#trying to get back into drawing again so this is a bit rough but i'm trying not to stress

[whimsylilies]

Because Astarion should get plenty of bedtime cuddles. And he should also get a pillow nest.

Some closer ups.

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 18th. mattheo — hate fucking / enemies.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: “at least her favourite form of foreplay isn’t an argument…” “or being a bitch her kink..”

warnings: 18+ MDNI, dubcon(meh), ex bf/gf trope, toxic behaviour, mutual manipulation, these two are chaotic as fuck, mentions of blood, gagging, degradation, rough sex PIV, hate fucking, spitting, spanking, uhhh i think that covers it. this one is a ride. can you tell this is my fav trope?

"I'm so fucking sick of you.”

"Get well soon, princess."

"Get fucked, Riddle."

Three sentences, three venomous insults that cut the room in half—heavy enough in their intensity to make you want to tear through dungeon walls, splintering stone and mortar with bare hands if it means sparing yourself another second in this blasted room, with him.

Detention at midnight—on a Friday, no fucking less—is unheard of. But leave it to your dickhead ex to make the impossible a reality. His fault, of course. Like always.

Snape had turned a blind eye for months. It was only a matter of time before something had to give. An hour unsupervised was as good as you'll get.

Sulking defeat, you sink back in your chair, rough wood digging into your spine as you eye Mattheo with a glare that could rival a bullet. He looks like hell, and it's infuriating how even in that state he manages to look so nonchalant, so maddeningly unbothered—like even exhaustion makes a home on him and he's comfortable with it. Bags under his eyes, scar cutting across the bridge of his nose, those dark curls falling messily over his forehead, white dress shirt wrinkled and open at the collar.

You roll your eyes, a gesture that feels like your only act of rebellion left.

And he notices. Of course he does.

"You haven't changed a bit," he spits, and you know it's an insult. You scowl as he swipes the blood off his chin with the sleeve of his shirt. "Always a bitch to me over something."

Bitch. The name strikes you, but you won't let him see it, won't let him know that it lands. You've bled too many times at his feet for him to draw blood again tonight.

"Am I not allowed to be pissed off that you dragged us into detention? We should be at the party, Mattheo. We should be anywhere but here." You hear the frustration rising in your voice, like it's boiling up from somewhere deep, somewhere you can't quite reach. It's hard not to let it slip, especially when he looks at you like that. "This is so fucking typical of you. You mess up, and somehow I'm the one who pays for it."

For a moment, there's silence, and it almost feels like a victory until you realize he's only biding his time, waiting to strike back.

"You really want to get back there? To that party?" He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You long for the chair to break from under him. "After what your new man was caught doing with Lovegood?"

You snort before you can stop yourself, the sound slipping out like a reflex. You hadn't expected that. And quite frankly, it's amusing—no, downright hilarious—that he's clearly been keeping tabs on you and "new man", and now here he is, trying to play it off like he doesn't care. Like it's nothing.

"I'll spare you the insults this once," you mutter, fingers loosening the tie around your neck with a tug. "Because, clearly, you're ignorant to the truth, even if you think you know every goddamn thing." You pause, ripping out your earrings. "He's not my man, so I don't give a shit what he does with who. He ended it last week. Good fuck, sure—but other than that..."

You trail off, making a mocking noise with your lips, a derisive puff of air, as if you could blow away the memory of him as easily as dust off an old book. A Ravenclaw. Brilliant in all the wrong ways—sharp mind, yes, but utterly thrill-less, like he saw you as just another page to flip through, a textbook he was annotating.

It is what it is.

A moment passes and then Mattheo grins—slow at first, but spreading across his face like fire, destructive in its consummation. It unsettles you. He looks more intrigued than he's been in months.

"A good fuck, huh?"

"That's what I said," you reply, clipped, your tone offering no room for him to crawl inside.

"And why didn't it work out? Too good for you?" He says, twisting the knife just because he can. "Too clean, maybe?"

Your eyes scan the room, searching for something within reach to throw at him, anything to break this unbearable tension. Insufferable. Every inch of him, insufferable.

You find nothing, so you throw words instead. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

He nods, as if that's the truest thing either of you have said all night. Of course he knows.

You barely suppress a dry laugh at his idiocy. "Like I told you—he ended it. If you're so fucking interested in why it didn't work out, then why don't you go ask him?"

There's a pause—he's chewing the inside of his cheek as he stares at you. You imagine chewing his head off as you stare at him.

"I'm sure you gave that bookworm the ride of his life," he says, voice half-dry, half-sarcastic, as if he's already bored of the conversation. As if he knew all of this information already. "Everyone knew that was temporary. Your first rebound, congrats."

And just like that, your blood is boiling. He knows how to needle you, how to get under your skin with the slightest flick of his stupid fucking tongue. Your eyes trace the cold stone of the dungeon walls, desperately trying to find something—anything—to distract yourself.

But it's no use. Mattheo's an asshole. He's always been an asshole. That's why you left. All the two of you did was fight and fuck, a chaotic spiral that was as thrilling as it was destructive. Now, he's easily your enemy—dragging you into his messes, never letting you get too far without ruining your life somehow.

And yet—

If you said you didn't miss the sex sometimes, that'd be a lie. Or at least a half-truth. The kind that slips out when you've had one too many glasses of firewhiskey, the kind you'd regret in the morning.

"What about you, dickhead?" You cut through the silence, ignoring his obvious attempt to rile you up. "That Hufflepuff you were seeing—why'd I see her all over Theo tonight?"

He answers far too fast. "They're friends."

You snort, disbelieving. "Right."

You rise to your feet, crossing the room to the bookcase as if it's the most natural thing in the world. The books feel safer somehow, less volatile.

"You're bored of her, aren't you?" You don't care to look at him. You can imagine the way his jaw tenses at the question.

The silence is telling. He doesn't answer right away. You know him well enough to understand what that means. Then, finally, he speaks, a half-answer that doesn't really answer the fucking question at all.

"At least her favourite form of foreplay isn't a fucking argument." He stands, slow, pushing his hair back from his forehead with one battered hand. You glance at him, pulse quickening. "Or being a bitch her kink."

"Does she even have kinks?" It slips out, a knife thrown without aiming. "Sounds like you're bored, Matty."

You watch as he blinks, his eyes darken. That nickname—you know you don't have the right to say it anymore, and that's exactly why you do. It's an insult wrapped in familiarity, and it hits its mark by the way his shoulders tense, jaw tight.

He steps toward you, one calculated step, and you feel it—that chaotic pull, the gravity that's always drawn you both in, no matter how far you try to stay away. A smile pulls at your lips, a cruel thing.

"How cute." He tilts his head just enough to inspect you, eyes dragging over you like he's searching for something to confirm what he already suspects. "Looks like you're jealous."

Your hand grips the bookshelf, eyes locked on him over your shoulder. Jealous? There's not a soul on this planet who could make you jealous. She may be the hero of this story, the girl that gets the guy, might even be everything you're not—

"Looks like you're learning the hard way," you're inspecting him now, too. Every piece of him you once touched. "When it comes too easy it's never gonna' hit as hard, babe."

Another pause from him—something dancing in his eyes. Anger? Maybe. Or something more, something twisted that you don't care to name. You've already lit the match, and now you're just watching him burn.

"You're so clever, huh? So full of advice," he sneers, ripping off his tie and chucking it on a desk. "Go on then, tell me more about how I feel, professor. Since you know everything about me."

You can't help the smirk that curls on your lips. Oh, he's pissed. And that means you're winning.

"What? You don't like hearing the truth? Too much for your delicate ego?" You take a step toward him, savouring every second of this. He hurt you, over and over, the scars from those days still fresh, still bleeding beneath your skin. This has been a long time coming. "You think I care about your new girl, Matty? The one you let your boys fawn over in the common room?...she kissed Theo tonight." You pause, letting that linger. "You think you're doing something, but I see right through you. You don't give a fuck about her. If you did, no one would dare touch her like that. So don't sit here, accusing me of jealousy, like I'm the one hung up on you. You're projecting. And it's pathetic."

He doesn't waste a goddamn beat—his laugh is bitter, sickeningly so—and he advances again, his shadow moving behind him, the space between you now barely there.

"That's amazing, truly. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a goddamn oracle. All-knowing, all-seeing." His voice is infuriating. The look on his face more-so. "What's your verdict then, my lord? You think this is all an act? That everything I'm doing is just to spite you?"

Your heart races, breath catching in your throat as he steps closer. This is a dance you both know too well, the kind where neither of you win.

"I know how you operate." Your chest heaves, anger rising with every breath. "It's all a game to you, Matt. A sick, twisted game to keep yourself entertained."

"That's rich, coming from someone who played it just as well." He takes another step forward. You could reach out and touch him now he's that close. His grin grows. "Too bad your Ravenclaw figured it out before you could sink your teeth in too deep. Next time you see him, make sure to tell him I said you're welcome."

Your brows pinch—the blood in your veins screeching to a halt, backing up like New York traffic at a standstill. You feel it, hot and furious, rushing toward a place it can't go, clogged behind the wall of rage building up inside you—

"You're welcome?" You spit, a sharp snarl caught between clenched teeth. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He's watching you, his eyes darting over your shoulder, fingers brushing over his lips like he's trying to dull that familiar smirk, that cruel little game he's always played.

Your stomach sinks, drops to your feet.

"Mattheo—" you snap, cutting him off just as he opens his mouth, before he can throw another snide word. "Spare me the cryptic bullshit for once in your life—“

His eyebrows lift at that, but there's a nod, a hint of something deeper in it. You taste the smugness in the air between you, can almost feel it slithering through his silence.

"Looks like you don't know everything after all. Isn't that ironic?" He straightens up, letting the moment breathe before his face hardens into something almost serious. "Your rebound came to me in the courtyard about two weeks ago. Had some questions about you."

"What?" Your nerves are vibrating, every cell in your body on edge. Your blood is so clogged, you swear you're seeing red. "What questions?"

"The usual sort of normal stuff. Your birthday. Your favorite colour. Childhood traumas. Our downfall. You know."

The casualty in the way he says it makes you sick, bile rising in your throat, a bitter burn at the back of your mouth. It's all starting to come together now. This stupid motherfucker—

"You're lying." The words feel weak, frail. He wouldn't—no, he couldn't. "You're fucking lying."

"Am I?" His fingers brush your cheek, but your skin's gone numb, your blood too frozen to feel anything but the cold burn of your fury. "Or, is the truth just…too much for your delicate ego to handle?"

Oh, fuck off—

Your wand is in your hand before you even realize you've grabbed it, instinct, pure reflex. There's barely a second of rational thought before you're casting, the spell hitting him square in the chest, sending him flying back into the chair he once sat in. His eyes flash, anger igniting there, and he scrambles for his wand—but you're faster.

"Expelliarmus."

One word and you're across the room before you even know you've moved, chest tight as you slam the tip of your wand against his throat. There's a cut on his lip, blood trickling down his chin for a second time tonight, but that stupid fucking smirk is still there, showcasing rubies for teeth and carved into his face like it belongs.

"Tell me what you did." Your voice cracks, but not from fear—it's fury, burgling through you, burning hot enough to make your whole body shake. You half want to cut him open just to bury your rage inside him, let him feel it. "If what you're saying is true, he ended things just days later. Tell me what the fuck you said to him."

Mattheo’s leaning back, hands raised in mock surrender, eyes glinting with the same smug amusement that's always haunted him. He's daring you, taunting you. He knows you never cared about that guy, not really.

You both know it. He was boring, easy.

This—this is something else.

His tongue swipes at the blood on his lip. "He didn't tell you—"

"Don't." Your wand digs deeper into his skin, cutting off whatever he was about to say. The pressure makes his breath hitch, but not enough. Not nearly enough. "I said tell me."

"Merlin—okay—I told him nothing, nothing really," his voice makes your grip tighten on your wand. He stares at you for a long, hard minute before he adds; "except that he should show me some fucking gratitude."

Your jaw slips, confusion rushing in like a flood. But before you can even question him—

"I told him he should be thanking me." Another pause. "When he's fucking you."

He laps at the blood seeping from the cut on his lip for the second time in only a minute and you barely notice the movement—the words hit you like a brick, but it's deeper than that, something visceral that crawls under your skin and settles in your bones. It's sharp, raw, cutting through the wall of rage so fast it leaves you breathless. You don't know how to explain it, this feeling that twists through you, something far too complicated to be named.

And then, you become aware of everything at once.

His legs, spread wide on either side of yours, the space between you so small, your chest just close enough to his face that his breath feels like it's fogging your skin. You're towering over him, wand pressed hard into his throat, your heart hammering in your chest like you're ready to ruin him—but his eyes, the way he looks up at you, says he'd let you.

"I may have even added that although you're with him, you'll always think of me. Both you and him know it’s true.“ That stupid smirk is gone, replaced with something you've never quite seen before. He pauses, before he continues. "You miss it. Us." Another pause. There’s something victorious in his tone, something that's almost breaking you. "And no matter how many times you try to forget, you never do, do you?"

Salazar save you—you should hex him. You should fucking hex him. Every nerve in your body is screaming for it, begging for it, but you can't. You can't fucking move. Your wand is still pressed to his skin, but it feels like you're the one pinned down.

"Shut up," you finally manage, but your voice is meek, thin, nothing like the fury you want to feel. "You...you're being—"

"I'll shut up," his hand finds your wrist, pressing your wand tip against his neck with more force—enough to make himself wince. "If you make me."

You blink, stunned, and you can feel your anger slipping, slipping faster than you can catch it. You don't know what's happening to you—it’s just him—his sick twisted insanity that disarms you. Time and time again. An endless fucking cycle.

"I could ruin you," you whisper, but it sounds more like you're trying to convince yourself than him. You press the wand deeper, just enough to draw a grunt from him, but the look on his face—he's not afraid. No, he's enjoying it. "I have more reasons than most to leave you here bloodied for Snape to find in the morning."

You say the words but the conviction is gone, swept away in the flood of heat between you—the dizzying proximity, the way his lips curl, almost smiling but not quite—

"What are you so afraid of?" He whispers, and there's something fragile in his voice now. "That you might actually want this?"

"I don't want this." You force the words out immediately, hoping they will make it real. Hoping they'll stop this spiral. "I regret ever wanting this."

He’s silent for a moment as he lowers his hands, dark eyes falling to trace your lips—

"I know you hate me, the feelings mutual...but I know. I know I'll always be your favourite regret," those chocolate curls shift, his head tilts closer, too close. Not close enough. "You're still my weapon of choosing."

Merlin. Merlin bloody forgive you—

"…to hurt yourself with?” It's half a question, but you already know the answer.

He nods, and that does it.

Your lips are on his, fast and hard and bruising—and the reaction is immediate, visceral. All that backed-up blood—all that rage frozen in your veins rushes forward in a single, scorching wave. It crashes low, between your thighs, a heat so sharp it aches. The shame comes with it. So does the disgust. A sick knot of self-hatred pulsing through you as you taste his blood on your tongue while his hands are under your skirt, grabbing you like he owns you, pulling you into him. It's only a moment before your wand clatters to the ground, and your hands are tangled in his hair, yanking hard, hard enough to hurt.

You want it to hurt. God, you want it to hurt.

He growls at the sting on his scalp—and then, everything flips.

His fingers tug at something, and you realize it's his own wand, the one you tucked into the back of your skirt—and before you can even think, he's got it, casting a spell that sends you flying back onto the desk behind you. You groan—the world spins, but you don't even have a second to gather yourself before he's advancing toward you, casting another spell on his tie.

Within seconds it's slithering across your lips and tying itself around your head, gagging you.

He steps between your legs, parts them with the ease of someone who's done it a thousand times before—rough hands gliding up your thighs, eyes wild. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, through your slit, and you try to hold on to any shred of control, but it's gone. You can feel it. The way you forget everything except the way he leans down, breath hot in your ear.

"Look how fucking wet you are," he spits through a sneering grin. "You're goddamn shameless, aren't you?"

You roll your eyes, but your thoughts scatter the moment his fingers shove inside you, curling hard—so hard you gasp into the tie, your back arching violently off the desk.

"He ever get you this wet?" His voice is like gravel, each word grinding into your bones. "Nod your head if he did."

Your body reacts before your mind does, arching against him, but you don't move your head. As much as it hurts your pride to give him that win. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull—hard enough to make him grunt, hard enough to hurt.

His hand comes down hard on your thigh in response, a sharp smack that stings, a warning. You squeal, and his fingers start pumping faster, deeper.

He huffs. "That's what I thought."

His fingers make quick work of you, relentless, and his thumb presses to your clit, rolling circles in a rhythm that has your blood on fire, shame licking at the edges of your vision, but it only makes you burn hotter. This is all wrong. Everything about this is wrong, something you'll regret with every fiber of your being tomorrow, but right now, it's an ache you need.

It's the wound you keep reopening, the pain you crave because it's the only thing that ever feels real.

"Fuck, you're close, aren't you?" He sounds almost shocked, like he can't believe how easily your body betrays you, but you feel it too, the disbelief crashing through you as fast as the pleasure does. Too fast. Far too fast. "Did he ever make you cum? Huh? When's the last time you fucking came?"

You can't answer, just groan, yanking at his hair again. His response is immediate, another stinging slap to your inner thigh, sharp enough to make fluid prick your eyes. Your orgasm is right there, teetering on the edge, ready to tip over—but then he slows his pace, dragging it out, torturing you.

You whine. A pitiful, desperate sound you hate yourself for.

"Look at me." His voice cuts through the haze, and begrudgingly, you do. "He didn't make you cum, did he?"

Your face burns, not from his breath or his fingers or even the astronomical amount of shame you feel—but from the truth of it. You shake your head.

"How long?" His voice shatters the air between you. "A week?"

You shake your head again, biting into the fabric of his tie as his fingers curl deeper inside you.

"Two weeks?"

Another shake. He curses under his breath.

"You poor little thing." His words are venom, but the second they spill from his lips, he pumps his fingers into you again, massaging at your walls, and your vision goes white. "Can't even cum without me."

You would've slapped him if you could, would've torn him apart, but the orgasm hits you like a freight train, ripping through you with violent force. You clench around his digits, thighs trembling as you ride the wave of pleasure, convulsing, moaning into the tie as he watches you like he's won.

"So fucking easy." He withdraws his fingers, and immediately, his hands go to his belt. "We'll make up for lost time."

Everything about this feels like a rerun. The same scene playing out on loop, again and again—a cycle of self-destruction you know too well, like running headfirst into a burning building, certain you can handle the smoke only to choke on it.

He's taking off his belt, ready to fuck you stupid, and by morning you'll be back to the same familiar hatred, tearing each other apart in new, inventive ways. Your hands move sluggishly to rip the tie from your mouth, but you're slow, too slow, still dizzy from the release that blindsided you, one that you haven't felt in so long—the fabric barely grazes your fingers before Mattheo catches your wrists, yanking them back, dragging you to your feet in one rough motion.

The spin disorients you—arms pinned behind your back, his cock sliding between your thighs.

"You've done enough talking today," he hisses at your ear as he drags along your slit. "You want this, don't you?"

Your mind screams for you to shake your head, to end this here and now. You know he'd stop—he's an asshole, but not that kind of an asshole. You know it. You almost do it, almost say the word that would shatter this madness. But then he drags his tip against your clit and you moan before you can stop yourself.

Your head nods with a wanton moan, and it's so full of shame your eyes sting with tears.

"Yeah, I know, baby." He's taunting you, every syllable smug, condescending. "This pussy missed me so much, huh?" His hand tightens on your wrists until your skin burns, the other hand finding its way around your thigh, pulling you closer to him. "Fuckin' lost without me. S'all it's good for, isn't it? Taking my cock."

You groan, shaking your head in defiance, but even that feels like a lie. You hate him. You want him. You hate yourself for wanting him.

"No?" His fingers inch toward your clit, ghosting over it—you squeal, hips jerking for more. "Maybe we should call this off then?"

You blink once and his fingers are gone—wrenching a whine out of you, pathetic as you push your ass back against him, shame burning through you as you shake your head. Fuck him. Curse him. But you need him inside you, need him to fill the aching void that gnaws at you.

"That's my slut," he growls, and before you can process the words, he's inside you—one long, brutal thrust that spears you open, the stretch burning deep. The sting mixes with shock of his fingers returning to your clit, rubbing circles that make your knees buckle. "You know you're the only girl I've fucked raw? This pussy will always be mine."

He's fucking insane. Completely insane. And the worst part is, you're just as insane for wanting him. For needing him. You can't fight it. You don't even want to. Not now. Not when his voice drips like poison and he's tearing you apart in the only way you understand.

"Mmmf—" you groan into the tie and he's matching you, his teeth grazing your shoulder, marking you in ways that will last for days.

"I hope it hurts," he grumbles against your skin, his breath ragged. He's lying, you can feel it in the way his fingers are moving, coaxing you to cum, even as he pretends to wish you pain. "I hope it fucking stings."

Your hands ball into fists, trapped in his grip, and you imagine clawing at his back until you draw blood, sinking your nails in until he feels every ounce of your anger.

"I want you to feel it—fuck—I want you to remember this," he pants, his voice barely more than a growl as your climax crashes toward you, unstoppable now. "Remember how weak I make you. How much of a slut you are for me."

Another harsh thrust and then, you're there—falling into the void—pleasure is so strong it bleeds out of you, forcing your cunt to clamp tight around him, legs trembling, barely able to support you through it. Mattheo’s curses slip through clenched teeth, but this only fuels him—his rhythm picks up, brutal, hips slamming against your ass with a pace that borders on unhinged.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck." The words are barely audible, grunted against the shell of your ear. You're whining, still twitching with aftershocks, but he doesn't care. His hands are on your hips now, fingers digging deep as he thrusts you forward, slamming you over the desk. The wood bites into your palms as you try to brace yourself, but his anger is palpable, drilling into you— "you wanna bitch at me now?"

The moan you release is automatic, instinctual. You can't stop it. Can't control it. His fingers curl around your throat, shifting the tie down to shove two into your mouth.

"Hhhhh—" you're trying to form words around his fingers, but it's impossible. The garbled sound is pathetic, but he knows exactly what you're trying to say.

"You hate me. I know." It’s smug, punctuated by a sharp smack to your ass, the sting of it making you yelp. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping the spit across your cheek before he grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn, to meet his eyes. "Open your mouth."

There's no time to process the demand. His eyes are molten, crazed, filled with something raw and uncontainable. His next thrust is punishing, slamming into your cervix, making you sob—your mouth parting just enough—

He leans in close, and then he spits into your mouth.

"Swallow it." His fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing the order into your bones. "Be a good girl for once."

You choke out a laugh, even as you're panting, even as he's splitting you stupid.

"Never." The word barely leaves your lips before you’re spitting back at him—your entwined saliva landing across his chin and lips.

For a second, you expect the worst—you brace yourself for the retaliation—the slap, the insult, the way he'll tighten his grip and take back control. But to your surprise, instead of anger, there's a grin—wide and feral, big and crazed enough to reach his eyes.

You smile back. His cock twitches inside you.

"Fuck me," he mutters, then crashes his mouth to yours.

You taste the salt and bitterness of mingled spit, a mess of his and yours, and it pulls a moan from somewhere deep inside you. He devours it, greedy, his hips growing erratic, sloppy as his high nears.

His hand drops to your clit, fingers pressing with a precision that obliterates every last shred of sanity—and it takes only moments before the pressure builds again, fast and furious. Your third orgasm rips you apart, your body clenching tight, muscles seizing as you're lost in it. You're not sure where you end and he begins—your breath congealing with his, your moans swallowed in the space between you.

His release follows right after, crashing over him as he buries himself deep, spilling into you with a groan that reverberates through your bones. You hate the way it feels. You hate the way he fills you. But you also can't deny the twisted satisfaction of it—the way you sought this punishment, needed it. The shame consumes you, but it's comforting in its familiarity.

He pulls out, and the silence between you is easy, broken only by your ragged breathing. The room feels impossibly small now, your body still thrumming with the aftermath, but the moment is over. You both start to move—piecing yourselves back together, pulling clothes into place, avoiding the weight of what just happened.

You don't understand how it came to this, how it always does, but you're not surprised. Not anymore.

After a long, silent moment, he looks at you. “I don’t regret what I did.”

You know he doesn’t.

“I know.”

He blinks. “I won’t apologize for it.”

You know he won’t.

“I know.”

He nods, now, a smirk on his lips as he watches you fix your skirt. You note the hair sticking to his forehead, how he’s still catching his breath even though he’s pretending he isn’t.

“You aren’t mad.” An observation.

“I’m not.” You reply. You know you should be, but the relief you felt when that Ravenclaw ended things tells you everything you need to know. “Just, never do it again.”

He nods again. “Sure.”

You’re pretty sure he doesn’t mean that—but, at least now, as you glance over at him, there's a small comfort in knowing you no longer want to kill him.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

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@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

[strawberrymochin]

The Moan Analysis✎

A slight analysis on how jjk boys would moan | Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Nanami kento; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro | got a little carried away while writing nanami and toji

Gojo satoru

✎ starting off with the vocal king of sorcerers, gojo's moans would be vocal 'vocal'. Normally gojo has a playful smooth voice that does charms to human ears, however it changes completely in bed. His voice would go two or three octaves lower as he pants and groans as he thrusts in you. He's a kinda guy who would whispers slutty compliments while fucking you in the middle of the night, depriving you of your beauty sleep. If you're the one who's riding him, he would be squirming as whimpers would follow his delicate trembling lips, especially if you clench too hard around him. He has no shame voicing his pleasures and thus innocently ruins neighbour's peace.

Geto suguru

✎ Suguru's a guy, who lies mostly within rough grunts to panting breaths. He won't be the one to be much vocal while doing the thing. The vocal one in the relationship would be you, since you can't keep your mouth shut when he takes you (c'mon I mean nobody can keep it shut if it's geto suguru). He loves hearing your moans instead. And boy, he hasn't voiced out his thoughts yet, as its kinda embarrassing to him but if you would agree to it, he would record your moans into a playlist. I'm not even kidding, there would be a sorted out one containing your moans from finger fucking, eating you out, fucking you etc. (not to mention he would jerk off to those playlists when you're away from him)

Nanami kento

✎ ASMR. I repeat ASMR. The moans of nanami kento would be literal asmr to your ears. As a former salary man and now again a sorcerer, nanami gets real tired and has trouble sleeping. You were thinking of suggesting him asmr to relieve stress however you realised maybe he would want something more better. And this is how you would find yourself facing the mattress as your back is firmly pressed on namami's toned chest as he thrusts in and out, while snaking an arm around your curves finding his way to your neck slightly choking you, making you drool. His moans would be breathy and slight croaky. He won't waste his stamina trying to talk rather than keep his mind focused on the sensation on the pleasure where you suck him in so good. The only time he would be any vocal would be when he reaches his climax as he cums inside you with a series of low groans.

Ryomen sukuna

✎ Kk, forget about his moaning, this merciless guy would fuck you so hard that you would barely hear any sound other than you whining and moaning under him. The only time you could hear him moan, would be when you give him a blowjob or a titjob whatever he wants. His moans would consist of breathy groans to slight pants while he degrades you. You would know you're doing a great job if his voice cracks while passing you a snarky comment or if his breath hitched while you draw your tongue over his tip licking it clean as it twitches in your mouth. Though every single thing you do would make him experience heaven (which he would never go, nor you guys....lol) he would never accept that you have a slight dominance when sucking him or riding him as it would affect his ego.

Toji fushiguro

✎ Forget about his moans, his existence itself is the sluttiest to ever happen. Also he's such a softie in love babe I swear. He won't be much vocal again except the time he reaches his climax. He would cum as he whispers delicate words of you being such a good girl taking him in as he pants and groans. His words might mess up a little bit, as he cums, might end up blabbering nonsense incoherent words as he rides his high. He makes sure to say one thing everytime you guys have sex, is that he's grateful for you to exist in his world and would beg you a million times to never disappear. To never leave him. That's the only time he shows his true self to you, which you embrace in your arms, cupping his cheeks to gently kiss him to sleep. Even though he seems tough outside, I feel he might be the most insecure person due to his childhood experiences and might hesitate to open up to you. But there's no doubt he would be on his knees for you.

Other parts of the series- The cum analysis | The dick analysis

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[crimsonbubble]

no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny

[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]

MINORS DNI!!

he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.

letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.

as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.

miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."

miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"

miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.

"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.

and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.

with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.

every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.

"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.

your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."

you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.

in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.

you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"

you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.

he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.

[banj0possum]

umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?

Fish Bait

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader

CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?

🌊 You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.

🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.

🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.

🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.

🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.

🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"

🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"

🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.

🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.

🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.

🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.

🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"

🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."

🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"

🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.

🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"

🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."

🌊 "...You're not?"

🌊 "Yeah..."

🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.

🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...

🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.

🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.

🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.

🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?

🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.

🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.

🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"

🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."

🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"

🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."

🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.

🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.

🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.

🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"

🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.

🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.

🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!

🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.

🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.

🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.

🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"

🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.

🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"

🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.

🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.

🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.

🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.

🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.

🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."

🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.

🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"

this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh

[wzkfuu]

:3

Basically Leon just getting edged also yes this is probably gonna be ass👅👅

reader is a women and um um this is SMUT SEXUAL THINGS ARE HAPPENING MDNI!!

okay enjoy

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*

Leon’s propped up against his headboard, back at his own apartment. His hand’s wrapped around his cock, pre-come beading at his tip. He bucks up into his fist shallowly, cussing softly to himself as pleasure washes over him.

His eyes flutter shut, images of her , flashing through his mind. Her touching him, feeling him. Her warmth against him, Her soft hands around his cock, whispering dirty obscenities into his ear. In his free hand, he holds his phone— tilted to his ear with the voice message she had sent him recently. He moans aloud, tilting his head back as he replays it over and over again. He loves it, he loves her voice. His other hand thats wrapped around his cock starts stroking faster, his hips bucking up abortedly— he’s so fucking close.

"...oh fuck, —," She hears Leon moan, hearing the whimpers and groans on the other end. Unbeknownst to Leon, while listening to her voice recording, he had pressed call. She had picked it up of course.

“Leon? Is everything alright?” He hears from the other side of the line.

Leon freezes, eyes wide. Holy shit. He’d accidentally called her and she picked up. She heard him. Oh god. He was so close, too. He wanted to just let it go, let himself fall over the edge with her voice in his ear, but his pride stops him. He can’t let her know how fucked up he is, how much he needs this...needs her.

"Uh...yeah. everything's fine." He says breathlessly, trying to play it cool. He clears his throat, hoping she doesn’t notice how ragged it sounds. "Sorry, I must've hit the call button by accident. What's up?"

He keeps stroking himself, slower now, savoring the sensation. It's not the same as when she touches him, but it'll have to do. He bites his lip, stifling another moan as he imagines her watching him, seeing what he's doing. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

“Leon are you..are you jerking off right now?” She says whispering the last bit

Leon freezes, eyes widening. Fuck. How did she know? He swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. "I...uh...I don't know what you're talking about..." He lies unconvincingly, his voice strained. He can't deny it, not with the evidence right there in her ear. His ragged breathing, the slick slide of his hand over his cock. He's been caught red-handed.

A part of him wants to hang up, to escape this humiliation. But another part, a darker, needier part, wants to embrace it. Wants her to know exactly what she do to him. He groans softly, his hips twitching up into his fist. "Maybe I am..." He admits, his voice barely above a whisper. He's trembling now, his orgasm building despite his best efforts to hold it back.

"Fuck, baby ... I can't help it. I think about you all the time. About your hands on me, your mouth..." He pants, losing himself in the fantasy. He's so close, teetering on the edge. He just needs a little more. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum. Please, say something else. Anything..." He begs, too far gone to care how desperate he sounds.

“Didn’t know you’d be the type for phone sex Leon. , you’re a little naughty aren’t you?” God , he can practically hear her smirking from here.

Leon groans at her words, his grip on his cock tightening. Fuck, she sounds so good. So dirty. He loves this side of her, loves seeing her let her guard down. Loves knowing that he's the one who brings it out in her.

"Yeah...yeah, I am. I'm fucking naughty. Especially when it comes to you." He growls, his voice low and rough with desire. He starts stroking faster, chasing his release. He's so close, he can feel it building at the base of his spine. His balls draw up tight, his body tensing.

"I want you, baby. I want to bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk straight. I want to make you scream my name." He pants, his words coming out in broken gasps. He's right on the edge, teetering, waiting for her permission to let go.

"Please... please tell me to cum. I need it. I need you baby..please..." He begs, his voice breaking. He's shaking now, his body wound tight with tension. He's never needed anyone like this before. Never wanted someone so badly. He needs her so so badly, needs her touch, her approval. Needs everything she can give him.

“No. You’re gonna wait since you lied to me at first .” She smiles lying down on her own bed feeling the wetness in her panties slowly circling around her clit.

Leon whines as she denies him release, his cock throbbing in frustration. He's so fucking close, he can taste it. But she’s right, he did lie to her. He deserves this punishment.

"Fuck, baby. Please, I'm sorry. I'll take it back, I swear. Just let me cum." He begs, his voice high and needy. He hates how desperate he sounds, but he can't help it. His body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

He keeps stroking himself, teasing the sensitive head. He knows he shouldn't, knows he'll just make it worse. But he can't stop. He's addicted to the sensation, to the pleasure.

"I'll do anything, baby. Anything you want. Just please, don't leave me like this. I need you." He sobs, his hips bucking up into his hand. He's a mess, he knows. A pathetic, whimpering mess. But he doesn't care. All he cares about is her , about pleasing her.

He's shaking now, his body wracked with need. He's never felt anything like this before, never been so consumed by desire. He needs her, needs her touch, her approval.

"Baby.., please... I'll be good. I promise. I'll make it so good for you. Just tell me what to do..." He pleads, his voice breaking. He's begging now, shameless in his need. He'll do anything she asks, anything at all. As long as she doesn’t leave him hanging like this , desperately stroking his cock with all that pathetic whining.

“Don’t do anything. I’ll be there soon.” He hears before the call ends now sitting there waiting.

[sicutpuella]

I’ll Wait | Simon “Ghost” Riley 4.8k words

“Is there nothing I can do to stop you?” Her eyes were downcast; the room was dark, only moonlight streaming through the windows. It was silent, like the whole world paused, except for the two of them.

He paused, a lit cigarette between his crooked fingers. Smoke curled from his lips, a haze in the moonlight. An exhale, "No." The single word hung in the air heavier than the smoke. She looked again at the already-organized tactical gear on her floor. It was a mocking reminder of what will be taken away from her.

“It’s a suicide mission, can’t they have someone else in exchange for you?” There was anger, pain, and betrayal all at once.

"There is no one else to send," he replied, his voice cold and firm. He took a drag on the cigarette, the tip burning a deep red before fading into the darkness. "Besides, there's no one better suited for this than me."

“But you could die!”

The words hung in the air, a silent echo of the unspoken fears between them. The room felt colder, the moonlight harsher. She fought back tears, her heart heavy with the weight of impending loss.

His eyes flickered, the tiniest crack in his stoic facade. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just watching her, before finally responding in a low voice. "I know."

She blinked. And one. And another. And a tear.

He pushed himself off the wall and moved closer to her. Taking another draw from the cigarette, he took a moment to exhale before speaking. "Don't... cry." The words were said softly, almost a plea.

She took the deepest inhale, trying to preserve his scent in her memory as long as possible.

“Why you?”

He paused for a beat, his gaze lingering on her face before looking away. He dropped the cigarette into an ashtray before answering. "I'm expendable."

"No, you’re not… no, you’re not…" she shook her head repeatedly, tears falling with each movement.

He closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands. "Stop crying." His thumbs wiped away her tears, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man who was so rough and cold.

He exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving her face. "This... this mission. It's the only way." He paused, as if debating whether to say more. "And... they're right. I am expendable."

"You don’t get to say that, Simon! You don’t!" She bit her lip, stopping a scream.

His grip on her face tightened almost imperceptibly, his eyes dark as he looked at her. "Then what else am I supposed to say?!" His voice was edged with irritation, and a hint of something that almost sounded like pain.

She didn’t know either. This was out of their control; she was still a civilian with no knowledge about this.

She just stared at him, feeling the weight of the impending loss pressing down on her chest, the agony of knowing he was slipping away.

She took another breath, fanning herself. She could feel her throat constrict, her heart breaking with every single beat.

He exhaled deeply, the sound a mixture of irritation and frustration. Loosening his grip on her face, his fingers gently cupped her chin. "Don't look at me like that."

He held her gaze for a moment before sighing deeply, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Stop thinking the worst. I’m coming back, you hear me?” His voice was firm, almost commanding.

But deep down, even he knew it was a lie. Simon had read the report a hundred times.

A subtle tension gripped his jaw; a flicker of doubt danced in his eyes. He knew the truth. The report was a death sentence. Yet he spoke with confidence, "I've done this a thousand times before. I'll be fine."

His words were meant to reassure her, but hesitation lingered in his voice. Changing the subject abruptly, he shifted his gaze to the floor. "I... I have something for you. It's in the bedroom."

"Huh?"

Releasing her face, he gestured toward the bedroom door. "Wait here."

He turned and disappeared into the dimly lit bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. She remained limp on the couch, her limbs refusing to move.

Rummaging through a drawer, he searched for something. Moonlight filtered through the window as he returned moments later, holding a small velvet box.

"Sit up," he instructed gently as he settled beside her on the couch, the box cradled in his hands. He waited for her to comply.

With effort, she nodded and sat upright.

He nodded in approval, extending the box toward her. "Open it."

Watching her closely, his eyes flickered between her face and the box.

Carefully, she opened the box, her voice rough as she spoke, "A necklace..."

He grunted in confirmation. "It's a locket," he gruffly replied, observing as she lifted the delicate silver locket from its velvet nest. "Open it," he urged softly.

He waited, watching her every move, as she opened the locket. Inside was a tiny photo—a picture of both of them during one of their beach days. He spoke quietly, "For you to... have something to remind you of me."

And all the emotions flooded her body again; every memory, every pain, every joy—the looming feeling of his permanent departure. She fell to her knees.

He moved quickly, his body tensing as she collapsed. He knelt down next to her, his hands gently guiding her onto his lap. "Hey, hey... don't cry," he said softly. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he tucked her head under his chin.

He held her there for a moment, letting her cry into his chest, his body shielding her from everything else in the world. His voice was low, "I hate seeing you cry..."

Despite his tough exterior, there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice. He continued to hold her, his hand gently rubbing circles on her back, a comforting gesture to soothe her tears.

She was screaming, wailing…

He winced at the sound of her screams and wails, his arms tightening around her. He hated seeing her like this, so helpless and vulnerable. He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was the cause of her pain. "Shhh…" He tried to soothe her, his voice rough with concern. "Calm down…"

He rocked her gently, his body trying to provide her any semblance of comfort. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." He repeated the words over and over again, like a mantra, hoping that they would be enough to ease her pain.

“Please come back to me…”

He inhaled sharply at her words, the weight of her plea hitting him like a punch to the gut. He held her closer, his fingers digging into her skin as he spoke. "I will." His voice was firm, resolute. "I promised you, didn't I? I'll come back."

But there was that doubt in his voice. He knew it. It was a contract for death. But he couldn’t show his weakness. He can’t.

His arms tightened around her again, holding her so closely that it seemed as if he was trying to physically keep her from falling apart. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding her gaze, as he continued to speak. "I've been in worse situations. This is nothing. Trust me."

It was an attempt at reassuring her, but the waver in his voice betrayed him. He was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. He knew the risks, the odds, and the high possibility that he may not return alive.

He had spent the last month ensuring she would be well taken care of if he dies—bank statements, account and estate transfers.

He continued, his voice growing more ragged with each word, "I've been through hell and back, and I always come out alive. This is no different." He forced a laugh, trying to sound nonchalant, but it came out as a bitter, mirthless sound.

He gently pulled her face up, forcing her to look at him. His eyes met hers, his gaze intense and raw. "You have to trust me. I'll come back." He repeated the words with conviction, as if saying it enough times would turn it into truth.

But he knew he wouldn’t. That’s why he put her on his will. But she’ll only find out about it if he dies.

He could see the doubt in her eyes, but he chose to ignore it. He pushed her head back down onto his chest, his hand resuming the gentle stroking motion on her back. "I won't die," he said firmly, even though he knew it was a lie. "Not after everything we've been through. Not after all the fights, the laughter, the joy. I'm coming back, and we're going to have a life together. Just you wait."

“We just got married last year…” she weeps.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on her tightening almost imperceptibly. "I know," he said, his voice hoarse. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling heavily as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "I... I didn't plan on this mission, you know that."

"It just... fell into my lap and I couldn't say no…" He tried to justify himself, his voice trailing off, the weight of the truth sinking in. He had made a deal with the devil, and now he was paying the price, with his life.

"But I'll come back," he repeated the words like a mantra, forcing confidence into his voice that he didn't feel. His chest ached at the thought of leaving her behind, of not being able to fulfill all the promises he had made to her.

"Please... you have to... we have to have a family... please Simon! Please!" She was in agony, tortured by the pain tearing through her.

His body tensed at her words, fingers digging into her skin. He struggled to maintain control, the weight of her pleas tugging at his heartstrings. "Don't you think I want that?" he snapped, frustration and guilt boiling over. "Don't you think I want to come back, build a life with you, have a family, grow old together?"

He released a shaky breath, his voice thick with emotion. "But... this isn't about what I want. It's about what I have to do." The bitterness of duty hung heavy in his words, stark against his attempts to reassure her with love.

“Duty above all.”

He chuckled bitterly. "Always…" he murmured, eyes softening as he saw the raw pain etched on her face. Cupping her cheek, his fingertips traced over her tear-stained skin. "I never wanted to hurt you. You know that, right?"

He memorized her face, every contour, every line—a desperate attempt to sear her into his memory. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw when he closed his eyes forever.

Studying her face, he committed every detail to memory. The curl of her eyelashes, the curve of her nose, the softness of her lips under his touch. His fingers moved delicately, tracing the path of her tears, the slope of her neck. He lingered on her pulse, feeling its steady rhythm.

He knew he was trying to capture her essence, to preserve every sensation so he'd never forget. He wished he could freeze time, keep this closeness for eternity.

She wept...

She memorized his face too, hands gently cradling his cheeks. They sat on the mahogany floor, sharing a moment of tender intimacy.

His eyes closed as her hands explored his face, feeling her warmth, her tenderness. He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a mix of pain and something deeper, unspoken. He struggled to contain his own fear and grief.

"I’ll never love again."

He grunted, pain seeping from his lips. Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her protectively. "Don't say that," he gruffly replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't."

“I’ll never love again if it’s not you.”

Pressing his lips to her hair, he breathed her in deeply. "You have to," he whispered, voice raw. "You have to move on. Find someone else, live your life. Don't waste it pining after me."

“No… you don’t understand!” She pounded on his chest.

He grunted as she struck him, holding her tightly. "Stop it," he commanded firmly, trying to restrain her, though she resisted.

Looking down at her, frustration and pain etched on his face, he pleaded, "Damn it, you have to listen to me. You can't give up on living because of me. I won't let you!"

"I love you... losing you would be killing me too!"

He clenched his jaw, her words slicing through him like a blade. "I know," he said, his voice hoarse. "I know, but you have to survive. You have to keep going. You can't just die with me."

"I’ll never love another. I can’t. I can’t."

He growled in frustration, his body tensing as he held her. "You have to. You have to try."

He saw the determination in her eyes—the unyielding refusal to even consider loving anyone else. He wanted to shake her, to make her understand, but he knew it would be futile. She was too strong-willed; too loyal; too damn stubborn.

She shook her head. "Then I’ll be your widow forever."

A strangled sound escaped him, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "Goddammit, you're driving me insane," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "You can't do that. You can't just spend the rest of your life mourning me. That's not fair to you."

"And even if I did try—I’d feel like I was cheating on you!"

"You can't think like that," he said, his voice hoarse. "You can't think that finding someone else is cheating on me. That's not how it works."

"I know you’d do the same. That if I die, you won’t love anyone else—you told me that! Why can’t I do the same?" Her voice was filled with frustration and pain.

He gritted his teeth, the truth of her words hitting him hard. He had told her that, and he had meant it. He wouldn't be able to love anyone else if she was gone. But the idea of her staying alone, mourning him for the rest of her life... it was unbearable.

"It's different for me," he said, his voice tight with emotion.

"How?"

He let out a heavy breath, struggling to find the words. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "It just is. I don't... I don't want you to be alone. I want you to be happy, to live your life, to find someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved."

Slap!

"You don’t tell me that—you don’t tell me to give up on you. You don’t tell me to forget you."

His head snapped to the side with the force of her slap. The sound echoed through the room, followed by a silence that was deafening.

He turned back to face her, his jaw clenched, a red mark starting to show on his cheek. "You're being ridiculous," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm not telling you to forget me. I'm telling you to carry on. To live your life."

"My life started the day I met you."

He closed his eyes, her words feeling like a punch to the gut. He knew that she was speaking the truth; their lives were inexorably intertwined—they had become each other's reason for existing.

He opened his eyes again, looking at her, his gaze intense and raw. "Don't make this harder than it already is," he said, his voice gruff. "Please."

"You're my husband... I can't just..."

He reached out, cupping her face gently in his hands. He looked at her, his eyes full of pain and turmoil. "You have to," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have to be strong, love."

"Please come back. I'll pray to the Lord every day..." she pleaded.

He clenched his jaw, his heart twisting at her words. He wanted nothing more than to promise her that he would come back, that he would survive and return to her. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't make false promises, not to her. He had to be honest, even if it hurt.

"Don't pray for me," he said, his voice hoarse. "Pray for yourself. Pray for a good life."

"And a good life is a life with you."

He clenched his jaw, his eyes shutting tight as her words hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew she was right; his presence in her life would bring her happiness and fulfillment. But he also knew that he couldn’t give her that. He couldn’t give her the life she deserved, the life they had both envisioned.

His hands tightened around her face, his grip gentle yet firm. "You need to let go," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You need to let me go."

"I WON'T! I WON'T! I WON'T!" She was screaming, her head shaking in every direction, tears falling like a relentless storm.

He pulled her gently towards him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly against his chest. Her screams and tears cut through him like a knife, each one a reminder of the pain he was causing her.

He buried his face in her hair, his breathing ragged. "Please," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "Please, don’t make this harder."

He held her, letting her cry and scream into his chest, his own heart breaking with every tear she shed. He wanted to comfort her, to take away her pain, but he knew there was nothing he could do.

He pressed his lips against her hair, his own eyes filling with tears. "You have to be strong," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "You have to be strong without me."

"I love you… more than anything… never doubt that."

He pulled back slightly, lifting her chin so that she was looking at him. His eyes searched hers, trying to commit her face to memory again.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice failed him. All he could do was look at her, his chest tightening with emotion. It was like looking at a piece of his soul, a part of himself that he would be leaving behind.

"I love you," he forced the words out, his voice thick with emotion. "More than life itself."

"I’ll wait for you."

He let out a shaky breath, his chest tightening at her words. Part of him wanted to believe that she would wait for him, that she would hold onto the hope that he would come back to her.

But another part of him knew that it was hopeless. The odds were stacked against him, and the likelihood of him surviving this mission was slim. He didn’t want her to waste her life waiting for him, hoping for something that would probably never happen.

"You can’t," he said, his voice rough. "You have to move on."

Her grip tightened on him; her voice was trembling. "I can't... I don't know how to live without you."

"You’ll learn," he whispered, his own tears falling now. "You’ll find a way. You’re stronger than you think."

"I don’t want to be strong," she cried, her voice breaking. "I want you."

He closed his eyes, the pain in his chest almost unbearable. "I know," he said softly. "I want you too... more than anything. But sometimes, wanting isn't enough."

She clung to him, her sobs wracking her body. He held her tightly, as if trying to hold onto every moment they had left.

"I’ll always be with you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "In your heart. In your memories."

"That’s not enough," she sobbed. "I need you here, with me."

"I know," he said, his own voice breaking. "I know. But you have to promise me... promise me you'll live. Promise me you'll try to be happy."

"Then I'll wait in death." She held her ground.

His eyes widened, a mix of shock and pain flitting through his gaze. He hadn't expected her to say that, to make such a declaration.

He gripped her wrists, his eyes fixated on her, a mixture of emotions warring inside him. He wanted to protest, to tell her that she was being ridiculous, that she shouldn't even think about such a thing. But deep down, a part of him also wanted to believe that this was how much she loved him.

"You can't..." he said, his voice strangled.

"I'll tell death I'll wait for you."

He clenched his jaw, his hands tightening around her wrists. He wanted to shake her, to make her understand the foolishness of her words, but he knew it would be futile.

Her conviction, the determination in her voice, it both filled him with a sense of pride and also terrified him. He didn’t want her to give up on her life for him, but her love and devotion were unwavering.

"Don’t say things like that," he croaked, his voice thick with emotion.

She was stubborn; if she wanted something—hell would freeze before she bent her will.

"Why? You don’t want to—"

He cut her off, his eyes flashing with anger and determination. "Of course I don't want to!" he snapped, his voice strained. "I don't want you to spend your life waiting for me, holding on to the hope that I'll come back. It's pointless, goddamnit."

Her face fell back—all that pain, despair, and agony in full display on her beautiful face.

He saw her face fall, saw the devastation etched on her features, and his heart broke. He knew he was causing her pain, that his words were cutting through her like a knife, but he couldn't stop.

"You don’t understand," he said, his voice rough. "You don’t understand what it means for me to leave you. To know that I might never come back. It’s not fair for me to ask you to wait for me."

"I AM YOUR WIFE! I swore to you—we swore to each other, to God, to everyone that we’d love each other through it all!"

His eyes flashed with emotion as she yelled at him, her words hitting him like a physical blow. Yes, they had promised each other, vowed to love each other through everything, through life and death.

But in that moment, it seemed like a cruel promise, a promise that he was breaking. He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her, to give her false hope that he would make it back to her.

He took her shoulders in his hands, his gaze intense and pained. "You think I don't know that?" he said, his voice hoarse. "You think I haven't spent every waking moment regretting the fact that I have to leave you behind? You think I don't wish things were different? That I'm not tearing myself apart with the thought of leaving you?"

He let out a heavy breath, his grip on her shoulders tightening. He needed her to understand, to see the turmoil he was going through, the struggle between love and duty. "But I have to do this," he said, his voice gruff. "I have to go, and I can’t ask you to wait for me. I can’t bear the thought of you spending your life in wait, in limbo, when you could be living it to the fullest."

"I will live, yes… but I’ll never… love… anyone again…" she kissed him deeply, pouring all her love into every kiss.

He kissed her back, his body responding to hers as it always did. The passion and intensity in their kiss spoke volumes of the love they had for each other—a love that was so deep it felt like an endless well.

But even as he kissed her, even as he allowed himself to get lost in the moment, he knew that he had to pull away. He had to bring them back to reality, to the painful truth that he was leaving her behind.

He forced himself to break the kiss, to pull away from her even as every fiber in his being screamed at him to hold her tighter. He looked at her, his eyes full of pain and love, and he knew he had to say what he needed to say.

"You're young," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You can't just give up on love because of me."

"You gave me forever, even if… it’s for a limited time. And… and I’ll hold onto that forever all my life."

He closed his eyes, her words cutting through him like a knife. He wanted to fight against her words, to tell her that she should move on, that she deserves more than just the memories of their time together.

But he also knew that it was futile, that her love and loyalty were unwavering. He had given her forever in the short time they had together, and she was going to hold onto that forever.

He opened his eyes again, looking at her, his heart in his throat. "You deserve more than that," he choked out, his voice rough.

He struggled with the words, wanting to say something, to make her understand. But everything he wanted to say seemed like a weak attempt at comfort. He took a deep breath, his hands still holding her shoulders.

"You're young and beautiful," he said, his voice gravelly. "You have your whole life ahead of you. There’s bound to be someone out there for you. Someone who can give you the life you deserve."

"Only you, Simon. Only you. Forever it’ll always be you."

5 months later. A knock.

She stumbled out of bed, her heart pounding in her chest as she staggered to the front door. She knew who it was; deep down she knew, and the thought both scared and excited her.

But when she opened the door—

The most agonizing, painful, piercing scream.

An older uniformed gentleman stood there, holding the UK flag and a pressed uniform.

The sight of him on her doorstep, holding that flag and uniform, sent a wave of dread and sorrow crashing through her. She knew what this meant; even before he spoke a word, she knew.

The scream that escaped her lips was primal, a guttural sound of grief and despair. She stumbled backward, her hand going to her mouth as tears streamed down her face.

The older gentleman had a sympathetic look on his face, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. He extended the flag towards her, his voice quiet as he spoke. "I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am."

She fell to her knees, the weight of his words crushing her. The world seemed to blur around her; the colors fading into a dull, lifeless grey. Her fingers trembled as they reached out to touch the flag, the symbol of his sacrifice; the finality of his absence.

Memories flooded her mind—his laugh, his touch, his whispered promises. She clung to the flag, her body shaking with sobs that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. Every moment they had shared, every kiss, every tear, every laugh—it all felt like a cruel reminder of what she had lost; what she would never get back.

The gentleman stood there silently, giving her the space to grieve; the space to process the unbearable reality. She looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes, searching for some sign that this was a mistake; that this wasn't happening. But his solemn expression told her everything she needed to know.

"How?" she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did he...?"

"He was brave," the gentleman said softly. "He saved us all. He was a hero."

Hero. The word felt hollow; meaningless. He was her hero, but that didn’t bring him back. It didn’t fill the gaping hole in her heart; the emptiness that he left her. It didn’t mean fucking shit if he was a hero. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here with her. No amount of compensation, medal of valor could bring him back.

She clutched the flag tighter, her fingers digging into the fabric as if she could somehow pull him back through sheer force of will. The older gentleman remained silent, his presence a stark reminder of the finality of it all.  

She wanted to scream, to rage against the universe for taking him away from her; to demand answers from a god who seemed indifferent to her suffering. But no answers came. The universe remained silent; her questions echoing into the void. She stood there, clutching the flag, feeling the weight of her grief pressing down on her; a suffocating blanket she couldn’t escape.

“And i’ll wait in death.”

[junkissed]

on the nose

member — minghao x f reader  genre — smut, fluffy ending word count — 6.2k synopsis — you're too shy to be on the nose about what you want. luckily, minghao's got you figured out... he even likes the fluffy tail, too. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, established relationship, nicknames (bunny, baby, love, honey, good girl, etc), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, pet play, lingerie (bunny costume), teasing, begging, anal plug, oral (f receiving), not quite ass eating but close to it, breeding kink, creampie, filming during sex, praise, little bit of manhandling, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, biting, marking, squirting, generally rough and messy sex, and then it does a total 180 and it becomes really soft and gentle i'm sorry i can't help it this happens every time it's just who i am, pls lmk if i missed any there's a lot nksdjfsfh notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks so much to @onlymingyus and @highvern for helping me brainstorm <3 this was a challenge to write tbh but i'm glad i decided to finish it. if you enjoyed and want to see more like this please lmk how you liked it with an ask or a reblog! i always want to try new different things and feedback on this would be super appreciated :)) hope you enjoy this my slutty little bunnies mwah xoxo

you've been waiting for this day for weeks.

“hi baby,” minghao says warmly as you walk inside the house and slip your shoes off, setting your bag on the chair by the door. he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for a kiss before he turns his attention back to the boiling soup on the stove. “there was a package for you when i got home.” he nods his head towards the living room. “it’s on the table.”

“ooh, it’s my new hat!” you squeal and race across the room. “it's finally here!” you tear into the plastic like a wild animal, taking it out of the package and holding it up to show him.

it’s a knitted white beanie with white floppy ears hanging down from the sides of the hat. you pull it on over your hair, repositioning it so that the long fabric dangles at your shoulders. “what do you think?”

“you look so cute, baby. i love it.” he grins and moves closer to kiss you again. “though you know i’ll love anything you wear.”

you scrunch your nose at his reaction, but minghao must mistake the disappointment on your face for joy, because he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose before letting go of you and moving back towards the stove. “dinner will be ready in a bit, love. i’ll let you know when it’s on the table.”

you take off the beanie with a soft sigh and fold it up as you walk to your bedroom, not wanting to get it dirty before you’ve even had a chance to wear it anywhere. it's unreasonable to think he'd get it immediately, you know that, but you can't help but wish he'd have been just a little bit more excited at the sight of your bunny ears.

the soup is already done and minghao is waiting patiently once you come back out of your room changed into your pajamas, and by the time he’s got you pinned beneath him in bed later that night drawing pretty little moans from your lips, your bunny fantasies are the furthest thing from your mind. laying on your side as you listen to his gentle snores, you sigh and close your eyes, leaving it be. for now.

you wait a couple days before you try again.

“have you thought about what you’re gonna be for halloween?”

minghao looks up from his laptop sitting next to you in bed. “not really,” he chuckles. “it’s only april. why, did you have something in mind?”

you purse your lips, trying to seem casual. “i was thinking of being a playboy bunny. don’t you think that’d be cute?”

“mm… cute isn’t the first word that comes to mind,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. something flashes across his eyes and you hold your breath, hoping for the reaction you want this time. “we can look for costumes closer to october, yeah?”

you start to frown at his answer but quickly catch yourself, hiding your dismay with a smile. “good idea. hey, i’m gonna take a quick shower before bed, m’kay?”

he nods, and you lean over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before standing up.

but this time he doesn’t miss the way your expression falls, his brows furrowed as you walk out of the room and close the bathroom door with a quiet click. he knows there’s something you want, something you’re not happy with, but sometimes it’s so hard to get you to tell him what’s on your mind.

he closes his laptop and sets it aside on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest in thought as he hears the shower water start to run. if all you’re willing to do for now is drop hints, then he’s just gonna have to start paying better attention until you feel like opening up. he’s not exactly a mind reader, but he’s figured you out before and he’ll do it again.

the next time it comes up, you don't even mean for it to happen.

you're walking through the mall, hand in hand as you stroll past boutiques and shops. something in one of the windows catches your eyes, and you tug on minghao's hand to go inside. he follows your gaze to the display of frilly white dresses, the wire rack wrapped with pastel garlands for their spring sale.

a sales lady with a cheap rabbit ear headband walks over and greets you with a smile, quickly launching into a memorized script about new items and clearance sales. you subconsciously squeeze minghao's hand and he pauses to watch the way you look at the woman as she talks, trying to see what you're looking at.

and then he notices something, and things start to click into place. you say something to the woman that he doesn't hear before she nods and walks away, and he sees your gaze lingering on the little cottontail tied to the belt loop of her jeans, bouncing with each step.

“you like these?” he asks curiously, running his hand over one of the dresses you'd been eyeing earlier.

“hm?” you ask absently and whip your head back around, your attention clearly drawn elsewhere. “oh, yeah. they're cute.”

well, he may not be a mind reader, but he has a hunch that the reason you wanted to come in this store wasn't to look at the clothes.

he has the chance to put his theory to the test later that night when you're straddling his lap, hands gripping your ass as he pulls you up and down along his cock.

he decides to try it, under the guise of dirty talk in the heat of the moment, and he's so casual about it you'd never suspect a thing. it already doesn't take much to get you fucked out in his arms, so when he slips it in between curses and moans you'd never be able to guess that he's been thinking about this all afternoon.

he groans as you grind down against him, waiting for the perfect opportunity. “bouncing on me so good, like a little bunny,” he says, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that makes you fall forward onto his chest.

like a magic word you instantly clench around him, whimpering loudly as your hips stutter and fall out of rhythm with him. he sees your eyes squeeze shut as you struggle to keep going, blatantly ignoring his words and pretending they don't affect you like he knows they do.

he lets himself grin at your reaction and thrusts up into you again, making you whine again as the tip of his cock presses into the spot that has you falling apart for him.

“hao! fuck, fuck, i'm—” you barely have time to moan out a warning before you're cumming, your body trembling against him from the strength of it as you gasp for air.

when you finally come back down he does everything he usually does, nothing out of the ordinary. he kisses your forehead and cleans you up and tucks you into bed beside him. he files this new little piece of information away for later and doesn't bring it up again.

for a while you start to think it was probably just an accident, a slip of the tongue when he wasn't thinking. he says a lot of things when he's inside you; he doesn't always have to mean them. but you should know better by now not to underestimate your boyfriend when he's got an idea in his head.

days go by and both of you pretend like it never happened; you because you're embarrassed at how much it affects you, and minghao because he has bigger plans up his sleeve.

everything seems perfectly normal until one evening when you come home from work and he's waiting for you at the door, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you step inside.

"hey, baby,” he smiles, his hands resting on your waist. “got a present for you."

your cheeks warm. "but it's not my birthday or anything?" it's not uncommon for him to spoil you with gifts, but he never makes a show of it. he just hands you things like you've owned them all your life, little surprises popping up without explanation like the necklace with your birthstone on it or the box of chocolates he'd known you were craving.

"it doesn't need to be. just something special i want you to have." he runs his hand over your forehead, tucking a strand of hair gently behind your ear. "it's in the bedroom, if you wanna go take a look.”

you give him a suspicious look and pull away, slipping your shoes off and leaving him by himself. he doesn't follow you down the hall, just standing in place and folding his arms with a satisfied grin once he hears squeals coming from the bedroom.

the house goes silent for a moment, and then he sees you poke your head out into the hall. “minghao?”

“yes, baby?” he grins teasingly as he leaves the living room, meeting you in the bedroom where he finds you standing next to the bed. you raise an eyebrow at him and point at the pretty white lingerie set he'd laid out for you. 

the thin lace stands out laying atop the dark bedsheets, accompanied by a pair of fluffy white wrist cuffs and a headband with soft floppy ears similar to the one worn by the lady at the store the other day but clearly much higher quality; maybe even custom or handmade. the finishing touch is a thin, white leather collar with a bow, and he can't help but smile as he surveys his layout.

“what is this?” you draw his attention away from the setup, and though your tone sounds accusing he can tell how secretly thrilled you are despite the way you try to downplay it. 

“i told you,” he smirks. “a present.”

now it's your turn to cross your arms at him. “and why is it here?”

“because i thought you'd like it,” he says in a low voice, moving closer to you. “don't you wanna be my little bunny?”

you yelp in surprise but then sigh, finally giving in. “how'd you figure it out?”

“you're easier to read than you think, my love,” he chuckles. “i know you too well.”

“you don't… hate it?” you ask shyly, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

he wraps his arms around you again. “of course not. you know you could've just asked me, right?”

you scrunch your nose and pout. “i was nervous you wouldn't want to. or you'd think it's stupid.”

“you know i'd do anything you want, love. it's not stupid to me.” he leans over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “now, will you get changed for me? i can't wait to see my cute little honey bunny all dressed up.”

with a reluctant but excited squeal you push him out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him so that the reveal will be a surprise. minghao grins at the way you try to hide your enthusiasm, leaning against the doorway as he waits patiently.

finally you open the door just a crack and poke your head out, hiding your body behind it nervously. “ready?” you ask.

he nods, and with a deep breath you pull the door open all the way. you give him a little spin, the ears flopping against your hair as you show off the outfit. he smiles proudly as he joins you in the room, his fingers falling to your waist and backing you up against the bed.

“you look adorable, baby. just like i imagined,” he says in a husky voice, and you bite your lip shyly. “do you like it?”

you smile, and it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. he'd buy you a million outfits and lingerie sets if it means he gets to see you like this every day. “i love it, hao. it's perfect.”

he sits down next to you at the edge of the bed and lifts his hand to pet your head, smoothing down your hair between the ears. you shiver in excitement, and it only makes him more eager to get started, his pants growing tighter every minute.

“i have one more present for you, mkay?” he leans away from the bed and pulls out an object from the dresser drawer. your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is, a shiny silver plug with a round little white tail at the end that makes your heart race. “can’t be a bunny without a tail.”

you bite your lip and look at him, and he puts his hand on your thigh when you don't respond verbally. “is that okay?” he says gently, but your quick nod reassures him.

he stands up from the bed and quickly strips off his clothes, and you watch with lustful eyes as his cock slaps against his stomach, almost drooling at the sight. once he's ready you let him flip you over, kneeling down on your hands and knees with your ass readily pushed up in the air. he slips a finger under the seat of your panties, pulling them carefully to the side as he reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand beside the bed.

you shiver as he pours the cool liquid over your ass before rubbing the toy against you to coat it. once he's satisfied with it he starts to drag the metal upwards, and you jump involuntarily as he presses the end of the plug against your hole. “mm— it’s cold,” you whine as he teases you with it once more before pulling it away.

“but it won’t be for long.” he chuckles at your reaction and rubs his free hand across your lower back soothingly, and you lean your hips into his touch. with a grin he bends down and presses his lips gently against your ass cheek, and you moan when his teeth graze your skin. “just relax for me, baby, that’s it…”

he begins easing the toy past your entrance, just a little bit at a time until it's fully enveloped inside you. you've played with plugs before, but somehow the stretch is like nothing you've ever felt. knowing that this time you've got a cute little bunny tail attached sends a new wave of desire throughout your body.

with one finger he carefully pulls your panties back into place to cover you up, admiring the fluffy tail that protrudes from your hole. it really does complete the outfit, and he smiles at his own thoughtfulness, proud of his handiwork.

you wiggle your hips to test it out, adjusting to the feeling of its weight stuffed inside of you. minghao's hand comes down hard on your ass and you yelp, bucking away from him in surprise. immediately you feel his hand gently touch your stinging cheek, rubbing small circles to massage the pain away. "fuck— sorry. don't know what came over me." he says, voice gravelly. "you just… you look so fucking good right now, baby. you make such a cute bunny."

your face flushes as the initial shock fades, and you push your hips back towards him encouragingly. "it's okay. you can do it again, if—if you want."

he grips your waist and pulls you against him, and you whine as you feel his hard length grinding into your ass. "if i'd known you'd like that, then i would have bought the matching paddle with the ears and the tail too," he groans. "this is why you gotta speak up, baby. gotta tell me what you want so i can give it to you."

you bite your lip and bury your face into the pillow, ears burning in embarrassment, but you quickly lift your head again when you feel his hand leave another sharp smack on your ass. "mm, mm, don't hide from me now, love." he tsks in disappointment, his voice laced with fake sympathy. "you wanna be an obedient little bunny for me, don't you? well-behaved bunnies get rewarded." 

you start to answer, but he runs his cock against your clothed pussy and your head falls back down into the pillow instinctively, letting out a muffled string of moans. his tip teases you, pushing the lace into your wetness and back out again. "what was that, baby? i couldn't hear you."

you scrunch your nose and raise your voice, though it still only comes out as powerful as a squeak. "i said, i'll be good!"

he grins and squeezes your ass with both hands before he pulls your panties off all the way, tugging them down your legs until the thin fabric bunches up at your knees. he drags his cock over your dripping entrance again as you clench around nothing.

“hao,” you whine softly. you tilt your hips backwards to try and push him inside, but he leans back out of your reach. 

“be patient.” he runs his hands along the curve of your ass, bending down to come face to face with your aching cunt. “think i’ll eat this pretty pussy first instead. is that what you want, hm? give me a nice view of your cute little bunny tail while i make you cum all over my tongue?”

you whimper in reply, hiding your face in embarrassment as you lay on your stomach with your ass pushed into the air, proudly displaying your glistening arousal.

with his hands on either side of your hips he pulls you towards his waiting mouth. you gasp into a moan when his lips latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot as his nose prods against your entrance.

he presses his tongue flat against you, licking upwards before pulling away. it was happening so fast, too fast, and you wanted more. you needed more. but you should’ve known better than to think he would give you what you want that easily.

“feels good?” he hums, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“please, hao,” you moan. “need you. please, i’ll be good. just don’t stop.”

he scoffs lightly, his face next to your cunt but still too far away for your liking. “and why should i do that? are you gonna behave next time and tell me when you want something?”

“mhm,” you nod weakly. “i will. promise. please, minghao—”

“that’s my good girl. now just let me take care of you, hm?” he presses his lips against your ass in a kiss and you whimper when he begins sucking, hard enough that you know it’ll leave a bruise later. once he’s satisfied he sits back up to his knees, reaching over to pat your head between the ears of your headband. “don’t you worry your fuzzy little head about a thing.”

you let out another moan at his words, relishing in the way he talks about you. it gets you going more than you could’ve ever imagined, and you love him for the way he’s embraced this so wholeheartedly, falling into the role so easily that you’re cursing yourself for ever trying to hide.

he slides back down behind you, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart to give him easier access as he pushes his tongue into you. you can feel yourself growing wetter every second that passes, coating his lips with your slick as he eats you out like a starving man.

he directs his attention away from your clit, tracing his tongue up until it reaches the underside of your tail and the tip of the plug poking out. just like he’d predicted the metal is warm now, heated by the warmth radiating from your holes.

he smooths his hands over your cheeks, kneading them with his slender fingers and pushing you back further into his face. his tongue darts out to lick around the edges of the toy in your ass, and you can’t help but squirm in his grasp as his mouth wanders between your legs, briefly moving back down to suck at your clit before licking upwards again.

your thighs tremble, feeling so much stimulation in ways you'd never knew possible. he traces his tongue over your pussy, dipping into your entrance before he sits back on his knees. 

“you think you deserve to cum now?” he says, and even though you're facedown in the mattress you can still hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “has my little honey bunny earned it, do you think you've been a good girl?”

you're so fucked out already you can barely speak, but you know he wants you to beg him before he'll actually do anything. so you collect yourself and twist your head to look over your shoulder, bunny ears flopping against your back and the most pleading expression you can muster. “mhm… please? been such a good bunny for you.” you prove your point by wiggling your hips, shaking the little tail plug that sticks out of your ass back and forth.

he groans, hands squeezing your waist tighter. he can tell how much you wanted this, how much you're enjoying this, and who is he to deny you any longer when you've been so well behaved? “mm, alright.” he leans down over your back to kiss your shoulder, brushing your hair and your floppy ears out of the way. “gonna let you cum on my cock now, is that what my baby bunny wants?”

you nod eagerly and let out a yip as he finally sinks into you. you swear you've never felt this good in your life as he starts to fill you up, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.

“so fucking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth when he finally bottoms out, his cock buried in your heat. “clenching so hard, i can barely move.”

“minghao—” you plead out his name, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock but his grip on your hips is too strong to let you have even a little bit of control.

he stays still for a minute to give you time to adjust, but that doesn't stop him from playing with your tail and tracing his fingers teasingly along your lower back, relishing in the way it makes you shiver and moan his name louder.

finally when neither you nor him can take it anymore, he starts to slide out of you, groaning at the way his shaft is already coated in your slick. he's not sure you've ever been this wet for him before— and you haven't even cum yet.

it doesn't take long for him to build up his pace, propelled by the sight of your cute little tail bouncing with each deep stroke. he spreads your cheeks apart to watch the spot where his length disappears inside you and groans, an idea hitting him as he digs his fingertips into your hips. “fuck, baby— want me to video this? you look so fucking good taking my cock, wanna let you see yourself.”

your walls clench around him faster than your lips can whimper out a “yes”. god, the thought that later you'll get to watch yourself, kneeling on the bed in your pretty lingerie getting fucked like the slutty little bunny you've always wanted to be? it's your biggest dream come true.

he gradually slows down his pace so he can reach over and grab his phone off the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the buttons to start the recording. he shifts his phone into one hand and uses his other to push down on your lower back, forcing you to arch up more for him. 

his long fingers wrap around your side as he starts to thrust into you again, pulling you backwards to meet his cock with each stroke as he builds back up to a brutal pace. he holds the camera up by his chin to make sure he captures a full view of the scene, your pretty ass pushed into the air as a constant stream of whimpers and whines escapes you.

“look at my pretty bunny,” he pants out, squeezing your hip even harder as he fucks into you, knowing everything he says will be immortalized for your pleasure when you watch this together later. “look at you. so good for me, aren’t you?”

you moan out something unintelligible that sounds like a yes, and he rewards you by fucking you harder. he grins and moves his phone closer to your ass to get a better view of your pussy, close enough to see the glint of metal poking out and the way your muscles contract around both it and him with every thrust.

his eyes rake over your body, occasionally glancing at his phone screen to check the video. after a minute he stops the video and tosses his phone aside, quickly moving both hands back to grip your hips so he has more leverage to plunge into you more deeply. your arms give out from the force and you fall forward against the bed, whimpers muffled by the sheets that you grip so tightly to stay grounded to.

one of his hands suddenly leaves your hips and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair, gasping as he jerks your head up again.

“c’mon, baby,” he says, winding his hand around your hair until it tugs your scalp. it burns but it feels so good, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls on you. “you’ve been so good for me, don’t ruin it now. you can take it. isn’t that right, bunny?”

“fuck,” you whimper as you strain your neck backwards, your tits pushed against the lacy front of your lingerie as you arch your back. “i can—i can take it. please… please.”

his other hand slides up your stomach, pulling you to sit upright with your back against his chest. if it weren’t for minghao’s grip on you, you doubt you’d have even been able to hold your head up on your own, let alone the rest of your body; his forearm wraps around your chest, holding you flush against his body. you swear he’s never fucked you this hard before in your life, slamming his hips into you so hard you already know you’ll be feeling this for days afterwards, his pace never tiring.

minghao is good at giving you what you want, but you’ve always been able to retain at least a little bit of control even in your most fucked out state. but tonight your head is reeling, mouth hanging open with not a single coherent thought running through your mind. maybe it’s the thrill of being “caught”, of him finally figuring out your secret fantasy and letting you play into it.

your first orgasm catches you off guard, overtaking you with no warning. you double over in minghao’s arms as you writhe against him, clenching so hard that even he can’t keep up the pace. his hips stutter as he struggles to continue thrusting, barely managing to even stay inside of you as your muscles contract and try to force his cock out from your pulsing walls.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” he breathes in a low voice against your ear, holding you tighter to keep you in place. “such a good bunny, cumming all over my cock.”

“cu—cumming!” you manage, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave slams into you.

he curses under his breath as he snakes his hand down the front of your body to toy with your clit. “fuck— that’s it, baby. let me have it, give me more. such a good girl.”

you lean your head back against his shoulder with another broken moan, all the tension suddenly leaving your body in a rush. the bed is soaked, his thighs are soaked, your pussy is soaked, but you can't stop. his fingers don't stop either, rubbing fast circles on your clit as you squirt.

after what seems like an eternity of cumming you claw at his fingers on your clit, weakly trying to pull his hand away. “h-hao,” you moan, your voice cracking. “wait. stop—”

his grip on your body loosens and he moves his hand before pulling out of you slowly, his cock still hard and aching and his heart pounding with adrenaline. immediately his tone is softer, keeping his voice quiet beside your ear despite his heavy breathing. “what is it, love, what do you need? can you tell me?”

you lean your head back to rest against his shoulder, your body shaking as you try to catch your breath. it’s hard. you can barely think straight from so much stimulation all at once, your head still cloudy from such intense orgasms back to back, and it takes a long few seconds before you can string together your thoughts. “just… need to slow down.” you find his hand on your thigh and squeeze his fingers with all the strength you can muster. “but don’t wanna stop.”

he exhales and turns his head to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. “okay, sweetheart. just let me know. i’m here.”

he knows he was getting a little carried away, but he wasn’t expecting this to get him so riled up. even after he’d figured you out and put his plan into motion he hadn’t once thought about how he felt, so focused on making sure you’d be happy with him.

he’d spent hours online looking for the perfect outfit for you, pretty lingerie that would be comfortable yet still make you feel as beautiful and sexy as you are to him. if only he hadn’t wanted it to be a surprise, because he kind of wishes you’d been able to see the grin on his face when he’d picked out the cutest little tail and ears to match.

he never considered how much he’d enjoy seeing you in the outfit, maybe even more than you, the lace hugging your body as you whimper and whine so cutely for him. if anything, he knows he's definitely going to get his money's worth out of your pretty costume set, because he's already planning out in his mind the next time you'll get to do this together.

you hum his name softly and it brings him out of his head, looking down at your hazy expression. this is still sort of new to him, but he’ll figure out how to handle it. he’s good at that.

“do you wanna lay down?” he asks, fingers tracing up and down your sides and gently toying with the fabric of your bra as he holds you against his body.

you hum in agreement and turn over in his arms, letting him slowly guide you onto your back as he hovers on his hands and knees above you.

you tug at your ears headband and toss it away, and instinctively his hands begin smoothing over your hair to carefully massage your scalp. “uncomfy?” he asks as your eyes flutter shut, a sweet smile on your face at his soothing touch.

“after a while, yeah,” you say softly, leaning your head into his fingertips. you open your eyes slowly, finding his face just inches above yours. “i’m still your bunny?” you ask a little shyly, watching his gaze.

he smiles and leans up to kiss your nose, a habit of his that now means so much more. “mhm. cutest bunny i’ve ever met. and she’s all mine.”

you can feel his throbbing cock resting atop your stomach, and you sigh out his name, reaching up to pull him down to meet your lips. “minghao…” you lift your hips a little, whimpering quietly in response when he groans from the pressure.

“ready to go again?” he breathes, and at your nod he positions his cock back at your entrance, pushing in slowly. the stretch is easy this time and it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out again, bending over you to leave kisses all over your face as you readjust to him. 

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, whining softly as you squeeze his bicep to try to get him to move. even just having him completely still inside of you feels incredible, but you're eager for more, almost insatiable for him. you don't want this to end just yet.

“god—” he chokes out, thrusting once into you so deep that it makes your head spin. “i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that. not gonna last much longer.”

maybe he’s delirious from so much in one night, but minghao swears you clench harder when he says that. you shake your head, trying to pull him even closer. “don’t care. just want you to fill me up, please?”

he lets out another groan, long and low as he pushes his hips in and out in a slow but steady rhythm. “oh, is that what you want? you want me to breed you? pretty bunny wants to be full of my cum?”

between his dirty talk and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, your mind goes blank, and all you can manage is a squeak and a nod and a prayer that he’ll figure it out, how badly you want him to do exactly that. despite everything he’s already given you tonight, you’re absolutely desperate for it, and if you could recall words and sentences right now you would’ve started begging him like your life depended on it.

luckily for you he knows you just as well as he says he does, because he adjusts his hips and thrusts deeper into you, his cock angled upwards to hit you just right with every stroke as filthy words spill from his lips.

“gonna fuck you so full,” he huffs, and you stare wide eyed at the sweat dripping down his cheekbones as he pounds you into the mattress. “taking it so well, gonna breed you like my bunny deserves, stuff you so full. my pretty little bunny, always so desperate for me…”

he doesn't stop, his words beginning to ramble as he focuses all his energy on thinking about your pretty eyes and the sweet, fucked out look on your face that he knows you always get when he cums inside of you because he knows how much you love it.

“please… please,” you whimper, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders so tight, and you know he's right at the edge. each stroke fills you completely, and the pressure from both his cock and the plug still inside you makes you dizzy with pleasure.

minghao buries his face in your collarbone, biting down to muffle his groans as he cums. your own mouth falls open in a gasp as you feel his cock jerk against your walls, pulsing with each thick rope of cum he releases inside. his breath catches in his throat and forces his cock deeper, his pelvis firmly pressed against yours as far in as he can possibly go. 

with shaky hands and even shakier breaths, you wrap your arms around him and hold his head against your chest, your heart still racing as you come down together. he doesn't try to pull out yet, laying down on top of you and letting his weight cover you. you whimper softly as you feel his cum seeping out of you, running down the backs of your thighs. 

after a minute he sighs, looking up at you to make sure you're still okay. “was that alright?” he asks, but your lazy grin tells him all he needs to know.

“love, hey.” he tilts your chin to make you look at him, brushing his thumb against your cheek to make sure you're paying attention. “promise me one thing. next time, just tell me if there's something you wanna try. okay?” he says. his tone is still quiet and gentle, but you can tell he's serious. 

as fun as it is to play this game, he'd much rather you just come to him and talk about it, even if you think it's silly or stupid. he knows it's hard to talk about things you want, but he feels comfortable enough to tell you anything and he hopes one day you'll feel the same, without him having to pry.

“mhm,” you hum sincerely, smiling in contentment at the soft feeling of his fingers on your skin. “i will.”

despite your mumbled voice he can tell you're being genuine with him, and he rewards you with a gentle kiss.

you giggle and run your fingers through his hair, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling that radiates both inside and out. “so… next time you're gonna wear the outfit, right?”

he laughs and kisses you again, happy that you seem so satisfied after everything. “well, that depends on whether or not you've been a good bunny.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

[themultifanshipper]

As soon as you saw the time go to 0 during a yellow flag and Lando in p16, peeling into the pits after an aborted lap, you knew exactly what was about to happen.

Yes I forgot to post this and it's too weeks late SUE ME

Warnings: Lando being an annoying whiny self deprecating little bitch, handjob, edging, crying

Part 4 of 'One of the Boys'

You were already in his driver’s room when he came in, tears in his eyes and in need of some company.

None of it was his fault obviously, but he still felt the need to berate himself.

“It's all my fault”

“I should have gone out earlier”

“I should have skipped the out lap”

“I should have b-“

You listened to him beat himself up for over 20 fucking minutes before you decided to stop him.

“None of it is your fault La-“

But he just kept talking over you and his voice was getting wobblier with each sentence.

“Lando”

He just kept going, and going, completely ignoring you, and you actually got angry.

So you slapped him across the face.

That got his attention.

It wasn't hard enough to really hurt but he would definitely feel the sting, and he brought his hand up to feel his cheek as his jaw dropped.

His breathing was becoming shallow and his pupils were rapidly taking over the gray of his irises.

A tear rolled down his cheek and he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Again”

So you did. Slightly harder this time, on the other cheek.

He gulped in a breath, a few more tears escaping.

Your hands came up to cup his face and he whimpered pitifully.

“Please”

It broke your heart to see him like this, but he was so beautiful, face all flushed and wet.

“I'm here for you Lan, what do you need?”

He closed his eyes and nuzzled into your palm, letting out the first calm breath since he'd got out of his car.

“I don't know... I just want to forget today ever happened.”

You leaned over and gently pressed your lips to his forehead.

“I've got you, just focus on me, okay?”

He looked at you and nodded.

You took the liberty of climbing onto his lap, unzipping his suit and sliding a hand inside his underwear to find that he was already hard.

“Damn... you really like being roughed up don't you?”

You tightened your grip on him and he whimpered, biting his lip raw and leaning his head back on the sofa.

“please” he groaned.

You chuckled and planted a kiss under his jaw bone. “Please what?”

You sped up your movements, brushing your thumb over his tip on every upstroke and he gasped.

His thighs clenched and unclenched and he soon started trembling uncontrollably.

“Please don't stop. I'm so close”

You pulled the neckline of his fireproofs down to nibble on the skin at the base of his neck and his hips bucked up involuntarily.

“Now then Lando, tell me about your qualifying”

He frowned.

“What do you mean? I fucked up and- Ahh!”

Your grip was tight around the base of his cock and he yelped, head snapping up to look at you with wide eyes.

“No! What-“

“You answered wrong, Lando”

Once he had stopped pulsing in your hand you resumed your movements, immediately going fast and hard, trying to draw him to the edge as quickly as possible.  

“I- I- Oh my god! I don't know what you want me to say!”

“Yes you do Lando, tell me what happened and I'll let you come” you purred, distracting him with kisses along his jawline.

“I didn't-  fuck, I didn't have time to finish the lap...” he started, voice shaking with need. “b- before the yellow flag”

“Mmh, and who's fault was that, Lando?”

He let out little puffs of breath every time you flicked your wrist, letting you know he was close to the edge again, but you knew he was still beating himself up, so you stopped again and squeezed the base of his cock just as he was about to come.

He wailed and almost managed to dislodge you with how he was squirming in pain, but you refused to let him come until he admitted none of it was his fault.

A few tears streamed down his cheeks and he sobbed openly, in the safe space between you two.

He calmed down a bit and you resumed, paying special attention to his sensitive head, and he bucked up into your hold once again.

“Answer me Lando, who's fault was it that you got sent out too late? Who's fault was the yellow flag? Was it your fault?”

He was clenching his entire body in an effort to keep himself together enough to answer.

“No! It wasn't my fault! There's nothing- ah! Nothing I could have done!”

You smiled at him, cupping his face again with your unoccupied hand.

“Good boy, Lando. You're right” you wiped the stray tears away and kissed him sweetly.

 “there's nothing you could have done, you just got caught out by a yellow flag. Now you can come”

His back arched and he let out a painful wail as it all came crashing down, the tension and stress melting away.

He came so much it stained his fireproofs all the way up to the neckline, and dripped down your hand to irretrievably dampen his suit so that there was a big dark patch.

You slowed the movement of your hand and eventually let go of him, wiping your cum streaked hand on his suit.

You kissed him and his hands came to rest on your hips, squeezing affectionately.

“Thank you” he said as you separated, closing his eyes and basking in the afterglow.

“Anytime” you giggled, climbing off him and looking for your bag, checking your phone.

“Now go celebrate with your team, Oscar got p2 and he'll be devastated if you’re not there” you scolded, voice laced with humour as he looked at you through his lashes and groaned.

“I don't think I can walk after that, and I'm not going to be able to drive tomorrow!” he pouted. “Not that it would make a difference if I did...”

“I'll tell you what” you said, hanging back in the open doorway “If you end up higher than p5 tomorrow, you can have me after the race”

Lando laughed “Deal”

That was never going to happen, but a man could dream, right?

[enwoso]

Could we pls have more sunshine/Grumpy reader I love x child reader. Maybe reader is sick and alessia brings her to training just thinking she’s not feeling too well but she starts being sick and alessia is stressed out but it’s just fluff with all of the girls

SICK BUG — alessia russo x child!reader

*part of the grumpy/sunshine universe once again<3*

grumpy masterlist

today was the conti-cup final in wolverhampton, arsenal v chelsea and alessia would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. this was her first chance of silverware since joining arsenal this season. and she would love nothing more than to lift that trophy at the end of today.

but she also had someone who she had to worry about more which was at the end of the day a lot more important than the cup trophy, that being you.

for the past few days you had been poorly, alessia was hoping that you were going to be feeling better however it was probably the opposite. last night had been a particular rough night as you had been awake for most of it. as if you weren't crying cause you were too hot or too cold, you were crying cause you were coughing and spluttering your lungs up.

alessia spent most of the night drawing shapes on your bare back trying to get you to get at least some sleep along with herself before you would wake up again. the blonde was sure she only got an hour and half of uninterrupted sleep.

when the sun did finally come up, and it was time to get up - you refused covering your face with your blanket, your mum having to carry you down the stairs and sit you on the couch giving you some breakfast which you just nibbled at.

clinging to your mum as she tried to get ready in the short amount of time she had, just before leaving alessia gave you some medicine which was a battle in itself.

"lovie, open your mouth please" your mummy pleaded, as you moved your mouth away from the pink liquid on the spoon, "it'll make you better!"

"no, it taste yucky" you whined, pushing your mums hand away from your mouth making sure that you kept your mouth sealed shut.

a few pleads later and with a bit of a bribe that your mum would let you pick a new toy, you finally caved and had the yucky pink medicine. pulling a disgusting face as the spoon entered your mouth.

the medicine did the trick and eased your illness as well as making you sleepy, as before your mum even had a chance to get you ready for the day you had fallen asleep on the couch — the cartoons playing in the background.

alessia managed to get ready and get onto the arsenal coach that was taking the team to the stadium all with you still asleep.

"a bit early for her afternoon nap is it not?" kyra teased, as alessia huffed sitting down placing your backpack along with her own on the floor.

“don’t kyra”

normally alessia would have laughed or had some remark to the comment but instead it was met with a grumble and a shake of the head as she dragged her hands steph smacking the young australian on the shoulder her as she grumbled holding her shoulder.

"i take it she's still not feeling very well?" steph asked cautiously as alessia hummed shaking her head, as she looked at the two australian who were sitting in front of her.

"no, i think last night was her worst night - she slept a solid two hours" alessia commented, looking towards you moving the blanket from your upper body as your cheeks where starting to go red knowing that if you weren't cooled down you would wake up crying cause you were too hot.

"oh less, are you not tired?" steph said slightly worried for the blonde considering she was going to be playing football soon, not wanting the girl to be overly tired.

alessia hummed, "and then my mum was supposed to be coming to watch her while the games on but her stupid trains been cancelled so she can't even get here!"

"well i'm sure one of the girls who aren't starting won't mind watching her, she's not a bother" steph smiled as for the first time today so did alessia, thanking the girl as you both fell into a bit of small talk.

however you interrupted the conversation, small cries coming from you for "mummy" identical to the ones that alessia heard this morning.

the blonde picking you up from where you were laying on the coach seat, leaving your blanket where it was as you were beginning to burn up as alessia soothed you by rubbing up and down your back as your cries quieted down. your head tucked into your mummy's chest.

the coach stopping a few moments after, alessia knew you were not asleep as you were still twirling the ends of your hair in your fingers an action you did when you were trying to go to sleep.

“lovie? you gonna get down so we can get off the coach?” alessia said, not really asking you more telling you as she peeled you from her chest, placing you on the floor as a few complaints came from you.

“come on the lovie” your mummy said softly holding out her hand for you to hold, her other arm holding her big pink bag which had both everything you needed but also everything she needed.

“where everyone?” you asked, the rest of the team already gotten off the bus, you and your mummy being the last ones off. at you neared the front of the bus, you heard mummy said thank you to the driver before helping you down the steep stairs.

you jumping off the last step, a small smile finding your lips as you walked in front of your mum her telling you which way to go.

“you have a nice nap?” mummy asked as you nodded, “yes, i had a dream” you said so innocently, your mums eyes widening intrigued on what it could have been.

“you had a dream? what did lovie dream about?” mummy cooed, as you giggled a little pausing as you hummed thinking of your dream. “having a pet unicorn when i older” you admitted, walking the corridors of the molineux stadium.

your mummy chuckled a little at your dream, as you continued to tell her about the fantasy of your dream, how you lived with your unicorn in a big candy land.

“you can come visit too!” you cheered as alessia opened the door of the changing room. you finding your mums stop spotting her name on the jersey.

as she put her bag down sitting on the bench, scooping you up onto her knee everyone else around her beginning to get changing into the warmup kit.

as she began to rummaged around in her bag for a tissue for your runny nose. “that’s very sweet of you” your mummy smiled finding the pack of tissues which had peppa pig on the packaging after you demanded them ones in the shop just like you did with plasters any time you fell down and scraped your knee.

you were adamant that the ones with the pictures on made your knee feel a lot better than the ones that were just plain and boring, alessia knew it was just because they had a picture on them and they were colourful that you liked them — no other reason.

alessia wiping your nose as you moved your face further away from the tissue, slipping off your mums knee and sitting on the bench moving so you were snug in the cubby hole picking up your ipad beginning to watch some cartoons on it.

“your here tiny!” you heard a thick irish accent coming from above you, looking up and seeing katie smiling down at you as you nodded in response to her question.

“where were you on the bus?” katie asks, usually you were all over the place moving from one person to the next it helping you to fill the time in especially on away day trips that were long.

“napping, i still poorly” you say a small cough coming from you as katie nodded, “oh yea’ your ma did say something about you bein’ sick,, how you feeling?” the irish girl asked moving to sit beside you as you venture out of your cubby hole you had been in for the past ten minutes while your mummy was getting changed into her kit.

“otay, got a sore throat” you frowned, katie frowning with you — it was sad seeing you so down with an illness usually you were buzzing around the changing room about the football, no matter whether it was games at arsenal or england. win or loose you loved watching each and every match.

“you not repping the arsenal jersey today?” katie pointed to your pink pyjama top, as you shrugged not even knowing if you had it with you.

“mummy!” you yelled to the best of you abilities with your throat hurting, alessia fixing the edges of her hair with a tiny brush which she called the magic brush as it helped to get all your baby hairs into place.

turning to face you with a smile she nodded for you to ask what you wanted, “where my arsenal top?” you asked now wanting to put it on, especially now that katie had put the idea into your head.

“i think it should be in my bag-“ she said putting her tiny brush down and picking up her bag, you peering over her shoulder watching intensely as she dug through the bag looking for the small red jersey.

“it’s not here, oh i must of forgotten to pick it up — sorry lovie” your mummy looked up from the bag, seeing your bottom lip begin to tremble, guilt consuming her as she mentally screamed at the fact she had forgotten it.

tears beginning to fill in your blue eyes but you didn’t know if it was because of the fact you didn’t have your jersey to wear or that fact your head had started to hurt again. a big rush of emotions filling you.

“lovie, it’s okay.” mummy said hoping to squash the situation, you still trying to navigate how to cope with any big emotions you had.

katie moved from her seat on the bench next to your mum, kneeling down in front of you “tiny, dont worry about it, would you like me to go and see if i can get you a arsenal scarf to wear?” katie asked hoping it may help to soothe the situation, while it wasn’t as good as your jersey it was at least something.

you nodded as mummy rubbed you back to soothe you while mumbling a ‘thank you’ to the irish girl, katie rushing off to see if she could get you the scarf as some of the other girls came over trying to cheer you up a little.

minutes later, katie returned a red scarf in her hand as well as some little arsenal flags. a big smile on the irish girls face as she kneeled down like she did moments before hand, handing them too you.

“what do you say to katie?” mummy whispered in your ear as katie put the scarf in your lap while handing you the flags.

“thank you katie” you sniffed, your eyes a little red from the few tears as katie smiled.

“anything for our favourite little gooner!”

liked by katie_mccabe11 and 641,527 others

alessia even being ill won’t stop her from watching her team🥹

comments -

katie_mccabe11 our little gooner❤️🤍

1h 153 likes     reply

-> alessia forever!

leahwilliamson glad to see she understands what’s the right part of london!!

1h 212 likes     reply

-> alessia i don’t think she would have it any other way

stephcatley favourite little fan forever!

1h 140 likes     reply

[pannman]

Something New

Alastor x GN!Reader

Kinktober 1: biting

Tw: Fluff, biting, Dom and sub dynamics, tentacles, dry humping, mentions of oral

Alastor had always been a perfect gentleman. Even though he was rarely horny himself he was happy to indulge you when he wasn't in the mood sometimes. His ruts could get extra rough and he tended to get really possessive and clingy around that time so he usually refused to even let you see him like that. You enjoyed how respectful he was. But sometimes you wished he'd be a little rougher

After all your initial crush on him started when he started out being mean to you. You at first were annoyed but something about it started to turn you on. Then over time you just developed an intense crush. And after his demeanor started to change you partly missed it. But you also enjoyed how much closer you were getting with him. He was being so much nicer than you were used to

Until one day he confessed his feelings and it caught you completely off guard. He asked to court you (which was really cute) and you said yes

You guys took things very slow and it took a while for you to even get physical. He apparently wasn't the most experienced when you started out

But now, he knew every spot that set you off. And he loved ravishing you. Kissing all the way up and down your body before reaching his destination and treating you like his favorite dessert. But you wondered if he was holding back. If there were things HE wanted that he never expressed. What about HIS pleasure. Even though he rarely was in the mood for sex himself, you couldn't help feel like there was more he enjoyed that he just was too afraid to bring up

Then one day you decided give him a little push. You were getting ready to have sex again. And you noticed his erection which meant he was aroused now as well. You saw it as the perfect time

"I was thinking..." You said playfully. "Whats going on in that beautiful head of yours?" He asked gazing into your eyes. You noticed a little hunger behind them which he usually hid well but being his partner for this long, you learned to recognize it. "Today we should try something new" you answered and you saw his eyes light up a little

"Ah, and what were you thinking we should try?" He asked eager for your response. You hesitated purposefully to build the tension. "I was thinking... YOU could decide" you smirked at him. He seemed taken back a bit by that. "What do you mean?"

"Alastor, today I want you to do WHATEVER YOU WANT to me. Even if it's something you're nervous about. I promise I will say so when something makes me uncomfortable" you assured him

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He carefully questioned. "Yes. I want you to indulge for once. Try something new. And maybe we will even learn something about each other" you explained

Alastor chuckled darkly "very well". A predatory look gleamed on his eyes. It made you weak I'm knees unlike you'd ever felt

"We can start now"

"Strip." Alastor commanded. You begin taking off your clothes, liking this already. "Slower" he said. So you did. He waited for you to be completely naked before he pounced on you trapping you on the bed pinned underneath him. Tentacles sprouted out holding your wrists and ankles. You gave a test tug and discovered they were tight but not painfully

He lowered himself down putting his weight on you before you felt his mouth on your skin. You thought he was going to kiss your neck until you felt intense sharp pain. He sank his teeth into your neck. He drew blood before he lapped it up. You cried out and he stopped and looked at you with concern. You gave him a small smile to show that it was ok and so continued and bit you again. He bit you the shoulder now. Then he moved down and bit your side underneath your arm. Then he bit your stomach in multiple spots. Each time drawing blood and each time licking off your skin.

You felt him getting harder against you through his pants. He started to grind and hump away at you while he sank his teeth into every inch of your body. His hips sped up. He went back up and sank his teeth into your shoulder one last time harder than any of his other bites and soiled his pants as you screamed in pain and little bit of pleasure

He sat back straddling your hips before he unbuckled taking out his cock which was harder than you'd seen it in a long time. Rock hard still even though he just came. Was this the kind of stuff that turned him on? He never told you. Why had he never told you?

He lowered himself before positioning his dick right between your legs. But he didn't go in right away. He hovered there for minute

You were so painfully aroused and even more so when you felt the tip of his cock teasing your hole. You whimpered and noticed his eyes filled with lust and sadistic glee. He was enjoying tormenting you and for some reason that reminded you of how everything started and it turned you on so bad

You felt him breach you entrance and go in slowly. But he looked at you like he was holding back. "Remember, you set the pace however you want" you panted out practically reading his mind and that's all the cue he needed to go barreling inside you back break speed and force

You cried out as your cry turned into a sensual moan. He kept up the pace. Brutal and enjoying every second of it. Since you had told him to indulge he chased his own release but that didn't stop you from cumming. He continued to drill into you through your orgasm and you were started to get overstimulated

He sped up faster and harder until finally he bit you again and came inside you violently

He waited until his cock stopped twitching to pull out and and fell to your side

Once you both caught your breaths, he got up to draw a bath for the two of you

"I don't think I can walk" you stated and he simply scooped you up and carried you over

As you bathed he examined your body and what he'd done to it. "I do apologize if this was too rough for you darling, I may have gotten carried away..." he said with tinge of guilt in his eyes

You couldn't imagine him never doing this again. You had to tell him. "Alastor... I loved it. Every second of it." You confessed. "Even the bites?" He asked. You nodded "even the bites"

Alastor smiled wickedly "well they do look quite lovely on you don't they... perhaps I'll have to replace them once in a while"

[rabbidbunwy]

A drunk Sukuna in love with you 🫧🍸🥂🫧✧˖°

Contents: Best friend!Sukuna x Best friend!reader,mention of alchol[duh],OOC Sukuna[out of character],reader doesn't recognise Sukuna feelings and takes jokes too far,confession went wrong,angst,mention of throwing up

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s:sorry for the changing in the aesthetic i'm trying to find the right one ;P and please don't harass me for writing a non canon Sukuna,thank you

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight

"You're so clingy when you're drunk" you remark, barely suppressing a smirk as you look at your best friend. He's practically plastered, his body slumped against you like a drunken pile of limbs. You can't help but wonder how he managed to get this wasted.

"You really need to learn how to handle your alcohol, King of Curses" you tease, gently poking at his cheek.

Sukuna, unsurprisingly, scowls, his features twisting into a displeased pout. He lifts his scarlet gaze to meet your amused one, his grip on your waist not budging an inch. "Tch, shut up" he grumbles, his words slurring slightly. "I can handle my alcohol just fine."

The air between you is thick with familiarity and shared history, your banter as natural as breathing. Despite his current state, you can see the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, a rare softness in his usually cold eyes.

"Oh really?" You challenge, your smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "Then why are you clinging to me like a koala right now, hm?" You gently nudge his cheek again, clearly enjoying yourself.

Sukuna lets out a low, almost petulant growl, clearly not appreciating being called out on his current needy behavior. "I'm not clinging" he denies, though his actions belie his words as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, drawing in a deep breath.

You can't help but chuckle at his denial. "Right, because burying your face into my neck and wrapping your arms around me like an octopus is totally not clinging" you tease, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "What,are you in love with your best friend or something?" you laughed. Sukuna immediately snaps his head up at your words, a mixture of surprise and irritation flashing in his scarlet eyes. "W-What!?" he splutters, clearly caught off guard. "In love with you? Don't make me laugh" he huffs, though his face is noticeably more flushed than before.

"Yeah,because if you really loved me that would be disgusting" you joked a bit bitterly giggling waving your hand.

Sukuna stiffens, his grip on your waist tightening involuntarily. Your words cut surprisingly deep, causing his face to tighten and his eyes to darken momentarily. He looks away, a flicker of… something crossing his features. Disbelief? Hurt? Anger? He couldn't put a name to it.

When he speaks, his usual tone is edged, trying to mask the emotions brewing beneath the surface. "Love you? Don't flatter yourself" he sneers. "thats what i'm saying,we will never love eachother,and i don't love your nor i will ever will" you said unconsciously has you sat on the sofa turning on the tv.

Sukuna's heart clenches painfully at your words, an unexpected ache spreading through him. Deep down, a small part of him had hoped… had thought maybe you loved him, even a bit. But no, you just confirmed that it wasn't possible.

He grits his teeth, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Good" he grumbles, refusing to look at you. "I don't want your love… or anyone's, for that matter. It's useless."

Despite his words, you notice the slight tremor in his voice, a hint of vulnerability that he tries to hide. Sukuna may appear aloof and uncaring most of the time, but behind that rough exterior, he's more sensitive than he'd ever admit.

Leaning back against the sofa, you watch him through the corner of your eye. He's tense, his shoulders tight, and his gaze is fixed on the TV, though you're not sure if he's actually watching or just avoiding looking at you.

The silence between you feels heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. Neither of you speak, the tension palpable. Sukuna's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and conflicting emotions, his heart warring with his pride. He wants to say so much, to confess the true depths of his feelings, but fear and denial hold him back.

He steals a glance at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your profile. You look peaceful, your attention on the TV, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside him. He grits his teeth, torn between the desire to blurt out the words on the tip of his tongue and the ingrained habit of hiding his true feelings behind a facade of indifference.

"Hey" he mutters, his voice gruff and low, almost inaudible over the sound of the TV. "I, uh… need to use the bathroom."

Sukuna stands, swaying a little, and heads towards the bathroom, leaving you alone. As soon as the door closes, he leans heavily against it, his chest heaving as he tries to regain control of his tumultuous emotions.

The silence of the bathroom is deafening. He runs the cold water, splashing some on his face, hoping it'll sober him up and calm his racing heart. But it doesn't work. The image of you, sitting on the sofa, not looking at him, is etched in his mind, fueling the storm inside him.

He grips the edge of the sink, his knuckles turning white. Why does it hurt so much? Why does it sting to hear you say you could never love him?

Sukuna clenches his teeth, anger bubbling up beneath his pain. "It's just the alcohol" he mutters to himself, trying to convince himself that his emotions are just a byproduct of the inebriation. "It's just the alcohol making me think nonsense… feel stupid things."

He looks at himself in the mirror, his reflection blurry through his intoxicated haze. He scowls, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Foolish. You're being foolishly sentimental, King of Curses" he chides himself.

But no matter how much he berates himself, no matter how much he tries to will the feelings away, the ache in his chest persists. He splashes more water on his face, the coldness doing nothing to soothe the fire inside him.

And then, the sound of a knock on the bathroom door jolts him out of his thoughts.

"Oi, are you okay in there?" Your voice filters through the door, laced with concern. Sukuna freezes, his mind racing. He can't let you see him like this—weak, vulnerable.

"I'm fine" he barks, his tone gruff and defensive. "Just… give me a minute."

There's a moment of silence on the other side of the door before you speak again. "You don't sound fine" you say, your voice softer now. "Let me in."

Sukuna's breath hitches slightly at your words. He's torn—part of him wants you to come in, to see him in his vulnerable state, to know what he's really feeling. But the other, more prideful half, wants to protect himself, to maintain his cool, indifferent facade.

"No" he says firmly, though the word lacks its usual authority. "I don't need your damn help."

"You're being stubborn" you reply, your voice filled with both annoyance and concern. "Just open the door." There's a note of finality in your tone, like you won't take no for an answer.

Sukuna glares at the door, weighing his options. Part of him admires your stubbornness, the other resents it. But he knows he can't keep you at bay forever.

With a frustrated huff, he wrenches the door open, standing there in all his disheveled, drunken glory. He's a mess, but he tries to maintain his usual intimidating glare. "Happy now?" he sneers, crossing his arms across his chest.

You step forward, your eyes roaming over him, taking in his disheveled appearance. There's a flicker of something in your expression—sympathy, maybe?—but it's gone before he can be certain.

"You look like a toddler who hasn't napped all day" you remark dryly, reaching out to gently push some of his unruly hair back into place.

Sukuna flinches at the unexpected touch, his body betraying him by responding to your gentle caress. He glares at you, trying to mask the way his heart skipped a beat. "Don't touch me" he growls, but his voice lacks its usual conviction.

You ignore his protest, continuing to fix his hair. Your fingers are gentle but firm, deftly untangling the knots and setting his locks back in order.

"You need to sober up" you tell him, your tone matter-of-fact. "Sit" you order, pointing at the edge of the bathtub.

Sukuna scowls, but he obeys, albeit reluctantly. He perches on the edge of the bathtub, his arms crossed over his chest. He tries to appear nonchalant, but the effect is somewhat ruined by his obvious lack of balance, the way he sways slightly even sitting down.

"I don't need to sober up" he mutters, more as a matter of principle than anything else.

"You can't even sit straight" you note, your tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. You grab a glass from the sink and fill it with water from the tap.

"Here" you say, holding the glass out to him. "Drink."

Sukuna takes the glass, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, sending a small shiver up his spine. He brings the glass to his lips, taking a few sips, the cool water running down his throat.

He avoids your gaze, his face still set in a scowl, but he can't deny the fact that he does feel a little calmer now.

Then you sighed walking out of the bathroom sitting on the sofa "if you need to throw up hit the toilet"

Sukuna trailed after you, his steps slightly shaky but managing to maintain his trademark swagger. "I don't need you to tell me that" he grumbles, collapsing onto the sofa beside you. He takes a cushion, placing it strategically in his lap.

"I'm not gonna throw up" he insists, though there's a hint of doubt in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow skeptically. "You sure about that?" you say, a hint of amusement in your tone. "You've never been good at holding your alcohol."

You look at him, noticing the way he clenches the cushion in his lap, the tension in his shoulders.

"really,i never saw you acting like this,it's makes you look so stupid-"You were interrupted when Sukuna suddenly threw the pillow,raging, "It's because I fucking love you! don't you understand that?!"

The pillow sails past your face, hitting the wall behind you with a soft thump. Sukuna's shouting startles you, his sudden outburst surprising.

"L-Love…me?" you stutter, unable to hide the shock in your voice. You get up, turning to face him, your mind reeling from his confession.

Sukuna stands, his face flushed, his eyes locked on yours. He looks like a man on the edge, all his usual composure gone, replaced by raw, unfiltered emotion.

"Yes, I… dammit, I love you!" he repeats, his words filled with a desperate ache. "I've loved you for ages, but I… I didn't know how to tell you, how to make you understand…" He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands reaching out to grip your shoulders, his fingers digging into your skin.

"And tonight, hearing you say that you could never love me… it hurt. It hurt badly. I can't stand it, I can't stand the thought of you never loving me back, of losing you…" He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes pleading.

The room is filled with silence. You look at him, your heart racing, your mind swirling with a million thoughts. Sukuna, your best friend, the powerful Curse, is confessing his love to you. It's a lot to process.

You reach up a hand, gently cupping his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. He leans into your touch, a needy sound rumbling deep in his chest.

"I…I don't understand" you murmur, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into his cheek. "I thought… we were just best friends."

Sukuna huffs a bitter laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's what I told myself, too" he admits. "I thought I could keep my feelings hidden, that I could just be your friend, that it would be enough… but it's not. It never was."

He steps even closer, his body now mere inches from yours. He towers over you, his presence overwhelming, but there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"You mean everything to me" he whispers, his voice hoarse. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. I don't care if I'm supposed to be a Curse, a fearsome lord… you make me feel human, something I haven't felt in centuries. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, fear, uncertainty, the risk of losing the friendship you'd nurtured for so long. But on the other, there's a flutter of something… hope, happiness, love?

You look at him, taking in his confession, his raw, desperate emotions. A thousand words dance on the tip of your tongue, but what comes out is an uncharacteristic stutter. "I… I don't know what to say…"

"Say you'll give me a chance" he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Say you'll let me prove my love for you. I know I'm not perfect, far from it… but I'll try my damned hardest to make you happy if you just let me."

His grip tightens on your shoulders, his thumbs tracing aimless patterns on your skin.

You chew on your lower lip, the enormity of his words sinking in. It's a lot to take in, a lot to consider.

"And if it doesn't work?" you ask quietly, your voice wavering slightly. "If… if it doesn't work out, what then?"

Sukuna's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of determination in their depths. "It will work" he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I won't accept any alternative. I'll make it work, even if it kills me."

He leans in closer, his face inches from yours. You can feel his warm breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Trust me" he murmurs, his voice a soft, velvety whisper. "Please, just trust me."

He cups your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly tender considering the rough, calloused nature of his palms. His thumbs gently stroke your cheeks, an almost reverent gesture.

His eyes search yours, looking for any hint of refusal, any sign that you're about to push him away. But he finds none. Instead, there's a mixture of emotions there—uncertainty, fear, and yes, there it is, a spark of hope.

Sukuna leans down, slowly, his lips hovering just above yours. "Can I… can I kiss you?" he breathes, the question carrying a world of meaning.

You hold your breath, your mind racing. His lips are so close, mere millimeters from yours. You can almost taste the whiskey on his breath.

In that moment, you make your decision. You nod once, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement.

The permission is all Sukuna needs. He closes the final gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss.

His lips are surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his usually hard, callous demeanor. The kiss is deep, hungry, a mix of desperation and yearning. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his body molding to yours as though you're meant to fit together like two puzzle pieces.

His hands roam over your back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin, leaving trails of fire in his wake.

The kiss is intense, consuming, and despite the alcohol clouding both of your judgments, neither of you pull away. His tongue demands entry into your mouth, which you willingly allow, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

His hands tighten on your waist, almost possessively, as though he's afraid you might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight.

He breaks the kiss, coming up for air, his chest heaving against yours. His eyes are darkened, almost feral, as he gazes down at you.

"You taste even better than I imagined" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "How long have I been waiting to do that…"

[cece693]

Hi, it's the anonymous who made the first request posted about Ethan. I'm so glad you did; it was great to read and I hope you don't mind me asking for more. I'm thirsty for this character. Anyway, the request is about Ethan and the male reader in a toxic relationship where the reader is controlling and seemingly abusive, which worries his friends, but in reality this behavior is encouraged by Ethan himself, who simply loves his boyfriend's possessiveness, both of them bringing out the worst in each other. PS: watch the last two Scary Movie films when you can. They're really fun!

My Boy (Ethan Landry x M! Reader)

Thanks for the request :) I will definitely try to watch the new Scream movies when I have a chance. All I know about Ethan (with a Google search and reading his Wiki entry) is that he's a dorky and geeky guy so I used that to base this. Also, I mainly focused on how you're toxic, not including Ethan since I don't know him well. Hope you enjoy it!

Ethan’s friends had been worried for months. They’d noticed the changes—the way Ethan slowly isolated himself, the constant presence of his boyfriend, M/N, who always seemed to hover a bit too closely, and the way Ethan would flash a nervous smile whenever M/N’s arm tightened possessively around his waist. To an outsider, it looked like a classic case of an abusive relationship, the kind where one person held all the power, and the other was too scared to leave. His friends whispered behind his back, exchanged concerned glances when they saw the way Ethan always sought permission with his eyes before speaking or the way M/N’s words always seemed to silence him in public.

But what they didn’t know, what they couldn’t possibly understand, was that this was exactly what Ethan wanted. The boy leaned into it, into the rough words, the tight grip on his arm when M/N pulled him away from anyone who dared get too close. His friends thought those marks on his wrist and neck were signs of something dark, something to be feared. But to Ethan, they were marks of love.

M/N’s fierce jealousy, his need to control every little thing—who Ethan spoke to, where he went, what he wore—was intoxicating. Ethan didn’t want soft love or gentle touches. He wanted to feel owned and consumed. Wanted to feel like he couldn't live without M/N because he was the very air needed to breathe. And M/N gave him that in spades.

The possessiveness wasn’t some accident; it was nurtured between them, a game they played. Ethan loved pushing M/N to his limits, seeing the anger flash in his eyes when someone dared talk to him, only for M/N to later drag him into a heated argument, the tension sizzling between them. Their fights were never just fights; they were foreplay, a dance of anger and passion that neither of them could resist.

Behind closed doors, their dynamic took on a whole different life. Ethan didn’t cower when M/N snapped at him; he smiled, relishing every possessive word. When M/N told him to stop talking to certain people, Ethan’s heart raced, not out of fear but out of exhilaration. He loved how it felt to be controlled, to be told what to do, to be pulled back into M/N’s orbit over and over again.

The world saw a victim in Ethan, but in reality, he was the one fanning the flames, drawing out every possessive instinct in M/N. He loved the danger of it, how far they could push before it burned them both alive. And M/N? He was more than happy to oblige, loving how Ethan craved his jealousy, how he’d provoke M/N just to see that flash of rage, knowing it would end with them entangled in each other, lost in the toxicity of their need.

Ethan’s friends just didn’t get it, and it was exhausting. If only they could mind their own business, Ethan would be a lot happier. As he spotted Tara and Sam heading his way, he groaned internally, already anticipating yet another "concerned" conversation. He briefly considered making a run for it, but they were too quick, closing in and cornering him before he could escape.

“Ethan,” Tara’s voice was firm, low, and filled with that frustratingly familiar sense of urgency. “We need to talk. It's about M/N.”

Ethan immediately tensed, his jaw tightening. Of course, it was about M/N. It was always about M/N. He narrowed his eyes at Tara, shifting his weight like a boxer getting ready for a fight. “There’s nothing to talk about, Tara,” he replied sharply, his voice cold. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Sam cut in, stepping closer, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. “We’ve been watching this for months, Ethan. He’s controlling you. You don’t hang out with us anymore, you barely text—hell, you hardly even smile these days. It’s like he’s cut you off from everyone who actually cares about you.”

Ethan’s heart raced with growing anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “I’m not cut off from anyone!” His voice came out sharper than he intended, his body rigid with tension. “I’m just busy. You guys wouldn’t understand.”

“Busy?” Tara’s disbelief was evident, her eyes wide as she stepped closer, not letting him wiggle out of the conversation. “Ethan, we’ve seen the way he treats you! You flinch when he’s around. You’re constantly looking over your shoulder, like you’re waiting for him to snap. That’s not normal. That’s not healthy.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shot back, his voice edged with frustration. “You don’t know him. He’s not what you think.”

Sam stepped forward, her tone soft but firm, like she was speaking to a child. “Ethan, listen to me. He’s not good for you. There are other guys—better guys—who’d treat you right. You don’t have to put up with this.”

“I don’t need your help!” Ethan snapped, cutting her off. His voice rose with every word, anger flashing in his eyes. He stepped back, trying to create distance, his frustration boiling over. “You want me to leave him, but I love him. Why can't anyone seem to get that?!”

Tara’s eyes softened as if she could somehow break through his anger. “Ethan, we care about you. We’re only trying to help. I’ve even got someone in mind—he’s sweet, kind, nothing like M/N. You don’t have to settle just because M/N is your first boyfriend. There are people out there who would actually treat you well.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, a flash of offense crossing his face. His lips curled into a bitter, humorless smile as he shook his head in disbelief. “Wow,” he muttered, looking down briefly before fixing Tara with a sharp glare. “I can’t believe you just managed to insult me and overstep every boundary I’ve got in one sentence.”

“That’s not what I—”

“No, I get it,” Ethan cut her off, his voice icy. “You think I’m some pathetic loser who can’t handle his own relationship, that I’m just clinging to M/N because I’m desperate. But you’re wrong. You don’t understand us at all. He’s not controlling me—I want this. I want him. You think he’s bad for me? You don’t know him like I do.”

“Ethan, you’re not seeing clearly,” Sam tried to interject, her voice pleading now. “He’s manipulating you, making you think this is love—.”

“Stop!” Ethan screamed, his fists trembling as he glared at them both. “You have no right to interfere in my life like this. M/N isn’t the problem, you are. You can’t stand that I’m not the same person I was before, that I’m happy in a way you’ll never understand. I don’t need saving—I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Tara’s face fell, her shoulders sagging as the hope of reaching him began to fade. “Ethan…”

“No,” Ethan growled. “I don’t want to hear it. Not again. Stay out of my relationship. If you can’t respect that, maybe we’re not meant to be friends.”

Without another word, Ethan turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving Tara and Sam standing in stunned silence, their concern now tinged with a deep, helpless sadness. To them, Ethan’s anger and defensiveness were just more proof of how deeply M/N had his claws in him, manipulating him into believing that this toxic love was all he deserved. But to Ethan, it wasn’t manipulation at all. It was passion, fierce and raw, the kind of love that consumed you whole—and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He swore he'll fucking kill anyone who tried to step in between you and him.

[artemisgrayy]

Okay but I don't think anyone here would mind if you wrote some Alastor aftercare as well!

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fem!Reader, NSFW, BDSM, drawing blood (teeth/claws), breath play, creampie, Alastor's shadow, rough sex, aftercare

A/n: I've been so busy with Real Life™️ but I can't stop thinking about Dom Alastor and his aftercare routine 👀 thank you so much for this prompt! 🥹

I'm also trying a new format? So feedback is VERY appreciated.

✨ Masterlist ✨

A big huge shout-out to @vielle-art for the proofread/copyedits 💖

18+ - Minors DO NOT INTERACT

Dom!Alastor will bind you to the bed, his shadow tendrils like icy shackles against your wrists, ankles, and throat. The radio demon will circle you, a wicked smile on his face as he looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, watching you struggle helplessly and begging to be let go. His wicked laugh overshadows your gasp when you come close to freedom only for them to pull you back down again.

Dom!Alastor has no hesitation when it comes to sinking his teeth into your inner thighs. The sound of your scream when he draws blood triggers a primal growl to escape from his throat. He likes to hold your gaze while his tongue licks the blood off your skin, edging closer to your exposed heat, and stopping just shy of it.

Dom!Alastor takes safe word usage very seriously but It's a game to him. The demon will push you right to your limit, teetering on the line. He loves to see you squirm, whimpering and on the brink of breaking beneath him.

Dom!Alastor likes to use his claws to gently trace along your clit, basking in the noises you make when he applies just enough pressure that you're writhing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Dom!Alastor will wait until you're breathlessly pleading, your chest heaving with such desire that you can't take it anymore -- and he'll wait just a bit longer. Your pathetic whimpers and bargaining remind him of someone begging for their life, and nothing ignites his desire more than that.

Dom!Alastor uses his shadowy tendrils to pin your neck down, forcing you to lock eyes with him when he climbs on top of you. He's consumed by the ecstasy painted across your face when his cock pushes through your folds. His maniacal chuckle rings through your ears as your vision blackens. He loves the expression you make when you're robbed of oxygen, overwhelmed by his monstrous length stretching you out, inch by inch.

Dom!Alastor only allows you a moment to gasp for breath when he loosens the hold around your neck before he starts fucking you relentlessly, feeding into your desperation.

Dom!Alastor wants to hear you say who you belong to, over and over again. He grows more feral with each "I belong to you, Alastor" as you fall further and further into subspace. His eyes blacken, the horns on his head jut out violently, and his radio-filtered snarls echo off the walls of the room.

Dom!Alastor gets enthralled by the way you submit further for him. He'll use the shadow to flip you over so he can take you from behind - his favourite position. He wants to fuck you like the animal you are.

Dom!Alastor loves the way you cry out when he sinks one set of his claws into your waist, intentionally carving through the skin. He'll use his other hand to pin your head to the pillow, hair ripping from your scalp as he hungrily bucks his hips against your ass.

Dom!Alastor will grab your wrist when he catches you massaging your clit, chasing your own release. "Ah ah ah," he barks, "you'll cum when I tell you to."

Dom!Alastor gets driven wild by the way you beg, plead, and bargain for your release when you're right on the cusp. His thrusts become more aggressive as he feeds off of your desperation.

Dom!Alastor will pull you up by your hair to hold you against him. He wants to see your face when he whispers "cum, my doe."

Dom!Alastor growls violently as he feels the walls of your pussy clutch his cock when the orgasm rips through you. It pushes him over the edge, his seed spilling inside of you. He loves the idea of filling you up and marking you as his own - physically laying claim to his possession.

Dom!Alastor doesn't take long to shift into aftercare mode when he notices you trembling. When the tendrils release their hold, he'll pick you up and pull you under the covers, cradling you against him.

Dom!Alastor will summon a gramophone, playing soft jazz that echoes through the vastness of the room as he runs his fingers through your hair. You sit like that for a few minutes while you bask in post-orgasm haze together.

Dom!Alastor confirms your boundaries; he ensures that, despite everything, you feel safe. It doesn't matter to him how long he's known you - he'll check in with you again and again. He'll listen to your words, your feedback, all while cradling your face as you look up at him.

Dom!Alastor Cleans and bandages your lacerations, apologizing when you flinch from the acrid bite of the antiseptic. He's captivated and almost giddy by the way you let him leave his mark on you. He'll whisper to you- only you - about how beautiful your body, your flesh, and all of you looks, as he gingerly runs his claws against your skin.

Dom!Alastor materializes your favourite pyjamas and puts them on for you, careful not to disturb any of the still-raw injuries he's decorated your body with.

Dom!Alastor drifts his claws through your hair, your head on his chest. "Good girl," he whispers, his mellifluous voice coating your ears like the sweetest honey as you surrender to sleep.

--

✨ Masterlist ✨

[iliketangerines]

a lesson in shrubbery

a/n: i'm a little late...just give me a second to catch up

pairing: tsu'tey x afab!na'vi!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), rough sex, orgasm control, teasing, public sex (you're in the forest), doggystyle

perhaps you had pushed him a bit too far this time, vying for Tsu’tey’s attention whenever he was trying to teach his trainees and also deal with the outsider at the same time

it’s just that he had been so distant lately, spending more time complaining and muttering underneath his breath about Tsyeyk Suli rather than paying attention to you

you knew that it was the stress of becoming future olo’eyktan and the increasing encroachment of the sky people on eywa’eveng

and you really should’ve just let things settle and cool until you brought up your own problems to Tsu’tey

but really, you were also tired, the bedroll cold when you went to bed and barely warm when you woke up, Tsu’tey’s tail whipping out of the tent flap as he sped to go to training

it had frustrated you, leaving you to stop cutting and peeling fruits for him, finding the best cut of meat for him at meals, and talking to him during meals

you had thought your avoidance towards him would perhaps maybe bring his attention to you, but he hadn’t even noticed, barely present at any meal times, off in the forest deep in the night to practice his hunting and stalking skills

and then, you had resorted to bothering him during training, when you knew he was busy to try and get his attention

he had not appreciated it and dismissed you many times, but you supposed flirting with the dream walker today snapped him out of whatever trance he had on training

his hand presses further into the small of your back as he thrusts his cock into you, barely a rhythm as he snarls at you, fangs bared

“what, you think i can’t please you? my own mate?” his voice is a deep growl, sending shivers up your spine and your tail whipping in the air

he grabs it into his other hand, pulling at it roughly and drawing a loud choked sound out of your throat

you claw at the dirt underneath your hands, tears staining the earth along with your arousal, the clear liquid dripping down the inside of your plush thighs and into the dirt

Tsu’tey ignores your clit, opting to just growl and snap his hips into yours, enough so that there’s a wet slap every time he fucks back into you

it’s feral how he snarls, spitting insults about the dreamwalker, and you can barely process them as he lets go of your tail and brings it to grip onto your hip, nails digging into your skin

“you belong to me, yeah? only i can fuck you like this, make you this into this pathetic mess.” his hand that was pressing into the small of your back moves forward and grabs onto your kuru, gently tugging at it

pleasure bursts in your vision as you gasp for air, “Tsu’tey please please, i’m sorry, i- agh ah hah!”

his hand once again tugs on your kuru, and your mind goes blank, tongue nothing more than a block of wood as you struggle to beg for your own pleasure

“aw what? you’re gonna have to speak up, syulang.” his voice holds a tint of arrogance, teasing, a smirk on his lips as he watches you fall apart underneath his hands

bruises would be sure to paint your hips, you would remember every thrust everytime you sit down or crouch, and you struggle to formulate sentences as you try and answer his question

“agggh hah mmnng,” only pathetic moans can slip from you as he angles his hips slightly, finally giving you slight reprieve as the tip of his cock bullies into your sweet spot, a rush of your arousal rushing through you and coating him

a thick ring of your slick forms around the base of his dick, and Tsu’tey stares at it, licking his lips as he lets go of your kuru, draping his body over yours so that his chest presses into your upper back and leaning his weight onto one forearm

“c’mon syulang, i can’t hear you.” his fangs sink into the skin of your neck, tasting your sweat and your musk, feeling your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue

Tsu’tey brings his fingers to your clit, pinching the sensitive bundle of nerves, his hips still steadily fucking into you with wet slaps

“agh ah ah i- ughh,” it’s the only thing you can whine as he rubs your clit in between two fingers roughly, the callouses on his fingertips rubbing deliciously against you

you can hardly think, back arching further to try and get him deeper into you, only focused on how you need to cum

your mate groans, feeling your pussy clench around him, sucking him in deeper, tempting him to cum inside of you so that you smell like him, so that no other suitor would dare to try and chase you

Tsu’tey nips at your neck once more, making sure that there would be bitemarks left before pressing his tongue against the mark to ease the pain

“you think you deserve to cum? after all that? after flaunting what is mine in front of that demon?” anger flares through him once more at the thought of that dreamwalker taking you away from him

“please, pleeaase, only yours, forever yours” you whimper it quietly, heavy tongue somehow forming the words as you drool, so close to your release, to the height of pleasure

he groans at your admission that you belong to him, that you’re only his, and he kisses your neck as he grunts, pinching at your clit again, rubbing it just how he has memorized

his fingers have mapped your body, traveled every crevice and bump and knows you better than he knew himself

Tsu’tey belonged to you just as much as you belonged with him, and he was yours

a groan falls from his mouth as his hips stutter and his hot cum fills you, short shallow thrusts fucking his seed further into you as he rides out his orgasm

you keen as you cum at the same time, pussy clenching tightly as you bring him in deeper to you, desperate needy whine moans falling from yout mouth as you finally dive over the cliff into pleasure

the both of you pant into the air, letting it cool and bring you back to reality

still, your brain still feels full of fuzz, like pollen had sunk into your head, and you lay limbless in the shrubbery, too tird to try and talk

Tsu’tey stays for a few minutes more before pressing a soft kiss to your neck and pulling out of you, whispering a small apology as you whine at the feeling, oversensitive now

he gently picks you up into his arms, smiling to himself now that you smell like him completely and wholly

the wind is quiet as he brings you to the calm rivers, “the water’s going to be cold, syulang.”

you nuzzle into his chest, humming, and he steps into the water slowly, letting you sink into the water with him as you cling onto his neck and breathe slow breaths

he settles you into his lap, running his hands over your body and wiping away the sweat gently from your neck and your face

trailing one hand in between your legs, he gentle cleans you of your arousal, pressing apology kisses to your forehead as his fingers rubs at your sensitive pussy

you just let out a somewhat irritated and hum and cling tighter to him, not wanting this moment to end

“i missed you, Tsu’tey.” it’s a quiet whisper from you, but he hears it and sighs, leaning his chin on your shoulder

“i know, i missed you too. i’m sorry, i should’ve paid you more attention, syulang. forgive me?” his voice is just as quiet, the words only for you and the quiet of the forest

a pause of silence from you passes by, “yeah, i forgive you.”

Tsu’tey smiles and continues to hold you in your arms until the night underneath the eclipse appears