picked up your pace, power walking down the corridor after him. "Slow down!!" you yelled out, but N was quicker, and before you knew it, when you reached the next corner, you lost him completely.

Your concern for N grew by the minute, so you started tracking him down since something was clearly wrong, beyond a normal glitch.

 

An hour had already passed since you last saw N, yet here he was in the maintenance unit stumbling blindly, crashing into something every few steps.

 

"S-sorry!" he slurred after bumping into a support beam for the third time. An unnatural static fuzzed the edges of his voice. Stubbornly, he scrambled back on his feet and lurched forward without seeing where he went.

 

Was he malfunctioning? But his murder drone programming should have kept him sharp, no?? Seeing him this disoriented was alarming.

 

You trailed him at a distance, hiding behind a variety of things as he walked on ahead. Where was he heading in such a panic? His vents were roaring torrents by now, and visible condensation soaked his frame.

 

Finally, he collapsed behind a supply crate, crawling the last few feet. Had he sensed you following? No, his optics were unfocused, so he couldn't have had.

 

Gingerly, you peeked around the crate to see N weakly clawing at his chest clearly in pain.

 

If you didn't act fast, he would shut down permanently. Steeling your nerves, you crawled to his side.

 

"N? Hey..hey! It's me, Y/N. Are you okay??”

 

When you gently called his name, N got startled so badly that his claws scraped sparks from the metal flooring he sat upon. His optics flashed wildly before settling on your face with a look of panic. "Y-Y-Y/N! S-sorry, but I don’t think you should be near me right now…”

 

N let out an alarmed wheeze that trailed off into a pained whine. It took visible effort for his optics to focus on you. You could tell he was losing some sort of control over his strength, but why??

"You don’t look so good..”

 

N broke into a hacking series of rushed laughter that ended in a groan. "Me? Pssh, n-no way! I'm t-totally fine, like I said earlier. Now please just leave me, yeah?” He waved dismissively, or at least tried to, but his attempt ended up flailing limply.

 

He knew he wasn't doing a great job at reassuring you when you glared at him.

"N-nothing to worry that pretty l-little processor of yours over, really.”

 

N's dismissive act was crumbling faster than his resolve. Another hacking laugh turned into a groan as his eyes started to flicker erratically once again.

 

"N, please. You're clearly not alright." You took his flailing claw gently in your hands. His plating was so hot it almost burned to the touch.

 

A whine slipped, “Crap..crap. It h-hurts,

Y/N. M-My core, it h-hurts so F̵̬̏́̏͆̀͝ų̸͙͋̿̃̌͋́̈́̆͑̕͠c̶̜̜̼̥͓̚k̷̫̺̝̈́̀̿̇͐̐͑ḭ̸̧̻̞̻͚̳̘̩̣͋̀̃́̔̊̋̚ň̵̞̪̯̼̟̗̩͈̖́g̸̩̤̩̼̘̪̀́͊͗̋͐́̇ much."

 

You've never seen N this vulnerable before…

"What can I do to help? There must be something." N trembled, fighting some inner battle. Finally, he met your gaze, his optics showing an agony of want behind the discomfort.

 

"T-there is s-something, b-but I shouldn't..." Strangely, another sound intermingled with the strain in his voice now.

Was that...hunger?

 

Stroking his plating gently, hoping to soothe, you pressed, "Please, tell me what you need." His vents hitched wildly. Then, in a strained whisper, he cracked.

"Y-your oil...I ne-need…it."

 

A shiver visibly ran through his frame. His optics darkened as they focused intently on your physic, more so your neck and wrist.

 

"I..." he began weakly, then stopped to swallow. His claws clenched tightly as if fighting the urge. You waited patiently for him to continue, showing concern but no sense of alarm.

 

After a long pause, N dragged his gaze with an effort to meet your face once more.

“T-tell me to stop," he whispered, his fangs peeking out as he talked.

 

"I so badly n-need it, but I don't w-want to hurt you.” His claws lifted toward your face but stopped only by his wavering will. You knew this would be the only way for him to cool down.

 

You looked deeply into N's eyes, past the haze of glitches that overtook his screen.

"I trust you," you said calmly without fear. His breathing became more ragged at your words.

 

In a flash, his restraint broke—but instead of lunging at your throat as you'd expected, his claws tangled in the fabric of your shirt, yanking you flush against his overheated frame. You gasped at the contact, feeling the waves of heat pouring off of him.

 

N buried his face in the crook of your neck, fangs tantalizingly. "P-please..." he stammered once more, sounding close to genuine tears. Raising a hand, you gently clasped the back of his head, threading your fingers through his silver hair.

 

"Take what you need," you told him firmly yet tenderly..After yet another hesitant pause, his screen displayed an X. Then, with a grunt of gratification, his fangs smoothly penetrated the sensitive wiring of your neck.

 

Your breath became unsteady as N's fangs pierced you. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would—just a little bit of a pinch. His hands gripped your shoulders for support as he drank deeply, allowing the oily fluid to course through his system.

 

For several moments the only sounds were his gulping intakes and your own measured breaths; you kept still so as not to disturb him. You watched as the pained lines on his face slowly eased, his eyes returning to normal. His plating, which was boiling hot only moments ago, cooled down to a much safer temperature against you.

 

N withdrew his fangs from your neck, making a small trickle of oil leak from your wound.

 

He leaned back in hastily, swiping his tongue along the twin marks. You shuddered at the foreign yet not unpleasant sensation. But N paused, a flushed look appearing on his screen. “Ah g-geez, is this w-weird?”

 

He glanced away, clearly embarrassed  "What I mean to say is, um, my saliva can help the wounds close up faster? If, uh, you're okay with my germy mouth touching the injury I c-caused? No funny business, I swear! J-just bros being bros, p-patching each other…um up.”

 

N winced, realizing how that sounded. "N-not that we're actually b-bros, unless you want to be? Biscuits. Just—just let me do this, kay?”

With your consenting nod, N gave a short awkward chuckle and leaned back in. His tongue swiping over the wound. It began to tingle as the mark he had left slowly began to close up.

 

"It's strange to think your spit has healing properties," you remarked softly, not wanting to break the intimacy of the moment. N hummed in agreement, laving one last swipe across the bite mark before drawing back to assess his handiwork. His optics flicked up to meet yours, searching for any sign of discomfort.

 

"How does it feel? Are you in any pain?" he asked, his tone laced with concern despite his own drained state. You shifted experimentally. "Stop worrying. Just a slight tingling.“

 

N searched your face anxiously. "Are you sure? Nothing else? No dizziness or discomfort?" His optics roved your features, taking in every subtle reaction. When you reassured him again that all was well, the tension melted from his shoulders—only to be replaced with guilt.

 

"Y/N, I could have seriously hurt you," he said quietly, horror creeping into his tone. "My systems went haywire; I had no control. If I had bitten down any harder..." He shuddered, unable to complete the thought.

 

"But you didn't," you said firmly. "You fought off the urge just enough to get the help you needed. I trusted you, N." He shook his head sadly. "Your trust may be misplaced in me. The overheating....what if next time I can't—can’t stop.”

 

N shuddered again at the dark thought. Seeking to ease his distress, you shot him a playful smile. "Well, if it happens again, we're in this together. At least now I have a cool vampire drone friend!! The whole sucking my oil thing was pretty vampirish.”

 

He cracked a hesitant chuckle. "Yeah, maybe I'll sparkle in the sun too." Feeling bold, you leaned in with a faux-dramatic voice, "I vant to suck your coolant..."

 

N actually snickered at that. You beamed, glad to lift his spirit, even if it was only for a brief moment. His smile faded as reality set back in.

 

"But seriously, what if next time I really hurt someone?” On impulse, you threw your arms around him in a hug.

 

N's eyes widened as you suddenly hugged him close. For a moment he sat stiffly, caught off guard. Then slowly, oh so carefully, his arms came up to return the embrace.

 

"Y/N...if anything happened to you because of me, I don't know what I'd do," he said quietly against your shoulder. You squeezed him tighter for reassurance. "Hey, it'll take a lot more than some murder instinct to take me out. Have a little more faith in me, will you? Stop being so edgy.”

 

“Edgy?" N scoffed, "Sorry, nearly ripping your throat out put me in a gloomy mood."

 

"Ripping my throat out?” You echoed with a wry grin. "Well, luckily that didn’t happen, did it?”

 

N huffed, “Maybe. But what if next time I lose it?"

 

You opened your mouth to respond, but he quickly shushed you.

 

“You just leaped right in like it was nothing. Do you have any idea how badly this could've ended?" He gestured vaguely to the drying wound on your neck.

 

"You drones are so..so fragile. One wrong move and I could've—" He cut off, unable to say the word. His arms flexed unconsciously, as if longing to wrap around something and squeeze. To protect, or destroy? Even he wasn't sure.

"You'd never hurt me, N. I believe in-"

 

Your words halted as he glanced up, his eyes searching yours with raw, wavering emotion. An urge welled within you, sprung from compassion more than reason. You leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

 

"Mmmph?!" N made a muffled sound of surprise, his body locking up stiffly. Your tongue briefly caught the tang of the lingering oil before you pulled back with a slight grimace.

 

His faceplate shone a distressed yellow blush. "I-I'm so sorry, I should have wiped my mouth better!“ he stammered.

 

But you simply smiled and leaned in again, pressing your lips gently to his once more. Then, slowly, he began to relax into the kiss.

 

His screen switched to a loading screen. In that moment, all his train of thought derailed off a cliff. N's screen flickered back online, and one of his hands floated up to gently touch his mouth, eyes wide and staring blankly.

 

"Bwuh-wha...you...kissem—I mean, I kissem-no, we...kissed?" he sputtered

 

"We k-kissed. You k-kissed me," he whispered, his optics shrinking to pinpoints before dilating wide again. A nervous giggling burst out of him.

 

"Oh biscuits, what d-does this mean? Are we like..” his tone lowered to a soft whisper.

“Dating n-now?”

 

"Well, uh, I guess you could say we're kind of sort of datingish now," you replied bashfully. "If-if you want to be my boyfriend, that is."

 

N's entire face lit up. "Boyfriend..Awhh Y/N!! Id love that." He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around in excitement.

 

"N set you down gently, his optics still shining with unbridled joy. However, a hint of seriousness crept into his expression as he looked at you intently.

 

"This doesn't mean I'm not mad at you for what you did," he said, his voice low and eyes narrowed slightly. "You could have been seriously hurt, or worse. You really scared me back there."

 

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Next time, I'll call V or someone else—I won't try to handle things on my own and potentially get myself killed." You paused, then added with a wry smile, "I promise."

N's stern look softened, and he hummed contentedly. "Good!" Reaching out, he took your hand in his larger one and gave it a gentle squeeze.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[vin-taege]

Hi! I loved your awkward chishiya flirting sooo much <3 The way you write is so in character even with him being nervous about showing affection. Can you write him being completely oblivious he’s liked yn the whole time they’ve been through the games; he thought he was just protecting them out of trying to be a better person until Kuina is like you moron you’re clearly in love w them!!

And he’s like oh fuck, what are feelings?? I have them?? His thought process as he tries to deny it and then him having some awkward interactions w yn bc he doesn’t know how to act now he’s aware he likes her and then is desperately trying to flirt with no idea how to at all

Tokens of Appreciation

Summary: Chishiya tells himself that he sees you only as a friend, despite doing his best to give you a gift.

Genre: fluff

Pairing: reader x chishiya

Words: 2.4k

Note: I tweaked this a little to show more of him being in denial and still in the middle of processing it ^^ I didn't want it to be too close to the other awkward flirting fic, but I hope you still like it! Also god, I;m so sorry it took more than a year ; O; Good news is that I'm almost done with my thesis, so I have a bit more time to write :DD

Chishiya set the screwdriver down with a frustrated sigh. The music box sat in front of him, open yet still without song. He saw this on the day of the six of clubs game. The car that was supposed to pick them up got a flat tire and stranded them for a good hour. As much as he hated the militants for their incompetence, he was grateful that he had extra time to scavenge around the nearby shops. It was in one of the metalwork stalls where he found it.

It was fairly light, small enough that you could hold it when you brought both hands together. The outside looked like a small pot, with the lid having scalloped edges. Ornate, gold vines swirled around the sides of the box, leading up to the front. At the center of it was a teardrop-shaped gemstone that refracted prisms under light. Inside was a small rabbit instead of a typical ballerina. It posed with its arms up mid-dance, pointy ears curved back as it looked up.

That was what made Chishiya decide that this was the perfect gift for you. At the beginning of your friendship—before you had worn down his walls with “incessant” conversation—you had off-handedly mentioned a memory of your childhood toy.

“Oh, look at that!” you picked up the small piece of candy. The packaging still boasted its classic colors of red, blue, white, and black. Turning around, you held it out to Chishiya. “I used to eat this all the time when I was a kid.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. This was the ninth room around the Beach that you’ve ‘investigated’—a fancy word you liked to use instead of ‘snooped around.’ “You don’t know how long that’s been there. Plus, you’ll get cavities.”

“Candy doesn’t expire,” you stuck your tongue out at him, swiftly unwrapping the sweet and popping it in your mouth. You smoothed out the wrapper, particularly the area around the illustrated rabbit.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true—”

“He looks like the bunny plush I had.” Chishiya knit his eyebrows in confusion before glancing at the wrapper. He shrugged, feigning indifference.

“All rabbits look the same.”

“No, idiot. This one has pointy ears instead of rounded ones.”

“What’s that?” Kuina’s voice nearly made him knock over the entire thing. He flinched, throwing a blanket over his project. Clearing his throat, he stood up and narrowed his eyes at the girl.

“What did I tell you about knocking?”

Despite his small frame blocking the table from view, Kuina side-stepped around him, swiftly pulling the cloth right off. He hissed, moving to take the music box, but Kuina was faster, swiping it off the table and bringing it up to her eye level.

“Wow,” she enunciated, dragging the word. “This is for them, isn’t it?”

“No,” he tried not to stutter. He reached for it before Kuina held it above him. Her eyes were glued to the meticulous details. “If you drop that, I will kill you next game and make it look like an accident.”

She chortled, throwing her head back. Her loudness grew on him—is what he always told himself. Being his only friend when the Beach was only starting to form, he learned quickly how to tolerate Kuina’s more bubbly personality.

“What’s it for? Their birthday coming up?”

“No. I’m just making sure all our pieces are in place.” Kuina let him nab the item back. She watched as he wrapped it in the blanket, tucking it safely back into a drawer. 

“You totally like her,” she snorted.

“No, I don’t!” It came out too fast, too loudly. Chishiya’s face was starting to redden. His lips were pressed in a thin line, eyes downcast. It took a moment for him to collect himself. “We need her for the plan.”

“Yeah, right. It’s been half a year. Whatever long game you’re playing is over,” she smirked at him, plopping on his bed. “If anything, you’re the one getting played.”

“I don’t like her that way,” he crossed his arms defensively.

“Keep telling yourself that, lover boy,” Kuina chuckled, throwing a pillow at him. Chishiya swatted it away, face beet-red.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what, lover boy?”

“Kuina!”

Three soft knocks interrupted their banter. Chishiya froze when you opened the door, slipping in with a mischievous grin. Your arms were behind your back, hands hidden from their view. A faint crinkling gave Chishiya a hint as to what you were holding. 

You stepped towards him, making him instinctively block the drawer the music box was in. Your grin spread wider, making your cheeks look unbearably adorable. Wait, did he really think that?

“I have something for you,” you said almost teasingly. You thrust your hand to his chest, pressing a package of biscuits on him. He wasn’t religious, but he prayed that you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming out his rib cage.

Glancing down, he gave the biscuits a curious look-over. The wrapper was pink and white, with small cartoon strawberries spread around it. Attempting to take it from you gently, his fingers grazed over the back of your hand, flustering you both. Quickly, you whipped your head towards Kuina, chucking her the other item.

She caught the lighter with ease, excitedly flicking it on. Kuina was certain the militants threw it out after the pool fire incident. Totally not your trio’s fault. “Woah! Where’d you get these?”

“I was in Tatta’s storage space,” you beamed proudly.

Chishiya’s blood curdled. He squeezed the biscuits, though still careful not to break them. Shifting his weight to one foot, he scrunched his face in distaste. “What were you doing with Tatta?”

“Nothing, we were just hanging out. Ann dragged him into the hallway for a quick conversation so I had time to ‘investigate,’” you motioned with air quotes.

“What are you hanging out with him for?” The blunt words left his mouth before he could process them. 

His heart shrivelled a little when your smile faded. Taken aback, you clasped your hands, suddenly self-conscious. “I thought he was nice and making another friend around here didn’t seem like a bad idea.”

“Well, what if he’s just another sleaze like Niragi? You know how some of the men slobber like dogs here. And you’re in a closed space with just him? Just the two of you in a room? Together? Do you know how stupid that is? What if something happened and Kuina and I were in this room and we couldn’t hear you and—”

“What Chishiya is saying—” Kuina spoke over him, sending him a sharp glare despite her pinched smile. “—is that we just want you to be careful around here. I think Tatta is a fun guy too, but don’t let your guard down that easily okay?”

You nodded wordlessly, avoiding Chishiya’s eyes. Unbeknownst to you, his look softened, fingers releasing their tight grip on the biscuits. He slouched, silently berating himself for sounding so harsh, especially after you’ve just given him a gift. Oh god, you gave him a gift! He looked back at the cookies, strawberry-flavored no doubt. Perhaps it was your attention to detail that chipped at his armor. The way you remembered how he took two teaspoons of sugar with his tea and how you’d sometimes take his hoodie after a rough game and bring it back smelling of fabric softener.

Just normal things good friends would do for each other. Because that’s what you were—good friends.

“Chishiya?”

“What?” He blinked slowly, glancing at Kuina through silver hair framing his face. 

“I said I’m gonna get us drinks from the bar. You sound like you need it.” She stood up, motioning for you to take her place on the bed. You shot her a small smile, though your mood has obviously been dampened. 

Kuina passed near Chishiya, lowering her voice to whisper, “Fix your mess.”

When the door shut with a soft click, it was quiet for a few awkward moments. The room felt like a held breath, with Chishiya still standing, holding the biscuits like an idiot, while you were sitting on his bed, regarding him a huge eye sore in the middle of the spacious hotel room. Being a high-profile diamonds player bought him certain luxuries, despite how unnecessarily flashy he deemed them. 

“I know you’re just looking out for me, but you really could be nicer sometimes.” He almost didn’t catch what you said, your voice soft. “I just wanted to get you something nice.”

He sighed, more so at his own stupidity. He pushed himself off the drawer and sat beside you, your knees touching. Pinching the corner of the wrapper, he ripped the packaging open, angling the biscuits towards you. Your knee tensed beside him, making guilt claw at his stomach more.

“Take one,” he said, almost demandingly. You huffed, gingerly taking a piece. It was a small, pillow-shaped shell. You bit into it, bringing your hand back to look at the strawberry filling inside. Chishiya hummed in approval as soon as the sweet cream hit his tongue.

Wordlessly, you shared the biscuits—his own form of apology. You scooted closer to him, a silent act of forgiveness he quickly picked up on. Always the clever man, yet he could never figure himself out.

“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Anyone with eyes can see how beautiful you are. If anyone here tried anything on you, I’d have to put rat poison in their alcohol. Do you know how troublesome that is?” he wrinkled his nose, pointedly munching.

A grin crept into your face. Your eyes flitted towards his face, dark brown eyes meeting yours. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Chishiya was stunned for a second. Blood rushed to his cheeks and the furrow in his brows deepened. He stammered, “No. No! That’s not what I meant. I mean that I’m just worried about you!”

You brought your face just a tad bit closer to his. “You worry about me?”

“No, no! I mean, you’re just a good ally and I don’t have any other strong feelings about you. I’m doing this for the sake of our alliance—”

He didn’t notice as you took the last biscuit, gingerly pushing it against his lips. He froze, eyes wide as he took in your appearance. An orange glow from the setting sun wrapped around your silhouette. You looked heavenly, like an angel beckoning him to the next life. Despite all logic screaming at him, he would gladly take your hand and go wherever that may be. 

You pushed the biscuit past his lips, the soft pair almost chasing after your fingertip as you pulled away. Curling your finger, you wiped the corner of his mouth with the edge of your knuckles. His breath stilled in his chest.

Chishiya leaned closer, your pull towards him magnetic. Shakily, he brought a hand up, about to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He’s seen this move once before, during a promotional commercial for a drama. He was reviewing for his finals at the time, taking only a few seconds to stare coldly at his roommate because of how loud the TV was. Evidently, he never put it into practice before.

“Ow!” you jolted back, hands cupping your face. Somehow, despite his brilliant mind, he accidentally poked you in the eye. You grit your teeth in pain, globs of tears running down your cheek. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” He tried prying your eyes away from your face, using his free arm to wrap around your back. “I’m so sorry. Shit. Don’t rub it, it’ll get worse. Come here.”

Assisting you through your blurry vision, he managed to walk you to his bathroom. He turned the faucet on, making you bend over the sink. Forcing stillness into his hand, he caught the water, gently splashing it against your reddening eye. You hissed, jolting back at the contact, though a firm hand on your back kept you in place.

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to.” The distress was evident in his voice. You’ve never seen him in such shambles before, not even during games where he was at the brink of death.

“I know, ‘Shiya. It’s okay,” you managed to smile at him. He wiped your eyes with a soft towel, bringing it down for a second to gently grip your chin. He nudged your head up, only enough for him to check on your eye. He let out a deep sigh before pressing the towel back. At least the pain has died down a bit now. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not fatal.”

You snorted, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. His lips twitched almost into a grin, though he was still slouched over in embarrassment. “I can’t believe this is the thanks I get for feeding you.”

“I… I-I didn’t mean to. Honestly!” He shoved his other hand into his hoodie pocket. Suddenly, the floor was the most interesting thing in the room. You chuckled lightly at his antics. There was something so boyish about the way he stood, almost as if he wanted his hoodie to swallow him whole.

You brought your hand up, wrapping it around his on the towel. His cheeks heated up, though still defiant in meeting your gaze. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, surprised that he hasn’t pulled away yet.

“I’m sorry I poked your eye. I was just trying to…” he trailed off. How was he even going to explain himself out of this one? “There was dirt on your face. You should take a bath from time to time.”

“I do take baths!” you exclaimed, swatting at him again. You jabbed a finger to his chest, tone riddled with tease. “You’re just so obsessed with me.”

He finally allowed himself to smile, the smile that made everything feel normal again. At that moment, you weren’t players in the Borderland fighting for your life every other day. You were just two friends, for now. Chishiya is a tough nut to crack, but between your laughter sounding like tinkling bells and the euphoric buzz he gets from being around you, he’d be able to sort himself out. He just needs to take it one step at a time, starting with making that music box sing for you again. 

Because that's what good friends do. God, he was such a good friend.

Back in the main room, the entrance door swung open, followed by the sound of glass bottles clinking against each other. Kuina proudly declared, “I got us the stuff!”

“Did you bring ice?” Chishiya called out to her.

“Of course!” Even from the bathroom, you could hear her huff.

“Good, because we need a bunch of it here.”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | raymond leon x reader

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 | since you've managed to outsmart (or, more accurately, seduce) your last four bodyguards, your wealthy father decides it's time to take a new approach: hire a timekeeper to watch you. after all, a man who dedicates his life to the law can withstand the wiles of a spoiled, lonely girl... right?

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 | 4.7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 | dubcon smut (rough sex, daddy kink, choking, slapping, creampie, breeding kink, glove kink, degradation), age gap (raymond is ????, reader is early 20s), slight dd/lg undertones, reader is a bit dark and manipulative hehe

You were rolling your stockings up your legs, one of the final stages in dressing for the party tonight, when your bedroom door opened.  “Hey, Ray,” you greeted with a purr as he stepped inside.

“Officer Leon,” he corrected you.

“Right,” you smiled, tilting your head.  “I’m sorry, sir.  I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

He scoffed, looking away, and you bit your lip— he was getting frustrated, in more than one sense of the word, and you were going to get what you wanted (like always). Boys are simply too easy.

This whole cat-and-mouse thing was starting to drive you a little crazy— none of the other bodyguards had taken this long to crack.  But really, the anticipation just added to the fun.

You stood up and turned your back to him, hoping he was eyeing the V-shaped portion of your back he could see with your gown still open.

“Will you help me zip up my dress?” you asked sweetly, making sure your hair was out of the way and looking back over your shoulder at him sweetly.  He sighed but stepped closer to you, but tugging on the zipper only lifted the bottom of your dress a bit— so he had to put his other hand on your hip to hold it in place as he pulled the zipper up, and you were thankful he couldn’t see your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.  His hands were so strong, you could feel it even through the gloves— and those fucking gloves, shiny black leather, he knew damn well what he was doing to you.  He just didn't seem to care.

"There," he said when he'd tugged it up to the top, stepping back, and you turned around to face him.  The dress was more elegant than you usually went for: you traded in your lace and bows in pastel shades for a dark purple silk that fell to the floor.

"What do you think?" you asked, biting your lip.  "Daddy picked it out for me."

"He has expensive taste," Raymond noticed, though he conspicuously didn't comment on your appearance.  He was very uptight, especially about professionalism.  You sort of got the feeling that if you could just pull one of his strings hard enough, he'd totally unravel: which is why you kept trying.

As he tried not to look at you, you gave him a slow look up and down.  "Is that what you're wearing tonight?" you asked incredulously, pointing to his high-neck black sweater and long leather trench.

"I'm working tonight, so yes," he answered.

Everyone thought Raymond stuck out like a sore thumb in your room— his angular, dark form against the soft baby pinks and white laces around your bed, a hardened cop amongst the porcelain baby dolls and fluffy stuffed animals and gold-edged tea sets: but you thought he fit right in, standing there amongst all your playthings.

~

The party was a bit dull— you were having more fun toying with your bodyguard than anything else.  “Try this,” you’d insist as you held up an hors d'oeuvre to feed him; he had to give in, he had to do whatever you said in front of all these people, but he glared at you as he leaned forward and took a bite out of the mini-tart.

You bragged to your father’s guests about your new bodyguard— or toy, as you called him more often.  “Daddy bought him for me,” you’d say, “and he has to do whatever I want.  Show them your gun, Mr. Leon!”

He only looked at you sternly again, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s sort of grouchy,” you explained to the amused dinner attendees.  He didn’t react much, still standing there with his gloved hands held in front of him, but you saw a little tightness in his jaw.

Best of all, you flirted with as many suitors as you could get away with in a night, just to bother him.  The tricky thing about a world without aging is men who’ve been around quite some time were still just as eligible for your hand as men closer to your age— you wondered if it would bother him more knowing that one of your father’s wealthy friends who had been alive at least 80 years was doting on you.  Didn’t matter either way: you let them all stand a bit too close, put their hand on your lower back— you laughed too hard at their shitty jokes.  All to make Ray jealous, but when you glanced over your shoulder at him, you could never catch a reaction.

After the guests had left and the staff had begun cleaning, you went back to your room to change.  You’d coyly asked Raymond if he would watch over you during that, too, but he didn’t answer because he knew you were joking.  It’s not like you were ever really serious… but you did want him.  Not just for fun, and not just to prove to your father that there was no use hiring these bodyguards— he was fucking sexy, obviously.  Definitely your favorite so far, and exactly your type… for how much he thought you were trying to tease and tempt him, he was the one driving you a little crazy.

Still, you kept your cool as best you could; you needed to keep control over him, and thankfully with him working for you, that was pretty easy to exert.  (Well, technically he worked for your father, but it was close enough.)

“Oh, Mister Officer,” you called out to him through the door as you sat on your bed, hearing him step closer.

“Yes?” he asked, voice slightly muffled.

“I just need your help with something,” you explained, but he still hesitated.

“Are you decent?”

Damn, he wasn’t that gullible anymore.  “Enough,” you replied, and he sighed before opening your bedroom door.

You were in your bra and panties now— but with your heels and stockings still on, of course; he lost track of his step for a second when he saw you, then frowned at you.  “That’s not what I would consider decent,” he said.

“Well, I need your help and I wasn’t going to put on a turtleneck just for that,” you replied.  “You’ve seen me in my bikini by the pool, anyways…”

And you’d made him apply sunscreen on your back as well; you smirked to yourself at the memory.  “What do you need my help with?” he reminded you of the original topic.

“Well, these shoes are too small for me now,” you said, “I didn’t realize how much I’d grown since I wore them last…”

You hoped he’d find that a little intriguing, as someone who himself hadn’t grown in… you didn’t even know how long.  He obviously never talked about it— for all you knew he could have been alive a hundred years, though he certainly didn’t act like it.  

You lifted a stiletto-clad foot forward towards him.  “Now they’re stuck.  Will you help me take them off?”

He sighed that trademark, frustrated sigh of his, and you fought off a smile.  “You can’t do that yourself?” 

You shook your head.  “I’m not strong enough,” you explained with a shrug.

Clearly not buying it but in no position to accuse you of lying, he knelt down in front of you.  Taking the shoe in his hand, he looked at you with annoyance in his eyes as it slipped off easily.  

“You’re so strong,” you cooed, wiggling your toes inside the pantyhose, then putting your foot down to hold out the other in front of him.  “Now the other one,” you demanded.

He took the shoe off of you, tossing it aside, and you let your foot brush against his thigh as you lowered it down— just long enough to make it not quite believable as an accident.

“Now my stockings,” you continued, and he got up and started to walk away.

“You’ll have to do the rest on your own,” he insisted.

“But who’s gonna help me undress?” you pouted, and he stopped walking halfway to the door, dropping his shoulders a bit.

“I don’t know, how about you ask one of those boys that was sniffing around you all night?” he suggested, and you smiled proudly.  Oh, you noticed that?  

“I can’t,” you sighed, “you know Daddy doesn’t let me have any boys in my room— except you.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “because I’m the one who keeps the boys out of your room.”

“It’s no fair,” you whined.  “It’s so boring up here by myself…”

“Please,” he groaned, finally turning around, “with all these things you have?  You shouldn’t have any trouble being entertained.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, “I shouldn’t— but I do.  There’s only one thing I really wanna do right now…”

You started to slowly and delicately run your fingers up your legs, spreading them a bit.

“But I don’t wanna have to do it alone…” you continued, blinking up at him as you saw his nostril twitch— could this finally be the moment you caught him?

In an instant, he stormed towards you and grabbed you by the neck.  “So fucking spoiled,” he growled, his black leather gloves crinkling softly as you whimpered and held his wrist.  “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?  You think your father didn’t tell me what happened to the last four bodyguards?”

“I— I didn’t fuck them all,” you defended, voice a little thin from the pressure on your throat, “the third quit on his own—”

“Because he knew what would happen if he gave in to you,” Raymond sneered.  “And so do I.  You think I’ll give up on a job like this that easily?”

That was one thing that made Ray different than the others before— they were all professional bodyguards, used to working for the elite class.  Most of them probably already had plenty of time, or could at least keep getting jobs of this caliber to earn a similar keep.  But Timekeepers weren’t especially well compensated, paid daily but only paid just enough to keep going until the next per diem.  He’d probably never had more than a couple days on his clock, and now he was earning a month a week just to babysit you.  That was why your father hired him for this, you finally realized: he’d said before that he simply hoped a lawman would have a little more integrity and not give in to temptation with you, but it was far more than just that.

Raymond let go of your neck and tossed you back onto the bed, but just when you hoped he’d climb on top of you and pin you down, he scoffed and turned away.  “You’re too young, anyways,” he said as he crossed his arms.

“Am not,” you denied.

“Your clock hasn’t even started yet,” he noticed.

“I’ve only got a few more years left,” you frowned, “but I’m still an adult.”

“Then fucking act like one,” he suggested sharply, and left the room with slam of your door.

You sighed, once again left frustrated with another unsuccessful attempt to get him into bed.  But, you smiled, too; because you knew this was a step in the right direction.

~

Your father tried not to travel much, since it was one of the few things that exposed him to the risk of death.  Wouldn't it be absurdly ironic, dying in a plane crash after living for hundreds of years and with nearly a millennium left on his clock?

Still, he didn't get all these years by sitting around in his house, he was a busy professional.  And his work sometimes required him to leave for as long as a few weeks.

He had you come and see him off at the hangar, Officer Leon not far behind as you kissed your father on the cheek and bid him safe travels.  

You loved when he left, it gave you a lot more freedom.  But Raymond didn't know that, he just knew you were a billionaire's youngest daughter left alone in a massive mansion, and you'd already had planned for weeks how you could use that to your advantage.

You knew he was outside your door, you could see the shadow of his boots through the crack between the wood and the plush rug.  Fighting off a little smile, you whimpered softly— but not too soft, he needed to hear it.  The first one didn't seem to work, so you dropped your head and did it again.

He swung open the door a second later, and though he seemed relieved to find you alone and not being kidnapped or something, he still had to ask: "Are you alright?"

You sniffled and wiped at your eye, acting like you were trying to hide your tears as if it all wasn’t a performance in the first place.  “Daddy’s gone away,” you pouted, “and left me all by myself… m’so lonely, Mr. Leon.”

“Officer,” he corrected, but his voice faltered when you looked up at him with big, needy eyes.

“I don’t wanna be all alone,” you whimpered, “I need somebody to take care of me… protect me…”

You rubbed your thighs together as you sat on the bed, toying with the lacy hem of your nightgown.

“Somebody big and strong,” you continued as he crossed his arms, “like you.”

His stare was icier than ever, yet those eyes still could’ve melted you if you let them.

“Will you be my new daddy while he’s gone?” you asked sweetly, biting your lip, and he tensed his jaw as he looked away.

“What do you get out of toying with me?” he asked sharply.

“Fucked, hopefully,” you smiled.  

“You know, I’ve known a lot of women,” he informed you; you had no idea where he was going with this, but you liked how it started.  “Rich, poor— prostitutes, politicians— young, or just young-looking.  But I don’t think I’ve ever met such a brainless, insatiable little whore as you.”

You stood up from the bed, stepping closer to him carefully.  “Really?” you smiled, taking it as a compliment, and that only angered him further.

“What is it that makes you think you can get whatever you want?” he wondered, his blue eyes like daggers as he glared at you. 

“Experience,” you shrugged, reaching up to trace a finger over his lapel, but he batted it away harshly.  “Ooh,” you breathed, “you’re a mean daddy, hm?  The type that believes in lots of discipline?”

He didn’t respond, even when you stepped so close that your body was nearly touching his.

“I can be a good girl,” you promised sweetly, “for you.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he snapped.

“Let me prove it, daddy,” you purred, “just give me a chance…”

You leaned in, wondering if he’d let you kiss him— he hadn’t backed away, but he hadn’t relaxed out of his bodyguard posture, either.

“Just make me yours,” you pleaded under your breath, lips nearly brushing against his.

Before you even realized he’d given in, he slammed you back against the wall with a hand around your neck, the other instantly grabbing you between the legs, and you mewled joyfully.  “Fuck,” he snarled, like he was just as frustrated with himself as with you; his gloved hand roughly navigated up under your nightgown and into your panties.  

Two leather-covered fingers slid inside you, and you arched your back up off the wall.  

“Needy whore,” he grunted as he shoved his fingers deeper into you, making you whimper as your knees almost buckled.  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moaned happily, though he slapped you across the face hard with his other hand right after you said it, and you yelped as you clutched your cheek.

“I’m not your fucking daddy,” he spat at you.  “Such a goddamn brat— if I was your daddy, you’d have some fucking manners.”

“Teach me,” you begged, “fuck, please— I need to learn.  Teach me right now.”

He let go of you, and pulled his fingers out of you, and stepped back slightly as he shed the gloves and his long coat.  “Get on your fucking knees,” he growled, watching you slide along the wall onto the floor.  

You didn’t need to be told what to do after that, you simply smiled as you reached up to rub the bulge in his pants.  Unbuckling his belt for him, you had to catch your breath when you realized how big he was.  

He smirked when you whimpered slightly while taking it out, stroking him as he got harder in your grip.  “More than you bargained for?” he wondered smugly.

“Nothing a brainless, insatiable little whore can’t handle,” you promised just before leaning forward and taking him into your mouth.  He gasped a little before humming in satisfaction, and you suckled as you swirled your tongue around his head, fitting what you could in your mouth and trying to coat the skin with your spit.

His hand suddenly held onto your hair when you started to bob your head, and he groaned when you choked slightly on the tip of him.  “Fuck,” he whispered, “yeah— like that, baby…”

You moaned around him, not just for show but a reaction to the satisfying weight of him on your tongue— and the slightly salty taste of leaking precum.  Your fingers brushed gently over his balls as you blinked up at him: you were pulling out all the stops, you wanted him to lose his mind over you even more than he already had.

He pushed your hair back, tilting your head further to meet your gaze.  You thought he might speak when he opened his mouth, but you gagged on him again and he just sighed.

Your hand wrapped around the rest of his length that you couldn't reach with your lips, stroking him in time with the way you bobbed your head; and your other hand couldn't help but reach down between your bent legs, pressing against your core— bare, as you'd already thought ahead and forgone panties— and making you hum at the smallest hint of friction.

You were just starting to set a rhythm with it, the bobbing of your head and the stroking of your hand and the way you swirled your tongue… but of course he had to throw you off and shove your head down, making you choke again unexpectedly, as he groaned at the feeling.  “S’what you wanted,” he reminded you, starting to roughly fuck your mouth.  “What you fucking wanted, right, little whore?”

You could only barely nod with him holding your head, and your clit throbbed just from the way he looked down at you with his teeth bared.

“Fuck, just need a cock to choke on,” he growled.  “Only way to shut you up, huh?”

He gave your throat a few more aggressive thrusts before pulling back, and you coughed and wiped your chin as you looked up at him.  “It’s not all I wanted,” you reminded him when you caught your breath, and he smiled at you in a condescending sort of way.

“Right,” he recalled, tilting his head, “you wanted to be fucked.  Poor thing.”

“Please, daddy?” you batted your eyelashes up at him, and he just laughed thinly.

“Nothing’s stopping you, princess,” he replied, holding his hands out, as if to suggest you come and take it.  You couldn’t resist an offer like that.

Standing up and grinning at him, you pushed him back by the shoulders and down onto the bed, straddling his lap.

He smirked up at you; “Really need it that bad, huh?” he mocked as you pulled your nightgown up over your head and tossed it aside quickly.

“Uh huh,” you agreed with a nod, “need you so bad— you’ll let me ride your big cock, right, daddy?  Please?”

But you were already lining him up to your entrance and sinking down, and you both groaned loudly as he filled you.  “God, it’s so wet,” he hissed, watching you gasp as you lowered yourself further.  “You get that wet just from sucking cock?  Fuckin’ slut.”

Your eyes rolled back as the tip of his cock pressed further than you thought possible.  “Fuck, daddy,” you moaned, “you’re so deep…”

“Yeah,” he panted in agreement, “can’t believe that little pussy’s taking all of me…”

You started to grind on him right away, holding onto his shoulders as you rocked your hips desperately.  “Oh my god, oh my god,” you chanted, “it’s s-so good, it feels so good—”

He bit his lip as he watched you, and you loved how it felt to have those steely eyes looking up and down your body as you moved.

You'd been sort of on edge the whole time, sucking him off and all— not to mention that the foreplay with you and Raymond had started, in your mind, months ago when he was first hired.  The satisfaction of finally having him exactly where you wanted him was nearly as good as the physical sensation… but it did feel incredible, the curve of his cock rubbing up against your spot with so much pressure that you shuddered all over.

His hands ran over your body, the strength of them more than apparent even when he was touching you somewhat delicately, and you moaned as his rough fingers punched your nipples.

You shifted from grinding down on him to properly bouncing up and down, arching your back to get the perfect angle as you both groaned.  "Fucking tight," he mumbled his praise.

You held on tighter to his shirt, really wishing you could see him without it, but there was something hot about him still being in his uniform… especially when you were totally naked.  It probably made him think he had more power over you, which was exactly what you wanted him to think.

Moving faster, you felt the pressure building inside you already, pulsing and swelling as you let your head drop forward to look down at him looking jus perfect underneath you.

He grabbed you by the neck, only to be unexpectedly sweet and pull you down into a kiss— but it was still a hungry, dominating kiss, one that made you whine and tense up inside as he tasted all over your tongue and mouth.  And he didn’t let go of your neck, either, in fact he tightened his grip just enough to make you choke out a raspy moan against his lips, which you felt smirk a moment later.  

“So good, daddy,” you mumbled into the last moments of the kiss.  His hands moved down to your body, following your movements, and you pulled back enough to look at his face closely.  “You’re so fucking good, daddy,” you praised again.

He groaned and held your waist tighter, making you hum and smile.  "Little slut," he scolded through his teeth as you moved faster.  “Show daddy how you make yourself come.”

You beamed as he really accepted the title for the first time.  Sitting up higher and bouncing faster, you moaned loudly as you chased your high: shocks of sensation hit inside you, faster and faster the longer you continued.

You grabbed his hands off your hips and pinned them down beside his head, riding him harder while he smirked up at you.  "So desperate," he cooed— but you could hear in his voice that he was close, too.

Whimpering at the feeling, you felt your walls bearing down on him as it nearly hit you— it was sort of difficult to come like this, since you could only move so fast, but the way it was drawn out just made you sure it would build up even stronger and hit you harder.

“Fuck, get off,” he warned, “gonna come.”

You grinned, biting your lip, and kept grinding your hips.

“Get up,” he demanded, but you just tightened your grip on his wrists.  “Fuck, are you—?”

“Shh, m’close,” you scolded, feeling him try to struggle under you— but he was flexing inside you, too, and you knew he couldn’t hold back forever.  He was obviously more than strong enough to fight you off if he really wanted, but it wasn’t about your body overpowering his— it was about you forcing him to give in to his instincts… to temptation.

“I swear to fucking god,” he groaned through his teeth, “if you don’t fucking get off me right now—”

“I’m coming, daddy!” you announced suddenly as you bounced on him even more fervently.  “Oh my god, daddy, m’coming on your big cock!  Yes!”

It felt great, don’t get me wrong, but you were definitely playing it up and giving him a real show as you tossed your head back, screamed out his name, dug your nails into his wrists— you wanted him to be totally helpless to you for just that moment.  “Fuck!” he groaned, and you laughed excitedly as his cock pulsed inside you, heat flooding between your legs and his head falling back onto the mattress with the most gorgeous fucked-out look on his face.  

“Oh fuck, come in me, daddy,” you demanded, rocking your hips and squeezing him tight for every drop, “wanna be so fucking full—”

He groaned through his teeth as it all started to die down a bit, scrunching his face up for a second before relaxing under you again; you felt his cock pump just a few more times, weaker than before, and you hummed proudly.

“God— oh my god—” he panted out, opening his eyes wide as he started to catch his breath, looking at you like you were crazy.  You just laughed and bit your lip as you finally stopped moving.  “What the fuck did you just do?” he snapped, but he still whimpered a bit when you deliberately clenched your walls around him.

“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just really needed some come inside me— been really in the mood to get bred lately—”

You giggled as he grabbed you and threw you down onto the bed, turning you both over as he held your arms tight and pulled out— he blinked quickly, his lips slack and still a little stained from your pink gloss, as he watched his come leak out of your pussy.  “Fuck,” he snarled, clearly trying to use his anger and panic to hide how much it turned him on.  “Are you fucking kidding me?  Do you realize what fucking happens if you get—?”

“Pregnant?” you finished for him, licking your lips excitedly.  “Doesn’t it sound so hot though?  You knocking me up, getting me all nice and full with your baby, ‘cause I’m so young and fertile— and then you can be a real daddy—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spat, sitting back at little on the bed and running his hands over his face in dismay.  “You’re— oh god— I can’t believe this is happening—”

“Calm down, grumpypants,” you scolded with a smile as you sat up and looked at him closer.  “I’m on the pill, haven’t missed one in years.”

Ray’s terrified expression fell into relief and frustration simultaneously.  “Fucking— you could’ve told me that before,” he frowned, dropping his hands to his sides.

“But then I would’ve missed out on your little meltdown,” you laughed proudly.  “You looked cute like that, panicking and thinking you really got me pregnant.”

He watched you get up out of the bed and snag your silk robe from off of a hook on the wall, slipping it on as you walked to the bathroom.  You looked over your shoulder at him as you turned the door’s golden handle, smirking when you saw the dumbfounded look on his face.

“I think I could use a bath,” you explained, “care to join me, big boy?”

The look on his face was that sort of incredulous denial— like he couldn’t believe that you’d ask him that, expecting him to ever want to be near you again after pulling that stunt.  “Are you serious?!” he choked.

“Of course,” you laughed, “I’m not in a joking mood anymore.  Are you coming or not?”

He laughed in bewilderment and looked around for a moment, before sighing in relent.  “Yeah, I am,” he admitted, sliding off the bed to come join you.  You smirked to yourself; these boys are simply too easy.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Okay so…I may have taken the innocence thing just a bit too far? I grew up Mormon and now I have a shit load of religious trauma and I think that propelled this one a bit so…I hope it was everything you wanted and if it isn’t I’m so sorry😅 but this is probably the most fun fic that I’ve ever gotten a request for and now I want to write more like it🤣

I apologize in advance

Warnings: Major Innocence Kink which pushes its way into Dub-Con, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink (Dd-Lg), Religious Trauma

DD:DNE

This is a Religious Fic.

Don’t Like = Don’t Read!!

It’s possible I took the innocent thing a bit too far but considering you didn’t want her to know what sex was at all I assume that’s what you wanted? I hope it’s what you intended.

If you had told Klaus that one day he would work at an all girls catholic school he wouldn’t have believed you. Here he is though, Saint Holy Mary’s School for Girls as an Art teacher and he’s never been happier.

When Klaus met Y/n he knew she was perfect, she had been home for summer break at the time and Klaus scared off some teenage boys making vulgar comments to her as she walked home. They talked for a few minutes and it didn’t take Klaus long to understand that she’s innocent. Alarmingly innocent. She’s a teenager who is almost an adult that no one has taught about sex, and while Klaus wanted to know how that’s even possible, he decided instead to just enjoy the gift he has been given in the form of his innocent little Bunny.

She was shocked to see him in the school but pleasantly surprised, she blushed whenever he spoke to her, blushed whenever she saw him in the halls or at meals and blushed whenever he complimented her projects. Klaus had spent nearly 2 months just getting her comfortable in his presence, she spends a lot of time with him and often helps him with things that get her out of different classes. Y/n loved spending time with Klaus just as much as he did with her, she proved it the first time he touched her, though she clearly hadn’t understood what was going on and he found it truly adorable.

‘Might as well just spend the rest of class here love, there’s 20 more minutes.’ She shrugged, blushing as he pulled a chair over beside him for her to sit in. She made herself comfortable and Klaus couldn’t keep from looking at her legs, the short skirt she was forced to wear everyday showing several inches above her mid thigh and he couldn’t stop from imagining them wrapped around his head. ‘So, tell me Y/n, what made your parents choose this school for you? Were you too naughty for them to control anymore or did your parents go here?’ Once again her face was red as she quickly corrected him.

‘My mom went here! I didn’t-I’m not-‘

‘I was teasing love, I know you’re the most innocent girl here.’ He was still teasing her, wanting to see how she would react and she didn’t disappoint him.

‘I’m not that innocent. I just don’t like to break the rules…my dad never paid much attention to me when I was a kid unless I did something right so breaking the rules wasn’t really an option I guess…I don’t like-‘

‘You don’t like people to be disappointed in you. It’s a good thing, but I don’t think anyone could be disappointed in you Bunny, you’re perfect.’ He could practically smell the blood rushing to her cheeks as he rested a hand on her knee but she didn’t pull away. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Thank you, you’re always so sweet, I love getting to talk to you Mr.Mikaelson.’

‘Ah ah ah. What have I told you about that? You call me by my first name now that we’re friends. You wouldn’t want me to be…disappointed in you would you?’ He questioned, moving his hand up to hold her thigh and seeing his fingers only about 2 inches from touching her panties making her breath just a bit heavier.

‘No! I’m sorry, I just, it’s weird to call a teacher by his name is all-‘

‘But we’re friends. After all this time I thought we were…more than friends even?’ Her eyes widened and she held the sleeve of his red Henley tightly.

‘Of course we are! We’re best friends! I’m sorry Klaus, you know I love spending time with you.’ He couldn’t help his smile at her nearly idiotic level of innocence as she thought he meant ‘best friends’ even as he has his hand almost under her skirt.

‘It’s okay. I love being your best friend, you’re my precious little Bunny. I could never really be disappointed in you love.’ His hand squeezed her flesh and she gasped quietly just before he caught a heavenly scent coming from her making his fangs ache in desperate need of being buried in her throat. In the 2 months he had known her, he had never smelled that sweet slick between her legs until now and he could see as she pushed them together that she didn’t quite understand what the feeling in her stomach was. He would have to teach her everything…he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about that.

For the next month he got her accustomed to him touching her, arms, legs, back, face, his hands anywhere on her body wasn’t something she minded, not even when he hugged her from behind and rested his hands on her lower belly. That’s when he knew, when she leaned back into him and pushed her thighs together, he knew he could have her.

The next time they were alone together he made sure they had plenty of time. Y/n was scheduled to stay at home that weekend but Klaus made sure something came up with her parents so she couldn’t go. When she spoke to him, he convinced her to not tell the school and just spend the weekend at his place. It would be fun. She was so excited by the idea of spending time with her friend outside of school that she barely worried about the broken rules, getting off at the first bus stop after leaving the school and hopping into his car with a huge smile on her face.

Klaus had gotten all kinds of snacks and drinks, ordering takeout and relaxing with her eating everything she’s not normally allowed to. He had also gone to the store and gotten her clothes, both pajamas and day clothes to wear if she wanted to go someplace tomorrow or Sunday, all of which were short or revealing and he had her change into black short shorts and a tank top with a wolf on it. Last but not least he put on an R rated movie. She argued but didn’t put up too much of a fight about it. It was a horror movie and she was shocked by the cursing and the drugs, but she enjoyed the stupidity of the characters and how they died.

It wasn’t until they got to the reason Klaus chose this movie that she seemed uncomfortable. She watched as the teenage boy pulled his girlfriend onto his lap and ripped her top off, her tits flashing on the screen before he seemed to make a meal out of them.

Klaus had ensured that Y/n was pressed against his side firmly with his arm around her waist so that he wouldn’t need to pull her closer when the scene came on.

As the boy continued kissing down her body he flipped the girl over and ripped off her panties, shoving his face into her. Y/n gasped, completely stunned by this action and looking up at Klaus in shock. ‘What are they doing?’ She questioned and he looked down at her, trying to stay neutral.

‘They’re having sex love, being normal teenagers. You…you know what sex is…don’t you?’

‘Of course I do, I…it’s to make babies…my mom said I didn’t need to know until…until I was ready to get married. They’re sinning.’ Klaus chuckled at that and Y/n looked back up at him confused before turning back to the television and watching as the boy began thrusting into the girl roughly and she began crying out in pleasure.

‘All teenagers have sex Y/n, it’s more strange not to have done it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t support mindless sex with a bunch of people you don’t know but if you love someone, really care for them then you should express that with them. You don’t have to make a baby, there’s ways to avoid it if you want to but sex is called ‘making love’ for a reason, it’s the best way to express your care for that special someone.’ She looked confused but he could also smell her excitement. ‘They love each other, so they’re making each other feel good. It’s normal and I’m so sorry you’ve been deprived of basic knowledge…do you see her face?’ He asked, knowing exactly how he was going to convince her to let him touch her. ‘What does her face look like?’

‘Happy…really happy.’

‘Right, and the sounds she’s making? Tell me, what do her sounds make you feel?’ Her face was redder than he had ever seen and she looked away from the TV quickly before he tilted her head up. ‘It’s okay Y/n, I love you. You can tell me how you’re feeling. I would never betray your trust and tell anyone anything. You can be honest with me…do you want me to tell you first?’ She nodded quickly and he tried desperately to hide his smile. ‘Well, when I hear her moaning like that I…honestly it makes me desperate to know what you would sound like if you felt good.’ Y/n was now turned toward his body and holding his Henley tightly, clearly trying to calm her breathing as she got too excited. ‘What are you feeling right now? I won’t make fun of you, I want to help.’

‘I…I feel tingly in…in bad places Klaus…sometimes when-Oh God-‘

‘It’s okay. You’re doing so good Bunny, so, so good for me.’ He pulled her onto his lap gently and ran his hands up her sides.

‘When you…t-touch me I get…I feel hot…and tingly…and I get…I-I get-‘

‘Does your pussy get wet for me Bunny?’ She groaned out, in embarrassment and relief both but he didn’t care as he gripped onto her thigh tightly. ‘It’s normal. It means you love me a whole lot, just like I love you.’ Her whimper was quiet but instant.

‘You do?’ He nodded. ‘Do…do you get wet too?’

How stupid is her fucking mother that she could teach her daughter basic-fuck that women!

‘No Bunny, but my cock gets hard for you whenever you touch me, or I think about you, sometimes at night I touch myself and just think about how precious and beautiful you are and it makes my cock feel so much better. When a man’s cock gets too hard it hurts and you are always the one who makes the pain stop, you make me feel so good Precious.’

‘Are you in pain now Klaus?’ She wondered and this was exactly how he knew he would get her to let him do anything he fucking wanted.

‘Yes Bunny, I’ve been in pain since the movie started.’ She looked up at him in shock and worry making him wince a bit as he moved to prove his discomfort.

‘How do you make it stop hurting, I can-I can leave you alone if you need-‘

‘Don’t leave me Bunny, no! Please? I need to hold you Y/n, don’t go-‘

‘Okay. I’m not going anywhere.’ She reached up, running her fingers through his hair and it sent a shiver down his spine.

‘Have you ever seen a cock before?’ He asked her and she shook her head, probably thankful she couldn’t get redder than she is. ‘Do…do you want to?’ She hesitated before looking back up at him and nodding, trying to look determined which made her all the more adorable. He moved slowly so she didn’t get scared, it had been probably about 200 years since he had fucked a virgin and he knew he needed to be even slower with Y/n. He pushed his sweat pants down along with his boxer briefs, his cock standing straight and hard, leaking at the tip, and completely red which seemed to make her believe he was in serious pain.

As if Y/n couldn’t control herself she reached her hand out and touched his tip, dragging her finger down his length before yanking her hand away when he groaned. ‘I’m Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I-‘

‘No Bunny, no! You made me feel so good, so fucking good! Please just…oh God, please touch me? Please Bunny, help me?’ His desperate cries of pain were too much for her and she reached out, wrapping her hand around his cock, watching him throw his head back as his hand tightened on her thigh. She pumped her hand up and down his length a few times before her eyes found his tip which was leaking. She swiped her thumb across it and his hips thrust up, nearly throwing her off of his lap. ‘My good girl, so good for me! Such a good little Bunny for your Daddy! Don’t stop? Please?!’ He held her hand and helped her speed up for a few moments before looking back down at her and his eyes flashing to her lips. ‘Y/n…will you do something else for me?’

She nodded quickly. ‘Anything Daddy.’

Fuck! He could have cum right there and been completely happy with it but he pushed it back. ‘Please? Daddy needs your lips.’

‘My-my lips?’

He nodded. ‘Please? Just the tip if you want, suck on it like I gave you a lollipop…can you do that Precious?’ She looked back down at his cock before smiling and nodding her head, moving from his lap and kneeling. He could see the excitement in her eyes and he knew right away he was creating a desperate whore. He was going to ruin this girl and he couldn’t care any fucking less, she would belong to no one but him for the rest of eternity and he would never let anyone else touch her perfect body so…how wrong is it really?

She wrapped her lips around his tip and suckled, tongue running over his slit which made his legs stiffen and shake as she did it again, dragging her lips down his length and moaning. That was the final straw for him. He had imagined her mouth and her noises so many times and nothing came close to this, she was perfection and she was never getting away from him. He held the back of her head still as he came up into her mouth and though she jerked a bit at first she got used to it and quickly swallowed, sucking on his cock for more. ‘Did I make you feel better?’ He couldn’t speak, only nod in that moment of total bliss, head thrown back against the couch to keep her from seeing the dark veins under his golden eyes until he could get his hybrid visage under control again, Fuck this girl does things to him! ‘Can I have more cream Daddy?’

‘Oh Fuck!’ Her innocent eyes and words were going to push him over the edge much too quickly. ‘Daddy…Daddy wants to give you more cream. I’ll give you Daddy cream all you want Babygirl but…do you think Daddy can put it somewhere else?’ She tilted her head, looking up at him from her knees. ‘Do you trust me?’ Y/n nodded her head quickly and he smirked, knowing this would be easier than he thought. ‘Can I show you?’

‘Yes Daddy.’ God he’s going to stretch her pussy so much this weekend there will be a permanent indentation of his cock. He lifted her up and laid her onto the couch, throwing his shirt away and grabbing ahold of hers, pulling it off and quickly keeping her arms from covering her perfect tits. They were just the perfect size for his hands and so fucking cute that he couldn’t resist leaning down and wrapping his lips around a nipple, her hips flying up when his teeth nibbled. He took full advantage, dragging his hands down her sides and holding onto her shorts and panties, nibbling again and pulling the clothes down and off as her hips thrust up again. ‘Daddy!’

‘Shh…it’s okay Y/n, it’s just Daddy. I love you Bunny, and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side making your pussy drip for me, do…do you want me?’ He asked, seeming nervous so that she feels needier for him.

‘Yes Daddy, forever but…you’re my teacher, how-‘

‘You let me worry about that, Daddy will make it all okay…just let Daddy…let Daddy inside of you.’ He groaned, pushing her legs apart and squeezing her thighs with an image of his girl round with his baby burned into his brain, silently begging whatever Gods exist if any to allow him to be able to put a baby in his Little Bunny. Leaning his face down into her wetness he licked his tongue up her slit, lapping at her like a thirsty animal before caressing her clit with the tip of his tongue.

‘Oh Daddy! Don’t Stop! Please?!’ He didn’t, he shoved his face into her cunt and ate her like his life depends on it. He wrapped his hand around hers as he wiggled his tongue against her clit and felt her legs lock around his head as she reached her peak for the first time ever, crying out so loud he knew the neighbors would hear if he’d had any. When he pulled away he crawled back up her chest and kissed her neck, lining his cock up at her hole and pushing his way into her before she had time to have doubts, still on cloud nine as he pushed the last 2 inches in a short thrust and she squealed.

‘That’s it Bunny, oh god you’re so perfect. So fucking perfect! So tight on my-‘

‘Daddy! Y-You’re in-inside…you can’t-‘

‘Clearly I can. And I am.’ He turned her face to look up at him and made sure she was looking him in the eyes. ‘My cock is in your pussy right now, so deep you can practically feel me in your guts, can’t you?’ She nodded, whining. ‘This is my pussy now, all mine. No one can ever take you away from me…you have the most perfect cunt I’ve ever seen baby.’ He pulled back a few inches before pushing in again and pressing his lips to her lips for the first time. ‘Tell me Bunny, what was it you wanted from Daddy?’

‘Daa-ah!’ He thrust up again when she didn’t answer and he smirked, feeling his fangs trying to push out of his gums as he became more and more desperate to mark her.

‘Tell me what you wanted.’

‘D-Daddy cream…wanted m-more Daddy cream…please Daddy? Can I have more?’ She was begging now, whining in desperation for his cum in her womb.

‘Daddy will always give you cream. Daddy’s gonna fill you with so much you’ll be leaking for days. We’re going to fill you with cream for the next 2 days and maybe I’ll keep you even longer just to make sure it’s all properly fucked into you.’

‘Yes! Daddy cream! Want you inside me Daddy, inside me forever! Your cock feels so good! Why did no one tell me it feels so good! Can you stay inside me forever? Daddy, please?’

‘Oh Bunny…Daddy’s gonna breed this little body so much, gonna fill you with my cum over and over again until you’re a leaking, fucked out mess, until all you can do is whine and babble my fucking name! Until all you can say is ‘please Daddy more?’ And I’ll fill you over and over until it takes and you’re carrying my baby inside of your gorgeous body.’ Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, his hips thrusting harder as she realized what he meant, what he was really doing. ‘That’s right Bunny, you’re gonna give Daddy babies, gonna fill you with my babies over and over and still you’ll be desperate for more. Cause you know what bunnies do? They breed, they breed like crazy, they get Fucked-‘ he thrust hard getting deeper into her, now holding her legs up and getting as deep as he physically can. ‘-until they can’t anymore and then they do it again cause they’re so needy and desperate and slutty that they can’t stop. You have a slutty little pussy Bunny, are you ready for Daddy to fill it?’

He knew he wouldn’t stop even if she said ‘no’ but he wanted her to want it, because she is his for the rest of eternity. ‘P-please? Daddy cream! Fill my pussy Daddy! Please?!’

‘That’s my good girl. Daddy’s good girl, gonna be so full of me! Fuck!’ He shoved his cock into her as deeply as he could, feeling her pussy squeezing him through her own orgasm and practically milking his cock for all he could give her and Klaus had never felt so blissful, not in 1000 years.

He kept himself buried inside of her cunt, holding her close and pulling a blanket over the both of them, nuzzling into her throat to find some comfort before drifting off to sleep with the TV sound in the background.

Sometime in the night Klaus had moved them upstairs to his bed and cleaned the both of them up. Later that morning he was awoken by the girl in his arms moving, opening his eyes to see her sitting up and keeping the sheet wrapped around her body.

‘I saw it all last night gorgeous, might as well leave the sheet.’ She turned her head to look down at him and as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes he was moving. ‘Oh no, Bunny! No tears, why are you crying?’ To his relief she didn’t fight him, crying into his bare chest as he held her.

‘What am I going to do?!’ She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and sniffling.

‘What do you mean? You’re going to stay right here, with me. I love you Y/n, and all you and I did last night was show our love for each other, there’s nothing wrong with that-‘

‘Unless I’m Pregnant! My Mom Is Going To Kill Me! I’m a disappointment to God and my father-Oh God My Father! He’s gonna kill me-‘ Klaus clamped his hand over Y/n’s mouth to stop her sobbing.

‘No one is Ever going to hurt you, and do you know why?’ She shook her head, tears streaming down her sweet face which he reached to wipe away. ‘Because you’re my Little Bunny. All mine. You asked last night why you weren’t told how good you could feel, remember?’ She nodded. ‘You weren’t told so that they could control you. You’re almost an adult and no one told you about anything, that’s wrong and cruel and dangerous! You gave yourself to me last night and I am going to spend the rest of our lives worshipping my girl like a Princess…you still love me…don’t you?’

‘Yes! Of course I do Klaus! I love you so much but my father will never let me be with you! He doesn’t care what I want, he will choose my husband once I graduate-‘

‘Y/n, you’ve already chosen. You’re 18, an adult, able to make your own choices. No one can tell you what to do anymore unless you want them to…we can go. Go back to the school, pack your things, I’ll quit my job and we can be together.’ Klaus knew when he looked at her curious eyes that he had her, he was going to make this happen and the best part is Y/n will think she made her own decision for the first time ever.

‘But what about your job? We’ll go live together with no income? I won’t have a diploma so I can’t get a job to-‘

‘You will never have a job!’ Klaus swore and she looked startled. ‘I have plenty of money, I’m an artist, I sell my work all the time. I worked in that school because…because I fell in love with you. I know it’s crazy, of course it is but I couldn’t leave you Y/n! You were already my everything…please tell me you’ll come with me? I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted! A wonderful house on acres and acres of woods and privacy, no one to bother us…except maybe my siblings on occasion but they’ll love you! Your parents won’t be able to control you anymore. You can wear what you want, anything you want, eat what you want, read, write, study, learn whatever you want! I’ll give you jewelry and silk sheets, a maid, the library you always talk about wanting, I can-‘

‘I just want you…’ Klaus’ eyes widened at her soft words. ‘I don’t need all that fancy stuff if I have you…don’t get me wrong, it sounds wonderful but can…can you promise me you’ll never leave me? That it will always be us for the rest of forever?’

He smirked at that, knowing instantly that the deal was sealed, Y/n is all his. ‘Forever and a day my precious girl. I love you so much, and we’re going to be so happy together.’ Y/n grinned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to hers in a wonderful, needy kiss. ‘I’m going to make you scream in pleasure every night until you can’t remember your own name anymore, Bunny.’

She pulled back from his lips, peeking up at him with a shy look. ‘Daddy’s gonna give me babies?’

And just like that his cock was so hard he felt like a teenager again, desperately horny with an erection that won’t quit. Y/n is going to be full of him there’s no way she won’t end up carrying his child and he already has plans to speak to a witch about ensuring it. ‘Daddy’s going to fill you with babies everyday, every single day until it takes. Gonna keep you so full you won’t know what it’s like to be empty anymore…in fact, we should fill you up before we go get your things, shouldn’t we?’ Y/n squealed as Klaus lifted her, sitting her onto his lap and holding her up with one arm around her waist as he lined his cock up with her dripping hole. ‘Already soaking wet for Daddy, my needy little whore. So perfect-‘ She gasped loudly, looking down at him in desperation.

‘Not a whore Daddy! I’m not! I would never-‘

‘No, Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay Princess, My whore. Daddy’s whore, My girl who will do all the wonderful, depraved things Daddy wants you to. Do you understand? Not A whore, My whore. Any other cock comes anywhere near you I’ll cut it off and stick it up their ass.’ He pushed his cock up into her and she whined, still a bit sore from last night but feeling too good to care.

They ended up staying in bed for another 4 hours, Klaus filling his girl 3 more times before taking a nap together. Getting to the school and compelling the Dean was arguably too easy and they were long gone before Y/n’s parents ever came looking for her. It’s not like they would want her back with how badly Klaus had corrupted her.

Their little girl was gone.

She’s Klaus’ Little Bunny now.

Religious Teachings Moodboard

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[bowrapped]

burning for you

feline hybrid!reader x older!leon

tags: 18+, porn without plot, cis!afab!reader, owner/pet dynamics, daddy kink, mating/heat cycles, breeding kink, praise kink, hand kink, dd/lg-like themes, established relationship, surprisingly soft?

4.3k words

notes: i took the plunge and finally completed an nsfw fic based on some of my submissions to @lipglossanon as 🎀 anon! i hope y’all enjoy :)

crossposted to ao3

The front door subtly clicked as Leon unlocked it. Usually, you would already be headed to the door in greeting, your sensitive ears picking up his presence from the smallest of noises. This time, however, you were nowhere to be seen, and Leon called out to you as he shed his various accoutrement and walked deeper into the home.

Life with a hybrid had come with solace and routine for Leon, though it was a bit touch and go at times. You had a penchant for digging into his dirty laundry, wrapping yourself in sweaty workout clothes that you swore smelled divine. You were incredibly affectionate, something that both comforted and occasionally confounded Leon. You sweetly stayed by his side, purring as your long tail swished with affection. That’s not to say you were clingy—just honest in your feelings for the older man.

All of these factors were even more pronounced during your heat cycles. Leon knew another was coming soon, and he had a hunch it had come a bit early in spite of his preparations.

The thought was practically confirmed when there was no response to his calls. Leon quickly moved to his bedroom, past experience guiding him to your likely whereabouts.

As expected, he found you curled against his sheets and an assortment of his clothes. Your hands were bunched in the pile of fabric, pointedly refraining from touching your lower body while your thighs pressed together—trying and failing to find relief.

In his presence, you merely whined and curled yourself further into the makeshift nest around you, seemingly unable or unwilling to move very far.

Leon moved to sit on the edge of the bed and sighed, “There you are.”

You quickly shifted from your spot, your face pressed into his side as your hands tightly gripped his shirt. Your body was so tightly strung that you were near tears as you clung to your owner. Voice high and desperate, you cried into the cloth, “I needed you—need you so bad, Daddy.”

Daddy. The name had been your suggestion. You’d asked to call him that from the beginning, stating that it encompassed everything you dreamed an owner would be. A caregiver—someone who would love you unconditionally. His heart had melted at the confession, and he couldn’t help the twinge of arousal hearing the title from your lips. He diligently kept the expected promise of the name, and spoiled you just as it suggested. Middle age was surely softening him, but he wouldn’t focus on that now.

Leon easily untangled you from his side, gathered you in his arms, and sat against the dark wooden headboard. You were pliant as he settled you in his lap, back pressed against his chest and legs resting outside of his. Still, your hands clung to the muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

“Poor kitty,” Leon cooed as he guided your hair to the side, careful not to muss your pointed ears. His lips grazed your heated skin, stubble slightly tickling you as he went, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, but I’m here now, alright? Daddy’ll make it better.”

“Daddy, please, I—“ you mewled as Leon mouthed and nipped at your neck. “Was so good. I didn’t touch myself just like you told me to. Been waiting for you. Been so good,” your breath was heavy while you babbled, desperate for Leon to touch you.

He hummed in interest and smiled softly at your words—though you couldn’t see it. That rule was another staple in your dynamic, not born from sadism, but what Leon considered necessity.

Though you’d gotten better, you still had a tendency toward messiness. While he couldn’t fully fault you, he still needed to set some ground rules. Coming home to the sight of you grinding against his pillow was hot in the moment, but the extra laundry to be done after the fact was another story.

“Is that right?” He continued to press kisses into your nape as his hands roamed across your clothed chest, “That’s my girl. Daddy’s so proud of you, baby.”

You preened under his praise, chasing the large, rough hands that languidly explored your upper body over the threadbare fabric of Leon’s old tee. Your smaller fingers wrapped around his wrist in an attempt to pull his hands lower. You needed his fingers on your clit, in your cunt, anywhere that could give relief to the burning heat threatening to consume you.

Your body relaxed against Leon’s as he easily followed your lead. The feeling immediately dissipated when he didn’t go further down, but lifted your shirt hem instead.

“Daddy…” you grumbled. Your disappointment was evident, but Leon still pointedly ignored your spread legs and instead exposed your chest to the cool air of the room.

“Patience,” he murmured, his voice low in his chest. “Want to give you some attention here first,” his calloused palms rested underneath your breasts, “We can’t have them feeling left out, can we?”

A high moan caught in your throat. You wanted to argue, to pull his hands down again, but you merely held onto his wrists as he continued to caress you. Your want to follow Leon’s somehow won out over heated desperation.

He caught your pebbled nipples between his forefinger and thumb, rolling and tugging them before grasping your breasts once more. You arched into his calloused hands, pleasured whimpers unmistakable in spite of your discontent.

“There you go…” Leon’s voice was soothing. “I know it’s hard, but just let me play a little.”

You let him. You always did. In your mind, Leon hung the stars, and you consistently followed him even when you protested.

It didn’t help that the rough attention he gave your breasts was a dizzying combination of too much and not enough. Your mind would be muddled regardless, but it was especially so now.

Neither his ministrations, nor your keens wavered as he spoke, “So sensitive here, sweetheart…Makes me wanna use my mouth on you—kiss you until you couldn't take it anymore.”

Your ears were downturned at his words. You knew you would take whatever Leon gave you, but you didn’t know if you could take that much teasing in your current state.

Leon huffed a laugh into your neck, ”I would, too, but you want me somewhere else, right?”

You immediately nodded, your hands again attempted to guide him between your legs. Leon’s arms remained firm, as did his tone, “C’mon. Gotta use your words for me.”

“‘M sorry,” your voice warbled, “I do.” You tugged his wrists again, succeeding this time in moving his hands further downward.

Leon’s fingertips grazed the frilly top of your panties as he playfully feigned ignorance.

“Here?” he questioned, a teasing smile on his face.

Your tail flicked in discontent as you immediately spread your legs even wider for him. “Yes. Please touch me, Daddy. I need it. Need you so badly.” Your hips canted upward, seeking friction that wasn’t there. The ache between your thighs was all-consuming, and you were desperate for the relief you knew Leon could give.

Leon gently patted your hip, “Alright. I’ll give you what you need, okay? No more teasing.”

He snaked his right hand underneath your waistband. His free arm wrapped firmly around your waist—an anchor for you as well as a way to keep you still. The wet spot you left on the white fabric was almost translucent on Leon’s hand as he gathered your slick on his fingertips.

His fingers easily glided across your entrance and up to your clit. You immediately bucked at the contact, but Leon’s arm didn't budge from its place across your soft stomach as he held you against him. His touch started in slow circular motions so as not to overwhelm your sensitive body.

Still, your hips desperately attempted to chase his hand, and you whined in both relieved pleasure and indignation at Leon’s stilling grasp. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he cooed.

As much as you wanted Leon to rush with you, he often opted to take his time. In addition to his penchant for teasing, you were precious to him, and he wished to convey that in part with how he handled you in intimate moments—at least until you urged him enough to do differently.

Leon’s languid caresses grew stronger as he guided your overstimulated body. Sloppy, rhythmic clicks and vocal, heaving breaths announced your desperation to the otherwise silent room. His fingers swept across your clit and down your soaked cunt where he began to work his fingers inside you. Your muscles immediately tightened around him, trying to pull his digits further in.

“Hah—Daddy,” you cried out, body still trying to move with the rhythm of his hand. The heel of Leon’s palm grinded against your clit as two of his fingers curled inside you. You lurched, moans caught high in your throat at the intense feeling. Your dulled nails gripped Leon’s forearms. The unfounded thought of him removing his hands had you scrambling to keep him in place.

With your limited movement, you arched back into Leon as you chased the stimulation of his hand. The feel of his hardening cock underneath you only spurred on your growing climax. The air was filled with your high-pitched cries and the lewd wet sound of Leon’s fingers moving inside of you, “Fuck—please, don’t stop, Daddy.”

A low hush brushed against your skin. “It’s okay, I won’t stop,” his lips were hotly pressed to your ear as he attempted to soothe you. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Leon’s soft words and strong grip were grounding to your overactive mind. Though your hand was tight on his own and your cries didn’t fully cease, your body still minutely relaxed into his.

“Atta girl,” Leon murmured, “You’re alright. Just need to let Daddy take care of you.”

He pressed his palm harsher against you, trying to guide you over the edge, “Want you to cum on my fingers first. Can you do that for me?”

“Mhm. I can,” you hiccuped, “Wanna feel good. Wanna be good for you, Daddy.” You continued to chase your high, grinding down on Leon’s hand as he pressed a third finger alongside the others.

His voice kept rumbling softly in your mind, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t grasp any of the words spoken into your tufted ear. Your attention was solely focused on your impending climax and the sight of Leon’s hand between your legs.

Your eyes followed the flexing tendons in his wrist down to the hand half-hidden by soaked fabric. A part of you yearned to see his hand work against you, unconcealed by the frilled garment. Another loathed the idea of losing his touch at all.

You didn’t have to ponder the dilemma for much longer as your climax encroached the forefront of your mind. Leon’s hands and voice were both quickly guiding you toward your peak, and you followed the feeling with abandon. Your body had been left wanting, but now it could finally get relief. You trembled in his arms, ears folded and brow furrowed in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he drawled, “Know you can do it, baby.”

The knot in your core continually grew tighter under Leon’s rough hands and gentle coaxing. You fell over the edge easily. Your nails and mind latched onto the whispered promise of relief and a full cunt. Later, you’d be apologetic at each of the marks you left on Leon’s skin, but the thought was far away in the wake of your climax.

Your ears buzzed as the feeling swept you under. Leon worked your body through it, his fingers sticky with your release.

“There you go…” he cooed. His touches slowly transitioned from strong presses to soft caresses that left your body quivering.

Your chest heaved on the pleasant come down. Yet still, you felt empty in spite of his fingers. Heat demanded one thing from you, and the yearning ache in your core would not let you forget that fact.

You impatiently pulled his hand from your panties and interrupted its languid dance across your pussy. His fingers separated, and the semi-translucent strings connecting them instantly caught your eye.

Without thinking, you ran your textured tongue up his salty-sweet palm. “Daddy,” you spoke against his skin. “Wanna keep going,” you captured his fingers between your lips, catching his knuckles on your canines and muffling your voice, “Please?”

You lost yourself in your owner’s calloused hands. You had always been enamored with them and their ability to treat you with both stern guidance and delicate finesse. Today was no different.

Leon’s grip tightened around your waist. As much as (or perhaps, because) he loved it, attending to you had left him painfully hard and wanting. The feel of your warm mouth and the unintentional satisfied hums reverberating in your throat did little to help.

He shifted his fingers against your tongue, coaxing your mouth open when he spread them. You chased the thin bands of saliva connecting you, gathering his fingers back into your mouth in a meager attempt to clean them.

Leon’s eyes were fixed onto your mouth as he breathed, “Alright, baby. Just need you to get up for me, okay?”

Your lips relinquished their hold on Leon’s hand, now only slightly less messy than before. You quickly adjusted your position—poised on your knees, presenting yourself regardless of your semi-clothed form. Your tail swayed above you in silent beacon as you awaited his response.

God. Leon was sure you’d be the death of him. He’d expected you to simply shift, to sit between his legs and face him while you anticipated his next words. Normally, you would, and Leon felt this boldness was a side effect of your biology-induced desperation. Either way, he couldn’t help but enjoy the view.

His hands easily rested on your hips as he knelt behind you. One rested at your tailbone, your soft fur nestled in the cradle between his index finger and thumb. The other teased at the line of your underwear in the silent promise of removing the garment.

“Shit,” he sighed, “Almost too pretty for your own good.” His palms were hot against your skin, unmoving but firm.

You shivered underneath him when you realized the image you likely projected in that moment. You, half-clothed with tousled hair and your hips high in offering. Him, still in the base of his work clothes with only flushed cheeks and tented jeans to betray his lust.

Fighting the urge to grind back into him, you let Leon explore your body at his own pace.

He silently stroked the base of your tail as his eyes and free hand roamed over your body. A low purr vibrated in your chest. Though the heated ache persisted, you always indulged in any attention Leon gave you.

Leon had a strong teasing streak—something that had seriously frustrated you at first. In your mind, you didn’t know why you would deny yourself when you could instead be honest and proactive in your desires.

With time, you learned that while it did partially come from a place of mischief, it mostly stemmed from appreciation. He wanted to take his time with you, lathe affection on each inch of your skin, and cement that you were his to cherish.

His hand shifted across your ass and down to the gusset of your panties. Your hips jumped when his thumb ran a smooth line down to your clothed clit.

“Daddy…”

Though you understood his teasing, it didn’t mean you were never impatient in the wake of it.

Leon gently hushed you, “Want to take my time with you for a little longer. Just be patient for me.”

You breathed in quiet pants as his light touches continued. He pulled the damp cotton down your thighs, smoothing your puffed tail as it threaded through the makeshift hole in the fabric.

His hand again found its place between your legs. You jerked under his touch as his thumb ran along soaked skin. Before you could fully sink into the feeling, it seemed to leave almost as soon as it arrived.

You turned back to protest, but all impatient remarks caught in your throat when you caught his eye over your shoulder. Leon mirrored your earlier actions, albeit much less messily, savoring what your body left on the pad of his thumb.

Noticing your reaction, his eyes creased at the edges. “You made it look so good, thought I needed a reminder.” His free hand revealed more of your face from under your mussed locks, “But that can come later, right?”

He shifted back, deft fingers quickly undoing the clasps of his well-worn belt and deep blue jeans. A low sigh escaped him as he freed his cock. Precum beaded at the flushed tip, belying the composure he’d shown thus far.

You reached for Leon’s hand in a silent plea, and he quickly tangled your fingers in understanding.

A high moan rushed from your throat as he slowly guided himself into your welcoming heat. The feeling of him was not new, but it was nevertheless overwhelming. Your mind was awash with him. The dull burning stretch of your muscles, the warmth of his hands on your sides, and the timbre of Leon’s voice all swam in your muddled mind and culminated in slurred gratitude.

Daddy—thank you, thank you, thank you…!

“Shh, don’t gotta thank me, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You hiccuped a relieved sob at finally being filled. Your face burned—though you couldn’t dwell on your outburst. Instead, your breathing was heavy as you tried to relax around him. Wanted as it was, the insistent press of his cock was heady in your cotton-filled brain.

Leon let out a low moan as your body greedily took him in. In spite of your shared desperation, he kept his pace slow and his touch gentle. His hand squeezed yours in reassurance, and he quietly called your name. “Talk to me,” he coaxed, voice rough in his throat.

You nodded earnestly, one side of your face against the bedsheets, “I’m okay…” your voice trembled, “Sorry.”

He chuckled, “It’s alright. Don’t want to hurt you, that's all.”

“You won’t,” you grinded against him as you deepened the arch of your back, goading Leon further, “I can take it, Daddy. Please?”

“Fuck…” Leon hissed, his hips involuntarily following yours. He pressed your intertwined hands into the mattress, “I can never say no to you, can I?”

Your voice was lost in your throat, and the rhetorical question was simply met with pleased mewls as he finally moved. Obscene wet noises resounded from where your bodies were joined. The sound mingled with your voices in an unorthodox symphony.

Leon’s hand untangled from yours, moving to firmly grasp your hip. With it, he guided your body onto his, thrusts heavy as he fell into rhythm. His eyes trailed down the glistening line of your spine to where the two of you were connected. Your cunt wrapped tightly around him, seemingly trying to keep his cock nestled deep inside.

“Can’t help but spoil you.” Leon’s voice was low and rough as his eyes remained on you. A white band of your arousal already began to gather at his base—another mark of explicit honesty from your tightly wound body.

Each of your cries were muffled into the mattress as he fucked you. Your pleasured babbles were almost unintelligible to Leon as you continued to hide from him.

Muscular arms gathered you close to his chest, your damp skin hot against his own. Your head lolled to the side in a meager bid for him to move higher as he placed more forceful, heated kisses along your shoulder. “You don’t need to hide, sweetheart,” he murmured, stubble now rough against you. As he spoke, one of his hands trailed down to your soaked cunt.

It easily found its mark, rubbing quick circles along your clit and further coaxing you to your climax. You bucked in his grasp at the added stimulation. Your hands clutched his forearms as they searched for an anchor. You were certain his grip was the only thing keeping you kneeling on your shaking legs.

Your words were interspersed with whines and moans as he continued to move inside of you, “‘M sorry, Daddy—just feels so good.”

You could feel his smile at your words. “It’s alright,” he breathed, “Just let go for me.” His other hand found its way to your breast, cradling it in his palm. He let his thumb trace circles across its peak, his movements gentle yet purposeful.

Your voice continued to fill the room in tandem with the sound of your bodies moving together. Each of Leon’s touches had you barreling toward your peak.

Your tail trembled against Leon’s chest, and you whined high in your throat, the vibrations reaching Leon’s lips as he kissed your fevered skin, “Daddy, ‘m so close—please.” You weren't sure what you were asking for with your pleasure-slurred words. You just knew you didn’t want him to stop.

“I know, baby,” he whispered. He continued to rub your clit as he pressed his lips against yours in a messy kiss. His heavy breaths mingled with yours as he spoke, “Daddy’s got you. It’s okay.”

His movements became more forceful, his hips pumping into you faster than before. His encouraging whispers and forceful touches remained as you reached the edge.

A final coo from him had you tumbling to your orgasm. Your body shook in Leon’s grasp as he fucked you through it. You almost chanted his name and given title like a prayer as you crested over each wave of pleasure. Your cunt tightly squeezed around him. Leon’s resulting groan was lost in the rushing of your ears.

He continued to thrust into you, feeling his own release beginning to come soon after yours. “Oh, fuck,” he choked back a whine, his breath hot against your sweat-dampened skin.

You reached behind you, hooking your fingers into what you could of Leon’s thigh. “Please, don’t stop,” you begged—desperate for him even now, “Wan’ it inside.”

Leon’s cock throbbed at your request. The admission wasn’t new by any means, but it was no less spurring. His arms snaked closer around your waist, seeking more leverage to buck his hips upwards into yours.

“Okay, I’ll give you what you want, baby. Give it to you,” he rested a palm just under your navel, “right here. Right where it should be, hm?.”

You clenched around him again, eliciting another pleasured hiss from Leon. “Yes! Want it so bad. Wanna be full. Need to be full, Daddy,” your frantic pleas continued.

Your trimmed nails pressed small crescent moons into Leon’s skin as you clung to him. You reached between your legs, already seeking another release as Leon chased his own.

“Shh…” Leon soothed you, rubbing his hand along your side. “It's okay. I won’t stop.” He deftly replaced your hand with his own, his larger fingers rubbing quick circles against your swollen clit.

“Just a little bit longer, baby,” he whispered hoarsely. “Then I’ll fill you up. Try and make you a mommy. Would my pretty girl like that?”

Your body prickled in arousal at Leon’s words. You nodded jerkily, words slurring while you trembled in his arms, “Please, Daddy, I want that s’much. Wan’ you to get me pregnant.”

Your heats often lead down this line of talk. Leon wasn’t even sure if it was possible, but he always indulged you. He also couldn’t deny that the idea of it taking, leaving you glowing and full of him months down the line had his abdomen tight with want.

Leon held his hips flush against you as he reached his peak. He cursed lowly into your neck while his cock throbbed, filling you with each movement. The warmth spreading within you along with your owner’s goading words sent you over the edge again with him.

Your bodies fed into each other’s pleasure in a dizzying loop. Each clench of your muscles caused him to grind more harshly into your cunt, filling you further as you milked his release.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—” your words strung together as you came around him. Your tail wrapped loosely around his waist in a meager attempt to keep him in place.

He held you tightly to his broad chest, keeping his cock pressed snugly against your cervix. He kissed your fevered temple as you came down together, whispering soothing words with each press of his lips.

You clung to him with equal fervor. Mewls quietly tumbled from your mouth while Leon enveloped you.

Your bodies remained connected as your heart rates and breathing gradually slowed. After a moment, he began to unwrap his arms from your spent frame—ready to clean the two of you from the evening. Before he could, however, your hands immediately tightened their grip on him.

“Wait—don’t want any to spill out. Wanna keep it all in. Please?” Your soft feline ears were flat against your head at the thought of Leon leaving you empty. You wanted to cockwarm him—keep him and his cum as deep as possible for as long as he’d let you.

Leon shook his head and looked down at you with affectionate amusement, “Greedy…” Despite his teasing remark, he allowed himself to be pulled back.

Ensuring your bodies remained connected, Leon carefully guided you both back to your earlier position—you sat in his lap while his back rested against the headboard.

The feeling of his jeans underneath you erred on the edge of uncomfortable as the opened fly pressed into your skin. You refused to admit it to Leon, though, and instead opted to lean further into the man.

His fingers combed through your hair, taming some of the tangles. Your head tilted toward his touch, eager to be pet. He readily obliged you and you purred contentedly in his arms, heat sated—at least for the moment.

[daisies-daydreams]

task force 141 + konig where they gangbang y/n (they corner them in the lockerroom/barracks-- y/n accidentally goes into the wrong room, or is it really the wrong room??) OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT and they each take their turn :DD AAAA im so sorry if its difficult i just really love ur writing :") please take ur time and if u ever do consider this THANK U :")

Pairing: 141 + König x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Consensual Gangbanging, Multiple (and I mean multiple) Orgasms, Clit Play, Oral Sex (69), Penis in Vagina Sex, Thigh Fucking, Anal Sex, Spanking, Vaginal/Anal Fingering, Reader is Going to be Sore 💀 Word Count: 4.1k+

Author’s Note: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. There were so many different scenarios but I was able to eventually dwindle it down to Y/N walking into the wrong locker room (whoopsie daisy). Also, König is included in the fic, I just couldn’t find a picture with all of them. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head. The sound of the water spraying from the showers was music to your ears-your body worn and grimy from the recent mission. You pushed open the door and padded inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. All you had on your mind was taking a quick shower and slipping beneath your covers. Billows of steam rushed towards you as you opened the double doors. You headed towards your locker and paid no mind to the other bodies wandering about the room. You furrowed your brows when the combination didn’t work. You frowned as you tried again. Nothing. You flinched when a distinctly male voice cleared his throat behind you.

“Think you’re in the wrong room, lovie”.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around. Your blood ran cold. Your lieutenant, Ghost, was standing in front of you with crossed arms, his bulging muscles still dripping with hot water. You blushed when you realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. His face was rugged and littered with scars, an obvious sign of him living through years of combat. Your heart began to race as he took one step closer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they wandered down to see his girthy cock hanging between his legs. You bit your lip when you caught a glimpse of it twitching to life. Ghost was only a few feet in front of you as his arms fell to his sides.

“What’re you doin’ in ‘ere, hm, Sergeant?” he mused with a raised brow. His shadow swallowed you whole as you tried to look away. You swallowed a lump in your throat, gripping the towel you held in your arms.

“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident-truly,” you stammered as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Your eyes flicked around the room to look anywhere but at him, only to lock eyes with the other men. Your knees felt weak as they all stood there staring at you and your flimsy cover-up. You felt your breath punched out of your lungs when you realized they were just as stark naked as Ghost. Your lips parted as your mind began to buzz with a whirlwind of emotions.

You were embarrassed beyond belief…and yet, you couldn’t help but feel the intoxication of pure lust coursing through you. Your blood ran cold when you saw your very own Captain in the same room: his stormy, sea green eyes piercing into you as he gave a wry grin. You felt dizzy as you tried to brace yourself against the lockers, clenching your legs together. Ghost chuckled as he slid his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could meet his gaze.

“You sure it was an accident? Cause the way you're shifting your cute little thighs together tells me otherwise,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your neck. A small moan left your lips as his lips raked across your skin. He looked back up at you, his mahogany eyes dripping with pure desire. “Tell us what you want, love,” Ghost murmured, his hands falling to delicately brush over your hips.

Us?

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you looked around the room. All of the 141's cock’s seemed to twitch and throb to life. Your mouth nearly snapped open when you saw a towering man, who you assumed to be König, pawing at his massive length. Was this really happening? You whined when Ghost peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. A rush of heat struck through your core as he suckled over your pulse, then licked across the blooming hickey. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.

“I-I want you…all of you,” you squealed when Ghost suckled another hickey onto your neck. He parted from your neck and nipped at the shell of your ear. Your body trembled at the prospect of having every one of your holes stretched and pumped full of cum while you jerked two other men off with your smaller hands. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as Ghost sank his teeth into your neck. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over the throbbing bite mark.

“Gonna take our sweet time with you-right lads?” he rumbled before kissing up your jaw. You heard the men grunt in agreement, their voices falling onto your ears like a melody. You felt lost in your own emotions as they tumbled and crashed together. You squeezed your legs even tighter as Ghost pulled his head up and gave you a soft smile. Your heart cracked at the sight-you were so used to seeing his macabre visage that his expressions seemed lost to you.

“Can’t wait to see how good that pussy feels,” he said before stealing a slow, tender kiss from your lips. The distinguished sound of a door locking felt numb to your ears as the taste of your lieutenant flooded your mouth. It was slightly minty with a hint of tobacco, the flavors blending together as both of you slung your tongues together. You sighed into the kiss as his hands worked to peel your towel off of your trembling body. You felt goosebumps bloom across your body as the fabric fell to the floor.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Ghost breathed, admiring your body. You blushed furiously before he dove back in, his hands gently massaging your hips. Your eyes shot open when another rugged body came up behind you and sandwiched you together. You turned to see Soap beaming at you with his usual, cheeky grin.

“Mind if I have the first go?” he whispered as he licked your jawline. You keened at the feeling of his hot member twitching against your ass.

“P-Please,” you sighed while nodding your head. Ghost remained still for a moment, though decided to step back, admiring the view before him as he gripped his own girthy cock. A deep rumble rose from Soap’s chest as his hands slowly came up your sides. You gasped as they landed on your breasts.

“So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured. You felt arousal start to leak between your legs as he slowly tweaked your sensitive nipples between his rough fingers. You arched your back, pushing your butt further into his hips. The movement caused his dick to slip between your thighs, his head just barely poking out from the front of them.

“Please, Johnny,” you mewled. Soap moaned at the sound of his real name as his hands spread over your tits. You went to spread your legs. A whimper left you as you felt him harshly squeeze your breasts.

“Keep your legs together,” Soap ordered with a husky growl. You nodded before throwing your head back, letting it fall on his sturdy shoulder. Soap pressed kisses up your neck as he began to slowly push and pull his cock between your thighs. He groaned as your cunt coated his thick length with your juices.

“Mm, that’s it,” the man groaned as he kneaded your breasts. Your mind became more fuzzy as he added another bite mark to your shoulder. “That’s my good lass,” he lilted. You felt your walls clench as the head of his cock continuously breached through your slick folds. Soap grunted as his thumbs flicked your hard nipples, his hot mouth enveloped over your shoulder in a wet kiss.

“Christ, Soap-hurry up,” Gaz whined. You gazed up at the man with half-lidded eyes. Gaz stared at you with a similar expression, his nostrils flaring as he squeezed his leaking dick in his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut when Soap’s hand fell down and began to rub meticulous circles around your swollen nub.

“Ah, don’t stop,” you whined. Your knees buckled when you felt Soap pinch your clit. He wrapped his arm around your torso, pressing your back flush against his broad chest. You felt like you were being rocked by an ocean of bliss as he started to buck into you at a hungry pace.

“‘M not gonna stop-not when you feel this fuckin’ good,” Soap groaned. The sound of your slick movements stoked the fire growing in the pit of your belly. You mewled as Soap drew faster circles around your clit. “C’mon-cum with me, bonnie,” he moaned with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasped as the cord inside of you snapped violently. You arched your back as a white-hot wave of ecstasy washed over you.

The feeling of Soap’s cock twitching beneath you only prolonged your blissful contractions. He coated your thighs with rope after rope of his cum, the warmth dribbling down to your knees as you writhed in pleasure. Soap kissed your cheek as his cock began to soften between your legs. You panted as your high dissipated.

“Look so cute when you cum over my cock, hen,” Soap praised as he still held you close. He kissed your temple before slowly backing away from you, his hands protectively placed on your hips. You stared into his deep blue eyes before you felt a new pair of warm hands . You gazed behind you, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

“‘Scuse me, love,” Gaz gave a wry grin as he laid himself down on the hard surface. You mirrored his expression as you sat on top of him, angling yourself to take his cock. He clicked his tongue.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Gaz said as he grabbed your hips. You gasped as he spun you around, your dripping cunt hovering just above his mouth. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his thick cock twitching right in front of your face. Your breath stuttered as you heard Gaz smack his lips, his hot breath cascaded over your folds.

“H-Holy shit,” you whispered. Your hands flew up to brace Gaz’s thighs as he slipped his mouth over your cunt. You moaned, a jolt of electricity shooting through your core. You took several deep breaths as he moved his tongue back and forth, writing out his name across your slit. You took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking your mouth around his shaft.

Gaz groaned as he swiped at your folds while you bobbed your head up and down his length. He was thicker than you imagined-his girth stretching out your jaw more than any other man you’ve been with. The taste of his salty-bitter precum danced over your tongue as you swirled your wet muscle around his head each time you came back up.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he murmured into your pussy before taking your clit between his lips. Your hands clenched around his thighs as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub.

“Gaz, fuck,” you whined, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The sergeant chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of your quivering hole. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before angling your head to take him in deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Both of you moaned and panted as you ate each other like starved wolves. The vibrations from Gaz’s voice sent ripples of arousal straight into your core. You released a breathy sigh around his dick as he slipped his tongue out and slid one of his digits inside of you. You shifted your hips over Gaz’s face as he stroked you tenderly, his finger reaching and caressing your g-spot. You heard him emit a low growl as his cock twitched inside of your wet cavern.

You moaned his name as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, your second high tearing you in half. Your whole body grew tense as his cock was lodged deep in your throat. You gasped as you felt something warm spill into your mouth, his cum draining down your esophagus. His brows furrowed as your walls clenched around his finger, sucking him in eagerly.

As your high began to fade, you slowly pulled your lips off of his length. You made sure to keep your lips tightly wound together, carefully holding his seed inside your mouth. He smoothed his hands over your hips, raising them before he gasped out for air. It made you wonder if he wanted to suffocate as he devoured your cunt. The thought made a small shiver course through you.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). That was incredible,” Gaz gasped between heavy breaths. You smiled sheepishly before turning so he could see your slightly swollen cheeks. His lips parted as you audibly swallowed his cum. You grinned as you stuck out your tongue. No trace of white was left. “Bloody hell,” he shuddered.

You smiled as the man guided you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, the afterglow of your orgasm warming you from head to toe. Just as you felt your heart rate steady, a shadow crossed over you. You cracked an eye open to see your Captain looming above you, his thick hand pumping at his red-hot length.

“Believe I should’ve gone first-bein’ your Captain and all,” Price muttered. Gaz huffed as he helped you off of him, guiding you to sit up while he slid off the bench. You gazed up at Price with the biggest doe-eyes you could pull, though it seemed futile when you were shoved onto your stomach. You winced as his calloused hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips. You turned your head slightly to see your Captain leaning on the bench with one knee, his other leg balancing himself on the tiled floor. He raised a thick brow as he continued to jerk himself off.

“Think you should be disciplined, Sergeant. You’ve walked into the men’s locker room like a naughty girl,” Price grunted. You cried out as he laid a smack against your ass. He groaned as he watched it jiggle, a red mark staining your bum. You felt your heart race when he grabbed your asscheeks in his hands, spreading them apart.

The man shoved two of his fingers into his mouth before releasing them with a wet “pop”. You moaned as he circled your puckering asshole with his digits. Your hands flew in front of you to grab the edges of the bench as he moved to massage your ass with one hand, the other slowly dipping into your hole.

“Say it-say what a naughty girl you’ve been,” Price commanded as he pumped his fingers into you. You gurgled incoherently, your mind intoxicated from two mind-shattering orgasms and the feeling of him stretching your hole wide open. You lunged forward as he smacked your bum again, this time leaving another red mark.

“I-I’m a naughty girl,” you keened, shaking your ass as he thrusted his digits inside with a sudden squelch. “A-And I need to be disciplined,” you batted your lashes. Price growled before curling his fingers inside of you.

“Damn right, you do,” he huffed with a small smirk. You jolted forward as he suddenly shoved his length into your asshole, molding your insides the shape of his cock. Your mouth snapped into a tight “o” as you felt yourself being stretched out by your Captain, inch by delicious inch.

“So fuckin’ tight-Christ,” he grunted as his hips became flush with your raw ass. You moaned at the tightness before he slid himself out, leaving his head inside. Your fingers curled around the bench as he pistoned into you, his hands bruisingly gripping your waist. “Love how your hole stretches around me,” Price rumbled. You felt tears prick at your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you from head to toe. You yelped as he laid another slap to your ass.

“Fuck-I want to see you, love-but this arse just feels too fuckin’ good,” he hissed between gritted teeth. You arched your back as he grabbed your hair, pulling on it while he shoved a few fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckled on them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You jolted when his other hand laid a sudden smack to your cunt, your slick spraying across his hand.

“I’m so close,” he grunted. Your head rolled to the side as your third orgasm washed over you, sending a shockwave through your core. Price growled as he slammed his hips into you. Your entire body lit on fire as he filled up your insides. It was an entirely new sensation-though it was one you could certainly get used to. He patted your thighs before slipping off of you, his rough palms lingering on your waist. Your limbs felt like they were full of lead as you tried to stand up, only to remain prone on the bench.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Price-I think you broke her,” Soap gaped. You blinked lazily before being pulled into two strong arms. You looked up to see an unfamiliar face above you. You gave a small smile as you recognized the pair of icy blue eyes that gazed down at you softly. The tip of a water bottle was pressed to your lips and you greedily slurped up the cold liquid.

“Ah, the little Maus just needed a break,” König cooed. You tapped his wrist, letting him know you were done with your drink. You smacked your lips when he pulled it away from you. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his rugged stomach as he gently rocked you in his arms, your naked body resting on his sturdy lap. His hand caressed your red cheek as he leaned down, kissing your forehead.

“Do you think you can handle any more, Schatz?” the Austrian murmured. You stared at him, eyes half-lidded and body shaking with overstimulation.

“Y-Yes,” you rasped out. König’s brows knitted together.

“If you’re feeling too tired, we don’t have-” He gasped when you straddled his hips, legs clumsily wrapping around his back. He moaned as you kissed him deeply, your pussy lips gliding over his massive length.

“I want to,” you said resolutely. König beamed before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Turn around for me then, Kätzchen,” he commanded gently with a pat on your waist. You smiled as you spun around, making sure to rake your ass against his abs. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you spread your limp legs over his. He muttered sweet phrases in German as he slipped his hand down towards your heat. You shivered against him as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. Your cunt was a mess of slick and cum that dribbled down from your asshole. He groaned as he felt around your puffy folds and swollen clit.

“Gonna take it nice and slow, ja?” König soothed. You nodded and relaxed as he slipped a finger into your hole. You gasped at how just one finger filled you up, your walls mush around the ridges of his digit. König grunted as he began to slowly pump his finger inside of you, his other hand massaging your bundle of nerves. You moaned as he played with your pussy, his movements calm and gentle. You gasped when the pad of his finger brushed against your g-spot. “Are you alright, Kätzchen?” he asked. You nodded, curling your hands around his wrists.

“Yes-you feel so good, Kö. Making me feel so good,” you praised. König grinned before he added another finger into your cunt, stretching you out wonderfully. His movements grew a bit faster as his thumb flicked and stroked at your clit. You gasped when his fingers were replaced with his cock. Your eyes nearly crossed as you felt his immensely thick shaft split you down the middle.

“Meine,” was all he could rasp out before he gently bucked into your heat. You moaned when you saw his head bulge beneath your stomach. You could feel your body melting in his touch. He continued to swirl his finger around your nub as he bounced you on his cock, his voice cracking with every moan and pant that left him. Despite his gargantuan size, he was handling you like you were made of porcelain. Your eyes glazed over as you felt yourself tense again. König whined as your walls constricted around him.

“König-I’m gonna cum,” you mewled. He rumbled before pistoning his hips up into your heat.

“Fuck-me too,” he gasped out. Both of you moaned at the same time as your walls contracted around him. He stilled inside you, your cunt milking his cock dry. You whined as you felt his cum gush out of your pussy, flooding his lap. The rush of liquid never seemed to end as he slowly pulled you off his length. He peppered your face with soft kisses before giving you another sip of water.

“You did so well for me, meine Schatz,” he praised while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him sleepily before he receded back. You glanced above you to find Ghost standing tensely, his cock cherry red and ready to burst. He grabbed a towel lying on the floor and helped you up. You sighed as you were laid back down on the soft fabric, his palms stroking over your shaking legs.

“How you feelin’, lovie?” Ghost asked softly. You felt your voice die in your throat as he gazed at you with his gentle, brown eyes. Eyes you’ve seen full of a quiet rage countless times in combat.

“I think…I can do one more,” you puffed out. Ghost hummed as he adjusted his hips.

“Atta girl,” he praised. You smiled up at him as he slid his cock inside, pushing some of König’s cum out of your hole. You melted as he thrusted into you, gently massaging your tender breasts. “Been wantin’ you for so long-fuck-you feel better than I could ever imagine,” Ghost grunted. You bit your lip, taking in slow, deep breaths as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your limbs felt like putty in his hands as he raised one of your legs to fall over his shoulder. Both of you locked eyes and you nodded. He exhaled through his nose as he pumped his cock through your plush walls. You could feel your mind starting to grow fuzzy as he rocked his hips into you.

“Simon,” you murmured. Ghost’s hips stuttered as his name softly fell from your swollen lips. His movements became a little more hungry, his balls slapping against your cum-coated ass as he snapped his hips.

“So perfect f’me,” he groaned. You barely had time to brace yourself before your fifth orgasm shook you to your core, electricity trickling down to your fingers and toes.

“Christ, how many is that? Five?” he groaned. You nodded your head, letting your eyes close as you were rocked by his strong thrusts. Ghost rumbled as he crashed his lips onto yours. The sound of your sloppy, cum-filled cunt fluttering around his dick made your mind completely melt. “You’ve taken all so well, love,” Ghost praised as he bullied his cock into your hole. Your brows knitted together as he kissed you again.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, stuff you with my cum,” he moaned as his balls twitched against your folds. “You’d like that, love?” Ghost huffed. You nodded.

“Please, please fucking fill me,” you gasped. He chuckled as he sped up his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the tiled space. You moaned and raked your nails down his shoulders as he slammed his cock into you, stilling inside and shooting his load into your tight hole. Your jaw went slack as you felt your pussy warm, only to feel exhaustion wash over you once more.

“(Y/N)? Are you with me?” Ghost’s muffled voice called. You only managed to make a small mumbling noise before sleep finally overtook you.

+++

You gasped as you shot up beneath a cozy comforter. You looked down, seeing you were wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Your hair was still wet and smelled of shampoo. Your eyes scanned the dark room. You finally recognized that you were back in your quarters when your vision adjusted. You puffed out a breath of air as you sank your head down onto your pillow.

Was all of that just a dream?

Your face turned a deep shade of red at the many lewd acts that transpired. You yawned before shifting in your bed, gasping when you felt a dull ache blooming in all of your holes.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[hoseoksluna]

BERRIES | jjk ft. jhs

pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x oc (feat. hobi)

genre: angst, tiny fluff, itty bitty smut

word count: 6.0k

summary: your ex-boyfriend shouldn't have this much influence over you when you have a new man, should he?

playlist: berries / pinterest board: berries

warnings: depression, daddy issues, use of titles, oc has dirty thoughts about hobi (do we blame her? no, we do not), slowburn, implied sex, dd/lg, soft argument

note: this took every last bit of my strength, so i had to split it up. i'm sorry if this is a piece of absolute shit, but as you all know work this week squeezed everything out of me and i'm so exhausted that i'm not even sure if this is worth posting. i struggled a lot with this fic, rewrote it multiple times, and i'm so very happy that it's finished. i hope you all enjoy the start of a new series, this time a slowburn that will have more parts, more depth and everything. and surprise! it features hobi, my beautiful husband. it was my first time writing about him and he's missing so terribly from my soul that it was one of the reasons why i struggled so much. i wish it weren't like this for my first time with him, but oh well. i hope you, guys, enjoy. please, let me know what you think. <3

The satiny material of your cream-colored dress must be the one and the same that these sculptures had worn centuries ago. You can almost imagine the softness kissing your fingerprint instead of the cool stone as you graze your touch against each and every immortalized angel of loveliness. You’re stirred by a sense of poignancy—that you’re alive and they’re not and yet you believe that as you stare at them, feel what they’ve been through the more you study their eternal expressions, they stare right back with their eternally tender eyes, see right through you, through your heart, know its contents. You wish you were in their place instead; you’re sure they would’ve handled your cursed life better than you can. 

Or you wish you were as stony as them. 

But you’re an opulent fountain of emotions that are anything but gentle. 

This thought distracts your attention from the way your feet ache in the boots you chose to wear to impress your date. Thigh high, with black knee socks underneath to keep you warm from the cruel breath of autumn. Hoseok is carrying your trenchcoat as you’re adventuring on your own in this art museum and that’s the only sliver of kindness he’s shown you this very morning. 

The only compliment you’ve received from him was a nonverbal one. An up and down look with a smirk creeping in when he picked you up at your apartment. No hug, no caress. You felt so small—and awkward a little bit, comparison rushing in. Not in the form of a wave of the sea, but in the form of a snake, its thick body tightening around your throat. An ouroboros, which made you regret going out on a date so soon. 

It hasn’t even been a month since you’ve become a single girl again, learning how to walk in this new, harsh reality, your legs wobbly, weak and too, too heavy. And the lack of comfortable physical contact made you see your ex-boyfriend before your own eyes, the memory of how he acted at the beginning of your first date. The way he picked you up into his arms due to his excitement of being with you and carried you inside his car. He put on your seatbelt for you. Drove carefully. Held your hand as he led you to the restaurant he picked for you. Even during the walk after while you talked about the stars and you couldn’t help but tell him that his eyes were filled with them. 

Hoseok did neither of those things. He had asked you where you wanted to go and you’ve wanted to visit the museum for quite a while, so you suggested it. He had agreed, no sort of enthusiasm evident in his voice muffled by the phone call. And you’ve barely exchanged a few words during the half an hour of your time spent here, let alone led an entire conversation. You should’ve heeded the warning when it was right in front of you.

Hoseok is certainly not of the artistic kind. 

Looks quite bored as you turn your head to look at him, your coat dangling from his arm so terribly devastatingly. And when you focus your gaze to your right, where a dark wine-tinged room, with golden frames of paintings, awaits you and where you’ve longed to go the moment you stepped a foot inside this grand building, a distaste pools on your tongue, your former aesthetic elation ruined. 

You’re surprised he didn’t stand you up. 

You don’t even want to take pictures. As a matter of fact, you want to go home. But you can’t. Can’t ravage your only possibility and means of forgetting the person you still love. Can’t really encourage Hoseok to leave your life, not when you’re the type of person that doesn’t find love upon every corner you turn to. 

This is your only chance. And he’s the only man you’ll conceivably have in your life for quite some time. 

You walk up to him and take your coat from his arm. His eyes deepen on you, in fact they haven’t strayed from you during the entire half an hour—and that bothers you. If your ex-boyfriend were here, he’d share the beauty with you. Make you laugh so hard that the sound would echo around the vast room. Perhaps give life to the sculptures and they would laugh along, too. 

Your heart hangs heavy in your chest, sinks ever so slowly and you can’t bear it. You need to leave. Take this date elsewhere, hope for betterment to grace you—to have but a fragment of pity for you. 

“You hungry?” you ask, softly, willing your voice to be smooth and not divulge the brassy storm of your emotions to him. Hoseok doesn’t know anything about you. Doesn’t know that you yearn for another person to be standing in his place. “Did you have breakfast?” 

Hoseok needed the date to be in the early hours. Said he had a meeting in the afternoon. Would be working on a project with his colleagues until the late hours. You didn’t mind, not really, in fact it animated you—brought briskness into the sadness of your headspace, knowing it was rainy and cloudy outside. Perfect weather for the influence of the arts. That is, until you realized that it was a grave mistake to take a businessman to a museum; that you dragged a heathen to a church.

Hoseok shifts his weight on each foot, his shoulders swaying with the movement, and he licks his lip, bringing your attention to them. Small, but full—you wonder what they would feel like against yours. Wonder if he’d be gentle with you or violent. If he’d stroke your hair or grip it; fondle the ribbon you’re wearing in a half up do or untie it, entirely. Use it for another means like your ex-boyfriend invariably did. 

Your distaste grows, but not for Hoseok. It grows like poison ivy for yourself and your tendency to compare him with someone he doesn’t deserve to be juxtaposed with. 

Guilt blossoms in your sternum, the leaves of that poison ivy. Pretty to the eye, but deadly for the body. Just like you. You’re too baneful for such a pretty man like Hoseok. You’d do well to respect his boundaries and abstain from physical contact, prevent red rashes from marring his skin.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Hoseok says, just as softly, rubbing the nape of his neck, the black cloth of his dress shirt taut over his arms—a pretty sight, one that could be hanging in the wine-tinged room for generations to gawk upon. “Truth be told, I was too nervous.” 

A brief smile adorns his slender face and you melt, the poison ivy scratching you raw. Your heart picks up its rhythm, flattery clothing it in a protective layer and you pout, your hand itching to graze his forearm. But a hidden fight rises in you, an army of darkness ready with their bows, their arrows shooting thoughts into your brain about how little you’re worthy of such kindness and favor. 

Though when Hoseok blushes upon seeing your tender expression, it gives you some sort of strength to stand tall against those demons. Despite the fact you don’t understand it, you don’t question it either and you cling to it, sensing its freedom speaking to you in a foreign language. A yearning forms in you, one you haven’t yet had the possibility of meeting. A yearning to learn its syntax and vocabulary. And when you give in to it, the poison ivy in you lessens. 

This is good. 

You reciprocate his smile and you coo. Find it the easiest thing in the world. And because you’re so grateful for what he’s unwittingly done for you, you decide to share your truth with him as well. 

“Let’s go eat, then.” Your eyes crinkle and you’d bet light flickers in them, for your whole body does, you sense it. A warm light enlarges on its axis, taking a hold of the heaviness you felt. “There’s no need to be nervous. It’s what I told myself when I was getting ready. My stomach hurt and believe it or not when I told myself these words, it stopped.” 

Hoseok chuckles, his arm slapping back to his side, but you notice that it trembles. You’re so touched by it that you become angry at yourself, self-hatred clashing with that warmth. You misinterpreted him so unfairly and what’s more, you wallowed in your brokenness and your heartbreak, when Hoseok had been nervous and timid the whole time, which now sheds light on his lack of closeness with you. 

You’re despicable. And the awareness of it transforms into that snake tightening around your throat again. Only this time, you welcome it. Long for it to take your life. It’s the least you deserve. 

But you’re not letting yourself loll in the bed of your horrendous emotions. No, you lift your hand and you caress his arm, the one that quakes. And amidst the sepulchral attention of the sculptures, you’re a witness to that trembling’s halt, to Hoseok’s visible tranquility, and you want to weep. 

You know if you were to gaze at the eternal angels of beauty, you’d see stony tears appear on their ivory cheeks, too. 

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbles and you curl your brows in confusion, not knowing what he’s apologizing for. Hoseok opens his mouth again to speak, but he pauses, sloshing the words in his mouth. You feel so bad that a craving to better yourself overcomes your entire being. “I’m sorry for being such a buzzkill. If you wanna explore this place more, we can. I saw you looking at the room with the paintings.” 

He tilts his head in the direction of the aforementioned room, but you care very little about it as of now. You’d much rather take this elsewhere and get to know him better, so you don’t make the mistake of distorting him again. You’re not very keen on forcing a heathen to pray, either, however you do appreciate his willingness and attentiveness. Carry those things into your jarred heart, fold them inside its chambers, the edge pieces to the puzzle of his personality. 

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, taking it one step further and hooking your arm around his. Hoseok sighs, his shyness slowly breaking apart as he clasps his hand over yours and if you could dissolve any more, now would be the perfect time for it. His hold is strong and steady—and it creates something stable within you, an orchard of fruit trees, pink and green, and bushes of berries, a safe place you want to rest in; lay down your brokenness and woes in. “You’re good. No need to apologize.”

His blush deepens at the reassurance and he smiles, softly, running his thumb over your knuckles. And the gratefulness you feel due to the fact he’s touching you, it is the rain that freshens up the apples and cherries hanging on the twigs of those trees, guiding it into full bloom. You focus on it—focus on the thick, cottony material of his dress shirt as you rub his forearm in response. You want to acknowledge yourself with the unspoken parts of him like these, remember them, allow them to heal you and crack the plaster over your heart. 

And there you hear it. The crumble as Hoseok leans in and presses a chaste peck onto your cheek, lingering there for a second more, inhaling your sandalwood scent. And his smile widens as he looks down on you at such close proximity, erasing your touch-starvation once and for all. It’s your turn to blush now and you feel an inkling to shy away from his gaze, but you stifle it back. Curl your mouth in a smile—your heart thumping louder amidst the orchard now that it has more space to function in. 

“No, I really want to apologize. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a date and you’re so stunning that I’ve forgotten my game, so I can’t help but to be nervous. I don’t know how to act around you,” he says, mutedly, punctuating his sentence with a breathy laugh, glimmering eyes flicking to the lining of your silky neckline just below your collarbones, tracing the miniature cherub hung up on your dainty necklace plated in gold, motionless against your dress. Your own heart grows wings and momentum in its place, fluttering in haste to move closer to him. He bores his gaze back into yours, letting it stay there. “Art isn’t really my thing, but you look like you belong here. Look like all those angels around.” He nods at your necklace. “And like that angel, too. Can I take a picture of you?”

You’re so taken aback that you don’t have time to respond. Pulling out his phone from the pocket of his dress pants, he withdraws from you and gently ushers you in the direction of the closest angel, your trenchcoat slung over his arm again, vibrating with life. He positions you how he likes—right in front of the immense sculpture, your head turned slightly to the side so the wisps of your white ribbon in your hair can be seen. His touch grounds you, tells your bloodstream, your organs that everything is okay, repeats it a little louder to your headspace—all before war could be declared with you. 

Hoseok, the prince of peace. 

The prince that crouches to the dirty floor so the vastness of the angel’s wings can fit in the shot. Yours, too. You think you’ve grown a pair of your own, alongside your heart, now that your shared honesty brought you closer.

You struggle to hold back your sob, to stop the corners of your mouth from rounding, your chin from quivering—all because the lightness that you sense wrapping over your heart is one you haven’t felt in a really long time. You feel taken care of, feel like you can depend on him, and while you can’t explain why you feel that way, you consider that such an immense blessing, regardless. So much that your eyes wet for the camera, but you don’t mind. Let that be captured in the memory—the mending that occurred. And let that be safe with him. 

You smile and the flash goes off, which causes you to burst into giggles, your liquid softness forgotten, and run to him, your palm covering his phone camera so nobody sees his defiance. You look around to make sure no employee is in sight before you face him, cheeks warm, heart warm, wings warm, body warm. Hoseok quirks a brow, confused, gaping up at you from his position, and you take a deep breath to halt another inrush of laughter.

“You can’t take pictures with flash here. They’ll throw us out,” you whisper-shout, your giggles escaping your tightened mouth. His own forms into an ‘O’, fingers clicking on his screen, presumably turning off the automatic flash.

“I didn’t know,” he whisper-shouts back, mouth stretched in a lopsided grin. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid.” You shake your head, shoulders still shaking with the last of your giggles. He probably didn’t have a phone back then, which makes it even funnier. He inspects his settings again to make sure it’s all good before his hand finds your thigh and pushes you back. “Okay, I turned it off. Go back to the angel.” 

It’s your whole body that flutters now, not just your heart, both pairs of wings unfurling, and when you retrace your steps, you still feel the heat of his touch—half on the fabric of your dress, half on your bare skin. And as you smile more naturally for the picture this time, greed kisses your core. A greed for more of his touch; on the same place as well as elsewhere. 

A twinkle of where he could possibly touch you flashes before your eyes and it’s all your focal point consists of when you turn your head to your former position the way he wanted it and he praises you for it: “Good, good.” 

Your muscles clench as you imagine his hand going underneath the fabric, exploring what’s hidden in there for him. The words of praise he would utter at the discovery of your private flesh. Your ears must be red. Such a twist of events you didn’t expect. A meek form of demureness creeps in, enveloping you in a feminine sensuality and you’ve missed feeling this way. Missed feeling pretty and alluring for yourself first, then for a man second. Missed being the center of your attention like this, of someone else’s as well. 

You’ve always loved it. Perhaps due to the fact that you very seldom have it—so when it does come, it changes your life and you attach your being to it. 

You didn’t anticipate going home with Hoseok, especially not on the first date. But because you’re being fed, you don’t really care about being proper. You want to go home with him and so you simply shall. 

Can’t let the opportunity run away from you. 

And so you arch your back a little bit more, look up at the angel and give her your silent thanks, your hair flowing around your form when you flick your gaze back to Hoseok to see him concentrated on the task, his smooth features gravely serious. Your stomach flips. 

“Now from the back,” he instructs without lifting his eyes off of the screen of his phone. “Just like you were.” 

A breath lodges in your throat, the double meaning burning the poison ivy down to ashes and you swallow it, let your stomach acid consume it until there’s nothing left of it, until all that your body carries is nothing but the lightness and the seductiveness that Hoseok gracefully gave you, the comfortable heft of the wings that grew because of him. 

It’s those things that drive forth your following words with the world’s ease, unabashedly. 

“You want it from the back?” 

Hoseok’s mouth parts and the look he exchanges with you should chill your blood, but it doesn’t. If anything, it boils it. The heat that wafts off it pools in your core before ascending to your imaginary wings, leaving them dripping with sweat and the dew of titillation. Hoseok’s eyes narrow, shadowed by the furrow of his brows, encouraging it all the more. 

There is it—the heady energy shift, permeated with the sweetest of berry juices, stemming from lust, from the orchard he planted in you. Strengthening your allure, steeling you from head to toe. You submit to it; kneel into it, notionally. Your elation raises from the dead—and you grin. 

“Behave.”

A pulse in your private parts. The lengthening of your expression of delight. Your wings, your muscles clench and the same winged creatures soar to your heart from your stomach, squeezing the beating flesh. You swivel on your heels, the hem of your dress rippling, exposing more of your tender skin, the ribbon in your hair following suit. 

Hoseok sucks in a breath. Your cheeks ache from the joy’s strain and it is utterly exhilarating to you. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Hoseok coos his approval and you can’t take it anymore. You let him take a few more pictures as you move around, dancing in your own way, running your fingers through your hair, trying to distract yourself from the throbbing between your legs, but to no avail. And when you sigh and face him head-on, Hoseok is already on his feet, walking towards you with a reappearing lopsided grin that forces the butterflies gnawing at your heart to go absolutely rampant. 

You’re done for. You need to take him home. You’re not even curious about how the pictures came out—you can always look at them later. 

Hoseok seems to know about your neediness because when he crosses the distance, he cups your chin. Makes you look up at him. And his smirk deepens while your heart increases in size, wings flitting at the special attention. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, caressing your skin with his thumb. Your eyes round and the heat you feel is sweltering underneath your clothes. All the more reason for him to take them off. “The pictures are great. Wanna see?” 

Biting your lip, you shake your head, briefly. “What I want is to make you breakfast,” you say, mirroring his tone, hoping he gets the hint. 

Hoseok waggles your chin, humming. “Oh, yeah?” 

Fuck. If his scolding already didn’t make you submissive, then his response and his actions have. You wet your mouth, teeth instinctively sinking back in, and only nod. Hoseok opens your coat and covers your shoulders in its warmth, pressing the cotton twill fabric against your sternum. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

A fond sound pours out of him and the fact that he likes to be called by that title heightens the pulse between your legs. “Let’s go.” 

He leads you towards the exit with a hand on the small of your back and you’re so happy to be touched at last that with a final look at the angels, you send out your silent love and goodbye to them, thank them one last time for the kindness you received because of them, one that you so ferociously sought after and longed for. 

They seem to bow to you, happy to be of service, and you smile so profoundly that you feel as though nothing could stain your joy and mar it all over again. They wouldn’t allow that to happen—and a tendril of hope burst open within you like sunlight tearing through clouds, one that is suffused with the notion that Hoseok would stand in the way, side by side with those sculptures, too.

And he does when you swivel your head back and catch a glance of someone you know. 

A piercing on the side of his brow, unchanged from the last time you saw him. Round eyes, murky. Ashen complexion that used to bloom with vibrant tints. Full, soft-toned mouth, ever so stuck in that pout, one you used to kiss until it bruised. 

Your bloodstream doesn’t cease its flow. Not until you notice the person beside him. 

A girl with an aura so cataclysmic that it forces you to stop dead in your tracks. An August night storm personified, obnoxiously sweet-smelling of the past summer that you spent with her companion. The hollow, funereal scent of a meadow doused in petrichor—she walks with it, her hands intertwined before her in a clasp. 

You wished for him to be in Hoseok’s place so ardently that he appeared. And now that you contemplate him, the lack of distance between him and the girl, it makes you regret that you ever did. 

Because, unknowingly, it drenched you in gasoline and his presence is a lighter, hers the hand that has flicked it to life and now serenely holds it against your skin, waiting until the flames, little by little, devour you whole. 

And the job is finished when both of their heads whirl, meeting your livid stare. 

And Jungkook, too, stops dead in his tracks. 

“Do you know him?” Hoseok asks and you find it strange that you can hear him when all you can see is red. 

And the red fades into the matching black shirt that Jungkook is wearing, into his bluntly pained mien; into the strands of his date’s short hair and her scrunched up brows as she regards you with a strong aversion that makes you scoff. And the same red weakens when Hoseok turns your attention to him by playing with the ends of your ribbon, grazing them before twirling them around his finger. 

A breath of fresh air, he is. 

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know whether to tell him the truth or come up with something that won’t devastate what you have currently going on with him. But if you lie to him, you’ll stumble into a dead end you’d much rather stay clear of. You’d see it before your eyes once you do take him home and it would ruin the newness he brought up with you, preventing it from taking root in you. 

Devastation awaits you in either case. Both you and Hoseok. 

Cursed, your life is. Doomed, absolutely fucking doomed. 

What would the angels do in your place? 

Seeking their wisdom behind you, it is not in them that you find your answer, but in the passing pair dressed in black, making their way over to the dark-wined room. He’s pretending he didn’t see you at all, walking away from you without saying a word, despite the fact you broke up on good terms. 

You worshiped him in this very building almost on your knees and he dismissed you as if you meant nothing to him, caring for the feelings of his date, instead. 

Peculiarly, the sentiments Hoseok installed in you, both of the passionate and the soft kind, turn that fire blue and it becomes the driving force that guides you to act without a single thought spared. 

“Yeah, I do know him. Do you mind if I quickly say hi to him?”

The corner of Hoseok’s mouth curls and he caresses your hair down your back one last time.  “Go, I’ll get the car ready.” 

Such a confident, strong man, broken out of the confines of his former timidness. Not possessive, nor insecure—letting you do what you want. Respectful of your personal life that doesn’t include him just yet. And for that very reason it will—as soon as you’re done putting out that fire in you. 

It’s not only you that has gone through a change upon this hour and it strikes your awe, enough for you to lean in and peck his cheek, just like he did to you. 

Hoseok makes a sound of endearment, pivots on his feet to leave you to it, but you grab a hold of his hand. Have a need to say something to him. 

His brows rise at the attention and you brush your hand across his knuckles, mimicking his previous actions, having learned them, intimately. 

“Thank you, Hoseok. Really,” you say with a smile that could magnetically pull the sunlight out of its hiding place behind the clouds and bathe this bizarre room in light. You squeeze his hand. 

A swirl of shyness flushes his face in rose pink and he shakes his head. “No need to thank me,” he assures, reciprocating the smile. “And call me Hobi. You can save Hoseok for later.” 

Your jaw falls open and Hoseok chuckles, warmly, deepening the pulse between your legs until a wet spot adorns your panties beneath your dress, one that you look forward to showing him at the aforementioned time. 

He pivots again and you watch his tall, lean figure leave. Back muscles clothed in black, straining against the fabric. He must’ve undergone his military service. 

A beautiful man. You can’t wait to taste him. Taste that manliness. 

Loosening a breath, you turn around to search for your ex-boyfriend. And much to your dismay, he’s appreciating the angel sculpture—the very one and only Hoseok took your pictures with. Fire licks at your every nerve ending, but then you notice that his date is nowhere in sight. 

A perfect opportunity to do what you want to do. 

Pulling out your phone out of your little purse, you look for his name in the history of your calls and tap on it, placing the device against your ear, your hoop earrings clashing against the screen. You watch him palm his pocket as the vibration disturbs his aesthetic pleasure and he casts a long glance at your name filling up his screen. Doesn’t comb his gaze through his surroundings. No, he seems to be transfixed by the twist of events and when he swipes his finger to accept the call, his stare begins to dig a hole into the dirty, marble floor. 

Doesn’t say anything. 

You scoff, fury grazing your fire. “You’re pretending not to know me? That’s low.” His pout rounds and the tip of his shoe traces the edges of the ruination he’s caused. Remains silent. “Who’s your little girlfriend? I thought you’d introduce me. Where is she, anyways?” 

It’s him who scoffs now and he flicks his gaze towards the face of the angel. It’s like he’s staring right at you. “You shouldn’t be doing this, little one.” 

The too familiar pet name brings agony to your heart and you would break had Hoseok not given you his strength, if the dependability of him waiting for you outside wasn’t real. And the allure and the lightness in you, perhaps the very love of the sculptures encompassing you—all of those things only vivify your solidity. You have no reason to break, you’re safe. 

“Well, I think you should be a good Daddy and meet me right there in the red room,” you seethe, glad for the anger to be lingering in you, for the utterance of the title leaving you unscathed. You’re just giving him a taste of his own poison, nothing else. 

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and sighs, clenching his jaw. “Don’t call me that.” 

You chuckle, enlivened by the provocation. “I can do whatever I want. Besides, you started it.” 

He grits his teeth. “Not when you’re talking to me, you can’t.” 

Your fire rises in overwhelming waves, your curt response ready on your tongue, but Jungkook hangs up, making you shut your mouth, instantly. 

You hate him for that; hate him with the entirety of your being. 

What has happened to your friendship? To the sweet, weeping Jungkook who broke up with you because he didn’t want to cause you any more pain with the state of his mental health, who has been dealing with depression for so long that he’s reached a point of no return, a lightless room with no windows, where all he saw was you, and he didn’t want you to be a victim of such unhealthy attachment. So he bid you goodbye, hugged you until you couldn’t breathe and let you go. 

Three weeks ago. 

You haven’t seen him or heard from him since until now. Until you’ve found someone else and moved on with your life. That’s just your luck. 

And now the person you’re gazing at, it’s not the same one that wept against your chest. Yes, he might have been strict with you during intimate times, teased you with his fatherliness during the day even—but that invariably was imbued with the mellowness of love. 

Try as you may while his words ring in your headspace, you cannot unearth any trace of that same mellowness in it. Only bitterness, coldness and a profound darkness. 

Jungkook pockets his phone and, leaving both of his hands there, sunk deeply, he walks over to the wine-tinged room, his frown obscuring the place in gloom. Murky clouds, personified. A perfect match to the storm of his companion. Bile lodges inside your throat. 

You follow after him, your feet aching terribly in your boots, but it serves as some kind of alleviation to the tautness of your emotions, of your confusion, disgust and offence. Makes you feel better—because once you see Jungkook ogling a certain painting of a woman beaming at him softly, dressed in flowers, blues and greens as the redness akin to your fire burns in her background, the agony tries to slither its way inside your heart, but fails.

You’re a locked orchard. 

Jungkook senses your presence and he swivels, biting the inside of his cheek, pierced brow quirking. There’s a strain to his shoulders and his Adam’s apple bobbles as he takes in your appearance. The creaminess of your short, silky dress, the darker shade of the same color of your trenchcoat slung loosely over your shoulders, exposing your brown, leather, high-heeled boots, your matching purse clutched in both of your hands as you strut towards him. Calm, all of a sudden. It does nothing to you, nothing whatsoever—your heart momentarily attached to Hoseok.

“I thought you’d already left,” he murmurs, tipping up his chin. Begins to sway back and forth on the balls of his feet, the carmine hues of the room swathing him in a deeper shade of darkness. “Isn’t your boyfriend waiting for you?” 

You don’t bother to correct him. It’s none of his business who Hobi is to you, not when he treated you like a stranger.

“We were about to leave, but then I saw your actions,” you say, quite monotonously, your calmness as disturbing as it is triumphant. You yourself even wonder at it. “What the fuck was that?” 

A smirk. “Glad to know I still have some kind of effect on you.” 

You scrunch up your brows, distaste once again pooling in your mouth. “Trust me, I would’ve done this with anyone I know. You’re not special.” 

His smirk widens. “So, you’re not jealous?” He rubs the side of his jaw, staring at you, intently, and disgust comes over you like a splash of a wave, soaking you in cold sweat. 

He did it for that very reason—to make you jealous. Walked right past you, just to get a rise out of you. As much as you loved him half an hour ago, that affection turns into dust within you, sprinkling the fruit trees and the berry brushes with its gray smithereens, poisoning them. 

Ouroboros, all over again. Full circle. Anger covers your disgust. 

A voice echoes within the room. Airy and light, as feminine as it is otherworldly, and you know, without a doubt, who it belongs to. It doesn’t suit her, not in the slightest. 

“There you are,” your ex-boyfriend’s companion trails off, the clapping of her flat shoes halting. “Who are you?” 

You only turn your head to the side, signaling to her that you’ve heard her question, because you fix your stare back at Jungkook as you answer it. “It’s not something you should trouble yourself with. Can you give us a minute?” 

You don’t hear any movement, so she must be stubbornly staying where she is. All right, she can join the conversation for all you care. 

When you turn your head back around, you catch stars oozing from Jungkook’s eyes, a conveyance of adornment painting his face in gentle colors that could never be associated with this room. There it is, the face you know, so resplendent of the one you last saw. And it grazes your anger, whispers to it that it was a mistake, a game of pretense, because you’re reverently acknowledged with his soul—you know who he is. While it may explain his fucked-up behavior, you don’t soften. Not at the hint of familiarity. Not even at the hushed hint of your deduction telling you that the reason why he unmasked himself was because you chose him and didn’t run away when his companion spoiled your short time together. 

You don’t soften because you simply don’t want to. 

You don’t want to give in to any means of getting close to him. 

The chapter is finished. You shouldn’t have called him. You should’ve left with Hobi. 

You don’t wish to keep him waiting long, nor do you wish to keep sprawling in your mistake. You pivot, ready to leave, but Jungkook captures your hand. Desirousness palpitates in his eyes as if he, too, needed to tell you something of urgency. 

You’ll hear him out, but that’s the end of it. 

“Can I see you later?” he asks, pupils growing in size until they absorb his chocolate irises, his grip over your hand tight and heated. A wind blows in your orchard, sweeping away all the darkened smithereens left by the bane, freshening you up. 

You don’t really think that’s a good idea. 

“I won’t have time for you later, I’ll be with Hoseok.” 

To Hobi, you won’t lie, but the same can’t be applied to Jungkook. 

His breath hitches in his throat, disappointment weighing him down, the thought of you being intimate with someone who is not him causing his posture to slouch even more. 

But he surprises you with the words he says next. 

“I’ll wait, then. Let me know when you’re alone.” 

And you surprise yourself even more when you nod, turning on your heel and scurrying off to meet Hobi outside. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[thegnomelord]

Hello there! I'm a new anon, kinda scared to ask and spill all of my weird ass fantasies that I can come up with, but I somehow found the courage to do so.

After reading through the soft sex fic with Makarov (and omfg I am going CRAZY over it) I just randomly came up with an idea involving that.

So hear me out (aka let me just be delusional)...

You, a member of 141, currently stand in the interrogation room, your back facing the door as you stared down at the one and only Vladimir Makarov himself. It was honestly a miracle that you had been able to capture him, and you still had no idea how the hell the rest of your team had managed it.

You were currently their last hope at getting some sort of information out of him, and by now the others knew very well by now how talented you were at getting it out of prisoners (albeit they didn't quite know what your methods were), hence why you were here in this room.

At this point you might as well have tried everything, these including the good old torture methods (which you noticed he seemed to quote like for some reason, perhaps he was a masochist, you weren’t completely sure), intimidation, asking politely (which wouldn't you know, didn't work), and practically everything you could think of.

As you racked your brain for any sort of other ideas, you could hear some sort of taunt from the other, and that must have set you off or something along those lines as you found yourself suddenly pinning the bastard down on the desk (you must have unlocked his handcuffs at one point during it, or perhaps he had already managed to unlock them beforehand, you weren't paying attention).

You wanted to think that the other was surprised, even just a little bit, but he wasn't, having probably expected you to have a small outburst.

Maybe you would have to resort to that. That one method that none of the others had seen in action, but one that if they did, you'd definitely get in a lot of trouble from. At least it always seemed to work.

So that's how you found yourself slowly fucking the other, not at all causing any pain, and although you'd expect the cold metal table would still inflicted just a little, you had taken the precaution to place something soft under the other to ensure that he couldn't get what he wanted. This was torture, even if in the eyes of others (not that they'd ever get to see this sight) it'd be much better, but no, it wasn't. You were well aware that the other wished for it to be harsh, having picked up on it earlier (the sick bastard), so you did the complete opposite. You weren't exactly used to it, but it was a last ditch effort.

So yeah thanks for reading whatever the hell that was :)

Idk how to continue it.

- ⨂ (I swear if that symbol has already been taken)

No no dude this is so good! SOrry it took me a lil while to respond lol, but you got my brain worms going brrrrrr so I'm just continuing it :Dd.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, Vladimir Makarov x male reader, short ficlet

You are so getting discharged for this.

"Is this what you wanted?" You ask under your breath, voice husky and raw. You grip his hip gently, your other hand keeping his tied wrists pinned to the scratchy blanket covering the cold table. "All that snark, all those insults," You slowly grind your hips, cock lazily scrapping against his walls and making him groan. "Is this what you wanted?"

It's not like he can talk with his tie gagging him. It's the softest material you had on hand, and it works to ensure Makarov doesn't bite you or himself. You're smart, despite him thinking on the contrary, more than the gruff animals that had captured him. No, you're clever. Clever enough to realize bloodshed and pain are not the stones that pave Makarov's road to hell.

Makarov trembles beneath you, teeth clenching on the fabric, desperate to get his lip between his teeth so he could bite it raw. He can't. Hell he can barely stifle the groans and moans, chest heaving to swallow the sound before it can stumble past his open mouth when your head grinds down on his prostate. Drool runs down his chin, precum leaking on his belly where his cock is trapped between your belies.

He wants to curse you out, wants to get his hands around your throat and squeeze until you choke on your own blood. But he only manages a small grunt, tear blurred eyes glaring up at you. His legs tighten around your waist, heels digging into your back.

A lick of pain races up your spine, but you don't fall for it, languidly rolling your hips. You'd taken your time to stretch him out with what you had, prepping him thoroughly even when he'd trashed and tried to kick you. You're glad you did, now Makarov can't ignore the stretch of his hole, your massive cock moulding his insides to your shape. It's just raw unadulterated feeling, please assaulting his mind whenever you bottom out and your cock bulges his stomach without any pain; so sweet it's sickening to him.

He'd kick himself at how the disgustingly sweet pleasure has his cock twitching, body winding tight as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. But his mind is starting to go numb, the hate he feels shrouded by the nearing edge of bliss. He nearly seizes off the table when you wrap your calloused hand around the base of his cock, squeezing until he's just at the cusp of pain.

"Nu-uh." You growl and stop, cock twitching deep inside him. Leaning down to press gentle kisses across his throat that burn him like acid. "You're not getting off easy." You growl, kissing the corner of his lip. "Not until you give me what I need." You look at him expectantly.

He bares his teeth, swinging his head to try and headbutt you, but you pull your head just at the right time.

"Have it your way." Your grip relaxes, starting to jerk him off at the same pace of your languidly rolling hips. His head rolls back, his best attempt at a hateful sound escaping him when his head rests on the soft blanket. He hates it, tries to struggle as best he can but it's fruitless as you just hold him down, forcing him to just take it, to just suffer this gentle torture.

You may be discharged for this. But fuck, you'll make him suffer before you are.