#and bit of a fight for submission

[goddessofroyalty]

I'm all in for angst and toxic old man yaoi but how could Vander x Silco x Marcus ABO work in a healthy-ish way?

Something i found interesting is that even if Silco is an Omega he dominates Marcus. Both are Omegas with stressful jobs/tend to be dominant that have someone they trust and theyvare able to give up control.

Sub Marcus my beloved ❤

The hard thing about getting that relationship into a healthy space is you have the really big hurdle of Marcus being an Enforcer which is a group of people who killed Silco and Vander's friends and Silco and Vander were revolutionaries that killed Enforcers. And, while, yes, they could work through it to move past about each other as individuals it's probably always going to be simmering away there on them.

There's also just how proud Silco and Marcus are and while yeah they have stressful jobs that could have them wanting to have someone they can give up control around that's going be a hard-won thing. And Silco had it with Vander but now there's another omega in the room and he wants to make sure Marcus knows Silco's the top omega. Also generally - Mouthy Brats the both of them.

They are clearly enjoying themselves because they keep doing it. It's just that Vander has to work each time to get them to drop their guards and actually be submissive. Marcus is always the easier/first one to break which is why a lot of the time this pairing is Tag Team The Cop to me. Silco might be an omega but he's got a dominant streak and it's nice sometimes to watch someone else get wrecked by Vander.

[silver-horse]

unfortunately I have opinions about the ascendant astarion ending and I have been holding back from saying it. but it's a problem that applies to the whole game and it's been annoying me

what's actually weird about the ascendant "romance" scene is that the writer considers it a tempting option for the player. They wrote it to be bad, but they also think it's a fun and sexy option. Same goes for the haarlep scene which they also wrote that way because they find it sexy. Except finding this sexually appealing entirely hinges on the idea that the player is a submissive. So RIP to a scene that the rest of us could have found sexy because the lead narrative designer was a submissive. lmao

In this game you can have a scene where you have to kneel for a male character. But you can never have a male character do the same for you. (Halsin doesn't count. It's a vanilla scene, he is not submissive there and we are not even asking/telling him to kneel down) You don't get such options, not even if you play a drow female! RIP the number one reason for playing drow female to be honest. lol You can kneel and fully submit to ascendant astarion or fully submit to mizora or fully submit to haarlep or submit to lae'zel or submit to minthara. you can get whipped by abdirak or you can tell him "touch me and lose a hand" he even responds positively to this remark and yet the possibility to flip the dynamic doesn't exist. There is never an option where a male character truly submits to the player. RIP to a scene that would have been the opposite of the traditional dynamic. the potential that existed but they never used the opportunity

By the way, how interesting that Lae'zel is dominant but she is a woman so ofc you get the option to tell her “no you will submit to me”. You never get such switch options with any of the male characters... Obviously it's not ascendant where they could have made that an option. My point is that it's NEVER an option among so many male characters.

It's a cool idea that the bad ending in a romance means "I saw this character as a sex object" except it falls apart when the scene is very sexually unappealing to anyone who is more dominant leaning. If I see a character as a sex object then I would place them in sexual situations which are appealing to me. so the message doesn't quite work. because there isn't anything that I can selfishly choose for myself just because I like it and I find it sexy.

[ultimate-sword-showdown]

I'm bored, so let's look at some submission stats 3 days in!

Number of total submissions: 47

Number of unique submissions: 40

The following swords have been submitted to return and need additional submissions to be confirmed:

Myrtenaster (RWBY): needs 2 more submissions

Dragonslayer (Berserk): needs 2 more submissions

Sword of the Creator (Fire Emblem): needs 2 more submissions

Excalibur (Soul Eater): needs 2 more submissions

Nightblood (Warbreaker): needs 2 more submissions

Leo's Katanas/Odachi (RotTMNT): needs 2 more submissions (counting these both as one entity for simplicity's sake)

I recognize that tournaments are not nearly in their height as they were before, but this is quite the dropoff from last time. If submissions don't pick up soon I might have to remove the barrier for entry for the returning swords so any that got submitted even once will be included. I implemented that rule assuming I'd get as high a number of submissions as the first iteration did, but it seems that it wasn't necessary.

Anyways, I'd definitely like to reach at least 64 submissions before closing the poll, so if you can think of any more swords you'd like to submit or would like to help boost this at all that would be greatly appreciated :)

[hyoer]

Project: Get Over Bob (2)

pairing. Bob Reynolds x reader

synopsis. Bob likes someone that’s not you and now its up to you to carry on Project Get Over Bob.

warnings. Mentions of suicide (vagueish), mentions of child abuse and  forms of non-physical self-harm, mentions of drugs :( Bob just struggling a lot with life but reader and the team are there to make it better even if it’s just a bit. Lots of angst and no comfort… Yet. Also, a bit of kissing. I may have made reader english unintentionally :) expansion of readers relationship with the team!! The Void and a little?bit of the Sentry make an appearance.

word count. 6.5k

Notes at the end of this chapter

part 1.

Phase: Bob?

Robert Reynolds grew up like a dog, held taught at the neck, beaten into submission for the hell of it. He'd spent 29 years running from the cage he grew up in.

From backwater towns to unkind cities, across borders and oceans, he was always searching for his next high.

And every time he found it and crashed, he crashed harder.

All of his misfortune had led him to Kuala Lumpur. What better place, he thought, for cheap meth and good food?

Not that he could afford either once he landed. His so-called "working holiday" quickly devolved into sleepless nights and cheap motel rooms.

The lab was a nightmare, and the splitting of his mind it hurt, it hurt so much. But none of that pain could compare to the guilt.

The sickening knowledge that he'd hurt people.

That he'd become the thing he feared.

His father had always told him: Violence is in your blood. One day, you'll understand it's not cruelty—it’s survival. Bob had spent his life trying to prove him wrong, only to fail.

Waking up in the vault was terrifying. But that fear was eclipsed by the feeling of something stronger, the opportunity of a real life.

A final chance.

He regarded it as the single most important moment of his life. Sure, getting the sentry serum was life-changing. But he’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping what he had now.

And you were there the day it all started.

You weren’t a child assassin like Yelena, or a phasing shadow like Ava, or a walking weapon like Alexei, Bucky, or Walker. But you moved with purpose. Precision. That quiet intensity set you apart. You weren’t the strongest in the vault. But took twice as many hits as you dealt and got up three times as fast.

Now, in the tower, most of Bob’s nights were spent with you. He’d perch himself on your sofa, fingers picking at the frayed threads along the armrest, eyes blurred but never closed. You’d talk about everything. The strange weather patterns, Alexei’s obsession with marketing, the new taco shop opening downstairs—mundane things, your voice soft and steady, trying to anchor him.

The room always felt smaller when you were there. Your presence was a warmth that filled every corner, something he could almost reach out and hold if he wasn’t so afraid of breaking it somehow.

But even you couldn’t keep the thoughts out.

The silence between your words gave them space. The darkness of the room fed them. And the safety you offered made them bolder.

“I wish I’d died in Sarasota.” he said one night.

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with a fear he hadn’t expect.

“Hey—no, no. Please don’t say that, Robert.”  you moved closer  “Please just- just look at me.”

Your hand cupped his face, fingertips grazing the edge of his jaw, soft and trembling.

It wasn’t romantic.

It wasn’t sexual.

It was a safe feeling touch, he’d always wanted that.

You always gave it to him.

“Look, I won’t tell you that you can’t feel like this, it wouldn’t be right for me to say that. But you’ve been working so hard to unpack your issues and work at them, please, please just give yourself the credit you deserve.”

He blinked up at you, fighting the urge to look away.

“Most people go their whole lives never even trying to unpack their pain,” you continued, voice low but unwavering. “But you—you’re facing it. That’s brave.”

And for a moment.

The void inside him seemed to shrink that bit smaller.

Being at the tower felt freer than the life of a nomad he’d adopted for the past 7 years. There were still plenty of rules, curfews, schedules and therapy sessions—but the structure gave him purpose. It kept his mind and body active.

Every morning, Yelena would bang on his door like a madman.

“Make sure you grab your coffee ~” she’d call through the door, already bounding halfway down the hall by the time he’d have opened his eyes.

There, he’d find you with your back turned, shuffling through the music on your phone, tapping your foot lightly to the beat. He’d reach over and grab two cups for you both before heading out for a run in Central Park with Yelena, well, he’d be attempting to run, but that was besides the point.

He’d run beside Lena, wheezing through half-finished stories about old jobs or nights he barely remembered. She’d hit back with tales from the Red Room. They were always darker, sometimes sad, but she was a master of comedy so he’d be barking out laughs between gasps for air the whole way.

Once she was finished torturing him he’d head back to the tower to meet Ava in the lab.

She was helping him work toward his GED—something he’d started years ago, then abandoned when life got too loud. Now, with all the time and resources in the world, he thought it would be a good time to start again.

Ava was the best teacher he could ask for.

She never rolled her eyes when he forgot how to do something, never laughed when he misread something aloud.

Her teaching was patient and kind.

She wasn’t much of a talker, which was a given with her solitary upbringing, but that was fine with him. They’d spend time in comfortable silence, with Bob occasionally breaking it to ask a question. Both of them used to the quiet, neither of them quite understood what normal looked like but their quiet friendship fulfilled them both.

After finishing up with his work, Bucky would usually steal him away for sparring.

“You keep dropping your guard.” he’d grunt, tossing Bob onto the mat for the fifth time in the past ten minutes.

“I don’t have a guard.” Bob would mutter, staring up at the ceiling begging someone, anyone for a break.

He hated physical exercise.

The sentry serum had made Bob invincible and while he didn’t feel any pain, his frustration was with his lack of ability.

His strength was absolute, his body impenetrable, but, he wanted to be able to move around with the same grace and stealth that the others did.

Bucky pushed him harder than anyone else.

But it never felt cruel.

It was focused and encouraging.

Like he was his older brother who believed in him enough to never go easy.

You’d sometimes be there too, just out of sight in the adjacent room. You’d be reviewing mission footage or deep in a debrief.

Bob liked it better when you weren’t watching. Not because he didn’t want you there, he just preferred to keep his exploits or lack thereof between the senator and himself instead.

Dinner was one of the best parts of his day.

Sitting at the dinner table didn’t involve endless lectures or threats of harm. Alexei and John would always be the first ones at the table, seated across from him like some sort of strange uncle-nephew trio. They weren’t constantly at each others throats but when they were it was way more entertaining for him.

John always had a dumb joke ready but Alexei managed to always have a weirder one. Half the time, they would argue about whether Kramer vs Kramer was a Christmas movie or if John had browned the butter well enough for the banana bread.

“Why do you even eat potatoes like this?” Alexei would say, stabbing one with his fork “It is so dry, no soul.”

“You’re literally Russian dude?!!” John would shoot back his voice raising an octave.

“Russia has great food, you know my father-”

Bob was definitely not listening to the rest of that. But he would smile and finish his meal with a warmth in his heart and that’s all that mattered.

You and Bob would take your daily walks after dinner.

The city was quieter at night.

Well, New York never really was, but it was quieter in the way Bob liked. Just a low rumble of traffic in the distance and the occasional click of footsteps as you both aimlessly wandered.

Bob chuckled at your retelling of your siblings meeting Ava for the first time. His smile lingered even after you’d finished talking, it was a strange one. It felt like he was half-sincere and half-lost in thought. His steps slowed and he turned to you, “You’re one of my best friends, y’know, just thought I’d tell you.” said more like a question than a statement.

You smiled. “That’s why you’ve been looking constipated this entire walk?”

He huffed a laugh, but his face still has a serious look “I mean it. It’s not just because we have to live together or mission stuff. You’re always there for me even when I’ve been hard to be around.”

“Bob, you’ve never been hard to be around, ever.”

He didn’t respond right away. His jaw flexed and eyes fixed somewhere past your shoulder.

“I guess I-I just keep thinking” voice low “That I’m this ticking time bomb. Like the more time you guys spend with me, the quicker I’ll blow up a fuse and hurt you all.”

You were quiet for a second. Then you said, “You ever think that maybe we don’t need protecting from you? That having you around is so good that we’d be willing to keep the Void at bay forever? I would go through hundreds of rooms for you Robert, every damn day if I had to, I’m sure the others would too.”

You didn’t say anything else, and he stared at you for a moment before sputtering out that it was late and you both should head back. He really hoped you hadn’t noticed how red his ears were.

Bob thought that maybe you liked him the way he liked you.

But he decided to push silly thoughts like that away. You would have said that to everyone.

It wasn’t that Bob himself didn’t like you; he just felt as though pursuing you would be another Malaysia. He would somehow grip your light so tightly that it would burn only you, leaving him at the centre of yet another massacre. And Bob was far too kind, he cared for you far too much to doom you to a life of walking on eggshells.

He would get over you. And he knew just what to have to start his journey.

A sweet treat.

Bob didn’t plan on finding the bookstore.

He was walking to find a new dessert place, the serum left him with a serious sweet tooth.

Bob liked walking on Main Street. Sure, there was always a major risk of him literally destroying everyone in the city if the transdimensional being in him escaped but, the feeling off blending in and being normal was worth the risk.

He walked for another ten minutes before he saw it.

The bookstore that you were always raving about. You had begged the whole team to come with you, rambling on about the idea of a book club in preparation for the new Christopher Nolan film, but your pleading had been interrupted by Mel informing them all they had press to finish up.

He decided he’d go in and find you something, that should cheer you up.

Bob wandered into the store, trailing his fingers along the many books, stopping only when he'd collected too much dust for his nose to handle. It reminded him of a place he’d hidden out in once, years ago.

Different city.

Different Bob.

“You looking for anything specific?” came a voice.

He turned and saw her.

A short woman with long loose waves nestled into a bun, a pencil sticking out of her pocket and reading glasses hanging around her neck. She looked at him cheekily and something about the intensity of her gaze flustered him.

“I’m-I’m not really sure, I’m looking for a friend but I have no idea what she would want.” he replied honestly, scratching the back of his neck.

She smiled, “Those are the best kinds of searches.”

Their first conversation was short. She’d recommended some kind of fantasy novel.

He’d bought it and you were so happy that you spent the next two weeks singing Bob's praises to anyone and everyone.

That included Lily.

Bob came back the next week to pick something else out. And the week after that.

And each time, Lily was there with a new recommendation. With questions about what he liked, how he was doing, how you were doing.

Sometimes they talked for a minute.

Sometimes ten.

Bob never told her who he really was, nothing about the Thunderbolts stuff, though he was sure she knew.

Just said his name was Bob and that he was working on “getting his life together”.

She never pried. Never asked why his hands sometimes shook, or why his eyes would occasionally glow. She always spoke to him gently and laughed at his shitty attempts at jokes in a way that made him feel like maybe he was just a guy in a bookstore.

Someone normal.

One day, he decided to be brave, “You ever uh free for a coffee?” he'd asked, the words almost catching in his throat.

“As in to drink it? Or are you asking me out?” she looked surprised.

Shit, she looked like she was freaked out, he almost backed off right then, but he decided to push through. He nodded “Yeah yeah uh the second one.”

She studied his face - not judgmental, just thoughtful - “Okay, yeah sure, but be warned I’m coming in hot off the back of an awful relationship. Like the guy was Loki levels of out of his mind, I may go crawling back.” she joked.

Bob smiled.

“Here. Take my number.”

Once outside with her number tucked safely into his breast pocket, he took a moment to take in a breath.

He thought about you for a second, your smile, your voice and he felt guilty, but you didn’t like him. It was ok for him to move on and he was sure you’d support him putting himself out there.

Right?

Phase 3

Phase 3 was not feeling as easy as you’d predicted it would be.

Not thinking of Bob was difficult. He engulfed your every thought, every second of the day seemed to stretch out further than you thought possible when you worked on any task that didn’t include Bob.

Even sleep didn’t offer a break.

In your dream, Bob appeared doe-eyed, curls falling over his face and his skin glowing. Your hands were roaming his body and his breath was hot against the shell of your ear. He was calm and collected, his movements slow as he cradled you tightly to his chest.

His head turned to you, his lips inching closer to your face and then all at once pressed against yours. His head angled to the right to swipe his tongue against your bottom lip, the action causing you to gasp and heat to bloom in your chest.

As your hands began to reach for his face, they fell through, jolting you awake. Your bed cushioning your movements didn’t stop your face from hitting the side of the bed frame.

You’d never made out with anyone before, so how the hell did the kiss feel so real.

“What the hell?”

Huffing you drag yourself to the bathroom, you find Bucky there brushing his teeth. You say nothing to greet him and the strangeness of your silence isn’t lost on him.

He offers a smile as he makes his way out of your shared space, he’ll bother you later once he brings back a red velvet from the store near his and Steve’s old place in Brooklyn.

Remind yourself to get an electric toothbrush, this one is struggling to withstand the force of your anger as you scrape each tooth with all of your strength.

You were doing so well to not fall back into thinking of Bob.

So why did this dream have to screw everything up?

By the time you’re done damaging your enamel it’s time for another hellish sparring session with John.

Good Lord, you were not in the mood.

You unwillingly tread down to the gym, smelling the clinical bleach mats before you round the corner.

The gym always smelled like sweat, chemical cleaner, and testosterone — basically John's cologne. You pushed the door open hard, making it slam against the frame making John jump from the noise and trip over the weight in front of him. Wait did that weight say 2000kg holy shit-

“What crawled up your ass?” he barked, startled but recovering quickly.

“Nothing. Just thought I’d get a bit of payback. You ready?” He smirked.

The mat is thick beneath your bare feet, cold and spongy. Walker stands a few feet away, stretching out his legs, the muscles in his arms rolling under his shirt. For someone so impossibly strong he sure was wirey looking.

Captain America, my ass. You reminded yourself he had limits — he had to.

You both began circling each other, and a quick step to each side had you both falling into a familiar rhythm.

“You know he came by asking for you, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything.” you swing your fist, miming a punch, daring him to act.

Walker was always too trigger happy for his own good.

He would always bite.

“Y’know its pretty obvious to everyone include Bob that you’re distancing yourself from just him,” he said, launching at you with flurry of jabs. You dodged most, but he caught your shoulder and stomach hard.

Jesus that hurt, you deserved an extra matcha latte for lunch as a reward.

“Yeah? Well, he’s the one glued to his girlfriend’s side every hour of the day.” you step back with your arms up “I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

He raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing “If you don’t like him, then why would it—”

“Oh my God, John,” you cut him off, voice tight  “Everyone knows. I know Bob knows I like him. I don’t understand what people want from me! I’ve been kind. I talk to her, I talk to him. I haven’t said anything mean or snarky, I’m not making a scene. If they’re in the room, I don’t disappear... I’m trying.”

Your breathing was heavy and you could feel the pressure rising behind your eyes. You weren't prone to emotional outbursts and John felt like he’d provoked you without reason.

“What else am I supposed to do?” you whispered.

John looked like he was going to say something — probably a joke, probably one of his usual offhand lines to break the tension.

But he didn’t.

“I see him with her and it really hurts.”  your arms dropped and you began to take the next few of his punches half-heartedly. You weren’t fighting back anymore.

Just standing there, letting the blows land and getting back up like clockwork.

“I-I can’t do this. I’m sorry”

You turn away, walking over to the wall pressing your forehead gently against the cool panelling. It’s the only thing that you could think to do to ground you. John comes up behind you, placing his hand on the top of your back, patting it like he would do to his son when he was helping him drift off to sleep.

John spoke, his tone gentler than usual.

“How do you always eat my hits like that?” he asks “You sure you’re not a mutant or something?”

You half-laughed, half-sighed, “If I was, I wouldn’t be a B-grade superhero like Variety said.”

He snorted behind you “And you believe the opinion of the magazine that made me ride my shield like a horse?”

You both laugh. John stands there with you until you calm down.

He tells you to clean up and head back upstairs, he says he doesn’t need you so stressed out so close to you guys’ next mission.

As you make your way up to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle you pass the library, freezing when you see two familiar figures sitting side by side on the floor.

Their arms are fitted so tightly next to one another, they look like their melting into each other. Lily reaches out and nudges a stray curl back behind Bob’s ear.

You feel sick.

Bob’s cheeks flush a little, and he gives her a sheepish grin and you make the mistake of scuffing your slippers across the floor in an attempt to walk away. They both look at you wide eyed, like they’d been caught doing something wrong.

“Hey guys” your voice gentle “Looks like a tornado flew through here, what you up to?” you’re hoping the fake texan twang is enough for them to not see the obvious awkwardness on your face.

Bob giggles and she explains their plan to find the ultimate saag paneer recipe, both finishing the others thoughts and animatedly nudging each other when they think the other ones wrong.

You decide that the scene is too intimate and too domestic and you need to run away.

Bidding them goodbye with a wide smile you all but run past the kitchen to go to your room and stew in your jealousy.

While Lily continues to argue the importance of the four forms of taste Bob swallows hard, his gaze distracted and brows slowly knotting together.

Something seriously doesn’t make sense with you.

You sit with your knees up on your bed, the soft glow from your bedside lamp casts shadows across the room. You make shapes with your hands and play with the shadows, your headphones are playing something by Lorde that makes you feel worse somehow.

That’s a first.

The door to the bathroom slowly cracks open, Ava’s brown curls visible as she inches her way in as quietly as possible.

“I’m awake y’know.” you grin at her, she was so cute when she was trying to be sneaky.

She guffaws “Yeah I k-knew.”

You stare at her accusingly with your brow raised.

“Ok so I thought you were asleep, so what? You can tell me off later once you tell me why you flooded your room on purpose.”

“I plead the fifth.” your expression completely deadpan.

“We’re both English! That doesn’t work.” she laughs out, not angrily but with the same tone a mother would with her child.

“Technically-“

She stops you “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the flying boy that you’ve been pining over?”

“That’s a low blow c’mon.” your pout is unintentional, you love Ava but you do not need to think about him even more after the day you’ve had, it would ruin the plan even more than it already had.

“Can we just drop the topic of Bob and just hang out? Since you’ve already snuck your way into my room”, she stills for a moment and without warning jumps onto your bed and grabs your waist. With her head in your lap you begin to thread your fingers through her scalp.

She mumbles something, half of her mouth buried in the plush fabric of your pyjamas. You’re sure it’s something about the way you keep the room way too cold for comfort.

This is nice you think.

Maybe you don’t need just Bob after all.

Phase 4

Never mind maybe you do.

Bob seems to struggle less and less with the concept of never seeing you around, he fills his time with Lily and her life. You think he seems to fit in fine with her spin classes and zoo dates. Not that there’s anything wrong with exercise and animals.

It isn’t your life, Bob isn’t your boyfriend and he would never want to be.

Ouch.

Maybe you really were on the cusp of really becoming invisible to him.

Just like you wanted?

Whatever, you didn’t have time to think about Project Get Over Bob anyway, Valentina had scheduled a gala to honour the ‘ex- Avengers’ as she called them. None of you were happy with the phrasing and you were sure Sam would talk you, Buck, and Joaqins ear off when you met up later tonight.

Your dress had been fitted a month or two before and Mel had scheduled a glam team for everyone so you go through the first half of the day abnormally relaxed.

You, Yelena, John and Alexei make your way downstairs first. You hear someone mumble about there not being enough space for everyone in the car but the air is so cold and bitter they’re lucky your ears haven’t frozen off by the time you’re off to the venue.

Once there, you struggle to get the train of your dress to stop sticking to the bottom of your heel, you curse loud enough for Alexei to notice and carry you out like a doll.

“Your dress ok my little firecracker?”

“Yeah thanks Lexei. You guys go ahead, I wanna go to the bathroom before heading in”

He nods and turns around, walking towards the others and wrapping his arms around them, binding them to himself as he rushes them in.

As you finally look up at the scene in front of you, your breath stutters.

The building in front of you was immense.

The lights perched about the balcony and grounds are blinding, and you grip the train of your dress in an attempt to calm your nerves. You focus on the sound of constant chatter and the feeling of the pebbled walkway under your heels.

Before your time with the team, you’d worked as a paralegal with the Govenor of New York. It was thankless but looked great on your Linkedin. You hadn’t figured out how to write Avenger in the current jobs section without seeming like an idiot yet. Galas were a common part of your job so you weren’t worried about having to network.

No what you were nervous about was keeping your cool around Bob. You’re sure that seeing him in a suit would kill you.

Now, back from the bathroom you feel a lot lighter and not just physically.

“You’re looking very foxy tonight lady.” without hesitation you reach out behind you to hit Joaqin.

“Why’d you say the same thing to me at every event dumbass.” the man gives you a bone crushing hug and another pair of arms snake around you while he squeezes.

“Buck been training you too hard or something? You look tired.” Sam and Joaqin really were tied at the hip recently, maybe Bob’s comment about them reminding him of Tina and Tina was right.

Wait, get yourself together, no more Bob!

You talk to the both of them for around twenty minutes before you're all ushered into the main room. You move effortlessly between the hoards of investors, senators and random people that you really don’t know, spitting out jokes and making conversation that the others on your team definitely don’t understand. You forget they didn't have to go full corporate for their previous day jobs.

God bless your internship at EY.

As you make your way over to the buffet, a voice calls out your name, you turn and see your friend Finley. He’d worked on a campaign with you a few years back.

You missed being less busy, even the stress of a political campaign was quieter than the constant press and training that had taken over your life. His sudden appearance was a welcome distraction.

“Look at you,” he said, pulling back to take you in “Avenger, huh? Still can’t believe you went from filing out my paperwork to fighting eldritch horrors.”

“Hey it’s not my fault you were so bad at your job.”

 You both laughed and decided to find a nook to reminise about your awful pay and long nights together.

Your conversation was cut short when your phone buzzed in your clutch. A quick glance at the screen showed Bob was calling you.

You swipe the notification without a second thought.

You tell youself to remember the plan.

But you feel it suddenly, like someone is burning the side of your head with a lighter. What the hell?

When you look to your left, you see him.

Bob stands a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

His suit is black, tailored so precisely it looks painted onto him. The jacket hugs the top of his shoulders so deliciously, when he moves the fabric pulls just enough to remind you that he actually does have muscles and it isn't just rainbows/kittens under there. His shirt was crisp white, the contrast against his tan skin made your throat dry.

But it’s his face that really leaves you breathless.

His heavy brow bone, sharp and prominent, is even more pronounced under the chandelier lights. Shadows pooled in the hollows of his brow, making his already intense features twice as alluring. And his eyes—

God, his eyes.

Wait he looks really pissed.

His usually kind blue eyes looked unsettling, flashing wisps of black and gold. Did Bob always look like he was wearing eyeshadow or was it just today?

His gaze flicks from your face to your phone, then back.

He’d seen you ignore the call.

For a second, you brace waiting for him to say something, to call you out right there and then. But instead, Bob just… turns away but not before you see something raw flicker across his face, you just cant figure out what.

You text him a few times, a flurry of messages explaining you were in the middle of something important and were going to call him back, you promise.

Bob just replies with a thumbs up and tells you not to worry about it.

That somehow makes you feel worse than if he'd told you off.

The rest of the evening is fine, you have fun stuffing your face with courgette tarts but are worried about what to do when you get home. You’re leaving for Ulaanbaatar tomorrow morning and really don’t want to leave on a bad note.

The team was beat by the time the night was over, you all piled into your cabs and single-filed your way up to your rooms.

You’re two steps into yours when Bob lightly pushes his way in before the door closes.

“Hey”

His voice soft.

You turn, and there he is, still in that damn suit, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Was he trying to make you pass out on purpose? His eyes are tired, not angry. It makes you feel guilty, you’d have prefered him to be angry.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” he states.

Not an accusation.

Just a fact.

You swallow. “I’ve been busy. The mission prep—”

“Don’t.” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t do that. Not with me.”

You want to look away, but his gaze is so strong it feels like the room is falling away and all you can see is him.

“You haven’t hung out with me in weeks.” he says “You stopped eating breakfast with me, you did a U-turn in the hallway when you saw me last week and I know that you hate pottery so whats going on?” a pause, he looks nervous “Did I do something?”

Your chest aches “No. It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. How could you explain? That every time you saw him with Lily, laughing at some joke you weren’t part of, it felt like he was ripping your heart out with his bare hands. That you were supposed to be over him, but you weren’t, and it was eating you alive?

Before you can force out another lie, Bob’s breath hitches. He can see the cogs turning in your head, attempting to lie to him again.

Wait, was the air in the room becoming thicker or was it the stress of the situation settling into your body?

His hands clenches. His pupils dilate—too wide, too gold.

Gold? Shit.

“Bob—” You step forward, but he staggers back, not wanting to touch you, bracing himself against the wall. His knuckles turning white where they grip the plaster, cracks begin to form under his palm.

That was not good.

“I don’t understand what the fuck your problem is! You go f-from telling me you aren’t avoiding me and that we’re such great friends to complete silence. I just, I don’t know what I did to make you upset with me.” his voice tapers off as he lowers his hands from the wall, the anger and frustration leaving his body only to be replaced with the sinking feeling of dread that maybe you really didn’t care for him.

“Hey, sweetheart I think we should both just calm down I’ll-“

“NO, no I won’t, I refuse to be ignored. We’ve devoted ourselves to you, don’t you see that!!” his voice is hoarse and it sounds as if all three of them, Void, Sentry and, Bob are shouting at you.

His body begins shaking and before you can even think you and Bob are completely gripped by the inky black tendrils of the Void.

The Void swallows you whole.

You land on your knees in a familiar place.

“No, no, not here, not again” you whine.

Maria Hill stands to your left, frozen in time.

You missed her, you missed her more than anything.

But you refused to live through it again, you worked so hard to come to terms with that day and it was a low blow for him to show you the room that you’d already worked so hard to leave a year before.

The scene changes and she’s there, right in front of you, bleeding out on the concrete.

Again.

And again.

“You like pulling cheap shots every time you force me to come here?” you scoff, sure the place scares you, but you calm yourself when you remember that Bob is stronger than whatever torture the Void is willing to put you through.

He’ll be here, you know he will.

“It worked on you last time, what’s the harm with trying twice?” a static-like voice whispers out from behind you.

The dark figure steps out in front of you, gripping your arm so tightly you can feel your muscle and bone press grind together. Despite the pain, you can feel him.

Feel Bob.

His presence calms you enough to stop struggling with the vice like force on your body.

You reach out, holding his face. The action angers him. You can’t see him but feel his features curl into a snarl.

“You think that a pathetic fucking human being like you can touch me or calm him? You think he dreams of you or thinks of you even a fraction of the amount you do.” his grip tightens even futher.

“Even the team, they think you’re dead weight, they tolerate you. Nothing more”

Suddenly Bob appears and he’s not alone.

He’s got an arm around Lily, whispering something in her ear and kissing her so deeply it feels innapropriate to observe.

You try to look away but his hand, Bob’s hand, grips your jaw leaving you unable to turn your head.

The Void purrs, his tone amused "He pities you and wants your attention because he’s bored, once he has her do you think he’ll care? He’s too kind to tell you to fuck off"

The Void senses your sudden hurt and latches on.

Digging deeper, he flashes every humiliating memory of yours—failed training sessions, missions where you froze and fucked up, anything that would make you hurt. "You’re a placeholder," he hisses, "a charity case. And the worst part? You know it." 

The shame burns so deep you can’t breathe, can’t think, and as you begin to find your voice to tell him that you didn’t care and he’d had misjudged your reaction, the Void delivers a final blow.

His face flickers to resemble Bob "You really thought I could ever want you?" It’s so cruel and something within you is so caught off guard at the sight of Bob that you believe him.

The Void’s glee is palpable.

And then a voice cuts through the dark.

“Enough”

Bob.

Your Bob.

He stands at the edge of the nightmare, his eyes are blown open and wild, his hands clenched like he’s holding up the weight of the world

The midnight world suddenly splinters.

You wake up and the room is shaking, no wait, the room isnt shaking its you.

Bob’s crouched in front of you, his face concerned and he cradles your head in his arms “I didn’t—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your pain and fear is so strong you feel like you could collapse. You want to run away and scream, call out to everyone to take you away and lock you up somewhere that it couldn’t find you.

But you don’t dwell on those feelings, you know Bob, he must be devestated that he pulled you into the Void.

Your tone is soft as you push youself up “Hey, hey look at me. It wasn’t your fault, how were you supposed to know the big guy would come out so quickly.”

“But I let him hurt you-”

You stop him “Don’t, don’t say anything. Look we need to take you to the med bay now j-just don’t say anything please, just don’t.”

Bob stares at you—hurt, guilty, devastated—but he doesn’t protest.

You both hobble down to the med bay in silence and you cant help but wonder if he remembered what you both had been speaking about before or your hidden shame.

You really hope he hadn’t.

You’d called Yelena down on your way, telling her the other guy had come out to play for a bit and Bob was shaken up. She’d raced down as quickly as she could to relieve you of your babysitting duty.

Outside of the med bay, you speak to her in hushed tones while balancing the entire weight of your body on her, exhaustion setting in.

“You ok?” she strokes your hair as you tremble.

“Yeah I just, I need sleep.” she doesn’t press you for answers and you’re grateful. One small kiss to her head and you decide you’re ready to leave.

You glance back at Bob through the door, he’s already looking at you, pensive. You smile reassuringly and can visibly see his shoulders slump down in relief.

You leave but not after throwing another gummy smile and a thumbs up at the man.

The morning comes too soon, you’re still upset from the events of the night, but that doesn’t mean you can just shirk your responsibilities.

You’re packed and out the door before the sun fully rises, meeting John and Alexei downstairs. They don’t ask why your hands won’t stop shaking or why your eyes are so bloodshot.

As the engines hum to life, you glance back at the Tower one last time.

Project Get Over Bob was a complete bust.

Hey guys, hope that this chapter has you guy’s as excited as I am to continue on to the final part of this fic! Sorry for not adding a taglist to this fic but there were a lot of replies and I didn’t think I could get through them!

If you have any tips for fic writing pls follow me I’m always looking to improve.

I hope the writing style isn’t too different, I’m still trying to find my style and footing when it comes to this stuff!

The next chapter will be filled with plenty of comfort and maybe something a bit cheekier if you catch my drift!

[teaboot]

Kinda gotta admire the tiktok instagram cottagecore tradwife hoes a little bit.

Like. THEY know that the perfect pretty obedient natural-makeup gently-coiffed rural June Cleaver, barefoot-and-pregnant in a sweet little peasant dress, baking fresh bread24-7 housewife doesn't exist.

They KNOW she doesn't exist. They know she CAN'T exist- that nobody can maintain that façade without burning out eventually-

but they also know that the political divide between men and women is deeper than ever in North America, that men as a demographic are getting increasingly angry and conservative and lonely (fuck off terfs and radfems i can sense your bioessentialism coming), and that women aren't legally beholden to them anymore.

This is one of the first generations in North America where women aren't entirely reliant on finding a husband and keeping him happy to survive, to hold a bank account or live apart from their parents, and so what men are dealing with is several hundred years of being told that REAL men have hot fuckable agreeable wives and...a present reality where nobody is lining up to apply for that position.

So what these shills have done- and they ARE shills- is that they've seen that divide, that niche that isn't being filled, that role that's so unpleasant but so desired- and they've constructed a caricature for profit.

Women aren't naturally more gentle, or parental, or submissive. Women aren't naturally, effortlessly smooth and soft and hairless and desiring of simple tasks to fill their time and a big, strong provider to protect them.

But generations of marketing and media have told us it's POSSIBLE, if not for those pesky man-hating feminist libs and their oversensitive woke culture lashing out at Normal Folks for no good reason.

Like- they're selling themselves, the characters they're playing, as an IMAGE, as a FANTASY, and they rely on people BELIEVING in that fantasy to keep the money rolling in.

The people who buy into it sincerely, the women who give up their degrees and careers and financial freedom for this "simple, peaceful life" we ALL desire in some form, away from stress and technology and horrible things on the news... only to get trapped with six children and a partner with all the power who could up and strand them at any moment... they're just collateral.

Like, "Shame it didn't work out for you, have you tried losing weight and trying harder? Maybe some extra Adult Time? He wouldn't have to chase someone younger and prettier if you'd just take care of yourself and put out more."

I on't hate this faux-humble faux-simple wannabe-amish bullshit just because I grew up rural and know it's fucking stupid, hard work and blood and shit and cow piss and placement in the rain kinda crap.

I ALSO hate it because these women are straight-up class traitors, selling off not just their own image as people, but everyone else's, just to make some paper on a grift.

You know Marie Antoinette used to wear sweet little milkmaid-style dresses and play with lambs in the field, just like the poors?

Never mind that she OWNED the land, and the field, and the people, the cute little frocks, and didn't help the sheep birth, or bury the dead premies, or slaughter for meat, or fight off wolves and dogs, ferrets and foxes and rats with a stick in the winter.

It was just fashionable to pretend.

Sweet and coquettish and Quaint.

THAT is why I hate that shit, and THAT is why I give a fuck.

[sixeyesonathiel]

the spoils of sanctity

pairing — holy knight gojo x demon princess reader

cw: heavy dubcon, noncon elements, yandere themes, power imbalance, explicit sexual content (oral sex—forced fellatio, penetrative sex—vaginal, tail play, cock slapping, clit slapping, nipple play, edging, multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding kink, cervix penetration, sex positions—kneeling oral, bent-over doggy style, missionary with hips tilted, folded missionary, face-down doggy, pinned missionary, cowgirl), brat taming, dacryphilia, degradation/humiliation, corruption/dumbification, mind break, forced submission, public humiliation mentions, restraint/bondage (sashes, choker enchantment), asphyxiation (throat squeezing during oral), size kink, sadism, perverted behavior, religious sacrilege (mock prayers, holy/demonic themes), pseudo-marital dynamics (trophy wife as a literal prized possession), 18+ only, minors DNI. 10k+ wc.

a/n : damn. i may have written satoru here a lil too freaky.

the war had torn the world apart, kingdoms reduced to ash and bone, and satoru, the holy knight, stood as its shining fucking savior. the people wept at his feet, praising his blessed sword, his sanctified armor, his pure goddamn soul. they thought he’d dragged you—the demon princess, half-human spawn of filth and pride—back to the palace to purge the evil from your veins. to correct you. to save the world from your clawed, defiant existence.

they were wrong.

so fucking wrong.

behind the palace walls, he wasn’t saving shit. he was breaking you. claiming you. turning you into his collared little trophy wife, a prize he’d won with blood and steel. the world saw mercy in his grip on your leash. you saw the truth: a perverted freak who got off on your humiliation, who wanted to fuck the humanity into your demon half until you cracked.

his private chambers smelled like wax and sin, the air thick with the flicker of sanctified gold candles lining the walls. their light danced over the stone, over the tattered remains of your finery—black silk shredded at the thighs, clinging to your sweat-slick skin like a second hide. your wrists burned where the ceremonial sashes bit into them, the same ones that had once bound saints, now twisted to tether you to the floor. he’d repurposed them with a smirk, his big hands tugging the knots tight, like he was wrapping a fucking gift.

satoru loomed over you, all white hair and sharp blue eyes, his armor shed to reveal the taut muscle beneath a thin tunic. holy knight, my ass. he looked like a predator playing dress-up, and you were the prey he’d been salivating over since the battlefield. your tail twitched behind you, black and forked, a little rebellion against the restraints. he noticed. of course he fucking noticed.

“still got some fight in you, huh?” his voice was low, mocking, as he crouched down, fingers brushing the edge of your jaw. “thought i’d beaten that out of you by now, princess.”

you bared your teeth, a snarl ripping from your throat. “i’ll claw your fucking eyes out, you sanctimonious prick.”

he laughed—deep, filthy, and it made your stomach twist in a way you hated. “oh, i’d love to see you try. but first—” he reached into a velvet pouch at his hip, pulling out the choker. it glowed faintly, a thin band of silver etched with runes, pulsing with some holy enchantment that made your skin crawl. “—let’s get you dressed up proper.”

you jerked back, but the sashes held firm, yanking a hiss from your lips. “don’t you fucking dare—”

too late. his hands were fast, wrapping the choker around your throat, the clasp clicking shut with a sound that echoed in your skull. the enchantment hit instantly—your demonic power dulled, a heavy fog settling over the fire in your veins. but that wasn’t the worst part. no, the worst part was the way it fucking glowed, a soft pulse of light that brightened when your body betrayed you. and it was already flickering, damn it, because his fingers lingered on your neck, brushing the sensitive skin there, and you couldn’t stop the heat pooling low in your gut.

he stepped back, tilting his head like he was admiring a painting. “look at that glow, princess. you’re already begging—and i haven’t even touched you.”

“fuck you,” you spat, cheeks burning as the choker pulsed brighter. you hated it—hated him—hated the way your thighs clenched under his stare.

“oh, i will.” he grinned, all teeth and perversion, then grabbed your tail in one swift yank. the jolt shot through you like lightning, a gasp tearing out before you could stop it. your body arched, writhing against the sashes, and he tightened his grip, tugging just hard enough to make you squirm. “sensitive there, huh? perfect.”

you wanted to rip his throat out. instead, you glared, panting, the choker glowing like a fucking beacon. he watched it pulse, his eyes darkening with something sick and hungry, and then he moved. one arm slid under your back, the other under your knees, hoisting you up bridal-style like some twisted mockery of a wedding night. your tail lashed against his chest, but he just chuckled, carrying you across the room with infuriating ease.

“put me down, you bastard—” your words cut off as he dropped you, not gently, onto your knees. the stone bit into your skin, cold and unforgiving, and you glared up at him, chest heaving.

he didn’t say a word. just smirked, stepping back to grab something from the edge of the room—a mirror, tall and angled, dragging it over until it faced you dead-on. your reflection stared back: disheveled, flushed, the choker glowing like a neon fucking sign.

the candles flickered as he adjusted the mirror, the scrape of its base against the floor loud in the tense silence. you stayed on your knees, the sashes still binding your wrists behind you, your tail flicking uselessly against the stone. every muscle screamed to lunge at him, to sink your claws into that smug face, but the choker’s enchantment weighed you down, dulling your strength to something pitifully human. it pissed you off. he pissed you off. and yet, your body was buzzing, the heat from his touch still lingering, the choker’s glow a constant reminder of how fucked you were.

he didn’t rush. he savored it, peeling off his tunic slow enough to make you twitch with impatience, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the faint scars crisscrossing his skin—proof he wasn’t just some prissy knight playing hero. he was a fighter, a killer, and now he was your goddamn captor. the pants came next, sliding down his hips, and you couldn’t help it—your eyes flicked to the bulge straining his undercloth, thick and heavy, and the choker pulsed brighter. fuck. he caught it, of course, his grin widening as he stepped closer, cock springing free when he shoved the fabric down.

“like what you see, princess?” he taunted, fisting himself lazily, the tip already glistening. “don’t worry, you’ll get a real good taste.”

you snarled, baring your teeth again. “i’d rather choke on glass.”

“cute.” he closed the distance, towering over you, the mirror framing the whole filthy scene—your knees on the stone, his shadow swallowing you whole. “but you’re gonna choke on this instead.”

you fought the urge to vomit, glaring up, defiance blazing in your chest, lips sealed tight, jaw clenched. no fucking way you were giving him this. not without a fight.

“open up,” he said, voice all smooth mockery, like he was coaxing a stray dog. “don’t make me ask twice, princess.”

“make me,” you shot back, flashing your fangs, a bratty snarl curling your lips. your tail flicked behind you, smacking the floor, and his eyes gleamed—dark, perverted, like he’d been waiting for that exact answer.

“oh, i will,” he said, and he moved—fast as hell. one hand clamped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open just enough, and the other swung his cock down, slapping it against your cheek with a wet, humiliating smack. your head jerked, a snarl caught in your throat, and the choker flared bright, glowing like a fucking spotlight in the mirror.

he did it again—harder, the head smearing pre-cum across your skin, the sound echoing sharp and filthy. your eyes watered, not from pain but from the sheer rage boiling up, tears welling up as you glared, unblinking, refusing to let them fall.

“look at that,” he purred, leaning down, breath hot against your ear. “tears already? didn’t know demons could get so worked up.” his thumb brushed the corner of your eye, smearing the dampness, and you snapped your teeth at him, missing by an inch. he laughed—low, nasty, and it made your stomach twist.

“you’re not a princess anymore,” he growled, straightening up, fisting his cock right in front of you. “you’re my wife. say it.”

“fuck. you,” you hissed, voice dripping venom, tears brimming but holding, your glare cutting through the haze. the choker glowed brighter, betraying the heat pooling low in your gut, and he grinned, all teeth and sick delight.

“wrong answer,” he said, and then he shoved himself in—no warning, no buildup, just the thick, hot length of him filling your mouth, hitting the back of your throat so fast you gagged hard. your eyes widened, tears welling hotter, stinging as you fought to breathe, your throat spasming around him. he groaned, deep and guttural, like it was the best fucking thing he’d ever felt, and his hand fisted in your hair, yanking the sash tied there, pulling tight enough to make your scalp burn.

“that’s it,” he grunted, hips rocking slow at first, dragging it out, letting you feel every inch. “take it, you nasty demon slut. choke on your holy knight.”

you did—fuck, you couldn’t stop it. your throat clenched, spit dripping down your chin, and every gag made him thrust deeper, harder, picking up speed until your head spun. the tears wouldn’t stay back now, pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you glared through them, locking onto his face—his smug, perverted grin, the way his blue eyes drank in every twitch, every flinch. he slid his free hand down, fingers wrapping around your throat, pressing the choker into your skin, cutting off your air just enough to make your chest tighten.

“can’t breathe, huh?” he cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy as he squeezed tighter, fucking your throat with a rhythm that left you dizzy. “poor little half-breed, choking on my cock. just relax—let it happen. i’ll take care of you.”

you gagged again, harder, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, and the tears brimmed over, not falling yet, just sitting there, heavy and hot, as you glared up at him, defiant even with your air gone. your tail lashed out, smacking his thigh, and he tightened his grip, cutting off more, his thumb stroking the glowing choker like it was a toy.

“keep fighting,” he rasped, voice rough with lust, hips snapping faster. “makes it better when you break. look at those eyes—fuck, you’re gorgeous like this, all teary and pissed.”

your lungs burned, your throat raw, every thrust making you gag louder, wetter, until your vision swam. he talked you through it, nasty and low—“breathe when i let you, slut. yeah, just like that, gag on it, let me feel that throat”—and you hated how your body reacted, hated the slick pooling between your thighs, the choker pulsing wild and bright like a damn beacon. he groaned again, louder, his grip on your hair tightening, and then he pushed deeper—nose pressed to his pelvis, air completely gone, holding you there as your throat spasmed helplessly.

“fuck, yes,” he growled, watching your eyes, the tears trembling but not spilling, your glare still burning through the haze. “look at you, choking so pretty. holy salvation’s too much for you, huh?”

you wanted to claw his face off. wanted to scream, bite, anything—but all you could do was glare, tears welling thicker, chest heaving as he finally eased up, pulling back just enough to let you suck in a ragged, desperate breath. spit strung from your lips to his cock, and he smirked, wiping it with his thumb, smearing it across your cheek.

“aw, poor thing,” he said, sarcastic as hell, when you coughed, gasping, throat wrecked. “can’t take it? too bad—i’m not done.” he shoved back in, slower this time, dragging it out, letting you feel every inch as he fucked your mouth again, hand still on your throat, squeezing light then hard, playing with your air like a game. “cry for me, princess. let me see those tears fall.”

they didn’t—fuck him, you wouldn’t let them to—but they sat there, heavy and defiant, as you gagged and glared, the choker glowing so bright it lit up the mirror behind you. your reflection showed it all: your wrecked face, his cock stretching your lips, the sashes binding you tight. his breaths grew ragged, his thrusts sloppy, and then he came—hot, thick, spilling down your throat in pulses you couldn’t escape. he held you there, choking you through it, forcing you to swallow every drop, his fingers digging into your neck as he groaned, long and filthy.

“good girl,” he purred, pulling out slow, a string of spit and cum connecting your lips to his tip. “look at you, all messy and fucked out.” he wiped your mouth with his hand, smearing it more, and you coughed, gasping, the taste of him bitter and overwhelming. your eyes burned, tears still welling but not falling, and you glared up, chest heaving, tail twitching uselessly behind you.

he didn’t give you a second to recover—just hauled you up by the arms, your legs wobbling, weak from kneeling, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack. your tail dangled against his back, smacking him weakly, and the mirror caught it: your flushed, teary-eyed glare, his smug grin, the choker still glowing faintly as he carried you off, ready to break you more.

the room spun as he carried you, the candles flickering low, wax dripping onto the stone like little tears he couldn’t wring from you. your throat ached, raw and bruised, spit and cum still slick on your chin, and those damn tears sat heavy in your eyes, stinging but stubborn, refusing to spill.

your tail flicked against his back, a weak protest he ignored, and your wrists burned where the sashes dug in, your body buzzing with rage and something darker—something the choker wouldn’t let you hide. he crossed the room in long strides, the mirror looming ahead, and then he dropped you—hard—onto your knees, the stone biting into your skin. you hissed, tail lashing out to smack his leg, and he laughed, kicking your thighs apart with his boot, setting you up for the next round.

the mirror threw it all back at you—your knees pressed into the cold stone, your flushed face staring back, hair wild, the choker glowing like a fucking spotlight around your throat. your tattered silk hung off you in shreds, barely covering shit, and satoru loomed behind you, all muscle and menace, his tunic long gone, scars crisscrossing his chest like some holy warrior’s badge. but there was nothing holy about the way his hands slid down to grip your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, or the way he tore the silk aside with one rough yank, exposing your ass and the dripping mess between your legs. the air hit your skin, sharp and humiliating, and he groaned low in his throat, like he’d just unwrapped a goddamn present he couldn’t wait to ruin.

“look at that,” he muttered, voice crude and thick, one hand sliding up to grab your tail, yanking it hard enough to make you yelp. the jolt shot through you, your body jerking, and tears welled up fast, hot and heavy in your eyes as you glared at him in the mirror. “already soaked for me, huh? some fucking demon princess you are—dripping like a cheap whore. you sure you’re not some lowly succubus?”

“die,” you snarled, twisting against his grip, claws scraping the stone, but he tightened his hold, pulling your tail up and back, forcing your hips to tilt for him. the choker pulsed violently, glowing brighter with every ounce of heat pooling in your core, and he laughed—dark, filthy, leaning down until his breath ghosted your ear, all teeth and sick delight.

“nah, you don’t get to talk back, slut,” he said, crude as hell for a holy knight, his free hand grabbing his cock—thick, heavy, way too fucking big—and lining it up, the head brushing your entrance, teasing, not pushing in yet. “you’re gonna thank me for this. every thrust—say it. say thank you, or i’ll leave you here, leaking and desperate.”

“like hell—” your words choked off as he slammed into you, no warning, no mercy, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. your scream bounced off the walls, raw and ragged, your body jolting forward until your palms slapped the stone, claws digging in hard. fuck, he was huge—too huge—stretching you so wide it burned, splitting you open, and the tears brimmed thicker, stinging your eyes as you glared at him, refusing to let them spill.

“say it,” he growled, hips snapping against your ass, the wet slap of skin on skin loud and obscene. he grabbed your tail tighter, using it like a goddamn leash to yank you back onto him, each thrust deeper, harder, his cock hitting spots that made your vision blur. “thank me, princess, or i’ll stop right now.”

you only gritted your teeth, stubborn, claws raking the floor, defiance burning even as your body shook under him. he stopped—dead still, cock buried so deep you felt it in your guts, the sudden lack of motion making you twitch, your breath hitching. “no? fine. then you don’t get shit,” he said, voice low and mocking, his hand sliding up to press your face against the mirror, smearing your cheek into the glass, your hot breath fogging it up.

“you bastard—” you started, but he pulled your tail again, sharp and punishing, and thrust once—hard, slow, dragging it out—before stopping again. your eyes fluttered, tears welling hotter, the choker glowing so bright it lit up your wrecked reflection—hair tangled, lips parted, those damn tears welling up as you glared.

“say it,” he repeated, voice dark and dangerous, his cock twitching inside you, teasing you with how full you felt. “or i’ll leave you like this, dripping and empty, with that pretty little choker telling everyone what a needy slut you are.”

you hated him—hated the smug tilt of his mouth, the way his blue eyes glittered with perverted glee, drinking in your teary glare like it was fucking wine. but your body was screaming, aching, and the words clawed their way out, bitter and sharp. “thank you,” you muttered, barely audible, venom dripping from every syllable.

“louder,” he snapped, thrusting again, slow and deliberate, dragging his massive cock out then back in, making you feel every inch. “mean it, or i’ll fuck you dry and leave you begging.”

“thank you!” you spat, louder, the humiliation burning hotter than the stretch, your tears trembling on the edge as you glared at him in the mirror. he grinned, satisfied, and then he let loose—fucking you rough and relentless, each thrust shoving you harder against the mirror, your cheek pressed tight, your breath fogging the glass in quick, desperate pants.

“look at you,” he purred, voice dripping with sarcasm, his hand sliding down to grip your hip while the other tugged your tail rhythmically, matching his brutal pace. “being good for once. my holy cock’s ruining you, huh? turning you into my perfect little cocksleeve.”

you couldn’t answer—couldn’t think—your body shaking under the onslaught, the choker glowing like a damn star as he pounded into you. the mirror showed it all: your ass bouncing with every thrust, your tail twitching in his grip, your flushed face with those tears welling up, defiant and furious. he leaned down, teeth grazing your shoulder, and his voice turned crude, nasty, a holy knight gone feral.

“what if your subjects saw you now, huh?” he growled, thrusting harder, his cock stretching you so wide it hurt in the best fucking way. “their proud little princess, ass up, choking on the dick of the knight who slayed her father for mercy. bet they’d love to see you crying for it—tears all pretty, pussy leaking like a tavern wench.”

“shut—up,” you gasped, voice breaking, the tears trembling heavier now, your glare sharpening even as your body betrayed you, clenching around him. he groaned at that, loud and filthy, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so you had to watch yourself—watch him fuck you into the stone.

“nah, i’d parade you like this,” he said, crude and gleeful, his cock slamming in so deep you swore you felt it in your throat. “show ‘em how their haughty little half-demon queen takes it—tail yanked, choker glowing, all teary-eyed and fucked stupid. they’d bow to me instead, huh?”

your claws dug into the stone, scraping hard, and you tried to crawl away—knees scraping, tail lashing, anything to escape the heat, the shame, the way his words made you throb despite yourself.

satoru only yanked your tail hard, pulling you back with a growl, his cock grinding in deep, holding you there. “oh no you don’t,” he said, breath hot against your neck, teeth nipping your skin. “you don’t get to run from this.”

he shifted, one hand sliding under you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing fast and rough while he fucked you, and the tears welled thicker, your glare burning through the mirror as your body tensed. “cry for me,” he muttered, voice low and nasty, his thrusts slowing but hitting harder, deeper, his dick so big it felt like it was rearranging you. “let me see those tears, princess—gimme something to jerk off to later.”

“fucking pervert,” you rasped, voice raw, the tears trembling on the edge, your hips bucking despite yourself as he worked you closer, the heat coiling tight, so fucking tight. he laughed, crude and dark, his fingers relentless, his cock grinding in just right, and you felt it—the edge, right there, your whole body shaking, the choker glowing blindingly bright.

“gonna cum already?” he taunted, leaning down, licking a stripe up your neck, his voice a filthy whisper. “thought you were tougher than that, demon slut. go on—thank me again. louder.”

“thank you,” you choked out, half-snarl, half-moan, the tears trembling, your glare locked on his smug face as your body started to unravel, the pleasure crashing in hard. but he stopped—pulled out completely, fingers off your clit, leaving you hanging right on the brink, a wrecked, shaking mess. your scream was pure frustration, raw and pissed, your tail lashing out to smack his chest, and he laughed, loud and filthy, stepping back to admire you—ass up, dripping, teary-eyed, and glaring like you’d kill him.

“not yet, princess,” he says, voice dark and promising, his cock still hard, glistening with your mess, bobbing as he shifts his weight. he leans in close, breath hot against your neck, and grabs your tail—fingers wrapping tight around its base, yanking it hard enough to make you yelp, tears pricking sharper, your hips jolting back into him.

“we’ve got more to play with,” he growls, crude and gleeful, tugging again, slower now, dragging you backward step by step, your knees scraping the stone as he pulls you toward the bed.

the mattress looms ahead, plush and draped in rich silks, and he shoves you forward, your palms sinking into its softness as you catch yourself, ass still raised, tail twitching in his grip. he releases it with a rough swat, climbing onto the bed, settling back against the headboard, legs spread wide, cock heavy and waiting. he pats his lap, grinning like a bastard, daring you to crawl up, his eyes glinting with perverse hunger.

“if you’re so strong,” he taunted, voice dripping with that sick, perverted glee, “ride me. show me that demon pride you’re so fucking proud of.”

you glared, chest heaving, the choker flickering as your blood boiled, those tears welling up hotter from the sheer audacity of him. no way you were letting this smug prick win easy—he wanted you to climb up and take him? fine. you’d ram it down his throat, make him choke on his own game.

with a snarl, you crawled onto the bed, the silk soft under your knees, and straddled him, your tail flicking behind you like a whip, smacking the mattress in a bratty little tantrum. he grinned, leaning back, one hand stroking his cock slow and deliberate—thick, massive, glistening with your slick from before—the other beckoning you closer like you were some pet he owned.

“go on, princess,” he said, eyes glinting with dark delight, drinking in your glare, the way your lashes fluttered with unshed tears. “prove you’re not just a trophy wife. show me what that half-demon filth can do.”

“watch me, you sanctimonious fuck,” you snapped, bratty as hell, planting your hands on his chest. your claws dug in, scratching red lines across his skin, and he hissed—pure pleasure, not pain, the sadistic freak.

you braced yourself, lining up over him, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance, and fuck, he was huge—bigger than you’d clocked up close, a monster that made your thighs tremble just looking at it. you started to lower, slow, cautious, feeling the stretch burn right away, and your breath hitched, a whimper slipping out before you could bite it back.

how did it even fit inside you earlier?

it was too much—way too fucking much. you got an inch down, maybe two, and the tears welled thicker, stinging your eyes as you glared at him, refusing to let them fall. the choker flared, bright and humiliating, glowing with every twitch of your hips. you forced yourself further, another inch, gasping as the stretch split you open, your claws raking his chest harder, leaving bloody streaks he didn’t even flinch at.

“pathetic, huh?” he muttered, voice low and crude, his eyes a sea of crazed blue, pupils blown wide, locked on your face—on the way your brows knit, your lips parted, the tears trembling as you struggled.

“shut up,” you hissed, panting, shifting your hips to try again. you sank lower, slow and stubborn, determined to take him, and a choked moan tore from your throat as he stretched you wider, deeper, the burn mixing with a heat you hated. your tail lashed wildly, smacking his thigh, and he grabbed it fast, yanking it just enough to make you jolt, the choker glowing brighter, your slick coating him as you squirmed.

you pushed down harder, forcing yourself, and then—fuck—he hit your cervix, the blunt pressure making you cry out, raw and sharp, your whole body shuddering as you finally bottomed out.

the tears spilled then, hot and unwilling, streaking down your cheeks as you glared at him, chest heaving, thighs shaking from the effort. you’d done it—three shaky, agonizing thrusts, riding him slow and deliberate, your claws digging into his chest for balance.

but it wasn’t enough for the impatient bastard beneath you—too slow, too fucking tentative—and he groaned, low and frustrated, his hands slamming onto your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

“fuck this,” he growled, crude and impatient, his holy knight patience cracking wide open. “you’re too damn slow, princess—thought you’d ride me like a queen, not whimper like a bitch.” before you could snap back, he took over—lifting you up like you weighed nothing, then slamming you back down onto his cock, full force, the head smashing your cervix again. your scream echoed, raw and desperate, tears streaming now as he filled you completely, the stretch so intense your vision blurred.

he didn’t stop—bounced you again, harder, using you like a fucking ragdoll, his grip iron-tight on your hips. up and down, fast and brutal, each drop driving him deeper, hitting your cervix every time, the wet slap of your ass against his thighs filling the room.

“that’s better,” he grunted, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every tear, every gasp, every twist of your expression like a perverted addict. “look at you—crying on my cock, princess. so fucking pretty when you break.”

“fuck—you—” you gasped, voice cracking with every thrust, your body shaking in his hands, the tears falling freely now, hot and bitter, your glare still burning through them. the choker glowed violently, a pulsing spotlight on how soaked you were, how your thighs clenched around him despite your snarls.

he laughed, dark and filthy, one hand sliding up to grab your tail again, tugging it in time with his rhythm.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he purred, bouncing you faster, his massive cock spearing you, the pressure on your cervix making your sobs louder, your tears streaming harder. “too big for that demon pride? too holy for your filthy little cunt? i’m cleansing you, slut—fucking all that evil right out of you.”

you couldn’t answer—couldn’t think—your claws scrabbling at his chest, leaving bloody trails he ignored, your sobs mixing with moans you hated yourself for. he kept going, watching you fall apart, his breaths ragged but controlled, like he was edging himself too—holding back just to savor how fucking gorgeous you looked, all teary and wrecked.

“cry harder,” he growled, crude and sadistic, his voice rough with lust. “gimme those tears—holy knights like me live for this shit, purifying dirty little demons with big, fat cocks.”

your legs started to give out, muscles trembling, and you slumped forward, chest slamming into his, face buried in his neck as he kept bouncing you, relentless, his dick grinding so deep it hurt in the best way.

“aw, poor thing,” he cooed, sarcastic as hell, one hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back to see your tear-streaked face. “can’t take it? too bad—i’m not even close to done.”

he slowed then, just a little, grinding you down onto him, letting you feel every inch of that massive length, his cock throbbing inside you as he watched you sob, tears dripping onto his chest.

“fuck, you’re too pretty like this,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice low and crude. “all teary and fucked out—makes me wanna cum, but nah, i’m a patient man. holy, right? gotta drag this out, keep cleansing you till you’re pure.”

you were shaking, sobbing, the heat coiling tight in your gut, every grind pushing you closer, your body betraying you as you rocked against him, chasing it despite the tears, the humiliation. he groaned, eyes fluttering, his own edge creeping up, but he held back, sadistic bastard that he was, loving how you looked too much to let it end.

“gonna cum, huh?” he taunted, voice a filthy whisper as he felt you tense, your sobs turning to desperate gasps. “go on—thank me and i might let you. say it, slut.”

“thank you,” you choked out, half-snarl, half-sob, tears streaming as your glare locked on his smug face, your body right there, teetering on the edge, so fucking close. but he stopped—yanked you off his cock completely, flipping you onto your back in one swift, brutal move, the silk soft against your spine as he pinned you down, his dick hovering over you, hard and dripping, his grin wide and wicked.

“not yet,” he said, voice dark and crude, his chest heaving as he edged himself too, holding back just to watch you writhe. “we’re switching it up, princess—got more filth to fuck out of you.”

he didn’t let you whine about the loss and denial—just yanked the sashes up, tying your wrists tight to the headboard, and forced your legs wide, turning the plush bed into some fucked-up altar. his bite mark throbbed on your shoulder, his cum smeared your skin, and he settled between your thighs, eyes gleaming with that perverted, possessive hunger, ready to wreck you all over again.

he knelt there, all holy knight bullshit on the surface—white hair catching the candlelight, sharp jaw set like he was about to pray—but his hands were pure filth, sliding up your thighs slow, thumbs brushing the slick mess he’d left behind, smearing it like he was marking you. your tail flicked, smacking his wrist in a bratty little rebellion, and he grabbed it fast, pinning it to the bed with a rough tsk, his fingers digging in just enough to sting.

“still got some fight, huh?” he said, voice low and mocking, spreading your legs wider until the stretch burned, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. “let’s see how long that lasts, you filthy demon whore.”

his fingers traced your folds, slow and teasing, dipping just barely into your entrance—light, shallow, not enough to do anything but make you twitch. the choker flickered, a faint glow pulsing with your heartbeat, and you hissed, tugging at the sashes, the knots biting your wrists.

“don’t you fucking dare—” you started, ultimately annoyed at his backtracking, but he cut you off, sliding one finger in—just one, knuckle-deep, curling it slow to graze that spot inside that made your hips jerk up, chasing more despite wanting something else.

“shh,” he murmured, crude and dark, his other hand pressing your stomach flat, pinning you still as he worked that finger in and out, agonizingly slow, letting the heat coil tight in your gut. “holy things take time, princess. you’re still a dirty fucking mess—gotta clean you up proper.”

you snarled, thrashing against the sashes, but he held you down, adding a second finger, stretching you just enough to make you gasp, then stopping—completely still, letting you clench around him, your breath hitching as you glared, tears welling up hot and heavy.

“please,” you spat, venom dripping, and he smirked, pulling his fingers out slow, dragging them along your walls until they slipped free, leaving you empty. your sob echoed, raw and pissed, and the choker flared brighter, slick dripping down your thighs as you bucked your hips, desperate for anything.

“not good enough,” he said, voice a filthy lilt, chanting some mock-prayer bullshit—“purify this sinner, wash her clean”—while his fingers went to your clit, rubbing light, maddening circles that made your whole body tense, teetering right on the brink. your tears spilled then, streaking down your cheeks as you glared at him, defiant even through the haze, and he groaned low, like the sight of you crying was better than fucking you.

“look at those tears,” he muttered, crude and gleeful, leaning down to lick one off your cheek, his tongue hot and slow. “crying for my cock already? pathetic little half-breed.” he pulled back, grabbing his dick—still hard, massive, dripping—and slapped it against your clit, the wet smack loud and humiliating. your body jolted, a choked moan tearing out, and the choker glowed violent, lighting up your wrecked face in the dim room.

he didn’t stop—kept it up, relentless, playing you like a damn fiddle. he’d drag his cock along your slit, slow and teasing, nudging your clit with the head, then pull back, slapping it down again, each hit making your hips buck, your sobs louder, tears streaming as you glared through them.

“damn you,” you rasped, voice hoarse, tail lashing out to smack his arm, but he pinned it down, laughing soft and dark as he leaned in, breath hot against your cunt.

“keep crying,” he purred, crude as hell, licking one slow, deliberate stripe up your slit, stopping just shy of your clit. your whole body arched, a scream caught in your throat, and he pulled back, slapping his cock against you again—harder, the sting sharp and electric. “holy knight’s gotta taste that demon filth—wash it out with my tongue, huh?”

he dove in then, but never enough—tongue flicking your clit light and quick, then pulling away right as your thighs started to shake. he’d suck it hard, lips sealing around it, only to pop off with a wet smack, leaving you gasping, sobbing, the tears falling faster as he watched, eyes dark with sick delight.

“so fucking pretty,” he muttered, sliding two fingers back in, pumping them deep, curling them just right until your hips rocked, your breath hitching, then yanking them out, smearing your slick across your thigh.

“please—fuck—please,” you choked out, half-snarl, half-sob, the tears burning your eyes as you glared, your pride shredded, your body screaming for release. he grinned, grabbing his cock again, slapping it against your clit in a quick, brutal rhythm—smack, smack, smack—each hit making you flinch, your sobs turning to desperate gasps, the choker glowing so bright it hurt to look at.

“begging now, huh?” he said, voice rough with lust, leaning over you, his cock brushing your oversensitive folds, teasing, not pushing in. “thought you’d kill me—where’s that fire, princess? all i see is a teary little slut, dripping for me.”

he slapped his cock down again, harder, the wet sound obscene, and your tail lashed out, smacking his chest, weak but furious. he grabbed it, yanking it hard, making you yelp, tears streaming as he pinned it to the bed.

“gonna break you slow,” he growled, sliding his fingers back in—three this time, stretching you wide, pumping them fast and deep, curling them just right until your whole body tensed, your sobs loud and broken. he’d pull them out right as you started to shake, leaving you clenching around nothing, then slap his cock against your clit again, over and over, the sting mixing with the heat until your mind was a haze of need and rage.

he kept it going—hours, minutes, who fucking knew—switching it up just when you thought you’d snap. he’d lick you slow, tongue dragging along your folds, then stop to suck your clit hard, pulling off with a grin as you screamed. he’d fuck you shallow with his fingers, then deep, then pull out, slapping your cunt with his hand, then his cock, each hit making your tears fall faster, your glare burning through the haze.

“holy work’s never quick,” he’d murmur, crude and dark, licking your tears again, groaning against your skin. “gotta purify you, my filthy bride—cry all you want, it’s just making me harder.”

your body was a wreck—shaking, sobbing, slick pooling beneath you, the choker glowing blindingly bright as he played you, every nerve on fire. he’d tease his cock against your entrance, pushing in just the tip, letting you feel the stretch, then pull out, slapping it against your clit again, laughing as you bucked, your sobs turning to desperate, broken pleas.

“i’ll kill you,” you rasped, voice raw, tears streaming as he hovered over you, his dick brushing your folds, his eyes locked on your teary glare.

“cute,” satoru only purred, slapping his cock down one last time, hard and wet, making you flinch, your whole body trembling, right on the edge, so fucking close you could taste it.

but he didn’t let you—pulled back completely, leaving you panting, sobbing, a wrecked mess tied to the bed, as he loomed over you, his massive dick hard and dripping, his eyes dark with that perverted hunger, chest heaving from his own restraint. he untied the sashes, letting your arms flop uselessly, then grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back with a cocky smirk.

he didn’t waste a second—hands clamped on your hips, yanking you down the bed until your ass hit his thighs, your legs splayed wide over his. the silk bunched under your back, damp and warm, sticking to your skin as he knelt between your legs, his cock hovering over your cunt, thick and heavy, the head glistening with pre-cum and your slick.

your chest heaved, tears still streaming, your glare burning through the haze as you rasped, “you’re a fucking monster,” voice raw and broken from sobbing.

“and you’re my filthy little demon,” he shot back, crude and dark, grabbing his dick and slapping it against your clit one last time—smack—the wet sound loud and obscene, making you flinch, a sob tearing out as the choker flared. “gonna breed that evil right out of you, princess—fill you up till you’re clean.”

he lined up, the head nudging your entrance, and thrust in—hard, deep, no mercy, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal snap of his hips. your scream was instant, guttural, your body arching off the bed as he stretched you wide, his cock slamming past your limits, hitting your cervix with a dull, aching thud.

thee tears fell faster, your glare dissolving into a desperate, teary mess as the heat exploded, the orgasm crashing through you immediately—weeks, hours, who fucking knew—of pent-up need unraveling in a single thrust. your cunt clenched around him, tight and pulsing, slick gushing out, soaking his thighs as your legs shook, toes curling, a raw, “fuck—fuck—” spilling from your lips.

“there it is,” he groaned, voice rough and filthy, his hands digging into your hips, holding you still as you spasmed around him, your first release ripping through you like a storm. “cumming already, huh? such a needy little slut—couldn’t even wait for me to move.”

he didn’t stop—didn’t even pause—just started fucking you through it, slow at first, dragging his cock out inch by inch, letting you feel the stretch, the way your walls fluttered, then slamming back in, hard and deep, hitting that aching spot again.

the sensation was overwhelming—his cock filled you completely, thick and unyielding, the head grinding against your cervix with every thrust, a dull, bruising ache mixing with the sharp, electric pleasure still buzzing from your orgasm.

your thighs trembled, spread wide over his, the muscles twitching as he kept your legs pinned, knees bent slightly, feet dangling uselessly in the air. the silk rubbed your back raw, your spine arching every time he drove in, your breasts bouncing with the force, nipples hard and sensitive against the cool air.

“look at you,” he growled, crude and sadistic, one hand sliding up to grab your tail, yanking it hard enough to make you yelp, tears streaming as he twisted it in his fist. “crying like a bitch while i fuck you clean—holy knight’s dick too much for your demon filth, huh?” he thrust harder, faster, the wet slap of his hips against your ass loud and relentless, your slick dripping down onto the silk, pooling beneath you.

your second orgasm hit fast, spurred by his tail yank and the brutal pace—your cunt spasmed again, tighter this time, a hot rush of slick coating him as you screamed, voice breaking, “fuck you—fuck—” the tears wouldn’t stop, your glare flickering, softening into something dazed as your body shook, the pleasure too much, too soon. your clit throbbed, oversensitive from his slaps, and every thrust sent a jolt through it, sharp and searing, making your toes curl harder, your breath hitching in short, desperate gasps.

“that’s two,” he purred, voice dark and gleeful, leaning down to lick a tear off your cheek, his tongue hot and slow, groaning against your skin. “sobbing so pretty—keep it up, princess, i’m gonna flood that filthy womb.” he shifted, hands sliding under your thighs, lifting them slightly, bending your knees more, tilting your hips up so he could hit deeper—straighter—his cock grinding into your cervix with every thrust, the pressure building, aching, making you sob louder.

the position burned—your thighs stretched wide, muscles straining, your hips tilted at an angle that left you completely open, vulnerable, his weight pressing down as he fucked you into the bed. the silk caught every drop of slick, every tear that fell, your arms limp at your sides, claws digging into the bedding as he pounded you, the sensation splitting you apart—sharp pleasure, dull pain, all of it blending into a haze. your third orgasm crept up slow, coiling tight as he kept that brutal rhythm, his cock dragging along your walls, the head smashing your cervix, your clit rubbing against his pelvis with every thrust.

“holy fuck,” he grunted, crude and breathless, his own restraint fraying as he watched you unravel, your tears glistening in the candlelight, your face flushed and wrecked. “look at that—crying and cumming, such a perfect breeding bitch.”

he yanked your tail again, harder, and you screamed, the sound raw and broken as your third hit, your cunt pulsing around him, slick flooding out, soaking his cock, his thighs, the bed—a wet, messy gush that made him groan louder, his thrusts faltering for a second before he picked up again, relentless.

your body shook, legs trembling, the sensation electric—your clit throbbed against him, your walls clenched tight, the pressure on your cervix a deep, aching pulse that made your sobs turn to whimpers, your glare fading into a glassy, teary stare.

“can’t—fuck—can’t take it,” you gasped, voice slurring, your hands clawing at the silk, tail twitching in his grip as he kept fucking you through it, drawing it out, the wet squelch of your cunt loud and obscene.

“you’ll take it,” he growled, crude and dark, shifting again—hands sliding under your ass, lifting you higher, your hips off the bed now, your lower back arching as he folded you more, knees pushed toward your chest. “gonna fuck you till you’re pure—till you’re dripping with me, slut.” the new angle was brutal—his cock hit even deeper, straighter, every thrust slamming your cervix, the pressure sharp and relentless, your clit grinding harder against him, sending jolts through your whole body.

your fourth orgasm crashed in fast, spurred by the angle, the tail yank, the crude filth spilling from his mouth—your cunt spasmed hard, a hot, wet rush soaking him again, your scream turning to a high, broken whine as your eyes fluttered, tears streaming, your face going slack—mouth open, tongue lolling slightly, eyes half-lidded and dazed, a wrecked, mindless mess. your body shook uncontrollably, legs kicking weakly, the sensation overwhelming—his cock filling you, stretching you, the ache in your cervix blending with the sharp, pulsing pleasure in your clit, your whole core a throbbing, soaking wreck.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, voice rough and filthy, leaning down to lick more tears off your face, his thrusts slowing but still deep, grinding into you as you trembled. “look at you—crying and squirting, such a dirty little demon. holy knight’s breaking you good, huh?”

he didn’t stop—kept fucking you slow now, letting you feel every inch, every pulse, drawing out the aftershocks as your body twitched, your sobs turning to soft, teary whimpers, your glare completely gone, replaced by that glassy, fucked-out stare.

he shifted again, hands sliding up to grip your thighs, pushing them back further, folding you in half—knees nearly at your shoulders, ass lifted high, cunt angled straight up for him. the position was obscene—your legs spread wide, pinned, your slick dripping down your ass, pooling on the silk, his cock poised above you, massive and dripping, ready to plunge back in.

your breath hitched, a weak, “no, please—fuck—no more,” slipping out, but he just grinned, crude and sadistic, slapping his cock against your clit again—smack, smack—making you flinch, a sob tearing out as your oversensitive body jolted.

“oh, we’re not done,” he purred, voice dark and filthy, lining up again, the head nudging your entrance. “gonna breed you till you’re leaking, princess—till that demon filth’s gone and you’re mine.” he thrust in slow this time, dragging it out, letting you feel the stretch, the way your walls fluttered, still pulsing from the last orgasm, and your fifth hit almost instantly—a sharp, searing wave, your cunt clenching hard, another gush of slick soaking him as you screamed, voice breaking into a wrecked, teary mess.

your body felt like a live wire—every thrust sent jolts through you, your clit rubbing against him, your cervix aching, the sensation splitting you apart—sharp and hot, wet and messy, your tears falling faster, your face slack and wild, mouth open, eyes rolling back slightly as you shook, completely lost.

satoru kept going, relentless, fucking you through it, his groans mixing with your sobs, the wet slap of his hips against your ass a constant, filthy rhythm, your slick flooding out, soaking everything.

his hands tightened their grip on your thighs, holding you folded—knees near your shoulders, ass lifted high, cunt angled up like an offering. your voice was gone, a hoarse, “no more,” barely audible, but he just grinned, crude and dark, pulling out and slapping his dick against your clit one last time, making you flinch, a teary whimper slipping out as he lined up again, ready to finish what he started.

“gonna fill you up now,” he growled, voice rough and filthy, his hands tightening on your thighs, keeping you bent in half—your knees pressed close to your shoulders, your ass hanging off the edge of the bed, hips tilted so high your lower back arched sharp, the silk bunching beneath you.

your legs dangled, feet brushing the air, useless and trembling, your cunt spread wide, slick and pulsing from the last round, every nerve raw and screaming. he thrust in slow, dragging it out, letting you feel the stretch—his cock thick and unyielding, sliding past your walls, the head nudging your cervix with a dull, aching thud that made you sob, tears falling faster as your glare flickered, fading into a glassy, teary haze.

“fuck—yes,” he groaned, crude and dark, his hips snapping forward, burying himself deep, the pressure sharp and relentless, your cunt clenching around him instantly.

your sixth orgasm hit hard—immediate, a hot, pulsing wave, your walls fluttering tight, slick coating him as you screamed, voice breaking into a wrecked, “fuck—fuck—” your body shook, thighs trembling against his grip, the sensation splitting you apart—his cock grinding your cervix, your clit rubbing against his pelvis, a searing jolt that made your toes curl, your breath hitching in short, desperate gasps.

“that’s it,” he purred, sadistic glee dripping from every word, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, lifting you higher, keeping you folded tight as he fucked you through it, slow and brutal, letting the aftershocks ripple. “cumming again, huh? you really are such a filthy slut for a princess—can’t stop, can you?”

he didn’t let up—kept thrusting, deep and steady, the wet slap of his hips against your ass loud and obscene, your slick dripping down, soaking the silk beneath you. the position burned—your thighs pressed tight to your chest, your knees bent sharp, pinning your lungs, making every breath shallow and ragged, your spine curved so hard it ached, your ass lifted off the bed, held up by his hands like a prize.

his cock filled you completely, stretching you past your limits, the head smashing your cervix with every thrust, a deep, bruising ache that mixed with the sharp, pulsing pleasure still buzzing from your clit. your tears wouldn’t stop, streaming down your face, pooling in the hollow of your neck as you sobbed, your glare gone, replaced by a dazed, teary stare.

“look at you,” satoru grunted, crude and breathless, one hand sliding up to grab your tail, yanking it hard enough to make you whimper, tears spilling as he twisted it in his fist. “crying like a fucked-out whore—holy knight’s cleansing you good, huh? fucking that demon filth right out.”

he thrust harder, faster, the rhythm brutal, your cunt clenching again, your seventh orgasm building fast, spurred by the tail yank and the relentless pressure.

it hit like a punch—your walls spasmed tight, a hot rush of slick coating him, a messy flood that soaked his thighs, your scream turning to a high, broken whine as your eyes fluttered, tears streaming, your face going slack—mouth open, tongue lolling slightly, eyes half-lidded and wild, a wrecked, mindless mess. your body shook uncontrollably, legs kicking weakly against his grip, the sensation overwhelming—his cock spearing you, the ache in your cervix blending with the sharp, electric heat in your clit, your whole core a throbbing, dripping wreck.

“seven,” he growled, voice dark and filthy, leaning down to lick a tear off your cheek, his tongue slow and hot, groaning against your skin as he kept fucking you, drawing it out. “sobbing so pretty—gonna breed you till you realize that you’re mine, princess.”

he shifted, hands sliding under your thighs, pushing them back further, your knees brushing your ears now, your ass lifted higher, your hips tilted so steep your cunt was practically vertical, his cock plunging straight down, hitting deeper, harder, the pressure on your cervix a constant, aching pulse.

the new angle was brutal—your legs folded tight, thighs pressed to your chest, your feet dangling near your head, toes brushing your own hair, your spine curved so sharp it hurt, your ass hanging in his grip, completely exposed. every thrust drove him straight into your core, his cock grinding your cervix with a force that made your sobs louder, your tears falling in a steady stream, your breath shallow and ragged, lungs burning from the squeeze. your clit rubbed hard against him, every snap of his hips sending a jolt through it, sharp and searing, making your whole body twitch.

“holy fuck,” he groaned, crude and sadistic, his thrusts slowing but hitting harder, grinding deep as your eighth orgasm crept up, coiling tight in your gut. “look at that—crying and cumming, such a perfect little cocksleeve. gonna fill that filthy womb—make it pure.”

he yanked your tail again, sharp and punishing, and you screamed, the sound raw and broken as your eighth hit, your cunt pulsing around him, a hot, wet rush soaking him, your body shaking, your face slack and wild—mouth gaping, eyes rolling back slightly, tongue slipping out, a teary, fucked-out wreck.

he didn’t stop—shifted again, hands sliding to your hips, flipping you onto your stomach in one rough move, the silk soft under your chest as he yanked your ass up, knees sinking into the bed, your thighs spread wide, your face pressed into the damp bedding.

your arms stayed limp, too weak to move, claws digging into the silk as he thrust back in, deep and brutal, his cock slamming your cervix from behind, the angle sharper, straighter, the pressure a constant, aching thud. your ninth orgasm hit fast, spurred by the shift—your walls clenched tight, slick dripping out, not a squirt but a steady leak that soaked the bed, your scream muffled into the silk, tears pooling beneath your face as you shook, completely lost.

“nine,” he purred, voice rough and filthy, one hand gripping your hip, the other yanking your tail up, using it like a leash to pull you back onto him with every thrust. “crying into the bed—you’re so pretty and pathetic, taking my holy cock like this.”

he fucked you harder, the wet squelch of your cunt loud and obscene, your clit rubbing against the silk with every slam, sending jolts through you, sharp and hot, your tenth building fast, your mind fraying at the edges.

he shifted again, climbing over you, his chest pressing your back into the bed, his knees bracketing your thighs, pinning you flat, your ass tilted up just enough for him to keep thrusting—deep, slow, grinding now, his cock buried so far it felt like it was in your stomach, the head smashing your cervix with every roll of his hips.

your legs were trapped under him, bent slightly at the knees, feet brushing his calves, your arms pinned by your sides, claws scraping the silk as he fucked you down into the mattress, his weight heavy and unyielding, your breath shallow and desperate.

“fuck—yes,” he groaned, crude and dark, his breath hot against your neck as he licked another tear off your skin, his thrusts slowing but hitting harder, grinding deep. your tenth orgasm crashed through—a sharp, searing wave, your cunt pulsing tight, slick flooding out, soaking his cock, your scream a broken, teary whimper as your face went slack—mouth wide, tongue lolling, eyes rolling back, a wild, wrecked mess.

your body shook, pinned under him, the sensation overwhelming—his cock filling you, the ache in your cervix a constant pulse, your clit grinding into the silk, your whole core a throbbing, dripping ruin.

“ten,” he grunted, voice filthy and triumphant, his hands sliding under you, cupping your stomach as he thrust deeper, grinding into you. “gonna cum now—fill you up, princess. breed that demon filth out of you.” he didn’t rush—kept it slow, deliberate, letting you feel every pulse, every twitch, his cock throbbing inside you as he groaned, low and filthy, his breath ragged against your neck. then he came—hot, thick, spilling into you in heavy pulses, flooding your cunt, the sensation sharp and hot, your walls clenching around him as he ground it in, creaming you deep, the excess dripping out, pooling on the silk.

“fuck—take it,” he growled, crude and sadistic, shifting again—hands grabbing your thighs, flipping you back onto your back, lifting your legs high, pressing your knees to your chest, your ass off the bed, your hips tilted up in his grip, his cock still buried deep, cum leaking out around him as he thrust back in, slow and brutal, pushing his seed deeper.

your eleventh orgasm hit instantly—a hot, pulsing wave, your cunt spasming, a sharp squirt soaking his stomach, your scream a wrecked, teary mess as your face stayed slack, eyes wild and unfocused, tongue lolling, a mindless, fucked-out shell.

“good girl,” he purred, voice dark and filthy, fucking you through it, his cock grinding his cum into your womb, the position tight and brutal—your thighs pressed to your chest, knees bent sharp, feet dangling near your shoulders, your spine curved, your ass lifted, his weight pinning you as he bred you, relentless, your tears falling, your sobs soft and broken, your mind gone, shattered under the onslaught.

he stayed buried inside you, cock softening but still thick, plugging his cum deep as he caught his breath, chest heaving against yours. your thighs trembled in his grip, muscles twitching, your knees still shoved up near your ears, feet dangling uselessly, toes brushing your own hair from how tight he’d folded you.

the silk were a soaked mess beneath you—slick, cum, tears, all mixing into a damp, sticky ruin that clung to your back, your ass, your thighs, the sensation warm and gross, a constant reminder of how he’d wrecked you. your arms lay limp at your sides, claws flexing weakly, scraping the bedding, your breath shallow and ragged, lungs burning from the squeeze of his last position.

“fuck,” he muttered, crude and low, his voice rough with exertion as he pulled back slightly, his cock slipping out slow, a thick, wet squelch echoing as more cum leaked from you, dripping down your ass, pooling on the silk.

he groaned at the sight, one hand sliding under your stomach, pressing down to feel the bulge where he’d filled you, his thumb rubbing slow, possessive circles over your womb. “look at that—stuffed you good, huh? cleansed that demon filth with my holy seed.”

your eyes fluttered, tears still streaming, hot and bitter, pooling in the hollow of your neck as you lay there, wrecked and shaking, your face a slack, wild mess—mouth open, tongue lolling slightly, eyes half-lidded and dazed, unfocused, staring at the ceiling. the choker pulsed faint, a dull glow that matched your slowing heartbeat, your cunt throbbing, oversensitive, every nerve fried from the marathon.

your tail twitched, brushing his knee, a weak, involuntary flick, and he grabbed it fast, yanking it just enough to make you whimper, a soft, teary sound that made him grin, crude and dark.

“so pretty like this,” he purred, sadistic glee dripping from every word, leaning down to lick a tear off your cheek, his tongue hot and slow, tracing the salty streak up to your eye. “all fucked out, crying, full of me—lovely wife, huh?”

his hand slid up, cupping your face, thumb brushing your trembling lips, smearing spit and tears as he tilted your head, forcing you to meet his gaze. those blue eyes gleamed, perverse and triumphant, drinking in your wreckage like it was a fucking masterpiece.

you couldn’t speak—voice gone, throat raw from screaming, sobbing, begging through the hours he’d ruined you. your chest heaved, breaths short and shaky, your body too heavy to move, every muscle spent, your cunt aching, stuffed full of his cum, a dull, pulsing heat that made you twitch.

“mine,” he murmured, crude and low, licking another tear off your skin, his breath hot against your neck as he nipped the bruise he’d left earlier, making you flinch, a soft, broken whimper slipping out. “mine. mine.” his fingers dug into your hips, possessive, his cock brushing your thigh, half-hard again, smearing cum and slick as he pressed it against you, teasing, not thrusting in yet, just letting you feel it. “gonna keep you like this—bred, broken, all mine.”

he leaned back, kneeling there, his chest heaving, sweat slicking his scarred skin, his white hair damp and messy, sticking to his forehead as he watched you—watched the cum leak from your cunt, watched your tears glisten in the candlelight, watched your body tremble under his hands.

“holy fuck,” he muttered, crude and reverent, his voice rough with lust and exhaustion. “look at you—wrecked, dripping, crying like a little bitch. my pretty filthy bride, huh?”

he shifted, sliding down beside you, one arm draping over your stomach, pulling you against his chest, his cock pressing against your ass, still half-hard, smearing more mess as he settled in. your legs stayed splayed, thighs quaking, your breath hitching as he nuzzled your neck, licking the sweat and tears off your skin, his hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple, making you twitch, a soft, teary sob slipping out.

“so good,” he murmured, voice softening but still crude, his breath hot against your ear. “took it all—every drop, every thrust, every fucking tear. you’ll love me. they all do. eventually,”

his hand stroked your stomach, pressing down where he’d filled you, like he was claiming it all over again. your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion pulling you under, your body too wrecked to move, too broken to fight, the tears slowing, your breath evening out as you drifted, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

but then—fuck—it sparked. not life. not hope. just pride. that brittle, burning ember he hadn’t managed to fuck out of you. not yet. not ever.

your eyes cracked open, glassy and bruised, but gleaming with that same imperious spite, the same loathing that had never once faltered—not through the screams, the begging, the breaking. your voice was a rasp, torn from somewhere buried deep, meant not to fight him off but to wound him where it mattered.

“as if i’d ever love a holy mutt who only fucks like he’s trying to prove something.” your lip curled, defiant even as your voice trembled. “must be hard, knowing the only crown you’ll ever have is between my legs.”

the words clawed out, weak but venomous, your tail twitching against his grip, smacking his thigh with what little strength you had left, a final, defiant snap.

he froze—breath catching, his hand stalling on your stomach, his cock twitching hard against your thigh—and for a heartbeat, the room went dead, the candles flickering low, wax dripping silent onto the stone. then his face split into a grin—wide, cruel, unhinged, his eyes flashing with sadistic, perverted delight, his love twisting into something vicious as he moved—fast, brutal, flipping you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so hard your knees sank deep into the silk, your ass lifted high, your face shoved into the soaked bedding, his seed and slick smearing your cheek, the scent choking you.

“oh, my filthy bride,” he snarled, voice sharp and scolding, dripping with cruel glee as he fisted your hair, pulling until your scalp burned, his other hand grabbing your tail, twisting it so viciously you screamed, tears spilling fresh, your body jerking under his grip.

“thought you’d learned your place, huh? mouthing off like a brainless brat—guess my cock didn’t fuck enough sense into you.” he scolded you like a child caught stealing, his cock—hard again, massive—slapping against your cunt, smack, smack, smack, each hit wet and stinging, making you flinch, your oversensitive clit throbbing, your sobs raw and loud.

“you don’t get it, do you?” he growled, leaning over you, his chest pinning your back, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he scolded, voice cruel and cutting. “you’re mine. my wife, my trophy, my fucking prize. you insult me? you spit that venom? i’ll carve it out of you, brat—fuck you till you’re choking on your own screams, till you’re begging me to keep you.”

he yanked your tail harder, twisting it like a rope, his hand cracking down on your ass—slap, slap, slap—each hit sharp and brutal, leaving welts, your body jolting, your tears soaking the silk, your glare flickering back, weak but defiant, burning through the haze.

“pathetic,” he sneered, crude and sadistic, his cock nudging your entrance, teasing, the head slipping in just enough to stretch you, then pulling out, leaving you empty, shaking, sobbing. “look at you—crying, leaking, talking big like you’re not supposed to be my breeding bitch. you think you’re tough, huh? i’ll fuck that attitude till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess, till you’re crawling for my mercy.”

he slapped his cock against your clit again—smack, smack—harder, the wet sound obscene, your body bucking, your screams muffled, your tears endless, the choker flaring bright as he leaned in, licking your cheek, groaning at the taste.

“i hate you,” you rasped again, weaker but sharper, venom dripping, your tail snapping against his grip, a frail but furious smack to his wrist, your claws tearing deeper into the silk, shredding the silk, defiance blazing through the tears, the pain, the wreckage. his laugh was cold, cruel, slicing the air as he shoved your face harder into the bedding, muffling your sobs, his hand cracking down on your ass again—slap, slap—welts blooming, your body trembling, his cock poised to ruin you again.

“go on, keep cursing me like that,” he growled, voice dark and filthy, scolding you like a king to a rebel, his sadistic glee a living thing as he lined up, the head nudging your cunt, teasing, promising pain. “i’ll make you pray to me by the time i’m done.”

[trivia-yandere]

kitty

when you're going through a rough heat, who else is there to call besides bunny hybrid jeon jungkook?

word count: 5.570

warning: hybrid au, dirty talking, bunny jungkook, cat reader, smut, submissive reader, dominant jungkook, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, heat, jk calls reader "kitty", nipple sucking, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, breeding kink,

like idk yall i seen this video and almost fell tf out so I was like why not do what i do best and make a fic

The first time you met Jungkook, you pondered if he was something else in his past life. Maybe a lion or tiger - a fearless wolf. As a bunny hybrid, he had little to none of the characteristics. The bunny hybrids you’d met were all full of fear and caution. Any little sound sets their fight or flight off - and it’s never truly fight. They were naturally terrified people, always shutting themselves away from those who were considered “predators”.

Jeon Jungkook was different. For a bunny hybrid, he lacked the fear of a hare. He often stood tall and firm, never cowering like his fellow bunny hybrids. When he spoke, he looked you in the eye - prey or predator. The only thing he had in common with them was his diet - consisting of various fruits and vegetables.

You were a cat hybrid. You wouldn’t consider yourself top of the predator hierarchy but you weren’t a prey. You - and those you associate with - share too many characteristics with that of a feline. You cannot fathom not sleeping the majority of the day and eating even when you aren’t hungry. You were often cranky and you didn’t enjoy unnecessary noise.

There were a lot of things you didn’t like and Jeon Jungkook was one of them. He was too hyper and energetic, often hopping around - even in his human form - and being a complete nuisance. You despised whenever you and he were forced to be around one another because that meant that you weren’t going to know any peace.

You recall when you first met Jungkook. “Sorry, Y/N can be a bit…grumpy.” Yuna murmured to Namjoon. She looked down at you in your cat form - a form you preferred to be in when you longed around lazily. Your back was arched and your ears were casted backwards, ready to attack.

And you were hissing right at Namjoon - but not at him. At Jungkook, the chocolate- colored bunny in his arms.

Yuna had warned you that her relationship with Namjoon was going great and he had even gone as far as to ask if she wanted to move in with him.  She contemplated it - they’ve been together for a year already.

You, however, were a factor Yuna had to consider. Especially since Jungkook was around. Neither you or Jungkook were considered “pets” to Namjoon and Yuna; even if that was what it was “legally”. You’ve grown alongside Yuna, she is only a few human years older than you.

  In a world where hybrids are sold to families as pets, you were placed into Yuna’s household by her grandfather. She still doesn’t know how her grandfather acquired a young feline hybrid, but you were always treated like a family member rather than a pet.

Now, years later, you enjoyed Yuna’s place. She had taken you along with her when she moved out instead of leaving you with her parents. The entire household already smelled of you - a scent Yuna couldn’t smell herself as a human - and you enjoyed everything to be exactly where you wanted it. There wasn’t anything in the household that you didn’t know where it was exactly.

One of the main reason why moving to Namjoon’s place would simply not work - so Yuna offered for Namjoon to move here.

Jungkook wasn’t considered a pet with Namjoon either and unlike you, Jungkook was a ray of sunshine. Yuna still tells the story of how when she first met Jungkook - in his bunny form - he had hoped right into her lap that she was so shocked that he was hybrid and so friendly. She still tells the story of when you “met” her first boyfriend - a boy from High School she had forgotten to tell you was coming over. You had attacked the poor boy so bad that he left not even 10 minutes later covered in scratches.

You, to this day, refused to see how you were wrong.

“You’re going to have to go to your room if you’re going to be hostile.” Yuna had said with a stern voice when you hissed at the bunny. Namjoon had put him onto the ground cautiously. “Why don’t we introduce you and Jungkook properly? You’ll probably like him better that way.”

Yuna knows your type and it was one of the reasons she suggested it. She was shocked herself at how something so cute could turn to a hot piece of ass - something she told Namjoon bashfully.

But of course, at that time, you were being stubborn. You clawed at Jungkook instead and that only prompted Yuna to yank you up and speed walk down the hall to your own bedroom. She was warm with embarrassment and she threw you onto your bed and immediately, you turned into your naked human self.

Yuna had seen you naked countless times that it doesn’t affect her - but she had told you with Namjoon moving in, you could no longer randomly go between cat and human forms. One of the many reasons why him and that hare shouldn’t be in your home.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Yuna hissed. “I told you-”

“I think he was sizing me up.” you interrupted, eyes staring straight back at hers. “Coming into here like he owns the place.”

Yuna knows you’re talking about Jungkook. You met Namjoon before and immediately liked him, expressing to her that she and him were perfect together. 

“You do this all the time when there’s other hybrids involved. You’re so jealous-”

“Territorial.” you corrected. “And that hare stinks! How old is he even?”

Yuna rolled her eyes. “He’s younger than me and Namjoon but-”

“Ugh, I hate kids.” you rolled your eyes. “No wonder.”

It wasn’t a lie. You hated a lot of things and sometimes, Yuna couldn’t understand why she adored you so much. You just didn’t like people you weren’t accustomed to. Oftentimes, you’d sit at the window and hiss just because if you saw children - even if they weren’t doing anything worthy of being hissed at.

‘You must want me to die alone.” Yuna crossed her arms. “You always do this with every person I date that owns a hybrid.”

“We all die alone. Do you expect to be buried with anyone?” you deadpan, yet you pout a bit. You didn’t want Yuna to feel as though you didn’t care about her. It was that hare you didn’t care about - coming into your home and sniffling as if he owned the air.

“I just really like Namjoon, Y/N…”

Your ears perk at the way Yuna’s voice drops.

“FIne.” you exhaled. It hurted you to say that. “But keep that hare out of my stuff…”

Accepting Yuna and Namjoon’s relationship meant accepting Jungkook. You had locked yourself in your room the first week before you came out. You have yet to witness Jungkook in his human form and vice versa. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t around one another.

Jungkook was overbearing, hopping around in your space. It didn’t matter how much you hissed or swiped at him, he followed.

There were times in which you enjoyed your peace and it was as if Jungkook was determined to ruin it. A month into living with him - and still neither of you had presented to one another outside of your hybrid forms - you were sitting at the window seal. You were soaking up the sun, eyes closed and purring with satisfaction. Your tail wagged back and forth and - You’re suddenly caught off guard by the sudden pressure on your side, prompting you to fall onto the hardwood floor. You land on your feet, but immediately are being pushed onto your side by a familiar being.

Yuna watched lazily as you and Jungkook - as cat and rabbit - begin to fight. Typically, it began with Jungkook, who has always been smitten by you since day 1, climbing onto you. 

Today he was feeling extra perverse and he’d begun to hump you - an action that had caused you to attack him entirely. Your claws dig into his fur to shield him off and you’d hiss. The action is funny to watch a bunny hump onto a cat - but knowing that it was just you and Jungkook made it even funnier. 

Namjoon didn’t find it funny, however, and you hadn’t seen Jungkook for a week after that. He had apologized profusely about Jungkook’s behavior to you - both in cat form and while in human for when you had stumbled out early in the morning one night to sneak food.

The first time you saw Jungkook in his human form, you were in complete shock. You were home alone. Yuna was at work and Namjoon had visited his parents for the evening for dinner. You only assumed Jungkook went with him.

Wrong.

Witnessing a tall man in your home had sent alarm bells in your head. He had sat at the dinner table, munching on an array of celery and carrots. His nose had twitched in a way that appeared oddly familiar.

“Jung…kook?” you had asked, voice so meek. You were literally cat-like, Jungkook thinks. The way you were completely still, watching him with wide alert eyes.

“Y/N?” Jungkook tilted his head, his eyes growing wide with wonder, as well.

You, flustered, had run away. You had called Yuna and asked her why in the world she didn’t tell you that Jungkook looked like that. She had laughed gleefully, stating that finally you were going to come around once you saw just what the man looked like.

The sexual tension is excruciating. 

Not just for you and Jungkook, but for Yuna and Namjoon.

Jungkook hadn’t made it a secret that he found you attractive. He followed you around oftentimes when at home, no matter how bitchy you were. 

Namjoon has always been attentive when it comes to Jungkook ruts. He had no problem with allowing Jungkook to do what he wanted - deal with it alone or have someone help him. But this wasn’t just his home anymore, so for Jungkook’s rut he had gotten him a hotel room that specializes in ruts and heats.

Against Jungkook’s best wishes to ask you to help him. He was upset and Namjoon had to drag him out of the home - but he wasn’t going to allow him to make you anymore uncomfortable.

Jungkook had gotten another cat hybrid to help him after nearly 45 minutes of searching.

Namjoon doesn’t believe Yuna when she tells him that you are just as infatuated with Jungkook as he is with you. You, however, are just bitchy. Simple. You would never admit that you find him attractive - but Yuna sometimes would find you sitting on the window seal in cat form watching as Jungkook works out outside. Or how when you all eat dinner together, your pupils would grow big watching Jungkook.

This is how Yuna finds you one weekend. You’re in distress and Yuna can hear you. She finds your small cat body on your bed, meowing. Your meow is so soft and laced with such need and yearning that she instantly knows what’s wrong.

“You’re in heat.” Yuna strokes a finger on your head, a giggle in her voice. 

If you were in your normal state, you would’ve bit her for teasing you. But you’re in heat and thus, highly horny.

“Do you want me to ask Jungkook?”

That is not what you wanted at all. You didn’t want to see Jungkook’s naked body hovering above yours, those dark eyes staring intently at you as he fucks-

“Oh fuck.” you say, your naked body now against your bed. You roll around and scream into the sheets.

“You so want Jungkook.” Yuna squeals. She’s already texting Namjoon, stating that for the weekend, the both of them would need to book a hotel. You could have the home and be comfortable to enjoy your heat.

With Jungkook.

No interruptions.

“I…I can’t.” you murmur, clenching your thighs together. Everytime you think about it, it just causes your core to throb more and more.

“Why can’t you?” Yuna questions. “You want Jungkook. Jungkook wants you. You’re in heat so of course he’ll fuck the shit out of you-”

You groan - more like moan needily. 

Yuna is gone within an hour and leaves you and Jungkook alone. 

You’re determined, though. You aren’t going to fall into temptation.

Jungkook never makes anything easier for you, either.

You’re at the counter, cutting into your steak when you sense Jungkook behind you. Though Yuna nor Namjoon had told him why they were leaving for the weekend, he could sense something was different in the air. 

Jungkook had watched you leave your room from down the hall and immediately noticed the sway in your hips. You smell different, too. More sweeter.

“Y/N.”

You don’t stop cutting into your steak, but your thighs do clench at the sound of Jungkook’s deep voice.

“Jungkook.” you respond.

Jungkook’s ear perks. Your voice is different; low in tone and a bit…breathy?

Jungkook licks his lips.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

You snort. “What movie?” you place your cut steak into a bowl and slowly turn around. You didn’t want to face him, but you had to.

Jungkook’s wearing grey sweatpants - red flag number one. They’re dangerously low around his waist. His tank top is tight and you’re positive that he had worked out earlier today.

“Whatever you want to watch, baby.” Jungkook licks his lips, tilting his head at you.

Red flag number two. Your stomach churns at the sight and immediately, your eyes flicker away. You clench the bowl in your hands. “I-I guess.”

You were in heat, it’s more obvious now.

Jungkook enjoys your banter. He adores the way you’d hiss at him with those hard eyes. You’d insult him and everything he loves - but that only turns Jungkook on.

Now, however, you were being - dare he say - submissive. You were nervous,  your body warm. You’re shy and not meeting his eyes and you hadn’t stopped clenching your legs since you and he stepped into his bedroom. In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t have come to his room to watch any movie, but you did today.

You also hadn’t stopped trembling as you ate your steak.

You picked a random movie and sat on his bed, furthest away from Jungkook. You had nervously finished your steak and were watching the movie, but couldn’t focus on it. Your mind is occupied with the smell in Jungkook’s room; ivory and clean. It smelt so much like him that it was driving you crazy.

“You’ve been still for nearly 45 minutes now.”

Your head snaps to the sound of Jungkook’s voice and you swallow thickly. Your pupils, Jungkook notices, are large and round. He admires that just as he does when you’re in cat form.

“Is everything alright, kitty?”

Jungkook’s lip twitches upward. He’s smirking right at you - he knows. He can smell the sweet scent of your ripped pussy. Your leg is shaking with anticipation and if he’s correct, you’re screaming to be mounted right about now - and have been ever since you’ve gotten into heat.

Your mouth parts so you can let out a sigh.

“It hurts.” Jungkook states. He knows - he’s been through this. He isn’t sure how heats work for women, but he knows for men, ruts are unbearable. He’s constantly hard, his cock begging to be buried deep into something warm, tight and wet. “Doesn’t it, kitty?”

You nod your head, staring right at him with those pleading eyes.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jungkook ponders. The television dances off of his face, casting a shadow that causes your heart to pump.

Your attraction for Jungkook is evident, even if you do hide it behind annoyance oftentimes. Now, you cannot hide the fact that your eyes wander to his arms. His biceps are so big and you always itch to feel them - bonus if it’s flexed. To his sweatpants. He’s seated leaning against his wall, completely relaxed in contrast to your uptight position. His legs are spreaded and his hand lights on his thigh lazily.

You speak before your mind can process what you’re saying. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Aww, kitty.” Jungkook sing-sons, but in mere seconds he’s on you. He tugs at your clothing, knowing you’re itching to get out of them. They’re too tight against your hot, sticky skin. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me, right?”

You nod your head as Jungkook pulls at your shorts and discards them, your soaked panties going along with them.

Your scent instantly fills his nostrils now that you’re naked. He groans, licking his lips with great satisfaction. “Smell so sweet, kitty. I know you taste even sweeter.”

“Please fuck me, Kook.” your back is against his warm sheets now and you’re pleading. You didn’t want to wait - you’ve been waiting all day. You weren’t  strong enough to fight off the natural urges to be stuffed.

“You’re so needy.” Jungkook’s hands roam your now naked body. He’s been dying to sink his teeth onto your skin, run his tongue across it. He thought about burying his face between your legs and eating you until you were a shaking mess.

“Please, Kook.” you beg again, a hand grasping his tank top. “We have all weekend.”

How right you were.

Jungkook is tugging his sweatpants down, his cock immediately poking out. Pink, angry tip oozing with pre-cum that causes you to groan at how pretty it was. “Turn around. You’re such a begging whore, kitty.”

You compy, arching your back like the good whore he told you that you were. Your thighs break apart and widen, telling him that you were ready.

“You’re already dripping and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” Jungkook chuckles darkly, marveling at your glistening cunt. 

You let out a sharp breath when Jungkook’s tip slides between your wet folds. Your pussy instantly clenches around nothing, your thighs quivering. Jungkook inhales sharply, your wet pussy throbbing so much that he can feel it. 

“Please fuck me, Kook. I’ve been waiting so long.” you whimper. You wiggle a bit, hoping that you would feel him slide into you.

You begging for Jungkook’s cock sends him off. He enters you swiftly and in one go. You yelp out, pussy instantly clamping around his cock. 

“Oh fuck, kitty.” Jungkook groaned, head leaned back. His hands instantly wrap onto your hips, his nails digging into your skin to keep you close. 

Jungkook’s cock begins to pump, thrusting so deep that he hits in the very spot that you need him to. Your fingers dig into his sheets for comfort while your mouth is falling open to let such sensual moans.

You were a submissive little thing while in heat, Jungkook notes, fully allowing him to take control of your body. His hips rut, fucking his cock deeper and deeper into you. With each thrust, you’re growing louder, your pussy begging for more. He would  have never thought he’d see the day this happens - he always took you as the more dominant type.

But, you were also a feline and maybe that has something to do with the way your heat is set up. Whatever it was, Jungkook was enjoying it. His eyes are fixed on the way your ass bounces against him, your pussy making such beautiful squelching sounds with each pump of his cock. 

“You’re so pretty, kitty. You should see how good you looked being fucked.” Jungkook pants. You’re creaming on his cock entirely, a sight he never wants to forget.

“Feel’s s-s-so good.” you stutter, your eyes fluttering. Deep down, you hated being in this position. So vulnerable towards Jungkook, the man you’ve hated longer than you’ve liked him. But you were far too gone now in your heat and all you truly wanted was Jungkook.

What you did care about was the way Jungkook fucks you, slamming his cock in and out of you at such an alarming pace. You’ve heard about rabbit hybrids - how good fuckers they were. Their staminas rarely decreasing. You’ve never thought you’d experience one before.

There’s such filthy noises coming from Jungkook’s bedroom that you’re glad that Yuna and Namjoon aren’t home - you couldn’t bear doing the walk of shame back to your room.

“Gonna cum all over my cock already?” Jungkook chuckles darkly. He can feel the way you’re squeezing him, your back arching to feel even more of his cock. “Go ahead and cum, kitty, but I’m not done with your pussy just yet.”

Jungkook was a man of his word. You creamy cum coats his cock entirely as he sends you over the edge. Instead, he flips you onto your back and forces your legs apart. Witnessing your glistening pussy this way was another sight he has to save in his mind - in case he never gets to have you in this position again.

Jungkook leans down, both of his large hands engulfing your breast. He manages to capture both of your nipples into his mouth, suckling harshly onto them. You gasp, already going through such a great amount of overstimulation - but Jungkook doesn’t care. 

Jungkook continues to suckle and smack onto your nipples, his tip rubbing against your throbbing clit. You had to admit the sight of him - so handsome and dominant - against you sends another wave of pleasure to fall through you.

“Kookie,  please.” you gasp out.

Jungkook’s dark eyes flicker up at you. He pops your nipples from his lips, saliva coating them and leans back. He removes his tank top and throws it aside then goes towards his sweat pants and removes them as well. 

Jungkook had already fucked you, but witnessing him naked just as much as you is a reminder that you and him are actually doing this - when you were done with your heat, this was going to be engrained in your mind forever.

Jungkook settles back between your legs. He grasps his cock and slaps it against your throbbing, wet clit. “What do you want, kitty?” he asks.

“I want your cock.” you respond as if on command. “Please fuck me, Kookie.”

Jungkook smirks. “These little nicknames you’ve never called me before are cute.” he says, rubbing his pink tip against your clit. “I’m used to you calling me such harsher names.”

“I’m sorry.” you pout.

Jungkook licks his lips. The Y/N he knew would never apologize - you were truly fucked out. 

“It’s okay, kitty. You know I love it.”

 Jungkook begins to enter you. His large hand places itself right onto your stomach to keep you in place. He starts slowly, inching deeper and deeper into you. You’re watching just as intently as he is when his cock fully enters you.

Then, without warning, Jungkook’s hips begin to snap aggressively. He pounds in and out of you, his hand on your stomach forcing you to stay in place. You were a moaning, squealing mess in less than a minute. The room echoes with wet skin slapping, groans and squeals - the movie now just background noise that neither of you care about.

Feeling Jungkook raw like this in this position was amazing - you felt every throbbing vein of his cock, every curve as it pumps in and out of you. 

“Kitty…” Jungkook groans, his eyes watching the way your face is drawn with such pleasure. “...I’ve wanted to feel your pussy around me for so long now.”

Jungkook is never going to make things easier for you. His hair is stuck to his forehead due to the beads of sweat. His eyes are dark with lust and it doesn’t help how completely fit he was - how you’ve managed this long without jumping his bones was astonishing even to you.

“I’ve wanted you when I was in rut but Joon forced me away.” Jungkook’s hips snap even harder now at the memory. He could smell you from just down the hall, his cock hard. “I had to fuck another cat hybrid, but she wasn’t you.”

Jungkook’s hand was going to bruise your stomach with how tight he was holding you, but he doesn’t care - and neither do you. All you cared about was how delicious his cock felt slamming into you - how disrespectful it may look from the outside looking in. 

“Your pussy’s so tight and ready to be bred. I haven’t even came in you yet, kitty.” Jungkook chuckles darkly. He should’ve asked if you were on any forms of protection, but he has an idea that you aren’t. From what he’s heard from Namjoon, you don’t typically warm up to outsiders; especially men.

Maybe it makes it even more special that you’ve managed to warm up to Jungkook. Still, he’d just pull out of you when the time comes.

Jungkook’s hand slides down just enough so his thumb could twirl onto your already overstimulated clit. He watches the way your thigh quivers and you begin to squirm beneath him.

“Feel’s good, kitty?”

“Yes…!” you huff out.

“You’re already so close again, kitty.” Jungkook chuckles smugly. “Such a greedy pussy you have.”

You’re whining now, your pussy drenching not only your thighs and Jungkook’s cock, but his sheet. He doesn’t mind it in the slightest - this was just the beginning of your heat. This was the most intense.

“Wanna feel you cum in me.”

Such perverted words - Jungkook groans. You were so far out of it that he wasn’t going to acknowledge what you said. The point of the heats was for you to be bred - but he wasn’t going to do that. He couldn’t, right?

No.

Jungkook continues to pump his cock into you, his thumb twirling even harsher now. Your back is arched slightly, your pussy clenching his cock so tightly and before he knows it, his abdomen is being drenched.

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook gasps, the sight of your squirting pussy sends him completely over the edge that he’s cumming right in you without realizing. He attempts to pull out of you, but he’s too slow. Your legs somehow find a way to wrap around his waist and you allow the warm cum to stuff you just like you wanted.

Most of your days consisted of the same routine.

After the sex, you and Jungkook would rest. You stayed in his room and he hadn’t minded in the slightest, holding you close against him.

When you awoke, you were hungry. Jungkook enjoys watching you eat, even if  you were devouring meat while he stuck to his fruits and vegetables. He likes the way your teeth sinks into the bloodied steak, your tongue licking your lips to savor the taste.

After eating, you’d fuck each others brains out. It was therapeutic, really, the amount of positions Jungkook has had you in in such a short amount of time. 

Jungkook has fucked you in front of his mirror, showing you just how good you looked when you were fucked out and begging for more. He’s had you against the wall, your legs wrapping tightly around him so he didn’t have a choice but to milk your walls with more of his seed - you’re too far into your heat to give a fuck about the consequences.

Currently, Jungkook’s head is bobbing back and forth. He’s on his knees at the edge of the bed, left hand gripping your thigh while his right is firmly gripping your ass. His tongue flickers past your clit greedily, those sinful moans music to his ears. 

Jungkook finds that he simply cannot get enough of you - not your scent or your taste. Whenever you’re ready for another round, so is he.

“Slow down”  you grumble softly, but your hand gripping his hair says differently. So do your hips that slowly begin to grind against his warm tongue.

“You sure?” Jungkook questions smugly, flickering his eyes up. His right hand slides from your ass to tap against your clenching and unclenching hole. “You’re making a mess all over me, kitty.”

Jungkook watches your reaction just as his fingers enter you. Your already wet pussy continues to drip all over him, begging to be bred and used for his enjoyment - like it has since the beginning. His curls curl just a bit as he pumps them in and out of you, marveling at how wet you get with each thrust.

Your teeth are sinked down against your lips, drawing a bit of blood. You weren’t trying to be quiet - there wasn’t a point in it. The pleasure of Jungkook’s fingers were just highly overwhelming. Your pussy’s squelching loudly and the noise dances off his bedroom walls - when this was all over, you promised him that you’d clean his room top to bottom.

“You have such a pretty pussy, kitty.” Jungkook grunts, pressing a firm kiss on your clit. “I want you to cum all over me again. 

You’ve heard this all before from him, but each time you do, it causes you to whimper. Jungkook’s voice just does something to you - the way he speaks so calmly, but with such authority. His beautiful face and dark eyes that look right at you, rosy lips that often smirks when you’re moaning because he knows he’s fucking you good.

Jungkook connects his lips back onto your already throbbing clit, his tongue devouring instantly. He rolls it harshly, groaning along as his fingers thrust in and out.

In and out - in and out.

Your thighs are shaking, your hands continuing to grip at his dark hair. Your head falls back against the pillows and you let out a long moan.

You ponder how things were going to go back to normal between you and Jungkook. How could you pretend to hate him when you’ve been fucked too good by him - a bunny hybrid. His ego was going to go through the roof now and Yuna and Namjoon would know just how amazing he was.

Fuck.

You were cumming, Jungkooks warm tongue twirling around your sensitive bud effortlessly. You were beginning to hate him again with how amazing he was with his cock, tongue and fingers - it just wasn’t fair how all of this could be tied to one annoying man.

Jungkook knows you well enough that you want his cock next. He pushes himself up and forces your legs to your shoulders. You're so wet that his cock slides right into you, your arousal seeping out with each inch of his cock.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate - and you don’t want him to. He slides out of you until his tip is still inside and then slams right back in, hitting your sweet spot.

Your lips part  to let out a strangled moan. Jungkook does it again and again, slamming his cock in and out of your sweet pussy, wet skin slapping against one another. Jungkook’s balls, full of enough cum to give you more and more just how you like, slam against your ass with each thrust. Your breasts bounce right in his line of view and Jungkook imagines how good they’d look swelled up with milk.

Jungkook groans. It was natural for him to want to breed - even if it was with a person of a different species. The babies would be either or - feline or hare; the feline trait was the dominant trait of the two. It was at this moment he hadn’t thought about the consequences of doing this without any protection, his natural instincts kicking in.

“You’d look so pretty round with kits.” Jungkook groans, his eyes drifting to your stomach. “Or kittens - whatever they’d be.”

Your pussy clenches at the thought, your heat clouding your mind from sanity. You only thought about his pumping cock milking your walls with his seed again - and again and again until your stomach is round.

“Your tits would grow bigger for our kits. Full of milk…” Jungkook cannot help it anymore. He leans down to wrap his tongue around your nipple, imagining the way they’d taste if they were full of milk.

Your sights are blurry. It was all too much - Jungkook’s dirty words with his pumping cock and now his tongue suckling onto your breast as if his life depended on it. You were cumming again with each sloppy thrust of Jungkook’s hips sending you deeper and deeper over the edge.

“Fuck you’re so pretty when you come, kitty.” Jungkook groans, popping your nipple from his wet lips.

“‘wanna feel you cum in me, Kookie.” you beg, thighs already shaking.

Of course you did, Jungkook thinks. You wanted his cum from the very beginning and who was he to not give it to you? You were such a good girl when you were in heat, completely different from your usually bitchy self that he adored that he couldn’t help but give you whatever you asked for.

Jungkook cums, his legs shaking and eyes snapping shut. His breathing is intense as cum seeps into you.

Your eyes are heavy, your pussy clenching and unclenching every so often to take in all of Jungkook’s warm cum.

“You’re going to be so pissed when you’re off of your heat, kitty.” Jungkook murmurs, still cumming into your warm cunt. 

Kits or kittens didn’t sound too bad, right?

@investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom

[thisrots]

── ⊹ ࣪ ˖♡˖ ࣪ ⊹ ──

a different kind of busy

councilor!sevika x assistant!reader

; warnings: nsfw, sub!(fighting for her dominance)sevika, dom!(taunting)reader, oral, fingering, sex in her office, almost getting caught

; 1.7k words

── ⊹ ࣪ ˖♡˖ ࣪ ⊹ ──

Sevika was usually a dominant woman.

Her muscular body, strength, hardened eyes, booming voice that shook everyone to their core, everything about her screamed dominance. That was the Sevika you’d grown to know, too. As her assistant, you spent hours upon hours suffocated by her presence. Cleaning up after her, arranging her files, dealing with her bitching, you name it. It was always on you, which was very fucking annoying. The way she looked down at you as she spoke, smirking with that stupid smug look plastered on her face as she ordered you around.

But today, as you spread her slippery thighs apart under her desk, slick heat pulsating under your touch as your tongue circled around her clit, she had a whole different expression on her face. Sure, she still looked down at you, but this twisted up look was of… desperation. Of need, want, desire, damn near submission. Gods, did that face make wetness pool up in your panties. Her glasses were a little foggy, just barely hanging onto her nose as she stared down at you, your lips pursed onto her puffy bud as you worked your tongue around it, suckling and smacking noises filling up the room.

Her fingers twitched against the chair handles, trying her best to hang onto any composure she had left in her, although her glassy puppy eyes showed otherwise. A dark pink flush spread throughout her face, mouth hanging open, letting out soft moans and pants that slipped out of her mouth, scrunching her face up every time they would to fight against the pleasure. Poor thing was just too lost in the intensity, she was almost over the edge. “F-Fuck—” She groaned out, your tongue traveling a little south, poking at her entrance.

“What is it, Ms. Sevika?” You taunted, your tongue grazing over the wet, tight hole. You breathed in her musk, blowing out warm air against her cunt as you teased. She shook her head, shivering as she looked away, her hands covering her eyes under her glasses.

“Put—Put it in—” Sevika muttered between hitching breaths, refusing to meet your gaze.

You smirked, feeling oh so good about yourself as you stared at the woman that was once ruining your life completely wrapped around your finger, flustered and demanding for more. “What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you, Councilor.”

She huffed, taking off her glasses and throwing them on the desk, looking down at you with furrowed brows as your lips hovered over her leaky entrance. She bucked her hips up, her slick dampening your mouth as she pushed herself onto you, desperate for your touch. “Put your tongue inside me—Just—”

And just as you decided to fulfill her wish, echoing footsteps could be heard nearing her door. Her eyes widened as she pushed herself into the desk, hands erratically looking for her glasses, your face practically smothered in her cunt. “Mmh! Hey! What about me?!” You whisper yelled, causing her to lightly hit your thigh with her foot.

“Stay down there, don’t make a peep. You can do that much, can’t you?” She ordered, putting on her higher power voice for whoever was about to walk in. You scoffed at the change of tone, rolling your eyes as she readied herself by pretending to read over some documents. You heard a knock before a creak of the door.

“Councilor Sevika, are you busy? I’ve got some files for your assistant to look over and organize for you. Do you know where she’s at?” A voice asked, not that you really gave a fuck who it was. Your mind was on Sevika and breaking her apart, so that’s exactly what you were going to do. You swallowed down your pride and slowly pushed two fingers against her hole, tongue quietly attaching to her clit again, swirling around it. Her body jolted a bit, clearing her throat before she spoke, fighting every nerve in her body that screamed of pleasure.

“Right, right. She’s a little busy right now—” She started, trying her best to hold back every moan that wanted to slip out of her mouth. “Give ‘em here, I’ll make sure she gets them. A-Anything else?” She said, her voice hardened, yet you could hear the truth behind it. That small stutter that wasn’t in her usual ‘barking orders’ tone told you everything you needed to know. You pushed your fingers in, curling them against her spongy g-spot as you fucked in and out of her. As much as she seemed like a giver, she sure was taking you well, tight hole clenched around your digits as you pumped. Her thighs quivered, legs spreading out even more, making sure to move slow to keep quiet. Her hands gripped onto the desk a bit, gulping hard, hoping to Gods they wouldn’t have anything else to say.

You could hear their footsteps growing closer, setting the papers down in front of Sevika before they began to walk away. “No, that’s all.” They opened the door again, about to walk out, before, “Are you feeling alright, Sevika? You look a little… Out of it.”

She scoffed, looking over in their direction, giving the best ‘resting bitch face’ she could make. “I’m doing fine. If that’s all, I have work to get done.”

The door creaked shut. Silence washed over the two of you, stopping altogether as you both waited to hear the footsteps disappear. She suddenly pushed the chair back, revealing your cocky smirk, tongue licking up the leftover juices on your lips. She growled, eyebrows furrowing as she fought an internal battle of what exactly she wanted to say next.

You tutted, shaking your head as your fingers stayed still inside her. “Oh, Councilor,” You started, leaning towards her clit, speaking just above it. “What would everyone think if they saw you like this, hm? All broken and needy for me?” Your breath made her clit twitch, her upper lip curled up in anger.

“Just shut up and keep going,” Sevika instructed, making your eyebrow raise as you blinked at her command.

“You know, I should really get started on those files,” You said as you began to pull your fingers out, causing her to gasp slightly, reaching out to grip onto your wrist.

“No! Just—” She sighed, almost like she was giving in, like she regretted snapping at you when all she really wanted to do was melt against you. “Please? Can you please keep going?”

You smiled at her ‘Please?’, her voice filled with neediness, expression almost pouty as she asked. “See?” You said, fingers slowly entering her again, mouth just centimeters away from her cunt. “Not so hard to ask for what you want, is it, Ms. Sevika?” You began to lap on her bud once more, fingers working their way inside her, the obscene noises of her slick filling up the room.

You could see the exact moment when she broke, when whatever dignity she had left went out the door. The second your fingers reached the furthest they could inside, the glare she’d shot at your response melted away, shattering into nothing but a whiny moan. Her back arched, a breathy groan pushed out of her throat as her face twisted up in pleasure. She should feel embarrassed, should fight back. But all she could do was spread her legs wider, letting the pleasure swallow her whole. Your skirt were a mess, sticky with arousal, heat radiating off of your cunt as you watched the scariest lady in Zaun break down in front of you, her cream clinging onto your fingers. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Sevika breathed out, her chest rising and falling quickly, making a complete mess as her wetness dripped along the ground.

You did not plan on stopping, you wanted nothing more than for her to come in your mouth. To swallow all her juices, to analyze and remember the exact face she made when she reached her orgasm because of you. “Please, please, please…!” She begged between broken moans, and oh how pretty did her voice sound, making your heart flutter with every plead. You could feel her walls tightening around your digits, her clit tense and enlarged in your mouth as her moans picked up. Each thrust of your fingers pushed her closer to the edge, her breath hitching in her throat as she fought to maintain control. You could tell she was right there, so close it probably almost pained her, keeping the same rhythm as you continued.

With a strangled, guttural moan, Sevika’s body finally gave in. She trembled as waves of pleasure ripped through her, leaving her too dizzy to think straight. “G-Gonna fuckin’ c-come!” Is all she let out before her back arched sharply, gripping onto the arm rests so hard her mechanical arm scratched up the wood. Her thighs quivered, spasming against your cheeks as her orgasm washed over her. Her face, usually so commanding, was contorted in pure, unguarded pleasure.

The moment stretched, her breath ragged, each pulse of pleasure sending shivers through her. She gasped, sweat dripping down her face, and for just a moment, she was no longer Councilor Sevika, she was just a woman who’d just come undone by your touch. As you pulled away and her body began to settle, the realization of it all hit her like a truck, cheeks flushed and unable to look at your cocky gaze. “Councilor Sevika,” You smirked, your tone almost mockingly, wiping her excess from your lips. “You sound really pretty when you say please, you know that?”

The sound of her own name coming from your mouth made her throat tighten, quickly regaining her composure as she shifted up in her chair, trying her best to make it look like nothing happened. But the evidence of her release—warm, sticky slick dripping down her thighs—was there to prove otherwise.

“Shut up,” Sevika growled, though her response lacked her usual force. It was softer, almost had a bit of embarrassment to it. She quickly adjusted her clothes, trying to cover herself, but the lingering flush in her cheeks told a different story. Fuck, this was only the beginning of something you’d been dreaming of for ages.

[xo2dee]

🗨️ LAMBENT

PAIRING: Sukuna/(Fem)Reader. WARNINGS: True Form!Sukuna, Pregnant!Reader, Heian Era Customs, Pregnancy, Mentions of Cannibalism, Sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect). WORD COUNT: 3,767. SUMMARY: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.

A/N: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍

JJK MASTERLIST

Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.

You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.

…Husband.

In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.

You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.

One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.

Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.

You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”

Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”

A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”

And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”

Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”

“Yes, but –”

“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”

Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”

“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.

“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).

Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).

You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”

Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”

Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”

And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.

Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”

Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”

“My Lady – oh!”

Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.

Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.

You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”

Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”

You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.

A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”

You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”

Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"

In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.

Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”

Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.

Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.

And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.

Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.

You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”

“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.

“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”

How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.

An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.

Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.

Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.

You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”

Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.

You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.

Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.  

“What –”

“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”

He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.

Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…

“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.

“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”

Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”

“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”

You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.

Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.

In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”

Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.

Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”

You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.

With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.

[edensrose]

𐔌 𖹭 𝑱𝑱𝑲 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕 & 𝑺𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝑫𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒄𝒔 ˖ ࣪✧

ᡴꪫ. what're they like in bed ? 𖹭 g. satoru, g. suguru, i. shoko, i. utahima, t. yuki, n. kento, k. shiu 𖹭 f. reader ˖ ࣪ꮽ˳

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Satoru Gojo ۪ ୧ top dom leaning switch. fucks hard, he's got a lot of frustration to get out + he loves seeing your pretty eyes go dumb. please piss him off, he loves the idea that someone actually can. however, has a soft spot for lazy morning and sweet, sensual night sex. he enjoys doing the work and making you feel good but ! will not be opposed to you taking lead . . . if you fight him for it. what, you expect him to just give it to you?

. ۫ ۶ৎ .

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Suguru Geto ۪ ୧ top dom. don't try to take control, you will fail, he will laugh at you. more into the hard dom and can be really damn mean. brat taming? watch yourself, he has a particular love for putting you in your place. he is such a damn tease it's insane. we only believe in pervert suguru on this blog, he will do some of the nastiest things like keeping your panties in his pocket or touching you under a table.

. ۫ ۶ৎ .

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Shoko Ieiri ۪ ୧ switch, pleasure seeker. will honestly change depending on your preference, she's pretty chill with it. while she does have a particular love for relieving whatever stress you may harbour, she's not opposed to you putting her on her back. gets very touchy, will leave you marked up in her lipstick after quickies. not very outwardly submissive but oh can she run with that top/dom title. will use the strap on you! prefers if you scissor her though.

. ۫ ۶ৎ .

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Utahime Iori ۪ ୧ bottom sub. please let her be a pillow princess she's tired and stressed. also a bit inexperienced as a general so might fumble a bit but she's definitely very into it! guide her a little and she'll do whatever you want. gets a tad bit jealous which will result in her getting a bit 'assertive' with you which turns laughable once you introduce some tongue and get her legs all trembling again.

. ۫ ۶ৎ .

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Yuki Tsukumo ۪ ୧ TOP. DOM. look at that woman and tell me she wouldn't pin you down by the thighs. she's sooo sweet with it too, giving you little winks and croons while her fingers are being so mean between your legs. you never know what to expect with her she's beyond unpredictable. one moment you're cuddling and she's being the sweetest — the next? over her face. literally so obsessed with your pleasure ( and making you teary )

. ۫ ۶ৎ .

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Kento Nanami ۪ ୧ top dom. now he woudn't be opposed to you taking control if you asked him, but he prefers to be the one calling the shots. it just relaxes him you know? with that being said, his dynamic is whiplash. he's so tender and gentle . . . with his words and foreplay. the second his dick's in? your legs will be weak and he'll show you just how mean he can be — while still keeping his tender words as if he isn't re-arranging your guts. also into brat taming but he actually makes you feel a bit bad about it with the way he scolds you while bullying your cunt.

. ۫ ۶ৎ .

˖ ࣪✧ ꘓ Shiu Kong ۪ ୧ top dom and prefers to keep it that way. he's too old and tired to deal with you trying to one-up him so don't try. it will end with you on his lap while he idly smokes his cigarette and makes you do the work. that's his brat taming. why should he give you what you want when you act up? teasing bastard who lovvess making you beg for it. lazy and effortless with it until he's either got his head between your legs or you're sprawled out on his dick. and even then.

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

[chuxmy]

Hiii could I request Baku smut where reader is on the unions team and There’s a lot of tension between her and Baku

Smoke and Fire

Pairings: Park Humin (Baku) x Fem!Reader

Summary: The intense build-up between you and Baku finally breaks.

Warnings: Explicit smut, rough sexual tension, enemies to lovers vibes, dirty talk, dominance/submission themes, language, mdni

You could always feel him watching you.

Baku wasn’t subtle about it. Never had been. Not since you first walked into Baekjin’s inner circle and dared to speak without being told to. Not since you showed up to a fight with blood on your knuckles and that satisfied little smirk still sitting on your lips.

He hated you.

Which meant you had him exactly where you wanted him.

“You’re staring again,” you said one night, flicking your cigarette ash onto the floor like you owned the damn warehouse.

He didn’t respond. Typical.

You let your eyes drift to where he leaned against the wall arms crossed, eyes sharp, lips in that permanent scowl. His jaw twitched when your gaze lingered.

You grinned. “I should start charging you for the attention.”

“I should tape your mouth shut,” he muttered under his breath.

You laughed, slow and low, and stepped closer just to test him. “And miss out on all the filthy things you want to hear from it? Shame.”

That jaw of his tightened again. Bingo.

Later that night, Baekjin told the two of you to clean up after a fight just you and Baku, surrounded by blood, broken glass, and furniture in ruins. You were both banged up but still standing. And still stubborn.

You bent to pick up a broken bottle, your shirt riding up just enough to show skin. You could feel his eyes on you like a second heat.

When you stood and turned, you caught him midglance. He didn’t look away fast enough.

“Caught you again,” you teased, stepping right into his space. “You want something, Baku?”

He didn’t move. Just glared. “You talk too much.”

“You think too much,” you countered, brushing a hand up his chest. “Your problem is you’re scared to do what you really want.”

He grabbed the wall beside your head with one hand, trapping you in. Your heart thudded, but you didn’t let it show.

“You don’t know what you’re playing with,” he growled.

You looked him dead in the eyes, a wicked grin tugging at your lips. “I do. That’s why I’m still playing.”

And that’s when he snapped.

His mouth was on yours like a crash hot, hungry, furious. You kissed him back just as hard, your teeth clashing, fingers tangled in his jacket. He tasted like frustration and control barely held, and you wanted more.

His hands were under your shirt in seconds, rough palms sliding up your ribs, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you gasp into his mouth. He yanked your shirt up halfway and bit down on your lip until you whimpered.

“You like being a brat, don’t you?” he muttered, lips dragging down your throat. “Just begging to be put in your place.”

“I like watching you try,” you said, nails scraping down his neck.

He lifted you like it was nothing, gripping your thighs tight and pinning you against the nearest desk. Your back hit cold wood, and papers flew as he shoved them aside.

You stared up at him your breath quick, heart racing, but still in control. “Come on, then. Show me how much you hate me.”

He didn’t hesitate. Your jeans were gone in seconds. So were his. You didn’t even take your underwear off, he just shoved yours aside and lined himself up, fingers digging into your thighs.

Then he was inside you in one deep, punishing thrust.

You cried out, head falling back against the desk, the stretch sending heat up your spine. He was thick, deep, and rough from the start.

“You’ve been soaked since the second you walked in,” he said, voice ragged. “Weren’t you the one acting like you didn’t want this?”

You moaned, hips arching up to meet his thrusts. “Didn’t say I didn’t. I just wanted to see how long you could hold back.”

His fingers found your clit, rubbing fast, teasing and relentless. Your head was spinning his rhythm brutal, his hand skilled, his mouth dragging along your throat with little bites that promised bruises.

He was everywhere. Inside you, over you, owning you.

“I should keep you like this,” he growled, thrusting harder. “Mouth shut. Legs open.”

“You’d miss my mouth,” you whispered, gripping his shirt as he pounded into you. “You’re obsessed with it.”

“Damn right I am.”

He drove into you faster, the desk shaking beneath your back. You were close so close your whole body trembling as heat coiled tight in your core.

When it hit, it hit hard.

You came with a strangled moan, legs locked around him, nails digging into his back. Your whole body clenched, and he cursed under his breath, fucking you through it as you pulsed around him.

Then he followed, hips jerking, body shuddering as he came deep inside you with a low, guttural growl that sent chills down your spine.

For a few seconds, there was only breathing. Skin against skin. The echo of heat still in the air.

Then you opened your mouth.

“Told you you’d snap first.”

He looked down at you, still catching his breath, and rolled his eyes. “Next time I bring duct tape.”

You smirked, lazy and satisfied, fingers still playing with the hem of his shirt. “You can try. But then you wouldn’t get to hear me moan your name.”

He growled and kissed you again rough, bruising, addictive.

And deep down, you already knew..

There would be a next time.

[slutzforbueckers]

paige is a little exhausted from her big leadership role on the team and having to takeover in games. because of this she wants y/n to take charge and dominate her in the bedroom. like she is begging for it, on her stomach taking strap, maybe a little degradation and to just really lean into that submission from her. just as rough as you're comfortable writing.

let loose — p.b x fem!reader

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut

synopsis: paige comes home from a tiring game and you make it your mission to help her relax.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

you sat on the sofa with your phone in hand, you were scrolling through tiktok watching all the edits of tonights game. you couldn't make it to the actual game due to all the work you had to do but you did let it play on the tv in the background, tuning in every once in a while. the game was a rough one, you could see it on the girls faces, but nonetheless they won.

the sound of the front door slamming shut caused you to lift your head, you looked over your shoulder to see your girlfriend heading straight to your bedroom. paige didn't bother to speak, too tired and frustrated to open her mouth.

she slammed the bedroom door shut which made you toss your phone aside and make your way to the room. when you opened the door you spotted her laying flat on her stomach with her head buried in the pillows. you frowned at how exhausted she looked and quietly stepped into the room, closing the door behind you as gentle as you could.

you crawled in bed next to her and propped yourself up on your side, placing your right hand on her back and gently running lines up and down. paige hummed and turned her head to look at you, her eyes low with exhaustion.

“you played good.” you spoke softly, trying to lift her mood a bit. it didn’t work, paige just shrugged her shoulders and closed her eyes again. you took the moment to study her face, noticing the lines in her forehead from how she scrunched up her face and the slight frown on her lips.

you sat up and tossed your leg over her to straddle her back. you ran your hands up her back, noticing how tense she was, and to her hair so you could let her hair down. paige could admit that not having the tension of the ponytail in helped her relax a bit, evident by the way she sighs as her hair fell.

“that better?” you asked, running your fingers through her hair. paige hummed and nodded her head. you ran your hands up under her shirt and started to massage her muscles. “what else can i do?”

there was a moment of silence while you waited for her to answer, and then she spoke. a few quick, incoherent words flew past her lips and she buried her head into the pillows. you paused your hands and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“what did you say?” you asked, leaned into her to make sure you could hear this time. paige groaned and lifted her head, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“i wanna cum.” she said quickly and dropped her head back down. you stilled in shock, those being the last words you expected to hear tonight. you were silent for a minute while you gathered yourself.

“will that make you feel better?” you asked, taking your hands out from under her shirt and moving off her back. paige turned her head to look at you and nodded her head quickly. you bit your lip and nodded your head. “okay, i can do that.”

you leaned down and started to press soft kisses to her shoulder, moving along to her cheek and eventually her lips. paige pushed into you and you pushed back, you brought your hand up to cup her jaw and pushed her back until you were able to straddle her lap.

you gently tugged at her bottom lip with your teeth to get access to enter your tongue and with a barely audible whimper she let you in without a fight. you pulled back just enough to have her chasing your lips, grabbing at your hips in efforts to keep you on her. you opened your eyes to look at her before wrapping your hand around her throat and pushing her back down against the pillows, your lips crashing back into hers with more force than before.

paige could already feel the stress and pressure dissipating the longer you kissed her. the breath she released was shaky as you moved your lips over her cheek and down her jawline. you ran your hands under her shirt while you kissed the side of her neck. she arched into you when you pushed your hands under her bra.

you could feel her pulse on your lips, you could feel how her heart was racing but you knew it was for a good reason. she needed you and you weren’t going to deny her. you pulled your hands from under her shirt and moved off of her. “take your clothes off.”

she didn’t have to be told twice. paige sat up and immediately pulled her shirt over her head, followed by her bra, then her shorts, and finally her panties. you watched intently as she exposed herself to you. the second she had all of her clothes tossed somewhere off the bed, you were back on her.

“take yours off, please.” she whined, her hands already tugging your shirt up. you gave her what she wanted and tossed your clothes somewhere behind you. paige spread her legs and reached for your hand, she pressed your hand against her wet cunt and started to rock her hips into your hand slowly. “i need it, please.”

you sucked your teeth and shook your head, pushing her hand off of yours. you moved your hand so you could see how wet she was, not that you couldn’t feel it. “what do you need, paige? use your words.”

“i need to cum. i need your mouth, fingers, just something.” she begged. you hummed in satisfaction and brought your finger back to her cunt, running your fingertips through her slick and over her swollen clit. her thighs twitched as you lazily toyed with her clit, a quiet whimper leave her. “i need you to fuck me, please.”

you tore your eyes away from her pussy and looked her in the eye. it wasn’t often she wanted to use the strap—whether it was on you or her— she preferred to feel you directly. so, you always took the opportunity when it was presented.

paige groaned softly when you pulled away but quickly shut up when she realized you were going to get what she wanted. her eyes followed you to the closet and back, she watched as you fastened the harness on your body. paige reached out for you the second you were back within reach, pulling you back closer to her.

you leaned down and started to pepper kisses over her flushed skin. while you started to trace her hardened nipple with your tongue, you slid your middle finger into her simultaneously. paige released a breathy moan, her hand coming to rest at the back of your head. you switched sides to give her other tit the same attention.

you added another finger to the mix, earning a louder moan from the blonde. you started to move lower, kissing and running your tongue along her abs. you had always been obsessed with them, you had ridden them more times than you could count.

when your face was finally level with her cunt you immediately attached your mouth to her clit. the feeling of both your mouth and fingers had paige writhing, her hips starting to rut against your face. you glared at her, landing a harsh slap on her inner thigh. paige gasped at the sudden sting, a heat spreading throughout her body. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stop.”

“no! i’m sorry— don’t stop, please. please don’t stop.” her words came out so fast you almost couldn’t understand what was said. you draped your arm over her pelvis and pinned her down so she couldn’t move. times like this—when she really let you take control— made you grateful you didn’t have roommates.

paige wasn’t necessarily quiet when she was on the receiving end of the pleasure. well, she wasn’t quiet either way but she was louder when you pleased her. she made sure you knew how good you made her feel, how she loved every flick of your tongue and every curl of your fingers.

“m’so close.” she moaned, her hands fisting the sheets as she could feel herself quickly getting closer. you waited until you figured she was right on the edge before you pulled away, ripping her orgasm away from her. paige let out a choked moan as the build up of pleasure dissipated, her eyes flying open and she looked down at you. “why’d you stop?”

“you wanted me to fuck you, right?” you sat up from between her legs and moved off to the side of her, sitting up with your legs folded underneath you. paige nodded her head at your question, her gaze lowering to the strap between your legs. your nodded down, gesturing to the strap. paige positioned herself in front of you and wrapped her hand around the base of the strap.

you ran your fingers through her hair and gently nudged her forward. she pressed her lips to the tip of the dick, her tongue darting out to trace the underside. paige wrapped her lips around the strap, looking up at you as she started to lower her head. you used your grip on her hair to help guide her movements.

“there you go,” you cooed. you pushed her head down a bit more, making her gag and a stray tear to roll down her cheek. she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. “what would everyone say if they knew how much of a slut you are, hm?”

paige moaned at your words, removing her hand from around the strap and placing them on your thighs. she was essentially giving you control, no longer moving her head. you started to lift your hips, moving her head to meet your thrust. her nails dug into your thighs and she looked up at you with watery eyes.

you bit down on your bottom lip and tugged her hair back, pulling her mouth off of you. you couldn’t help but groan at the way a string of spit connected the strap to her plump, pink lips and her eyes were glossed over with tears that hadn't fell.

"fuck, paige. lay down." you hardly gave her time to move on her own before you were pushing her down and flipping over so she was on her stomach. you placed your hand on her hip and lifted her up so her ass was slightly in the air, creating a small arch in her back. you wrapped your hand around the spit covered strap and guided the tip to her entrance, pressing your hips forward and sliding in.

"oh my god-" paige moaned at the stretch, her hands fisting the sheets beside her head. you stopped when you were halfway in to give her a moment to breathe. you ran your hands over her ass in the meantime. it seemed she didn’t need much time to adjust because a couple minutes later she was attempting to press back into you.

you pressed your hips forward and slid in to the hilt. you paused for a second before pulling back until just the tip was in and thrust back in. paige let out a strangled moan as you found a rhythm. her body was buzzing from how good she felt, she no longer thought about how she carried the weight of her team on her shoulders. she loved that she could just let go with you.

“h-harder, please, need more.” you grabbed her hips and lifted her up a bit, starting to fuck into her harder like she asked. the new angle caused the strap to shift and brush against her g-spot again and again. paige’s jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back, a moan— that was loud enough the neighbors could probably hear— flying past her lips. “right there— shit! don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“right here?” you taunted, thrusting back in to the same spot. paige nodded her head dumbly, pressing her head into the mattress. you sucked your teeth and shook your head, slapping her ass hard. “use your fucking words.”

“yes! yes yes— s’so good! i’m so close, please— wanna cum!” her words were slurred and almost muffled from the way her cheek was pressed against the bed. she brought a hand down and started to rub quick, messy circles on her clit. paige was a whiny mess at this point, her words barely even words anymore. you rocked into her harder and you could feel her getting closer to the edge, her walls starting to close in on your cock and making it harder to move.

“go ahead, baby. cum for me.” you moaned, slapping her ass once more. you didn’t have to tell her twice. she let out a moan, that was nearing a scream, as her thighs started to shake. you kept fucking into her until you physically couldn’t, her cunt pushing you out with a gush of liquid. paige went limp, not being able to hold herself up. you couldn’t help the way you moaned at the sight of how wet everything was—her thighs, your thighs, the sheets underneath you. “oh my fuck.”

paige panted as she tried to catch her breath, she gathered enough strength to pull a pillow over her head to hide the way her face turned red with embarrassment. you had never seen her squirt before, you could feel your ego rising. you couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from your chest.

“stop laughing.” paige groaned, lifting the pillow off her head to toss it back at you. you mumbled a sorry and bit your lip to suppress your laugh. you helped her flip over so you could see her face.

“that was hot, p. must’ve felt good, huh?” you leaned over her and started to pepper kisses all over her face. she lightly shoved your shoulder and groaned, but she had a satisfied smile on her face the whole time. you pressed a loving kiss to her lips before leaning back to look into her eyes, getting serious now. “do you feel better? no more stress?”

paige nodded her head and ran her fingers up your arm, a soft hum leaving her. “much better.”

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

[kinichval]

cw: cockwarming, blowjob, penetration, implied exhibitionism, implied breeding.

pro-valorant player!kinich loves having you sit prettily on his cock while he plays video games with his friends. you're just there, head nuzzled in his neck, arms falling from his shoulders to his back, and pussy warmly wrapped around his dick.

it's so hard not to bounce on it when you can't keep think of anything else but to have his attention, you feel like dying at every second that pass without movement.

kinich is way too occupied with fighting for victory, he's not a loud gamer, but when he drops a few curses here and there—it's sultry and deep, fuck, it makes your pussy flutter and soak his dick with more of your fluids.

each click of his keyboard when his fingers press certain keys burn into your ear drums as if any more of those sounds will send you off the edge and start grinding. sometimes you loathe those noises because why aren't his fingers plunging in you instead? but no—you must resist the urges.

maybe the thick air of heat and undying need to be fucked makes time slower than it actually is, but lucky for you, kinich won't let you wait any longer because when he sees 'victory' on his screen, he relishes on his reward and allows you to finally (and happily) bounce on his cock.

or sometimes pro-valorant player!kinich would love to have you sucking on his cock under his gaming desk while he's fighting for his life (and rank) on a ranked game.

this was a fantasy come true, you were way too shy in admitting this one, but thankfully kinich is just as enticed with the idea as you. the next thing you know, the underside of his desk is cleared up only for you claim residency in.

the pleasure from your mouth is like a wave through his body. his fast paced fingers were slightly offbeat when all that dominates in his mind is how good you feel around him, how pliant and submissive you are as you suck him off; now, it wouldn't be a nice trade if you give him the best head of his life, but he loses this round, no?

he could read the complaints from his teammates that his gameplay is amiss, they don't know if kinich is slacking off or the opponents are actually stronger. but he doesn't care—maybe a little bit, his goal is to reach radiant—when his pretty girl is bobbing her head on his dick and glancing up to him with your pretty doe eyes, it's your way of supporting him as you were not into gaming as much as he does.

the tension in his lower body competes with his beating heart. adrenaline rushes through his veins for two reasons: one more win and victory is theirs, and fuck, he's close to cumming.

and goodness gracious was it a scene out of a movie when 'victory' comes up on his screen as he cums inside the warm cavern of your throat. fuck, that was the best head of his life.

however, when 'defeat' is flashed on his screen right at the last win needed for him to finally get out of immortal, pro-valorant player!kinich wastes no time in putting you in between him and his computer set up. your hands on his desk, shirt bunched up, bottoms down on your ankles, and he's seeking for the comfort of your pussy. but damn, his thrusts are hard and mean, a reflection of his frustration from that bitter loss.

your whines and moans get louder as he hits your sweet spot over and over again. his mic may or may not be still on, but that's the least of your worries right now.

"fuck, can i come inside?"

[trivia-yandere]

ending one to "beast of busan"

alternate ending one to "beast of busan"

warning: non-con/dub-con, yandere jungkook, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie, orgasm, obsessive behavior, doggystyle, cow-girl, impregnation kink, face-slapping, rough sex, stockholm syndrome,

word count: 6.153

valentine's day masterlist

“I wanted it to come naturally, Y/N. But if you won’t comply, I’ll just force the submission out of you.” Before you could blink, Jungkook is forcing you up onto your feet. He drags you inside the home and slams the door shut behind him. He pushes you away from him and you stumble. Quickly, you swirl around to face him.

“Pick your choice, Y/N. You’re either going to listen to me or not.”

You inhale deeply.

You’re unsure what has gotten through you. Maybe it’s because Jungkook, in a way, has been lenient with you. This was a man who’s killed far too many people to count, and yet he’s allowing you to defy him until you’ve given him the answer he wants. What he’s done to you is child’s play as you understood what he’s truly capable of.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.” you hiss low, voice fully of venom.

Jungkook tilts his head a bit, watching you. 

“You’re going to have to kill me.”

“I would never.” Jungkook retorts with a scoff. “What’s gotten through to you? This self righteous act you’re portraying is cute.”

Jungkook begins to smirk as if you were a joke and it causes anger to seep through you. Without much thought, your sprint towards him once more. You attack him, punching and scratching at him like an animal. The flashes of how frightened you were of him while incarcerated go through you. The long nights of staying up because you knew people were watching you. The bloodied roses and disgusting letters all at the hands of him.

Jungkook doesn’t put up much of a fight, allowing you to attack him for nearly five minutes until he thinks you have enough. He wraps you in a tight embrace to stop your attacks. The nearest area is the living room and he throws your body right onto the loveseat. You squirm in his embrace but Jungkook doesn’t let up. “You’re so cute when you’re angry, baby.” he murmurs against the skin of your neck. “Your attacks don’t hurt me.”

Jungkook presses himself against you. “If anything, it excites me.” he murmurs right in your ear, assuring that he shows you just how excited he was. His bulge sits right on your clit, twitching with excitement. “You want to make things harder then so be it. I’m a patient man.”

Jungkook’s hips buckle once more, rubbing against your clit. His groan is low and daunting. His tongue pokes up to slowly lick onto your neck possessively, continuing to rock his hips.

“I’ll have to make you submit to me, baby. It wouldn’t be hard, you know?” Jungkook says, arms loosening so his hands can slide down the sides of your body. “You already want me to fuck you into submission. It’s that stubborn pride of yours that is fighting me.”

Jungkook pushes himself away from you so that he could easily tug off his pants - the plaid pajama shorts he often wears to bed. 

Your eyes were widening at his actions. You want to scream and fight, but it’s as though all the adrenaline left your body completely. You could only lay there as Jungkook undresses himself, greedy hands then placing themselves back onto your body. 

“That look in your eyes…”

Jungkook grumbles something inaudible under his breath, but your eyes have a hard time looking away from him. Mainly, what was between his legs. 

“…it’s so devilious, my love. It’s one of the main reasons why you caught my attention.”

Jungkook comes back down, his lips peppering such soft and sweet kisses onto your face. Kisses that should be foreign to a man such as him, but they aren’t. His right hand engulfs your breast with such greed. 

“Nothing scared you. Not your peers dropping like flies." Jungkook chuckles darkly as he speaks of the dead reporters and journalists he’s murdered.

Jungkook’s teeth sink into the nape of your neck and you let out a yelp when it begins to sting. You squirm beneath the man but that does nothing for him. He proceeds to press his now bare cock - hard and begging for any attention you’re willing to give it - against your clit. The pre-cum already oozes out and now meets your own arousal.

“I like when you fight me, Y/N.” Jungkook’s tongue licks over the bite mark on your neck, possessive behavior for a deranged man such as him. “You’re such a strong-willed woman and that’s what I love about you.”

You cannot suppress the moan that comes from your lips that you immediately regret. Your body was going to cloud your mind like before, and this time Jungkook wasn’t going to let you go. His cock rubs between your wet fold tenderly and the both of you shudder. 

“Are you going to continue to fight me?” 

Your eyelids flutter a bit. You couldn’t want to look at Jungkook. You would be fair and not lie to yourself. He was handsome and it made everything harder than it needed to be. Why couldn’t he be a normal person? It would’ve been easier to open your legs with no remorse if he wasn’t who he was.

“You’re thinking too hard into it again, baby.” Jungkook quips with another thrust of his hips. 

Jungkook’s lips find yours in a second. He doesn’t intend to hold back his hunger for you any longer. He would’ve been more lenient if you hadn’t tried to run away - and fight him, but he loved the fight in you that he doesn’t mind. 

Jungkook's eager hands find their way from your breast towards your ass. He squeezes it tenderly in the palms of his hands, groaning against your moving lips. He holds you in place so his hips could jut against you, your juices coating his cock entirely that he couldn’t wait to have you.

“Jungkook,”

Jungkook’s teeth grazes your bottom lip before he hums a response. Your chest presses against his and your hands are on his shoulders. 

“Life would be easier for you if you’d just submit.” 

The kisses began once more, soft little pecks onto your chin and jaw. They’re so sickly sweet that for a moment, your mind forgets just who the man doing such a thing is. It’s though you and he were a loving couple who had an amazing start - how wrong it was. 

“I can tell you what you might be afraid of.” Jungkook murmurs. Your pussy is sopping wet and at this moment, he never wants to be away from you. Your skin still smells of the lotion you coat yourself in after your nightly showers and it’s intoxicating. “You might be afraid that you’ll like the way I fuck you.”

Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from letting out a whine. Without even realizing it, your hands grip his shoulders and wrinkle his shirt. It’s what causes Jungkook to chuckle because he was right, even if you didn’t want to see it for yourself.

“But it’ll be alright, baby. Don’t you want to feel good, again?” Jungkook loves the way your ass feels in the palms of his hands and it nearly hurts him to let it go. But he only moves away so he could remove his shirt and he tosses it aside.

Your swallow, your throat dry. You’ve only ever seen Jungkook shirtless for a short period of time and it was always from the back. You’d always avert your eyes before you’d ever had the chance to look any further. 

Now, however, there wasn’t averting your eyes. Jungkook was right in front of you, equally as bare as you are. It’s now that you allow your eyes to roam his body. His naked chest first, where you note there’s a few scars along his right collarbone. It’s far too late to turn back once your mind registers your hand had lifted to his chest and you traced the scar on his collarbone.

Jungkook’s eyes connect with yours for a second before you turn them away, a shy look drawing onto your face. You then turn the same eyes to his sleeve of tattoos. This is your first time actually seeing it in its entirety. It adds to the man that is Jeon Jungkook - the Beast of Busan. 

“You can touch me.” Jungkook murmurs, amusement in his voice. Your fingers lingered on his collarbone and even he could sense that you were curious.

You do, against your brain's best judgment, touch Jungkook. Both hands this time, first touching along his chest. Next, you go to his arms. The muscles flex a bit, half on instinct upon being touched and because Jungkook wants to impress you further. 

The more your hands roam onto Jungkook’s body, the more your mind screams at you to stop. This was an attempt to distract you. These same biceps you’re marveling belong to the man who’s murdered without a second thought. 

You inhale through your lips and exhale through your nose. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, hands having roamed upwards. You glance back to those dark eyes just as he comes closer to you, both hands on either side of your head.

“I hate you.” you speak softly, the words coming out a mere whimper. From his shoulders, you glide your hands up to his neck and entangle your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook snickers and licks his lips. You touching him feels good - amazing, even. It’s something he’s longed for since he saw you for the first time on the news and now he has it, along with your undivided attention.

“I know, baby.” Jungkook responds before capturing your lips in a heated kiss. This time, it’s one you return with the same amount of passion.

Jolts of electricity flow through you rapidly, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist just as his arms wrap around you. His hips rut against you repeatedly, shaft sliding between your folds with such intensity that you gasp. His tongue digs into your mouth and dances along with yours, fighting for dominance that you were positive Jungkook was going to win.

Regret was going to seep through you when your lustful high was done and you’re sure you’d want nothing more than to roll over and die. As of right now, there was no denying that you wanted Jungkook as much as he wanted you. At least your body did. The sane part of your mind was slowly slipping away into oblivion with each passing second of you being with him.

“I hate you so fucking much.” you groan when Jungkook lifts his lips from you for a breather. 

“It’s okay,” Jungkook grunts. “I love you.”

“N-No you don’t.” you say, even if the words do cause your heart to jolt a bit faster in your chest. “You’re an obsessed piece of shit.”

Jungkook finds your words amusing, mainly because they were true. He was obsessed with you, his barely sane mind not truly understanding why. What he did know was that you captivated his thoughts on a daily basis; over and over and over again.

“I am obsessed with you, baby. Is it that obvious?” Jungkook couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He needed to be inside of you. Without lifting himself away from your warm embrace, he dips his right hand down between the two of you so he can grasp his hardened cock and center it at your entrance. “Every fiber of my being is obsessed with you. I’ve killed for you.”

Jungkook begins to enter you as he speaks and you gasp. Your right hand grips the back of his hair as he enters you ever so slowly until his cock is fully inside of you.

“Fuck,” Jungkook’s voice sounds animalistic as he begins to thrust inside of you. His right hand holds onto your outer thigh, his forehead pressed against yours. “fuck you’re so perfect, baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his way with words. His hips begin to snap in you at an alarming pace, skin slapping echoing across the walls of the home. Your pussy grips around his cock so heavenly that he doesn’t want to ever stop or be without you entirely. 

“Shut up.” you moan, un-gripping his hair so your hand can roam his chest. Was Jungkook always this…ripped? Maybe his time incarcerated he only gained more - which wasn’t fair. It added to the attraction and you hated him (and yourself) for it.

“No. I don’t deserve you but I’m a selfish man.” Jungkook enjoys the way your hand roams his chest. Your palm is soft and if he could brand it right onto his chest, he would. “And I won’t allow anyone else to have you.”

Red flag, but you’re far too fucked out to truly care right now. Especially not when Jungkook pushes himself back and forces your legs apart so he can get deeper access inside of you. His hand lays right underneath your knees, pressing them up to your shoulders, rutting his hips so his cock presses against your sweet spot.

“So beautiful, baby.” Jungkook grunts, blown out eyes watching the way your breast bounces as he fucks you, shirt is scrunched up against your chin. “I’ll kill anyone for you.”

You clench around Jungkook because of those words, such disgustingly heinous confession that for some reason causes you to grow even wetter. You’d always thought you’d want a partner that would kill for you - except, not in the literal sense. 

Jungkook meant it entirely too literal.

“You’re not a good person, Kook.”

The nickname was new, far too personal. Intimate. You don’t catch it but Jungkook did. He groans, pounding in you at a faster pace. “I never said I was, my love. You can hate me all you want but this pussy loves me.”

Jungkook removes himself from you so he doesn’t cum. Not yet, he thinks. He forces you up from the couch so he can turn you around and shove you right back onto it. He enters you once more, your ass arching perfectly for him.

The new position was damning and you find yourself squealing. The floorboards creaks with each rut of Jungkook’s hips. His hands squeeze around your waist to keep you right in place for him.

Your ass is amazing from this view and Jungkook’s throat releases inhuman noises. There’s a milky ring around his cock that he witnesses in between thrusts. Your pussy is so tight and wet that there isn’t any possible way he couldn’t stop just fuck you this once.

“You hurt me when you said those things about me in that interview.”

Your hands dig into the fabric of the couch. It felt as if Jungkook’s cock was in your stomach, drilling you so deep and deliciously. 

“After all I’ve done for you, I wouldn’t stay in prison if you would’ve just come back to me.”

A hand wraps around your neck and yanks you back. Your back slams against Jungkook’s chest, and even then does Jungkook not halt his abusive thrusts. Your smaller hand places itself on top of Jungkook’s on your neck.

“I ruined my reputation with my story about you.” you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, releasing a few struggles curse words at how good Jungkook was at fucking you. It’s insane to think that all your mind can muster up is wanting to continue with this - to have him fuck you in any positon he wanted as long as he continued with that pace. “People called me…such awful names.”

“I’ll kill them.” Jungkook grumbles, squeezing your neck a bit. “Just tell me.”

Shit.

Your thighs widen a bit and your head turns so you're coming face to face with Jungkook. He’s surprised that you initiated this kiss this time, but he doesn’t dwell on it. Any moment he has to kiss you, he will. 

“You’re such an asshole.” you hiss against his lips, pecking it once more. “You don’t…fuck,”

You’re unsure where the adrenaline or the power comes from. You push Jungkook away from you and turn to face him. He’s a bit stunned at your sudden actions, but when you push him towards the couch and sit right on top of him, he doesn’t complain.

“You-”

You enter Jungkook’s cock right in you with one movement, a hand on his shoulders. You let out a soft huff, head pulled back.

“-oh fuck.” Jungkook hisses as your hips buckle, rising and falling on his cock. “You’re so-”

Jungkook’s words are cut short when your hand collides with his cheek. It stings, but fuck did it feel good. Your hips continue to buckle, eyes looking into his own.

Licking his lips, Jungkook begins to thrust upwards to meet you halfway. “You can hit me again.” he says, the sting in his cheek feeling amazing because it came from you. “I know you hate me, baby. You hate how good my cock feels in you.”

You slap Jungkook again, his cheek glowing red, but he only keeps on. 

“You hate me but love my cock. You’re dripping all over me, baby.”

Jungkook says whatever to get a rise out of you, enjoying the way your hands feel against him - no matter how hard you hit him. Maybe it was what you needed, to feel in control of a situation for once.

“You’d look beautiful pregnant.”

The words itself stops you mid-slap. It’s an observation Jungkook says randomly, eyes slit. Once more, he’s gained control in this situation, fully taking over the thrusts.

“Fuck you.” you hiss, slapping your hand against the man's cheek once more. This time you keep it there, bouncing on Jungkook's cock as if your life depended on it. You hated the way your body reacts to his words - and Jungkook can tell.

“You hate me but deep down, you’d like that.” Jungkook laughs. “You’d like to be full of my cum, right? Big and swollen,” Jungkook groans and damn was his mind imagining it right now. You round with his child - something that was a part of you that he would cherish until the day he died. “carrying my baby. Fuck, baby, you’d be so beautiful.”

Your mind is screaming at you, more red-flags blaring right in front of your eyes, but your body is ignoring it because Jeon Jungkook was not just a good fucker, but he was a damn good talker, as well. You milk his cock perfectly, clenching at the thought of him breeding you right here.

“Your breasts will be full, too. You’d be perfect.”

Jungkook’s thrusts were sloppy. Just the thought of witnessing you round with his child, something so pure that an impure person like him could create, drives him crazy. He wasn’t going to last long and by the looks of it, neither were you.

“K-Kook,” you huff out.

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook leans forward to press wet, open mouth kisses against your chest. “Fuck, cum all over my cock, baby. It’s okay to let go.”

And you do, cumming all over his cock just as Jungkook told you to. Your body trembles, goosebumps littering your skin. Your eyes flutter a bit as Jungkook continues to fuck into you until he’s cumming. Milky substances coat your walls deeply, Jungkook not wanting a single drop of his seed out of you.

You fall against Jungkook’s chest, exhaustion flowing through you. You know soon the regret would come and so would the self-hatred. As of right now, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Jungkook places a hand onto the low of your back. He inhales your scent, satisfaction brewing throughout him. He gently begins to tap his fingers as his lips press against your forehead. 

This was just the beginning, Jungkook thinks. The beginning to an eventual end that meant that you’d always have a piece of him. Even if he wasn’t around.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.”

You’re unsure how long you’ve looked at yourself in the mirror for, your eyes barely recognizing the woman staring back at you. It takes you a few moments to blink and regain the moisture back into your eyes. 

You don’t have to turn your head to look at the man who’s speaking to you. You can see Jimin through his reflection in the mirror. He’s looking right at you, attempting to mask the obvious tint of concern in his eyes.

“I had blood thrown in my face, Jimin.” you murmur, the corner of your lips turning up a bit, but you’re the least bit amused. You sniffle a bit, glancing away from him as your mind replays the moment.

You suppose you couldn’t blame the public's reaction to you suddenly emerging from the scene. You were missing for months and suddenly you return - this time with child.

Your return caused a frenzy. Media outlets were going crazy trying to get your story. You were blasted all over newspapers. There were podcasts made about you, some you chose to not listen to as the conspiracy theories were heinous; but the truth was stranger than fiction.

“Just this once. Then,” you turn to face Jimin this time. He’s leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. “I’ll be out of the public eye.”

Jungkook being incarcerated once more meant that the fear he caused when he escaped slowly subsided, but that didn’t mean the side-eyes you received aren't noticeable. Hours of police interrogation on your “truth” and Jungkook being arrested and now in maximum security, it’s like now you’re left completely alone. You had Jimin, yes, but even Jimin has a look in his eyes that you know has a deeper meaning to it. Even if he’d never tell you.

Now, your hand places itself on your stomach. You were weeks from giving birth - a home birth was what you decided. You didn’t desire going to the hospital and being seen more than you had to be. Even now as you sit with stage lights shining in your face and cameras from different angles there’s nerves flowing through you. 

“Y/N, welcome back.”

The interviewer smiles at you. A fake-lipped smile that appears more so like a grimace as eyes rake over your appearance.

“It was almost a year ago when you sat in that very seat, right?” the interviewer asks and slowly you nod. You recalled how cocky you were to speak about Jungkook. How you called him a monster. It wasn’t a lie by any means, but you don’t have the same confidence you once had. “And now you’re back and with child.”

“I am.” you murmur meekly. 

“How about we start from the beginning?” the interviewer asks.

The beginning.

A whirl of emotion goes through you, as do countless memories of your time with Jungkook. The first one that hits you was the first time you’ve slept with him and how intoxicated with lust you felt. The regret that came over you was depressive afterwards, holding more hatred for yourself than you had for him. 

You didn’t know when your feelings for the man began to slowly shift and right before your eyes, the murderer that Jungkook was appears to be nothing but a blur. You found yourself wanting to be held by him at night as you two slept. When he cooked, you would join him and the entire act felt domestic. Like two couples living together.

The Beast of Busan had changed right before your eyes and he became just Jungkook. The same Jungkook with the amazing singing voice. The man who would bring you into his arms and swing you around in random moments just because. The man who was also an amazing artist and had drawn dozens of pieces for you - sometimes you’d join in, but your art was never as good as his.

You found your heart beating rapidly around Jungkook and not because you were frightened by him. No. Your beating heart was something else entirely. It felt like a school girl's crush and at first, you hated yourself for feeling this way towards the horrible human being that he was. It was as if your sanity was slowly subsiding and admiration grew through you.

Sex with Jungkook became as normal as breathing. There wasn’t a moment where you and he weren’t entangled together - even if it wasn’t entirely sexual. But when it was, it was powerful. Passionate. 

The way Jungkook would hold you close against him so lovingly while he fucked you disrespectfully. You can still feel the way his wet lips would glide across your naked skin greedily, licking and biting with such possession. You were his, he told you, no one else's. His to love and fuck on at any given moment - and you allowed it.

“That must’ve been terrible.” the interviewer speaks.

You weren’t here to tell the truth, however. 

The truth would paint you as the horrible person most people saw you as. 

This was Jungkook’s idea, after all.

“It was.” you nod your head in agreement. “When I…managed to run away,” you begin, turning your eyes to scan the sea of cameras in front of you. Your stomach churns and you truly wished you looked convincing. “all I thought about was saving me and myself…from him.”

“You did amazing.” Jimin says, placing a hand onto your shoulder as you enter the dressing room.

You close your eyes again, inhaling deeply. Everytime you did, you saw Jungkook. The way he looked drenched in blood right before he pointed a knife at you and told you to run. To run as fast as you could and to not look back at him.

If it was a part of Jungkook’s plan all along, you’re unsure. What you did know was the surface level of it all. You and Jungkook had been found, a mistake by his hands. He wasn’t supposed to use the fireplace and draw attention, but he had. No one had lived in this home for years as it was considered a vacation home and that drew attention from the neighbors - if you could call people living miles away that.

You recall the way the door was kicked in and guns were pointed right at you as you sat right by the fireplace. Much of it was a blur as your eyes were blinded with tears, but what you did understand was that Jungkook had two options. He and you could continue to hide out, either in the same home or somewhere else. Or, you could return to your life.

“Run, Y/N.” Jungkook had hissed, removing the knife from the last officer's neck and he pointed it straight at you. ���Run as fast as you can. Don’t look back.”

“W-What?” you had asked, the tears fresh on your cheeks. The metallic smell was going to make you vomit. “What about you-”

“It’s over.” Jungkook drops the knife. His feet caused the floorboards to creak as he made it over to you. The anger he felt when he heard you cry out and to come out from the kitchen to witness you on your knees and in distress had caused him to snap. Not to mention the guns pointed right at you. “You…are in no position to be out here. Not like this.” Not while pregnant, he wanted to say.

You did what Jungkook told you to. You memorized the story he told you to tell to the public - the one that would demonize him and humanize you. It wasn’t entirely a lie; but you were supposed to leave out the part in which you willingly desired to stay with Jungkook. Your sane half told you that it was manipulation; stockholm syndrome.

“Did I?” your question causes Jimin to tilt his head. “I…people are-”

“People are going to talk regardless, Y/N.” Jimin interrupts. “That’s what I’m here for. Leave the rest to me.” 

Jimin had become a true friend over time that you were grateful that he remained by your side - even when you ultimately confessed to everything. You confided in Jimin the absolute truth of it all - you being held hostage,  you slowly seeing Jungkook as more than a murderer to…more personal matters that led you to being pregnant.

“Jimin,” you swallow. You were a highly emotional person and half of it could be blamed on the hormones. “thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Y/N.” Jimin chuckles, but he squeezes your shoulder before dropping his hand. “You and I are friends, right? I’ll always be here for you and…well he or she.”

The gender of your child you wanted to be a surprise. Jimin supported your decision and assisted you by building furniture for the nursery in your new home. Your old one was considered a crime scene at one point. Besides, you wanted to start fresh.

Your new home is secluded, surrounded by trees that brought you a sense of familiar comfort.

“Have you…spoken to him?”

Jimin never says Jungkook’s name but you always understood when he was being spoken about.

Slowly, you nod your head. 

“That’s good.” Jimin murmurs. “I’ll take you home.”

“She’s…so beautiful.” Jungkook murmurs, the chains on his wrist clash against the metal table he sits at as he grips the picture in his hand. “So tiny.”

Maximum security was much more gruesome than what he had prior, but he wouldn’t complain. He still managed to get visitors from time to time - even if it meant his arms and ankles being chained as if he was going to escape.

“She looks a lot like you.” Jimin snorts, leaning back into the cold metal chair with crossed legs. “She does that nose scrunch you used to do as a kid.”

Jungkook raises his brows, a genuine smile on his lips.

Jimin and Jungkook went back all the way to childhood. Jungkook was the younger one of the two, but for what he didn’t make in age, he brought in mischief.

“I wish I could hold her.” Jungkook murmurs, doe-like eyes staring longingly at the picture of his newborn daughter. “And Y/N.”

Jimin turns his eyes away to look around the small room. There’s guards outside the door, but he doesn’t notice any cameras inside - isn’t this supposed to be maximum security?

“Why didn’t you go further?” Jimin questions, returning his eyes back to Jungkook. “You were only supposed to be there for a month or two. Then work your way out of the country.”

Jimin watches as Jungkook drops the picture onto the table. He brings his eyes up to his friend - more like a brother - and he shrugs. 

“That’s it?” Jimin snorts. “A shrug? You told me you had a plan.”

“And I did.” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I just…” he exhales with a shake of his head. “Y/N…I didn’t…how long was I supposed to keep running, hyung?”

Hyung was new, Jimin thinks, and by hearing the word with the sound of vulnerability, Jimin backs down. He was upset to learn that Jungkook had not gone through with the plan and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. 

Now, however, by being with you he understands a bit. Jungkook’s obsession towards you was unhealthy from the start. It began with him raging on and on about you - how you were only a bitch in front of the camera who wouldn’t challenge the Beast of Busan if he was right in front of you.

That quickly turned to infatuation when Jungkook learned you weren’t going to be scared easily. It was tiresome having to be the middleman and be friends with the both of you. He felt like a mailman delivering letters and flowers but it all led up to the very moment in which Jungkook got his hands on you. Of course, he could’ve done it a more safer way - pushing you into a coffee table wasn’t ideal, but it worked.

“You love her.” Jimin states with a roll of his eyes. “And…she…well you broke you.” Jimin quips.  “Whatever you did in the cabin, Kook, made her feel like you and only you could make her feel that way again.”

Jungkook blinks. His legs spread a bit - not too much as his chains wouldn’t allow him too much comfortability. His own mind wanders to his time with you and how a warm feeling spreads throughout him. Even now, he can recall the scent of your skin after a fresh shower and the warmth of your skin besides him at night.

“I do love her.” Jungkook mumbles meekly, His leg begins to tap against the tiled floor. “That’s why I couldn’t keep her living her life running away because of me. It sounded amazing in the beginning but…”

Jungkook shows little remorse in being who he is. He was an asshole. He was a murderer. But, he loved you - call him obsessed or not. There was little sanity in him but the tiny bit he held told him that it wouldn’t be fair to keep someone as lively as you trapped forever. He couldn’t be the man he thought you needed him to be. Witnessing you on your knees with guns pointed at you caused him to snap. You were in said position because of him - you were looked at like scum because of him.

“...I don’t want my sins to be hers.” Jungkook continues before he has a chance to get deeper into his thoughts. “I hadn't thought about murder until I saw those guns pointed at her. I thought maybe…with Y/N and the baby that I was better. But,” Jungkook's eyes glanced down at the picture once more at the tiny, sleeping baby. “I snapped. What if they would’ve killed her?”

“Maturity is a different look.” Jimin states, his sassiness masking the loving tint in his eyes for his younger friend.

“As much as I wanted Y/N and our baby by my side, I couldn’t risk putting her through that again.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I told her to go and lie. To lead the police right to me so I can be arrested again.”

“That was better than your freedom?”

Jungkook glances at Jimin.

“If it meant that Y/N wouldn’t be blamed for my actions then yes.” Jungkook nods his head, his words truthful. “Take care of them.”

Jimin snickers. “You don’t have to ask.” he says. He loves Y/N and the baby - his god child. There’s so much of Jungkook to the small being that it’s shocking already. “I’ve taken care of all of you this long, haven’t I?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but the grin forming on his lips is evident. 

“The beast has gone soft.” Jimin jokes. “To think this is the same man who forced me to assist in murder.”

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a family man now.” he states. “Thank you.”

Jimin waves Jungkook off. “How far you’ve fallen, Kook. You’re not even scary anymore.”

“Fuck off.” Jungkook chuckles.

The metal chair screeches against the ground as Jimin stands. He nods his head towards Jungkook. “I can’t stay long,” he says.

“I understand.” Jungkook gathers the photo of his daughter, his heart swelling. “Don’t forget about the flowers for Y/N.” he says.

Jimin rolls his eyes. Of course he was back on mailman duty. But, at least this time you’ll be accepting to the gifts.

It takes five minutes for the guards to escort Jimin out and for another one to come in and grab Jungkook. The hallway is bright as he is led down it towards his cell - all the way at the end of the maximum security unit. He wouldn’t  complain. It was quiet and peaceful and he even had a small window to look out of that overlooked a lake.

The guard puts the code to his cell and the door opens slowly. 

“Jeon.” the guard says from behind him as he uncuffs him. “There’s something for you underneath your pillow. Make sure it remains there at all times.” he murmurs before pushing Jungkook into the cell and pressing the button to close the door.

Jungkook hums to himself, his footsteps slow as he makes his way to his cot. Slowly, he lifts the pillow and his lips twitch upwards.

Underneath his pillow is a small, flip-phone. Outdated, but amazing on battery. Jungkook grasps it and flips it open, going to the call log to find two numbers, one he recognizes as Jimin’s and an unknown one.

Jungkook presses the unknown one and places the phone onto his ear. It rings, and with anticipation he finds himself breathing harder.

“Hello?” your voice rings from the other end of the phone and immediately, Jungkook lets out a short gruff.

“Y/N, baby.” Jungkook murmurs, clenching the flip phone in his hands. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

alternate ending (2) | valentines day masterlist

[4rticbolt]

Sub-Tastic? |Master-List|

Zoro, Law, Sanji, Usopp, Luffy x !Fem!Reader, fluff, smut, crack, NSFW, SFW, dacryphillia, fingering, riding, possessiveness

Summary: Headcannons with a loud, chaotic, and mouthy s/o who’s submissive in the bedroom. Plus PDA headcannon’s.

A/N: This is my first time delving into NSFW, so it’s gonna look a bit scratchy. And i’m not completely there with writing it yet, so I’ll be sticking to these type of head-cannons for now.

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

Trafalgar Law:

• Law would 100% love it.

• He has a dominant undertone, and a sub-like dynamic would work well with his possessiveness.

• At first, he’s used to your chaotic nature. Though, when things take an intimate turn, and you get vulnerable and quiet—he thinks you’re scared. He thinks you’re timid, so he doesn’t push, and he backs off. But, as soon as Law finds out you liked getting like that? OOH—prepare yourself.

• He’s quick to test out how far you’d go.

• Law’s into a little teasing here and there, but not much. Maybe a flicker of degrading, but he wouldn’t go down that route unless you wanted to.

“What happened to acting tough, huh? Where’d that strong girl go?”

“Oh, so you can be such a pain in my ass, but here you are getting all soft? Real adorable, ____.”

• If you ever got quiet or flustered, attempting to hide, it’s not happening. This man wants to see ALL of you, even the flustered bits.

“Don’t hide from me, I wanna see you.”

“Look at me.”

• Later in the relationship, he’d be much more commanding, but that’s only after he adjusts to this new you. He doesn’t hate it, he loves it, he just hates overstepping boundaries and moving too fast.

“Take it off.”

“Turn over.”

“Knees.”

• He could definitely be a lot at times—but wouldn’t we love that.

• Law’s a secluded and protective person, so he doesn’t necessarily care for PDA. You’d have to be the one to initiate it, even if it’s just a held assurance or hug.

• Law would blush, momentarily freezing before tilting his hat to cover his face.

“You’re so clingy . . .”

• His favorite position would have to do with facing you in his room, or in his bed. That possessiveness kicks in, and he wants to be the ONLY one who sees you like that. Much less hear.

• Dacryphillia is his guilty pleasure, it gives him an ego boost he’ll never admit to.

• You’re definitely having a safe word.

• Law initiates intimacy when it’s right, he doesn’t do it out of causality, but pure need. After a fight, or argument, his hands would linger, longer.

• However, if there was a time at dinner where YOU, were the one to initiate it? Sending him a look? He might just perish. He’d choke on his water and excuse himself, making sure to excuse you too.

• There’d be a lot of overstimulation that night.

• Law would play it off, but you getting worked up works him up. He has a hard-time letting go when you’re horny.

• A position that would put him in a choke-hold, would be riding. He’d push up into you, feeling you lean on him, and—gods, this man would have a hard time keeping his hands off you.

• In general, Law loves pinning your hands over your head, and you get bonus points if you squirm.

“Fuck, keep still—I can’t,”

• His pace would stutter, and you getting handsier makes him weak.

• Law loves marking you up. It’d be in more discreet places, but the next morning you’d be questioning how hungry he was.

• Hickeys would be placed along the inner of your thighs, hips, stomach—breasts, anywhere that is hidden underneath your clothes.

• He’d be snarky about it too. If you’re annoying him, or teasing him, he’d prod a certain spot marking your reaction.

“What? Don’t look at me like that. You asked for it.”

Roronoa Zoro:

• Zoro would 100% fw it.

• He is dominant, with at times a cocky attitude—so he’d be a good match. The swordsman isn’t experienced, but he’s quick to learn when it comes to making you feel good.

• Zoro might not understand it at first, he’d call you shy, maybe tease you for it, but once he realized you like having that dynamic? Yeah, no, you’re in for it more than you are Law.

“You like that? Being told what to do?”

“Say it again.”

• The crowsnest is your new favorite place.

• He’s definitely rough with you, especially when it comes to walls. But, at times he can be sweet and gentle. He’s a softie at heart, but that doesn’t mean he won’t push you around.

• Zoro’s favorite position is riding or doing it against something. Either way, he’s just going at it.

“Move your hand.”

“You can take more.”

“Come on baby, you got it.” / “Let me hear you.”

• If you got all whiny? Yeahh, he’s a happy man. To him, it just means you like it, so he’s gonna make you like that a LOT.

• Teasing? He loves it. Zoro likes watching your face get red, and he isn’t ashamed when he does. A soft smirk, with a whisper in your ear would do it. Especially at dinner—or lunch-time, somewhere where he KNOWS he can get you good.

“You’re lucky I like you like that. All quiet and sweet for me.”

“Worried they heard you? Yeah, you were pretty loud.”

• He’d be such a little shit abt it, and worst case was you could never get him back.

• Manhandling. Zoro is just constantly doing it. Grabbing you, pulling you out of the way, dragging you off somewhere, it’s a causal thing between you. Especially in the bedroom.

• Normally, Zoro would be the one to initiate sex, but if there was ever a time it was the other way around? It’d take a moment to recover.

• He’d blush, pause, before smirking and getting in your space. Yeah, you would NOT be in control for long.

“Acting all tough, huh? You won’t even last a few minutes.”

“Don’t run from me, you started this.”

• PDA with Zoro isn’t often. He’s not against it or anything, it just really messes with him. It’s the only time you can get him back for something, because he’ll blush—and try to ignore you, but fail.

• However, if someone’s looking at you? There’s an arm around your waist at all times. Even a begrudging hand-hold every now and then.

• Intimacy with Zoro is sweet, sensual, and deep. He’s the only one who ever sees you like that—and he wants to keep it that way.

• You’re Zoro’s soft spot, and he’s very protective, especially if he’s seen you so wrecked . . . So, at times, it reminds him you’re not the loud rambunctious person you convince yourself to be.

• It triggers something instinctual with the way he acts, and he can’t help it. You’re his, and that’s all there is to it.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now . . . Ugh, fine. Just come here.”

Sanji:

• The cook’s folding first.

• He’s a definite switch, not overly experienced, but he knows what he’s doing.

• Sanji is naturally attentive to begin with, so he picks up on things fast. He he loves to shower you with compliments, and he likes to pick at you, so it wasn’t hard to figure out.

• He LOVES your noises, and he’ll do anything for you to make them.

“Oh, cherie, please don’t hide that from me.”

“Do that again, please.”

“Do you know what you do to me?”

• Sanji is talking you through it the long way, and he’s not stopping till you’re spent. He needs every sound, everything word—just everything.

“You’re too sweet. I’m gonna ruin you.”

• If you ever said his name all whiny and whimpery, he might just pass out. Immediate nosebleed, immediate sit down, it takes him a second to recover.

“Say it again—mom cœur—please, say it again.”

• His fav position is smth like mating press, or just a casual lift to the leg while he looks down at you.

• Sanji loves watching, even when your embarrassed or overwhelmed. Anything is everything to him.

• The cook’s a hand holder, especially over your head or beside it. It’s comforting for him, and it has a lot to do with his gentle charisma. His hands would be running all over you; needing, massaging, holding, as it’s a reminder you’re here, and he isn’t dreaming. Pervertedly anyway.

“You’re so soft, love.”

“So pretty.”

“You’re so tight, baby.”

• And if you ever begged him? He’s losing it to that too. He whimpers, and in that scenario—he’s leaning into the crook of your neck mumbling something intelligible.

“Mmh, love you so so much.”

“You’re too good for me love, don’t beg. I’ll give you anything you want.”

• Sanji’s down for more sensual sex, so I don’t see him doing a quickie or anything rough. He’s very careful with you, and he’s adamant of showering you with love, so something like that isn’t the way for him to do it. (Sorry, I can’t see Sanji ever being rough with a woman, I mean look at him. He’s a lovable loser.)

• You might be able to sneak some time into the kitchen, or in your room (that’s if you have one), but regardless, to him: all that matters is you. So wherever there’s privacy, there’s an optional spot.

• Overall, Sanji’s pathetic for his s/o, so anything you’d ask of him—he’d do.

• This man has hearts in his eyes whenever he looks at you. “Can I get you anything my sweet?”

Usopp:

• Despite Usopp’s shyness and inexperience, he’d love it. Maybe even more than Sanji.

• He’s not possessive like Law, or rough like Zoro, but he is obsessed. Not in a yandere way, just in an innocent and sweet one. He just loves the thought of him making you like that, and he just can’t get enough of it.

• Usopp is not very dominant himself, but if you were ever submissive enough to that point, he’d become an accidental dom. He’d do a lot of things he wouldn’t even realize he’s doing, like man-handling and pushing you down, and still asking if you’re okay.

• Like, where’d that pushover behavior go??

• Usopp doesn’t know what he’s doing, imma be real. He’s a total virgin, and you might need to guide him. But once he finds your spots, yeahh he’s not ever forgetting them.

“You okay? Good, yeah—that’s good, I got you.”

“You sound so pretty.”

• Most things are your ideas and preferences. He runs on your schedule, and has a constant fear of pressuring you. He knows you’re a bit quiet and subtle—and he’s exactly the same.

• Though, when he wants to do something, it’s clear but hinted. He stares, a lot. Without even realizing, and it’s kinda pathetic.

• He definitely zones out. But, who doesn’t love a pathetic smitten, sniper. A win is a win.

“Huh? What are you talking about! I’m not looking at you—I’m uh, looking at the uh—floor! Yeah, counting grooves, yeah, that’s it. Grooves—oh look over there! Haha—anyways!”

• Usopp doesn’t really tease, if anything he freaks out. Mostly on the inside, but sometimes on the outside. Like if you’d melted, or grabbed a sensitive spot when you’re cuddling? Pfft—yeah he’s a blushing mess.

• Even during sex.

• Usopp’s incredibly gentle and tender, even if you want it rough. He’s hesitant, but it’s not because he doesn’t want to do anything with you, it’s just because he’s scared of doing something wrong.

• But if you were whimpery? That might just fix that. It gives him an ego boost, much like Law, but it’s also comforting because he knows what he’s doing is making you feel good.

• He’d get all mushy, and upfront, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer while he works his fingers. Speaking of, that’s one of his favorite things to do, he loves how you feel.

• He loves holding your waist, especially rubbing along your sides where he can see your breasts and face.

• When Usopp gets flustered, it’s by the simplest of things. If you were to causally lean against him? Holding his hand? Immediate blush. Or if you say something unriconically sweet, he’s overloadfully timid.

“Ugh, ___, you’re too good to me. Why are you . . . so sweet?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that!”

“Don’t make that noise—you’re so weird!”

• He’s lying, he loves it. He just doesn’t know how to deal with it. The sniper would never get sick of it.

• Usopp is chill with PDA, he’s touchy touchy believe it or not, even if he’s self-conscious when you do it. A gentle hand would hold yours, or a comforting arm would rest on your shoulders as you walk through public.

• Usopp casually calls you his, he loves showing you off. Not in a trophy-like way, but in a way he’s proud of who he’s with.

“My ____? She’s great! She’s like—really sweet, loud sometimes, but she’s the best!”

“You’re no match for my girlfriend! She’d kick your ass in an instant!”

• He’s speaks very highly of you.

Luffy:

• Wouldn’t expect it from you, but his reaction would be very Luffy. It’d be causal, blunt, sweet—chaotic—you name it, he’s liking it either way.

“Why are you so quiet? Do you . . . oh.”

• It’d definitely be a good match with him.

• Luffy wouldn’t be necessarily rough, I mean, if you asked he’d be like: “I can do that!” and there you go, but he’s a possessive switch. Regardless, he loves making you feel good no matter the dynamics.

• Your captain’s a sucker for your pathetic reactions, and he’s not afraid to manhandle you.

• Luffy doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s gonna act like he is, but he’s inexperienced. You have a lot of questionable and confused moments, though they end up sweet and dorky in the end.

• He’s just a bunch of rubber you’ll love anyways—so it doesn’t really matter. But he does know the gist of intimacy, he’s not completely stupid. Most of the time anyways.

• I don’t see him making any moves at FIRST, but when it happens—it just does. It’s like his sleep schedule, whenever he’s sleepy—he’ll sleep. But, whenever he’s horny, he just is.

• When he’s in the mood, he’s much more touchy, and it’s probably when you’re cuddling. Or he’ll just say something out of the blue.

“I wanna do somethin.”

“M’wanna touch you.”

• It’s mumbled in your chest, or while he’s kissing you, there’s no in between.

• Luffy loves your noises, and only wants them for himself. He’s not the jealous type, but you? Your his, and only his. So only he wants to hear those noises.

“You sound so pretty, do that again.”

“Shh, don’t want anyone else to hear you.”

• His hand would cover your mouth, grabbing and tilting it however he wants it, making sure your looking where he wants you to.

• He’s very handsy, if you haven’t noticed.

• Luffy can be really tender. He’s not all the way across the line of being gentle, because he can get really fast, but cuddly sex is the most you’ll get out of him.

• He’s for whatever positions you are, and he’s really just taking you from wherever. Behind you, infront of you, on the side of you—he literally can’t get enough.

• Luffy is the type to shift mid-way and find a better angle to get at you, so yeah, I’d personally be prepared for a long night. He has a lot of stamina, even if you make him a little weak in the knees.

• He’s 100% an eater, he def craves it. And he isn’t afraid of showing it. From the back—or front, he just loves you all around.

“You taste so good.”

“So wet for me.”

• He ironically has a dirty mouth, but that’s just because he’s blunt and too honest. So most things sound impulsive, but he means it, and there’s no apology or embarrassment for it.

• Luffy loves PDA. Not to the point of kissing you in public, but there’d be a quick peck to the cheek or head. He loves dragging you around, from carrying you on his shoulder, or pulling you by your hand.

“Oi! Come on let’s go—you’re so slow!”

• Much like Usopp, Luffy is very proud of you. He’s proud of who he’s with—as all the one piece men would be, but Luffy especially.

“Shishi! She’s the best, you should meet her sometime! She makes the best snacks!”

“____ goes on adventures with me all the time, we find the coolest stuff—“

• Definitely blabbers on about you.

[boypied]

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗

BOB REYNOLDS x M!READER

MDNI + FDNI, mature content below.

WARNINGS: submissive!bob, dominant!reader, swearing, whimpering, overstimulation, neck kissing, foreplay, bottom!reader, top!bob, cock riding, mentions of bondage.

SUMMARY: it's has become a personal mission for yourself to see how long it will take you to break bob, whilst in the bedroom.

“Okay... and what's your safe word?” You ask him in a gentle tone as you lock the second pair of handcuffs to the bedframe as Bob just looks up at you with an excited smile, “dandelion” he mutters out and it's is very clear to you that he might be more excited about this than you are, which would be incredible hard because you've been dying for this.

You stand at the end of the bed as you stare down at Bob's restrained body. A small smirk appears on your face as you watch Bob's rock-hard cock twitch like it had a pulse, “big boy.” You coo out in a low tone as you strip off your clothes showing off your black thong that perfectly cups your growing bulge. Bob licks his lips at the sight of you.

You crawl onto the bed, getting between Bob's thighs, and you gently place a kiss on the top of his pre-cum soaked tip. You lick a wet strip across the whole tip as your tongue goes back and forth against the slit causing a shiver of pleasure to shoot up his body as he bucks his hips up towards your face, “b-baby!” He whines out wanting to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around his cock.

You continue placing kitten kisses along his shaft as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and you begin pumping it up and down, creating a sensational amount of pleasure. Bob can't help but bite down on his lower lip, preventing his quiet whimpers from escaping. You pull away entirely from his cock until he feels you straddle his lap teasing his cock against your lube soaked hole.

You lay your body weight on top of his muscular one whilst you arch your back and feeling his cock slide right against your hole as you grind yourself back and forth. You place kisses along his chest, moving further up as you lick a wet strip from his collarbone all the way up his neck until you reach his mouth and he immediately slides his tongue into your mouth trying to fight for the only bit of dominance he could possible obtain. “Mhm...” he coos out as you gently bite his lower lip and tug on it, which makes his eyes widen with excitement.

You place your hands on either side of his face “Open wide.” You mumble out in a low whisper, and he obeys immediately sticking out his tongue and opening up his mouth as wide as he possibly could, all while you grind back and forth, feeling his cock twitch against your hole begging to be pushed inside of you, he wants the feel the warmth of your hole.

You spit in his mouth, and he laps it all up, “Are you my good boy?” You whisper in a seductive tone while making direct eye contact with him, “Y-Yes..” he clears his throat “I am. I'm your good boy, please, please, please let me fuck you.” he begs you in his whiney voice that you love so much. You hover you ignore his begs with a smirk plastered on your face as you continue teasing his cock by letting his pre-cum soaked tip coat your lubed hole up with his liquid.

This goes on for a while, ignoring his begs and just covering his neck in hickeys. You pull away, and without saying a word, you push yourself back onto your knees and directly trapping his cock between your cheeks as you slowly sit yourself down on his cock, feeling it push past your tight muscle ring and into the warmth of your hole. “Fuck!” he whines out but a smirk on relief grows on his face feeling your walls already contracting around his edged length.

“I know that it's your safe word... but shout dandelion when you're about to cum.” You whisper in his ear as you push yourself down entirely feeling his cock twitch inside of you, your walls have tightened around him so much that you can feel his cock pulsate with each twitch. Bob rapidly nods his head, “Yes-Yes! Whatever you want, please just ride me” he begs with you, and for once, you listen to his command, and you immediately start riding him at a fast pace.

You've been bouncing away at his cock for a while now, you watch as his hands pull at the handcuffs wanting to hold your hips to help you bounce. You bounce on his cock harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping against eachother was the only thing that could be heard in your bedroom bedside the obvious whines from Bob, whose eyes have filled up with tears from the blissful amount of pleasure that his coursing throughout his entire body.

“DANDELION! DANDELION.” Bob yells out as you come down against his hips one final time as he keeps his eyes open as they lock onto you as he watches you face as his load shoots all the way up inside of your asshole, you haven't touched your own cock this entire time and the moment his load hits your sweet spot your cock spurts out thick ropes of cum that coat his entire chest.

You continue bouncing throughout his entire orgasm and tears begin streaming down Bob's face, “D-DON'T STOP!” he grunts out as his eyes flutter back, and he has the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face. Once he has finished shooting his pent-up load inside of you, you collapse your body against his, and his chest rises and falls as he takes deep breaths.

“That...was fucking incredible.” he mumbles out as you unlock his handcuffs setting his hands free and he immediately wipes his tears away, “Fuck, that's never happened before...sorry about that.” he mumbles out and you can tell he's feeling embarrassed about that, “Don't be sorry, it was hot.” You smirk and he grabs your hips and pulls closer to him as he rolls you both over, “Round two?” he smirks as he holds up the handcuffs and your eyes just widen as you bite your lower lip hoping that his never ends.

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