#rabbits only challenge run | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cutehoons02 · 3 months ago

Text

My lollipop girl

My lollipop boy pt2

Jungwon pt Jake pt Jaypt

*pairing: pervy rabbit hybrid Sunghoon x popular girl

*trope: oppositive attraction/grumpy x sunshine

*synopsis: Y/n is a university student who crosses paths with Sunghoon, an enigmatic and mysterious guy, who turns out to be a rabbit hybrid. Amid provocations, power plays, and growing tension, Y/N tries to catch his attention with a lollipop, but he mocks her. Despite his authoritative behavior, Sunghoon can't help but be drawn to her. As Y/n learns more about his hybrid nature, including heat and the knot, their relationship becomes increasingly intense, filled with seductive games and emotional challenges that push them further to their limits.

*tags: Sunghoon is a rabbit hybrid, lots of tension, Hoon behaves with superiority and loves to tease the protagonist always throwing arrows, territoriality, pervy thoughts, tutor Hoon, fake innocent girl, neddy Hoon, needy girl, kisses, hickeys, masturbation, double times fingering, unprotected sex (don't horny ppl) pet names (princess,sweetheart,good girl) (Hoon,hoonie)

13k (🍭)

(English is not my native language)

Being the most popular girl at the Academy had its perks. You never had to worry about being alone—everyone wanted to be seen with you, and everyone laughed at your jokes, even when they weren’t funny. One look from you was enough to get whatever you wanted, and if you wished for someone, that someone would come running to your feet.

But there were downsides, too. No one was indeed your friend. The girls who flocked around you gossiped about everyone the moment they turned their backs, and you could only imagine how many times they had done the same to you.

And then there were the hybrids—once outcasts, now accepted into human society, yet still treated as different. Every day, you heard those shallow girls giggling about them, whispering "animals" under their breath as if they weren’t human enough to deserve respect. You didn’t care. You weren’t there to be a hero. You only looked out for yourself.

At least, until that day.

The air in the advanced economics classroom was heavy, saturated with useless chatter and forced laughter. You walked in last, your usual strawberry-and-cream lollipop between your lips, your usual skirt just a little shorter than it should be, and your fitted blouse drawing eyes wherever you went. Scanning the room, you searched for an empty seat. Two options.

The first was next to Jeremy—the stereotypical football guy: arrogant, clingy, convinced every girl at the Academy would fall at his feet. He didn’t even bother to hide where his eyes wandered whenever you were around.

The other was next to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon wasn’t just handsome. He was the handsome that hurt to look at for too long. Soft black hair, almost too perfect, a face carved with precision, dotted with tiny beauty marks you wanted to examine up close… and kiss. His nose was perfect, his features sharp like a statue, his body lean but sculpted just right. But his looks weren’t the problem. His personality was.

Cold. Silent. Cynical.

He barely spoke, and when he did, it was to throw sharp remarks—often aimed at humans. You didn’t blame him. It had to be exhausting to coexist with people who still looked at him with suspicion just for being born different. But when he was with other hybrids… he became someone else. Once, you had heard him laugh—a real, deep, almost contagious laugh. And God, you had wanted to listen to it again.

Your body moved before your mind could think twice. You walked toward the seat next to Sunghoon, ignoring Jeremy’s surprised stare and the murmurs of a few girls.

You pulled the chair back, the scraping sound echoing through the room. Sunghoon looked up, his dark pupils locking onto you, his ears twitching slightly as if irritated by the noise.

For a few seconds, he said nothing. He just observed you, analyzing with that calculated gaze, as if trying to figure out why you had chosen him.

You sat down calmly, crossing your legs with a slow, deliberate motion, letting your skirt ride up just enough to reveal a glimpse of your thighs. You knew he was looking, even if he tried to mask it with that bored, impassive expression. You wondered what was running through his mind. You wanted to slip into his thoughts, to understand what he thought of you—if he was genuinely annoyed or if, deep down, he liked you more than he was willing to admit.

Sunghoon glanced at you briefly, but his eyes betrayed something else, something he tried to suppress. His tail flicked slightly behind him—an involuntary reflex he immediately stifled as if refusing to give you the satisfaction of knowing you were affecting him. He was always like this: cold, calculated, yet incredibly curious. It was in his hybrid nature, his way of analyzing everything, but with that hint of arrogance typical of someone who knew he was irresistible.

Then your scent hit him.

Strawberries and cream. Sweet—almost too sweet for him. He wasn’t the type to enjoy sugary fragrances; he preferred sharp, fresh scents, ones with cool notes that matched his personality. And yet, somehow, he thought that scent was perfect for you. Too perfect.

He looked at you again.

You were different from the other popular girls. Beauty? That was obvious. Intelligence? He already knew you weren’t an airhead. But there was something more. You had confidence and boldness, yet you didn’t hesitate to talk to anyone—not even hybrids. He knew you had a hybrid friend, and that made you even stranger in his eyes.

But what irritated him was something else.

The way you sucked on that damn lollipop beside him, your tongue lazily gliding over the sugary stick, your lips wrapping around the candy with too much ease. The way your skirt was too short, leaving your thighs fully exposed. The way your blouse was too tight, the faint outline of pink lace peeking through, hugging your full curves.

Sunghoon throws you a sharp look, but you notice. And you smile.

"Do you like the show?" you ask with a provocative smirk, tilting your head slightly as you run the lollipop between your lips.

He sighs quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Stop dreaming, princess.'

But the moment he says it, his eyes betray a flash of amusement, and his white and gray tail starts moving uncontrollably.

You burst into laughter, swinging the lollipop between your lips with a cheeky smile. "Princess, huh? No one’s ever called me that before."

Sunghoon scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 'Strange, I thought your ego would guarantee you at least ten nicknames like that.'

You raise an eyebrow, entertained by his sharpness. "Oh, so you’ve been checking up on me?"

He gives you a bored look. 'Hard not to when everyone keeps talking about you.'

Your crystal-clear laugh fills the air as you pull out your economics notebooks and arrange the pages with slow, precise movements. Sunghoon, with his watchful gaze, observes everything: your neat handwriting, and your perfectly completed assignments.

"What's up? Surprised that I’m smart?" you ask, tilting your head slightly.

He barely curves his lips into a sneer. 'No. I'm surprised someone like you has time to study between all your dates.'

You click your tongue, giving him a mock expression of pity. "How cruel, Sunghoon. You’re breaking my heart."

'You should get used to it.' he replies, expressionless.

You bite your lip to hold back a smile. You like this game. You enjoy how he teases you without filters, how he doesn’t get swept up like everyone else. But most of all, you like the idea of provoking him.

You keep sucking on your lollipop, and when you get to the best part—the one where the strawberry and cream blend perfectly—you notice how Sunghoon averts his gaze for a moment. But not fast enough.

His cheeks flush slightly. His tail stops moving, and his fluffy ears twitch ever so slightly.

Your smile widens. "You like lollipops?"

He bursts out laughing, but there’s something irritated in his expression.

'No. I don’t like unnecessarily sugary things.'

"Strange," you comment, running your tongue along the candy. "Yet, you seem like the type to melt for something sweet."

Sunghoon looks at you, this time with an even colder, sharper gaze.

'Maybe because you’re used to all those little puppies that circle you. But I’m not one of them.'

His tone is so cutting that for a moment, you almost take him seriously. Almost. You simply smile. "No, definitely not."

The professor enters, and the conversation stops, but the tension remains. When the tests are handed out, your gaze falls on the grade marked in red next to your name. 75. Not bad. But then you see the test next to yours. 100.

You slowly turn toward Sunghoon, and he simply blinks with an air of complete indifference as the professor praises him in front of everyone. But your gaze misses no detail: his tail instinctively rises, his ears stand up with pride, the faint blush coloring his cheeks.

You lean on your hand, watching him with your mouth slightly open. "You... are a fucking genius?"

Sunghoon slowly turns toward you and, for the first time, actually smiles. But it’s not a kind smile. It’s the smile of someone who’s enjoying every second of your surprise. 'Surprised?'

You blink, then cross your arms with a smirk. "I never would’ve guessed. I thought your only talent was being a bastard with me."

He tilts his head, his ears moving slightly. 'I can do both.'

At the end of the lesson, you walk up to him with a new lollipop between your fingers and offer it to him with a cheeky smile. "As a reward for your grade!"

Sunghoon looks down at the candy, then turns back to you with an arched eyebrow. 'Are you stupid or deaf?'

You place a hand over your chest, pretending to be offended. "Oh, such manners! I know exactly what you said." You take a step closer, tilting your head to the side. "But you know by now, right? I like to annoy you."

He takes a deep breath, as if holding back the urge to tell you to go to hell, then shakes his head with a cynical smile. 'And I’m supposed to like something just because YOU decide so?'

"Exactly," you reply without hesitation.

Sunghoon stares at you for a long moment, as if trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. Then he shakes his head, completely ignoring your offer, and stuffs his books into his backpack.

You sigh, swinging the lollipop between your fingers. "So, will you help me study for the next test? I want a 100 too."

Sunghoon stops for a moment, his jaw tightening slightly. He looks you up and down as if assessing whether your request is worth even a second of his time.

Then, with a slow, provocative smile, he takes a step closer. Close enough for his fresh, sharp scent to envelop you, a stark contrast to your sweet strawberry and cream scent.

He leans slightly toward you, his face dangerously close to yours. 'And why should I help you, princess?' he murmurs, his voice low and full of challenge.

You don’t lower your gaze. You don’t give him that satisfaction. You just smile. "Because I’m nice and cute."

Sunghoon chuckles softly, a sound almost amused, then straightens up. 'No.'

You freeze for a second. "No?"

He grabs his backpack and walks past you without sparing you another glance. 'Figure it out.'

You watch him with your eyes as he exits the classroom, a mix of irritation and amusement bubbling in your chest.

You tighten the lollipop between your fingers and make a smile spread across your lips, and you can’t wait for the next class to torment and tease Park Sunghoon, the hybrid rabbit.

The condominium where you lived was perfect for you: close enough to the university to make it there on time even if you stayed out late, but far enough to avoid the chaos of the campus. Plus, the best shops and cafes in the city were just a few steps away, making it easy to satisfy your sudden cravings for something sweet or an iced coffee.

That afternoon, with a mountain of bags in your hands and zero desire to climb four flights of stairs, you called the elevator. You were about to relax against the wall when, just a second before the doors closed, a shoe got wedged between them, forcing them to reopen.

And, of course, it was Sunghoon.

He was wearing a basketball tank top, the lightweight fabric clinging to his body still damp with sweat, exposing sculpted biceps and hinting at the perfect chest you could just barely see underneath the fabric. The basketball shorts revealed his muscular legs, and his tail flicked slightly behind him, betraying a restlessness his face didn’t show.

As soon as he saw you, he rolled his eyes as if the universe was out to get him. He didn’t say anything, just took a bottle of water to his lips, drinking in large sips as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

And damn, even that made him look incredibly attractive.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, watching him as his throat worked, water droplets sliding down his sharp jawline. Then he turned to you, absentmindedly licking his lower lip before giving you an annoying smirk.

'What’s up, princess? Did the lollipop go down the wrong way?'

Instead of answering his provocation, you tilted your head to the side, looking at him with a sly smile. “Since we live on the same floor, why don’t we study together? We could help each other out.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, slowly capping his water bottle. 'I don’t think so.'

“And why not?” You crossed your arms, your tone deliberately mischievous.

He took a step closer, filling the space between you with his warm, slightly electric presence. He looked down at you, then took a deep breath, as if evaluating something.

'I don’t like your smell.'

You stiffened for a second, his low and direct voice hitting you harder than you expected. You stared at him, confused. “What?”

Sunghoon ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking his head slightly.

'It’s not that you stink. It’s just that… my hybrid self doesn’t find you attractive and can’t stand the scent and perfume your human skin gives off.'

You stared at him, surprised by how brutally he said it. You’d never been rejected like that in your life. You almost felt shocked by the slight discomfort that pricked at your stomach.

But you’d never let him see it. So you smiled, a venomous and cheeky grin. “What a shame, Sunghoon. I, on the other hand, find your scent very interesting.” You took a step closer, your strawberry and cream scent filling the space between you. “Maybe you should try getting to know me better before you speak.”

He snorted, but for a second—just a second—you saw his fingers twitch slightly. And in that moment, his tail flicked again, though he did everything to keep it still.

The elevator dinged as it stopped, but Sunghoon didn’t move right away. He looked at you with that gaze that always seemed to judge you, always guarded as if you were an annoying waste of time.

'So you like my scent, huh?' he repeated, his voice laced with sharp sarcasm. 'I have to admit, it’s the first time I’ve heard a girl say she likes the smell of post-workout sweat.'

He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly as he looked you up and down. 'Or maybe you’re just one of those who likes to be with hybrids because it’s cool, hm?'

This time, you were the one to snort. “Are you always this full of yourself?” You crossed your arms, lifting your chin challengingly. “I’m just telling you that hybrids smell different from humans. I didn’t say I wanted to roll around in your sweat, Sunghoon.”

He smirked, that signature asshole expression on his face. 'Too bad. I thought you were one of those weird girls who like hybrid pheromones.'

You stepped out of the elevator with a sigh, but instead of letting him go, you planted yourself right in front of him in the hallway.

unghoon looked down at you, and for a moment, the contrast between your height and his seemed to amuse him. Then, though, he switched back to “asshole mode.” 'Don’t block the way, princess. I need to go shower.'

But you planted yourself in front of him, and maybe you shouldn’t have started this conversation.

“I did some research on rabbit hybrids.”

You immediately saw his expression change, as if he was already bracing himself for the nonsense you were about to say. 'Should I be honored?'

You ignored his sarcasm and pressed on. “I discovered a lot of interesting things. For example… rabbit hybrids have a different kind of heat than other hybrids. It’s not just once a year like for some predators… no, their cycle is much more frequent. Depending on the individual, it can happen multiple times in just a few months. A real hassle, right?”

Sunghoon stayed still, but you noticed how his jaw tightened slightly.

You smiled and continued. “Ah, and then there’s the knot.”

This time, you saw him stiffen.

“I’ve never quite understood the mechanism,” you continued, feigning innocence. “But, during heat, a rabbit hybrid has a physiological response that… locks them to their partner for a while. It’s for reproduction, right?”

Sunghoon stared at you, his eyes slits. Then, slowly, his lip curled into a disdainful grin.

'And is this your twisted way of telling me you want to fuck me?'

You hesitated for just a moment but recovered in an instant.

“No, it’s my twisted way of letting you know that I know things about you that maybe even other humans don’t.”

He chuckled softly, his tail swishing slightly behind him as if the whole conversation entertained him. 'And did you find anything else in your research, little detective?'

“Yes.” You placed a hand on your hip, tilting your head. “Like how rabbit hybrids enjoy physical contact. It’s not an instinctual thing like it is for canines, it’s more psychological. They love being touched, caressed, bitten…” You paused to enjoy the look on his face. “But only when they truly trust the girl or ‘mate’ that’s theirs.”

Sunghoon snorted. 'Oh yeah? And where did you find this information, on a blog for girls obsessed with hybrids?'

“No, scientific studies. Oh, and one more thing… rabbit hybrids are territorial.”

This time, you saw him grip his water bottle tighter. He was listening, even though he pretended not to care.

“They don’t like sharing what they consider ‘theirs.’ Whether it’s space, objects… or people.”

Sunghoon burst out laughing, a low, mocking sound. 'And what do you want to prove with all this pseudo-science? That you’re an expert on me?'

You shrugged. “I’m just saying that the more I watch you, the more I understand things about you.”

He took a step closer, and this time, his expression shifted slightly. He was still cocky, but there was something sharper behind it.

'And if I told you that my hybrid self doesn’t find you interesting?'

You stopped for a moment, then looked at him with a dangerous smile. “Then why don’t you stop staring at me?”

Sunghoon licked his lower lip and chuckled quietly. Then he walked past you, giving you a light shove as he headed for his door.

'Instead of wasting time with your stalker research, you should study economics.'

“Oh, really? My highest grade was 75, so if we studied together, you could give me some tips.” You said, stepping closer to him.

Sunghoon glanced over his shoulder, the smile still painted on his lips. 'I’d rather get caught in a rabbit trap.'

And with that, he slammed the door to his room behind him. Fine. If he wanted to play, you were more than willing to join in.

That morning, you walked into class before the bell rang, a dark expression on your face and your usual nervous tic kicking in: tapping your foot against the floor. You were furious.

Some bastard had stolen your favorite strawberry and cream lollipop from the café downstairs, leaving you with only the watermelon ones. Sure, they were good, but they weren’t the same. The taste was too fresh, too light, missing that perfect balance of sweetness and creaminess you adored.

You sat down at your usual spot, right next to Sunghoon, and continued to sulk, distractedly twirling the lollipop between your lips.

When he walked in and saw your funeral face, that familiar mischievous smile appeared on his lips. He dropped into his chair with that predator-like grace of his, one arm resting on the desk and the other idly playing with a pen.

'What tragedy happened, princess? Did they ruin your manicure?'

You shot him a withering look and kept sucking on the lollipop with a frown.

Sunghoon tilted his head, studying you. Then he leaned in a bit, sniffing the air with that hybrid instinct of his and letting out a soft laugh.

'Watermelon?' He raised an eyebrow, his tone mocking. 'Finally, a more decent scent compared to that horrible strawberry and cream.'

You snapped your head toward him, dramatically pointing the lollipop stick at his face.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Your voice was thick with indignation. “The strawberry and cream lollipop is the best, the king of all sweets. This”—you waved the watermelon lollipop in front of him—“is just a sad replacement.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair with that typical smug attitude. 'Oh really? Then why aren’t you eating it with your usual enthusiasm? Don’t tell me they ran out at the café.'

Your pout deepened. “Of course, they ran out. Someone bought them all, and there won’t be more until next week.”

He whistled low, amused. 'Well, look at that. There must be someone with your terrible taste.'

You crossed your arms and shot him a dirty look. “It’s a crime against humanity. If I find out who did this…”

You had no idea that Sunghoon had at least twenty strawberry and cream lollipops in his backpack. He bought them all just to piss you off. He loved seeing you like this, with that fire in your eyes and the pout on your lips. It was way too fun.

But he decided to push things a little further.

'You know, I really don’t get all this obsession…' he said nonchalantly, leaning forward.

And before you could even realize what was happening, his lips closed around your lollipop.

Your eyes went wide.

Slowly, with a bold and far too sensual move, Sunghoon sucked on the sweet, letting it slide between his lips in a languid motion. The stick was still between your fingers, but the sugary part was now wrapped in the warmth of his mouth.

His tail flicked slightly behind him, almost involuntarily. His ears, usually standing high and still, turned a light pink, and for just a moment, his cheeks… they warmed up.

Then you heard a low sound, almost a grunt.

You froze.

You had read about this in that scientific blog on rabbit hybrids. That sound… meant he was experiencing pleasure.

You stared at him, stunned.

Sunghoon licked his lower lip as he released the lollipop, looking at you with a smug grin.

'You know, maybe strawberry and cream isn’t so bad after all.'

You couldn’t say anything for a moment, too focused on the image you’d just seen. The way his lips had closed around the sweet, the slight tremor of his ears, that guttural sound he tried to suppress…

Damn.

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen.

The professor began the lesson, and Sunghoon immediately got to work, filling his notebook with notes with an almost unsettling precision. He seemed like a machine, his gaze fixed on the board, the pen moving across the page without hesitation.

You, on the other hand, were less… efficient.

You tried to keep up, really, but some concepts slipped through your fingers like sand. And then there was him. Always composed, always perfect, always… infuriatingly capable.

Absentmindedly, you chewed on the stick of your now-empty lollipop while writing, trying to solve an exercise. When the professor wrote the correct answer on the board, you glanced down at your notebook and noticed the difference.

Damn it.

You huffed, crossing your arms in frustration. You weren’t stupid, in fact, but some mistakes drove you crazy. How could you be in the advanced course if you kept making these stupid errors?

A shadow moved next to you.

'You’ve swapped these two numbers,' a low, confident voice murmured.

You turned and found Sunghoon leaning over you, a finger pointing at the error in your notebook. His tone was authoritative, almost nerdishly precise, but the way he moved closer… too close… almost made you forget his cheeky attitude.

You shot him a sideways glance, frowning.

“Oh. Right.”

'Mh.' He nodded, then returned to his notes without saying anything more.

But you weren’t the type to be discouraged. You tried another exercise under his watchful gaze, this time focusing to avoid making stupid mistakes. Yet, when you finished and checked…

Wrong again.

Once more, the final calculation didn’t match the one written on the board.

You sighed in exasperation, running a hand through your hair. Without even realizing you were speaking aloud, you muttered:

“How the hell did I get into this advanced course if I keep making these stupid mistakes?”

Sunghoon turned toward you with a smirk.

'Good question, princess.'

You shot him a death stare, ready to snap back, but then, with a lower and almost amused tone, he added:

'If you want to avoid embarrassing yourself during the exams, you can study with me.'

You stared at him, surprised. Did he just… invite you to study together?

But before you could answer, he stood up, casually stuffing his notebook into his bag with far too much-studied calm.

'But only if you can shut up and focus,' he added, his voice thick with challenge.

You followed Sunghoon without even noticing that some of the other students were calling out to you. The world around you seemed blurry, the background noise nothing more than an indistinct hum, and then, without thinking too much, your hand instinctively grabbed his arm.

It was an instinctive hold, almost an innocent gesture. Yet, Sunghoon’s body reacted immediately. His ears perked up, and his tail began to flick in a barely noticeable motion as if his body was torn between surprise and something else.

He looked down at you, his dark eyes veiled with something hard to decipher. Curiosity? Annoyance? Interest?

But his gaze was also sharp as if the contact had unintentionally put him on alert. You looked up at him and, without pulling your hand away, asked with a hint of defiance:

“Are you messing with me?”

He raised an eyebrow, his usual cocky attitude intact. 'I don’t like to joke.'

You pressed your lips together slightly, still skeptical. “So… we’re studying together?”

He sighed, turning his face slightly to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips. 'If you don’t want to fail miserably at the course, I guess, I don’t have a choice.'

You nodded, satisfied. “Perfect. Can I come over to your place this afternoon?”

Sunghoon stiffened for a moment; then he made a face and turned to you with a slightly annoyed expression. 'NO.'

You froze. “No?”

'NO.' His nose scrunched slightly as if he were smelling something unpleasant. “I don’t like your scent.”

The comment hit you harder than you expected, and you pulled away slightly, trying not to show the slight discomfort it caused. He didn’t like your scent? You showered every day, wore a nice perfume, and your skin always smelled like strawberries and cream. No one had ever complained—quite the opposite—but then you remembered.

Sunghoon wasn’t human. He was a hybrid. And hybrids had different needs. Different sensitivities.

You looked at him with slightly furrowed brows. “What does that mean? That I’d invade your territory?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'Exactly.'

You made a dramatic expression, clutching your heart as if he had just stabbed you. “Oh no! How will I ever survive? I, poor human, rejected by your sacred kingdom!”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. 'Would you stop being so theatrical?'

"NO."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. 'I’ll come to your place at five. First, I need to go to the gym.'

You looked at him, surprised. “OH.” Then you nodded, trying not to look too pleased. “Alright then.”

Sunghoon shifted slightly, and your hands slid away from him.

As he walked away, not looking back, you heard him grunt softly.

A grunt of pleasure, and your eyes widened.

He’d just told you he didn’t like your scent. And yet… his body had reacted to your touch.

When Sunghoon entered your room, he immediately sensed something was off.

The scent of strawberries and cream, the one he hated to admit he adored, was weaker, covered by the sweet, enveloping fragrance of vanilla. He wrinkled his nose, his ears twitching slightly, and his tail flicked behind him.

It was irritating—irritating because he liked your scent, irritating because he liked it too much, irritating because he knew exactly what it meant for a hybrid like him.

He watched you as you casually fixed your hair, your solitary princess-like air, your clothes always just a little too short, a little too tight, and your sweet but cheeky smile that made him so damn frustrated.

Why did you always have to be so annoying?

Why did you always have to be so damn attractive?

He slumped down onto your desk chair with a bored expression, but his eyes didn’t miss a single detail of your figure.

Your pink cardigan covered a light tank top that moved slightly with each breath you took, the short skirt revealing your smooth thighs…

'Tsk.' He shook his head. 'This room is exactly what I expected… Too much like a spoiled little girl’s.'

You raised an eyebrow, hands on your hips. “What do you mean, ‘too much like a spoiled little girl’?”

He allowed himself a sarcastic grin. 'White and pink everywhere, a scent that smells like it came straight out of a bakery… It’s like you’re trying to seduce someone with just the smell.'

You stepped closer with an innocent smile. “It’s not my fault hybrids have such sensitive noses.”

The way you said it, with that sweet, innocent voice, made him clench his jaw.

There was something unbearable about you, and it wasn’t just your popular princess attitude, it was the way you knew exactly how to make him want to put you in your place.

And the way, damn it, every single part of your body seemed made to be touched, held, bitten—Damn it, he had to get a grip.

'By the way,' he muttered, looking away and crossing his arms, 'that vanilla candle isn’t doing much to cover your scent.'

You stopped, surprised. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. 'I mean your scent is everywhere. It’s not just on your skin, it’s in here, soaked into the air, the bed, the clothes… probably even the carpet.'

You bit your lip, as if considering something, and he immediately looked down at it, cursing himself.

It was soft, too soft, and he wanted to take it between his teeth and��

No, stop. You flashed him a sly smile. “Are you sure you don’t like my scent, then?”

Sunghoon shot you a sharp look, his tail flicking slightly. 'Are you sure you want to play with me, princess?'

Your smile grew even more provocative. “Maybe.”

He leaned slightly forward, his eyes dropping to your lips, to your hands playing with your skirt, as if you were unaware of how much of your thighs you were exposing.

Asshole or not, he was still a guy, a hybrid with amplified senses.

And your body was speaking louder than you thought. It was maddening, it was irritating, you were excited.

Sunghoon shook himself out of those thoughts and ran a hand through his hair, looking annoyed. 'Look, instead of wasting time flirting, how about we try solving these exercises?'

You looked at him with sweet eyes, but the cheekiness never left your expression. “Flirting? Me?”

'Oh, don’t play innocent.' He chuckled with a tight-lipped smile. 'You know what? Let’s make it a game.'

Curious, you tilted your head. “A game?”

'Yes.' He relaxed in the chair, crossing his arms behind his head, his tone becoming more provocative. 'If you solve three problems out of five, I’ll give you a gift.'

Your eyes lit up instantly. “A gift? What kind of gift?”

He leaned slightly forward, coming closer to your face. 'You’ll only find out if you win.'

Sunghoon shot you a sharp glance as you focused on his notes. 'Repeat the concepts out loud. Clearly, without mistakes.'

You rolled your eyes but obeyed.

After a solid half-hour of reading, processing, and understanding, he nodded in approval. 'Good. Now put it into practice. Solve these problems, identify the right concept, and calculate.'

You bit your lip as you picked up the pen and started writing. Sunghoon sat beside you, arms crossed, eyes locked onto your movements. Every time you made a mistake, he corrected you with a firm voice—almost too authoritative.

And that entertained you way too much.

“Are you always this strict?” you asked with a teasing smile, resting your chin on your hand as you looked at him playfully.

He didn’t even flinch. 'Are you always this distracted?' he shot back with a sarcastic smirk.

“No, it’s just that your voice is so deep and commanding that I find it hard to concentrate.” Your tone was deliberately sultry, and you loved the way his ears twitched slightly in response.

Sunghoon threw you a piercing look. 'Stop playing and finish the problems.'

You bit your lip to hide a smile as you returned to writing, but his unwavering stare made it difficult to focus.

More than an hour later, you sighed and stretched with a small, satisfied hum before handing him the papers. You leaned in a little closer, resting your arm against his, barely brushing against him.

Sunghoon gritted his teeth.

“What?” you asked with a mischievous grin.

'Go sit somewhere else. I need to correct these.'

You huffed but, feigning innocence, curled up on your bed. Sunghoon’s eyes flickered to your exposed thighs for a split second before returning to your exercises.

You watched him as he corrected them—his tense jaw, his large hands gripping the pen with confidence. He was handsome. Too handsome for your good.

And as you watched, your mind started to wander.

To how it would feel to kiss him.

To how it would feel to brush your fingers over his ears while his lips trailed down your neck.

To how his hands would feel on your body.

To how it would feel to have him inside you, his knot swelling as he filled you.

To how his breath would hitch as he sank deeper, to how it would feel to have him push until you lost your mind.

To how he would look above you—naked, his ears lowered, his sculpted chest glistening with sweat as his dark eyes devoured you.

You clutched your stuffed bunny tighter against your chest, letting out an involuntary sigh.

And you didn’t immediately realize that Sunghoon had finished grading your exercises. When you finally looked up, he was standing right in front of you.

His tail was flicking rapidly, almost uncontrollably.

His ears were lowered, and his eyes were fixed on you.

'What the hell were you just thinking about?' he murmured in a low, almost dangerous voice.

And the way he looked at you only made you want to push his buttons even more. You swallowed and shifted onto your knees on the bed, trying to appear natural, even as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Well?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation away from whatever he had just implied. “How did I do on the exercises?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms, his dark, piercing gaze never leaving you. 'I asked you a question first.'

You bit your lip and looked away. Damn it. He had noticed everything.

He smirked, his tail giving a small flick—a sign that he was enjoying this. 'Why are you blushing, princess?' His tone was teasing, but there was something else in his eyes.

You shook your head, trying to deny it, but his gaze dropped to your legs. He noticed how you had instinctively pressed them together and scoffed. 'Tsk. So it’s true.'

Heat exploded in your chest.

'You were thinking dirty thoughts about me,' he continued, his voice almost amused, 'while hugging a damn bunny plushie.'

His eyes flicked to the stuffed animal still in your arms.

You clutched it tighter against your chest on reflex. “This bunny has a name!” you shot back, desperately trying to change the subject.

'Oh yeah?' He leaned down, effortlessly snatching the plushie from your arms. 'What’s its name?'

“Mochi…” you mumbled, crossing your arms with a pout.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, inspecting the plush with a raised brow. 'Mochi, huh?' Then, after a brief moment, he tossed it carelessly beside you. With his usual authoritative tone, he pressed on, 'Now, tell me exactly what you were thinking'

You knew that if you kept denying it, he wouldn’t let it go. He wasn’t the type to back down. And honestly… you enjoyed playing with him.

So, with a shameless smile and a sweet voice, you tilted your head. “I was thinking about you.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow but remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

“About what it would be like to kiss you.”

His ears twitched slightly.

“To run my fingers over your ears while you kissed my neck.”

His tail gave a small, sharp flick, and his gaze darkened.

“To feel your hands on me…” Your voice dropped lower, deliberately sultry. “And to feel you inside me.”

For a moment, a thick silence filled the room. Sunghoon remained completely still, his jaw clenching as he stared at you with hungry eyes.

Then, he let out a small scoff, shaking his head with an incredulous smirk. 'You’re completely insane.'

“You asked,” you replied innocently, batting your lashes.

He studied you for another moment before reaching into his backpack.

He pulled out a strawberry and cream lollipop.

Your eyes lit up instantly as he unwrapped it slowly, deliberately teasing you.

'You got three exercises right,' he said, his voice slightly softer as he stepped a little closer. 'And a good student deserves a reward.'

He handed you the candy, and without thinking twice, you brought it to your lips and took it between your teeth, savoring the sweet taste you loved so much but you didn't even have time to really enjoy it before Sunghoon’s fingers rested under your chin, lifting your face towards him.

Your eyes widened slightly when his low, almost hoarse voice ordered you:

'Suck on it. And look at me.'

His eyes were fixed on yours, dark and intense. For the first time, despite his arrogance and the fact that he was being a complete jerk, you noticed something different in his gaze.

Was it sweetness? Only for a second, because his dark eyes were glued to your lips every time you sucked on the lollipop. Your tongue slowly gathered the sugary sweetness, and he felt an annoying heat spread across his chest. His tail, which until then had been moving in a measured rhythm, started to move faster behind him, a clear sign of his growing restlessness.

He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the growl that escaped his lips. Why the hell were you having this effect on him? Why did you insist on looking at him with those innocent eyes while doing anything but innocent things?

Suddenly, without warning, he grabbed your wrist and pressed the lollipop against his lips. His teeth sank into the candy with a soft crack, breaking it. The sugar melted on his tongue, the sweet taste filled his mouth... and he growled quietly, almost amused.

Then, without giving you time to react, he lowered himself onto you and kissed you with overwhelming force.

His lips were warm, and confident. The kiss was a mixture of sweetness and dominance, as if he was trying to punish you for every thought you'd dared to have about him.

You let out a surprised moan, and when he heard it, his tail stiffened for a moment before starting to move even more agitatedly.

You, of course, couldn’t miss the opportunity to tease him. Pulling away just slightly from his lips, you whispered with a mischievous smile:

“Wasn’t it you who said you hated the taste of strawberry and cream?”

Sunghoon looked at you, his chest rising and falling slightly from his irregular breathing, then clenched his jaw. Without saying a word, he grabbed you again and kissed you with even more intensity, as if he wanted to erase that cheeky smile from your lips.

You, amused, slipped your fingers into his dark, soft hair, gripping it slightly, and pulled him even closer to you. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, feel his muscles tense beneath your hands, smell the slightly wild scent of his skin blending with your vanilla and sugar scent.

Eventually, Sunghoon pulled away from you with a heavy breath, his eyes darker than ever.

''You’re impossible,' he murmured, lowering his gaze to your flushed lips.

“And you’re a liar,” you replied with a little smile, slowly licking your lower lip, still covered in sugar.

Sunghoon growled softly, his tail twitching in an involuntary jerk. Then, almost as a punishment, he gently pushed you against your pillows and lowered his head to your neck.

His warm breath grazed your skin, and then you felt his lips brush against you with agonizing slowness. One kiss, then another, then a soft bite on your delicate skin.

'You shouldn’t have thought those things about me,' he whispered against your neck, his voice a mixture of amusement and danger.

You shivered, but you certainly had no intention of backing down.

“You shouldn’t have listened to my thoughts, then.”

Sunghoon smiled against your skin, his low, deep laugh making you vibrate slightly beneath him. Then he lifted himself just enough to look at you with those sharp eyes, full of something you still couldn’t quite decipher.

'You drive me crazy, every day.'

You chuckled softly, your fingers still in his soft gray ears. You felt them twitch slightly under your touch, and when you gently squeezed them between your fingers, Sunghoon growled and a low moan escaped his lips. The sound sent a shiver down your spine.

'You’re playing with fire, you know that?' he murmured against your lips, his voice deep and hoarse with desire.

“Mh, I know,” you replied with a sweet smile, kissing him again.

His hands settled on your hips with a firm, almost possessive grip, and you could feel his tail thrashing frantically behind him. The kiss grew more intense, and hungrier, and you melted into his arms. Then, without thinking too much, you took his hand and placed it under your skirt.

Sunghoon stiffened instantly, his ears flattened backward, and his eyes darkened. The low growl that escaped him vibrated between you two.'“I don’t want to hurt you,' he whispered, with a sincerity that made you melt.

You smiled softly, biting your lip.

“You won’t.” He sighed heavily, his gaze burning as his fingers barely moved against your warm skin.

'You know too well that I could.' You tilted your head and gently brushed your fingers against his cheek, looking at him sweetly.

“Actually, I’ve studied a bit more about rabbit hybrids…”

At those words, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, briefly returning to the cheeky and authoritative guy he usually was.

'Oh, really? And what did you discover about me this time?'

You hesitated for a moment, then, with a bit of shyness, you asked him:

“Are you in heat?”

Sunghoon stared at you for a moment before bursting out laughing, a deep, incredibly sexy sound.

'If I were in heat, trust me, I wouldn’t be here talking to you so calmly. I’d already jumped on you.'

You sighed theatrically, placing a hand on your chest.

“Phew! Thank goodness, I wouldn’t know how to handle you if you were in heat too... you’re already hard enough to handle normally.”

He growled quietly and grabbed you by the waist, pushing you back under him.

'Oh, sweetheart... and I thought you liked me precisely because I’m hard to handle.'

His mouth found your neck, and between one kiss and a soft bite, he asked with a low and intriguing voice:

'So, what else have you discovered about me?'

You blushed slightly, your hands still in his soft ears.

“Well… I read that rabbit hybrids are very territorial, that they can become a little obsessive with those they’re interested in... and that when they find someone they truly want, they won’t let go.”

Sunghoon raised his head, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous.

'Mh… true,' he whispered with a mischievous smile. 'And what else?'

You hesitated, then murmured:

“That... that rabbit hybrids have a knot, and that... when they want to claim someone, they don’t stop until they’re completely satisfied.”

Sunghoon licked his lips, his eyes locked on yours, then lowered his head near your ear.

'Sweetheart…' he whispered with a grin against your skin. 'If you keep talking like that, I’ll end up showing you exactly how true the things you’ve read are.'

“I read… I read other things about rabbit hybrids too.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, amused by your hesitant tone. His fingers absentmindedly brushed your bare thigh without pushing further.

'Mh… like what?' he asked, his deep voice still nibbling gently at your neck, leaving little red marks on your skin.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I read that... rabbit hybrids have a lot of stamina. Much more than humans.”

He smiled against your skin.

'True,' he murmured. 'We could go on all night without a problem…'

He teased you, and you felt the heat rise in your body. But it wasn’t over.

“And I also read that... when a rabbit hybrid is with the partner they’ve chosen, they become much more affectionate. That they need constant contact, hugs, and cuddles, even in the most ordinary moments.”

Sunghoon stopped kissing you for a moment and propped himself up on his elbow, looking at you with a sly smile.

'Oh, so you want to know what I’d be like if I were your boyfriend?'

You nodded, biting your lower lip a little.

“I read that rabbit hybrids can’t stand being away from the person they want. That when they get attached, they become a little... obsessive.”

He chuckled, and his gaze grew darker.

'So, are you implying that I’d be obsessed with you?'

You shrugged with a little smile.

“Maybe, yes?” Sunghoon shook his head, laughing softly.

“For now, I’m enjoying torturing you too much.”

He pricked your hip and you laughed, but immediately held your breath when you felt his fingers slide a little higher, under your skirt. He lowered his head and went back to suck on your neck, while his hand grazed the inside of your thighs, rising more and more.

"I also read..." you began, but your breath became shorter when the tips of his fingers touched the thin fabric of your panties.

'Mh? Continue, I'm curious.' he said with a smirk, without stopping.

"I read that the knot of a rabbit hybrid can last a long time and that when you're in heat, it can be swollen for hours." Sunghoon giggled his mouth still on your neck, and gave you a little bite.

'Mh... Interesting. Want to know how long it would normally last? Nod, blushing.

'Depend.' he whispered, his voice lower and velvety.

'But in the heat, I couldn't stop until I was sure I'd filled you up several times.'

A shiver ran through your back, and without even noticing, your legs tightened slightly. Sunghoon immediately noticed him and giggled, sliding his hand against your intimacy still covered in cloth.

'Are you wet already, sweetie?' he whispered, his fingers gently stroking the damp cloth. You swallowed and he lifted his face, looking at you with a mischievous grin.

'What color are they?' You blushed even more and looked down.

"I'm not telling you." Sunghoon laughed quietly and shook his head.

'Mh... then I guess.' he said, approaching your ear.

'Pale Rose ... with a nice white bow in the center.'

Your breath froze and he looked you in the eye, amused. 'Did I guess?' You nodded softly, biting your lip, and he smiled smugly.

'I knew you were the cute panties girl.' he muttered, sliding even closer, making you feel all the warmth of his body.

'You drive me crazy day after day, you know?' Sunghoon watched you from above, his breathing slightly heavier as his hands slid confidently down your thighs. His rabbit ears barely moved, attentive to your every sigh, while his tail swayed with a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm.

'Tomorrow if you put on this skirt again everyone will see my bites,' he whispered, his voice low and slightly hoarse, with a satisfied grin. His fingers traced invisible paths on your skin, leaving chills everywhere. 'Maybe you should think twice before challenging me like this.' You groaned slowly, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much that phrase of hers had affected you.

"Oh? What if I did it on purpose?" you teased him with an innocent smile, which you knew would drive him crazy. Sunghoon growled softly, a deep, throaty sound that made his chest vibrate against yours. His dark, intense eyes shone with something predatory as he bent over you, his lips brushing against your neck.

'You're such a problem,' he muttered against your skin, leaving you a wet kiss before sucking hard, etching a dark mark right where he knew it would be hard to cover. His smile widened as he watched him contentedly, and then he looked at you with a more serious expression, his tone suddenly deeper.

'Do you want it?' he asked, his hand gently caressing you, in contrast to his voice charged with desire and warning. 'Because if I do... you will never go back.' There was something wild about him at that moment, something primal that made you want to provoke him again, but also to give him everything. You nodded, biting your lip, and his eyes darkened even more. Sunghoon giggled softly, his fingers slid higher, exploring, skimming, and then stopped right where you wanted most. He leaned over you, his mouth next to your ear as his warm breath tickled your skin. 'You're already so wet,' he whispered, the tone smug, almost mocking. 'And I didn't even really touch you.' You felt burned with embarrassment, but at the same time, you could not hold back a small moan when his fingers barely touched you, tracing lazy, provocative movements.

'Who knows how long you'd last with my knot,' he continued, laughing slightly as he played with you, watching your every reaction.

'As normal I could keep you tied up for quite a while... but what if I'm in heat?' he paused, letting the idea hit you, and then came even closer, his lips barely against yours.

'It could last a lot.' Swallow, feeling your body reacts to his words in a way you knew he had noticed. Sunghoon smiled against your skin, his satisfaction evident. 'Tell me, princess,' she continued, her voice like dark velvet. 'Are you sure you can handle me?'

Your bed looked smaller with Sunghoon above you. Or maybe it was he who seemed bigger to you, his warm body touching yours, his ears moving imperceptibly as he listened to your every breath.

'I can't believe you made me come here...' he muttered, his voice a breath against your skin. 'And for what? To see you blush and tremble like that?' The smile that curved his lips was the perfect expression of his character: mischievous, amused, but also dangerously sweet. He looked at you as if you were the most interesting game he had ever found. You tried to gather some courage, to respond with the same confident tone that he used to use with you. "Maybe you're shaking, Hoon."

You saw him raise an eyebrow. 'Oh? Are you trying to tease me?' Your body had a little gasp when a finger of his entered your pussy already completely excited. He was slow, maddening as if he had all the time in the world. 'How cute...' he whispered, tilting her head to the side.

'But do you know what the problem is, Y/n' He lowered his face until he touched your ear, his voice so low and velvety that it made you shudder. 'You're playing with a rabbit hybrid. And we never lose.' His ears moved, picking up how your breathing had broken, how your heartbeat had become faster. He laughed quietly.

'You feel it too, don't you? The way your body responds to me without me even having to strain.' The finger that was dent of you began to pump it faster and faster with more determination. A little groan eluded you, and Sunghoon bit his lip. 'Mm ... already so sensitive? But I didn't even start, baby.'

You felt like you were being blown away by the way he called you. "Stop making fun of me..." you muttered, but your voice had no conviction.

'Oh, no, no, no...' Sunghoon shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. 'See, I can't do that. It's too much fun watching you fight against something you know you can't win.' he teased your clitoris and without telling you anything he let another finger into your vaginal folds and grinned at the sight of how soaked and how you were taking them well, and when your body reacted immediately, his laugh was almost smug. 'See? It's useless. Your body is already begging me.' Frustration made you clench your fists on the sheets.

"H-Hoon..."

'Mmmh?' His tone was playful, but his eyes were dark, hungry.

'Tell me, love. What would you like?' Love. The way the word had slipped out of his lips gave you chills. There was something in the way he said it, in the sweetness contrasting with his possessive touch, that drove you crazy. And Sunghoon knew it. Oh, how much he knew.

"V-I want..." you tried to talk, but he interrupted you.

'Do you want me to continue? Want to hear more? Or do you want me to slowly drive you crazy until you are no longer able to think about anything but me?' Your body responded before your mind. You clung to his shoulders, your breath now broken. Sunghoon tilted his head, pleased. 'Oh, baby ... you've already lost, you know that, right?' He was made for this. To perceive you. To understand you more than you yourself could do. His fingers moved inside you with maddening slowness, yet the pressure and depth were perfect. You felt completely in his power, your body responding to him in ways that even you couldn't control. Sunghoon looked at you, his eyes dark and deep, as his chest rose and fell with irregular breaths.

'God, Y/n' Look how you're squeezing around my fingers.' His ears moved frantically, picking up your every broken breath, every slightest sound that escaped from your lips. Every time you moaned, every time your body trembled under his touch, Sunghoon felt something inside him light up more and more. The hybrid inside him wanted more. But he had to be cautious. When you asked him to study together that morning, his instincts leaped joy. Spending time with you, smelling your scent more closely ... was all she wanted. But then you said those innocent words, without even imagining the devastating effect they would have on him.

"Can I come to you, then?" Sunghoon had almost lost control at the time. Nope. It was his immediate response, dry, almost too harsh. But the truth was that he could not allow it. If you had walked into his room, your smell would have soaked everywhere, in his pillows, in his sheets, on his clothes. And with his hybrid heat starting to show... that would be the end for him. It was better to test the soil in your room. And now there you are, in your bed, your body under his, his fingers sinking into you with incredible precision, as if he knew exactly what to do to freak you out.

'Do you like it that way?' he asked with a hoarse whisper, his mouth a few millimeters from yours.

'Do you like it when I touch you like this, when I make you feel all mine?'

You couldn't even answer. You just tightened the sheets with force, the body starting to shake under him. Sunghoon immediately noticed.

His smile widened as he slowed down the pace a bit, making you almost whine in need. 'Wait, wait ... don't tell me that...' His fingers moved deeper, slower but more intense, and your body twitched involuntarily.

'Are you coming?' his voice was a mixture of fun and pure lust. You nodded faintly, your face red with embarrassment. "S-Yes ... continue, please..."

'Oh, sweetie...' he sighed, lowering himself to nibble at your earlobe.

'You don't even have to ask me.' And then you heard it. His thumb slid over your clit, tracing slow, torturing circles. A small cry escaped from your lips, and Sunghoon groaned softly at that sound. 'So sensitive...' he whispered.

'What if I did this?' He pressed lightly, pinching gently, and your body instantly strained, the tension within you now untenable.

'Come for me, Y/N.' His voice was an order disguised as a supplication. 'Just for me.' And as if he had turned on a switch inside you, the pleasure exploded into an electric shock that made you arch your back against him, a broken groan that filled the room. Sunghoon watched you intently as your body trembled under his touch, his irregular breathing as he tried to contain his desire. His fingers moved a couple more times, slowly bringing you down from the apex, and then he retreated, looking at you with a smile full of satisfaction.

'Beautiful...' he muttered, his dark eyes fixed on yours. 'And only for me.' He ducked down to lay a light kiss on your cheek, a surprisingly sweet gesture, almost at odds with the fire still burning in his eyes.

You tried to catch your breath, your legs still shaking but Sunghoon... he didn't seem at all willing to give you a break. You felt his warm breath on your thighs as his hands held you wide open, immobilizing you under his weight. And then his tongue-hot, wet, relentless—slid down your still throbbing flesh. A desperate groan escaped from your lips. "H-Hoon ... what are you doing?!" He laughed softly, his mouth still pressed against you.

'What a stupid question, baby.' His ears moved frantically as if picking up every little sound you made.

'I'm just enjoying my favorite meal.' He licked you again, deeper this time, and you gasped, trying to pull away. But there was no escape. His hands pressed on your thighs with more force, keeping you well open for him. 'Don't you dare run away.' His voice dropped an octave, turning into a barely noticeable growl.

'I'm still eating.' A shiver ran through your back. You had never seen Sunghoon like that—so wild, so obsessed.

'God, your smell...' he sighed, pushing his face even deeper between your legs.

'You have no idea how crazy it makes me.' His tongue slid into you without warning you felt that he slightly sucked your beautiful swollen and sensitive clit, you screamed, your hands clinging to the sheets as your body arched under him. "S-Sunghoon!" He groaned at you, the sound deep and animalistic.

'So tight... so hot...' he licked her lips, collecting every drop of your excitement. 'I want to hear you tremble for me again.'

"N-No... it's too much!" you tried to protest, your body still sensitive from the first orgasm. "I can't take it anymore!"

Sunghoon paused for a moment, looking up at you. His smile was lethal. 'Oh, sweetie...' He sighed with false compassion, slowly running two fingers over your opening. 'Don't tell me lies.' And then he mercilessly shoved his finger inside again and a broken sob escaped you as your body instantly welcomed him, wetter than you would have liked to admit. Sunghoon laughed softly.

'See?' he licked her lower lip, her dark eyes shining with pure lust.

'Your body is begging me for more' He increased the rhythm of his fingers, moving them inside you with frightening precision. Every shot was aimed, deep, perfect. "A-Wait ... Sunghoon!"

You writhe under him, trying to escape from that too-intense pleasure. But his hands held you motionless, his fingers faster and faster, more and more impatient.

'Wait?' He laughed with mockery. 'Why should I? Look how you already take me so well.' Then she ducked again, and her mouth closed on your clit. A scream escaped from your lips, tears stinging at your eyes from too much intensity. 'Shhh...' Sunghoon barely looked up, his warm breath on your sensitive skin. 'Don't whine, Y/N. I know you can give me another one.'

You shook your head hard. "N-no...I can't..." His smile widened dangerously.

'Oh? Can't you?' And without waiting for an answer, he added a third finger. "A-Ah! No ... it's too much!" Sunghoon groaned softly, the sound guttural and animalistic.

'No, honey. It's perfect.' He lowered his face until he touched your ear, his fingers continuing to move mercilessly. 'I must spread you well ...'

he whispered, his voice slipping like poison on your skin. 'You have to be ready to take everything. Because I want to tie you'

Your body froze. He immediately heard it and laughed quietly. 'Oh, yes...' His fingers moved deeper, his thumb lazily playing with your most sensitive point. 'I want to feel your body tighten around my knot. And trust me, baby...' He lifted slightly, his eyes burning with desire as he looked down on you. 'Once it is inside you, you can no longer escape.'

And with that last promise, he sank even deeper, determined to shape you perfectly for himself. Your body was completely surrendered to him, every breath was a moan, every movement an uncontrolled tremor while Sunghoon was lost in the pleasure of devouring you. His fingers were inside you again, long, dexterous, hungry. Each thrust was deeper, more precise, more cruel. And his tongue—that damn tongue-didn't stop, gliding over your most sensitive point with manic dedication.

"S-Sunghoon ... I ..." you stammered, your voice broken with pleasure. He laughed softly, sounding dirty and satisfied against your sensitive skin. 'Oh? You want to tell me something, bunny girl?' You hated Him when he called you that. No, it wasn't. You loved it. His ears barely moved, picking up every little sound you made as his fingers moved faster.

'Mh? Are you so close yet? What a good girl..' His tone was a sweet poison, made to melt you completely. You bit your lip, shame mixed with excitement that made your blood boil. "Yes ... s-I'm coming..."

Sunghoon groaned softly, the sound guttural and animalistic. 'Say it in my language.'

A shiver ran through your back. "C-What...?" He smiled at you, and without warning, closed his lips around your clit and sucked. You screamed, your head throwing back between the sheets.

'Say it.' His voice was low, an order. 'Tell me you're coming, in my language.' You weren't sure you could speak, your head clouded with the pleasure that was overwhelming you. But when his fingers folded into you in the right place, the words escaped from your lips before you even knew it.

"H-Hoon ... s-I'm going to s-squirt..." He groaned at you, his tongue pressing harder as his fingers continued their incessant rhythm.

'Yes ... so, sweetie. Combine a nice mess for me on my tongue.' Another accurate blow, another stronger sucking and the dam broke.

"A-Ah! H-Hoon!" Your body buckled violently, your hands clasping desperately to the pink sheets as the pleasure overwhelmed you with devastating power. The warm, transparent liquid slipped on his fingers, wetting the bed under you. Sunghoon paused for a second, looking with dark, bright eyes at the result of his work. Then she licked her lips, collecting every drop she could with her tongue.

'Look what a mess you made, good girl' His voice was low, dirty, full of pride. 'And to think that you pretend to be innocent.' He teased you, his crooked and dangerous smile as he stared at you from above.

'Did you like to dirty your pink cot?' Redness bursts on your face.

"I ... I'm a good girl!" you protested, your voice weak. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, amused.

'Oh? Are you sure?' His finger crept back into you, slow and deep, as if he wanted to punish you for lying. 'Because your body says the opposite.' You looked at him with shiny eyes, his breathing still irregular. You couldn't stand his satisfied look. So, without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his ears. Sunghoon grunted and made a low, deep, animalistic sound, directly against your clitoris. The vibration jolted you, and before you could stop, the pleasure hit you again, ripping off a second orgasm with a force that left you breathless. Sunghoon laughed quietly, satisfied, as he watched you tremble beneath him.

"N-It wasn't written in the blog..." you gasped, trying to regain control of your voice, "...that the rabbit hybrids were so obsessed with getting their companions to come."

Sunghoon froze for a moment, his ears rising carefully. Then he burst out laughing softly, the sound deep and satisfied. 'Oh, sweetie...' His tail darted with amusement, touching your sensitive skin as his gaze grew even more predatory.

'Are you suggesting that your stupid blogs know more than I do?' He teased you, his tone charged with mischief.

'You're really adorable.' He lowered his face, slowly biting your earlobe before whispering to you in a low, defiant voice: 'Should I show you how little you know about rabbit hybrids?' A shiver ran down your back, but your gaze slipped unwittingly lower, right on him. And when your eyes rested on his sweatpants and the noticeable length he pressed against the fabric, you felt your breath break. It was ... big.

Much more than you expected. And your body reacted before you could even stop. Your instinct told you to take off those pants, to find out what they were hiding, to satisfy the feverish curiosity that had just run over you. But your sweetest and timid side tried to resist. Sunghoon, however, already knew you too well.

'Mh? What is that look?' His voice was full of fun.

'You want something?' You felt yourself burning with embarrassment, but his defiant tone made you grit your teeth. You liked to tease him, you loved to challenge him, play with his limits, and provoke him until you saw his self-control crumble. So, without saying anything, you reached out and grabbed the edge of his suit. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, surprised. 'Oh? Look who takes the initiative...' You ignored him, biting your lip to hide a smile, and with a slow and intentional movement, you lowered both his pants and Boer There was a moment of silence.

Then your eyes opened wide. His cock jumped out, slamming against her abs with a slight bounce. It was long. Long, slightly pinkish, crossed by prominent veins that made it look even more imposing. A drop of pearl liquid was already dripping from the tip, a sign of his excitement that had accumulated to the limit. And for the first time, it was Sunghoon who seemed slightly embarrassed. He ran his hand through the black tufts, looking away for a moment, and his ears drooped slightly. His cheeks turned an imperceptible pink.

He popped his tongue, his jaw clenched. 'What the hell are you looking at me like that?'

"Are you ashamed, Hoon?" You teased him, your voice sweet and sparkling, swinging your feet slightly in the air as if nothing had happened. Sunghoon snorted, immediately returning to his usual confident expression.

'Stop talking nonsense.' But his tail betrayed him. He fidgeted nervously, brushing at you several times as if he could not stand still. You laughed quietly, but your fun was short-lived because a second later, Sunghoon grabbed your chin with two fingers and forced you to look at him. His gaze was dark, his smile dangerous.

'Teasing a hybrid is never a good idea and now...' Its tail slowly wrapped around your thigh, almost immobilizing you. 'Let's see if you can keep that swaggering look when I make you mine for real.' And with a sharp movement, he pushed you back against the bed, his hungry eyes chained to yours. His cock grazed your entrance, sliding along your already wet folds, provoking you with slow, deliberate movements. Sunghoon watched you from above, his body stretched above you, his ears barely moving, catching your every little breath. But when he spoke, his voice sounded more authoritarian than usual.

'Do you take the anti-hybrid pill?' His tone was peremptory, almost threatening. Nod quickly, cheeks on fire.

"S-Yes ... I'll take it..." Sunghoon squinted, his tail moved impatiently, touching your thigh. "So ..." His smile slowly widened.

'Are you telling me you really want it?' You felt your legs tremble.

Your breath was short, almost a whisper. "I want it." Sunghoon lowered his face until he touched your ear, his voice so low it made you shudder. 'You want it inside of you, huh?' He slowly licked the lobe of your ear, the heat of his breath driving you crazy. 'Do you want to be filled? Knotted to me?'

A shiver ran through your back. "Yes, Sunghoon..." you moaned, your body almost begging under his and with a last look that walked you from top to bottom, pushed into you with a single decisive movement.

A scream escaped from your lips. The pleasure mixed with an overwhelming feeling of fullness. It was too much. Too big. Too deep. Sunghoon grunted, his breath broken as he immobilized for a moment inside you.

'Damn... you're so tight...' His ears drooped for a moment, his instinct torn between the need to give you time to adjust and that of fucking you mercilessly.

'Are you all right?' he asked, his voice slightly softer. You reeled, trying to regain control of your body.

"S-Yes... it's just that..." You clutched the sheets, and your belly contracted around its length. "D-I have to get used to it..." Sunghoon snorted softly, his hands grasping your hips forcefully.

'Of course, you must." Then he pulled back slightly, and his tip grazed your entrance, making you shudder.

'Tell me when you want me to move.' His tone was a mixture of control and perversion. He left you a minimum of choice, but his body vibrated with the desire to take you as his instinct screamed at him to do. Your fingers clasped against his arms. "Move..." you gasped. "M-Move more ... please..."

A dark flash ran through his eyes. 'Whatever you want, sweetie.' And he began to move, slowly, at first. Pushing in and out with measured movements, making you feel every inch of its length, each lunge was deep, almost designed to make you lose your head but then, your body took over. "Hoon..." you groaned softly, fingers clinging to his shoulders. "P-Faster..." His ears strained, he stopped suddenly.

'What did you say?' His tone was dangerously amused, and your cheeks burned, but by now it was too late to go back.

"I want you ... faster..." you stammered, your breath broken. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his smile grew sharper and in that instant, his instincts took over. Her body lowered on you, her hands grabbed you with more force, his eyes darkened with pure lust and then she began to fuck you for real, no more slow and controlled movements.

Only fast, deep, animalistic thrusts. The bed creaked under you, the pink sheets now crumpled. His every lunge hit a point inside you that made you scream with pleasure and his ears moved furiously, his tail trembled. He was in the throes of his instincts.

'Ask and it will be given to you, mh?' he gasped with a grin, bending over you to sink his teeth into your neck, marking you with his bite.

'Look how your body is reduced, all tense for my cock.' His hot breath drove you crazy. 'You like it, huh? Do you feel good getting fucked like this by a rabbit?'

You couldn't answer that. You could only moan, huddling around him. Then, suddenly, you felt something change. An overwhelming heat pervaded you, starting from the belly and radiating throughout the body. Your breathing became even more labored, and your body trembled.

"A-Ah ... H-Hoon...!" you stammered, your brain on fire. Sunghoon laughed softly, his gaze predatory.

'Oh? Are you feeling hot?' He knew very well what was happening.

'Finally your body reacts as it should.' You felt his cock throbbing inside you and then, you felt it. The knot began to swell, expanding inside you, preparing to tie you to him, you stammered that it was too much, but also such a beautiful feeling as Hoon continued to fuck you. Your poor vaginal lips sucked him all the time, and you lost so much excitement that he teased you, pulled his ears, your legs squeezed him even more to you, and you kissed him while he put his hand on your stomach.

'Feel how well you take my cock... how my knot is filling you.' His whisper was full of possession, of animalistic desire.

'Sooner or later the knot will break and you will carry beautiful hybrids on your lap.' You nod amid the broken moans, the pleasure too intense to answer with real words.

'H-Hoonie...I'm coming ... ” Sunghoon smiled perversely, lowering one hand to tease your clit with her fingers.

'Come for me. Show me how much you like being mine.' A choked scream escaped from your lips as the pleasure exploded inside you, completely overwhelming you. You made a mess over his length and on the sheets, while Sunghoon bit his lip at feeling you squeeze so hard around him.

'Oh, yeah, I'll fill you up.' With a throaty groan, he knotted completely at you letting his excitement fill you.

He stood motionless for a moment, breathing heavily, savoring every second they were still tied up. When it finally melted inside you retreated slowly.

'Look what a disaster you made.' Then he kissed you sweetly, letting you recover in his arms.

'I really think that from now on we will always study in your room!'

Then, without saying anything, he smoothly moved out of bed and bent down to pick up his shirt. He naturally slipped it on you, carefully covering you, as if wanting to mark the territory on you in that way too.

'Don't move,' he ordered in a tone that did not admit replicas before quickly getting dressed. You followed him with your gaze as he left the room for a few minutes, and when he returned with a damp cloth in his hands, you stared at him with an amused air.

"Look who takes care of me. Are you sure you're the Sunghoon I know?" you provoked him with a smirk. He slightly curled his nose and grunted softly – a deep, almost imperceptible sound typical of his hybrid instinct. He glanced sternly at you as he passed the cloth over your skin gently. 'It's the least a guy should do,' he replied with simplicity as if it were obvious.

After finishing, he slipped back into the bed next to you and, without thinking about it, wrapped you with his body, clutching you possessively against his chest. Its tail barely moved, touching your thigh, while its rabbit ears leaned forward slightly, attentive to your every breath. For a while, he remained silent, carelessly stroking your side. Then you felt his grip tighten slightly.

"What is it?" you asked him quietly, taking his hand between yours. Sunghoon hesitated. You could feel it. It was as if he was struggling with something inside himself. Eventually, his breathing became heavier.

'I'm scared,' he admitted.

You stiffen. "Of what?" He looked down, his ears bent back slightly.

'Of myself.' You watched him carefully, waiting for him to continue.

'With you I checked myself,' he confessed in a low voice.

'But my heat is approaching. I don't know how I'll react when it happens. And I'm afraid to show you everything about me.'

His tail moved nervously behind him, as if unsure how to express how he felt. For a moment, he seemed almost vulnerable. You approached him and, with a sweetness that even he did not expect, you let your lips touch the little ones on his face.

"I want to see every part of you, Sunghoon," you whispered against his skin. "I'm sure you won't hurt me."

He shuddered slightly at your touch, his body tense for a single moment before relaxing again. He looked you in the eye, and something inside him snapped, he wanted you but it was not just desire. It was something deeper. Something he had never experienced before. He ran his tongue over his lips, almost nervously, and then, with a half-smile, tilted his head. 'When we are in public, however, I want you to continue to treat me as usual.'

"Obviously. I can't ruin your image as a cynical, fake bad boy and nerdy boy!" He giggled, shaking his head.

'So you like bad boy and at the same time nerdy boy?' You shook your head, amused.

"You are not a bad boy, You're just a little gruff and authoritarian." Sunghoon sighed, but inside he felt a different warmth than usual. It wasn't just about attraction. He liked you. Really. And this frightened him more than any incoming heat and he knew that in the coming weeks it would come...

taglist: @stwrlightt @hearts4cheol @lovenha7 @in-somnias-world @heeseungxo @luvyeni @jayjw16enxp @jvngwni @jooniesbears-blog @gguk-n @cloudykim @enhaverse713586 @stormy1408 @jakesw82 @misssparklyprincess @bamguetismee @jaylajakey @arclviie @strxwbloody @steddie-steddie @jungwoosbaey @laurenmia65 @tasnemluvs @lovellydisaster @rikiscupid @simj4k3 @numnommz @sspidermanss @vixialuvs @smlbch @m3wkledreamy @xylatox @ikeulove @nishikio @ancnymcnzjy @sofiafromvenus @kayjiguki @annovaz @kkamismom12 @forrds @inishij @amortenha @jayjw16enxp @sunnysidesins

PT2?

Rebblog and comments are appreciated

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfic #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon #enhypen hyung line #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours

2K notes · View notes

thedilfdiaries · 4 months ago

Text

Bottoms Up

bfd!Joel Miller x bfstepdad!Arthur Morgan x f!reader//7.1k

summary: a threesome sex pollen fic where two men kiss

warnings: mdni, 18+, 2 dicks one hole (I am not going for realism this is a sex pollen fic) reader is tipsy, oral m! and f! receiving, alcohol, sex pollen, age gap (reader is in college, make the men however old you want but they are dad's to a college-age girl), Arthur is married Joel is not, shitty moodboard

notes: this is for @yxtkiwiyxt 's nhie challenge. My prompt was never have I ever hooked up at a party with Joel Miller. If any of these warnings or the summary put you off, please move on and do not put yourself through this. A big huge thank you to my baby @thundermartini for holding my hand big on this one, sitting with me through my always never-ending moodboard crisis, helping with the title last minute, cheering me on, reading the smut, listening to me talk about this in between the other 5 million fics I have going for like a month and a half, and just being such an amazing human always I love you more than you know <3 A massive thank you to @arcanefox207 for beta-ing this bad boy on such short notice, being such a wonderful human and hyping me up, and an equally massive thank you to @itwasntimethatdidit40 for reading this as well, being a huge cheerleader always for me and the sweetest lovebug. And of course thank you a million times to @almostempty for giving me the entire sex pollen idea and how to incorporate it. I love you all so very much!! <3 And tysm @/keerysquinnpage on pinterest for the pictures of naked men

masterlist

The evening air is cool, slipping through the cracked kitchen window as Joel rinses a coffee mug under the faucet. The quiet hum of the fridge is the only sound in the house, a rare moment of stillness since Sarah moved in for college. He doesn’t mind the mess she brings with her—the stray notebooks on the kitchen counter, the piles of laundry that seem to multiply like rabbits—but it means his nights often end like this, cleaning up after her, one piece of chaos at a time.

He glances toward the trash can, where the lid doesn’t sit flush. With a low grunt, he tugs the can out, ready to take it to the curb, but as he reaches for the liner, something crumpled catches his eye. His brows knit together as he pulls out the wadded piece of paper. Smoothing it against the counter, his frown deepens.

It’s a flyer. Bright neon colors advertise a college party—cheap beer, loud music, and the promise of bad decisions. His gut tightens as he reads the details. The address is printed at the bottom and the date and time stand out like a glaring warning sign: Tonight. 9 PM. Joel glances at the clock on the microwave—it’s already past ten.

His stomach tightens.

Sarah hasn’t mentioned anything about going to a party. She’s been quiet all evening, coming home from class and heading straight to her room, earbuds in, barely mumbling a “hey” when he asked if she’d eaten dinner.

Joel runs a hand over his beard, staring at the flyer like it might offer some explanation. A dozen thoughts flood his mind- the packed rooms, the loud music, the drunk kids stumbling into each other. He can almost see Sarah in the middle of it all—maybe drinking something she shouldn’t be, maybe with a boy who has no business being near her.

“Dammit, Sarah,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the flyer back onto the counter. His fingers itch toward his phone, and before he can second-guess himself, he hits the contact for her mom.

The phone rings twice before she picks up, her voice warm but wary, the way it always is when Joel calls unexpectedly. “Hey, Joel. What’s going on?”

“Have you heard from Sarah tonight?” he asks, skipping past the pleasantries.

There’s a pause. “No, why?”

Joel exhales, gripping the edge of the counter. “She’s not here. Found a damn party flyer in the trash. Looks like it’s tonight. Think she’s there.”

Another pause, followed by a sigh. “Joel, she’s in college. Going to parties is part of the experience.”

“Yeah, and it’s part of the experience to make dumbass choices, too,” he shoots back, pacing the kitchen. “You know what these things are like. Cheap booze, god knows what else floatin' around. She doesn’t belong there.”

“She’s not a kid anymore, Joel,” her mom replies, her tone calm but firm. “She’s responsible enough to know her limits.”

“Responsible?” Joel lets out a sharp laugh. “She didn’t even tell me she was goin' out. Doesn't sound responsible to me.”

“You can’t hover over her every second,” she snaps, her patience clearly thinning. “She’s figuring things out. You need to let her.”

Joel clenches his teeth, his grip on the phone tightening. “You call carin' about her hovering? I’m just tryna make sure she’s safe.”

“And I’m telling you she is,” her mom says, exhaling sharply. “Joel, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy with this. Let her have her fun.”

Before Joel can respond, she hangs up. He pulls the phone from his ear and stares at the screen, his jaw clenching as frustration boils in his chest. Let her have her fun. The words echo in his mind, making his stomach churn. Maybe her mom can sit back and hope for the best, but Joel can’t. He won’t.

Pulling his jacket off the back of a chair, he grabs his keys and heads for the door. If Sarah is at that party, he’s going to find her. And she damn well better have a good explanation.

_____________________________

Arthur shifts in his chair, the leather creaking softly as he glances over the edge of his book. He isn’t much of a reader—hell, Sarah’s mom teases him often enough about that—but every now and then, he likes the quiet. The house is calm tonight, the kind of calm that doesn’t come around much these days.

Across the room, she scrolls through her phone, half-watching one of those reality shows she claims to hate but never misses. It’s nice, Arthur thinks, this kind of simple peace.

Then her phone rings.

Arthur watches her pick it up, her brow furrowing slightly as she glances at the caller ID. “It’s Joel,” she mutters, swiping to answer.

Arthur sets his book down, leaning back as the conversation begins. He raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. He can’t hear Joel’s words, but he can imagine them—gruff, insistent, probably pacing a hole into the floor on the other end of the line.

When she finally hangs up, she lets out an exasperated sigh, tossing the phone onto the coffee table.

“Let me guess,” Arthur drawls, his voice tinged with amusement. “Joel’s got his panties in a twist?”

Her lips twitch, but she shakes her head. “He found some party flyer in the trash. Thinks Sarah’s there and is acting like it’s the end of the world.”

Arthur snorts, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Sounds ‘bout right. Man’s wound tighter than a spring.”

“It’s exhausting,” she admits, leaning back into the couch. “I told him she’s fine. She’s not a kid anymore.”

Arthur nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe. But Joel’s got his reasons for worryin'. Can’t say I don’t see his point.”

She gives him a sharp look. “Don’t tell me you’re siding with him all of the sudden.”

Arthur shrugs, standing and stretching as he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair followed by his hat. “Ain’t about takin' sides. But if he’s worried enough to call, maybe there’s somethin' to it. Kids these days, parties like that—” He shakes his head. “Best not to assume it’s all harmless fun.”

Her frown deepens. “You’re not seriously thinking of going, are you?”

Arthur shoots her a crooked grin, pulling on his jacket. “Well, somebody oughta make sure Joel don't storm in there like a damn cavalry charge.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue, muttering something under her breath as he grabs his keys.

As he steps outside, the cool night air hits his face. He slides into his truck, glancing briefly at the dashboard before starting the engine. Joel is probably halfway to the party already, tense as a coiled snake. Arthur can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips.

Guess I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t make a damn fool of himself.

The closer Joel gets to the party, the more his unease builds. He can hear the music from blocks away, the thrum of bass vibrating through his chest. His gut twists, each beat of the song an irritating reminder that his daughter, his baby girl, is likely in there somewhere. He parks his truck and steps out into the loud, chaotic scene.

The house is a mess from the outside, students drunkenly spilling out of the door and onto the front lawn, some of them barely keeping their balance. The closer he gets, the worse the place is—loud and cluttered with more students than Joel can count. He can already feel his blood pressure rising. As he reaches the front steps, a wiry kid in a tank top and backward cap blocks his path. The kid can’t be older than twenty-one and is clearly drunk, his glassy eyes scanning Joel with exaggerated scrutiny.

“Whoa, whoa, dude, hold up,” the kid slurs, holding up a hand. “You can’t just storm in here lookin' like that. You’re way too tense, man. Party vibes only.”

Joel frowns, his patience already running thin. “I ain’t here to party. I’m here to pick up my daughter.”

The kid squints at him, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “Nah, nah, can’t let you in all mad like that. House rules, bro. You gotta chill first. Like, take a shot, loosen up, and then you can go find whoever.”

Joel stares at him, his expression hardening. “I don’t have time for this. Move.”

But the kid holds firm, producing a tray of bright green jello shots with a flourish. “No shot, no entry. That’s the rule. C’mon, man, it’s just jello. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Joel exhales sharply through his nose, his patience worn to a thread. The kid in front of him sways slightly, the jello shots jiggling on the tray as he grins like he’s just presented the best damn solution in the world.

Joel doesn’t have time for this. He’s about to shove past the guy when a familiar voice cuts through the noise behind him.

"Well, ain't this a sight."

Joel turns just as Arthur steps up beside him, hands in the pockets of his jacket, that damn cowboy hat sitting low on his head like he owns the place.

Joel hates that hat. He’s hated it since the first time he saw it, sitting smug as hell atop Arthur’s head like some declaration of personality. The damn thing makes Arthur look too at ease, too comfortable in any situation—including this one.

The kid grins wider, apparently delighted by the addition of another older man to his party obstacle course. “Ayyy, two-for-one deal! Y’all both gotta take one. House rules, bros.”

Arthur glances at the jello shots and then at Joel. “You gonna play nice, or you plannin’ to deck this poor bastard?”

Joel glares. “I ain’t here for games.”

Arthur hums, clearly entertained. He plucks one of the tiny plastic cups off the tray, holding it up like he’s appraising fine liquor. “Hell, Miller, might as well get in the spirit.”

Joel’s jaw tightens. He is not in the mood for this nonsense, but Arthur’s already tipping the shot back, his expression unreadable as he swallows. A beat later, he clears his throat, grimacing. “That’s awful.”

The kid cheers like Arthur just won some kind of prize. “Hell yeah! Your turn, grumpy dude.” He shoves the tray toward Joel again, jiggling it obnoxiously.

Joel eyes the tiny cup like it personally offended him. His fingers curl into fists at his sides. Every second he spends out here, Sarah could be getting into trouble inside. He doesn’t trust these kids, doesn’t trust the booze, doesn’t trust any of this.

Arthur nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon, Miller. Ain’t gonna kill ya.”

Joel exhales through gritted teeth. Fine. If it gets this dumbass out of his way faster.

He snatches a shot from the tray, tilts his head back, and swallows it in one go.

Immediately, regret slams into him.

It’s sickly sweet and burns in a way that doesn’t belong in jello. His face contorts, and beside him, Arthur lets out a wheezing laugh. “Oh, that’s just nasty.”

Joel coughs once, shoving the empty cup back at the kid. “Happy?”

The kid fist pumps like a proud parent. “Vibe check complete, my dudes! Go forth and party.”

Joel doesn’t waste another second. He brushes past him, Arthur following close behind. The second they step inside, the heat and smell hit him—cheap beer, sweat, and something suspiciously skunky in the air. The bass rattles his ribs, and the sheer amount of people crammed into the space makes his pulse spike.

Arthur whistles low, glancing around. “Damn. Brings back memories.”

Joel ignores him.

Arthur sighs, rolling his eyes. “Right, then. Let’s go huntin’ hound dog.”

“Have you seen Sarah Miller?” Joel asks a couple of people milling about the entryway, but no one knows where she is. Some give him blank stares, others are too drunk to respond properly. His patience is thin.

He scans the crowd, eyes darting from room to room, trying to catch sight of her. The music pulses in his ears, every movement around him only adding to the feeling that everything is spiraling out of his control. Where the hell are you, Sarah?

A few steps into the living room, Joel freezes. His name cuts through the noise like a knife.

“Well, well. Joel Miller, at a college party. Never thought I’d see the day.” The voice is unmistakable—playful, familiar, and laced with just enough teasing to make his jaw clench. Joel turns, his eyes landing on you, Sarah's friend.

You’re leaning casually against the wall, a red plastic cup in hand, looking far too amused for his liking.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Joel demands, stepping closer, his tone sharp but quiet enough not to draw attention.

You shrug, a sly smile tugging at your lips. “Same thing everyone else is doing. Relaxing, having a good time. You should try it sometime.”

Joel’s scowl deepens. “I ain’t here for that.”

“Figured.” You sip your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “Lemme guess. Sarah?”

He nods tightly. “You seen her?”

“Maybe.” You tilt your head, there's a playful glint in your eyes. “What’s it worth to you?”

Joel lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand over his face. “This ain’t the time for games, darlin’.”

You laugh softly, setting your cup down. “Relax, Joel. I’ll help you find her. You know,” you say, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you lean in slightly, “you clean up nice. Didn’t realize you’d turned into such a hot daddy.”

Arthur immediately coughs—more like chokes—his hand flying to his mouth as he fights to hold back laughter. “Oh-ho, now this is gettin’ good.”

Joel’s jaw drops slightly, his ears burning. “The hell did you just say?”

“You heard me,” you reply, unfazed. “Hot. Daddy. Don’t act so surprised—it’s a compliment.”

Arthur slaps a hand on Joel’s shoulder, grinning like a damn fool. “You know, Miller, I've been sayin’ you were gettin’ a little too soft in the middle. Guess the young folks got a name for it now.”

Joel looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole. “You’re both somethin’ else, you know that?”

Arthur leans in slightly, smirking. “Yeah, well, guess that makes you Daddy Miller now.”

Joel’s groan drowns out your laughter as he rubs his face. “I swear to god—”

“Oh, c’mon, Daddy,” you tease, winking. “Let’s find your kid before you have an aneurysm.”

Arthur, still grinning, tips his hat. “Lead the way, darlin’.”

Joel barely has time to recover from your teasing before you grab his arm and start weaving through the crowd. His gruff protests are swallowed by the thumping bass and the loud laughter of drunken college kids. He follows reluctantly, still fuming but unable to shake the warmth spreading over his cheeks from your earlier comment.

“Where’d you see her last?” he asks, his voice low as his eyes dart around the chaotic scene.

You glance over your shoulder, smirking. “Patience, Joel. I’m working on it. You’re like a bloodhound, you know that? Just sniffing out trouble.”

He shoots Arthur a glare. “You comin’ or just standin’ there lookin’ smug?”

Arthur’s smirk widens as he follows. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Joel pushes through the crowd with Arthur close behind, his jaw clenched so tight it’s a miracle he hasn’t cracked a tooth. The bass rattles the floor beneath his boots, the house packed shoulder to shoulder with college kids shouting over the music, some already sloppy-drunk and stumbling. Every second that ticks by without finding Sarah makes his chest tighten, but what’s almost as frustrating is the bastard at his side.

Arthur, the smug son of a bitch, is clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Well,” Arthur drawls as they push past a couple making out against the staircase banister. “If ya told me you wanted to relive your youth, I’d have suggested a saloon instead of a damn frat house.”

Joel shoots him a glare, but Arthur just grins, scanning the room like he’s actually enjoying himself. “This ain’t a joke, Morgan.”

“Didn’t say it was. But you gotta admit—” Arthur gestures at the chaos, some kid throwing up into a plastic cup a few feet away, “—it’s pretty damn funny.”

Joel exhales sharply, fighting the urge to deck him. “Only thing funny is how I keep puttin’ up with your shit.”

Arthur smirks. “Aw, you’d miss me if I was gone.”

“Like I’d miss a damn splinter.”

Their back-and-forth is interrupted when a girl stumbles into Joel’s side, nearly spilling her drink down his shirt. She blinks up at him, eyes glassy, then lets out a breathless laugh. “Oh my god. You guys are, like, way too old to be here. Are you professors?”

Arthur lets out a barking laugh before Joel can answer. “Somethin’ like that, sweetheart.”

Joel shakes his head, muttering under his breath, and keeps moving. Arthur follows, still smirking, but then you step into their path, that mischievous glint in your eye returning as you block their way.

“Boys, please.” you say, arms folding across your chest.

Joel exhales sharply. “You know where she is or not?”

You hum, tilting your head, letting the tension stretch just a little longer. “Maybe.”

Arthur snorts. “She’s messin’ with ya.”

You flash him a grin. “Maybe I just like seeing Joel all worked up.”

Arthur laughs, shaking his head. “You ain’t the first.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

You step closer with a knowing grin. “Pretty sure she went upstairs.”

Joel stiffens, scanning the crowded staircase. His gut twists. Upstairs could mean anything—she could be safe, just hanging out, or she could be caught up in something way worse.

“I’ll check,” he mutters, already moving toward the stairs.

Arthur’s about to follow, but Joel shakes his head. “We cover more ground if we split up. Keep lookin’ down here.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I get to stumble ‘round in a damn sea of drunk fools while you get to skulk off someplace nice and quiet?”

Joel shoots him a look. “You’d rather deal with the mess up there?”

Arthur considers, then sighs dramatically. “Fine. But if I get puked on, I’m makin’ you buy me a new damn coat.”

Joel just grunts, already halfway up the stairs, while Arthur turns back to the party. The moment you reach the second floor, the thumping bass fades slightly. The air is cooler up here, the chaos of the party reduced to muffled echoes below.

Joel glances back at you, suspicion in his gaze. “Where?”

You nod down the hall. “Last door on the left.”

Joel doesn’t waste a second, pushing forward. You follow, letting him step inside first. The moment he’s over the threshold, you swing the door shut behind you with a quiet click.

Joel turns, frowning. “What—?”

“She’s not up here.”

His brows knit together, realization settling in. “What the hell, darlin’?”

You take a slow step forward, and Joel—big, brooding, and absolutely clueless—actually takes a step back and sits on the bed.

“You seemed stressed,” you say lightly, tilting your head. “Figured you could use a break.”

Joel exhales sharply, shaking his head. “This ain’t funny.”

“Who’s joking?” You step closer, close enough that he can smell whatever sweet perfume clings to your skin. “Arthur can keep himself busy for a little while. And you… you look like you could use some help loosening up.”

Joel’s jaw ticks, his hands flexing at his sides. “Ain’t happenin’.”

You smirk. “Sure about that?”

Suddenly, the room tilts—not in a drunken, careless way, but in a slow, creeping blur. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, broad shoulders rising and falling with unsteady breaths. His shirt hangs open at the top, sweat beads at his temple, and his fingers dig into the mattress like he’s holding onto the last thread of his sanity.

Something is wrong.

You stand in front of him, warmth blooming in your chest—not from alcohol, but from the way he looks at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted, his entire body wound so tight he looks ready to snap. He looks wrecked.

“Joel,” you murmur, stepping between his knees. Your fingers trail along his jaw, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. “You feeling alright?”

His throat bobs with a hard swallow, his whole body rigid beneath your touch. “Somethin’ ain’t right,” he rasps, voice thick with strain. “Shouldn’t be feelin’ this way.”

You smirk, dragging your fingers lower over the pulse hammering in his throat. “Feel what way?”

His jaw flexes, eyes darting away, searching for an anchor—something to ground him. But control is slipping through his fingers like sand.

“You,” he grits out, voice thick and strained. “You smell so damn good.”

Your grin widens, emboldened by the way his hands twitch at his sides, like he’s resisting the urge to grab you. “Maybe that’s just you finally admitting you want me.”

A low, ragged growl rumbles in his throat. Before you can tease him further, his hands shoot up, gripping your hips with a desperation that wasn’t there before.

“Don’t play with me, darlin’,” he warns, though the heat behind it is fading fast, cracking into something more vulnerable. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his pupils dark pools of hunger and confusion. “I—I can’t think straight.”

You lean in, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Then don’t think.”

Joel exhales sharply, body trembling beneath your touch, every muscle wound tight like a drawn bowstring.

Then the door creaks open.

“What in the hell?”

Arthur’s voice slams into the moment like a bucket of ice water.

Joel curses under his breath, hands jerking away from you like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. You turn to find Arthur standing in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, his expression shifting rapidly from bewilderment to something sharper, more knowing. His sharp gaze flickers between you and Joel, taking in his disheveled state—the sweat at his temple, the way his chest heaves like he’s run a mile.

Arthur’s frown deepens. “You wanna explain why Miller looks like he’s ‘bout to keel over?”

Joel groans, squeezing his eyes shut, like he’s fighting off some invisible force. “Somethin’ was in those damn shots.”

Arthur’s face darkens. His jaw tightens, his hand dragging down his face as the realization clicks into place. “Oh, for fuck sakes.”

For the first time, you notice it—how Arthur's fingers flex restlessly at his sides, the faint flush creeping up his neck. The way his throat bobs when he swallows, like something is catching there, thick and unshakable.

You bite your lip, watching as Arthur exhales sharply. His usual composure cracking, just enough to reveal the heat flickering behind his gaze, the same one you just saw in Joel’s.

Arthur clenches his jaw, shaking his head like he can force away the sensation clawing its way up his spine. “This ain't happenin’,” he mutters under his breath, pacing in short, jerky steps, his boots scuffing against the floor.

But you see it. His fingers flex like he’s itching to touch. His gaze flickers to you, then to Joel, then back again, lingering just a second too long. He’s trying—god, he’s trying—to hold himself together, but his breath comes faster and his muscles tense beneath his shirt.

“Arthur,” you murmur, stepping toward him. Your fingers ghost over his arm, stopping his restless pacing. His muscles jump beneath your touch, his jaw locking tight as he flinches back like you’ve burned him.

“Are you feeling it too?”

A sharp inhale. A pause.

Then, in a voice stretched thin with restraint, he rasps, “Don’t.”

But there’s no real bite to it—just a desperate, fraying edge. His pupils are blown wide. His nostrils flare as his gaze flickers around the room—searching for control, finding none.

"You say that," you murmur, dragging your fingers down his chest, slow, teasing. "But you feel it too, don't you?"

Arthur’s pulse throbs under your fingertips, hot against your skin. His breath is uneven. “Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you.” The words break off, swallowed by a tightness in his throat that says more than he can put into words. “‘Bout—” He cuts himself off, like just the thought of it is too much.The way he trembles, the way his eyes darken—they’re confirmation enough.

You trace his torso before feeling the undeniable bulge beneath his jeans.

He tenses. A sharp inhale punches out of his lungs. His hips jerk forward instinctively, the thick heat of him twitching under your touch, seeping through the denim.

Arthur lets out a low, muttered curse, his resolve shattering like glass. Before you can say another word, his hands are on you.

It’s sudden—like a dam breaking. His grip is firm, almost bruising, as he yanks you in, crashing his lips against yours. Heat ignites in your veins, scorching and insatiable. You melt into him, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer. He groans into your mouth,his hands anchoring you to him, pressing you flush against him.

Behind you, Joel makes a strangled, guttural noise—something raw, something starved.

Arthur finally pulls away, his breath ragged. His forehead presses against yours, hands locked around your hips like letting go isn’t an option. His grip is possessive, claiming.

But Joel isn’t about to be left behind.

He exhales shakily, hesitation flickering in his gaze for only a second before he’s on his feet.

He closes the distance in a single step, his fingers threading into your hair, tilting your face up. And then his mouth meets yours. It’s different from Arthur—deeper, rougher, edged with something raw and desperate. His grip is sure, his hands sliding down your body, pulling you flush against him like he needs to feel every inch of you, needs to brand himself into you.

Arthur shifts behind you, a low scoff slipping past his lips. “Oh, come on, Miller.” His voice is rough, breathless, and laced with utter need. “You kissin’ her or tryin’ to romance her?”

Joel pulls back just enough to glare at him. “Least I know how to take my time, Morgan. You just gonna stand there and watch, or you gonna do somethin’?”

Arthur’s smirk is sharp as a blade. “You askin’ me to show you how it’s done?”

Before you can blink, Arthur’s hands are on you again, gripping your hips so fast your head spins. He tugs you against him, chest flush to your back, his breath hot against your ear.

“You wanna be handled right, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “You come to me.”

You feel it—the heat, the desperation, the all-consuming ache that quickly becomes unbearable. This isn’t just lust. It’s chemical. Something unnatural coils through their veins, winding tighter and tighter. Their hunger intensifies until it borders on agony.

“Sweetheart, you gotta tell us—" Arthur's hips jerk forward rolling against you and a strangled grunt slips from him. "—gotta tell us it’s okay, ��cause I can’t, won’t be able to stop."

Your stomach clenches. The sharp spike of arousal sends a pulse of heat straight between your legs. They’re breaking apart, and it’s because of you.

You swallow hard, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Arthur hands are on you in a flash, tearing at your clothes like patience is a thing of the past. His lips scorch a path across your skin, demanding and relentless as his tongue explores every inch of you. He pants like he’s drowning and needs you to breathe.

Joel is no better. His large hands roam over your body, shoving under your shirt, his fingers greedily grabbing and kneading your skin.

“Darlin’, we gotta get this off,” Joel mutters, voice thick with need.

Arthur growls, yanking your shirt up and ripping it over your head in one rough motion, fabric flying to the floor. Your bra is next, unclasped in a single tug, his calloused hands immediately covering your bare skin, kneading your breasts, thumbs swiping over your stiffening nipples.

“You’re so goddamn soft,” Arthur rasps, voice wrecked, his palms mapping every inch of you.

Joel presses his lips to your skin, tongue teasing your nipples with slow, deliberate flicks before sealing around them with a hot, insistent pull. His hands trail heat down your stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pulls back with a wet pop, breath warm against your skin. “Ain’t fair, Morgan. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Joel growls, shoving your jeans down, gripping your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp.

Arthur’s fingers skim lower, finding you already soaked. His grin widens. “Fuck, sweetheart, you really want this, huh?”

“Yeah? How wet is she?”

Arthur drags his fingers through your slick folds before flicking his gaze to Joel, smug. “Why don’t you feel for yourself?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. His hand joins Arthur’s between your legs, their fingers brushing, both of them feeling just how desperate you are.

A sharp inhale escapes you. The sensation—both their hands on you, teasing, possessive—sends a shock of pleasure straight through you.

Arthur chuckles, thick with satisfaction. “Damn. You feel that?”

Joel exhales sharply, grip tightening. “Oh yeah,” he grits out. “Feel that sweet cunt droolin’ for us.”

His fingers slip inside you, stretching you open, coaxing a moan from deep in your throat. Arthur watches, dark eyes hungry. “Gotta admit, I like hearin’ you make those sounds sweetheart.”

Joel scoffs. “Least I’m makin’ her moan.”

Arthur growls, fingers moving faster, pushing Joel’s aside like he’s reclaiming what’s his. “Let’s see who gets her beggin’ first.”

Both men grin, dark and satisfied, fingers still teasing through your slick folds. “Think she likes bein’ between us.”

Joel’s eyes burn as he watches Arthur’s hand disappear between your thighs. His jaw tightens. “Quit runnin’ your damn mouth and do somethin’.”

Arthur just smirks, fingers hooking into your panties and yanking them down, damp fabric sliding over your thighs.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream.” Joel murmurs.

Arthur scoffs. “Ain’t just gonna tell her. She deserves to feel it too.”

Joel steps back, eyes dragging over your body, chest rising and falling heavily. Arthur does the same, lips parted, a groan slipping from his throat.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Arthur mutters, fingers tracing the swell of your breasts, down the curve of your waist. “Ain’t never seen anythin’ prettier.”

Joel hums in agreement, hands following the same path, like he needs to memorize every inch of you.

Arthur’s the first to move, unbuckling his belt with a swift pull, letting it drop with a heavy clink. He shoves his jeans and boxers down, stepping free. Your breath catches.

Not to be outdone, Joel shrugs off his shirt, muscles flexing as he makes quick work of his jeans. When they fall, your mouth goes dry.

They’re both… big.

A nervous thrill rushes through you, anticipation crackling along your skin like a live wire. Arthur smirks, catching the way your eyes widen.

“Somethin’ catch your attention, sweetheart?”

Joel exhales sharply, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Bet she’s wonderin’ how she’s gonna take us both.”

Heat floods your cheeks, but the pulsing need between your thighs overpowers any hesitation. You reach for Arthur first, fingers wrapping around the base of his length, feeling the sheer weight of him. His head tips back slightly, but his eyes never leave you.

Not wanting to leave Joel waiting, your other hand wraps around him, fingers curling, testing. He sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing beneath your touch.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters, voice strained.

Arthur chuckles, breathless. “She’s got a good grip, huh?”

You lick your lips, heart hammering as you stroke them both, hands moving in slow, deliberate motions. The power of knowing you’re the cause of their unraveling sends a rush of arousal straight through you.

You lean in, taking Arthur first, tongue flicking against his heated skin. His hips jerk, a low growl slipping from his throat.

Joel’s hand slides into your hair, fingers threading through the strands—not to control, just to feel, to anchor himself as he watches you.

Arthur exhales a shaky breath, fingers flexing at his sides. “Hell, sweetheart… keep that up, and I ain’t gonna last.”

Joel chuckles, rough and strained. “Guess I gotta see what all the fuss is about.”

You glance up, meeting their hooded gazes before switching—lips leaving Arthur to wrap around Joel, your hand still working him as you take him deeper.

The sounds they make—needy, desperate, barely held together—send heat pooling between your thighs.

Arthur strokes a hand down your back. “You look so damn good like this, sweetheart.”

Joel exhales sharply, grip in your hair tightening just slightly. “Yeah, she does,” he agrees, voice ragged. “Come on, darlin’. Need you on the bed. Now.”

You barely hit the mattress before Arthur is on you. His mouth is hot, insatiable, kissing you like he’s got something to prove. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, messy and frantic, like he’s trying to erase every other man you’ve ever kissed. His hands grip your skin with urgency, mapping out every inch of you for himself.

Joel isn’t far behind. He crawls onto the bed, big hands sliding up your body. “Goddamn, baby,” he rasps, “you feel so damn good.”

Arthur drags his mouth down your throat, biting at your collarbone, fingers flexing against your hips as he grinds against you, shameless and eager. “Can’t stop touchin’ you,” he mutters, breath coming in heavy, hungry bursts.

Joel watches Arthur roll against you, sees the way your body arches for him, and lets out a low, frustrated sound. His cock twitches. His fingers dig into your thighs, possessive, patience unraveling.

“Goddamn,” he grits out. “I need you.”

Arthur’s head snaps up, eyes dark and burning. His chest heaves. “We need you,” he corrects, voice rough, daring Joel to challenge him.

You whimper, heat pooling low as Joel meets Arthur’s stare, something dangerous passing between them. Then Joel moves, fast, gripping your chin, tilting your head back into a deep kiss. His tongue sweeps against yours, stealing your breath, swallowing your sounds like he owns them.

Arthur watches with an intense gaze, his chest rising sharply. “Shit,” he mutters, voice strained.

Joel chuckles darkly. “Ain’t no stoppin’ now, Morgan.” He smirks, taunting, then glances down at you, his touch slow but deliberate. “She needs us.”

Arthur swallows hard, gaze flickering over you, taking in your wrecked state. His cock is flushed, leaking, aching. The sight of you between them, desperate and wanting, nearly drives him insane. “Then let’s give her what she needs.”

Joel’s fingers trail over your breast, rolling a nipple between them. You arch, whining, and his voice drops to a rasp. “Look at you. So goddamn beautiful.”

Arthur groans in agreement but refuses to let Joel take the lead. He moves lower, mouth dragging down your stomach, hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. He inhales sharply at the sight of your slick heat. “Christ, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking through your wetness. “All this for us?”

You nod, breathless, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please,” you whisper, wrecked with need.

Arthur doesn’t hesitate. His tongue flattens against you, moving with slow, devastating precision, determined to ruin you for anyone else.

Joel shifts beside you, watching, stroking himself. “Fuck,” he mutters, his free hand tracing over your trembling thighs. “You like that, darlin’? Like him eatin’ you out while I watch?”

Your answer is a broken moan. Your fingers tighten in Arthur’s hair as he sucks your clit, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through you. He pulls back just enough to rasp, “Wanna feel you come on my tongue, sweetheart. Be a good girl for me.” Then he’s back on you, relentless, holding you down as you writhe.

Joel grits his teeth, watching you fall apart, his strokes turning rougher, breath ragged. “Goddamn it.” His gaze burns at the way your body shakes, how your moans break into gasps.

It doesn’t take long. Pleasure coils tighter, spiraling until it snaps. You cry out, thighs trembling as you come. Arthur groans against you, licking you through every wave, refusing to stop until you’re shaking.

When you finally sag against the mattress, panting and wrecked, Arthur pulls away, wiping his mouth. His jaw is slick, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Think she liked that.” His fingers stroke over your inner thighs, teasing. “Sweet as honey.”

Joel clenches his jaw, his cock thick, heavy, flushed a deeper shade than normal. “Fuck,” he growls, gripping your thigh, spreading you wider. His voice is rough, raw with hunger. “Need to be inside ya, darlin’.”

Arthur chuckles, breathless. “That so?” He shifts up, hovering, smug. “Think I should get a turn first, Miller.”

Joel’s eyes flash. “Like hell you will.”

They hold each other’s gaze, both rock hard, both determined. Neither will be satisfied until they’ve both had you.

Arthur shifts back, but not in surrender. A challenge. He lets Joel take his place between your legs, then leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs, fingers teasing down your stomach. “Tell him whose cock you wanna feel first.”

A needy whimper slips past your lips. Your legs spread wider in silent invitation. Desperation threads through your voice. “Joel—please.”

Joel groans, victorious, guiding himself against your entrance. “That’s a good girl.”

With one brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, knocking the breath from your lungs. You whimper, still trembling from your release, but Joel hushes you, voice softer now. “You can take it, baby. You want it bad, don’t you?”

The stretch burns, but it’s a sweet, aching pain drowned out by the desperate pulse of need. Joel presses his forehead to yours, his breath ragged, his hips already snapping into a deep, unrelenting rhythm. He’s relentless, making up for lost time, proving something with every thrust.

Arthur exhales sharply, his cock twitching at the sight of you unraveling beneath Joel.

A deep, broken moan rips from your throat, your fingers digging into Joel’s biceps.

“Hell baby feel so good,” he grits out, head dropping to your shoulder. “So goddamn tight.”

Arthur watches, smirking. “Damn, sweetheart. Feels good, don’t it?” He tilts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Bet you’re squeezin’ him so fuckin’ tight.”

Joel’s jaw tenses. “Ain’t gonna last if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Arthur chuckles darkly. “Then I better make it worse.”

His hand drifts lower, brushing featherlight over your swollen clit. The jolt of sensation sends a wrecked moan spilling from your lips.

Joel curses. “Son of a bitch—”

Arthur grins, circling slow, lazy strokes, watching you shudder. “What’s wrong, Miller? Too much for ya?”

Joel growls, slamming deeper. “I can handle my fuckin’ business.”

Arthur doesn’t stop, his murmured praises filthy and relentless as Joel fucks you harder, driving you into his hold. “That’s it, baby,” Joel rasps. “Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.”

Arthur presses a kiss to your jaw, fingers working you over. “Come again, sweetheart. Let him feel you clench up nice ‘n tight—then it’s my turn.”

Pleasure coils in your belly, overwhelming, consuming. Arthur watches, his grip tight around his cock, stroking in quick, eager pumps. His jaw flexes, frustration flickering in his dark gaze before he moves.

No hesitation. No warning. Just action.

His hands grip your hips, shoving Joel’s hold aside like he’s claiming you for himself. Joel doesn’t even glance back—but his fingers tighten, sensing exactly what Arthur’s about to do.

Arthur spreads you wider, pressing in beside Joel, the stretch sharp and immediate. Your body struggles to take them both.

Joel curses, breath wrecked. “You feel that, baby? Takin’ both of us like you were made for it.”

They move in tandem, one pulling out as the other pushes in, a brutal rhythm that has you seeing stars. The pressure, the stretch, the way they fill you—it’s too much, too good.

Joel’s head falls back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as his cock grinds against Arthur’s with every deep thrust. Skin slaps, breaths tangle, and they stretch you to your limit.

Then Arthur grips the back of Joel’s neck, crashing their mouths together. It’s rough, desperate—teeth clashing, tongues fighting for control.

Joel groans into the kiss, hips snapping harder, like he’s trying to fuck you so good Arthur can feel it too. He fists a hand in Arthur’s hair, yanking him closer, deepening it with a low, wrecked sound.

The sight makes your head spin. The way they lose themselves in each other, needy and ravenous, it’s intoxicating. You reach between them, wrapping your hand around Arthur’s cock pulling it from its warm home, slick from where he’s been inside you.

Arthur jerks, gasping, his eyes blown wide. He moves, shifting toward your head, his cock brushing your lips in silent demand.

You take him in, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him deep. Arthur curses, fingers twisting in your hair, guiding your movements.

Joel’s thrusts stutter, then recover—harder, relentless. “Jesus christ,” he grits out, watching the way you take Arthur. His cock twitches inside you, throbbing. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Arthur groans, hips jerking. “That’s it, sweetheart. Takin’ us so damn good.”

Joel’s mouth crashes back to Arthur’s, their kiss messy, desperate. They groan into each other, bodies moving in perfect rhythm—Joel stretching you open, Arthur hitting the back of your throat, pleasure spilling over in waves.

The tension builds, unbearable. Joel’s grip tightens, thrusts turning erratic before he shudders, spilling deep inside you with a wrecked moan, forehead pressed to Arthur’s.

Arthur isn’t far behind. His grip in your hair tightens as he comes, thick and hot down your throat, his moans swallowed by Joel’s mouth as they kiss through it. His free hand flexes against Joel’s neck, holding him close even as his hips still.

For a long moment, the only sound is ragged breathing, the slow cooling of sweat-slicked bodies. Joel presses his forehead to yours, fingers smoothing over your waist, grounding himself. Arthur trails lazy patterns over your skin—unexpectedly gentle after the desperation of moments ago.

Joel finally breaks the silence, voice low and hoarse. “What the hell was in those shots?”

Arthur lets out a breathless chuckle. “Just know I ain’t never felt somethin’ like that before.”

You hum, fingers threading through Joel’s damp curls as he nuzzles into your neck, his body still half-draped over yours. “Guess that makes three of us.”

Arthur’s fingers ghost along your hip, voice quieter now, but dark with something possessive. “Y’think it’s outta our system?”

Joel’s hand slides over your stomach, flexing like he’s already thinking about round two. “Hope not.” His smirk brushes against your skin before he nips at your shoulder. “Ain’t done with you yet, darlin’.”

Arthur chuckles, warm and dark against your ear. His teeth scrape your pulse, his hand gripping your thigh. “Reckon neither am I.”

taglist:

@harriedandharassed @syd-djarin

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #joel miller #arthur morgan #tlou fanfiction #red dead redemption 2

1K notes · View notes

sunderwight · 10 months ago

Text

Further speculation on Shen Yuan transmigrating in some kind of Beast:

Werewolf Shen Qingqiu.

And like, major emphasis on the wolf, in his case. Not wolfman. Every full moon Shen Qingqiu has to make arrangements for himself to turn into a gigantic silvery-white wolf that retains extremely little of his consciousness, and mostly just seems to want to do Wolf Things, though according to PIDW and all information he has on the matter, he ought to be turning into a violent and bloodthirsty predator.

However, it turns out that the wolf form does retain some awareness from the mind/soul of the human, meaning that the reason SJ's wolf was so incredibly unsafe to be around was because it was constantly trying to process SJ's trauma in wild animal terms. So, it was hostile towards the vast majority of humans and in a heightened state of anxiety, always anticipating violence (and reacting accordingly) whenever something unexpected happened. Matters were not helped by SJ's decision to try and lock himself up for every transformation, which of course freaked his wolf out even more (trapped) and resulted in self-harm as it desperately tried to escape. It was just that SJ interpreted the self-harm as a sign that the wolf was so extremely violent that it would cannibalize itself rather than go a single night without the taste of blood.

SY, who is a lot less traumatized, conversely has a much more calm and curious wolf. Like he's extremely cautious and nervous about the whole thing, because he's expecting it to be violent based on his information, and since he doesn't retain much awareness of his transformations he has little idea of what his wolf-self does. But he also isn't great at locking himself up like the original goods did, and he never really seems to wake up covered in blood or anything? Once or twice he thinks he might have hunted a rabbit, but they definitely were rabbits and not like his subconscious somehow going after children in the middle of a wilderness somewhere, because when he came to the wolf had brought the leftover bunny bits along back to the ruined temple he was supposed to be shutting himself up into.

The new Shen Qingqiu consequently gets a bit complacent about the whole thing. He can only blame himself. Maybe he should have anticipated Luo Binghe, with his boundless curiosity and interest in his shizun, would notice the oddities in his schedule and follow him out one night. Everyone's supposed to believe that he's just going to brothels and engaging in purely mundane debauchery, though, so why would Binghe doubt his story?

But he did, and so of course Luo Binghe ends up witnessing his shizun's terrible transformation into a wretched and hated beast. Stunned, the young disciple stands transfixed (no doubt in horror) in the moonlight. The wolf sees him, and though Shen Qingqiu doesn't retain much memory, he recollects the running, the leaping, the... uh... licking...?

Well. Turns out that even Shen Qingqiu's subconscious wolf mind recognizes Luo Binghe as pack, and thank goodness too, because at least he didn't attack him!

Although after that it becomes an extreme challenge to explain to Luo Binghe why he can't accompany Shen Qingqiu for his transformations every month. It's not safe, the wolf is unpredictable and Shen Qingqiu can't promise that he won't startle or suddenly change his tune and lash out, and even though Binghe's cultivation is progressing in leaps and bounds, the wolf also isn't limited to normal mortal strength. It would be able to track his scent and follow him relentlessly, chasing him down to catch and pin him beneath its massive paws, and... Binghe why is your face so red? Are you feeling alright? If it's too frightening, then let's not describe it any further, but the point is that it's dangerous.

Shen Qingqiu has to put his foot down. In the end, he has his suspicions that Binghe is still circumventing him, as he could swear he sometimes remembers running around the wilderness with company. (Binghe is absolutely sneaking out to go spend time with Wolf Shizun.) But there's nothing concrete enough to be certain. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe has at least agreed to keep it secret (for now -- probably not once the time comes for Shen Qingqiu to be put on trial) and fusses over his shizun, helping him keep track of the moon scheduling and always making sure he has a full belly before he goes into wilderness seclusion (Shen Qingqiu never says, but somehow Luo Binghe guesses anyway that he doesn't like waking up to find that the wolf had a snack during the night...)

Another hazard: lycanthropy in the PIDW setting is a curse. Like admittedly it's kind of a kickass one, but it still has tons of negative associations, most commonly befalling impoverished individuals or travelers who get bitten by wild wolf demons, and survive only to find that a piece of the wolf's spirit has gotten stuck to their own. Cultivators with lycanthropy are often associated with demons and disrepute, like Wu Yanzi, and there are countless tales of them turning on their own people or being revealed as violent, depraved criminals. It's only slightly more acceptable than being a demon outright.

In other words it's not a desirable circumstance.

And yet, for some reason, Luo Binghe is reprehensibly lapse in his protections against lycanthropy. Shen Qingqiu has told him all of the precautions he knows against it, and yet it's almost like Binghe keeps doing the exact opposite things! Listen, wolves are cool. Shen Qingqiu knows that. He's actually kind of fine with turning into one, since it seems to be less of a ravenous beast situation than he'd feared. But there are still social consequences to this kind of a thing! Luckily, it doesn't actually matter much because even with his uncharacteristic youthful irresponsibility, Binghe's heavenly demon blood protects him from ever being cursed. The only way he'd get lycanthropy would be if he deliberately let a werewolf bite him and then just refused to excise the curse, and even then, he could purge the tainted wolf spirit from him just by force of will whenever he wanted.

Seriously, though! It's only when Shen Qingqiu points out that Luo Binghe is going to make people suspicious with all his negligence towards basic precautions that Binghe finally smartens up about it.

(Luo Binghe, out in the woods during a full moon: Wolf Shizun please bite me? Bite Binghe? Then we can be together every full moon! Look here I'll stick my hand in your mouth... just, just chomp down... no don't lick... *sigh*...)

Anyway, the plot still goes mostly the same, except that when Shen Qingqiu put into the water prison it's the full moon. He expects this is part of Luo Binghe's plan against him -- Binghe probably couldn't reveal the lycanthropy without also admitting he'd known before and helped hide it, but this way, Shen Qingqiu can just get caught as a wolf by the palace guards. But Luo Binghe's just been so frazzled and distressed by everything that he genuinely forgot what phase the moon was on. Shen Qingqiu's expecting a lot of things when he wakes up after transforming in the Water Prison, but being back out of the Water Prison and snuggled up to the protagonist's chest wasn't on the list.

Turns out that after his confrontation with Luo Binghe and the Little Palace Mistress, Gongyi Xiao went to check on him and found him transformed. After Gongyi Xiao alerted the rest of the palace, the Palace Master determined that Shen Qingqiu being a werewolf was as good as a confirmation of guilt, and had the wolf dragged out to be killed. Luo Binghe intervened, Shen Qingqiu took off, and between one thing and another the whole night was spent with Huan Hua and Cang Qiong cultivators trying to catch him (for different reasons).

Of course it was Luo Binghe who eventually cornered the terrified wolf, at which point the wolf actually, finally did bite him. But when Binghe failed to react, it whimpered and went back to its usual behavior, and let Binghe lead it out of the city and off to its usual territory near Cang Qiong. The wolf then proceeded to act like an overjoyed puppy whose owner had finally come back from war, until Binghe broke down and sobbed himself to sleep. It must have curled up onto his chest afterwards.

Shen Qingqiu is deeply embarrassed, but... somehow Luo Binghe doesn't seem to be taking revenge on him?

He's going to need to treat that bite wound soon, though.

Binghe.

Binghe, you are going to treat that--

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain #long post #scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe you can't be a half demon AND a werewolf #even though it's really cool #because of reasons #people already called you a gary stu on the forums you don't need to give them this kind of ammunition #not that he was ever beating the allegations anyway but that's not the point

1K notes · View notes

crescenthistory · 7 months ago

Note

hiiii, i love ur writing sm especially barty

i wanted to request the prompt "when did you realise you love me/her/him?" and barty basically feels insecure something like that so he wants reassurance from reader

thank youu

thank you for being patient with this one babe, it's one of my oldest requests:,) i have hijacked it into poly!bartylus but the main focus is still on comforting barty my babyboy

Prompt: B.13 "When did you realise you love me/her/him?"

Words: 2k

Warnings: fem!reader, not proofread, established poly relationship, heavy allusion to the terrible crimes of barty crouch sr (also known as implied abuse), freeze mode, mental health struggles, hurt/comfort, reg and reader teaming up, flirting and bickering in french and romanian

Note: this is very much cradling-y and soft. i love them, your honour.

It was always either or with Barty.

It was either the wicked grins, the booming laughter, larger than life presence with a silver tongue and tactile hands – or the impassive face, stoic demeanor, quiet voice. Either the big swings or the straight spine. Mad or measured.

It was absolutely lovely to be with him on his 'either' days, but it was the 'or' days that truly solidified your love for him. Making him understand as much was part of the challenge, but never straying from one was part of what brought you together.

It didn’t hurt that you now had backup.

“Did you hear what she said, amour?” Regulus murmured into Barty’s hair.

The three of you were huddled up in the corner of the common room sofa where your extended friend group had decided to spend their evening. Throughout the day, Barty had been growing quieter, mask around his features tightening in a way you always envisioned was physically painful.

He sat by the armrest of the sofa with you half in his lap while Regulus was perched on that very armrest. Originally the latter boy had been immersed in his book, planning on ignoring the lively chatter and disappearing into his own world – his version of unwinding. You had been ignoring the chatter as well, except it was in favour of coaxing Barty – your Barty, the one you knew was being hidden away – out of his shell. When you realised it was particularly hardened tonight, you lightly knocked into Regulus’ knee with your ankle from where it was perched across Barty’s lap.

Luckily one glance with the boy was enough to make him catch your drift; a practiced dance you more than happily fell into.

“Hm?” Barty’s voice was distant, absentminded.

You continued stroking patterns over his heart, your finger separated from his skin only by the thin material of his shirt. Repeating movements, grounding movements. “I asked if you wanted to head back to your dorm?”

He didn’t meet your eyes, training them on the fireplace instead. “Not tired.”

“Mhm, me neither darling. Just want to be with you alone.”

He tensed almost imperceivable beneath your hands. “Why?” he asked in a careful, measured voice.

“Miss you,” you whispered, pressing a firm but gentle kiss to his cheek. “Want to be with you. Is that okay?”

By now you knew that when Barty was disappearing into the rabbit hole that was his mind, short, affirming sentences were the way to go. Eliminate any possibility of worry before it could arise, all while giving him space to pull away should he feel too spooked.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

He made no move to get up, but that was alright by you. After carefully detangling your limbs, you reached out your hand for Barty to take. Relief washed over you when he did, immediately letting your thumb stroke over the back of his hand.

Regulus bid the others goodnight while you and Barty went ahead. You knew he would be quietly communicating to Evan that you three would need a moment alone and that you would most certainly be spending the night.

When Barty was in a crumbling state, he reverted to automatic movements, and thus his descending the stairs went quickly. You almost had to run to keep up with his long legs, but while you other days would have jokingly chastised him for it, maybe even send a stinging hex his way, you only made your best efforts to keep up with him.

Once, you could not have imagined how soft you would become around him. Perhaps undeservedly, you had not considered yourself capable of complete love, always suspecting there must be some inherent selfishness in you that would shine through and ruin whatever good you tried to claw at. Barty had been the first to prove that wrong in you; when he struggled, it was like a calm softness washed over you and there were no hesitations, no ego, just him.

You had not had the time to close the door to the boys’ dorm before Regulus slipped through it with his own soft smile that seemed to tell the exact same story as yours.

Hand still in Barty’s, you led him to Regulus’ bed, knowing he usually felt more comfortable there. Sliding in, you made yourself comfortable and formed the perfect Barty-sized spot beside you, but not tugging him in. His autonomy was the most important in these moments.

“Do you want to lay down, B?” you asked gently.

He looked between you and Regulus, and already you could see more of himself in his eyes, though they were clouded with an anxiety no one but you two could recognise. “Don’t you want to lay down, Reg?”

“I do. After you, though.”

“It’ll be more comfortable without me. I can head to mine.” His voice was void of emotion, but his eyes betrayed him.

Regulus met him head on. “I would not be comfortable knowing you were two metres away and not cuddling with us, love.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

“Why?”

You sighed, but did not let your reassuring smile drop. “If you want to lay down my love, please do. I want you here.”

Barty shifted his gaze to yours and you could visibly see his resolve crumble. He shucked off his uncomfortable trousers and slid under the covers beside you, tense body all hard edges against your own. Almost gingerly, he placed his head beside yours and you reached up to cradle it – he immediately leaned into your touch.

Regulus easily laid down beside Barty, the three of you having the method of how to comfortably fit on the dorm beds down to a T. “Mind if I hold you, Barty?”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered.

“Do you mind if I do?” Regulus’ voice was dripping in affectionate patience.

You could barely hear Barty’s no, but you both did. Regulus let his arms slide around Barty’s middle, shifting him so he laid more sideways and could be pulled closer to Regulus’ chest. In turn you nuzzled further into his front, cocooning him between you where you knew without a doubt that he would be safe and loved. All you wanted for him

“Do you still wonder why?” you asked after a minute of silence and settling into each other.

Barty actually met your eyes, though there was hesitance there. “What do you mean?”

“When Regulus said he loves you, you asked why. Now that we’re comfortable, do you still wonder?”

Barty nodded, almost imperceivably. You tilted your head upwards to press a soft kiss to his chin as it moved.

“Then let me first ask you this,” you said with practiced ease. This strategic layering of love and affection was your favourite way to ease him back into himself, to replace the harsh voices in his head with softer ones – preferably yours and Regulus’. “When did you realise you love Regulus?”

To your glee, the corners of Barty’s lips quivered into a small smile. “First year. He tried to help me change the sheets on my bed and was blabbering on in true Regulus fashion. It should have been annoying, but he was so cute.”

You snuck another kiss to his chin. “And me?”

The smile continued to grow, though his voice remained low. “After about a month of knowing me, you claimed you knew me. I checked you on it and turned out you actually did. You listened. I didn’t think you would.”

“You didn’t have to think at all about that. It just came to you,” you observed with a mirroring smile. Regulus hooked his chin over Barty’s shoulder to watch you deconstruct it for him, placing a firm hand over Barty’s heart to help ground him as you spoke. “It’s no different for us. There is no need to think or consider or wonder; we just do. We just love you.”

Barty’s face gave nothing away just yet, but he was softening beneath your touch, tension seeping away and into the mattress with each spoken word. “I love you, Barty, because you’re Barty. On your loud days and your quiet days, in your confidence and in your insecurity.” You began tracing his face with your index finger carefully, taking his lack of flinching as a positive sign. “There is no reason for it and there are a hundred. You contain multitudes and I love each and every one.”

“And,” Regulus added in a conspiring whisper. “You happen to not look half-bad.”

At last, a small laugh escaped Barty, though it sounded painfully choked. You nuzzled into the underside of his jaw with a sigh. “I realised I love you Barty when you had just made some awful move at me – I think you asked if I got a permission slip from Dumbledore to ‘burn the school down with my hotness’. And despite it being cheesy and silly, I liked it. I laughed. Because it was you.”

“‘S not awful,” Barty murmured then, looking at you with an incoming cheeky glint in his eye. “I was just speaking the truth.”

“And see, even now when I am being so sweet, you are silly, and yet I have no complaints.”

“Because you love me?” Barty asked carefully.

“So much.”

His eyes flickered over your face, settling for a moment on your smiling lips. You took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss him firmly – grounding him with your lips, pouring your love into him through the slow, careful movement.

You leaned your forehead against his as you pulled away and felt your heart settle when he returned the touch in full, weight lax at last. Regulus’ curls teased your nose as he kissed carefully along the back of Barty’s neck.

“Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement, mon chéri, tu dois le savoir.” Regulus whispered against Barty’s skin, and you saw how the latter melted into him at the words despite you having no idea what they meant – apart from the first ones. You had both heard enough je t'aime’s to sustain you for a lifetime, yet you always wanted more.

“No fair pulling out your French to make me feel loved, it’s literally a romantic language,” Barty complained half-heartedly, fooling nobody.

“What’s romantic is that you learned French for me,” Regulus mumbled against him with a knowing grin. “Another reason to love you.”

Barty scoffed. “I didn’t learn French for you, I learned it because of you. Couldn’t have you knowing a language I don’t.”

“Of course, that would just be abhorrent,” you teased, to which Barty just hummed in agreement, as if that was plain obvious.

“Multumesc, iubirile mele,” Barty whispered then.

“Had to one-up Reggie on the use of foreign languages in bed?” You lifted your eyebrow at him, but stroked along his cheekbone carefully in case it was too soon to joke.

“It’s not difficult, the sod only knows two.” Clearly not too soon to dish out jokes at least.

“Hey!” Regulus stage-whispered in faux offense, lightly nipping at the side of Barty’s neck. The squeal and subsequent giggle sealed the deal of cracking open his shell. “Here I am trying to take care of you, and what do I get for it.”

“Endless love and adoration.” Barty tipped his head back to kiss Regulus lightly on the lips, the latter humming against him. You snuck another one for yourself, feeling warmth spread to your fingertips.

“I said thank you,” Barty said then. “In romanian.”

“There is nothing to thank us for, B.” You kissed along his cheek, unable to hold back any of it now that you were sure he was conscious enough in his body to be okay with you touching him like this. Though he often reminds you he is always okay with that.

“Oh, Dragă, while I hate to tell a beautiful girl that she’s wrong; you’re absolutely wrong about that.” This time he chased your lips for a searing kiss. “There are endless things to thank you for.”

“Settle for another kiss?”

“Gladly.”

436 notes · View notes

heathermason6060 · 11 months ago

Text

Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings

Warnings: serial killer daryl, rough smut, inconsiderate smut, NO noncon, stalking, stealing, mentions of killing

Summary: Daryl can't decide if he wants to kill you, or fuck you. Switches between Daryl's and Readers POV.

Notes: SO SORRY ITS LONG This was really fun but really challenging to write, I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but that's hard when making him a serial killer lol! I'm making this a two pt, with the reader finding out in the next part.

Some days Daryl thought his luck might run out. He'd been lucky for too long. As far as he knew, no one suspected a thing. Every time he'd go out “hunting”, no matter how long he was gone for, he'd always managed to bring back something. Deer, rabbits, squirrels when prey was scarce.

It was easier now that the world had ended to keep it a secret. No threat of cops catching on, no more cameras on every street corner, no need to try to erase every possible trace.

The only thing he found to prove difficult had been finding a place to keep his trophies. He didn't really have a preference, hair, a tooth, or a piece of clothing, it was something he didn't understand the meaning of but something he did each time. He kept it in his room in the vent above his bed, behind a few boxes of books. The week prior he took it down to put the wedding ring of a man who tried attacking Rick out on their supply run, he’d had to restrain himself and keep the stabbing to a minimum because of Rick's presence.

He found himself growing uncomfortably interested in you. A revelation that he really, really didn't like. You were off limits, you were one of Rick's closest friends, you'd been there way too long. And you clearly hadn't done anything deserving of the things he daydreamed about doing to you, unlike the victims he’d killed before.

The more he tried to push those thoughts away, the stronger they came back. His hands around your throat, the way your eyes would tear up as you struggled against him and the fact someone you trusted so much was the one ending your life.

His eyes followed you over the flames of the campfire as you took your plates and went inside. Aaron had hosted a little get together in his yard in Alexandria, cooking dinner for everyone in celebration of the newest addition to the town. Some nobody he found out there on their own, who jumped at the idea of joining a large group of people.

If Daryl had to kill you, he’d keep a lock of your hair.

He couldn't stop staring at it as you went inside. His mind flooded with flashes of pictures of it, his hand in it, stroking your soft locks before grabbing a fistful and putting a knife to your throat. The way you'd squeal and beg, squirm against him as he presses the edge firmer into your skin.

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away after you disappeared in the house you shared with Maggie and a few others.

It was like you were practically begging him to follow you.

Five different times that week you'd gone out on your own to ‘clear your head’, whatever the hell that meant.

First time he heard Glenn mention to someone that you'd just gone out beyond the walls, he wanted to follow you. The idea was far too tempting. But he didn't, he knew damn well he couldn't trust himself with you all alone, no one to hear you scream.

The fantasies he had begun to form disgusted him. He didn't just go out and kill any random human he felt like, he had to have some sort of rules or else things would get out of hand real fast. If he were to get caught, it needed to be someone Rick wouldn't think twice about him killing. Some raider, or any kind of piece of shit who'd be a threat to their group. He needed to have a fallback, worst case scenario one of Alexandria caught him.

Second rule, none of his people. Ever. His morals were questionable, if he had it his way he'd go out and hunt down any human he came across outside those walls.

But never his people. In a hypocritical way he did care about them, in the same way that any normal sane human being would care about their family. He could never even dream about hurting any of them, he’d rather die. But they had to earn that place in his heart.

It was a wonder you hadn't been killed by anyone else yet. The way you walked through the woods with your light pink sweater, leaving tracks in the leaves that a blind man could follow, and that fucking humming. He could easily track you with his eyes closed for miles with the way you kept humming.

You'd gone into an old shack in the backyard of an abandoned trailer.

A part of him felt angry then, how were you so stupid? If it had been someone else following you, and not Daryl, who knows what they'd do to you? And you'd have no idea until it was too late.

He paused at the thought. If he wasn't careful, that's exactly what would happen.

He followed you home about half a mile behind the entire time. When you were at the road that led to the gates he turned back, deciding it was the perfect time to go hunting.

The crossbow on his back weighed heavier than it normally did as he slunk down into the underbrush at the forest's edge. He hadn't decided on what animal yet, but the frustration and confusion alone caused by you made it pretty easy to guess.

He wiped the blood from the molar before he tucked it in the box in his vent, and decided to pay Maggie and Glenn a visit.

The house was completely empty, so he let his curiosity get the better of him.

Your room was pretty.

Your bed, a whopping full size mattress, made his pull out look like a military cot. You had an array of paintings on your walls, he remembered some of them. As soon as you got your own room in Alexandria you went out on runs with Glenn and Maggie just so you could decorate it.

His eyes went from painting to painting, then to your dresser. You kept it unexpectedly neat for someone who behaved so sloppily in the woods. Your journal, a small glass box you kept your sentimental jewelry in, a few makeup products. What drew his attention was the jewelry box, he could see the pair of pearl earrings you used to constantly wear. You never took them out back then, not even to sleep.

Orange bled into a dark purple against his face and he blinked, coming back to himself in front of your bedroom window. A strange confusion twisted in his gut when he realized he'd just been standing there, staring out your window for so long the sun had set.

You weren't stupid, or blind.

You'd have to be a fool to not notice the way Daryl had been taking interest in you.

There'd been several times in Alexandria where you'd be busy doing something, turn around and see him standing off in the distance, staring at you like fuckin’ Michael Myers.

If you'd go on runs and he came with you, you'd often glance at him to see him already looking. He'd always look away, pull out a cigarette and act like he wasn't just burning holes in the back of your head.

You'd come to the obvious conclusion that he had a crush on you.

What else could it be? You'd always thought he was really hot, men like that were hard to come by. Quiet, observant, strong as hell, he’d do anything for the people he loved and he wasn't an annoying pervert who'd suddenly turn into an asshole if you rejected him. Not that you'd ever reject him.

Each time you caught him staring your heart would race and you'd try to give a friendly smile, but apparently he was too shy for that. Which sucked, because of all the men you could have the hots for, Daryl was the most unapproachable and intimidating.

“Hey, have you guys seen an earring laying around anywhere?” You asked at dinner, glancing around the table. Carol had invited the inner group over for dinner, she'd made pasta and cookies.

You could never get enough of Carol's cookies.

“What's it look like?” Maggie asked beside Glenn, the two of them looking at you thoughtfully from across the table.

“Just a pearl earring. The one's I always used to wear.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, looking at the other faces to see if any of them had a split second look of recognition.

“Not that I can remember.” Glenn cleared his throat and shook his head after swallowing a heavy mouthful of alfredo pasta.

“I'll keep an eye out for it.” Rick tipped his head to you, nodding slightly before continuing eating. You smiled in return, knowing if anyone was likely to find it, it’d be him.

He'd grown very fond of you recently, the image of you had shifted in his head from another person he was responsible for, to a dear friend he could trust with his life. Mostly due to the way you were with Carl, always doing your best to be a figure of comfort to him. Not as close as he'd grown to Michonne, but more of a young aunt who takes too much interest in art and jewelry.

“I haven't seen you wear those in a while.” Carl spoke up.

You sighed when no one had any leads. “Yeah, I know. Just been worried about losing them, they're pretty important.” You took the last bite of your cookie, dusting your hands together before speaking again. “It's really weird, they were both in my jewelry box last time I checked, but this morning there was only one.”

“You think someone stole one?” Carol's voice held a tight tone of suspicion, her eyes narrowing so slightly you could've missed it if you blinked.

“No, I mean, no one goes in our house besides you all. And I know none of you care about a single earring.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek in deep thought.

You felt that familiar sensation of warmth on your cheek, like someone had a hot iron near you.

You turned your head to your left, met with Daryl's eyes from his spot at the end of the other side of the table.

To your surprise he didn't look away like he usually did. He kept his gaze steady, his elbows propped on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth.

You didn't feel butterflies like usual, and your cheeks burned for a different reason. For the first time you were the one to look away.

Rick had put together a group to scout out further into town for more resources. The usual suspects, Aaron, Sasha, Rosita, Abraham, Daryl and of course, you.

He hadn't made up his mind on if he was glad or not. He'd been stupid, feeding the sparks of his mild obsession, and that pretty little pearl earring he kept in his jeans pocket felt like twenty pounds of red-hot metal.

They'd set up camp for the night in the woods right on the outskirts of town. Abraham had set up mediocre sound traps around the small clearing, and Daryl couldn't help but snort when you walked right into one and the cans failed to clash together.

Fire was a dumb idea too.

Daryl had started to remember why he preferred being alone. Aaron was too used to the safety of the Alexandria walls.

Abraham told him he'd better put it out after dark, also throwing in a passive aggressive insult, and Aaron stuttered out an agreement.

It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes off you. He sat across the fire from you, watching you smile and laugh and joke with Rosita like you were two young girls in summer camp.

As the flames of his fixation on you grew, so did his confliction.

He had no problems with you. He'd barely even paid attention to you before you'd arrived at Alexandria, you were just another background character in his story that wouldn't make a difference if you died or not. But you'd grown close to Rick and Maggie, two people he cared about. So by extension, he cared about you too.

He wasn't sure when it started. It kind of just happened over time.

He was always an outside observer, keeping details of each person he knew on a list in his mind.

But you, he couldn't think of any reason you'd be so special. It was obvious you were smoking hot, he wasn't blind. But he'd seen his share of beautiful women. Maybe it was the fact you seemed to always have luck on your side, you could go out singing in the woods and never run into any trouble.

If the two of you weren't careful, that luck might change tonight.

Abraham and Aaron were busy looking at a map of the town and figuring out what pathing they'd take in the morning. Sasha and Rosita were sitting on their bedrolls cleaning their guns and talking about meaningless things, he didn't care enough to listen.

You were the odd man out. Just like him.

Sitting in the dirt on the other side of the fire, fidgeting with a stick in front of you while you thought.

He could tell you knew he was staring at you again. And judging by the way you were forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the stick you were drawing circles in the dirt with, you were trying your best not to look up.

He didn't expect you to look up. He almost let the confusion show on his face, caught off guard by his incorrect prediction. He saw the way your cheeks flushed even though the light of the fire made your face glow orange. He flared his nostrils at the sight, why'd you have to make it so damn hard?

His heart dropped when you suddenly stood and walked off into the woods.

No one had even noticed, too wrapped up in their conversations. Another thing that succeeded in his self restraint slipping away.

Daryl followed after counting three minutes in his head. He'd really hoped you'd come back before then, praying you'd be lucky enough to slip back through the trees before he got to his feet.

It was dark in the woods away from the campfire.

He could hear you a few yards ahead, your boots crunching lightly on leaves despite your attempts at being quiet.

He kept his distance, just following the sounds of your footsteps and the slight silhouette of your body, the moonlight seeping through the treetops barely grazing your hair and shoulders.

This was way too natural to him.

Now out here you were just like any other victim, but it brought him comfort knowing there'd be no way he could hurt you and get away with it. The two of you disappear off into the woods at night and only Daryl comes back? He might think the people around the fire made stupid decisions sometimes, but they weren't stupid enough to not be suspicious of him.

Maybe he could say walkers got you.

He clenched his jaw when he realized he was at such a desperate point that an idea that stupid even crossed his mind.

“Daryl?”

The sound of your sweet voice made him physically recoil, his hand falling from the knife in his belt that he didn't realize he'd been gripping.

He could barely make out your figure in front of him. You were facing him, maybe six feet away, standing underneath a large pine tree.

There was no use in hiding. Your eyes would've adjusted enough by now to see the shape of him.

Finally, he answered, his voice coming out in more of a growl than a human speaking. “Shouldn't be out here alone.”

There was silence before you filled it with the crunching of your footsteps moving towards him.

His body tensed as you drew closer, now able to make out the pretty features of your face. An image of you flashed in his head, blood running down your nose and lips, tears in your eyes, your fingernails raking down his wrist.

“I just needed a minute to clear my head.” You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you weren't out in the dead of night stomping around loud enough for any walkers within a five mile radius to hear.

Daryl said nothing, his eyes fixed on your face as you slowly crept near. Although he hated not being able to read your expressions, he was thankful for it, because he was hanging on by a thread and if you even showed the slightest hint of fear, he'd snap. He wouldn't be able to resist if your lips trembled, or if your eyes widened and you stuttered a single apprehensive syllable.

But as his eyes adjusted even further, his mouth ran dry and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. That would've been less of a stun than the look you were giving him, standing only a few inches away from him.

Your plan had worked. You'd been plotting it ever since Rick paired you up in that group, the silent attention Daryl had been giving you ended up driving you mad. You found it absurd that all it took was a few stares to make you feel like he was some A list celebrity giving you special treatment.

Maybe it was a little stupid the way you went about it, but the curiosity eating you up inside didn't have you thinking straight. Walking off into the woods was one thing, but at night? In woods so thick you could barely see your hand outstretched in front of you? Blindly trekking through the leaves in the mere hope that he'd follow you and make a move?

You hadn't had sex in way too long.

Yeah, that was it.

That's why you were making the decisions of a dumb bitch in a horror movie. But at least it was Daryl you were after, you knew you'd be fine if you ran into trouble.

You thought you'd be fine.

Emboldened by the darkness and privacy you'd secured for yourself, you approached him. Your heart hammered against your chest, and you had to bite your lip to keep from panicking, the fear of rejection or a humiliating scolding almost made you change your mind.

Your eyes strained in the dark to make out the features of his face.

He looked almost expressionless, but there was something in his eyes, something that had your steady breathing turning into shuddering breaths coming from your mouth. His gaze looked like a textbook example of ‘dark’. Your heart felt like it was literally about to explode, and when you saw his upper lip barely twitch, you let out an accidental sigh, too exhilarated to feel embarrassed with yourself.

He was right in front of you then. You'd crossed every single inch of ground that separated you, and you could smell his signature scent of cigarettes, smoke, those spicy little mint leaves he'd chew on for his oral fixation. There was a hint of male musk as well, just barely there after a day walking outside in the woods.

You could see his chest rising and falling more dramatically now.

He was still dead silent, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you looked over every inch of him. You'd been biting your lip so hard it started to ache, and so you released it, your mouth opening to speak, you yourself unaware of what you planned to say.

The sound of Abraham’s whistle signal breaking through the thick silence had you feeling like you fell out of a plane. You sucked in a gasp and pulled your hand back from where it hung inches away from Daryl's chest.

Daryl's posture snapped into something so different it gave you whiplash. He was Daryl Dixon again, the sight so drastic you couldn't help but feel unnerved.

He whistled back before looking at you once more. It was still too dark to tell if he looked relieved or disappointed. “C'mon.”

Keeping his distance from people had never been a problem for Daryl. But what you did that night had permanently altered something inside him.

He didn't know if he wanted to fuck you or kill you. Maybe both.

You became his new favorite pastime.

When everyone fell asleep that night, he sat with his back against the same tree he'd been sitting under for hours, his eyes keeping their unwavering stance on your sleeping form. All the while he imagined hundreds of different things to do to you.

His mind kept going between strangling the life out of you, watching it bleed from your eyes. Or the other one, the image where he was burying his face between your legs with his tongue and teeth sucking and nipping, licking till it became too much and you begged him to stop.

He carefully planned out his next encounter with you over the course of days. He acted it out the night of a “party” at Aaron and Eric’s house, so focused on his plan he didn't even know what they were having a party for.

Daryl didn't care if you caught him staring anymore. That night in the woods he could practically smell how bad you wanted it, it didn't matter to him anymore if he disregarded all basic manners.

The last time there was a party in Alexandria was when Rick's group joined. Daryl hadn't gone to that one, the feeling of being an outdoor cat watching indoor cats eating their fancy wet food too much for him.

But he'd do anything to continue this little game with you. It was new, and there were no rules.

For the most part he was his usual self, sticking to the side and keeping enough casual conversation to blend in. The perfect balance between himself, and the part of him that imagined in great detail all the sounds you'd make.

He took a sip of the beer Aaron forced in his hands, his eyes looking back to you.

You looked like a fresh cut of meat just waiting for him to sink his teeth into.

The dress you wore hugged every single piece of your body, fitting you in a way that was almost poetic, but it was modest enough that it didn't draw unwanted attention. You were beside Rick most of the night, happily chatting and drinking champagne in a way that oozed confidence.

Every now and then you'd look at him, and he'd savor all the details of the way your confidence faded into something he didn't have a word for. You looked nervous, but hungry, like someone reaching out a hesitant hand to stroke the pelt of a tamed predator.

Daryl wanted to bite that hand, hold it in his harsh jaws while your other one stroked his fur.

You played your part well, after most of the formal greetings and casual conversation had been taken care of you slipped out the back door.

He counted three minutes in his head before making his exit, which was stopped by Carol.

“Leaving already, huh?” She gave him a knowing smirk, unaware that her assumption he was just bored was incorrect. He'd never been more entertained.

“Yeah, shit ain't for me anyway.” He played along with a nonchalant shrug, pulling a lone cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Done enough already just by comin’.”

Carol nodded, that smirk still on her face as she looked at the people standing around making friendly conversation. “Don't get into any trouble. Don't wanna help you hide bodies again.”

Daryl snorted, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. If there was anyone he'd come to for help hiding bodies it definitely would've been her. “Yeah yeah. Night Carol.” He gave her a pat on her shoulder before turning sideways to fit through the cracked door.

He hadn't expected you to be so good at this. He'd been prepared to walk down the steps of the porch and see you standing down the sidewalk, waiting for him like he was your prom date.

You weren't too good, though. He found you rather easily. The bottom of your heels left slight little indents in the dirt, leading between the houses, down the street, and right up to the sidewalk in front of your house.

His heart rate sped up a little when he remembered that house was completely empty, all but you.

Or so he thought.

You weren't anywhere to be seen. He checked every room, growing increasingly irritated when each one turned up nothing. He was about to give up and just head home when he checked your room one last time.

Something caught his eye, a blade of grass, his eyes followed the bits of grass to see those black heels sitting under your dresser, taking the place of your boots.

You tried to keep from anxiously picking at your fingernails as you stood behind the thick underbrush at the woodline, watching for any sign of movement along the outside walls.

There was a spot at the back wall near a platform no one really watched anymore, which is where the both of you had gone to leave without being seen.

You were beginning to think maybe you'd read him wrong. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered that look he gave you at the party, it was impossible to describe. He was lacking any sort of expression, but in his eyes held this darkness that made swallowing your champagne hard when you'd seen it. The way he leaned against the wall near a group of people, his eyes steady and fixed on you, you could only decipher that as a look of craving for something he'd been wanting for a long time.

If you hadn't been looking at the Alexandrian walls, you would've missed it. For a split second you saw a flash of dark clothing, even darker hair, and you darted from your position behind the thickets.

Thankfully it wasn't as dark as that one night.

The sun had dipped down below the trees and out of sight, but it left just enough light for the sky to be a dark blue. The full moon made it even brighter, and soon you were in one of the houses right outside Alexandria.

You stood in the living room and waited. You'd already checked the house for walkers before this, not keen on the idea of a growling monstrosity of green and purple flesh ruining whatever might happen there when Daryl arrived.

If he arrived.

You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't coming. The heavy front door was open just a few inches, you'd wanted to be able to see him approach the house, to take him by surprise, maybe giving him the same fright he'd given you countless times.

Suddenly, the air grew heavy. You felt that feeling again, like you were in danger, the feeling you might get being stalked by a large cat.

There was a breeze behind you, and you recognized it as a draft from the back window being opened.

Although it was happening behind you, your mind raced as you played out the scene. His hands bracing against the walls on either side of the window, his first leg dipping over like a spider emerging from its tunnel.

The tap of a boot meeting the wood floor under the window, so light and careful you almost didn't hear it. A second foot, he was in the house, only across the room from you. You held your breath as the footsteps drew near, slow, deliberate, you could tell just by the timing of his steps he was approaching you like a leopard closing in on a wounded deer. Confident, patient, nearly sadistic.

The feeling of his breath on your bare shoulder sent chills through your body and goosebumps down your arms. It was cold and barely there, you felt like if you turned around you'd be met with an empty house.

His fingers were just as light as his breath, tracing the thin dress strap over your shoulder, down and to the middle of your spine.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Daryl could be this confident in this way. He acted like every antagonist in a romance novel, dark and self-assured with every move he made.

You felt yourself relaxing as you leaned your back against his chest, feeling the leather of his vest on your skin, as well as the buttons on his black shirt.

The feeling of his hand snaking over your shoulder and up to your neck succeeded in sending every last drop of blood in your body down between your legs. You were fully prepared for the best slow, deep, mind-blowing sex of your life, but that quickly changed when his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

It wasn't a firm and sexy squeeze, it was a ‘wait that's actually way too tight’ squeeze.

Your eyes shot back open but you tried to keep your cool, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab at his wrist.

Apparently, Daryl didn't like that.

He suddenly had your back pressed against the wall of the living room with movements so quick and precise it made your head spin. You looked up at his face, lit with a dim blue light from the windows, searching for any signs that would be cause for panic.

He decided to give you that reason you were looking for, and wrapped his hand around your neck again.

For once, Daryl wasn't fighting some internal battle on if he should kill you or not.

He'd made the decision as soon as he crept in the window and saw you standing in the living room, facing the front door and biting at your nails.

That decision wasn't final, though, you had the power in your hands to change his mind.

Hopefully you'd be as lucky as you always were.

He looked down at your face as he kept his one handed grip on your throat, burning the image in his mind. Your eyes were wide and full of this otherworldly beautiful fear, so much uncertainty it made his already hard cock twitch.

Your hands were still on his wrist, as if it gave you some sort of control, something he found endearing. You still trusted him, you still thought you had a chance to regain the control you thought you had this whole time.

“This what you wanted?” He breathed, looking from your eyes to your lips. Your face had turned a shade darker from his grip, your lips turning a pretty hue of red. “Wanted me to hunt you down, and then what? Huh?”

He watched for your reaction, waiting to see how you'd play the hand you'd been dealt, and to his pleasant surprise you managed to nod.

Daryl's hand loosened just enough to send the blood back to your head and you sucked in a deep breath, before letting out a trembling whimper.

His lips twitched into a soft smirk, and he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. You kissed him hungrily, swallowing the growl from his throat as your bare knee pressed against the aching bulge in his jeans. You moved it in firm circles, and he decided that earned a returned gesture.

He used his knee to roughly spread your thighs before giving you the same treatment. The whine that drew from your lips, and the way your eyes rolled back in your head, had him letting out a deep groan. He ground his knee up between your legs, long enough to feel the wetness seeping from your panties and through his jeans.

You didn't get a chance to tell him about the bed you'd cleaned upstairs for this. Which was unfortunate, given you'd gone out of your way to do so, not that he would've cared anyway.

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, fingers finding the zipper of your dress and unceremoniously pulling it down to your ass. Your heavy breathing fueled his desire and he grabbed a fistful of your hair before yanking your dress down with his other hand so fast it burned.

With the grip he had in your hair he forcefully guided you onto the floor, releasing you only to settle between your thighs and slide his hands up your bare chest to his favorite part of you.

You got that look on your face again. Lust blown pupils, breathing softly through your mouth. You still hadn't figured it out yet, that you could very easily be in danger.

This time he used both hands.

A yelp got choked from your throat as he squeezed, allowing himself a few seconds to please himself. The white of your eyes turned a light pink at the edges, a few beads of tears forming there as well, the sight making his dick throb.

He released your neck and you gasped, sucking down lungfuls of air as your head spun. You felt like you were on a carousel the way you got so dizzy.

While you regained your bearings he unbuckled his belt and took out his dick, his right hand wasting no time in giving himself relief. You took the opportunity to slide off your panties, and when he saw the glistening of your wet folds in the deep blue lighting he growled. The sinful sound earned a whimper from you, and he refocused on your face to see a pitiful look of impatience.

Daryl switched to stroking himself with his left hand, and guided the tip up through your slick folds. He savored the way you looked then, biting your bottom lip as you prepared yourself.

Instead of giving the satisfaction he pulled his tip back and carried on fucking his hand. As soon as your eyes opened and you went to protest, his free hand went right back to your neck.

He loved the way you looked then, desperate and pathetic, so full of frustration it leaked out through tears in your eyes. He squeezed hard, completely cutting off blood and air to your brain, tugging his dick faster as you squirmed.

Daryl lifted up his knee to pin one of your thighs to the floor in an effort to keep you still. He took his hand away from his cock and spit in his palm, wasting no time in getting back to touching himself.

He could've easily come right there. If he wanted to, he could keep squeezing just a few more moments, and your squirming would've stopped. He could spill his load on your stomach and effortlessly slip into his cleanup routine, but aside from the fact that part of him didn't really want to kill you, the way you orgasmed had him fucking frozen.

He hadn't even touched you, but you came.

Your eyebrows scrunched together and the leg he didn't have pinned down wrapped around his waist, your hips rolling in a desperate attempt to get friction against your clit. He relaxed his hand from your throat and you let out this bubbly whimpering sound that made his hips instinctively jerk forward.

Daryl watched you, holding his breath without realizing it. She just came from you chokin’ her. The words repeated over and over in his mind as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.

He had to snatch his hand away from his dick to keep his own orgasm at bay. Not yet, not a chance in hell, not after you just did that. You deserved something for showing him the hottest thing he never would've thought possible.

His body went on autopilot. He slid down from your body, planting kisses in a trail from your neck to your naval, down to your thighs, then back up again. He buried his face between your legs, not giving you a moment's notice or time to recover. He swirled his tongue around your clit, grazing his teeth against it before sucking it between his lips.

You bucked against him like a wild horse, the stimulation so much your body didn't know how to react. It was desperate, finally getting some stimulation, but you'd just had a world shattering orgasm only seconds before. He wrapped his arms under your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth again, his grip tight to keep you from squirming away again.

The only control you had was your ability to choose what to do with your hands. Your fingers wrapped around clumps of his hair, winding up so tight it made his scalp burn.

He growled in response and took your clit between his teeth, holding it there as a stern warning, only letting it go when you stopped pulling so damn hard.

If he had the power to freeze time for everything but the two of you, he would've eaten your pussy for hours. But he settled on just long enough to pull another orgasm from you, sliding the tip of his tongue from your throbbing clit to the new trail of slick cum dripping out of you.

Daryl didn't give you time to recover from that one either. As soon as your cry faded out he flipped you on your back, ignoring the yelp of protest you made when your hip bones dug into the hard floor beneath you.

The only warning he gave you before shoving his cock into you was a quick slide of his swollen tip between your puffy folds. Just right enough to lubricate the head, and then he drove it in.

The way you groaned in pain from the stretch almost made him cum right there. He stilled inside you, not for you to adjust but for him to fall back away from the edge. The benefit to you was just lucky.

“Fuck.” It was the first time in a while that he'd spoken, and it was solely due to the way your hot plush walls squeezed his dick like a fist.

He should've known you'd feel like that, he hadn't seen you with a man the entire time he'd known you. His chest shuddered with his ragged breaths, and once he was ready he put both hands flat on your upper back. He put his weight there, keeping him upright so he could lift his hips and fuck his dick into you with all his weight.

Your arms slid out in front of you, your hands grasping for something, anything, you needed something to hold onto.

He wouldn't grant you that kindness either. He rested his knees back on the floor on either side of your thighs and grabbed your arms, bending them painfully behind you. When he held your wrists together at the base of your spine he started fucking you again.

Each rough snap of his hips drove a whiney moan from you. He liked that a lot, it sounded similar to a different type of crying, and he slowed down to keep his dick from getting friction burns. While you used the opportunity to squirm under him in an attempt to get more comfortable he spit on his fingers, letting it drip onto the base of his cock before changing positions once again.

He moved your arms up over your head and laid down on top of you, the weight of him pressing down on your back pushing all the air from your lungs.

Your check rubbed against the floor as he started thrusting again, this time settling on a new pace, rough and fast despite the fact he barely drew his dick out. If he wasnt fucking you so roughly, the feeling of his head resting against yours would’ve given you butterflies. You became acutely aware of the closeness, there wasn't an inch of space between your bodies, and every grunt and groan he made had his lips brushing up against the side of your ear.

He used his hips to grind his dick inside you, the new motion drawing filthy gasps and whines from you from the way his tip seemed to roll and dig into each and every crevice inside you. You'd never felt anything like that before, so used to the normal thrusting. He only pulled back about an inch, rolling his hips in a way that had you shamelessly moaning.

Daryl moved your hair from the back of your neck, pushing it up and away before leaning down to dig his teeth into the skin right at the base of your neck. He bit hard, something you didn't expect, and you cried out in pain, your body jerking under him.

It was hard for you to breathe with his full weight on your back. The heat of his body gave you uncomfortable hot flashes, adding to the sweat you'd already made. Your hair stuck to your forehead and you made an attempt to push it off, which was made difficult when he changed paces once again.

He started drawing out further now, but he'd just drive back in harder, faster, causing your body to grind roughly against the wood floor. The skin over your hip bones started to burn as well as your nipples, something you found almost agonizing but shamefully pleasurable at the same time.

He fucked you like that until you came for the third time, now around his dick. He pushed himself off your back and used his hands on your shoulders to keep you pinned down, watching as he breathed through his mouth at the way his cock disappeared inside you.

You were lucky he felt like a new position.

He waited until you stopped writhing under him from your orgasm before grabbing your thigh to turn you on your back.

Relief washed over you as the pain in your hip bones faded, only to have that relief taken from you when he grabbed your waist and yanked you up and off the floor.

Your feet didn't even touch the ground, your body swaying as you tried to get a sense of gravity, Daryl's hands tight on your sides as he took you to the couch.

All you could do at that point was relax and let him move your body for you, your hands shaking against your chest as he sat you on the arm of the couch. You let him push you down on your back, your ass and legs dangling over the arm for a few dizzying seconds before he grabbed your legs and held them around his waist.

Daryl pushed his dick back in your abused pussy and groaned, gripping your thighs tighter so he could pull you closer to him.

Your back arched almost uncomfortably, your hips angled up against his pelvis, the only part of your back that touched the cushions of the couch ended up being your shoulders. You were thankful you could at least breathe now.

Daryl was skilled at taking small bits of relief like that away.

He leaned down and bit your already sore nipple so hard and so suddenly you nearly shouted. Your hands instinctively went to grab his hair for support, but he leaned back and your fingers fell from his face.

He was proud of the new angle. Your pelvis tilted up and him fucking down into you sent him as deep as possible, and soon he began fucking you rough enough that it bordered closely on too painful.

Lucky for you, you liked it. Your walls burned pleasurably from the dragging of his dick, and he started speaking again.

“Look at you, dirty little whore.” He teased as he looked down at your abused body with a grin. Your nipples and hips were red from him fucking you into the floor, your neck equally as red from the force of his hands.

Your sweet, sweet pretty face, twisted up in a mix of pleasure and pain, your cheeks red, your lips swollen, streaks of black makeup running down your face. The sight made him seriously consider picking up drawing, because that look was, without a doubt, the best thing he'd seen in his entire life.

“Daryl,” You finally plucked the courage to speak to him and he raised a brow, impressed, he'd gotten used to you taking it so well without any complaints. “Too much.” Your voice broke as you whined, another orgasm bringing you to shambles.

He snorted as he watched you come around his dick yet again, your words asking for mercy but your body clearly asking him otherwise.

“You can take a little more, yeah?” Even he was becoming spent, his heart banging in his chest so hard he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his hands down your sweaty chest to your breasts, his dick twitching inside you at the way you cried when he pinched that same sore nipple.

“I don't know,” Another wave of shivers overcame you, eliciting exhausted, long and shaky whines. Your body couldn't process going a little under two years with little to no sexual activity, and then suddenly being mind numbingly overstimulated with the most exhilarating sex you'd ever had in your life. Each time you thought you'd gotten used to it he'd pull the rug out from under you, either by causing pain or giving you more pleasure that you knew what to do with.

As if on cue you felt his flattened hand smack the side of your face, demanding your focus. Your eyes struggled to find him, your vision fuzzy and wobbly, but when you looked up and saw him your heart fluttered.

“Look at me. C'mon.” He didn't want you passing out on him, that took all the fun away.

Despite the obvious fact he had a clear disregard for your comfort or discomfort, the way he was looking down at you sent butterflies through your stomach and chest. His pupils were so blown with lust that you couldn't see the pretty color of his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy with the approach of his orgasm. His lips, glistening from the way his tongue had darted out to wet them, parted as he huffed in ragged breaths.

You could tell if he had a picture of you like this, he'd be reacting the same way with just his hand. The thought had a moan bubbling past your lips.

“C'mon.” His hips snapped forward roughly, jerking in a break from his steady aggressive rhythm. You cried out from that, your hands finding the sides of his dangling belt to grab onto like the reins of a horse.

He'd held back his orgasm as long as he could, but the sight of you shaking and trembling under him, exhausted and overstimulated, he couldn't last much longer. Your face twisted in discomfort as he fucked you faster again, your hips suddenly doing their best to wiggle up and away from the frenzy of his dick.

You'd managed to get a few short moments of relief, sliding backwards until his dick nearly slid out.

His upper lip curled in disbelief, and he shook his head, scoffing at you. “Don't be a baby, you can take it.” You were yanked back down on his dick, the sensation of being forced back into overstimulation had you moaning in distress.

You nodded your head feverishly, setting your jaw as you looked up at the ceiling, trying your best to keep it together. But each time his hips would ram into yours it made his crotch slam against your clit, and it got too much, your breathing sped up as the panic of overstimulation set in. You really tried then, actually tried to wiggle away, and to your surprise, and much needed relief, he stilled his hips.

You were expecting him to maybe find a better way to restrain you, or put you in a position you couldn't move from, but he just used the moment to catch his breath before his demeanor changed completely.

“Hey, hey, shh.” The sweetness in his tone made you whimper, your eyes falling closed as he comforted you. It felt so fucking good, you found yourself willing to do anything and everything to feel that tenderness some more. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” He cooed as your breathing slowed and your fingers stopped shaking.

Daryl released your thighs and with unexpected ease, he slipped his hands under the arch in your back, picking you up and moving so he could sit down on the couch, keeping you stuck on his cock the entire time.

The new position of being on top sent a fresh wave of pleasure flipping in the bottom of your stomach, the tip of his dick pressed right at the end of your walls.

It wasn't painful like you'd felt before when your cervix was accidentally hit too hard, quite the opposite, the feeling of pressure was so strangely good you found yourself pushing down with all your weight, desperate to feel more.

Daryl tossed his head back with a grunt at the feeling, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. His hands took their place on your hips, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin there.

He'd only switched to this position because his legs were getting unsteady, but the way you looked above him was something he didn't expect to enjoy as much as he did.

He took a second to catch his breath before he planted his boots firmly on the floor, pressing his back against the couch, and when he was perfectly leveraged he used his hands to keep your waist hovering above him, using the angle to fuck his dick up into you so hard you immediately came again.

The way you came for the fourth time made his jaw drop.

He watched you through heavy lidded eyes, taking in every second of it as he breathed through his open mouth. The way your face tensed up in twisted concentration, and then the way it dropped as you fell apart, your mouth falling open with a guttural moan that put every single goddamn porn video he'd seen to shame. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your mouth hung open in such a beautiful ‘O’, he broke.

He let go of your waist so your full weight would slam down on his cock and he came, his head tilted back against the couch, his dark hair falling away from his face.

You watched his face the same way he'd watched yours, rolling your hips down against him as you drew out every wave of the strongest orgasm you'd ever had. He looked fucking beautiful. You'd do everything in your power to get him like this again, but this time with your camera.

His orgasm literally shook him. He clenched the skin over your hips in a tight grip, using it to keep you as tight as possible against him. In those few seconds his mind went blank, almost devolving him into an animal. Those instincts wanted to keep you there on top of him, so he did, rolling his pelvis to fuck his cum deeper into you.

Daryl held you there until way after he came down from his high, only releasing his grip on your skin when he felt his dick grow soft.

You couldn't move off him if you tried. Your legs felt like you'd lost all muscle mass, same with your arms. Your body slumped forward and you fell against his chest, your nipples burning as they rubbed against his shirt and vest.

His arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing your body tight against his, his hips giving a few last weak rolls up against you.

It took you both a while to catch your breath, the mouth breathing leaving the two of you uncomfortably thirsty.

He made the first move when he realized you couldn't, and he slid your body off of his into the seat beside him. He sat there for a few more seconds before he carefully put his tender dick back in his pants.

His belt buckle clinked noisily as he fastened it, his fingers shaky and inaccurate. He watched as you slowly rose to your feet and grabbed your panties, the rising and falling of his chest gradually slowing.

The sight of you struggling to climb into your dress had him feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. He chewed on the skin around his thumb, watching you slip your feet into your boots before you leaned against the wall next to the front door.

You looked at it and faltered, realizing that the two of you had been pretty loud. When you looked back to him with a concerned expression you were just met with an uncaring smirk, the man now on his feet and wiping the sweat from his face with the top of his shirt. He grabbed his crossbow from the floor and flung it over his shoulder before leading you back home.

@ophelialaufey

620 notes · View notes

notyournecromancer · 4 months ago

Note

I totally adore you and have always loved everything you’ve recommended on any platform. I’ve only read marauders fics though and not sure anything can top Jegulus and Wolfstar for me. But I’m curious what the Drarry fuss is about. Do you have any advice on where to start? Something to get me into the characters everyone loves, like Blaise, Theo etc. And then I’ll go down the AFTG and Raven Boys rabbit holes! And probably never sleep again. Or be productive. Etc. But I’ll be happy.

SWEET SUFFERING JESUS i cannot TELL YOU how happy this makes me. DRARRY RECS INCOMING BELOVED!

first and foremost, i simply must tell you of the journey that is Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming which is the most GLORIOUS wolfstar - hear me out, the sequel to this is a Drarry, called Pages of You . These are by the most wonderful writer @wolfpants - I won't embarrass them by emotionally leaking all over the internet but fucking hear me out, babe, you're gonna wanna read every drop of Drarry they have to offer. While you're having a stalk, go and check out Terrible People and Everybody Hates a Tourist.

Next up, another favourite of mine: Draco Malfoy and The Mirror of Ecidyrue. this badboy is good if you fancy a canon retelling with some fantastic twists and fixes thrown in. each year gets better than the last and I think its such an interesting take on the whole thing.

Alright, another FABULOUS one with such a good little twist: Way Down We Go by @xiaq - a phenomenal writer whose original works you should also absolutely check out. This fic actually has Harry as a Werewolf which I absolutely convinced myself was a plot twist until I later went back and read the tags and realised it was there the whole time. LOVE this one. so good. side note - the supporting cast? unrivalled.

Okay here we have What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym. this was lovely - I thought the characterisations were really spot on for canon adjacent/continuation. adored this.

Now for something a touch more whimsical, may I present you something unlike anything else I've ever read ever in life? It's called Running on Air by Eleventy7 (they are on tumblr I believe but for the life of me I cannot find their @) anyway. this is just the most stunning thing. it sort of plays out like a movie in front of you while you read it. its gentle and clever and thoughtful and intricate and just one of the most creative stories I've ever crossed paths with. i challenge you not to fall in love.

Here we have Is This The Place by the most gorgeous writer @januaryfirstreads - I promise you you aren't going to find someone who loves drarry like this writer does. and its so clear in every word she writes. This one of her's is lovely, so soft and full of the love of these characters, it does them justice in the most beautiful way.

Alright, if you know wolfstar you probably know @brigid-faye - and if you don't, all you need to know is that I trust brigid with my life. one thing about brigid? these characters are gonna be treated so well its gonna be hard to let go of 'em. here's a drarry brigid wrote a while back, its all the things her writing always has. which is to say, nothing you wanna miss. It's called Breeze (Move Me).

Okay, if you're a Red White and Royal Blue fan, the one and only itsgivingcamp has a FABULOUS ONE which you can find here: it's called Red, Green and Toil Too . now, I may perhaps be biased, but I happen to prefer this to the original. but like I said, maybe biased. but also, correct.

Alright, some classics. I may have read some of these or started them/downloaded them but I fear I've rambled on long enough. so here's the failsafe drarry recs to lead you down the right track:

Dwelling by Aideomai

The Devil's White Knight by Orphan_Account

Harry Potter and the Welcome to the World of Grey by sobsicles

Chasing Dragons by The_Sinking_Ship

and lastly i'm going to do the cheekiest of little self recs. i have a multi chap drarry that will one day be finished called Cold Coffee and a banter-driven little Christmas-themed one-shot named The Weather Outside.

anyway, there are so many bloody more. drarry is the most wonderful thing. its also (in my opinion) so disgracefully canon that it's hard to escape once you get into it. (like hello? the train scene?) so I wish you the best of luck on this journey.

you just come and give me a shout when you're ready to yell about AFTG and The Raven Cycle. I am here ready & waiting!

love you bye xoxoxoxo

#drarry #drarry recs #drarry fic #draco x harry #harry x draco #i fear i took this too seriously and ran with it #you should have seen the excitement that washed over me #i was embarrassingly pleased to get down to drarry town here #god i love this fandom and the writers in it #anyway #lanas crying again #drarry is canon and i'll hear nothing against that

176 notes · View notes

sirbonesly · 4 months ago

Text

FTM!Reader/DeskDuty!Simon Riley

@at-las04 I have delivered? I will be making another shorter part of this, like a little epilogue sort of thing.

Everything had been fine. It started out so fine. Simon comes home when he can, you cook dinner, eat together, sleep in the same bed. You're his blessed girlfriend, his birdie. Simon is you're boyfriend, your darling.

And then things change, slowly at first. It starts with the clothes. You convince yourself that men's clothing is just more comfortable.

"I want pockets for once, Simon!"

"Anything you want, luvie."

So you buy men's jeans, you like the thicker material, the way it feels like a finished product. Then the shirts, button ups, polos, sleeveless. Boxers are next. Simon buys you those boxers made for women, but just looking at the packaging makes something twist in your chest, and you return them after Simon is deployed and extra sets of the boxers he wears.

Things get put on hold, they always do. Simon is hurt, his left arm crushed and amputated. Months go by as the two of you work through the new development, the challenges that come along the way. The churning feeling in your chest that pops up whenever you look in the mirror is pushed to the bottom of the list.

Almost a year, and something new happens again. Your gaze wanders. Simon thinks the worst, thinks that his loss of limb has made you second guess a relationship with him. He's blunt about it, after dropping you off at your flat for the night (he lives two floors above you).

"Does the arm bother you?"

"What?"

"My left arm. Does it bother you that I don't have it anymore? I've seen you looking at other guys."

You try your best, tell him that there's only one man you could love and he's sounding like an idiot right now. Simon pushes, needs to know why you look at other men with something like envy. You don't have an answer.

You want to have an answer for him. You shower, see yourself in the mirror, and wonder what it would be like to be a man. It's a rather new thought, only really in the last year or so that you've had them. But you're sure that other women think the same thoughts. What it would be like to have a penis, or not have breasts. To have a deeper voice, maybe some stubble.

To be able to ask for a haircut, and get exactly what you want instead of a feminine version. Have people look at you and call you 'sir' instead of ma'am. Pectorals instead of breasts. Bloke instead of bird. Man instead of woman.

It comes to a head when you cut your hair short. A rough patch in your relationship with Simon, you still don't have an answer for why you stare at passing men that share a resemblance with you, a new medication that Simon is on that's making him a bit more paranoid than usual.

In your bathroom, at nearly 4 in the morning, you shave your hair. The woman at the salon had given you a pixie cut that day instead of the men's cut you wanted, the one you had shown pictures of so she wouldn't give you a pixie cut. You can't stand how you look in the mirror, and you buzz-cut your hair as you cry.

The next day, you put on your tightest bra, revel in the way it hugs you, flattens your chest somewhat. You're voice is hoarse from crying, a little deeper than usual, words rough as you go out to run errands. With one of Simon's hoodies over top, the man who works at the butcher shop can't tell a difference between man or woman.

"Cash or card, sir?"

Something sparks in your mind, new and dangerous and so fucking good. You grin, wide and unabashed, at the employee. You smile at everyone that calls you 'sir' or 'dude' that day. A search online, dinner on the stove and sitting on your couch, mentions binders. It sends you down a rabbit hole.

Five days later, you've made a slideshow presentation about your research and feelings, Simon will be over for dinner. The night is tense, dinner quiet. Simon says he like your hair, that you have a good head shape for it. You laugh, the tension eases, he helps clean up dinner until you pull him over to the couch.

Your presentation, set up on your laptop on the coffee table, a cool stick you found outside pointing at all of the graphs and charts, takes 10 minutes. Simon sits on the couch quietly for the entire thing, watching you stutter and push and force yourself through it. When you're done, he doesn't speak, doesn't look at you as he gets up to grab another glass of water.

"Say something, please. Don't... don't just stand there and be quiet."

Your voice is quiet, a little shaky as you stand behind him. But he turns finally, wraps his arms around you slowly, pulls you against his chest. Simon's never been good with words, has always said the wrong thing or had the wrong tone. So he falls back on what he knows. Breaking the tension with humor.

"I'm not taking a dick up my ass."

You laugh. The tension breaks. Simon tells you he doesn't fully understand everything you showed him, but he'll learn with you. He's just glad the looks you gave other men weren't because you didn't love him anymore, but because you wanted to be like them.

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #call of duty #ghost x male reader #trans man #trans reader #Ghost x trans reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

138 notes · View notes

lokidjarin-7567 · 9 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 7: Secret Relationship

Spencer Reid x you

Contents: fem!reader x Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), oral sex fem receiving, flashbacks, ooey gooey feelings

W/C: 3.2k

Ok so I’m behind again, oops, but I’m proud of this one! Again, not the kinkiest but I got carried away with the fluff and I also got into a cipher-related rabbit hole so I hope you enjoy regardless :))

PS: This is also a love letter to pre-boyband hair season 5 Spencer, AKA my favourite hair era, as depicted below

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Do you want to grab some coffee?” A voice whispered beside you, a touch too close to be just colleagues. You smiled uncontrollably, heart rate picking up as his hand brushed across your back.

“Sounds good.”

That’s how you found yourself pressed against the door of the copy room, Spencer’s lips on yours, his hand up your skirt.

“We’ve got time, baby…” He practically whined between kisses, bucking his hips into yours.

“Spence! We have…“ you checked you watch absentmindedly, “5 minutes until briefing.” He grinned.

“I take that as a challenge…”

His head started to dip, moving to kneel down, but you grabbed his hair with a fake gasp of disbelief, pulling him back up to his usual height, looming over you.

“Oh honey, I don’t doubt you could, but I’m not sure these walls are soundproof.” Your fingers moved to his cheek, and he sighed into your lips, his hands returning to your waist and squeezing.

“But you left so early this morning, I didn't have time to start your day right…” You were grinning ear to ear, noses bumping into each other clumsily, and you whimpered into his mouth as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

“I know, I know, I’ll make it up to you later, I promise…” You kissed him one last time with finality, pushing off the door and smoothing your skirt, but he was slightly less keen to leave, pressing himself against your hip as he helped straighten your hair and lip gloss. “I should probably leave first. You clearly need a minute.” He huffed behind you, but you had already slipped out of the room, heading into the bullpen as if nothing had happened.

You’d had a crush on him for a long time before anything happened. You joined the team a couple of years ago as a linguistics and code-breaking expert - something that was surprisingly helpful in the cases the BAU took on. You’d harboured years of butterflies, coy glances, occasional hand grazes… and you thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it. You’d known it was unrequited - he never so much as looked in your direction unless he was asking your opinion on something he was working on. It was starting to get to you. Your feelings had slowly been growing, swelling in your chest as you watched from afar, to the point where you had considered transferring departments. And then it all changed.

It was a case in California; a serial killer who was carving encrypted messages into his victims posthumously, only you had no idea what cipher he had used. You and Spencer had been working tirelessly for days to crack it while the rest of the team were searching for physical evidence, and it was a distraction you were grateful for. Even though you were working alone with him in close quarters, it was one of the few times you could briefly forget about your feelings, too consumed with your work to allow yourself to think about him.

It was night 3 of sleeping at the station. JJ had predicted it was going to happen, moving your go bags from the hotel to the precinct on the first day, and you and Spencer had been taking turns napping on the small couch whenever you physically couldn't keep your eyes open. You were sleep deprived and strung out, but you were close. You could feel it. You knew it wasn’t a shift cipher or some kind of alternate alphabet converted back and forth - you had exhausted every possibility of that days ago. You had been testing more complex ciphers, Garcia running everything imaginable through software to attempt to decipher it, but with no luck.

“What haven’t we tried?” Spencer muttered, pacing the room after a last ditch attempt at some kind of converted polybius square. Garcia was on speaker, confirming that she had tried every option available to her twice over.

“I mean, at this point, it could only be some kind of complex Vigenère cipher that somehow hasn’t been deciphered through Garcia’s software, or…” You didn’t even want to say the other option aloud - just the thought that three days work would’ve been completely wasted sent a shiver through your body.

“Or it’s a one-time pad.” Spencer said what you were too scared to, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

“A one-time pad? Is that the…”

“Unbreakable cipher. Yeah.” He confirmed.

“Unless…” A thought struck you, and you stood to the whiteboard you had set up in the room, scribbling down the ciphertext from the first body and converting it to numbers. “We need to think about this from the unsub’s point of view. He wouldn’t use a true OTP because if he truly wanted to hide this code, he wouldn’t carve it on his victims. But, the key might not be random.”

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been picked up on Garcia’s systems…”

“Not if each body had a different key….” You had written and converted the next two bodies’ codes while you were speaking, and you stood back briefly, showing Spencer what you had written. “We’ve been collating the messages and running them as a whole, but…do you see a pattern?” He paused, eyes scanning over the board frantically, and then he calmed visibly, a wave of realisation hitting his features. You smiled as he saw what you did, standing quickly and grabbing another pen to scrawl the keys beneath each.

“The Bible.” He whispered. “A Vigenère is hardest to break if the key is as long as the plaintext. Seven letters. Six letters. Nine letters. Genesis. Exodus. Leviticus.”

“It might work.” He nodded, brow furrowed in thought as he stared at the lettering.

“Let’s try it.” He wrote the corresponding letters as you did the sums, converting them back to the alphabet and - to your shock and relief - it was making sense.

P. L. E. A. S. E. H. …

E. L. P. M. E. I. …

C. A. N. T. S. T. O. P. J. …

“Garcia, can you read the last body please? The one we don’t have photos for yet…”

“No need.” Spencer muttered, writing it down without glancing up. You forgot how immaculate his memory was sometimes.

“Thank you.” It was seven letters. Perfect. You wrote numbers, he converted, you did the sum and muttered the letters aloud…

A. M. E. S. T. O. L.

“James. James ‘tol’? Is that a name, or the start of one?” Garcia asked over the speaker, but Spencer wasn’t listening, muttering to himself as he moved to the files quickly, flipping through them.

“No, I…” You answered for him, “I think Spence is onto something Pen…”

“Get Hotch on the line.” He barked, finding what he was looking for and bringing it to you.

“Hotch here…” A tired voice rung out in the small room just as you realised what Spencer was showing you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“It was David.” He breathed immediately, his words tumbling out at a breakneck speed. “The message on the bodies said something about James followed by T-O-L, and that reminded me of your interview…”

“David kept referring to a colleague throughout the interview, a James, that ordered him around a lot…”

“If he kills again, I bet the phrase would be completed. James told me to, maybe?” You mused, and Spencer nodded.

“Garcia, have you got his file.”

“Yes, I’m opening it now and… oh my god.”

“What is it?”

“He had a brother called James. Hung himself when David was 11.”

“And all of his victims died from strangulation.” The pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

“Address?”

The unsub’s home had been closer to the hotel, so Hotch and the rest of the team went to his listed address, leaving you and Spencer to wait nervously in the precinct. You were pacing frantically, knotting your hands as the sound of your heavy boots echoed throughout the room. Spencer cooed your name calmly, and you turned to him, blushing lightly. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leant forwards with his arms on his knees looking up at you with… a look you’d never seen before. Concern mixed with something else, something foreign to you. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a kind smile.

“Just sit for a minute. Try and relax.” You nodded weakly, perching on the edge and trying to still your racing heart, leg bouncing and hands still twisting in each other with nervous energy.

“Sorry, I… I know we’ve done our bit now but I hate not being there when the team are apprehending him…”

“I know what you mean,” he muttered. You sat in silence for a few minutes, mind racing with what might be happening. What if he was armed? What if he’d decided to shoot his way out? They could all be dead right now, and you would have no idea….

Spencer’s phone rang. He stood, answering it quickly. It was Emily, and you heard him mutter a few affirmatives, smile playing across his features.

“Did they…” You asked as soon as he hung up, and he nodded.

“Yep, it went perfectly. He’s in custody, and they’re on their way back now.” The relief you felt was palpable, a sigh falling from you as he sat back down on the sofa next to you, sinking into it and resting his head back, mirroring your position.

You hadn’t realised your leg was still bouncing until his hand fell to it. Your breath caught in your throat as he squeezed lightly, stilling you effortlessly. He was so warm, slender fingers fanned out across the space just above your knee, and it took a moment for you to compose yourself. You turned your head, and he was already gazing at you, the mysterious expression from earlier back, his dark eyes meeting yours with warmth.

“You were incredible today…” He muttered, hand still resting on his leg, and you couldn’t help but blush. He was the most intelligent person you knew, and likely would ever know, and even without your feelings being involved, a complement from him was about the highest praise a person could get in your line of work.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without you…”

“Bullshit.” He whispered, and you laughed.

“Ok, maybe I could’ve, but it would’ve taken me twice as long.” He chuckled then, eyes scanning over your face with an intensity you only saw when he was trying to analyse something. It felt as though his eyes were boring into your skin, and you had to look away, heart near beating out of your chest. His hand shifted slightly on your leg, and oh sweet Jesus you just remembered it was still there. It had a strange affect on you - like when you put a harness on a cat and they suddenly couldn’t walk. You were frozen solid, trying to breath and staring at the ceiling.

Then his hand touched your chin. It was light, delicate, just guiding your eyes back to his and it wasn’t until that moment you finally realised what that look had been, the one you couldn’t identify. It was a reflection of what you had been feeling for months. The longing, the restraint, the need that swirled up inside you every time you stole a glance at him, and now, seeing those same emotions in his soft eyes, it was sobering. He wanted you too.

He moved first, gently pulling your lips to his and kissing you, light as a feather. It was tentative and sweet, so unsure and your body took a second to process that the thing you had been imagining for years was actually happening. And then you smiled, hands moving to the base of his neck, fingers twisting into his gorgeous hair and you pulled him back to you, lips clashing in a kiss full of years of pent up desire and desperation. You felt his body relax under your touch as the kiss deepened, his hands wandering to trail your waist and hips, before tangling in your hair and holding tight, pulling you closer. You had twisted until you were practically on his lap, hands falling to his shirt and bunching it up as his tongue finally hit yours, every bone in your body turning to jelly as you tasted him. It was magnetic, everything you had wanted for a long time finally coming to fruition and you couldn’t even break away for a second of air, so lost in him that breathing was no longer important.

And then the Precinct door banged open, and you jumped away as though you had been electrocuted. You laughed, cursing quietly as you tried to smooth your hair, tousled from his hands, while he just smiled, gazing at you.

“Spencer!” You whisper-shouted at him, still grinning uncontrollably, and he finally moved, straightening his shirt and placing his jacket over his lap. You giggled like a school girl, standing and moving to the whiteboard to try and convey a more believable working situation, and to put some distance between you and him, not sure how well you’d be able to hide your smile if he was so close to you.

You still jumped when Rossi opened the door to the room, although, you were more surprised when he didn’t speak. You turned to him, confused, and he pointed at Spencer. When you followed his eye line, you realised he was pretending to sleep, head slouched to one side and mouth slightly parted. He looked beautiful.

It had been six months, and you were stronger than ever. You honestly weren't sure how you were still keeping it a secret. You had had years of practice when you were just pining after him, sure, but it was a hell of a lot harder to not give anything away when every time you looked at him, you got flashbacks to the night before. Even if the team somehow did suss out a vibe, no one said anything, which was something you were grateful for. Spence was a lot better than you at masking his feelings, so anyone who noticed something probably assumed you just had a crush on him. Which was true enough.

You had managed to avoid looking at him the entire briefing, which was honestly a miracle, but your mind was ever so slightly distracted by your rendezvous in the copy room. As JJ spoke, you heard something about male victims, and she might have mentioned Tennessee, but all you could think about was that travel meant your date night plans were cancelled. And you were always cautious in hotels - too close to your other colleagues. It was hit or miss; sometimes, the fear of it was fun, the idea that someone could knock and catch you in the act, but if you had adjoining rooms with any of your teammates… well, them hearing you scream his name might just be a bit awkward. So, naturally, all you could think about now was finishing what you started earlier. You wanted this meeting to be over, to get him somewhere private and to let him completely wreck you before the long plane ride, to get this idea out of your head so you could focus on the case at hand. And then, at last, came the magic words…

“Wheels up in 20.”

The team dispersed quickly, and you caught Spencer’s sleeve just before he left the room.

“My car?” You muttered, earning a grin.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“Shut up.” You smiled. “I’ll meet you down there…”

“What’re you doing?” You practically whimpered, as he opened the passenger door instead of joining you in the backseat. He chuckled.

“Just making space.” You were about to ask what for, when he deftly moved the seat forwards, before getting in the back. Oh. You grinned as he pressed his lips to yours with hunger, backing you into the corner and you let yourself be dwarfed by him. His fingers trailed your collarbone, to your waist, and gripping onto your thigh with urgency. You whined as his lips left yours, earning another soft laugh. He managed to fit his tall frame mostly in the footwell, pushing your skirt up to your hips as you bit your lip, admiring him. He was so beautiful, the way his hair fell over his face, his earnest eyes, almost pleading in the way he looked up at you, his long fingers that so deftly moved your panties to one side.

“Can you…” he muttered gesturing to his hair, and you giggled, hand running through the front locks and holding them away from his face. Your leg draped over his back as his head dipped, tongue going straight to your folds, lips circling your core and kissing your sensitive bud with a hum of contentment. Your body relaxed into him, moan escaping your lips. He’d always been enthusiastic about eating you out, and you’d never complained about it. He was good. Really good. And today was no different.

He was lapping you up, relishing every taste and you were getting closer to your orgasm with every circle around your clit, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Spence…” you managed to gasp out, writhing in the seat, “fingers…” He didn’t hesitate for a second, one of the hands firmly holding your thighs apart trailed down to your centre, two fingers slipping into your soaking core. Your groan was filthy as he found that spot that made your toes curl with such perfect precision it was blinding.

“Oh god Spencer…” you choked out between moans and pants… “baby I’m so close…” Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned into you, sending a wave of pleasure through you that sent you over the edge into that searing hot pleasure you were so used to receiving from him. He held onto you as you rode it out, his tongue still circling you until you were finished, finally stopping when you started to whine and squirm from overstimulation.

“Fucking hell, Spence.” You muttered, as he gently returned your panties and carefully let your skirt fall back around you. You watched in awe as he quickly licked his fingers clean, but it was mostly pointless, as his lips and chin were covered in your slick. You giggled.

“You might have to rinse your face before you join the team.” He grinned, pressing his lips to yours with force, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you hum into him.

“Now you will too.”

After a quick clean-up in the parking lot toilets, you both joined the rest of the team, entrances tactically staggered. For once, you couldn’t help but look at him, stealing glances as much as possible, watching as his hands scanned pages as he read and all you could think about is what those hands were doing to you just minutes earlier.

When you started looking into the case, you would be focussed, fully invested, but… you just wanted to stay in this headspace a moment longer. A happy one. A scary one still, for sure, but a fun kind of scary. A hopeful kind of scary. It was peaceful. And peaceful moments were rare in your line of work. His eyes caught yours, sending you a soft smile, and you knew you were in for the long haul, no matter how many people you had to lie or, or how much time you had to hide it for. It was all worth it for the moments of peace with him.

Taglist 🩵 - @emma-e-a

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #Spencer Reid soft #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds

254 notes · View notes

slutoru1207 · 2 months ago

Text

Nowhere to Run pt 2

GIF by red-rift

Mohawk Mark x Reader

The silence stretches between you and Mohawk Mark like a tense wire, but it's broken by the sound of his stomach growling loudly. It’s the kind of growl that could be heard by a mile away, echoing over the barren landscape like a dying animal’s last plea for food.

Mark winces, then shoots you a sideways glance. "Not my fault," he mutters defensively, as if you were somehow responsible for his digestive issues. "You wouldn’t believe how much energy it takes to look this good all the time."

You snort despite yourself, arms crossed tightly as you eye the horizon. "Yeah, I’m sure it takes a lot of energy to look like you just woke up in a dumpster after a bender."

"Hey," Mark says, raising an eyebrow. "I’ll have you know that I’m the pinnacle of rugged charm. These things take time. This?" He gestures to himself dramatically, "This is perfection in motion."

"Uh huh," you deadpan, scanning the wasteland for anything that could pass as a food source or even a way out of here. "If perfection means looking like you fought a rockslide and lost, then yeah. You’re totally perfect."

Mark chuckles, but the sound is short-lived as another growl erupts from his stomach, sounding almost ashamed.

"Okay, okay, you win," he says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "But seriously, if we're gonna make it out of here, we need to find food. And I'm pretty sure you're not gonna find a McDonald's in this hellhole."

You squint at the desolate landscape, considering your options. "Well, unless you're planning to make some weird version of a rock salad, I don't think we're getting anything here. You're gonna have to survive on whatever wild survival instincts you have."

Mark gives a small sigh, muttering, "Great. Just what I need—survival training with you." But then he smirks. "I mean, I'm sure you'll be useful. You probably know how to catch a rabbit or something."

"Yeah, sure. And I'm sure you know how to make fire with your charming personality."

"I could," he counters, turning to face you fully now, his eyes gleaming with the same cocky confidence, "but I’m gonna need a good campfire companion to keep me entertained. You up for the challenge?"

"God help me," you mutter under your breath. "I’d rather deal with a mutant bear at this point."

The moment passes in a stretch of silence, and you both just stand there in the middle of nowhere. The tension between you is palpable, yet there's something oddly comfortable in the banter, as if this dysfunctional, sarcastic dynamic could be the only thing holding your sanity together in this vast, lonely wasteland.

Mark finally shakes his head and groans. "Look, we need to figure this out. And unless you’re secretly a survival expert, we’re gonna have to work together. But only because I’m feeling generous."

You snort. "Yeah, that’s definitely the reason."

"Yeah," he says, cracking his neck, "So, what’s the plan, huh? You got anything in that head of yours?"

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at the horizon. "I don't know, you got any ideas besides annoying the hell out of me?"

His smirk returns. "Well, I was thinking we could wait for a dragon to fly by and swoop us out of here. Or... we could, y'know, just walk."

You blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious or just completely insane. "Oh sure, that’ll totally work."

Mark shrugs, still with that damned smirk on his face. "Hey, no harm in dreaming, right?"

You’re about to retort when your stomach rumbles, an embarrassing reminder that you haven’t eaten in hours either. You glance over at Mark, who’s still looking at you with a faintly amused expression.

"Alright, fine," you mutter. "We’ll walk. But if we end up eating dirt for dinner, I’m blaming you."

"Deal," Mark says, offering you an exaggerated bow. "Lead the way, oh wise survival expert."

You roll your eyes but can't suppress a small smile as you start walking, knowing this journey’s going to be anything but boring.

#invincible x reader #mark grayson invincible #mark x reader #invincible comic #invincible fanfic #mark grayson x reader #invincible season 3 #invincible smut #invincible x you #invincible #mark grayson x you #mohawk invincible

95 notes · View notes

fangirl-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Smosh, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging

Shayne Topp x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing, thongs, gets kinda spicy towards the end but nothing too smutty (making out, hickeys, butt-grabbing lmao)

Notes: This was a rabbit hole I didn’t expect to go down, but here we are.

Summary: you and Shayne have been keeping your relationship on the down low for a while, but as much as you keep sharing clothes, you're just begging to be caught.

“Sooooo," Courtney said, leaning up against your desk. "Who’s shirt are you wearing?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly turning away from your laptop so you could cough it out. “What?”

She grinned. “The shirt. It’s definitely not yours, so who’s is it?”

You wiped your mouth, blushing furiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The shirt’s mine.”

“Oh yeah?” She said, a challenging look in her eyes that made you want to run to the nearest exit. “Why’d you buy a men’s shirt that’s too big in the shoulders and too long in the arms?”

“Uh…style?”

“Bullshit!” She exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, just tell me! Do I know him?”

“What’s going on over here?” Tommy asked, walking over to your desk with Amanda and Angela not far behind.

“Y/N’s wearing a guy’s shirt and she won’t tell me who’s it is,” Courtney explained.

You put your face in your hands. “Tell the whole team why don’t you…”

“Ooh, Y/N’s got a boyfriend,” Amanda teased with a waggle of her eyebrows.

You didn’t deny the accusation (which was true), so they egged on further.

“Where’d you guys meet?”

“When did you start having sex?”

“Do you borrow his clothes often?”

“Is he big?”

“Oh my god, you guys!” You shouted, burying your burning face into your knees. “Can we drop it?”

“Only because we have a shoot to do,” Courtney said. “When we get back I expect all the details.”

You frowned at her as the three of them retreated from your desk.

“They bothering you?”

You looked over and felt yourself relax. Shayne was standing there with a grin, hands tucked awkwardly into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well, they seem to think I’m wearing a guy’s shirt,” you said with a small smile. “Can’t possibly know what they’re talking about.”

Shane chuckled, glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, and kissed you on the forehead.

It had been a bit of a running joke between you for a while, but you usually managed to sneakily wear something of the other’s around the office without anyone noticing.

While Shayne’s generally had to be smaller (he’d look pretty obvious wearing one of your shirts), you had more of a selection.

You wore his denim jacket, he wore your fuzzy socks. You wore one of his snapbacks, he wore one of your bracelets. You wore his crewneck, he wore one of your necklaces. You wore his beanie, he wore your belt. You wore his flannel, he wore your sweatpants.

It had been going on for a while, but Shayne’s button-up was the one getting the attention.

“Wait ‘til they find out I’m wearing your underwear,” Shayne whispered.

You blushed. “You are not.”

Shayne grinned, walking away from you towards set.

“Shayne, you are not!” You called after him.

He just laughed.

You dropped yourself back into your chair with a huff.

You and Shayne had been seeing each other on the down low for a while, not feeling comfortable to come forward about it just yet.

It was one thing if the relationship was going strong for a while and it was someone who didn’t work on the crew, but this was still new territory and keeping it to yourselves would make it less awkward if things happened to not work out.

Plus you were pretty sure Shayne liked the rush of sneaking around; stealing kisses when a space was empty (rare), going with you to pick up coffee or props (occasionally), staggering the way you entered the building when you rode to work together (nearly always).

And you could admit that it was pretty fun sharing secret glances or dirty looks that read “I’ll get you back for that later.” But trying to lie to your friends about stuff when they asked was hard.

Still, you could deal with it for now if it meant you could keep your little secret for a bit longer.

“No way!”

You snapped out of your daze, turning from the script you’d been editing as the shouts from set grew louder.

It was a TNTL shoot so nothing unusual about the loudness but something this time drew you towards it.

Saving what you were working on, you got up and went to see what the fuss was about.

You nearly died on the spot when you recognized the hot pink thong that you usually kept tucked safely away in your drawer at your apartment sticking to Shayne’s ass.

Granted, it was mostly covered by his pants but there was still plenty showing, as it was pulled up by the sides probably as far as he could get it.

Keith was in the hot seat but everyone had come out from behind the divider to see this.

“Oh my god,” was thrown around a lot.

Shayne looked pretty proud of himself for this one, a smug look on his face.

“Where did you even get these,” Courtney asked, incredulous.

“Bought them just for this.”

Lie.

He made quick eye contact with you, and you could tell he was trying not to burst into laughter again and give you away.

They fell into the usual outro spiel so you walked back to your desk to start working again before the girls could come finish interrogating you.

Suddenly, however, you found it hard to focus on editing.

It was a Beopardy video so it should be easy for you (you’d edited a hundred of them) but you couldn’t help but notice Shayne’s outfit.

It was a normal one: white shirt, khakis, jacket. But what caught your eye was your necklace that was dangling around his neck.

It was a (first initial) necklace that you’d had for years and, as far as you knew, no one had commented on it the day he wore it.

You felt an odd mix of emotions about this subtle “claim” of him, an obvious but quiet declaration of your relationship that nobody had questioned.

At least, not yet. The video wasn’t posted yet and fans had a way of deducing things about the Smosh team’s private life that they weren’t super comfortable with (whether true or not).

“Y/N!”

You screeched as Damien slammed his hand down on your desk.

“Don’t do that!” You chided, taking off your headphones.

He and Shayne had both gathered at your desk and were smiling, which was suspicious enough.

“What’s this I hear about you wearing a guy’s shirt?” Damien asked.

Damn it, Courtney.

“It’s my shirt,” you defended, going with your original excuse.

Shayne’s grin widened slightly over Damien’s shoulder.

“Well, let’s just see then,” he said, walking over and grabbing the collar of the shirt. “Calvin Klein, nice. Your guy’s got good taste in shirts.”

You frowned and pushed him away.

“Shayne, don’t you have a shirt exactly like that?” Damien asked.

You sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, I do,” Shayne replied. “We must shop at the same stores, Y/N. Maybe I’ll run into him. Maybe I know him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you guys have nothing better to do than bug me?”

“As a matter of fact, we don’t.”

You groaned. “Go bug someone else, please. I’m trying to get this video done.”

“You sure?” Damien asked. “Because when I came over here it sure looked like you were enthralled with Shayne’s muscles.”

“Oh, grow up,” you said, watching as Damien scurried away before you could swat at him.

Shayne, on the other hand, not afraid of a swatting, shoved something into your palm below the desk before following Damien.

Confused, you looked down at your hand to find your pink thong in all its glory and a note from Shayne that said, ‘sorry for stealing them. Maybe you can punish me later ;)’

You blushed again and shoved them into your bag before trying to get back to work, which had become nearly impossible now.

You finally got the video done by the time everyone was wrapping up for the day, and good thing, too, because you were ready to get the hell out of there.

“Hey, you need a ride home?” Shayne asked, casually.

You usually “ubered” to work, so it wasn’t unusual for someone to offer you a ride.

It also wasn’t unusual that it was mostly Shayne.

“That’d be great,” you replied brightly.

“Ooh! See if you can pull any more information about this guy out of her,” Courtney said, hanging over Shayne’s shoulder. “We’ve already got that he’s blond, works out, and is a white man.”

“Well, damn, Courtney, that could be half the guys in California,” Shayne joked.

“I know, that’s why your mission” -she poked him in the cheek- “is to get something else out of her.”

“I’ll do my best,” Shayne said, waving Courtney off before turning back to you. “Ready?”

If anyone was paying attention, they just might’ve seen the way you looked at each other and figured you out.

But since no one was, you walked out of Smosh Headquarters after another day of fooling your friends.

“Who do you think will find out first?” You asked when Shayne started driving towards your apartment (which was a little closer than his).

He hummed thoughtfully. “Probably Courtney. She’s got this whole sleuthing thing going on about your guy.”

You hummed. “Damian’s like your best friend, though, surely he’s noticed something different.”

“He hasn’t asked but he does think I’ve been seeing somebody and I’m not ready to introduce her to my friends yet,” Shayne replied.

You nodded. “We’ll have to come clean soon, you know.”

He reached over and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it.

It was a simple gesture that he did often but it made your stomach flutter each time.

“I know.”

You rode in silence for a while, Shayne holding your hand. You guys hadn’t really discussed how you would tell everyone about your relationship but you knew the conversation was looming now that questions had been raised by your friends/coworkers.

Neither of you were ready for it just yet.

Shayne pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and found a spot easily, which seemed to be a superpower of his.

“Shay,” you said hesitantly, squeezing his hand and stopping him before he could leave the driver’s seat. “How are we going to tell them?”

Shayne bit his lip before speaking. “How about we just… let them find out? Stop all the sneaking around and see who sees first? Then we can explain.”

“Okay,” you replied. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple before you both got out of the car.

A memory surfaced and you brightened as you guys got into the elevator.

“You know,” you said. “There’s still a punishment in order for what you did to my poor pink thong.”

Shayne blushed but you also saw the way his eyes darkened in anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reached over and grabbed his ass before whispering in his ear. “You’ve been a naughty boy.”

Shayne suppressed a moan and watched anxiously for the elevator to hit your floor.

You sneakily leaned over and began kissing his neck, sucking small marks into his skin. An obvious claim this time.

One of his hands landed on your waist and a sound bubbled from his throat that spurred you on.

Sure, this was an elevator with a camera, but people had done much worse things in it.

Still, you weren’t keen on punishing your boyfriend in the elevator and eagerly pulled him along when the doors opened on your floor.

Shayne’s hands wandered as you fumbled with the keys to get your apartment door open.

You would hope nobody walked by, but that was a concern far from your mind at that moment as you pushed open the door and pulled Shayne inside, only to press him up against it as it closed.

Shayne relished in your control as you held his hands above his head and slid your tongue in his mouth.

He hummed into your kiss and chased your lips when you pulled away.

"Ah, ah, ah," you said with a silly waggle of your finger. "This is a punishment, remember?"

He groaned. "I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

You chuckled, pulling him towards your bedroom. "Next time, ask to wear my thong, and you might get a reward."

"How soon can I take you up on that offer?"

***

“Holy shit, dude!” Damien said. “How many hickeys did this girl give you?”

Shayne was cursing under his breath.

You knew this was going to happen, and he’d fallen for it like an idiot. A horned-up, desperate-for-his-girlfriend idiot.

You knew he was supposed to shoot today, but now they were going to push those videos back because it wasn’t going to work when his neck and collarbone were covered in bruises.

“Long story,” Shayne said.

Not a lie; it definitely would be.

“Oh, come on, you can’t say this is yours!”

The boys looked over to where Courtney was hovering around your desk again this morning.

You were wearing Shayne’s shirt from yesterday, and he nearly made you both late for work when he saw you in it.

You shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Courtney almost whined. “It doesn’t even fit you! If you didn’t want me asking about it, then why’d you wear it!”

You shrugged again.

It was driving Courtney insane.

"Hey, Y/N, did you get that footage I sent over?" Anthony asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at your desk.

You nodded. "Yeah, I saw it in my email this morning. I can probably get that cranked out and sent back to you by the end of the day if you need it."

"That'd be great, but no rush. Just do your thing."

He paused, face contorting as he looked you up and down.

Courtney noticed that he noticed and hurried to get Anthony in on the gossip: “I know! She’s-“

“Why are you wearing Shayne’s shirt?”

Her sentence died on her tongue and Damien’s mouth dropped open.

“Shayne’s shirt?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, he wore it in the sketch yesterday. Ian sent me a picture of the thong thing- Y/N, why are you wearing his shirt?”

Your face was on fire, and Shayne, it seemed, had stopped functioning.

You could see the pieces clicking together in Damien’s mind as he connected the hickeys to the shirt.

“No,” he said, mouth still wide open. “You guys are-“

“Shayne’s shirt??” Courtney repeated, flabbergasted.

“Um…surprise?” You said, grinning sheepishly.

“How could I have missed that?!” Courtney shouted. “It’s so obvious now! You two are always staring at each other and shit! Gah!”

You laughed awkwardly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"And you!" Courtney said, pointing a finger at Shayne. "How could you not tell me about this! I need details right now!"

"Courtney, quiet down, you're going to let the whole office know-"

"Oh, I'm gonna tell the whole office! She's been parading around in your shirts for everyone to see!"

You put your head in your hands, regretting every decision that's brought you to now.

Well, except for dating Shayne. Because while Courtney was raving and Damien was laughing, he was looking at you to see if you were okay.

You smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He smiled back before jumping into normal Shayne mode and ripping right back on Courtney. "You had me try and find out, too! You asked her boyfriend to find out who her boyfriend was!"

You watched them amusedly as the commotion began bringing others around to see what was unfolding.

It wasn't until he cleared his throat that you remembered Anthony was still standing there.

“So,” he said. “Was the thong yours?”

#shayne topp x reader #shayne topp imagine #smosh x reader #smosh imagine

1K notes · View notes

treatmelikeasmut · 1 month ago

Text

The Artist and the Engineer Part 1//Chapter Five//Paint Thinner

<<PREV Master List NEXT>>

Pairing: Viktor x Fem!Artist!Reader

Series Synopsis: Heimerdinger wants a commemorative painting done of Viktor, who is not fond of the idea. It doesn't matter how pretty the artist is.

Chapter Synopsis: The artist takes her unexpected guests to away from Viktor's hiding spot. But her late fee might end up being more than she's willing to pay.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Check out some canon drabbles I wrote during the May Drabble Challenge! They're little sneak peeks into bits coming later in the story!

Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog your favorite fics ❤️

____

You knew it was risky. Demanding to go to a second location to have this conversation. You didn't get to make demands, and especially never about meeting spots. You usually were forced to run with whatever hand they dealt you. But all you could think was, don't look over your shoulder. Don't let them know he's here. Don't get him involved.

Kuegler wasn't supposed to be here. Him and the big hulking thing called Boulder. The academy was supposed to be your safe haven. A place too prestigious for them to be. In a way, you had the advantage. Now you just had to get them to leave. The threaten of Heimerdinger was enough, it seemed. For now.

You tried not to hurry as you lead them out the door. Away from Viktor, hid away like a promise to be kept. He would probably never speak to you again after this. But at least he would be safe, and that was all that mattered. No one else suffering for your mistakes.

Down the hall and to the right was a storage closet, this was where you ducked into. It was just big enough for a person's worth of space between you. Given that just Boulder was the size of three grown men. They were too close for comfort. In here, you were a rabbit in a fox den. At the mercy of claw and tooth in a second if provoked.

Boulder glared down at you out of his one good eye; he was never the smiling sort. Better suited to be back up while Kuegler was the talker. You wondered how he could fit through any sort of doorway. He was the one you were most frightened of, even if he was never the one to lay a hand on you.

This close, you could see just how puckered and angry-looking Boulder's scar was. It ran from the back of his bald head, through one eye (which had been replaced with a stone), carving a nick through a thick nostril and both lips, before disappearing under his chin. How he had survived that wound, you would never know.

Kuegler stood across from you. Sandy hair buzzed at the sides, and the top kept only a finger's length. The only thing not a complete mess about him being a meticulously kept beard. Most of his scars were on his hands and arms. Criss-crossing in thick bands. It was easy to see a few had once been stab wounds. Kuegler was Silco's messenger boy. His debt collector. And, if it came to that, your judge, jury, and executioner.

There were a couple fresh bruises and scrapes. A thin cut across his cheek. So, he hadn't been lying about getting beat. You had to play this right. You didn't want the favor to be returned.

The contents of the letter had your stomach tying itself in tight knots. In the year of transactions, never had you been tasked with any kind of 'late fee.' And it wasn't as if you'd been late by days. Just mere minutes.

"I can't do this," you insisted, waving the paper. "Is he insane?! - Actually, I already know that answer."

"This is yur price fer da late payment, song burd," Kuegler said, crossing is arms. The muscles rippled with every movement. If you weren't so worried he was going to break your neck, you might almost want to use him for an anatomy study.

"But this? This is valuable stuff, they'll notice if it's gone. - Isn't this pushing it?"

"You're pushin' it," Boulder warned.

You swallowed thickly. "All I'm saying is that stealing from the academy is risky. How am I supposed to -"

"Not our problem, sweet 'art," said Kuegler, shrugging. "Silco wants it. You figure out 'ow to deliver."

"What am I looking for? How do I know when I found it?" you asked.

Boulder took a step towards you, glaring down his nose. "Ain't our problem. Boss expects it in a fortnight."

"A fortnight..." you muttered, aghast. Then louder, "Two weeks?! You're kidding."

"You know Boulder 'ere doesn't 'ave a sense of 'umor," chuckled Kuegler, to which Boulder grunted. "You better pay up - and on time this round, girly."

"Or next time," growled Boulder, "your payment will be in blood."

"Trust me, he'll be far too 'appy ta juice ya."

"Where?" Your shaking voice betrayed you. "You can't come here again. It's too risky. - I-If I get banned from the academy, then Silco will never get what he wants."

"Girly has a point, bruver," Kuegler mused, stroking his beard. If you didn't know him, he might almost look contemplative. "It were already risky to 'ave this meetin'. Next time, we'll go to the usual place, then take ya 'round to da boss. Make sure you don't disappoint."

Kuegler moved like he was going to the door. Then his fist was coming at your face quicker than you could react. Pain exploded through your left eye, radiating across your cheek, through your ear, and down your deck. You crashed into the shelf behind you. The back of your head snapping hard against something. Shocks chased down your back then worked through your hips and tailbone as you hit the ground.

"Consider that a reminder," Kuegler said, "we'll be back in a week ta check yur progress. Don't worry - we'll find ya. As ya said, can't pay the boss's due if yer banned from this...fine...establishment. Let's go, Boulder. We got real werk ta be doin'."

You breathed hard through the pain. Each inhale a sharp jab. Eyes watering with it. Boulder grunted at you, then followed Kuegler out the door. Leaving it ajar. Don't cry, repeated over and over in your head. But the tears wouldn't stay in. They flowed freely, dripping onto your shirt. Soft sobs escaped your throat. You couldn't even curl into a ball or cover your face, the pain radiating through you was too much.

You didn't know how much longer you could do this.

Your fingers were still healing. They were more painful than you'd thought broken fingers would be. There was bound to be leagues of new bruises and cuts. Maybe even a concussion. You weren't a fighter. If you were, you never would've gone to the academy. You'd be rotting somewhere in Undercity with only blood to your name. The way it was going, that was all that was going to be left of you anyway.

It was a bit before the stinging faded. Before you could push yourself up on your feet without your legs collapsing. You had to wait for the bitter hate to pass, so that you didn't chase after the pair and pick a losing fight. Maybe if you let them kill you, your life would be payment enough. Maybe they'd leave your parents alone. But then you also wanted to survive, if only out of spite. You were going to crawl out from under Silco's thumb, even if it killed you.

"I hope Viktor's okay," you muttered, double checking before limping into the hall. "I hope he doesn't hate me too much. - Or maybe it would be better if he went to the professor..."

The trek back to the studio seemed to be miles long. Gratefully, it was empty. The side door ajar. Which meant Viktor had followed your instructions. You could only pray you'd held the pair off long enough for him to get back to the lab. You weren't sure what they would do if they found out he'd been there and overheard.

Slowly, you began to clean up your workspace. You soaked the paint off your brushes, put the canvas carefully back in the cubbie, along with the pallet once it was covered. The paint wouldn't dry, at least. Disappointment burned in your gut. You were actually having fun. Viktor was good company. Then, of course, they had to come and ruin it.

You would have to come back at night and finish what you started. Heimerdinger told you that you were welcome any time. Even during the late hours. You'd hoped you weren't going to need to take advantage of it. But maybe you could hide out here for a little while. The letter from Silco still burned behind your eyelids. It was short, but enough to fill you with unbridled dread.

You owe us a late fee. Some of the academy's hextech will suffice.

Below it was his signature and a wax seal embossed with the Zaun symbol.

Hextech.

Of all things you could've been tasked to steal, it had to be hextech. Viktor's work. The thing he was worried the portrait sessions would detract from. It wasn't difficult to realize that work had been everything to him. And you were going to take it...

No.

You couldn't. The idea was entirely appalling. You wouldn't do that to him. To the people who counted on the advancements hextech made. If Silco got his hands on it... There had to be another way.

Something else.

Anything else.

If only you knew what you were looking for. You never looked at what Viktor had written in his notebooks. Maybe next time you saw him, you could pickpocket something. Then at least you'd know what to look for. You'd just have to make sure it got put back before the session was done. No - he'd notice, surely. There was no question of that. Viktor wasn't stupid. In fact, he was incredibly observant. Asking invasive questions, even though he didn't know they were. Things he could deduce just from watching you.

And you knew he watched you very intently.

Enough to where you had to force yourself to keep a straight face. Keep your eyes on the page as much as you could. Keep your distance. Fallon had put a thought into your head that you didn't want. One that tried to worm Viktor from just a pretty art subject into the realm of attractiveness that made your heart flutter. But you wouldn't do that to him. To anyone. Your life was a mess; you refused to bring anyone else into it.

Viktor would stay your art piece. Immortalized. Frozen. And, unfortunately, a means to end when all was said and done. You were regretting everything that lead you here. More people were getting involved than you wanted.

You were already regretting telling Fallon everything. What if Boulder and Kuegler found out she knew and went after her? She was just a kid. Her whole future was ahead of her. If only she wasn't such a fixer. She kept trying to weasel in and find ways to help. But there was nothing she, or anyone for that matter, could do to help straighten out this disaster. You only had yourself to rely on.

Right now, you just hoped Viktor would uphold his side of the bargain. Would it be easier if Heimerdinger just kicked you off academy grounds? Maybe. Still, the prospect made your stomach slosh. This had been your home away from home. You couldn't lose that.

Beyond that, if you were banned, word would spread like wildfire. No more paying jobs. No more clients, new or otherwise. You'd be forced to move back with your parents. Probably work for Silco until the end of your days. Just another piece of garbage left to rot.

But if you didn't find something to present Silco - you shuddered to think what would happen. They wouldn't just torture you. They'd go after everyone you cared about. Every person you'd ever made contact with. Including Viktor...dear sweet Viktor with his honey-colored eyes. Vats of liquid amber. You wouldn't be able to finish his portrait and hold up your side of the deal with Heimerdinger.

If they ever were sent after either of them... Viktor they'd force into servitude, putting that brilliant mind to work for whatever twisted things Silco wanted. The professor would probably be handed over to a Yordle hunter. Or they'd both be killed without hesitation just for being involved with you. Then your parents. Then Fallon. And you just couldn't bear the thought of signing their death warrants like that.

You scribbled a note to Viktor, something short and vague. Now to get it to him. But how? Where was his lab? You'd never gone to the engineering wing before. The last you wanted was to wander aimlessly. Heimerdinger would know. A pulsing pain in your eye reminded you of how you looked. The image confirmed when you passed the tall mirror. Scrapes and cuts up and down your arms, a few on your face. Blood leaked from your hair line and nose. Your eye was already bruising and swelling. You could hardly see.

The professor would know those thugs had been on campus. And who knew what kind of trouble that would bring.

Bag slung over your shoulder, you hurried from the studio. The halls were blessedly empty. With any luck, you'd be able to make it off campus without notice. Maybe you'd even be able to avoid Fallon.

You were lost in thought as you walked. There had to be some a way out. You didn't notice someone in the entrance hall until you crashed into them and you both fell in a scatter of papers. Which sent new waves of pain through your body.

But then you saw who it was - the Man of Progress himself. A councilman. Viktor's co-worker.

Jayce Talis.

You scrambled to pick up all the pages on the floor. Some were yours, sketches having fallen from your bag. Others were his. Pages of notes and calculations and runes. A shopping list, you were pretty sure. One page in particular caught your eye. It was a sketch of a device with runes on it. You snatched it, shoving it into your bag while he got his barring.

"Sorry about that," Jayce said. He scrambled to clean everything up. Handing over a few of the papers. "Guess we were both pre-occupied."

"It's fine," you chuckled, "You're Jayce, right?"

"Guilty."

He didn't sound the least bit shocked that you knew him. How many people came up to him in a day and started talking to him? He had to be recognized everywhere. His face was plastered all over the city.

"I think I painted your mom recently. She was a lovely woman."

Ximena Talis was truly one of the nicest people you'd ever met. She went on and on about Jayce the entire time. Gushing about his accomplishments and how proud she was. It almost sounded like she was trying to set you up.

"I thought so, I -" Jayce stopped short and when you looked up, you saw he was staring at you. Frowning. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you hurried, shoving the rest of your papers into your bag. "I had a bit of an oopsie earlier. Nothing serious. - Sorry, about running into you like that. I have to scoot. But it was really nice to meet you."

You shoved off the floor and rushed towards the front door. Ignoring the protests in your joints. Jayce was caught between picking up his papers and following you. He called after you. You used the opportunity to escape into the crowd of students starting to flood out of afternoon classes.

Your mind was reeling. There were arrangements to make. That drawing gave you an idea, you just hoped it would work. The trick was not to get caught. If Viktor stuck to his word, there was never going to be a favor big enough to repay him. But maybe you didn't have to break into the lab after all.

Maybe -- just maybe -- there was another way.

~*~

TAG LIST

@starmansolar @motheroffae @vintagehellfire @seaweedbumblebee @21-princess @starriekaede @local-mr-frog @tspmovro @hexhoess @shushjayvik @green-haus @bill-nye-the-russianspy @crimsonlegend @jo-the-cosmic-being

#viktor arcane #arcane #viktor x reader #arcane fanfic #viktor fanfic #arcane viktor x reader #arcane league of legends fanfiction #viktor #arcane viktor #the artist and the engineer #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #viktor my beloved #viktor nation #viktor x you #update day

64 notes · View notes

theexaltedbride · 2 months ago

Text

Rabbit X Human Female Reader Headcannons (NSFW)

-Rabbit has once used his enhanced speed to slap and play with your ass and your breasts like they were bongos. Though if you tell him its too rough on your breasts he will be happy to just play music off your ass with his hands like a skilled drummer.

-If you ever show him that one knife fight scene from the Mask of Zorro, Rabbit would be happy to recreate it with you. his speed lets him be much more careful with things, even if it looks like he's moving recklessly. He's fast enough to deflect and dodge bullets, cutting clothes off without hurting you would be easy.

"You can consider it a reward if you do well in our actual sword training sessions together." He will tease you, and study the scene to see how he might be able to mimic it or improve it. The real challenge will be for you to strip him. At least he's durable so he can handle a cut or two.

-Rabbit can actually open his mouth very wide and likes to show you how much larger his tongue is to that of a human. Yes, your Rabbit gladly eats ass and will eat pussy like a starving man being given a birthday cake. He's not a coward about it the way some men are and treats it like someone saying they hate eating candy.

"More for me then!"

He's also skilled at using that tongue for more than giving speeches or sampling tea. He will do things to your clit that no human ever could. When he hears that many men struggle to do even that much it draws a laugh from him.

"How is it you humans say it? Ah yes! 'Skill Issue'."

Whenever you say how he is getting on your nerves and pushing your buttons, he likes to reply. "I know how you make you feel better, I just need to push one specific button." To which he will then lick his lips with his tongue or make some other kind of gesture with it to really hammer home what he means.

-A few times now Rabbit has wanted to chase you, just to really burn his stamina. You can only do it on Earth where he knows a random demon won't try to kidnap you. But each time he does it he gets such a rush, his cock throbbing, practically leading the way for him, and veins pulsing with need as he gives you a five to ten minute head start to run naked (save for some shoes or sandals to protect your feet from twigs and rocks) through the woods before he runs after you at the speed a rabbit is known for, getting his blood pumping, and his desire for you only making him want to catch you all the quicker. Once he catches you, his tongue will plunge into your throat, as his cock plunges into any available entrance.

Sometimes he can't even manage that, and just settles for grinding against you, his truly feral side coming out as he barely speak beyond huffs and gasps of pure desire.

And all of that desire, that lust, that need, that love, is directed solely at you.

-Sometimes when Rabbit is eating you out, his nose will press against you and it is surprisingly cold, which creates such a contrast with his breathing because his breath is hot (and only further throws you for a loop because his fur is smooth when it brushes against your thighs).

-Shower sex is entirely possible with Rabbit, he's not a canine so he doesn't produce that 'wet dog' smell, especially if using actual soaps when on Earth (and honestly that kind of experience is only possible on Earth).

-If you want Rabbit to be a Daddy Dom in the bedroom he certainly can be, and can deliver spankings like nobody's business. Just with his voice alone he can set the tone, and his demeanor can go from posh and proper gentlemanly, to stern daddy at the drop of a hat.

He will however refuse to spank you with anything but his own hand (either with gloves on or gloves off). He cares for your safety and won't risk accidentally hurting you with a paddle or belt because he's too strong. He will also only play like that in the bedroom. He has an operation to run and will not have his authority questioned by anyone because he can't keep it in the bedroom.

If you get too excited during your 'punishment' he will take notice and run a single finger along your lips before bringing it up to his mouth to taste it.

"Naughty girl, who told you to make a mess? I certainly didn't. That will be ten more spanks for each cheek, and I expect you to count them out missy!"

-Aftercare cuddle time is mandatory after anything rough and even more intense lovemaking. He knows he can be intimidating and wants to make sure you're okay.

-Rabbit sometimes has a thing for keeping you naked in the bedroom while he wears a suit. Your body is entirely exposed to him, and he can enjoy every part of it, its one of the few times he enjoys making a mess of his suit as you lunge at one another and really go at it.

-Rabbit explicitly refuses to have sex with you after a battle, especially if a human was killed. He does not want to associate these emotions together. Sex is sex, fighting is fighting. They should never mix. You are his source of comfort, and he doesn't want to poison that.

-Once you and rabbit were making love in his office in Makai when a demon burst in demanding to discuss business with Rabbit (something about wanting something special smuggled from Earth to Makai). He'd been told he had to wait, and refused to do so. Now he'd burst in, and Rabbit had to adapt to the situation.

Rabbit locked eyes with the demon, and kept thrusting his hips as he laid you out on his desk.

"It can wait until my current meeting is finished." He told the demon, and you. But with how his thumb stroked your hand, you knew he had a plan.

It was a display of dominance. If he backed out or cowered or tried to cover up, then he would look weak and other demons might think they could get away with this kind of behavior. So, he kept going while locking eyes with the intruder and didn't truly speak to them until he'd had his orgasm (A little bit after he'd made you gasp beneath him, to further show his talents and skill). The demon had intruded trying to put Rabbit on the backfoot, and was left feeling awkward and embarrassed as rabbit turned his own trick around against him.

No one ever tried that again with Rabbit, though you suspect he might actually enjoy pulling that trick again.

-At his most excited he puts new meaning to the term bunny hopping' when slamming himself into you. Its like he's a speed demon (well...technically he is?) and the only thing to calm him down is reaching three or four orgasms with you. His refractory period is insane, but he's got enough control to not let it be an issue.

This also applies to when you are riding his cock (be it cowgirl or reverse) and Rabbit suddenly gets it into his head to thrust upwards and use the bed to help give him some extra bounce in his movements, and really get you bouncing on him.

-Rabbit once tied the end of his monocle chain to a nipple ring on the same side of his body. He's not sure if he likes it, but is waiting to see how you feel on it next time you're intimate together.

-Not many demons can safely give oral sex, so it has become one of his favorite things from you, especially if you stain his body with your lipstick. It really gets the rabbit flustered, because his white fur is like a canvas for you to paint.

-When it comes to sex toys, he's not much of a fan.

"I can satisfy you better than any piece of plastic. That being said, there is one I do like." He says as he clicks a button for a remote controlled vibrator hidden inside of you.

"I do love to hear you moan."

-Rabbit didn't fully understand human menstrual cycles at first. But once he did, he began to save something special in mind for the day you showed signs of being genuinely pregnant with his Kits, he will make a comment to you of.

"Alice, you're late."

Any punch or kick or thrown pillow his way to silence his laughter will be utterly worth it. If he realizes he's going to be a dad, he's going to stock up on dad jokes, the worse they are the more he will tell them.

(And if you're into it, he will absolutely tease you about how many Kits you're going to make together. Rabbits are well known for multiplying.)

-------

Couple playlist.

"Better than Drugs' ~Skillet.

'Separate Ways.' ~Journey.

#white rabbit x reader #dmc rabbit #canon x reader #devil may cry white rabbit #rabbit x reader #dmc rabbit x reader #devil may cry rabbit x reader #dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #dmc netflix

72 notes · View notes

holnnetd · 6 months ago

Text

Changed roles ladies!

If you checked my profile, you'd know that I'm a SUCKER for anything leporidae related. Yuppie yuppie, hares and rabbits.

And you can only imagine how happy I got seeing this post. Thank you for blessing me with that @m1cr0-bats

It became my own mission to fullfil my destiny.

HARE HYBRID!KÖNIG

Oh those huge soulless eyes staring at you in the middle of training. You wonder how a prey animal got into the army, really. But look at him. Sharp features, long ears, strong legs and a ridiculously cute stubby tail.

Hares are the most predatory of the leporidae. But still nowhere near a predator, really.

But with his height? Huge. Really. 6'6 man with the look of an European hare. The only taller counterpart would be the arctic hare, but it is not as adaptable as the all known Lupus europaeus.

Going into military with his height? Phew.

You can laugh about a hare in the military until you know the fear of standing face to face with those soul-less eyes staring deep into your soul, judging your past mistakes.

Although the overly scary man is... contradictory to any believes, really bad with depth perception. Although great with jumping far, he will most like every now and then jump into a hole. Silly.

"No, you cannot be a sniper." You'd argue, taking the sniper rifle out of his hands covered with a light peachy fuzz.

He stares at you deeply, staring into your eyes until a shiver runs down your spine from the eary look.

"I can." He absolutely can't. A sniper has to have to depth perception mastered. Pulling the trigger is to be done with great precision and unmistaken knowledge. Which is hard to attain if you don't know where the hell the enemy is standing.

"Okay, yeah. Fine." You argue, taking several steps back from the man, before standing five meters apart.

"Tell me how far I am away from you." You challenge the man. It's pretty obvious for any military staff to know it's about 5 meters. Really basic training.

"..." He started sweating, trying to figure how far it is. In his eyes you barely moved two steps. He glances in confusion on teh ground, trying to count the steps taken.

"Three."

"Three what?"

"Three meters?"

"..." A rookie would have known it's five. "You're never touching the sniper."

"Oh, komm schon! Tue mir das doch nicht an. I always wanted to be a sniper." He whines, following you as you shake your head, walking away.

He follows your out of the door, but hits his ears against the doorframe, quickly hissing before hitting his head against the side of the doorframe as he tried to look up.

Really silly.

#konig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #könig x you #könig mw2 #i'm trying #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #Hare!König #Yes mhm yuppie #hybrid au #hybrid #Hare #Military Hare lol #Got inspired #A part two will come #I like him like that

130 notes · View notes

razberrypuck · 2 years ago

Text

so I've noticed A Trend with some of my favorite fnaf characters

obligatory explanations below the cut bc I know some of yall are gonna be annoying if I don't

spring bonnie: its character description in fnaf world reads "male? female? it's a rabbit, who cares?" springtrap and plushtrap are referred to with he/him pronouns, but never spring bonnie on its own.

mangle: this has been a running joke since fnaf 2; but his gender is a resounding "yes," as explicitly confirmed in freddy in space 3, during monty's trivia level. she uses he/she pronouns in all character descriptions.

funtime foxy: in his sister location custom night and ultimate custom night descriptions, he's referred to with exclusively he/him pronouns, but participates the "ladies night" challenges in both games. handunit also refers to funtime foxy with she/her pronouns in sister location.

lolbit: only ever referred to by name. if mangle's gender is yes, lolbit's is likely no.

daycare attendants: glamrock freddy, the only reliable source of information in security breach and only character that refers to the daycare attendants, uses it/its pronouns when talking about them. in the ruin DLC, helpi also refers to the daycare attendants with it/its.

#there might?? be some i missed??? i dont THINK so but if there is please feel free to add on #also if anyone tries to “um actually” me with some game files shit or something youre just adding to their inherent enby-ness. sorry.#it just means they use multiple sets of pronouns :)#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf spring bonnie #fnaf mangle #fnaf funtime foxy #fnaf lolbit #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon

1K notes · View notes

ironinc · 4 months ago

Text

Dangerous Riches.ᝰ.ᐟ

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader. (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ You are married to Tony Stark, who leads a double life as a wealthy billionaire and a cunning drug lord. Despite being aware of his illegal business, your love for him clashes with your morals. Your life with him presents numerous challenges as you navigate the treacherous world of crime and grapple with the difficult decision of trusting him.

⤷ Oneshot, smut, oral sex, very detailed so here’s the warning! But it’s worth it.

⤷ A/N: I got this inspo from the edit that I’m gonna leave down there v. I can’t beleive I haven’t hought of this sooner. I hope you all are enjoying you’re night!

⤷ Word count: 2,430

⤷ Special song to add spice: All I Need by Lloyd

⟡

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” Tony murmurs, his voice low and smooth, like velvet dipped in honey. His hand brushes against the small of your back, a subtle but possessive gesture that sends a shiver through you.

You’re standing in the middle of his opulent penthouse, the city lights of New York twinkling like fallen stars through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind you. The air is thick with tension, the kind that makes your heart race and your skin prickle.

You don’t want to look away, but you can’t help it. Your gaze shifts to the man across the room—tall, broad-shouldered, with a scar running down his cheek. He’s not the kind of man you’d want to cross, and yet here he is, standing in your living room, making a deal with your husband.

Your husband. Tony Stark. The man who spoils you rotten, who buys you everything your heart desires, who makes you feel like a queen in his arms. And yet, the man who leads a double life, one that you’ve only glimpsed in the shadows until now.

“You’re staring,” Tony says, his voice cutting through the silence. His fingers tighten on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Don’t.”

“Tony,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “What’s going on?”

“Business, baby. Just business.” He’s calm, too calm, and it’s unnerving. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

But you are worried. Because you’ve seen the way the other man looks at you like you’re a prize to be won. And you’ve heard the whispers, the rumors about Tony’s other life—the one that involves drugs, money, and power.

── .✦

It started, as most things do, with a gift.

Two weeks ago, Tony surprised you with the keys to a brand-new BMW i7. “For my queen,” he’d said, pressing the keys into your hand. You’d laughed, of course, because Tony was always lavish with his gifts. But there was something different about this one, something that made you pause.

You’d taken the car out for a spin, the engine purring beneath you, the smell of leather and money filling your senses. But when you’d pulled into a coffee shop downtown, you’d seen him—Tony, standing in the alleyway, talking to a man you didn’t recognize.

You’d watched, your heart pounding, as Tony handed over a briefcase, the man nodding before disappearing into the shadows.

You’d confronted him that night, of course. “What was that?” you’d asked, your voice shaking. “Tony, what are you involved in?

He’d kissed you then, his lips silencing your questions. “Don’t worry about it, baby,” he’d said, pulling you into his arms. “It’s just business.”

But it wasn’t just business. And tonight, standing in the penthouse, you’re starting to realize just how deep the rabbit hole goes.

── .✦

“You’ve got a beautiful wife, Stark,” the man across the room says, his voice rough and guttural. “She’s a keepsake.”

Tony’s grip on your waist tightens a silent warning. “She’s off-limits,” he says, his voice icy. “Don’t even think about it.”

The man laughs a deep, throaty sound that makes your skin crawl.

“Relax, Stark. I’m just admiring the view.”

You swallow hard, your throat dry. You’ve always known Tony was a man of power, a man who got what he wanted. But seeing him like this—cold, calculating, dangerous—it’s both terrifying and exhilarating. You feel like you’re standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering between fear and desire.

“Go upstairs, baby,” Tony says, his voice soft but commanding. He hands you a thick envelope—cash, you know because Tony always gives you cash to keep you busy. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

You nod, your legs shaky as you make your way to the staircase. But you don’t go upstairs. Instead, you linger in the shadows, watching, listening.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Stark,” the man says, his tone serious now. “You think you can keep her out of this? She’s in it now, whether you like it or not.”

Tony doesn’t respond, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, and the way his jaw clenches. And then, in a voice so low you can barely hear it, he says, “She’s off-limits. If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

Your heart stops. You’ve never heard Tony sound like that—so cold, so deadly. It sends a shiver down your spine, and yet, a part of you is drawn to it, to the power he exudes, the way he’d do anything to protect you.

── .✦

Later that night, you’re lying in bed, the silk sheets cool against your skin. Tony’s beside you, his body warm and solid as he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m scared, Tony,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m scared.”

He sighs, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “You don’t need to be scared, baby. I’ve got you. I’ll always protect you.”

But you’re not sure if that’s enough anymore. Because you’ve seen the other side of Tony, the side that’s dark and dangerous. And you’re not sure if you can love that side of him, or if you even should.

“Tony,” you say, your voice trembling. “What are you involved in? Tell me the truth.”

He’s silent for a moment, his fingers stilling on your skin. And then, in a voice that’s heavy with regret, he says, “It’s complicated, baby. But you’re my wife. My queen. I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything?” you ask, your heart pounding.

“Anything,” he repeats, his voice firm. “But you have to trust me.”

You want to trust him. You really do. But as you lie in his arms, the weight of his words pressing down on you, you’re not sure if you can.

── .✦

The roses arrived the next morning, a dozen deep crimson blooms wrapped in black tissue paper. A card was tucked among the thorns, the handwriting bold and slashing: For the most beautiful woman in New York, with admiration—Unknown. You froze, the card slipping from your fingers as your heart thudded in your chest. The scent of the roses was intoxicating, but it only made your stomach churn.

Tony walked in just as you were staring at the arrangement, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto the flowers. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the room felt colder. “Who sent those?” he asked, his voice low and deceptively calm.

You swallowed hard, knowing there was no point in lying. “There was a card. It said… ‘Unknown.’”

Tony’s expression darkened, and you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming as he plucked one of the roses from the arrangement. He twirled it between his fingers, his gaze never leaving yours. “Unknown, huh?” he said, his voice dripping with menace. “That scarred bastard thinks he can send my wife flowers? What the fuck does he think he’s doing?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, the intensity of his jealousy both terrifying and thrilling. “Tony, I don’t know what he’s trying to do. Maybe it’s just a game to him.”

He scoffed, tossing the rose onto the table. “A game?” he repeated, stepping so close you could feel the heat of his body. “He’s trying to play with me. And he thinks he can use you to do it.” His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him. “But he doesn’t know who he’s messing with.”

You could feel the tension radiating off him, his possessive jealousy igniting something primal inside you. His lips crashed onto yours in a searing kiss, rough and demanding. You gasped into his mouth, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he backed you toward the wall.

His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt and peeling it off in one swift motion. His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he growled, “You’re mine. Do you understand? No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to look at you like that.”

You nodded breathlessly, your body arching into his as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down. “Tony,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He stepped back just long enough to shed his own clothes, his eyes never leaving yours. “You belong to me,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. “And I’m going to remind you of that.”

He picked you up effortlessly, carrying you to the large dining table and clearing it with one sweep of his arm. The vase of roses toppled to the floor, shattering as he laid you down on the cool surface. His hands pinned yours above your head, his grip firm but not painful. “You see those flowers?” he asked, his voice dark and commanding. “They’re nothing compared to what I’m about to give you.”

His lips found yours again, his kiss hot and insistent as he let go of your wrists and began to explore your body with his hands. His fingers trailed down your sides, grazing over your sensitive skin before dipping between your thighs. You gasped, your legs parting instinctively as he stroked you, his touch deliberate and unyielding.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

“You,” you breathed, your hips lifting off the table as his fingers worked their magic. “I belong to you, Tony.”

He growled in approval, his lips moving to your breasts as he continued to tease you. His tongue flicked over your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through you as he sucked hard. You moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh.

He pulled back suddenly, his eyes blazing as he reached into the drawer of the table and pulled out a silk scarf. You recognized it immediately—it was one of the expensive ones he’d bought for you on your last shopping spree. But now, he had a different use for it.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice soft but firm as he tied your wrists together with the scarf. You nodded, your heart racing as he secured them to the leg of the table. You were completely at his mercy, and the thought sent a rush of heat through your core.

He stepped back, his eyes roaming over your bound body with unmistakable hunger. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “And you’re all mine.”

He knelt between your legs, his hands parting your thighs as he leaned in. His breath was hot against your skin, and you squirmed in anticipation.

But he didn’t give you what you wanted just yet. Instead, he began to tease you with his tongue, flicking lightly over your clit before pulling away.

“Tony, please,” you begged, your hips lifting off the table in desperation.

He chuckled, the sound dark and sinful. “You’re so eager,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

He leaned in again, this time taking you into his mouth with a slow, deliberate motion. You cried out, your back arching off the table as he lavished attention on your most sensitive spot. His tongue moved in expert circles, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still as he devoured you.

The pleasure was building quickly, your body trembling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. But just as you were about to tip over, he pulled away, leaving you gasping and desperate.

“Tony!” you moaned, your voice breaking with frustration.

He stood, his expression smug as he looked down at you. “Patience, baby,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re not done yet.”

He positioned himself between your legs, his erection pressing against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours. “Tell me again,” he demanded, his voice rough with need.

“I’m yours,” you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. “I belong to you, Tony.”

He growled in approval, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust into you in one smooth motion. You cried out, the sensation was overwhelming as he filled you completely. He set a relentless pace, his hips slamming into yours with a primal urgency that left you breathless.

The table rocked with the force of his thrusts, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You could feel the pleasure building inside you again, your body tightening around him as he drove you closer to the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” he grunted, his voice rough with exertion. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

His words were all it took to send you over the edge, your body convulsing as pleasure exploded through you. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside you with a low groan.

He collapsed onto the table beside you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His hands moved to untie the scarf, his touch gentle now as he freed your wrists. He pulled you into his arms, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice filled with possessiveness and something else—something softer. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to have you.”

You nestled into his chest, your body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. “I know, Tony,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of fear and desire. “I’m yours.”

But somewhere in the back of your mind, a tiny voice whispered—what happens when ‘yours’ means more than you can handle?

As if sensing your thoughts, Tony pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice softer now, more concerned.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the words. “I… I don’t know, Tony. This is all so much. The roses, that man, the things you do… I’m scared.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks.

“I know it’s a lot,” he said, his voice gentle. “But I’ll protect you. No matter what.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that he could keep you safe in this dangerous world he’d dragged you into. But as you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the storm was only just beginning. Unknown wasn’t going to back down, and neither was Tony.

And you were caught right in the middle.

This was the edit- CAN YOU SEE IT TOO?? GAHHHHH!!@(#(( I need that... my toes are CURLINGGGG.

(Credits: Jaffyae on TikTok)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ I'll see you later ‹𝟹

102 notes · View notes