#(like you breed affection for a character through familiarity)

[miodiodavinci]

i saw that you used to hint at oc stuff on twitter (don't ask me why im digging im looking for zola stuff lmao) why don't you post more about them?

i am simply terrified that if i post oc things online someone will steal the concept and run with it faster and better than i ever could have and then i will be devastated forever and ever

more seriously i have very little to show for any of my oc things (adhd brain making life difficult as per usual awawawawawa) and every time i've shared oc things in the past i've ended up never following up on it and it makes me feel bad and guilty so i've just convinced myself i will Never talk about my ocs until i have something substantial i can put out there

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

A New Life's Darkened Lust

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 5.2k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, references to character death, implied references to past rape, references to torture, jealousy and possessive thoughts, smut, oral (f receiving), slight somnophilia, p in v, breeding kink

Notes: Wasn't included in the original chapter as to not make it so smut heavy, but if you were wondering how resurrection affected Jon during his reunion with the reader, he sure had some desires even he wasn't expecting. Original Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

The combination didn't make sense. Hazy and foggy, eyes not even open yet but part of Jon could feel against bare skin all over, the freezing cold. Yet most of his front was warm. Whatever was keeping him warm was as soft as his arms had wrapped around it tightly, pulling it close until he realized it was loose strands of hair his face had been tucked into. Hands tightened trying to figure out where he was, it didn't feel familiar and yet it felt right.

Brows furrowing in confusion, he still felt that pull of wanting to go back to sleep fight with getting his bearings and- then it hit him. Where he was, what had happened, and the second Jons grey eyes opened, he lifted his head just slightly to confirm what for barley half a second, did he worry was a dream. No, it would've been a nightmare actually.

The scars littered about his chest, they were real but so was the figure in his arms. It was all real, the past two nights had actually happened but it also meant that had it been a dream? Then you'd still be dead, and that would truly be a nightmare.

But you weren't. You were tucked away in Jons arms, as bare as he was down in the Ice Cells of Castle Black.

The very second last night that Jon had opened his eyes in his own body, something was..different. A feeling trickling in slowly as he sat up in a shock, building behind the scenes as Jon and Ghost reunited properly as two separate beings again, and his direwolf almost knocking him right back over at seeing him awake. Only the moment Jon finally felt as if the world made sense again, did he realize it.

He was not a man who had the words to express how he knew, but he did. Jon knew it was you, he felt it in his bones, in his heart, his mind, everything screamed at him that it was you. Almost like a force beyond his control was telling him what no one else would've been able to figure out. The last in Ghosts mind Jon saw you was so recent and yet it felt like hours.

It was minutes ago, but he struggled to put it together. What happened in that room, all he could remember was lunging for the red woman and you pulling him back, when all Jon wanted to do was tear her apart then and there for the way she spoke to you. It was so loud in his head, but he couldn't sift through the noise long enough to recall what you were doing.

But then it flooded him. Whatever changed in Jons new life started right then and there. The thought that you were somewhere here, outside in Castle Black, alive as any. His heart pounded, raced, he felt lightheaded just thinking you were so close to him but not where he could see you.

He needed you, he needed you here, he needed you in front of him, and Jon needed everything you and him never could share before. Howling in his head, he could feel a pain accompanying the overload but it all spun back to you. It was feral, the racing of his heart that told him you couldn't just walk around alone. You needed to be here, with him.

If Jon didn't have you in front of him soon, he was going to lose it. Enough sense remained in him to say he couldn't just walk out there here and now, but one could. Kneeling back down in front of his direwolf, he ran his hands and nails along Ghost once more. Now whining at Jon as if sensing his own distress.

Muttering your name out in a painful husk that shredded at his throat, Jon beckoned Ghost. “Bring her to me. Go on Ghost, bring her here.”

Ghost turned on a dime, and left. Leaving Jon standing in the cold cell alone, nothing but the temperature sinking into his bare chest mostly exposed. It was an odd thing to admit, but the longer Jon was there and you weren't, the harder he got.

Hands braced against the stone wall, Jon squeezed his eyes closed trying to figure out why he was losing his mind. Everything felt wrong the longer you weren't here. Jon couldn't understand but there was something horrifically dark clawing at his chest demanding he take you for himself. You were his best friend, he thought you were dead for over a year, he should want to see you, but there was something a best friend should never think of towards the other. Something perverse, something howling inside him.

Jon stood there in the relative dark of the cell alone, the more he realized something about him was a harsher man, a worse man. His breathing was heavy, jaw clenched trying to reign himself in but every single time even a glimpse of you in his mind passed by, he could feel his cock throbbing. Something growling in his head that he was just letting his girl walk around a castle full of men, when he should be storming up there himself and fucking you in the middle of the courtyard for all of them to understand you were his.

You two had never even been together as such, Jon hadn't even been with a woman that way which wasn't forced on him. But if Ghost took much longer to find you and bring you down to Jon, he was going to leave to do it on his own. It didn't matter where he'd find you, Jon would tear every scrap of clothes you had on and take you in front of every single man here if this went on any longer.

But then he'd clench his fingertips against the wall with a shaking exhale. This wasn't him, he was a man not a wolf, why was he being so aggressive and territorial about this? He hadn't seen you in front of him alive and he should be emotional about it, but wave after wave of something was making him out of his mind.

Then he heard it. The sound of the doors opening in the distance. So Jon stood there, the darker corner he found himself in until you and your beautiful eyes all wide and fearful walked in and once more his cock was screaming at him. Then Jon slammed the door closed behind you, and did not hesitate to lock you in with him.

That was hours ago though. His heart was far more settled now. Far less wolf finally, and much more of a man. A man with the woman he loves right in his arms, bare after a night he finally lived out what he dreamt of for over a decade. He finally got to be with you, be inside you, make love to you.

And then you fell asleep in his arms down here, and Jon thought he was more calm. But he wasn't.

Under the roughness of his palm, Jon could feel the jagged scar crossed along your lower stomach and it made his own insides twist. Skin raised and if his memory was correct, it was as if the wounds were painted red and black without any healing. Not quite open to the world as if anything could sink into it, but it was as if it existed on your skin but separate to your body.

Jon couldn't even possibly imagine what it must have looked like when it happened, there was no chance that horrific of a wound didn't leave you to bleed out in minutes at most. He'd be shocked if you hadn't collapsed to the ground and died in seconds. Roose Bolton didn't just kill you, he had utterly butchered you like a hunter gutting an animal. There were other marks too, ones he couldn't know which was from which but the longer he laid there with you asleep in his arms the more his eyes grew dark and hands held tighter thinking about it all.

There was nothing any existence beyond this life which would have been better then when Jon had ran his mouth and tongue between your legs. He couldn't quite tell if you were simply surprised by the move, but you almost pleaded his name confused as if you didn't understand what was happening. He had to grab your hand and run it through his curls, both just to be selfish and to give you something to ground yourself with.

Some stories would speak of nectars of the gods, ambrosia created as a paradise to drink but each and every one of such tales was a lie. Jon found the only taste worth fighting for, killing for, dying for, and it was the wetness between your legs as you let Jon drink deep from you. He only intended to give you one, but as soon as you came, Jons blood boiled inside him and his heart pounded at the thought of pulling away just yet. So he gave you another, hardly even focusing on bringing you to second orgasm on purpose, he just couldn't pull away from the taste. He didn't want to.

But laying here and now, there was no denying something else. It wasn't just small healing cuts on your face, it wasn't just fading bruises and old and fresh marks that looked like welts and slashes across your body. It was between your legs too. Bruises yes, cuts and slashes yes, but there was one more thing he could see that night that told him the worst of what he didn't know.

They looked violent and painful, they looked like that of a wild animal going for a brutal kill, but they were no doubt the grotesque indents of a mans teeth sinking into your upper thighs enough Jon knew it would've drawn blood. And there was only one thing that could've been done to a woman to leave marks as such. If that was something a woman would actually want, you were not them.

His jaw clenched in the mere minutes he had been awake, Ramsay had done what Jon suspected were vile, unspeakable things to you. But he was tied between two places. An anger of wanting to lay siege to Winterfell here and now and drag that coward from Jon's home to kill then and there, and another part of him that lay there, wanting to do the opposite. Make you forget whatever he had done, make you feel good, show you that you were allowed to be touched while being loved, and Jon had a hard time seeing passed the fact that you both were already bare, Jon had already fucked you twice, and his cock was hardening against the perfect plush skin of your ass.

His hands moved before he could convince himself to let you sleep. That dark vision in his heart crept up once more into his mind and just as he felt his cock twitch did he let one hand lower to your hip and pulled you back into him. A small grind into your ass, as he felt his breathing pick up, his face leaning down into your neck and moving on his own accord.

Kisses increasing in greed and an intentional sloppiness, Jon felt you stir in your sleep against him and it only made you feel that much better against his cock. Letting his hand slip down, he groaned as he hid his face in your hair to smother the sound from waking you up. You were still a mess, a mixture of your own wetness and traces of Jons seed that hadn't quite spilled deep enough inside you. Tracing his fingertips through your soaked core, it took nothing to drag them up to your clit. Running two fingers tightly against it, before dragging back down to gather more. Switching from rubbing it in every pattern that had your sleeping body grind back into him, and hearing you let out a mumbled whine as he would roll it between his fingers more roughly.

Shaking slightly, Jon leaned slightly more over you, wanting to turn you to him better but knowing the movement would jostle you awake. And Jon wanted you to cum at least once while you were still asleep for him. He was about to wake you up like an animal, so he wanted to do this for you while you were still slumbering peacefully.

You had never been together like this before, he never had you in this manner but all he could see and think last night when he came back was how desperately he needed you. Everything and nearly everyone was lost to him, but you? Jon finally had understood why when some become widows young, they stay that way. Any love after you was something that sounded horrible to him, sounded like nothing which would make him happy the way even being around you made him.

Even now, the small noises barley leaving your sleeping lips, how you leaned back into his touch without knowing Jon was practically defiling you. If this was a one day miracle, and once the night was over he would return to the dead, he would accept it. As long as the day was spent down here, with you.

Your brows furrowed, and Jon just barley sunk his fingers down inside of you to run them back up, soaking your clit once more as he finally leaned down to sink his teeth into your neck. Breathing picking up as he rubbed tight, harsh circles and you shook somewhat in his touch. But it wasn't enough, he knew how beautiful you sounded when you came now, he knew how you looked when you reached your end with his cock deep inside of you.

It wasn't enough, he needed more. As soon as your sleeping eyes fluttered, passing right between the deep pleasured sleep and awake to the world, Jons cock was throbbing against your ass. He knew what your cunt felt like around him now, and he was utterly addicted to it. Barley rasping our your name, he kissed a path to just under your ear and muttered into it, reaching from your clit to your jaw to tilt you somewhat to look back. Your eyes so heavy from sleep you hadn't really opened them, but he muttered anyways.

“Darling, are you going to let me fill you?” A whining hum left your throat as your hands started to move a bit, as if trying to come to the same conclusion of life he previous had. But the sound was so high pitched and yet so quiet and needy it made him growl deep in his chest.

Capturing your lips, you moved so slow to respond but every inch you touched him with screamed as if Jon wanted to walk into a burning pyre just to stay there with you. Gently guiding your lips, Jon's mind growled at him once more. Like the man once again had left and the wolf returned. As if he were two separate entities.

Before the man could overthink how he wanted to slide inside of you slowly, knowing you'd be sensitive from his treatment last night, the wolf in him argued back to just take you harshly now. If Jon weren't so desperate to see your beautiful green eyes fluttering open to look at him, Jon might have felt inclined to flip you over and yank your hips up. Take you as a proper wolf breeds his mate.

Instead, he found a middle ground between being gentle on you, and controlling how hard he also wanted to fuck you. Flipping onto his back, against his strength you weighed practically nothing in his arms to move you. As soon as you lay front across his chest, Jon spared no more time.

Hoisting you up by your hips to sit you upright on top of him. Just as you pleaded his name so beautifully and so quietly as your green eyes met his grey ones, Jon had you shut them right back closed the moment he took charge. His own hands now adding to the mess of bruises forced onto your body he was gripping your hips so tightly, and in one go refusing you any mercy, sunk you down his full length.

Your nails dug into his chest, your face tied between a wince of what was no doubt a burning stretch, and a conflicted desire of pleasure fighting against how sleepy you were. But Jon, didn't make it any better. As soon as he felt your walls relax around his cock, Jon once more used his strength against you.

Only letting you rise about halfway off his cock before Jon would force your hips to slam right back down. His head thrown back at first, a deep groan unbecoming of him left so easily from his lips as he continued to bounce you on his cock. It wasn't quite rough at first, but then he opened his eyes again, looked back and could see where he was sinking in and out of you. The force making the air fill with an obscene slap of skin, and another groan deeper almost left as Jon begun to force your hips down harder and harder.

Part of him was almost angry at first. The last time he had seen you bare, was in his chambers in Winterfell and you were a dream. You weren't a tiny girl of nothing like so many dainty highborn girls were expected to look, but you weren't all firm and muscle either. No, you were soft, plush. Perfect for his large, greedy hands to find any and everywhere to grab onto. A kind of plushness that begged to be pounded into so he could watch the force ripple along.

The Boltons had clearly been starving you. You were not the same soft girl he dreamed of, and even beyond the marks left over you, whatever strength you built up at war had wilted away and you were nothing like what you were. Too small in too many places, and you didn't look the same girl full of life and pleasure as before. They had kept you thin to keep you weak.

And Jon hated it.

Grey eyes closing even despite how perfect it was to watch his cock disappear into your soaking core, a thought tore through him. You must have looked like you descended from the gods themselves while you were with child. He shouldn't be, it was entirely ill placed to feel it here, but part of Jon felt so jealous that Robb got to fuck you while you were pregnant. The months that had passed since he saw you in that vision, and a dream of your death, you'd have no longer been able to really hide how much you were showing. Maybe something long and extra flowing could cover it up to the passing eye, but he growled just as his cock throbbed fucking you down onto it.

One hand rose up from your hip, running along your arm to the side of your face and raking through part of your hair, you meekly grabbed onto that wrist as you could barley keep your eyes open. Just as you were barley letting such beautiful sounds overtake you. You just let Jon fuck you up and down his cock, muscles loosening as it made you so much more pliable. Head falling forward, your mouth parted in a silent but needing cry he could see. Jaw clenched, Jon found both your hips again and dragged you down onto him harder.

Slap after slap did your skin together echo in the cold air, how warm you were around him, how utterly tight you were every time he lifted you even the slightest bit off his cock. Only to force you right back down and the sound blessed his ears. He could hear how soaking wet you were with every fuck, so he moved you not harder this time, but faster. Addicted to the sound he needed it just as much as he needed air.

Grey eyes scoured every inch of you, lips, neck, breasts, scar just like his. Jon in tandem to bouncing you on him, did he begun to meet where he moved you. Fucking up into you just as he pulled you down, desperate to sink as deep as he could even when you both were as connected as you ever were graced to be. A loud cry left you the moment Jon started to thrust up into you.

Nails digging into his upper chest, your mouth agape trying to breathe but he stole it all way each time he sunk you deep again, dragging along a wall inside you that had your thighs shaking around him. A growling begun to leave him each and every pound, a hiss at your nails that he wanted more and more of carving into his skin, groaning whatever left his mouth of how perfect you felt around him, Jon knew he was about to start running his mouth.

But enough sense was still in him to stop it, or at the least, smother it. Surging upward, you grasped his shoulders as Jon kept you bouncing in his lap. Hands now at your waist but his eyes were a shining wide open watching you as his hot breath danced across you. He needed to shut up and do it now, otherwise he would say something he regretted. He'd say something more of then just your cunt around his cock.

Jon was about to shock himself, had he not done anything about it. Almost letting slip that he was going to keep you here, keep you on his cock, spill inside of you as long as it took to fill you with his child. It startled him. It truly did, the possessive thought coming from nowhere, Jon knew he was about to demand you let him get you pregnant and he knew this wasn't normal.

So he shifted to press a hand against your back to force your chest up, let him bury his face in your breasts as his other hand forced you to keep his rough pace. Mouth taking the small bud of your breast into his mouth, almost nibbling at it before biting down more. A loud cry left you, one hand finding itself raked deep in his curls, as your head fell backward. Biting and kissing what he could each, Jon barley let himself leave one breast until it first shined from his lips, and he could see the indents of his teeth bruising.

Moving to the other, Jon returned both hands to your waist, forcing you down with a growl leaving his baring teeth with how you just let him take you. You moved with him, but never against him, never taking any control, you just held onto him and let Jon fuck you. Closer and closer he could feel you becoming as well.

Clenching tightly around his cock, stuttering cries left you. “Gods, I- Oh Jon, please...” More and more his name left your lips and he was so thankful when you came around him. Forcing his cock to thrust itself up deeper to reach as soaking deep as you let him, beacuse a mighty groan left Jon.

Hidden by his mouth and teeth against your chest, but as your walls fluttered around him, did Jon throb inside of you. In an instant as he slurred your name, Jon felt himself cum. Keeping you bouncing shallow on top of him but so very deep, Jons head dropped, hands moving without the ability to watch from his closed eyes. It felt even better then last night, spilling deeply inside of you, it felt so much better which he hadn't thought possible.

Filling you with his cum, knowing what he had to offer you was thick. Thick and there was so much of it, Jons body burned too hot around him as he filled you with his seed. He had never come so much before last night and right now, never. It was as if however long your orgasm had you wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders to ride along those waves, did Jon spill inside you.

He wasn't even done, just like the night before, Jon almost didn't understand why he hadn't even lost a hint of how hard his cock was. As soon as the thought hit him, Jon looked back up to your beautiful face, almost innocent in how must pleasure Jon was giving you as if brand new to you. You were so perfect to him, you didn't endlessly talk or run your mouth. You begged for him just as he needed you too instead of mocking him or insulting him.

You let Jon bounce you on his cock at his pace, at his control. You let him do the work and he couldn't be more happy for it, you let him fuck you at his mercy and begged his name so sweetly. It wasn't fair he had to die to get this, that you died before you two could share this.

Jon almost couldn't even lie to himself long enough to finish when it was her. He barley could make it through a single act without forcing his eyes shut and mind away just to stay hard the whole time. But with you? Jon felt out of his mind. He was so hard both last night and now, and three times now he's spilled so deeply inside of you.

Something he had adamantly denied in any way to her. She'd mock him for it, asking if he was scared or something and he could remember hating it. Of course he was, if he was too scared to fuck the beautiful girl who was the only one he's ever loved, beacuse he didn't want to accidentally get you pregnant, he sure as hell wasn't doing anything to give her that chance.

The baby he'd see in his mind had your eyes after all. Yours. Not hers.

So as soon as the thought came to Jon, he once more hid his mouth against biting and kissing your breasts just to smother the chance of saying it. Had he given his mind the free range to speak as whatever the hot blooded wolf was screaming, Jon would've told you with every conviction that you weren't allowed to leave his cock until he got you pregnant. That he'd roll you back over, hover over you, tie your hands together around the iron bars to keep you from trying to get him to ease up.

How much Jon wanted to shove your legs wide apart, maybe if he was desperate enough, he'd lift you to your feet. Press you against the bars, tie your hands above your head to them, and tie each leg to a separate bar, legs spread enough for Jon to sink his cock inside of you endlessly. Something possessive and feral inside of him refused to give up the image.

The wolf taking over what of Jon was still a man, screamed at him to breed you. Fill you with his pups and as soon as you're ready, do it again and again. He fucked up into you rougher trying to fight back against that side of him from taking over. But it tried and tried to come out. Jons family was gone, so he needed to spill inside of you here and now until you were pregnant, start a pack of his own with his cock sunk deep inside of you. He'd keep you tied up until Jon knew it took, he'd refuse anyone to come anywhere near here until he was sure.

And then, he'd spill inside of you a few more times still, for good measure. Just to be safe.

But he didn't say that, didn't do any of that. Just fucked you down onto his cock, breasts would've jostled had Jon not kept you so tightly against him. His breathing picked up as did your cries. His eyes raising to find yours, cupping your cheek with a hand and finally letting go of your waist and his control, to cup the other side of your face.

“Give me another..I want another. Cum for me, please darling, cum for me right here. I can feel you clenching around me, I know you need too. Cum again for me, please..” Your eyes blown out, mouth parted, you nodded. No words left in you, he had fucked them all out into silence, but he pulled your lips to his anyways.

Deepening the kiss as his thrusts moves shallow compared to you moreso writing on him then feeling confident enough to move up and down as he made you. Biting your bottom lip, Jon slid his tongue inside your mouth. Brushing your own tongue and he wondered if you'd let him taste you all over again here and now. Barley leaving your kiss, let alone your mouth and tongue long enough for you to mumble against him

Pleading his name, you sought his grey eyes and drowned in them. Barley managing a breathless beg just as you clenched around him. Jon wrapped a hand through the hair at the back of your head as the other grabbed at your hip, once more fucking up into you as he pulled you down on him.

If Jon were a worse man, he'd say damn it all, and just get you pregnant here and now before your gentle insecurity could say anything against it. He'd spill and spill inside you and then everyone up in the real world would know Jons claim on you was serious.

Your orgasm washed through you just as it overcame him. Hiding his head in your neck, Jon forced you to sit deep on his cock. Throbbing hot until he growled your name, spilling deeply inside of you for a fourth time in the hours he's been alive again.

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but as Jon filled you, all he could think was, gods he hoped it took.

But as you both finally could begin to breathe again, your heads both rising up to gently seek the others eyes as both of you almost panted trying to get air again, Jon ran a hand down the hair at the back of your head. Because the man in him knew, you were running out of time.

Sooner or later, Jon would have to emerge to his brothers, and face the reality that a man they all knew was murdered, now stood alive as any of them. And Jon didn't feel any sort of good about what they were going to start saying about it. About you.

Leaning forward, Jon was tender in his kiss. Keeping you close but not overwhelming you finally, he pulled back to press another to your nose and a third against your forehead. A small whisper on his lips, “I told you I'd still be here, darling. I promised you.”

Nodding gently, he pulled back to look at you again and this time, burying in each others embrace rather then needy in a kiss. He wouldn't pull you off of him until he was ready to even start to redress, so for now, you both kept in the others arms.

Trying to ignore the reality of how you both had died, and how neither of you were dead any loner.

[zahri-melitor]

Yeah no I'm still not cool with the pet situation. A character's pet is for the animal's life, not for [one emotional scene].

Titus makes sense. There have been several generations of Ace the Bat-Hound over the decades. There was at least one when Dick was Robin. There's another when Tim is a young Robin, back in Knightfall era (he hid out in the tunnels with Harold while JPV was Azbats!)

Bruce, trying to win Damian's affection and teach him how to connect and bond with others, to give him a responsibility and someone who will love him unconditionally, getting Damian a dog? Makes 100% sense. He clearly thinks kids should have a dog, they're set up to have a dog, they're familiar with having a dog, particularly large working breeds that protect the property.

And Tomasi & Gleason use Titus several times, in several different comics in the run, for emotional beats.

Alfred the Cat exists entirely for the emotional beat of Alfred giving Damian a cat that swipes at him, then Damian in the next comic 'winning' the cat's affection while feeding him and playing with him, showing as a character the cat (and by parallel Damian) has changed in his time at the Manor. I get the comparison. It's cute, but I don't see the point in doing this immediately before killing Damian, particularly when Titus, who was established earlier, is right there in the scene and doing...nothing.

A similar moment of Damian appearing like a child playing with his puppy and looking innocent could have occurred, and it would feel less like Damian's affection is hoarding and transitive - he can only care about his latest animal, the earlier ones are present but forgotten in the glee for more and newer pets.

Batcow is completely superfluous beyond being a visual joke. Nothing about her holds up in any way.

"Sure, you can keep the cow," says Bruce through his gritted teeth, because he wants his son to like him and not run back to Talia. Despite that being a plot point well established as not likely to happen, as we've been over it before during Reborn and Damian rejected Talia and the League of Assassins, and we're at the start of a story where Damian's going to choose to go to his mother to save Gotham while the rest of the family are desperately trying to protect him from having to face her, because they're worried she'll kill him/end the world.

"Sure, we can have a cow living in the Cave. It's not like we know any farmers with superstrength and flight who could take a meat-raised cow off our hands and care for it in better circumstances, who you could still visit occasionally."

[iraot]

request by @daiyanna-art >3< word count: genre: smut, romance, some fluff warnings: mxm intimacy, throuple, breeding kink, mentions of a child, abo, characters: xavier x caleb x rose (oc)

The living room was bathed in the golden light of the floor lamp, casting soft shadows against the walls. The air carried the lingering scent of the slow-cooked roast Rose had made for dinner, mingled with the faint trace of Caleb’s cologne and Xavier’s crisp, clean scent. Their son, barely over a year old, was cradled against Rose’s chest, his tiny fingers curled loosely in sleep, his steady breaths warm against her skin. Xavier sat beside them on the couch, his arm stretched lazily along the back, fingers occasionally brushing the soft fabric of Rose’s sweater, while Caleb leaned against the doorway, watching them with his usual sharp intensity.

“I want a baby with you too.” Xavier’s voice was calm, steady, but there was an undeniable weight behind it, a confession that had been sitting heavy in his chest for too long. His blue eyes flicked down to the sleeping child in Rose’s arms, his expression softening in a way it rarely did. “I love him—I do. But I want to experience that with you. I want a child that’s ours.”

Rose blinked at him, lips parting slightly in surprise before she let out a quiet laugh. “Well, damn, you could’ve just said that, Xavier,” she teased, shifting her weight slightly to adjust their son’s position. “I thought you were leading up to something serious, like—‘Rose, I’ve decided to quit society and live in a cave’—or ‘Rose, I’m shaving my head and taking a vow of silence.’”

Xavier rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement behind them as he ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “You act like I wouldn’t look good bald,” he muttered, smirking as he leaned in closer, his fingers grazing the back of her neck. “But I’m serious, Rose. I want this.”

Before Rose could respond, Caleb pushed off the doorway with a dramatic sigh, his heavy footfalls echoing slightly against the hardwood floor as he crossed the room. “Okay, wait a damn minute—what if I want another first?” he asked, dropping onto the couch beside Rose with the familiar weight of his body pressing close. His large hand landed possessively on her thigh, his violet eyes locking onto Xavier with a glint of challenge.

Rose barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, shifting their son more securely against her. “Caleb, you already got to go first,” she pointed out, giving him a look that was half exasperation, half amused affection. “Xavier’s been patient. It’s only fair that he gets to go next.”

Xavier hummed, stretching his arms out behind his head as if relishing his victory. “See? Even Rose agrees,” he said, his smirk widening as he turned to Caleb with a look that was just a little too smug. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna pout about this.”

Caleb scoffed, jaw tightening slightly, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him. “I don’t pout,” he grumbled, though the way his grip tightened on Rose’s thigh suggested otherwise. His fingers tapped against the soft fabric of her leggings, a slow, thoughtful rhythm. “I just think maybe we should… revisit the discussion later.”

Rose let out a long-suffering sigh, adjusting her hold on their son as he stirred slightly in her arms. “You two are impossible,” she muttered, though there was an undeniable warmth in her tone. She glanced at Caleb, watching the way his fingers flexed against her leg, then at Xavier, who was practically radiating satisfaction. “Fine, Caleb. What if I told you there’s a way for you to get something out of this deal too?”

That got Caleb’s attention. His sharp gaze flicked to her, suspicion darkening his features. “I’m listening,” he said slowly, his voice edged with caution. He never agreed to anything without knowing all the details—especially when Xavier was involved.

Xavier chuckled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, purposely cryptic, just to get under Caleb’s skin. He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to Rose’s temple before pushing himself off the couch, stretching with an exaggerated yawn. “Right now, we should probably get dinner going before this little guy wakes up hungry.”

Caleb watched him go, his fingers still absently tracing circles on Rose’s thigh. His expression was unreadable for a moment before he finally exhaled, shaking his head. “I don’t know whether to be intrigued or concerned,” he muttered. His violet eyes flicked back to Rose, studying her with the same intensity he always did. “But fine. I’ll play along… for now.”

Rose just smiled, knowing full well that before the night was over, they’d come to an agreement—one way or another.

The air in the living room was warm, thick with something unspoken, something lingering just beneath the surface. The scent of home-cooked food still clung to the space, mingling with the familiar mix of their scents—Rose’s soft, floral sweetness, Xavier’s crisp, clean musk, and Caleb’s heavier, spiced presence that always seemed to command attention. Their son had been put to bed hours ago, and now, with the quiet hum of the night settling over the house, Xavier had finally voiced what had been on his mind for months.

“I want a baby with you too.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Rose turned to him, blue eyes widening slightly before her lips curved into an amused smile. She was curled up comfortably on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of her sweater. “Well, damn, Xavier,” she teased, shifting so she could rest her elbow on the armrest, propping her chin against her palm. “I thought you were about to drop something heavy on me, like moving to the mountains to live off the land or finally admitting you like reality TV.”

Xavier rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of amusement in them, his arm draped along the back of the couch, fingers brushing against her shoulder. “I’m serious,” he murmured, his gaze flicking toward the baby monitor sitting on the coffee table. The quiet static was the only indication that their son was still fast asleep in his crib. “I love him, but I want to experience that with you too. I want a child that’s mine.”

Rose’s teasing expression softened, her hand reaching for his, fingers lacing together in an easy, familiar way. “I’d love that,” she admitted, her voice warm, honest. “I think you’d be an amazing father, Xavier.”

Before Xavier could respond, a low scoff cut through the moment.

“Okay, hold on—what if I want another first?”

Caleb pushed off the doorway, his heavy footsteps barely muffled against the hardwood floor as he strode toward them. His violet eyes, sharp and unreadable, locked onto Xavier as he dropped onto the couch beside Rose, his broad frame taking up more space than necessary. His arm stretched across the back, mirroring Xavier’s position, his fingers grazing against Rose’s shoulder as if to remind them both that he was still there. “I mean, not to sound greedy or anything,” he added, his tone lazy, but there was something deeper beneath it, something that made Xavier’s jaw tighten. “But I kind of like the idea of another kid too.”

Rose let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she glanced between the two of them. “Caleb, you already had the first turn,” she pointed out, raising a brow. “Xavier’s been patient—it’s only fair that he goes next.”

Xavier leaned back slightly, stretching his legs out in front of him as he smirked in Caleb’s direction. “See? Even Rose agrees,” he said, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Don’t tell me you’re about to throw a tantrum over this.”

Caleb’s jaw twitched, his fingers flexing against Rose’s thigh, where his hand had settled possessively. “I don’t throw tantrums,” he muttered, though the slight downward curve of his lips suggested otherwise. “I just think we should… discuss our options.”

Rose tilted her head, watching him with something between amusement and curiosity. “Oh? And what would those options be?”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off some invisible weight before finally turning fully toward Xavier. He studied him for a moment, his gaze flicking over his features—his sharp jawline, his too-pretty blue eyes, the way his smirk always teetered on the edge of infuriating. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs, his voice lower now, edged with something raw.

“I’ll let you go next,” he said, smirking slightly, “but I want something in return.”

Xavier arched a brow, his expression wary, but his body language remained loose, controlled. “Yeah? And what exactly do you want, Caleb?”

The way Caleb looked at him then—steady, unflinching—sent something crawling up Xavier’s spine, something he wasn’t sure he had the words for. It wasn’t just a challenge, it wasn't just some game between them. It was something that had been hanging between them for years, thick in the air, lingering in the spaces between words, between glances, between moments when their rivalry blurred into something else entirely.

Caleb’s lips parted, his voice quieter now, more certain. “You.”

Xavier blinked, his smirk faltering for just a second before it was back, sharper now, tinged with something defensive. “You want me?” he repeated, his tone hovering between amusement and disbelief, as if Caleb had just suggested something absolutely ridiculous.

Caleb let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Don’t act surprised,” he murmured, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles against Rose’s thigh, almost absentmindedly. “I think we both know this has been coming for a while.”

Rose inhaled slowly, her gaze flicking between them, taking in the way Xavier had gone slightly rigid, the way Caleb was watching him, waiting. She had noticed it before—the way their arguments always carried too much heat, the way they gravitated toward each other even when they didn’t realize it. And now, watching them acknowledge it, finally saying it out loud, made something warm bloom in her chest.

“You’ve thought about this,” Xavier finally said, his voice quieter, more serious now. It wasn’t a question.

Caleb’s smirk softened slightly, though his eyes remained intense. “More than I probably should have,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But I think you have too.”

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy, stretching longer than it should have. Xavier’s fingers tapped against his thigh, the only indication that he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted to seem. He wanted to scoff, to roll his eyes, to brush it off like he did with everything else Caleb threw his way. But there was something in the air, something crackling, something impossible to ignore.

After what felt like a lifetime, Xavier finally exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice resigned, almost exasperated, but not quite.

The moment the word left his mouth, something shifted. The energy in the room changed, thickened, deepened. Caleb’s smirk curled wider, but there was no gloating, no teasing—just an acknowledgment of something inevitable. Rose grinned, her fingers brushing over Xavier’s knuckles, grounding him, steadying him.

“Well,” she said, her voice warm, teasing, but full of something else, something knowing. “That only took forever.”

–

The bedroom was dim, the bedside lamp casting a golden glow that stretched shadows long across the walls. The scent of Rose’s perfume still clung to the sheets, mingling with the deeper, muskier traces of Xavier and Caleb—familiar, intoxicating, suffocating in the best way. The air was heavy, thick with something unspoken, something neither of them had wanted to name before now. The conversation from earlier had left something raw between them, something unsettled, and even though none of them had directly addressed it since, it hadn’t gone away.

Rose sat in the oversized chair near the window, her legs curled beneath her, an open book resting against her lap—forgotten. Her gaze flickered between them, quiet but keen, watching the way Caleb moved through the space, the way Xavier sat stiffly at the edge of the bed, tension coiling in his shoulders. She knew neither of them would say anything unless they were forced to. They’d circle and taunt and provoke, but neither would be the first to admit what had been hanging between them for years. That was fine. She had all the time in the world.

Caleb pulled his shirt over his head, the movement slow, deliberate, and tossed it onto the chair in the corner. His muscles shifted under the warm light, his broad frame taking up more space than necessary, his scent curling through the air like something invasive. He was watching Xavier, but not in the usual way—not with irritation or challenge, not with the lingering amusement that always edged their arguments. This was something heavier. Something certain.

“You’ve been quiet,” Caleb said, his voice a low rumble, rough around the edges. “That’s not like you.”

Xavier scoffed, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake something off. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”

Rose let out a quiet hum from her chair, tilting her head as she traced the corner of her book with a lazy finger. “That’s a lie,” she murmured, the amusement in her voice unmistakable.

Xavier shot her a sharp glance, his blue eyes narrowing slightly, but she only smiled, unbothered. He wanted to argue—wanted to snap something back at her just to shift the attention away from himself—but he couldn’t. She was right, and they all knew it.

Caleb exhaled through his nose, stepping closer, his gaze locked onto Xavier’s. “You gonna pretend you didn’t feel that earlier?” he asked, voice quieter now, but more intense. “That you haven’t thought about it?”

Xavier’s fingers twitched where they rested against his knee. He wanted to roll his eyes, wanted to scoff again, to shove Caleb back with some sharp remark that would end this conversation before it went anywhere. But he didn’t. He didn’t because the truth sat too heavy between them, because the moment Caleb had said it earlier—I want you—Xavier hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Rose shifted in her chair, the fabric of her robe rustling softly as she tucked her legs beneath her. “He’s right, you know,” she said, watching the way Xavier’s body remained taut, the way his jaw twitched. “You have thought about it. Just admit it.”

Xavier’s lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze flicked toward Caleb, and fuck, the way the other Alpha was looking at him—steady, unshaken, knowing—made something curl hot and restless in his gut.

“Fuck off,” Xavier muttered, but his voice lacked any real bite.

Caleb’s smirk deepened. “That’s not a no,” he murmured, stepping even closer, close enough that Xavier could feel the heat of him, close enough that their scents were tangling in the air, thick and heady.

Rose leaned forward slightly, resting her chin against her hand, her eyes flicking between them. “You two have spent years acting like this was just rivalry,” she mused, voice smooth, knowing. “But it was never just that, was it?”

Caleb hummed, tilting his head slightly, considering. “No,” he admitted, gaze never leaving Xavier’s. “It wasn’t.”

Xavier inhaled sharply, his throat tight. He knew he should move, should put distance between them, should end this before it unraveled into something he couldn’t take back. But he didn’t. Caleb was too close, his scent too thick, his presence too much.

Caleb leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice so it was barely more than a breath between them. “Say it,” he murmured. “Say you haven’t thought about it.”

Xavier clenched his jaw, but the way Caleb was looking at him—like he was already inside his head, already pulling apart the excuses Xavier had spent years convincing himself were true—made it impossible to lie. He met Caleb’s gaze, unflinching, his fingers flexing against the bedspread like he was grounding himself. “I hate you,” he muttered, but it came out quieter than he wanted, rough at the edges, unraveling.

Caleb let out a low chuckle, his fingers twitching at his side, like he was resisting the urge to reach out. “No, you don’t,” he murmured. His voice was softer now, but somehow heavier, more certain.

Xavier swallowed hard, his pulse hammering against his ribs. He could feel Rose watching them, her gaze warm and patient, like she had been waiting for this moment for longer than either of them had realized. She didn’t look surprised. If anything, she looked pleased.

“You’re both so damn stubborn,” Rose sighed, shaking her head as she stretched out in her chair, the silk of her robe slipping slightly over her bare thigh. “Just do something already.”

Xavier’s breath hitched slightly, and fuck, he shouldn’t be this affected, shouldn’t be sitting here like some uncertain thing waiting for someone else to decide for him. But Caleb was still watching him, still right there, still waiting.

Caleb lifted his chin slightly, voice quieter now, more deliberate. “You want me to prove it to you?”

Xavier exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the edge of the mattress. His body was still coiled with tension, but it wasn’t just resistance anymore. It was anticipation.

Rose smirked. “God, finally,” she murmured, sinking deeper into her chair, utterly content to watch it all unfold.

Xavier’s breath was shallow, his fingers pressing into the mattress like it was the only thing keeping him tethered. Caleb was too close—towering over him, heat radiating from his body like a wildfire, scent thick in the air, dominant and intoxicating. There had always been tension between them, always been something simmering beneath the surface of their rivalry, but this was different. This was inevitable.

Rose shifted in her chair, stretching like a satisfied cat, completely at ease despite the thick, unspoken energy pulsing between the two men in front of her. She had always known—always seen the way they moved around each other, the way their fights lasted longer than necessary, the way they felt too much for it to just be competition. And now, watching them, watching this, she knew they were finally seeing it too.

Xavier’s jaw clenched as he looked up at Caleb, his breath coming faster despite himself. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, his voice rough, strained.

Caleb huffed a quiet laugh, his smirk sharp. “Bad ideas usually feel the best.”

Xavier glared at him, but the usual bite wasn’t there. His body was betraying him, instincts battling logic in real time, muscles tense, coiled tight, ready. The primal part of him wanted to snap, wanted to push and pull until Caleb had to earn whatever it was he thought he could take. But then there was the other part of him—the one that had never admitted what this really was, the one that had spent years brushing off the way his pulse kicked up every time they got too close.

Rose hummed, amusement threading through her voice as she watched them, fingers idly stroking the silk of her robe. “You can try and fight it, Xavier, but we all know how this ends.”

Xavier shot her a glare, but she only smiled, tilting her head in that knowing way that made something tighten in his chest. He wasn’t scared, not of Caleb, not of this—but the weight of it, the implications, dug into him like claws. He had spent his whole life fitting into roles he hadn’t chosen—Alpha, protector, provider. And here, with his family, with her, he had found something solid, something real. Caleb was part of that, in his own way, but this… this could unravel everything if they weren’t careful.

Caleb must have seen the flicker of hesitation in his expression, because his smirk faded just slightly. He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head as he studied Xavier, something sharp and unreadable in his violet eyes. “You think this changes anything?” he murmured, quieter now, the teasing edge slipping away. “You think I’d let it?”

Xavier’s chest rose and fell with a slow, measured breath, his fingers flexing against the sheets. “We have a family,” he muttered, voice low but firm. “I won’t let anything fuck that up.”

Caleb’s gaze softened, but his presence didn’t waver—if anything, he stepped closer, close enough that Xavier could feel every shift in his breathing, every ripple of tension in his muscles. “Neither would I,” he said simply. And the way he said it, so sure, so unshaken, made something cold in Xavier’s gut finally ease.

Rose sighed, stretching out her legs, watching them like they were the most fascinating thing in the world. “You two are so dramatic,” she murmured, her lips curving into a slow smirk. “Just fuck already.”

Xavier groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus, Rose.”

Caleb chuckled, his smirk returning, but there was something different behind it now—something darker, something hungry. “She’s not wrong.”

Xavier didn’t get a chance to reply before Caleb moved, closing the space between them in a heartbeat, grabbing Xavier’s wrist in a firm grip. The air cracked around them, something primal roaring to the surface, something they had both been keeping buried for too long. Xavier’s breath hitched—fuck—because this wasn’t just tension anymore. This was real.

His body reacted before his mind could catch up, instincts flaring, muscles tensing as his free hand shoved against Caleb’s chest. But Caleb barely moved, barely even flinched, and the way he looked down at Xavier, like he had already won, sent something hot and sharp through his veins.

Rose’s gaze darkened, her thighs shifting as she leaned forward slightly. “God, I love watching you two fight,” she murmured.

Caleb smirked, his grip tightening just slightly. “Not fighting this time.”

Xavier knew he had a choice. He could push back, keep denying it, keep pretending like this wasn’t something that had been building for years. Or he could let it happen. Let himself want.

His lips parted, breath shaky, but before he could say a word, Caleb leaned in, his voice low, almost a growl. “Let me prove it to you.”

Xavier’s pulse roared in his ears. He should say no. He should.

But he didn’t.

Caleb could feel Xavier’s pulse beneath his fingers, the way it pounded fast and uneven at his wrist, the tension still brimming beneath his skin. If he pushed too hard, too fast, Xavier would fight back—out of instinct, out of pride, out of fear of what this meant. Caleb didn’t want that. He didn’t want this to be another battle, another contest of will and dominance, because it wasn’t. It never had been.

So he didn’t lunge. Didn’t crash into him the way his instincts begged him to, didn’t force the moment to spiral into something frantic and desperate. Instead, he leaned in slowly, giving Xavier time to react, time to pull away if he really wanted to. When he didn’t, Caleb’s lips brushed against his—soft, deliberate, patient.

Xavier tensed, his body coiled tight like a spring, as if he was still deciding whether to shove Caleb away or pull him in closer. But Caleb didn’t rush. He let his lips move gently against Xavier’s, coaxing rather than taking, his hand still wrapped around Xavier’s wrist, not holding him down, just holding.

“You don’t have to fight me,” Caleb murmured, his breath warm against Xavier’s lips. “Not this time.”

Xavier’s chest rose and fell in a shuddering breath, his fingers twitching against the bedspread. He was still stiff beneath Caleb’s touch, like every muscle in his body was caught in the middle of resisting something inevitable. “I’m not fighting,” he muttered, but the words lacked their usual bite.

Caleb huffed a quiet laugh, tilting his head slightly, his lips barely grazing Xavier’s. “Yeah, you are,” he said, his voice quieter now, softer. “I can feel it.”

Xavier exhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment like he was trying to block something out. His free hand curled into the sheets at his side, knuckles white, like he was grounding himself. But when Caleb’s lips pressed against his again—just as soft, just as patient—he didn’t pull away.

Caleb shifted, pressing in just a little more, his fingers loosening around Xavier’s wrist, sliding up to his forearm instead, a slow, reassuring touch. He could feel the tension humming in Xavier’s body, the way he was still strung tight, the way his instincts were at war with something deeper, something that had always been there between them.

“I know this is different,” Caleb murmured, his lips brushing the corner of Xavier’s mouth as he spoke. “I know it’s us… but I don’t want to take anything from you.” His fingers trailed up Xavier’s arm, slow and steady, feeling the warmth of his skin, the way his breath hitched slightly at the contact. “I just want you.”

Xavier’s fingers flexed against the sheets, his throat working as he swallowed hard. He opened his eyes then, finally meeting Caleb’s gaze, something uncertain flickering behind that sharp blue. “I don’t…” He hesitated, lips parting like the words were stuck there, like he wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

Caleb’s thumb traced a slow line over the inside of his wrist, grounding him. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, voice steady. “Just feel it.”

Xavier’s breath hitched, his pupils blown wide, something restless flickering behind his gaze. His pride, his stubbornness, his walls—they were all still there, but there was something else now too. Something that made his lips part just slightly as Caleb leaned in again, his touch deliberate, his kiss slow and searching, giving Xavier every chance to pull away.

But he didn’t.

Xavier inhaled sharply through his nose, and then, finally, finally, he kissed him back.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic—it was hesitant at first, like he was still testing the weight of this, still figuring out if he could let himself want it. Caleb matched his pace, let him set the rhythm, didn’t push, didn’t take—just gave, his fingers skimming along Xavier’s jaw, coaxing him deeper into it.

From her chair, Rose watched them with something warm and knowing in her gaze, her lips curling into the faintest smile. She didn’t interrupt, didn’t tease—she just watched, waiting for them to find their way through it.

Xavier finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against Caleb’s, his breaths uneven. “This doesn’t change anything,” he muttered, but it was weak, like he was already trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Caleb’s lips quirked, his thumb brushing along Xavier’s jaw. “Doesn’t it?” he murmured, and this time, Xavier didn’t have an answer.

Caleb felt it the moment Xavier let go—not entirely, not completely, but enough. Enough for his lips to press back with intent, for his fingers to twitch against Caleb’s side, hesitant but there. Caleb deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate, tasting Xavier like he had all the time in the world.

Xavier’s breath hitched as Caleb’s hand traced a slow path down his side, fingertips grazing the hem of his shirt. There was still resistance in the way Xavier held himself, but it was crumbling, peeling away in layers with each lingering press of their lips. Caleb didn’t push, just coaxed, letting the warmth of his touch speak where words didn’t fit.

Rose shifted in her chair, her thighs pressing together as she watched, completely entranced. The way they moved, the way they touched, it was like something had been waiting to happen for years, simmering just beneath the surface. She had always known, but seeing it unfold before her—seeing Xavier finally accept—was more intoxicating than she had imagined.

Caleb’s fingers slipped beneath Xavier’s shirt, the heat of his palm meeting bare skin, and he swallowed Xavier’s soft, surprised inhale with another kiss. “You’re warm,” he murmured against his lips, voice low, reverent, his hand splaying against the small of Xavier’s back. “Better than I imagined.”

Xavier huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no bite to it, no attempt to shove Caleb away this time. “You imagined this?” he muttered, though the way he was already shifting to help Caleb push his shirt higher betrayed his feigned disbelief. “Thought you were supposed to be the blunt one.”

Caleb chuckled, dragging his mouth along Xavier’s jaw, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to his throat. “Didn’t think you were ready to hear it before,” he admitted, his teeth grazing lightly against the sensitive skin there. “Didn’t think I was.”

Xavier exhaled sharply, tilting his head back slightly, giving Caleb just a little more room to explore. His hands, once hesitant, finally moved—one gripping Caleb’s shoulder, the other sliding down his spine, nails lightly scraping along heated skin. The sensation sent a shiver through Caleb, his restraint teetering on a knife’s edge.

Rose let out a quiet, breathy sigh, shifting again in her chair, fingers gripping the armrest as she drank in the sight of them. “God, I love this,” she murmured, more to herself than either of them, though they both heard her. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you two to stop being so damn stubborn.”

Caleb grinned against Xavier’s skin before lifting his head, glancing over his shoulder at Rose. “Enjoying the show?” he teased, voice husky, amused, his hand slipping lower along Xavier’s back. “Or jealous you’re not in the middle of it?”

Rose smirked, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as her eyes flickered between them. “Both,” she admitted, her gaze settling on Xavier, dark with something deeper, something approving. “But I think I’d rather watch you worship him first.”

Xavier let out a slow breath, something tight unraveling in his chest at her words, at the way Caleb was looking at him—like he was something to be touched, something to be revered. His concerns, his logic, the weight of everything outside this room all felt distant, fogged over by the heat pooling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if this was about wanting or just needing—but right now, he didn’t care.

Caleb’s hands moved with a kind of patience that had nothing to do with restraint and everything to do with savoring. He peeled Xavier’s shirt off slowly, dragging his palms over firm muscle, mapping every inch as if memorizing him by touch alone. “Been wanting to take my time with you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Xavier’s shoulder, breath warm against his skin.

Xavier let out a shaky exhale, rolling his eyes even as his body shivered beneath Caleb’s hands. “Dramatic,” he muttered, though his voice lacked any real resistance. “Not dying, Caleb.”

Caleb smirked, lips grazing over his collarbone as he nudged him back toward the bed, guiding rather than demanding. “Let me have this,” he whispered, his hands settling at Xavier’s waist, thumbs pressing slow, soothing circles against his hips. “Let me see you.”

Xavier hesitated, just for a second, his fingers flexing against Caleb’s biceps like he was still fighting some internal battle. But then he exhaled again, tension easing, and let himself sink into the moment. “Fine,” he murmured, breath unsteady, gaze locked onto Caleb’s as he let the last of his walls crumble. “Take your time.”

Rose let out a quiet moan of approval, shifting in her chair as the weight of the moment settled over all three of them. Caleb grinned, slow and knowing, before leaning in again, pressing a kiss over Xavier’s heart.

“I plan to.”

Caleb took his time, trailing his lips down Xavier’s chest, tasting the warmth of his skin, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses over each ridge of muscle. His movements were deliberate, reverent—worshipful in a way that made Xavier’s breath stutter, his body tensing before slowly unraveling beneath the attention. Every kiss, every gentle scrape of teeth, felt like another brick pulled from the wall Xavier had spent years fortifying.

Rose watched from the chair, her lips parted, breath coming just a little quicker as she traced slow circles over the inside of her own thigh. The way Caleb moved, the way his mouth lingered, was the same way he touched her—but now, seeing him like this with Xavier, it was something different, something deeper. There was no rush, no conquering—just unraveling, piece by piece, one kiss at a time.

Caleb’s tongue flicked over Xavier’s nipple, teasing, testing, and when Xavier’s breath hitched, when a soft, unguarded sound escaped him, Caleb felt it like a pulse of heat in his gut. His violet eyes flicked up immediately, locking onto Xavier’s face, reading every flicker of expression, every breathy exhale. And then, with the same slow, deliberate pace, he did it again, circling his tongue over the sensitive bud before sucking lightly, his hands sliding lower, mapping new territory.

Xavier shuddered, fingers twitching against Caleb’s shoulders, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. He shouldn’t be this sensitive, shouldn’t be reacting this much, but Caleb’s mouth—his hands, his patience—made him feel raw, open in a way that wasn’t just physical. His lips parted, but no words came, just another sharp inhale as Caleb sucked harder, as his teeth grazed ever so slightly over flushed skin.

Rose let out a soft moan of approval, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded as she watched Xavier arch, watched the way he gave just a little more with each touch. “You’re gorgeous like this,” she murmured, her voice thick with hunger and something even deeper—affection. “Let him take care of you, love.”

Xavier’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, fingers digging into the sheets beneath him as if grounding himself. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell them both to shut up, to stop looking at him like he was something to be handled with care—but his body betrayed him, hips shifting, breath unsteady, skin aching under every kiss and touch. And when Caleb’s hands slid up his ribs, pushing his shirt higher, fingertips tracing the firm muscle beneath, Xavier didn’t resist.

Caleb smirked, slow and pleased, as he dragged the fabric up and over Xavier’s head, tossing it aside without looking. His hands immediately returned to exploring, smoothing over Xavier’s bare skin, his thumbs tracing lazy circles along his waist, savoring every inch like he had been waiting for this. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so damn long,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just below Xavier’s collarbone, his breath warm against his skin.

Xavier exhaled through his nose, his hands flexing like he didn’t know where to put them, didn’t know what to do with them. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about this before—he had, in quick flashes, in thoughts he pushed away before they could linger—but now that it was real, now that Caleb’s hands were on him, it was too much, too intimate. His throat was dry when he finally spoke, voice rough, uneven. “You talk too much.”

Caleb grinned, his lips brushing against Xavier’s sternum as he chuckled. “Then shut me up,” he murmured, teasing, coaxing, but when he lifted his head, there was something deeper in his expression—something serious, something real. “Or just let me show you.”

Xavier hesitated, just for a second, but then his hands finally moved, gripping Caleb’s jaw as he pulled him in for another kiss. It was different this time, hungrier, his hesitation melting into something more primal, more certain. Caleb groaned softly against his lips, his hands sliding down Xavier’s back, gripping his hips as he guided them both down onto the mattress.

Rose sucked in a quiet breath, her fingers curling against the armrest, utterly transfixed. “God,” she whispered, watching as their bodies pressed together, as their kisses turned deeper, slower, as Xavier finally let himself want. “I think I might die watching this.”

Caleb smirked against Xavier’s lips, one hand slipping lower to tug at the waistband of his pants. “Better hold on then, sweetheart,” he murmured, never breaking the kiss, his voice low and full of promise. “We’re just getting started.”

Caleb took his time stripping Xavier down, dragging the fabric of his pants over strong thighs, fingers pressing firm into the muscle as he went. He let his hands linger, let his touch memorize, and when he finally tossed the last piece of clothing aside, he sat back on his knees for a moment, just looking. Xavier was stretched out beneath him, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, his boxers doing little to hide just how affected he was. Caleb smirked, but it wasn’t taunting—not this time.

Xavier swallowed hard, his fingers twitching against the sheets like he was resisting the urge to cover himself, to pull back before this could go any further. His body betrayed him, though, arching just slightly into Caleb’s touch, his thighs spreading a little wider, even as his expression remained stubbornly unreadable. “Stop staring,” he muttered, but the words lacked venom, coming out breathy instead of sharp. Caleb chuckled, hands sliding up the insides of Xavier’s thighs, dragging slow, teasing strokes before dipping his head down to press an open-mouthed kiss against the sensitive skin of his hip.

Xavier sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening around the sheets. Caleb felt him tense, but not in rejection—just in overwhelm, in the kind of anticipation that had been building for too damn long. “You’re so fucking stubborn,” Caleb murmured, lips brushing against the curve of his hipbone, his teeth scraping just enough to make Xavier hiss through clenched teeth. His smirk widened as he lifted his head, fingers tracing the waistband of Xavier’s boxers, palming him through the fabric. “But your body tells the truth.”

Xavier’s head fell back against the pillows, a shuddering exhale slipping past his lips before he could stop it. His hips twitched into Caleb’s palm, heat pulsing through his core, but his pride was still fighting it, still clinging to some last scrap of resistance. “Fuck off,” he growled, but the effect was ruined by the way his breath hitched when Caleb squeezed him just right, the thin material of his boxers offering little protection from the firm pressure. Caleb only grinned, dragging his palm down slow and deliberate, watching the way Xavier’s muscles twitched beneath his touch.

Rose moaned softly from her chair, shifting against the plush fabric, her eyes hooded as she watched them unravel each other. “God, you love this,” she whispered, not even bothering to hide the hunger in her voice. Her gaze flicked to Xavier, dark and knowing, lips curving as she leaned forward slightly. “Let yourself love it too.”

Xavier’s breath was ragged, his resolve fraying at the edges, and when Caleb leaned back up to kiss him again, he let him. Their mouths met in something hot and consuming, all the restraint and hesitation finally cracking under the weight of need. Xavier’s fingers slid into Caleb’s hair, gripping tight, holding him there like he was afraid to lose the moment now that it had started.

Caleb growled softly against his lips, shifting his weight so that their bodies pressed together, their straining cocks grinding through the thin barrier of their boxers. The sensation sent a pulse of pleasure straight through them both, their hips finding an instinctive rhythm, slow at first but quickly turning desperate. Xavier groaned into Caleb’s mouth, his pride be damned, because fuck, it felt good, too good, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

“You feel that?” Caleb murmured against his lips, his voice rough with need, rolling his hips in slow, teasing circles. “That’s real, Xavier. That’s us.”

Xavier bit back a moan, his teeth catching Caleb’s lower lip as his nails dragged down his back, hard enough to leave marks. He still wasn’t ready to say it, still wasn’t sure what this would mean outside of the moment, but his body wasn’t giving him a choice anymore. “Shut up and fuck me,” he finally muttered, voice wrecked, breathless, and the way Caleb groaned in response sent a fresh wave of heat through his veins.

Rose moaned softly, her thighs squeezing together, completely enthralled by the way they were giving in to what had always been there. “God, yes,” she whispered, her voice shaky, dark with approval. “No more running.”

Caleb grinned, eyes blazing as he looked down at Xavier, his hands sliding lower, finally hooking into the waistband of his boxers. “No more running,” he agreed, voice thick with promise, and then he dragged the last barrier between them away.

Xavier barely had time to catch his breath before Caleb was moving again, pushing his boxers down his thighs, eyes locked onto him like he was something worth devouring. Caleb’s gaze flicked lower, taking in Xavier’s length with a slow, appreciative hum, his hand smoothing over the inside of his thigh like he was savoring the moment. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, before shifting away just enough to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand.

Xavier’s muscles tensed automatically, his fingers twitching against the sheets, but Caleb caught the flicker of hesitation in his expression. He gave a slow, reassuring squeeze to Xavier’s thigh before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of it, grounding him before he could retreat into his own head. “Not using it just yet, don’t worry,” Caleb said softly, voice steady as he set the bottle within reach. “Just want it nearby—just in case.”

Xavier exhaled through his nose, relaxing just slightly, but his body still thrummed with tension—not entirely from nerves, but from this, from Caleb touching him like this, looking at him like this. He hadn’t expected to feel so seen, hadn’t expected Caleb to be so patient, so fucking careful with him. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet Caleb’s gaze, forcing himself to stay present instead of overthinking. “Yeah,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Alright.”

Caleb smirked at that, a flash of amusement crossing his features before he shifted again, wrapping his fingers around Xavier’s cock, stroking him in slow, deliberate pulls. Xavier let out a sharp breath through clenched teeth, his hips instinctively twitching into Caleb’s palm before he could stop himself. “There you go,” Caleb murmured, watching him closely, voice thick with something deeper than just desire. “Just feel, baby.”

Xavier groaned low in his throat, one of his hands flying to Caleb’s wrist, gripping tight—not to stop him, but to anchor himself. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his body already too hot, too sensitive from the slow build-up of tension. Caleb never took his eyes off him, watching every flicker of expression, every shiver, every gasp like it was the most important thing in the world.

Then, without warning, Caleb shifted forward, pressing their cocks together, his hand wrapping around both of them as he started to thrust up into his own grasp. The sensation was overwhelming, heat and friction in all the right places, their lengths sliding against each other in a way that made Xavier’s breath hitch. Caleb groaned, his forehead pressing against Xavier’s, his lips brushing against his as he rocked against him.

“Fuck,” Xavier hissed, his nails digging into Caleb’s shoulder, his body betraying him again, arching up into the motion. The heat between them was unbearable now, every slide of their lengths together sending sharp pulses of pleasure through his core. Caleb swallowed a moan, his free hand bracing against Xavier’s side, keeping them locked together, keeping the rhythm slow but deep.

“You good?” Caleb murmured, his voice breathless but focused, pressing a kiss to Xavier’s jaw between thrusts. Xavier nodded quickly, his grip tightening, his chest rising and falling against Caleb’s in ragged, uneven breaths. Caleb pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, searching for any lingering doubt. “I mean it, Xav,” he said, softer now, slowing his movements just enough to make sure Xavier was here with him. “You still with me?”

Xavier’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his pulse pounding, his mind still half-fighting what his body already knew. But then Caleb rolled his hips again, their cocks sliding together just right, and fuck, Xavier couldn’t lie, couldn’t pretend he didn’t want this just as much. “Yeah,” he rasped, his voice rough but certain this time. “I’m with you.”

Caleb’s smirk was slow, pleased, relieved, pressing a lingering kiss to Xavier’s lips as he started moving again, grinding down against him with deliberate, intoxicating friction. “Good,” he murmured, his breath hot against Xavier’s mouth. “Because I’m not stopping now.”

Caleb groaned, his breath coming out in a slow, shuddering exhale as he rocked his hips one last time, their cocks sliding against each other in slick, desperate friction. He braced himself on one arm, looking down at Xavier, his violet eyes dark with something deeper than just hunger. “Do you want to be on your back?” he asked, his voice thick, rough with restraint, and Xavier, after a moment’s hesitation, gave a short nod.

A slow smile curved Caleb’s lips, but there was no teasing, no smugness—just something warm, something steady as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Xavier’s mouth. “Let me prep you,” he whispered, his voice gentle in a way that made Xavier’s breath hitch, because Caleb wasn’t handling him—he was giving to him. He trailed kisses down Xavier’s chest, his stomach, his thighs, before finally settling between his legs, pressing a soft kiss to his knee as he reached for the lube.

The bottle clicked open, and Xavier exhaled sharply, his body tense, his muscles coiled like a spring, even though part of him already ached for this. Caleb noticed—of course he noticed—and instead of rushing, he ran his hands over Xavier’s thighs, grounding him, letting the warmth of his touch sink in. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low, reassuring, his fingers smoothing over the sensitive skin before slipping lower, trailing toward where he really wanted to touch him.

Xavier swallowed hard, forcing himself to unclench his fists from the sheets, but his breath still hitched when Caleb finally pressed his slicked fingers against him. The first touch was slow, deliberate, just Caleb’s fingertips circling, teasing, coaxing his body to open. “You’re good,” Caleb whispered, watching his face, searching for any sign of hesitation. “Just breathe for me.”

Xavier let out a slow breath through his nose, eyes fluttering shut as he forced himself to feel, to let go of the last remnants of resistance. Then, finally, Caleb pushed one finger inside, slow but steady, watching intently as Xavier’s muscles clenched around him, his expression unreadable at first. But then his lips parted, his body relaxing just enough, and Caleb pressed deeper, stroking slow, careful circles against sensitive muscle.

Rose let out a breathy sigh from her chair, her fingers ghosting over her own skin as she watched, utterly transfixed. “You’re taking such good care of him,” she murmured, her voice thick with approval, with hunger, her dark eyes locked onto the way Caleb’s fingers disappeared inside Xavier. “He looks so good like this, Caleb.”

Caleb’s smirk was brief, flickering over his lips before his focus returned to Xavier, his free hand rubbing slow, soothing strokes along his thigh. “He does,” he agreed, his voice hushed, reverent, his fingers working deeper, testing how Xavier reacted. “And he’s perfect.”

Xavier huffed out something between a scoff and a breathless moan, his fingers twitching against the sheets as a flush crept down his chest. “You’re so fucking—” he started, but his words cut off when Caleb curled his finger just right, pressing against something that sent a sharp pulse of pleasure straight through him. Xavier gasped, his hips jolting, his body betraying him again, and Caleb groaned, watching him, feeling him.

“There it is,” Caleb murmured, his smirk widening, but his touch remained slow, thorough, like he wanted to memorize exactly how Xavier felt around him. He worked him open with careful precision, adding a second finger, stretching him, preparing him, giving to him without rush or demand. “You’re doing so fucking good for me,” he whispered, voice thick with something genuine, pressing another slow kiss to Xavier’s knee.

Xavier swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths, his entire body thrumming with something he hadn’t let himself feel before. It wasn’t just the physical sensation—it was this, the way Caleb was watching him, the way he was treating him like something to cherish. He opened his mouth to say something, to argue or insult or deflect—but when Caleb scissored his fingers just slightly, pressing right there again, all that came out was a strangled moan.

Rose shuddered at the sound, her thighs pressing together as her fingers curled against the chair. “God, you sound wrecked,” she breathed, her voice full of admiration, her eyes flickering between them like she was memorizing the moment. 

Xavier’s head tipped back against the pillow, his jaw clenched, breath ragged, but he didn’t argue. He couldn’t—not with Caleb’s fingers still working him open, not with pleasure winding tight in his stomach, not with the way Rose was watching him like he was the most beautiful fucking thing in the world. Caleb groaned, pressing a final kiss to Xavier’s thigh before looking up at him, eyes dark and sure.

“You ready for me?” he murmured, his voice warm, steady, patient. Xavier met his gaze, his fingers flexing, his chest still rising and falling in uneven breaths—but he didn’t hesitate this time. “Yeah,” he exhaled, rough but certain, and Caleb smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his hip before reaching for the lube again.

Xavier’s breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling too fast as his mind warred with his body. He shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t be letting this happen—but fuck, his cock twitched at the thought of Caleb stretching him open, at the lingering pulse of pleasure from his fingers alone. And knowing Rose was watching—knowing she was seeing him like this, spread out and wanting—made heat pool low in his gut, a fresh bead of precum leaking from his tip.

Caleb groaned at the sight, wrapping his slicked fingers around Xavier’s cock, stroking him slow, teasing. “You’re already dripping for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with something rough, something almost adoring. “You say you’re unsure, but your body knows exactly what it wants.”

Xavier’s jaw clenched, his fingers curling into the sheets like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. “Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no real heat behind it, just rawness, just overwhelm. His thighs trembled slightly as Caleb’s grip tightened, his strokes matching the slow roll of his own hips, keeping him teetering right on the edge of something he didn’t want to name.

Caleb smirked, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Xavier’s throat, his breath warm and unshaken. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can’t lie to me,” he whispered, dragging his tongue along Xavier’s pulse, feeling the way it thrummed beneath his lips. “And you sure as hell can’t lie to her.”

Xavier let out a sharp breath, his eyes flickering to Rose—fuck—the way she was looking at him, like she was starving for this, like she wanted to see him fall apart. Her fingers traced slow, teasing circles against the inside of her own thigh, her lips parted, her breath coming just as fast as his. “You’re so fucking pretty like this,” she murmured, voice dark, full of want, her eyes locked onto where Caleb’s hand was still working Xavier’s cock.

Xavier’s hips twitched up into Caleb’s palm again, his face heating even more at the way they were both watching him—so intently, like he was something to be taken in. He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to being seen like this, wanted like this. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, barely able to get the words out. “Just—just do it already.”

Caleb huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t tease this time, didn’t push—he just kissed him again, deep and slow and messy, licking into his mouth as he reached for the lube again. The kiss was grounding, something to hold onto, something to tether them both to the moment as Caleb slicked himself up, groaning softly as he stroked himself, getting himself ready. He didn’t rush, didn’t let the moment spiral too fast, because this—Xavier—deserved patience, deserved to be eased into this, no matter how much Caleb ached to be inside him.

Xavier’s breath hitched as he felt the sticky heat of Caleb’s cock pressing against his entrance, not pushing in yet, just there, waiting. His body tensed automatically, his instincts screaming at him to react, to resist, but Caleb caught his chin in one hand, tilting his head slightly, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You’re safe,” Caleb murmured, his voice steady, calming, the hand at Xavier’s jaw rubbing small, slow circles against his skin. “I’m right here, baby.”

Xavier shuddered, his cock twitching at the low rasp of Caleb’s voice, at the way he said it like a promise, like he meant it. He was safe—he knew that—but fuck, feeling this exposed, this open, still sent something sharp and vulnerable through him. He inhaled deeply through his nose, forcing his body to breathe, forcing himself to relax, and after a long moment, he gave a short nod.

Caleb pressed another kiss to his lips, softer this time, sweeter, and then he pushed forward—just a little, just enough for Xavier to feel the stretch. Xavier’s breath stalled, his fingers digging into Caleb’s shoulders, but he didn’t tell him to stop, didn’t pull away, just hissed through clenched teeth at the slow, deliberate intrusion. Caleb groaned at the heat around him, at the way Xavier’s body fought to adjust, and he stilled, pressing soothing kisses along Xavier’s jaw.

“Breathe, baby,” Caleb whispered, pressing his forehead against Xavier’s, his thumb stroking slow, careful circles along his ribs. “I’ve got you.”

Xavier exhaled in a shaky breath, and despite everything, despite the stretch, despite the sharp fullness, his cock twitched again at the feeling of Caleb inside him. The pressure, the weight of it, the fucking intensity of knowing Caleb was right there sent another bead of precum dribbling from his tip. And when Rose let out a soft, breathy moan at the sight of them, at the way Xavier looked beneath Caleb, his body trembling but taking him—Xavier finally let himself sink into it.

Xavier’s breath stalled, his body tensing as he felt Caleb pushing deeper, the thick stretch making his instincts scream at him to fight, to pull away—to resist. But before that panic could take hold, Caleb’s lips were on his, warm and soft, kissing him slow, grounding him before he could slip too far into his own head. “I’m not going to hurt you…” Caleb whispered against his mouth, his voice so steady, so sure, and Xavier latched onto that certainty like it was the only thing keeping him in place.

His muscles twitched beneath Caleb’s hands, but he wasn’t fighting—wasn’t pushing away or clawing for control, just feeling, taking. It wasn’t what he was used to, wasn’t how things usually were between them, two Alphas always toeing the line between rivalry and something deeper. But here, now, with Caleb pressing deeper inch by inch, moaning against his skin like Xavier was something to be worshiped, it didn’t feel like losing—it felt like giving.

Caleb groaned into Xavier’s throat as he finally slid all the way in, his body shuddering from the tight heat wrapped around him, from the slow, unbearable pace he had forced himself to take. He lifted Xavier’s thigh higher, his lips dragging down the inside of his leg, pressing a reverent kiss to his calf, his fingers gripping him like he was trying to hold himself back from snapping his hips forward. “Are you okay?” Caleb rasped, voice thick, his breath hot against Xavier’s flushed skin.

Xavier swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as he tried to adjust, to process the sheer weight of Caleb inside him. His body was tight, too sensitive, and fuck—he felt everything, every twitch, every pulse, every thick inch of Caleb stretching him to his limit. “Yeah,” he finally exhaled, voice rough, shaky, but certain, his fingers flexing against Caleb’s arms.

Caleb pulled back just enough to look at him, his violet eyes dark, searching, scanning every flicker of Xavier’s expression. “You sure?” he murmured, his voice softer now, but serious, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles over Xavier’s thigh. “Because I need you to want this.”

Xavier let out a shaky breath, the words sinking into him in a way he hadn’t expected—because he did want this, had needed it longer than he would ever fucking admit. His body ached, still getting used to the stretch, but the longer he laid there, the more it settled—the more his cock twitched between them, the more the slow, molten pleasure started creeping in to replace the tension. “I do,” he muttered, his hands trailing down Caleb’s back, gripping hard as his legs tightened around him. “So fucking move.”

Caleb let out a rough, wrecked groan, something breaking loose inside him at those words, at the way Xavier was clinging to him now, at the way he was finally letting go. He pulled out slow, dragging against sensitive muscle before pushing back in with a deep, steady roll of his hips, his fingers gripping Xavier’s thigh tight enough to leave bruises. “Fuck, baby,” Caleb moaned, his forehead pressing to Xavier’s, his lips brushing against his jaw as he thrust again, just a little deeper this time.

Xavier gasped, his whole body shivering, the stretch burning less now, pleasure slowly unfurling in its place, deep and heavy. His nails bit into Caleb’s shoulders, his breath ragged, the pressure of being filled like this almost overwhelming—but he wanted it, wanted more. “God,” he choked out, voice raw, his thighs tightening around Caleb’s hips. “You feel fucking huge.”

Rose moaned from her chair, shifting restlessly, her thighs rubbing together as she watched them come apart for each other. “Fuck, I knew you’d like it,” she murmured, voice thick with arousal, her fingers teasing against the silk of her robe, her eyes locked on the way Xavier’s body took Caleb in so perfectly. “You look so good like this, baby.”

Xavier barely had time to glare at her before Caleb snapped his hips forward, burying himself deep, hitting just right, and suddenly all Xavier could do was moan, his back arching off the mattress. Caleb groaned at the sound, capturing his mouth in a slow, hungry kiss as he kept his thrusts deep, dragging every inch of pleasure out of Xavier that he could. 

“That’s it,” he murmured against his lips, his voice wrecked but so fucking proud, his hand sliding between them to grip Xavier’s leaking cock. “Let me have you.”

Xavier shuddered, his body locking up at the sensation of Caleb’s hand stroking him in time with his thrusts, the pleasure too much, too good, too fucking real. His pride was in tatters, his control gone, every last part of him given over to Caleb’s touch, to the way he knew exactly what Xavier needed. And when Caleb groaned his name against his skin, his voice raw and reverent, Xavier knew—there was no going back from this.

Caleb’s thrusts grew faster, deeper, his pace shifting from slow and reverent to something desperate, something consuming. His grip on Xavier tightened, fingers digging into his hips as he rocked into him, each drag of his cock against sensitive muscle sending shudders through them both. Xavier’s breath hitched with every movement, his body clenching, his cock throbbing between them, his mind drowning in sensation.

“You’re close…” Caleb whispered, his voice rough, wrecked, his lips ghosting over Xavier’s flushed skin as he felt him tightening around him. His breath was hot against Xavier’s throat, his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin there before he licked, tasting him, claiming him. “So am I… but I want you to know something,” he murmured, his voice dark with promise, with possession.

Xavier barely had time to process the words before Caleb bit him, his teeth sinking into the crook of his neck, sending a sharp, electric pulse of pleasure straight to his cock. He gasped, his nails clawing at Caleb’s back, his whole body jerking beneath him at the sudden, primal claim. His vision blurred for a second, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it, by the way Caleb groaned against his skin, his thrusts growing almost frantic now.

“I’m going to knot you,” Caleb rasped, his lips still pressed against the raw mark he’d just left, his breath uneven, almost wild. His hands gripped Xavier’s thighs tighter, pulling him open wider, thrusting deeper, hitting that perfect spot again and again, making Xavier’s entire body tremble. 

“If I can’t breed her this time…” He chuckled, dark and fucking sinful, grinding his hips deep into Xavier’s, dragging a wrecked moan from his lips. “I’ll just breed you.”

Xavier shuddered, his cock twitching at the filthy words, at the way Caleb owned the moment like it was his right. The impossibility of it didn’t matter—what mattered was the act, the primal weight of it, the way Caleb wanted him in the same way he wanted Rose, the same way he claimed her. His breath came in ragged gasps, his mind blanking out for a second as his body reacted, arching up, seeking more.

Rose moaned from her chair, her fingers pressed between her thighs now, her breathing ragged, her eyes devouring the sight of them. “Fuck,” she whispered, voice thick with hunger, her legs spreading wider as she watched, as she took in every inch of them together.

Xavier groaned loud, his cock leaking onto his stomach, his pride gone, buried under the sheer weight of his own pleasure. Caleb felt it, saw it, and fucking loved it, his thrusts turning erratic now, his body chasing the inevitable snap of release. His fingers wrapping around Xavier’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts, determined to push him over the edge.

Xavier’s hips jerked, his breath catching, his body locking up as everything coiled tight inside him, every muscle seizing as the pleasure reached its peak. “Fuck—fuck, Caleb—” his voice broke as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling over Caleb’s hand, his entire body shaking through the intensity of it. Caleb moaned loud at the feeling of Xavier clenching down on him, his cock throbbing hard, his knot already swelling at the base.

“That’s it,” Caleb groaned, his pace stuttering, his body slamming into Xavier one last time as his own orgasm tore through him. His knot swelled inside Xavier, locking them together, the sensation making Xavier whimper, overstimulated, wrecked. Caleb collapsed onto him, panting against his neck, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses over the mark he’d left.

Rose sighed, her fingers still teasing herself as she watched them, her body trembling from the sheer heat of the moment. “God, that was beautiful,” she breathed, her voice dripping with satisfaction, her eyes dark and starving even now. “But next time…” She licked her lips, smirking as she trailed her fingers up her stomach, breathing heavy. “I better be in the middle of it.”

—

Caleb sighed as he zipped up his duffel bag, his expression tight with reluctance as he glanced toward the living room. He hated leaving, hated missing anything—even if it was just a few days—but work didn’t exactly give him a choice. Still, he took his time saying goodbye, pressing a long, slow kiss to Rose’s lips, lingering for just a moment before shifting his attention to their son.

The little boy squirmed in Rose’s arms, distracted by his own wiggling fingers, but when Caleb leaned in and kissed the top of his soft curls, the toddler let out a little giggle. “Dada!” he chirped, reaching up to grab Caleb’s face with chubby hands, smushing his cheeks together. Caleb chuckled, prying the tiny fingers off gently before kissing his forehead again, his voice warm. “Be good for Mama and Uncle Xavier, alright?”

Xavier, who had been watching from his usual spot near the kitchen, arms crossed, tense, nearly flinched when Caleb turned to him next. It was still new, still strange, the way Caleb kissed him now like it was normal, like it wasn’t something Xavier was still coming to terms with. He stiffened slightly when Caleb leaned in, but he didn’t pull away, just let their lips press together, quick but firm, before Caleb pulled back with a smirk.

“I’ll take care of them,” Xavier muttered, shifting awkwardly on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. He meant it, though—this was his family too now, whether he was ready to admit it fully or not. Caleb chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for his bag, his voice full of absolute certainty. “I know you will.”

Then, with one last glance at all of them, Caleb finally left, closing the door behind him, leaving the house feeling just a little too quiet in his absence. Rose sighed dramatically, bouncing their son on her hip before grinning over at Xavier, reading the stiffness in his posture like a book. “You’re thinking too much,” she teased, nudging his side as she walked past him toward the living room. “Come help me wear out this little menace before bedtime.”

Xavier huffed, rolling his eyes, but followed her anyway, because she wasn’t wrong—he was thinking too much. Their son was already wiggling out of Rose’s arms the second they stepped into the living room, determined to be on the floor where freedom existed. “Down! Down! Wanna run!” he demanded, his little hands reaching toward the floor, his entire body twisting to get away.

Rose set him down with a sigh, shaking her head as he immediately took off, little feet pattering against the hardwood as he ran straight toward the couch. He didn’t stop—just launched himself at the cushions with full toddler confidence, bouncing off one of them and landing in a giggling heap on the carpet. Xavier snorted, leaning against the wall as he watched the chaos unfold. “He’s got way too much energy for someone so small.”

Rose groaned, stretching her arms over her head before flopping onto the couch dramatically. “Tell me about it,” she muttered, watching as their son scrambled back to his feet, his giggles turning wild as he sprinted in a circle around the coffee table. “He’s like a feral little creature after dinner.”

Xavier arched a brow, smirking as he pushed off the wall and crouched slightly, watching the little boy with a predator’s patience. “Alright, kid,” he said, his voice low, playful, eyes narrowing as he waited for the perfect moment. “You better run—’cause I’m gonna get you.”

The toddler squealed at the challenge, eyes wide with excitement before he bolted, tiny legs pumping as fast as they could as he ran away from Xavier’s pouncing hands. He screeched in laughter when Xavier finally lunged, scooping him up and flipping him upside down, holding him dangling by his legs. “Gotcha,” Xavier smirked, watching as the toddler wriggled furiously, kicking his feet in protest.

“Nooo! Nooooo! ‘Gain! ‘Gain!” the little boy shrieked through breathless giggles, his entire face scrunched in absolute joy. Xavier shook his head, flipping him right-side-up and tossing him gently onto the couch, watching as he immediately scrambled back to his feet. “Oh, now you want me to chase you again?” Xavier teased, crossing his arms. “I thought you were supposed to be tired.”

The toddler bounced on the couch cushions, vibrating with leftover energy, shaking his head so hard his curls flopped into his eyes. “No tired! Nooo tired!!” he declared, his little voice pitched high with excitement, throwing his arms in the air like some kind of tiny victory pose. Rose groaned into her hands, letting her head fall back against the couch. “Xavier, you’re supposed to be wearing him out—not fueling his madness.”

Xavier smirked, sitting on the arm of the couch, watching as the toddler did a wobbly little spin before immediately tripping over his own feet and landing in a heap on the carpet again. “I am wearing him out,” he muttered, nodding toward the heap of panting, exhausted toddler sprawled out on the floor. “He’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

Rose peeked over her hands, arching a brow as she watched their son attempt to push himself back up—only to flop down again with a heavy sigh, his little chest heaving from exertion. His eyelids drooped as he sucked in deep breaths, blinking slow, suddenly looking very small and very sleepy. “Uh-huh,” Rose hummed, sitting up with a smirk. “Looks like you win this round, Uncle Xavier.”

Xavier snorted, but his smirk softened as he stood, scooping the now-limp toddler up into his arms, cradling him against his chest. The little boy nuzzled into him immediately, his tiny hands gripping onto Xavier’s shirt, his sleepy breath warm against his neck. “Alright, bedtime, troublemaker,” Xavier murmured, pressing a kiss to the soft curls atop his head.

Rose stood too, stretching before following them toward the nursery, her voice playful as she looped her arm through Xavier’s. “You really do take care of us,” she murmured, and Xavier huffed, glancing away, his grip on their son tightening just a little. “Yeah, well,” he muttered, voice softer now, his eyes focused on the sleeping toddler in his arms. “You’re mine too.”

Xavier exhaled slowly as he finished wiping down the kitchen counters, the scent of soap and faint traces of dinner still lingering in the air. The apartment was quiet now, the hum of the dishwasher the only sound filling the space, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of energy their son had been just minutes ago. He glanced toward the hallway, knowing Rose was still settling the little one into bed, and for a moment, he let himself feel it—this life, this family, this thing he had never expected but wouldn’t change for anything.

It didn’t matter that their son was technically Caleb’s—he was his too, had been since the beginning, since he first laid eyes on him, tiny and red-faced and perfect. It had never been discussed, never needed to be, because he was there, had always been there, standing beside Caleb, beside her. Both of them wanting her, both of them wrapped around her finger, but now… now it wasn’t just about her anymore, was it?

Xavier sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed the now-clean living room, the small mountain of toys finally put away, the last remnants of the day tucked neatly back into place. It felt good, right, to close up the house this way, to take care of the small things that made their home feel settled. He barely had time to straighten up before Rose’s voice broke through the quiet, teasing and warm.

“This… is so sexy,” she purred, leaning against the doorway, her lips curled in a smirk as she let her gaze sweep over him, deliberately slow. Xavier chuckled, shaking his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched as he stepped toward her, his hands automatically settling at her waist. “Yeah?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, slow and lingering. “Cleaning does it for you, huh?”

Rose hummed, looping her arms around his neck, tilting her head slightly as if considering. “Mmm… maybe,” she teased, dragging her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Or maybe it’s just you.”

Xavier huffed out a laugh, nudging his nose against hers, enjoying the easy closeness, the comfort of it. This wasn’t new, not really, but the weight in his chest, the absolute certainty that she was his—theirs—was still settling into place. He pressed a kiss to her temple before glancing around the apartment with a satisfied nod. “Alright, house is closed up, dishes are running… what now?”

Rose grinned, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the bedroom, her eyes dark with something inviting. “Now,” she murmured, “we go to bed—or we do something else in bed.”

Xavier smirked, letting her lead him, his grip tightening playfully on her waist. “Oh, something else, huh?” he murmured, letting his voice dip lower, teasing, eyes flicking down to her lips. “You’re gonna have to be real specific, sweetheart.”

Before she could answer, her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the familiar chime of an incoming video call cutting through the thickening tension. Rose let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she reached for it. “Speak of the devil,” she muttered, swiping to accept the call as Caleb’s face filled the screen.

Xavier rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small twist of something warm in his chest at the sight of him, even through the grainy video. Caleb looked good, slightly disheveled from what was probably a long day, his violet eyes sharp and focused despite the late hour. “Well, look who decided to check in,” Xavier muttered, stepping closer, resting his chin on Rose’s shoulder as his hands slid down to grip her waist.

Caleb smirked, leaning back in his chair, his expression easy but his eyes dark as they lingered on the way Xavier was holding her. “Just wanted to see my girl,” he murmured, his voice warm but watchful. “Didn’t expect you to be all over her already, Xav.”

Xavier grinned, something wicked sparking in his chest, and before he could think twice about it, he dipped his head lower, licking over the mark Caleb had left on Rose’s neck, slow and deliberate. Rose gasped, her fingers tightening on the phone, and Caleb’s expression shifted, his smirk faltering just slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” Xavier murmured, his tongue flicking over the mark again, his fingers gripping her hips, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Caleb exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening, but there was something else behind his stare, something almost possessive. “You playing with fire, baby?” he murmured, his voice lower now, slower, watching as Xavier pressed another slow kiss to Rose’s shoulder, letting his teeth graze just slightly. “Because I know you, Xavier, and you don’t do anything unless you want to.”

Xavier smirked, his lips still against Rose’s skin, his heart thudding in his chest a little too fast, but he refused to back down now. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, lifting his gaze to meet Caleb’s through the screen, challenging him, teasing but serious all at once. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Caleb let out a slow breath, his eyes dark with something undeniable, something that sent a sharp pulse of heat down Xavier’s spine. “Oh, trust me,” Caleb murmured, tilting his head slightly, his smirk curling back into place. “When I get home… I will.”

Xavier smirked, his fingers tracing slow circles against Rose’s waist as he shifted his gaze back to Caleb, watching him watch them. Caleb’s expression was unreadable at first, his violet eyes flicking between the two of them, assessing, measuring—but Xavier knew what he was doing. He tilted Rose’s chin toward him, capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss before murmuring against her mouth, “But for now, I think you can just watch… besides, we had an agreement, didn’t we?”

Rose let out a breathy sound against his lips, her body pressing into his without hesitation, her excitement clear in the way her fingers curled against his chest. They had never shared this part of things before—not like this, not while Caleb was watching, but fuck, the thrill of it sent something sharp through her veins. Xavier pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his thumb stroking along the curve of her jaw as he murmured, “You okay with this?”

Her breath hitched slightly, but her nod was immediate, her pupils blown wide with something heady, something undeniable. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice thick, breathless, her grip tightening on his shirt. Xavier let out a slow breath, nodding in turn, because it was one thing to think about this—to entertain the idea—but it was another thing entirely to feel it, to do it, to be here now with Rose melting into him and Caleb’s gaze locked onto them.

His chest tightened, but not in a bad way, just in a way that reminded him this was different—but different wasn’t bad. Two Alphas fighting for dominance had been the price of this relationship for too damn long, but now? Now there was balance, now there was something else, something that made Xavier lean into it instead of fight against it. He exhaled through his nose, swallowing back whatever uncertainty lingered before shifting his gaze back to Caleb.

“And what about you?” Xavier asked, his voice lower now, softer, his head tilting just slightly as he watched Caleb’s expression shift. He wasn’t going to push him into something he wasn’t ready for, wasn’t going to test the limits of this just for the sake of proving something to himself. “You don’t have to—if you don’t want—”

“Yes,” Caleb interrupted before he could finish, his voice firm despite the way his body relaxed against the pillows of his hotel bed. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, fingers drumming idly against his knee, but he wasn’t uncomfortable, wasn’t resisting—if anything, he looked like he was settling into it now. “Yeah,” he added, nodding once, slower this time, his eyes darkening as he exhaled. “I want this.”

Xavier’s grip on Rose’s waist tightened slightly at the confirmation, something electric sparking down his spine, something real. He had expected Caleb to hesitate, to pull back, to tease his way out of it like he always did when things got too serious—but he didn’t. Instead, he watched, his chest rising and falling just a little too fast, his pupils dilated, his smirk twitching at the edges like he was already picturing exactly what Xavier was going to do.

Rose let out a soft, shuddering sigh, her thighs pressing together slightly as she felt the energy shift between them, her hands dragging down Xavier’s arms. “God,” she breathed, licking her lips, her eyes flickering between them both, soaking in the moment. “This is so much better than I imagined.”

Xavier huffed out a quiet laugh, pressing another kiss to her jaw, his fingers sliding lower, gripping her hip just right. “That’s ‘cause I know how to put on a good show,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the mark Caleb had left on her neck again, deliberate, letting Caleb see it, letting him feel it. Caleb’s breath hitched, barely noticeable, but Xavier caught it, and something thrilled in his chest at the reaction.

Caleb shifted on the bed, resting his chin in his hand, his smirk widening just slightly as he let out a slow breath. “Don’t get cocky now,” he murmured, his voice smoother, more settled, comfortable now in a way that made Xavier’s stomach twist. “We both know you’re not just doing this for her.”

Xavier’s body tensed just slightly, but then Rose moaned softly in his arms, pressing closer, grounding him, keeping him from getting caught up in the weight of Caleb’s words. He bit the inside of his cheek, exhaling slowly before he let his smirk return, letting the moment breathe before throwing Caleb’s words back at him. “Yeah?” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to Rose’s throat, his fingers dragging down her waist as his eyes flickered back to Caleb through the screen. “Then you better keep watching.”

Xavier pushed Rose’s top over her head with slow, deliberate movements, his hands immediately finding her breasts, cupping them with a firm, possessive grip. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, teasing the sensitive peaks before pinching them between his fingers, rolling the hardened buds with just enough pressure to make her gasp. He loved the way she reacted, how her body arched into his touch, how she never tried to hide how much she wanted it. “So sensitive,” he murmured, his voice smooth, low, almost thoughtful as he toyed with her.

Rose whimpered, her thighs pressing together at the warm ache building between them, her hands resting on Xavier’s forearms, holding onto him. “You always do this,” she breathed, shuddering as he twisted one nipple just a little harder, his smirk barely visible in the dim bedroom light. Xavier tilted his head, watching her through half-lidded eyes, then reached for the camera, adjusting its angle so that Caleb had an uninterrupted view of everything.

Caleb let out a quiet grunt of approval from the screen, shifting where he sat, his violet eyes sharp, hungry as he took in the sight of Xavier’s hands on her. “Much better,” he drawled, his smirk widening slightly as he leaned back, exuding that effortless control he always carried. “Now let’s see if you can get her really squirming, Xav.”

Xavier didn’t respond—not verbally, at least. Instead, he turned Rose in his arms, guiding her down onto the mattress, his mouth following the curve of her collarbone, dragging lower. He kissed the swell of her breasts, tongue flicking against her already-hard nipples before sucking one between his lips, slow and deep, his other hand already slipping between her thighs.

Rose let out a shuddering moan, her legs parting instinctively, her breath catching when Xavier’s fingers pressed against the damp heat of her panties. He exhaled against her skin, groaning softly at the warm, slick evidence of her arousal, spreading his fingers over the fabric to feel just how wet she already was. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice almost reverent, as if the sheer heat of her was too much even for him.

Caleb chuckled from the screen, his gaze locked onto Xavier’s hand, watching the slow, teasing way his fingers worked over her. “She always gets like that when she knows she’s being watched,” he murmured, his tone playful, but there was a dark edge beneath it. “Bet she’s soaked through already, isn’t she?”

Xavier smirked slightly, dragging his fingers in slow, lazy strokes over the damp fabric, pressing down just enough to feel the way her body twitched beneath him. “See for yourself,” he murmured, lifting his gaze to the camera as he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her thighs, exposing everything. Rose whimpered, hips shifting, the cool air hitting her drenched folds, her arousal glistening under the soft bedroom light.

Caleb exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching on his knee, his jaw tightening for a split second before he smirked again. “Damn,” he muttered, his voice lower now, more serious, watching the way Xavier’s fingers ghosted over her slick folds. “You are wet.”

Xavier didn’t speak, just ran two fingers through her slit, gathering the warm, slippery heat pooling there, spreading it over her clit in slow, teasing circles. He felt the way she trembled, the way her thighs tensed and relaxed, her body already so responsive to the barest touch. “Sloppy,” he murmured, his breath warm against her chest, his fingers pressing just right against her swollen clit, rubbing slow and deliberate.

Rose let out a soft cry, her back arching, her hands gripping the sheets as pleasure coiled inside her, sharp and electric. “Xavier—” she gasped, her hips jerking into his hand, slick noises filling the space between them as he dragged his fingers through the wetness again, dipping just slightly into her entrance before pulling back up. Xavier groaned low, pressing a wet kiss to her nipple, savoring the way she reacted.

“She’s dripping,” he muttered, his voice gravelly, almost like he was talking to himself rather than Caleb. But Caleb heard him, saw the way his fingers glistened with her arousal when he lifted them slightly, letting the camera catch every slow, indulgent stroke.

Caleb exhaled through his nose, his smirk deepening, but his eyes darkened slightly, something more primal lurking beneath the usual amusement. “You should taste her,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding, as if the thought alone was enough to make his own blood run hot. “Get in there nice and slow, let me see how good she melts on your tongue.”

Xavier growled softly at that, the suggestion sending a fresh wave of arousal through him, making his cock throb against his jeans. He didn’t need to be told twice—he was already thinking about it, already imagining the way she would shudder when his mouth replaced his fingers. Without another word, he shifted lower, spreading her legs further apart, and lowered his head between her thighs.

Rose whimpered, her entire body vibrating with anticipation as Xavier’s breath ghosted over her exposed, swollen heat. He didn’t rush, didn’t immediately dive in—he lingered, letting the wet, pulsing ache between her legs build higher, letting her feel how much he was taking his time. When his tongue finally swiped through her folds, collecting the slick mess he had spread there, both of them groaned.

Caleb let out a quiet curse from the screen, shifting again, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he watched. “Fuck, that’s beautiful,” he muttered, his voice heavier now, less playful, more hungry. “She always tastes so fucking good, doesn’t she?”

Xavier groaned against her, his tongue flattening against her clit, pressing firm, slow, making her entire body jolt beneath him. “Sweet,” he rasped, licking into her deeper, savoring the slick warmth coating his tongue.

Rose moaned, her fingers tangling in Xavier’s hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, her body trembling beneath his mouth. Caleb smirked at the sight, tilting his head slightly as he watched them, his own breath coming just a little too fast now. “Then keep going,” he murmured, voice thick with command, possessive in its own right. “Make her cum for both of us.”

Xavier didn’t let up, his tongue moving in slow, firm strokes, pressing deep before flicking back up to swirl around her clit. His fingers thrust inside her, curling just right, feeling the way her walls clenched around them, already so tight, so needy. “You’re gonna cum for me,” he muttered against her heat, his voice low, confident, not a question but a promise.

Rose moaned, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as she gripped the sheets beneath her. “Xavier—fuck—” she cried out, her entire body arching as the pleasure crested higher, shattering over her like a tidal wave. He groaned as she tightened around his fingers, soaking his hand, his tongue never stopping, drawing it out until she was whimpering beneath him.

Caleb exhaled sharply from the screen, his jaw clenched, his violet eyes dark, his chest rising and falling too fast to be unaffected. Xavier licked his fingers clean, his smirk slow and satisfied as he finally pulled back, watching Rose tremble beneath him. “She always looks so good like this,” Caleb murmured, his voice slightly rougher, his breathing a little too heavy now.

Xavier wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before standing, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. He didn’t look at the camera right away, but he felt Caleb watching—felt the sharp inhale, the slight hitch in his breath when he reached for his belt next. The leather slid free with a quiet snap, and then he flicked his gaze to the screen, catching the way Caleb’s hand twitched in his lap.

A slow, knowing smirk curled Xavier’s lips as he tossed the belt aside, his fingers moving to undo his jeans next. “You touching yourself?” he murmured, his voice calm, almost casual, but there was something else beneath it—something that made Caleb’s throat work as he swallowed. Caleb smirked, tilting his head, but he didn’t bother denying it, his shoulders shifting as his free hand ran through his hair. “Maybe,” he muttered, his voice thick, teasing, but breathless.

Rose let out a shaky laugh, stretching beneath Xavier, her chest still heaving from her last orgasm. “Don’t let him get to you, Caleb,” she murmured, her eyes half-lidded, playful, as she reached up to trace her fingers along Xavier’s stomach, watching the muscles twitch under her touch. “He’s just feeling cocky ‘cause he finally gets to do what he wanted last time.”

Xavier arched a brow, gripping her wrist, pressing her hand flat against his stomach before smirking down at her. “Damn right,” he muttered, his fingers hooking into the waistband of his jeans, shoving them down along with his briefs, finally freeing his cock, hard and heavy against his stomach. He let out a slow breath, his fingers wrapping around the base as he gave himself a lazy stroke, tilting his head slightly toward the camera. “’Bout time I finally put a baby in her.”

Caleb groaned, his hand tightening where it was definitely working himself over now, his pupils blown wide. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, his head tipping back against the pillows for a second before he looked back at them. “You love saying shit like that, don’t you?”

Xavier breathed out a laugh, pressing a knee onto the mattress, moving to settle himself between Rose’s legs, his cock nudging against her slick heat. “Mm,” he hummed, letting himself grind against her, smearing precum against her folds, teasing them both. “You’re just pissed ‘cause it’s not you knocking her up this time.”

Caleb let out a sharp breath, his smirk still there, but his fingers tightened around himself, the sound of slick movements coming through the speaker. “Watch yourself, Xav,” he muttered, his tone low, dark with something dangerous. “Or I will make you pay when I get home.”

Xavier grinned, pressing a kiss to Rose’s knee. “Can’t fucking wait,” he murmured, and Rose moaned, caught between both of them, loving every second of it.

Xavier dragged the thick head of his cock through her slick folds, coating himself in the warmth of her arousal as he teased her clit with slow, deliberate strokes. He wasn’t soft, wasn’t sweet—he knew she liked it rough, liked the sharp edge of pleasure-pain, the way he took her without hesitation. “You’re dripping for me,” he muttered against her lips, rubbing himself against her entrance, his voice thick, teasing. “You want me to stretch you open, don’t you?”

Rose moaned, her thighs trembling around his hips, her fingers digging into his arms, pulling him closer. “Yes,” she gasped, her breath hot against his mouth, needy, desperate for him to stop teasing. Xavier smirked at her impatience, grabbing her hips and lifting them slightly before slamming forward in one deep, unrelenting thrust.

She cried out, her head snapping back against the pillow as Xavier set a ruthless pace, his hips slapping against hers, wet and obscene, filling the room with the sound of skin meeting skin. He groaned, his mouth claiming hers in a slow, messy kiss, contrasting the rough way he fucked her, making her feel every punishing stroke. “You take me so fucking well,” he murmured against her lips, gripping her jaw to force her to look at him, his pace never faltering. “So fucking tight, Rose—like you were made for me.”

From the phone, Caleb’s sharp moan cut through the air, the unmistakable slick sound of him stroking himself punctuating the wet slap of Xavier’s thrusts. “Fuck, that’s a sight,” Caleb groaned, his voice lower, rougher, his breathing heavy through the speaker. “You fucking her just like I would, Xavier? Making sure she feels it for days?”

Xavier chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing Rose’s jaw before sucking a bruise into her skin, staking his own claim. “You know I am,” he murmured, his voice deep, his thrusts growing harder, sharper, his cock dragging against the sensitive spot inside her just right. “Maybe I should make you watch every time I fuck her—make you listen while I fill her up.”

Caleb let out a low growl, his hand working himself faster, the sound undeniable over the phone. “Yeah?” he breathed, amusement laced with something filthy, something dangerous. “Maybe next time I’ll fuck you while you fuck her—then we can keep our deal, huh?”

Xavier’s rhythm faltered just slightly, his breath hitching, a sharp pulse of heat tearing through him at the thought—at the way Caleb said it, so fucking confident, like it was already decided. He felt Rose shudder beneath him at the suggestion, her walls clenching around him, milking him, her moan high and breathless. “That way,” Caleb continued, his voice smooth, teasing, but intentional, “I can make sure you’re filling her just right.”

Xavier groaned, his grip tightening on Rose’s hips, his thrusts turning brutal, punishing, chasing the tight coil of pleasure building inside him. “You want that, baby?” he murmured, voice rough, dragging his teeth along Rose’s throat as his fingers pressed against her swollen clit. “Want me to fuck you while he fucks me?”

Rose whimpered, her nails scraping down Xavier’s back, her body already tightening, already so close. “Yes—fuck—yes,” she gasped, her thighs quivering around him, her walls pulsing, sucking him in deeper. Caleb groaned over the phone, his breath ragged, his pleasure unmistakable as he listened, as he watched.

Xavier turned his head slightly, his eyes locking onto the phone, onto Caleb, his body coiling at the way he was watching them so intensely. “That what you want, Caleb?” he rasped, his cock throbbing inside Rose, his own orgasm teetering on the edge. “Want to feel me while I ruin her for both of us?”

Rose felt like her mind was going numb from the back-and-forth between Xavier and Caleb, the push-and-pull of dominance and control that neither of them had quite figured out yet. It was all still so new, the way they interacted now, the way the tension between them had shifted from rivalry to something heavier, something thick with understanding and lust. But hell, if she wasn’t loving every second of it, her body tightening with every filthy, teasing remark, every sharp inhale from Caleb as he watched them from the screen.

She grabbed Xavier by the jaw, pulling his mouth to hers, claiming him with a kiss that was all tongue and hunger, moaning softly as he rutted into her with deep, steady strokes. He groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her thighs, pulling them higher around his waist as he pounded into her, stretching her wide and filling her so perfectly she could feel him in her stomach. His usual quiet confidence was what had drawn her to him in the first place—but when he talked, when he let those filthy words spill from his lips, it did something to her that sent her spiraling.

“You love this, don’t you?” Xavier murmured against her lips, rolling his hips just right, his voice hushed but thick with certainty. He dragged his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in, groaning as her slick, pulsing walls sucked him right back in. “Love being fucked open like this while he watches?”

Rose moaned, her nails scraping down his back, her thighs trembling from the relentless pleasure, the pressure of his cock dragging against her deepest spot over and over. “Yes—fuck, yes—Xavier—” her voice broke as the pleasure surged higher, her nerves fraying, her entire body tightening around him. Caleb let out a low groan from the screen, the unmistakable wet sounds of his stroking growing faster, more desperate.

“She’s close,” Caleb muttered, his voice slightly strained, his control slipping as he watched them. His violet eyes burned with intensity, locked onto where Xavier’s cock was splitting her open, glistening with her arousal every time he pulled back. “Make her fucking cum, Xav—make her squeeze you so tight you can’t hold out either.”

Xavier let out a shaky breath, his own pleasure hitting a breaking point, his fingers digging into Rose’s thighs as he thrust harder, deeper, his entire body tightening. His hand slipped between them, pressing firm, deliberate circles against her swollen clit, rubbing her exactly how he knew she liked. “Come on, baby,” he growled, his voice rough, breathless, his cock throbbing inside her. “Cum for me—let me feel it.”

Rose shattered, her entire body locking up, her orgasm crashing through her like lightning, pleasure ripping her apart from the inside out. She sobbed Xavier’s name, her nails biting into his skin, her walls clamping down around his cock in tight, pulsing waves. Xavier cursed, his jaw clenching as he fucked her through it, his own release barreling toward him as her body milked him relentlessly.

Caleb groaned through the speaker, his breathing ragged, the sharp, wet sounds of his hand moving faster filling the room. “That’s it,” he muttered, voice lower now, wrecked, his pupils blown wide. “You’re squeezing him so fucking good, sweetheart—fuck, you’re making him lose it.”

Xavier’s rhythm faltered as his knot swelled at the base of his cock, locking them together, trapping every pulsing inch of him inside her. His head fell to her shoulder as he groaned deeply, his cock twitching as his orgasm hit, thick ropes of cum spilling into her, filling her with every hot, pulsing spurt. He shuddered, holding her tight, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to her throat, his hips jerking slightly with every aftershock.

Caleb let out a low, guttural moan, his body tensing as he stroked himself through his own orgasm, breath ragged as he spilled over his stomach. His eyes fluttered slightly, his body slumping back against the hotel pillows, his smirk lazy, satisfied. “Fuck,” he muttered, wiping his hand across his chest, shaking his head slightly. “That was... a fucking sight.”

Xavier huffed out a tired laugh, still panting, still locked deep inside Rose, trapped by his knot. “You say that like you didn’t just cum watching us,” he muttered, his voice rough, teasing, pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to Rose’s damp skin. “Not so smug now, huh?”

Caleb chuckled, dragging a hand through his hair, his expression still hazy with pleasure, but his confidence was intact. “Oh, I knew it would be hot—I just didn’t think it’d be that good,” he admitted, licking his lips as he tilted his head slightly, watching Xavier through the screen. “You keep fucking her like that, and I might have to beg to be in the middle next time.”

Xavier rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small, pleased smirk that curled at his lips. Rose sighed beneath him, her fingers soothing through his hair, her body melting into the mattress, completely spent. He pressed a soft kiss to her chest, his voice lower now, tired but warm. “Come home soon?”

Caleb’s smirk softened slightly, something warm flickering behind his violet eyes, something steady. “I’ll be home in a couple of days,” he murmured, voice smoother now, easier, like this was just another conversation between them. “You won’t even have time to miss me.”

Xavier hummed, tucking his face against Rose’s chest, pressing one last kiss to her skin before closing his eyes. “Doubt that,” he muttered, his fingers tracing lazy circles along her ribs, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of her breath beneath him. Caleb only smiled, watching them for another few quiet moments before finally ending the call.

[plumsaffron]

Ayoooooo, the Miraculous salt fandom really is a different breed of toxic and hateful. They rly ought to tone it down bc Lila Rossi isn’t coming back. I don’t like Lila either but they just make so much hate content and not just slipping past the filters that it’s baffling.

Everytime I read or look for crossover content, this is exactly how I feel bc I don’t want to see any miraculous characters or even a mere mention in them. I feel like going into a trap filled maze these days.

The Miraculous Plague Fandom is filled with a lot people who have nothing else better to do but be oxymorons. Ignoring or taking a break from Lila is not their strong suit. Lila took two breaks why can't this fandom try that instead of consuming their curse of hatred. You even got that Mariah Chloe voice over being asking what with people hate towards Lila. Then you see a gang of losers (even constructing their comments in a mask to shut down her or anyone's interest in Lila) being static same old scrubs but it figures.

It's amusing to me. There's video saying she's an aimless antagonist with the usual crap that reels in Lila haters usually to wank to or increase their extreme seeethery. But what makes me laugh is observing how aimless this stupid moronculous fandom ironically is. The folly of the aimless miraculous maleficent plaguedom.

They are just a bunch of Ripslingers to Dusty Crophopper (if you're familiar with that movie or the game). Or I can say they want to be brave but will disperse when someone says some messed crap against her without realizing that would affect many things. From hating the writers crap and how things are going to wanting the worst done upon Lila by the writers.

Like HUH. They dislike to loathe the ml&cn writers or characters and spam all this here's what I'll do or rewrites AUs whatever but they would want who they hate to make things worse in a leave fandom inducing way, after this Recreation crap. Loathe writers but wants the show to be better or reboot or be within their standards but wants to stuff in their minds some loathsome crap against Lila. REAL INTELLIGENT, EH?

For a plague filled fandom that thinks they truly know what's up. Well... They ironically found a way to be more dumb or pathetic than characters in the show ever can be. Makes since though because they haven't realized Lila's existence is the true attack upon this miracle plague fandom but they are distracted and fooled themselves so badly that they might not ever see or let go.

Sucks though cause I know around several more characters from other series that get treated just as bad or even worse for bigger dumb reasons (Prosecutor Godot/Diego Armando, Shadow in his own game or the game itself, Princess Elise, Wallflower Blush, Broly The Legendary Super Saiyan, Sasuke Uchiha, his parents, and his clan). Fandoms tend to ignore context and latch onto to manure and bandwagon the propaganda against this character train. Even if you show it was never like that, it's almost always too late. Many are just completely incapable of understanding. They pick what they wish is valid. If it doesn't meet their interest... Well Compromise Doesn't Exist. Conform and boot lick or Resist or Die trying (I think I'm gonna start calling the ladyplague fandom, Leaf Villagers or shinobi drones).

That fiance death thanks to this accursed fandom wasn't even enough to gets these buffoons to chill or rethink or lay in grass. Soon as she faded into memory, the true nature of the ladyplaguedom showed their faces. Instability of handling Lila even made some completely turn their back because they didn't get what they wanted despite they could be better and let go but nope as you know the splurge of salt fics through the years (couple to few years on here, like almost every week searching Lila Rossi and there's like a cluster of salt prompts or salt fic links or memes to mock her. It was annoying.)

Other sites the hatred is strong too (twitter reddit but deviantart specifically where Sunset Shimmer makes her bleed or Kagami and Marinette I think punch her stomach and she's damaged. Reactions to Lila by other characters from other shows or being destroyed or harmed by them. Other forms of vilification or dehumanization). YouTube was slightly less until defenders or neutrals vanished or went inactive (1-5 channels).

It's technically worse here.

Though surfing and tragically find people going out their way to have or prompt rape fics of Lila . Guess what? It's the main heroes Ladybug and Cat Noir doing it. And then November of 2023 some scrum prompted scum to make a story of Lila being violated by Adrien because Lila got Marinette expelled. Then later on the recents feed another days later on lila rossi search. A disgusting ask with the user then replied with the after affects. Crap like this related crap on A03 too (but figures heck some person had Adrien violate Marinette too. What is with people making this ruined destroyed one that? Like why?)

Revelation really solidified why this maggot infested fandom deserves to be derided but let them be distracted by Confrontation and think they achieved something. Lila starts doing cosplay and it destroyed this fandom but really it was just a Cerise on top the Lila cake of Revelation. She can do the same dang thing without being Cerise but stupid viewers want to go too deep into it. So deep that they discovered a new reason to want to hate clown or fear her. So deep that they go out their way thirsting her to be an adult and so deep they can't see why that should not be quenched for.

Stupid humans so bored or absolutely pathetic that they actually found the ultimate way to spit on that woman fan of Lila.

Kind of fascinating.

Hating so much without thinking beyond.

TRUE FLOPS

Idk. Perhaps you go on a blocking everyone spree or tag. Tumblr tagging is weird. it doesn't always like specifically show up with results to what was searched.

Like if you search umm "fugly fandom", results may show that or "fandom" or "beautiful fandom" or some ice cube image and one of the tags say "fugly ice" which cross tags it presence. I guess search tags here kind of works like an "and or" statement.

All I can say is do what you can to avoid or ignore ML it on social media.

[narrators-journal]

request: ryomina with your stalker au, with bottom minato.

prompts: 5,12,13 and somnophilia.

I tried so hard to make this one good. I tried SO hard! I WANT it to be good, but god DAMN have I been tweaking this for days. Between the other asks, art, and trying to get some downtime, I’ve been working on this and honing it. So, I pray it’s good. I hope you enjoy, and man could I use some encouragement for the persona asks. The only content that gets liked is hxh stuff, but my passion is for persona…

Sorry if that’s a bit whiney, lol. I also just want more traction on my kinktober stuff in general. I think I might be shadow banned for some of these lol.

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: dubcon, drugging, stalking, serial killer Ryoji, 2 am writing lol. Somnophilia attempts. It’s at least lightly there, breeding kink is also at last implied, pet play, orgasm delay, it’s a p pervy mix!

Three years ago, at 10 pm on a Saturday night Minato Arisato would’ve been out drinking and flirting with any possible man who gave him attention. Prowling bars with his friends for any boost of serotonin or Dopamine he could get. 

However, that was in the era of his life before he had an unhinged, lovesick serial killer stalking him. 

So, instead of going clubbing on a Saturday, Minato was watching the clock tick down with a cup of coffee and some cheesy, garish game show to keep him up. Only two or three more hours. If I don’t get a lily by midnight, I’m free. He told himself. Tearing his tired eyes from the TV to peek out his living room window in hopes of seeing a familiar figure approaching his home in the yellow light of the street lights. Only a few more hours.

That’s what he reminded himself, anyway. Mostly to block out the nagging truth that one missed ‘anniversary’ didn’t promise freedom. He just had to keep up hope…

And piss. Minato had to piss like a motherfucker.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to bite that bullet. Putting down his coffee and making a swift beeline for the bathroom, the blue-haired emo tried to be quick so as to lessen the opening that lightning-fast bastard needed to get into his home. All the time he was away, keeping his senses on high alert for any sign of windows or door opening, floor boards squeaking, or any other minute sign of a change in his tiny home. Yet, when he finally returned to his couch, he found no signs of change.

No knife-wielding brunette lounging with a bag of chips, no love notes, no flowers waiting in a ribbon-tied bouquet on his wobbly coffee table. He could breathe a sigh of relief.

So, Minato happily flopped back onto the aged, squishy cushions of his second-hand couch. Stretching out and checking the time as his game show ended. 

10:55. Five more minutes, and it’ll only be two more hours. He told himself. Throwing his legs back off of the couch to go peer out of his peep hole for any sign of the serial killer, or gifts on his porch. Nothing. Two more hours.

So, downing the remainder of his coffee, Minato let out a slow breath and settled back down on the couch to wait out that remaining window with obnoxiously high energy shows. Focusing in on the bright colors and hyper visuals, Minato tried to put the time out of his mind. Keeping his hearing keen for any suspicious sounds, and...progressively drifting to the left.

Before he knew it, his eyes were struggling to stay on the screen, and the words of the characters were almost nonsensical.

Through that heavy fog of sleep, though, Minato felt something warm glide over his thigh. The first of many sensations to slowly trickle back in and pull him out of the claws of slumber. The presence of...someone, between his legs on the couch, hips pressed to his, and the garbled, nonsensical whispers of affection calling his consciousness back to the surface as equally as it stirred up a breath-taking bonfire under his pale skin. The fact that said someone was Ryoji Mochizuki, was the last thing to register.

Ryoji...Mochizuki. Minato’s serial killer stalker. The man who thought breaking into his house and almost murdering his parents passed as a date...

In a heartbeat, Minato’s grey eyes flew open. Fuelled by nothing but confusion and a groggy bolt of panic, the groggy man tried to see or push the person nibbling at his throat away. It was almost dizzying. Disoriented from waking up in a pitch-black living room and the chill of the AC’s cold air on legs he was certain were clothed when he’d passed out, Minato grunted. He groped around at the warm form above him until he could finally shove at Ryoji’s chest with a more coordinated intention to try and get that cursed, skillful mouth away from his throat. 

However, all the brunette did in response to that was to capture one of his wrists to pin it against the arm of the couch with the hand that wasn’t leaving an overwhelmingly hot trail from Minato’s knee to the front of his pubic area. Making the emo’s stomach flutter with a thrill he’d not felt for a year. “S-stop…” He tried, regardless of the bubbling stew of lust and carnal pleasure while attempting to blink away the groggy sluggishness and siren song of neglected needs. Letting himself grip Ryoji’s button-up shirt while the killer took a break from his siege of kisses to hum into Minato’s throat, the vibrations seeming to resonate throughout the blue-haired man’s bones. “Well, good morning, funeral lily~ Happy anniversary~” nipping the man’s sweet spot to pull out a small moan. “You’re so cute when you sleep, hope you don’t mind me jumping the gun a bit,” he added, nibbling and kissing a trail along his throat until the emo squirmed and vaguely tried to kick at him.  “Stop...wait…” He tried again, only for the brunette to sit up and lift his leg to his shoulder, making the sleepy man grunt slightly. “What the...Ryoji, don’t-” His mumble got cut off when the man leaned back down to kiss him. Drinking down the wheeze given at the shaggy-haired man being folded, before pulling away to smile warmly down at him as he let go of his captive wrist to cup his face. 

        “Relax, handsome, I just want to make you feel good. Just let those sedatives work their magic, and go back to sleep, okay?” He purred, I guess that confirms that...

On top of that, Ryoji already had an annoyingly melodious voice that stuck in Minato’s head, but the soothing warmth of the man’s gentle touches and kisses to his inner thigh, plus the haze of lust and drowsiness all worked together to make the words that would’ve normally dumped a bucket of ice water on Minato, captivating. God, but I’d listen to him read the phone buck...book…

With that slurred thought, the emo was finally drug back into the sweet embrace of a doze. Not that he properly slept, though, it was more like he was merely kept in some sort of limbo. 

Trapped in a state of unfocused consciousness that heightened each brush of Ryoji’s lips over his pale skin, or caress of his fingers down Minato’s belly, over his twitching, eager cock to a nearly unbearable level. Moans falling from the blue-haired man like water from a cracked bucket when the delicious feeling of the killer’s warm tongue pushing into his ass registered through the fog. Almost too warm to tolerate as it worked its way into him, but each thrust of the wet muscle still made Minato’s belly flutter and his breaths race.

Wait, when did he move though? A more sensible voice asked, the only voice of logic in the storm of bliss and drowsy thoughts. “R-ryoji!” he gasped, that inkling of confusion drowned out by a sudden onslaught of dizzying excitement crashing through the barrier of sedated relaxation. Rocking Minato’s entire body with the breathtaking flurry of keep going! Hurry! More! while a hand blindly reaching down to tangle into his stalker’s pushed-back hair. Arching his back and pushing himself against the stalker’s tongue when the man moaned into him and sent an earthquake of nearly blinding bliss up into the emo.

However, as much as Minato ground his hips into Ryoji’s mouth, the taller man detangled his fingers to sit back up, taking Minato’s knees onto his shoulders. Catching the emo’s hand when it didn’t follow the same way and kissing his knuckles.  “Not so fast, funeral lily. Let me enjoy my toy a bit longer.” He hummed, his husky voice making the groggy man shudder and twitch. Too aware of his ass on Ryoji’s strong thighs and the brunette’s impressive dick settled against him, instead of inside of him. It was frustrating. “I...wanna get off…” was his only coherent mumble in response. His grey eyes struggling to stay open to watch the man smile sweetly.         “Don’t I always get you off? I’d never dream of leaving my funeral lily needy.” He promised, letting Minato’s hand go to stroke the man’s erection as he continued in a lower, darker purr, “If I did that, you might go to someone else for relief, and we both know how I feel about sharing~” 

Almost a dare. An invitation for Minato to even try to hook up with someone a second time. Yet, with the restless buzz that zipped over his skin, and the bolts of pleasure sent through him with each slow, teasing stroke of the man’s hand, Minato didn’t spit back the usual venom, he just tried to see the serial killer’s soft, contrastingly friendly body that hid a scary strength under an average amount of pudge.

After all, he was a predator. So, like his voice, Ryoji Mochizuki’s physique was annoyingly appealing. With a round face, bright blue eyes that twinkled like demented sapphires, and dark brown hair he usually wore pushed back, but was now allowed to droop into his face from the blue-haired emo’s grip. If it hadn’t been for his ‘hobby’, Minato would have jumped him on sight after their first meeting..

But, Ryoji Mochizuki was still a serial killer. He got a senseless thrill out of the fear of killing unsuspecting bar goers who just so happened to meet him. He was dangerous, unhinged, and obsessed with Minato over...something he couldn’t be bothered to contemplate. So, instead of being a friend with benefits, the pretty man was Minato’s stalker. His personal amoral, possessive monster that even in his sleepy state, should disgust the shaggy-haired emo.

Yet, the only thing Minato felt was the tingle of taboo excitement and need. A need that worsened when Ryoji let go of his member to slip his hand lower and dip a finger into his hole.  “Damn, good thing I brought lube.” He mumbled, just before the drugged man returned into the relaxing in-between state. Giving into the floaty bliss of near unconsciousness to let the buzz of pleasure sink deeper.

All morality and reality forgotten in the dreamy pleasure of letting Ryoji kiss his thighs and work lubricant into his hole with skilled fingers that coiled the blue-haired man’s stomach into knots, but never let those painful knots come undone. 

No matter his whines, moans, or slightly slurred pleas, the brunette kept him just at the edge of that tantalizing euphoria. Taking breaks now and then to bring him back to earth and into the sway of sleepiness, but always returning to stroking his cock or thrusting one or two fingers into Minato’s ass. Even when the serial killer finally progressed the torment to slipping his cock into him, Minato was kept from that relief with slow thrusts and tender murmurs of,  “-so tight-” “I wish I could put a baby-” “-All mine. My funeral lily.” “No one else’s...all mine-” that only sometimes came into focus through the swirling storm of pleasure and sleep. Outside of that, Ryoji’s words were a garbled, unintelligible mess of noises that Minato struggled to even register hearing while his body jolted with each deep thrust into him.

What the hell is wrong with me? That sensible voice asked while the blue-haired man arched his back when the head of his stalker’s dick brushed that special spot within the blue-haired man, This shouldn’t be...hot. He tried to remind himself, but each growl of possessive ownership took his breath away regardless of that logic..

Their ‘relationship’ held no power here. All that mattered was the delicious sensation of being filled. Having another person’s skin finally slapping against his, and the desire Ryoji held for him was all that Minato could focus on.

Whether or not that desire was healthy didn’t matter either. The blood on the brunette’s hands didn’t matter. Hell, he could’ve been Satan himself, and so long as he stuck to that faster pace he began to set, Minato still would’ve whined like a whore with how each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through every fiber of his being.

He would’ve tried to coordinate his legs to wrap around Ryoji’s hips if he could’ve, but the serial killer still had his knees captive on his shoulders so he could thrust deeper.

      “Ryoji…” Minato wheezed, one of his hands clawing into the arm of the couch behind his head, and the other blindly feeling in the darkness until he found Ryoji’s hand to hold.  “Calm down,” The brunette purred, the dark edge of sadistic pleasure in his sweet words coiling around the emo’s throat like a cobra. The thrill of danger, and the thorough thrusts that almost drove the man into the couch inflating a bubble in his belly. The unfocused limbo of being half awake while being flooded with pleasurable friction only seeming to worsen the building pressure in his body. “Can’t. I’m-I’m gonna-!” As if the mere movement that speaking required was the final blow, that bubble burst. Washing away whatever remained of Minato’s drug-addled thoughts in a tsunami of white-hot bliss so strong, that it left him dazed, panting, and disoriented with a buzzing drowning Ryoji out.

When Minato came back to the situation, he could finally focus just enough to take in the pool of warmth deep in his belly, and the lovesick glint in those pools of moon-drenched blue that Ryoji looked down at him with.  “You’re so pretty, funeral lily.~” He hummed, gently putting Minato’s legs back down so he could freely lean down and kiss the emo’s lips with the tenderness of a loving soulmate until Minato fully gave in to the sedatives. Content with a belly full of cum and angelic kisses.

[sonicasura]

Oh the mage is fucked alright. I'm still in the planning stages on how that goes but I'll tell as soon as I can. He is a bit of a filler event before the last wave acts comes into play. The city needs a bit of a clean up before the battle happens cause if these bad nobles and that mage is not stopped, then theres gonna be big trouble once the big battle is over.

People like them knows when to strike when the enemy is weakened. The mage did not become the royal high mage for nothing, he has the smarts even if he has a ego the size of a moon.

The other heavy topic I have to talk to you about is 9 and what he is currently doing.

9 has much like Kafka been hidding in plain sight, taking on many different forms over the centuries to gain what is needed for his revenge plan. He ain't fused to the Meireki daijkaiju though, instread he is more like a accomplice on what 9 believes are equal grounds and understanding. It is not has he will learn during the big battle.

However, due to the lost of a lot of important technology and various other means, 9 has a very limited way of gaining the much needed army to start the second war. As such, Kafka and everyone has about a little over a year before the battle starts. Which is very good for them in the long term. It also means it takes 9 a lot longer to make those altered wyverns as well, as many just dies before a proper proto type can be made. Then to acutal make altered wyverns that 10 can control.

He is still able to make 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 and 15 though. Through a more natural means given he is a mushroom and has done some special treatments on himself to bascially carry the all to term, then let them grow up more naturally while doing some adjustments here and there. Unfortunatly for everyone, this also allows him to have far better control of his children, with only 10 not being as affected due to his personality and certain events that happened in his early life that has given him a moral compas unlike the rest of his siblings. He hides it well though, and often finds good exuses and facts that makes his more reluctant habits make more sense. 9 honestly thinks 10 is just likes being on the more safer side of things. And the mushroom finds little to believe otherwise.

Much like with Kafka, 9 has pretty much lost everything to the war. And unlike the himbo, 9 was captured and used as a test subjects for decades before his 'savior' came and resuced him. Said savior was a much weaker and in a form similare to Tiny, though a heck of a lot more creepy and evil looking. Specially since it takes the form of a deformed head thats fused with several creatures. He has no idea this kaiju is the one responsible for the death of everything he knows and love, and it manage to trick 9 into its plans.

I'm not trying to make 9 a more likealbe character here. He is very much like his canon self in every aspects. His type of breed of kaiju is very much the scientist type from brith or spawn rather. But he has become twisit thanks to the events of the war and he has actualy revenage planned they just world domination in mind. He wants the ones responsible to suffer as much as he has, and he will practically do anything to get it. Something the Meireki daijkaiju takes advantage of.

As for the Meireki daikaiju itself, I'm having a bit of trouble to figure out why it started the war to begin with, since we really don't know a lot about it to begin with. Nor how it came to be for that matter. If you got any ideas, please tell me. Anything would help really given I've been stuck on this part for months.

I've also changed a bit on how 10 becomes Soshiro's living armour and battle companion. Through a special contract and a special scroll with a magical ritual Kafka finds among the remains of his home, 10 will be transformed into a familiare of sorts for Soshiro after the surprise attack. Which does a lot more damage since 10 bascially attacks the whole city. And makes even more important that they get Kafka back to full power and fully healed.

As Soshiro's familiare, 10 can transform into a battle armour similare to that of the canon verson, with a few more fantasy like armour features and the like. Along with being able to interact in his normal form as he gains it back thanks to the contract. But it also puts some much needed restrains on the kaiju too, as 10 is a bit more wild in this verson thanks to how 9 has raised him.

Meireki doesn't need a reason to cause death and destruction. Considering it laughed at the spirits of the fallen samurai in canon, the fucker was malevolent from square one. Everything is just playthings to Meireki.

[221bshrlocked]

i remember...

Pairings: Captain Rex x afab! Jedi Reader

Words: 8579

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Mutual Pining. Some mention of blood loss but it’s not graphic. Love Confessions due to anesthesia-like fluids. I make up some random stuff about bacta so just ignore that bit please. Sad Rex. Heated Make-Out Session. Oral (female receiving). Squirting. Oversensitivity. Biting. Slight Dirty Talk. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Breeding Kink. Creampie. Rex being a gentleman after sex. 

Summary: “You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you. 

A/N: This is for @imarvelatthestars​ who is also taking part in the @cloneficgiftexchange​. I hope you enjoy this and I can’t wait for you to read the two other fics as well. Also, hi it’s nice to meet you :) This was originally going to be just fluff but my hands slipped and they went all the way so I hope you don’t mind. P.S. This is the first time I write for our dear Captain so I hope I got his character down correctly. If not, please let me know how I can write him better. As always, reblogs are appreciated. 

It was becoming unbearable, mustering up the courage to fight every day in a war that meant absolutely nothing, that held no benefits for anyone except for those in political standings. The feeling of dread only worsened in the past few months, almost as soon as you were added to the 501st as another General. Count Dooku’s thirst for blood has increased, and you had this fear that it wasn’t only him. No, there was something much bigger playing at hand. 

Perhaps someone even. 

Shaking the dreadful thoughts aside, you scan the grounds quickly to see if any of your men were still alive. As you walk through the carnage, you will yourself to come to terms with the reality of this new life that has been thrust upon you, the recognition that it was most likely worse for your men making you wince angrily before returning to the task at hand. 

“General,” the familiar voice of your Captain shifts your attention behind you, and you nod with an exasperation you’re sure is visible to him as you head towards his equally fatigued body. 

“Any news on whether Anakin managed to get the intel?” You rub the side of your temple as you wait for Captain Rex to focus on you instead of his dead brothers surrounding you. 

“He uh, he didn’t get there in time. He thinks one of the super tactical droids destroyed everything before it self-destructed.” You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you look into his eyes for a moment to gauge his reaction. Grief swims in his eyes as he returns your gaze, and you hate that you don’t have to look at him to know what’s going through his mind. His Force signature is a cool shade of blue, one that parallels the lines adorning his armor, and your heart clenches when you see how different it is from the normally calming purple hue often surrounding him and setting your mind at ease. You’re reminded once again of just how much of a toll this war is taking on him and his brothers, and you turn away from him out of fear of bursting into tears and making matters worse. 

If only you could comfort him beyond what’s deemed appropriate. 

If only you could tell him how you feel. 

“Don’t worry General, we’ll get them next time.” You hate that he’s trying to make you feel better when it is you who should be offering him supporting words. No words manage to part your lips, and you hum at him as you kick one of the battle droids nearby, trying to distract yourself from pushing past those hidden boundaries and embracing him in an attempt to return those affections he so clearly pushed upon you. 

Just as you walk around him, you sense a strange feeling overtake your mind, and you glance to the side quickly, not really thinking of what you’re doing as you step in front of the Captain and activate your lightsaber. The sequence of the blaster shots drives your anger deeper, and you evade them to the best of your abilities, away from Rex and yourself until they each hit the battle droid attempting to kill you. 

Scanning the area one last time, your mouth runs dry when you turn around and watch pure and utter shock display as clear as daylight on your Captain’s features. Pushing the weapon back into the holster around your hips, you smile at him to let him know that he would always be safe with you, only to tilt your head in confusion when he doesn’t return the gesture. You follow his line of sight and watch as the adrenaline of the battle leaves your body and makes way for a searing hot pain shooting through your side. Pushing your palm against your hip, you take it away and find it laced with fresh blood.

“C-Commander?” 

In all the time you have spent with Rex, you have never once heard him display such unadulterated fear, not when he was near death all those months ago, nor when he thought there was no escape for him and his brothers after a particularly draining battle. 

“Rex.”

You whisper his name as you fall to your knees, but strong arms reach for you before you hit the ground, turning you over and pushing violently against the wound to prevent it from bleeding. 

“Kriff, why- why would you…you shouldn’t have-” He can’t get a single word out, and you try your best to set aside the pain shooting through your body so you can enjoy being in his arms. You feel your muscles give out, barely allowing you to reach up and caress his cheek. You don’t realize you’ve painted his beautiful skin with blood until you see tears rolling down his cheeks and stream a pink line to his chin. 

“You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you. 

“Stay with me, mesh’la.” He leans down and rests his forehead against your own, distracting you enough before he lifts you in his arms and runs to the nearest gunship. You clutch onto his shoulder like your life depends on it, unable to hold back from crying as each movement sends throbbing stabs down your spine and across your hip. You can faintly hear his apologies, and you rest your head against his shoulder to distract yourself once again. This close, you can smell his natural scent, and you shiver when you recognize how musky and sweet it is as it seeps through your senses. 

You think you hear him call for Kix, but you can’t stay awake for much longer, the blood loss and your body’s fatigued nature taking over as soon as you get on the gunship. Rex puts you down with ease, but he snaps your name harshly when he sees you shutting your eyes and going limp in his arms again. 

“Don’t close your eyes,” it’s his Captain voice, and you laugh at the demanding tone he’s aiming at you, only to cough violently and clutch at your side when your body jolts forward. 

“I thought I g-give the orders here?” He doesn’t bother to smile at you, and you hate that he knows you’re only trying to diffuse the tension. When you look up at him, you find him frowning down at you, the blue aura around him now turning even darker as he looks around to see if Kix is nearby. 

You gulp as the ship comes to life, and the harder you try to remain awake, the more tired your mind becomes. As you look around you, you find several of the men staring at you with worry etched on their features, and you feel a sense of peace wash over you at the thought of being so important to them. You can no longer keep yourself conscious, and just as you turn your head to the side and see Kix jumping into the gunship, you surrender to a deep sleep filled with midnight blue embraces and loving words. 

A bright light wakes you from your haze, and you flutter your eyes quickly to get used to the blinding rays shining down on you. You try to get up immediately but a hand to your shoulder keeps you laying down, and you look to the side to see Kix whispering calming words to you. 

“You nearly gave us a fright Commander,” he says after a while, and you look around to try and figure out where you are, only to find an extremely uncomfortable and worried Captain standing by your bed. 

“Rex…”

“What were you thinking, hmm?” He snaps harshly at you, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity before you turn to Kix. Before you can say anything, Kix walks around and pushes Rex’s chest, urging him to move back and calm himself. 

“You may be the Captain, but I outrank you here. I will not have you yelling at one of my patients. Understand?” His tone is firm, and you giggle at the thought of hearing one of Rex’s men not minding getting physical with him. 

“I…feel weird.” You sigh deeply and look down, only to see several tubes coming in and out of your skin. 

“That would be the Bacta IV. You weren’t doing so well Commander, a simple bacta patch wouldn’t have done the trick.” Kix removes himself from Rex but remains in between the two of you, checking on the needles one last time before moving to the other end of the room. You watch as he makes himself busy, and whatever conscious part of your mind thinks that he’s only pretending so he can give the two of you some privacy. 

“To answer your question Captain, I- uhhh…I wasn’t thinking.” You drag the sheets down your body, suddenly feeling flushed as Rex continues to stare at you with a fiery anger you never thought him capable of. 

“Actually, that’s…n-not true. I was thinking…but- you know what I mean.” You are not making much sense, and when Rex sighs before pulling up a chair to sit next to you, you smile at you and reach for his hand. He takes it reluctantly but never once looks at you. Neither of you say anything for a while, and you slowly begin to fall asleep when he continues to rub your wrist with his thumb. 

“What were you thinking mesh’la…”

It’s a rhetorical question, or at least, you would have recognized that it is had you been more aware and less drugged. You open your eyes and gaze into his own, finding them filled with unshed tears. He looks defeated, and you frown at him while you tug on his hand to bring him closer to you. 

“Don’t…don’t cry. It makes me sad to see you cry Rex.”

He chuckles then and you smile at him, rubbing the back of his hand in return to soothe him a little. 

“I was thinking of you, and- and how it would kill me if I were to lose you. I can’t lose you Rex, I- I would not survive another day without you…I love you too much to let you go.” You’re not sure why the room is suddenly silent. All you know is, Rex’s Force signature has turned a deep shade of red and his fingers stopped drawing patterns on your skin. You think you hear Kix turn around but you’re too busy looking into the Captain’s eyes to register anything that’s not him. 

“Mesh’la,” you want to ask him what the word means, but your eyes grow heavy yet again, and you rest your cheek on the pillow while gazing into his hazel, brown orbs. Before you can say anything else, you fall right back to sleep, completely missing Rex’s reaction to your confession and Kix’s reassurances that you were stable but required to rest further. 

You dream of a time filled with peace, of longing gazes and soft caresses. Your mind fills your heart with hopes and wishes, ones you pretend are not impossible to reach. Your heart, once guarding a close-kept secret, finally feels as light as a feather, and it clenches softly when it hears revelations of a similar love, words yo uneven thought would be reciprocated as desperately. 

It’s this last sensation that wakes you again, except this time, you’re less dazed than before but much more awake. Sitting up quickly, you study the room you’re in and take a few deep breaths to try and collect your bearings. 

“Commander, you’re safe. You’re alive and safe. Breathe, breathe for me.” You look up and watch as Kix guides you through breathing techniques, and only when you’re relaxed and aware of your surroundings do you finally notice the other figure standing nearby. 

“How long have I been out?” You ask as you look down and move the medbay gown to the side to see the wound. It’s fully healed and you throw Kix a quick glance, silently thanking him for everything that he has done for you. 

“Almost 22 hours, sir. It’s quite remarkable actually, most people would take much longer to heal, even with the bacta. Then again, you’re a Jedi after all.” He checks your vitals, not bothering to mention that Rex is in the room. When he’s sure you’re all clear, he steps aside and finishes some reports on his holopad. You look to your right and watch as Rex slowly approaches you, sitting down on a chair near your bedside and slowly reaching for your hand. You’re surprised by the gesture but don’t deny him, looking back to Kix to see if he is aware of what his Captain is doing. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a bantha ran me over,” you laugh at your own reply, but Rex doesn’t grace you with a hint of a smile. There is something nagging at the back of your mind, and you narrow your eyes at your joined hands, only to gasp lightly when he rubs your wrist and moves closer to you. If Kix notices what’s happening, he says nothing and turns around to give you some privacy. 

“Do you…do you remember anything?” Rex asks reluctantly, and you get the sense that he wants to tell you something but is holding back out of fear of your reaction. 

“I remember walking through the battle, and…and talking with you. I remember a droid trying to shoot at you but I took him down before he hurt you. And…I remember getting shot at.” You recollect the events of the last rotation to the best of your abilities, and when you stop speaking, you notice Rex’s aura shift to a cool haze once more. 

Kriff, what was it? 

“You don’t remember anything else?” He asks yet again, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, his tone of voice bordering that of a man who has just lost everything he ever had. 

“I- I uhh…no. I don’t.” You shake your head several times to figure out if he was referring to anything specific. When you turn to Kix to ask him if he knows what his Captain is talking about, you notice an apologetic expression on his features, one that was not aimed at you but his brother. Before you can say anything, Rex lets go of your hands, making you wish you can give him whatever answer he was searching for. 

“I see,” it’s all Rex says before he stands up and pushes the chair back to the wall. You watch as he takes a stance and salutes you, his eyes never meeting your own again as he thanks you for saving him before running out of the room. You don’t turn away from the shut door until Kix walks by and checks your vitals again. 

There is so much you want to ask him, but knowing Kix, you get the sense that he wouldn’t tell you even if you begged. He was good at keeping secrets, always has been. 

“You’re cleared to leave General, though I do suggest you take it easy for the next few days. You may have physically healed but the psychological strain will take longer to get back to normal. Will you be needing any pain medication?” Kix asks as he takes out all of the needles and tubes from your arms, and you shake your head while you look up at him, hoping that you find whatever answer Rex was looking for swimming in his eyes. He avoids your gaze altogether, and you shut your eyes in irritation at the thought of upsetting Rex. 

Maker, what was it?

You do your best to not take your frustration out on Kix as you get dressed, and before you leave, you thank him for taking care of you for the past rotation. He offers you his best wishes before returning to his seat and you make your way back to your quarters in the Jedi Temple slowly, all the while trying to figure out what transpired that made Rex ask you several times if you remembered anything, but more importantly, what you could have possibly said that upset Rex so much and made him leave without sparing you a second glance. 

You keep to yourself as you head to your rooms, searching your mind for any clue as to what has happened after the battle. When you finally make it to the privacy of your space, you remove all of your clothes and go straight to the refresher, wanting to get rid of the blood and grime that has stuck to your skin for the past day. But no matter what you do, you can’t remember anything past the battlefield, and you feel your mind almost collapse on itself when the annoyance of memory loss turns into sheer anger. 

Force above, what was it?

It occurs to you much later than you would care to admit that there was no way you can recall anything if you’re this unstable, and against your better judgment, you make your way to one of the meditation rooms instead of getting some rest as Kix suggested. As soon as you enter the quiet place, you move near one of the fountains, finding the consistent sound of water soothing to your soul. As you sit down, you take a few deep breaths and clear your mind of anything not related to the Captain of the 501st. 

As you initially thought, it’s much more difficult to focus your mind when all you can feel is guilt for making Rex feel so disappointed and sad. You recall back all of the conversations you’ve held with him, especially the ones that lasted for an entire night as you kept watch before a serious battle. You remember the snide remarks aimed at Anakin, and the jokes he often laughed at the expense of Ahsoka. You remember and remember…

But no matter what you think of, you still can’t quite figure out what happened in the past rotation. 

Willing yourself to focus harder, you decide to empty your mind altogether, even of those moments with Rex that you cherished and kept closely-guarded within your heart. 

The Coruscanti sun slowly moves past the horizon but you remain seated against the flowing waters, pleading with the Force to give you a sliver of a hint so you can fix whatever wrong you made against Rex. 

It’s only when your senses finally still do you see a faint dark red pass through your mind’s eye. You zero in on the memory, pushing yourself past your levels of comfort to seek out the desperate aura once again. 

I was thinking of you.

Your voice rings through your mind, not sounding normal to your ears, but you are confident it is your own. Clenching your fists tightly, you seek out the memory until it flashes before your eyes as clear as the searing Twin Suns on a hot Tatooine day. 

I can’t lose you Rex.

A faint sensation passes down your arm to your wrist, and you feel Rex’s thumb halt in its movement the more you reveal to him your secret. You can see his hands shaking as you pull him closer to you, the words spilling from your mouth making your heart skip a beat as realization washes over you. 

I love you too much to let you go.

The last image flashing before your eyes is the look of utter shock that befalls Rex’s handsome features, and had it not been for the soft manner in which he whispers that one word to you in return, you would think he was completely repulsed by what you just confessed to him. 

You open your eyes instantly, wincing yet again when your senses become overloaded with the sounds and scents all around you. Looking around the room, you take a few minutes to come to terms with the reality of what has transpired between yourself and the Captain. 

Maker. 

You had told him what you promised yourself you would never reveal to him. 

In a moment of weakness, your heart decided to reveal its deepest secret instead of continuing to keep it hidden. 

Looking outside the large glass windows, you notice how dark it became outside and curse yourself for taking so long to remember. It would be inappropriate to go to him now.

You look down to your hand and trace the skin Rex has touched all those hours ago, smiling to yourself when you recognize that your heart has already made the decision for you. 

Not caring for how mad you must look, you race outside of the meditation rooms and run through the hallways of the Temple, ignoring the strange and concerning looks from the others still awake as you make it past the gates of your home and towards the barracks of the 501st Legion. It is raining uncontrollably outside, and you nearly lose your footing a few times as you run across the grounds towards the familiar building near the Jedi Temple. You see a handful of men hanging outside the barracks, and they try to call out to you to see if you need any assistance, but you pay them no mind, heading straight to the quarters of the Captain and ignoring how soaked you’ve become in your journey to him. 

When you reach the hallways housing the Clone leaders, you slow down and move past the doors silently, praying to the maker that he was in his quarters and not elsewhere. As you reach the end of the hallway, you come to a stop in front of the large, steel doors housing Rex, and before you can think twice of what you’re doing, you push a few buttons on the pad beside the doors, waiting patiently for them to slide open to you. 

There is a faint sound of frustrated sighs from behind the door, and you nearly laugh at the sudden turn of events, but the doors slide open and reveal an extremely tired and irritated Clone Captain, one that had just gotten out of the showers from the looks of it. 

“Fives, if I have to tell you one more time- kriff, G-General!” His eyes widen in horror at the sight of you, and he walks out to the hallway to see if there are any signs of danger that led you to him. When he finds it as empty as ever, he turns back around and eyes you suspiciously. 

“General, what- what are you doing here?” Rex asks, continuing to avoid your gaze as he moves back to his quarters and tugs you along with him. You realize too late that you probably shouldn’t be found at such an odd hour in your Captain’s private rooms, but you brush the thought aside, knowing that this could not wait for another time. You don’t respond right away though, and Rex studies you slowly before moving to his dresser and taking out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. 

“Here, change into these.” He throws the articles of clothing towards you, but you throw them back on the bed instantly, approaching him slowly to avoid scaring him. 

“Captain.” You try to catch his attention, but Rex is adamant on not sparing you a single glance, moving to the other end of the room and grabbing one of his shirts before putting it on quickly. 

“I don’t mind General,” he attempts to distract you, and you shake your head at him while following him around the small room. 

“Captain, please.”

“You’re going to catch a cold, and I’m not going to hear the end of it from Kix.” Rex ignores whatever you’re saying and rubs his temples furiously, making you wish he would just look at you instead of avoiding you as if you were just another commanding officer. 

As if you hadn’t spilled your heart out to him a day ago. 

Your frustrations nearly get to you, but you quickly come to understand that the man in front of you would continue ignoring your pleas if you didn’t cut to the chase and tell him what you came here for. 

“I remember.” 

Rex stops in his pacing, dropping his arms to his side and looking at the gray wall ahead of him. He doesn’t move a muscle, and your heart skips a beat when the hue around him turns into that familiar shade of burgundy once more, the same one that graced your sight when you told him how much you love him. 

“I remember, Rex.”

You repeat your words and watch as he slowly turns around and meets your eyes in a heated gaze. He continues to remain silent and you take the chance to step closer to him, hoping that he doesn’t get spooked by your revelation and walk away again. 

“You- you remember?” His question is laced with a faltering anxiety that you hate you’ve caused him to feel, and you close the last bit of space between the two of you, smiling at him as you reach for his hand and rub your thumb over his wrist. 

“I remember…I remember everything Rex.” 

He gulps down at you, watching carefully as you extend his wrist up to your mouth and lay the softest of kisses across the sensitive skin beneath your thumb. His sharp intake of breath sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can say anything else, Rex pushes you back against the nearest wall and attacks your lips in a desperate kiss. You moan into him immediately, throwing your arms around his shoulders just as he leans down and grabs your hips to hoist you up in between his rigid body and the solid wall behind you. 

You part your lips in a gasp and Rex takes advantage of your shock, sneaking his tongue into your mouth and devouring you without a care for anything except the lewd noises you are gracing him with. He doesn’t know where he can touch you, but as he feels your nail sink into his neck, he breaks the kiss and moans your name over and over again, giving you but a moment of respite before lunging for your mouth once again. You’re soaking wet, and you want to warn him so he doesn’t get wet as well, but he doesn’t let up once, moving down your jaw and licking the droplets of water sticking to your skin. His tongue feels hot against your already flushed skin, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain, not when you finally had him in your arms, stealing your breath with such needy kisses. You don’t realize you’re crying until he pulls away abruptly and looks at you with concern. 

“No, please…don’t stop. I’m just- I’m so happy.” You try to bring him back again but he’s much stronger than you, keeping some bit of distance between your mouth until he can ask you that burning question. 

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you, mesh’la?”

“No, gods no. I never thought you’d reciprocate my feelings Rex, and- and when I remembered the way you looked at me, I…I ran over here.” Your smile grows when you notice the soft smirk gracing his handsome features, and you lean your forehead against his own briefly to relish in the moment. 

“I love you, cyare…so damn much. I- I thought I lost you back there…couldn’t, couldn’t believe what you did for me. And then you told me why and I nearly lost my mind all over again.” He lays as many kisses as possible across your entire face, making you sniffle each time he reveals to you what was going through his mind. 

“I love you too Rex, have been ever since I joined your legion.” The sentiment manages to put a halt to his words and he looks at you for what you deem is too long before leaning down and taking your lips in between his own again. It’s much less frantic than before, but it is just as deeply felt, and you tilt your head to the side to deepen it further, whining against him when he removes the both of you from the wall and walks back to his bed. 

He lays you down softly and continues to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, swearing beneath his breath when you reach for his shirt and try to remove it off of him.

“Rex, what- oh kriff, what does that word mean?” You manage to ask in between each kiss and nip he marks your body with, whispering his name over and over again when he chuckles at you and sits up to remove his shirt. You bite into your lower lip as soon as he reveals his broad chest to you, giggling like a little girl as Rex throws his shirt aside and drags his hand up and down your body. 

“Why don’t I show you sweetheart?” The Captain descends down upon you possessively, dragging his hands everywhere with an aggressiveness you’ve never seen him display before. He has you whimpering in the span of a few minutes, and with each bit of fabric he rips from your body, you’re left wishing he would put you out of your misery and claim you. 

“Please, Rex.” You beg shamelessly, covering your eyes with your arm when you’re left in nothing but your undergarments. 

“Shh, I got you cyar’ika…I got you.” The Captain coos at you as he traces lines up and down your body, passing his fingers in between your thighs teasingly and laughing when he notices goosebumps erupt across your skin. You peak from above your wrist, only to find him studying you closely and with a hunger unseen on his features before. 

“S-stop looking at me like that.” You turn your head to the side when he drags your arms away from your face and places them above your head, making you wish he wasn’t enjoying making you flustered. 

“Like what?” He’s nearly breathless as he asks you the question, not caring for how wanton he looks as he hovers his lips above your sternum before slowly making his way down your stomach. 

“Like…like-” You can’t find the words to tell him what he looks like, mostly because you know he’ll only laugh and reiterate whatever you say in agreement and cause you to feel even more embarrassed at being the subject of his scrutiny. 

“Like I want to eat you? Like I want to devour every fucking inch of you? Like I want to mark you with my teeth and hands until the whole kriffing galaxy knows who’s making you feel good? Is that how I’m looking at you sweet girl?” He pronounces each question with a harsh bite to your skin, smiling wickedly at you as he descends between your thighs and shoves them wide open to make room for himself. 

“Y-yes…I- oh gods please Rex, just- just…”

“I hate to break it to you ner cyare, but I will never,” he growls his need for you against the edge of your panties, biting down and chuckling when you twitch beneath him and reach for his shoulder, “ever,” his voice is much rougher, and you think that perhaps he will kill you through sheer frustration, “ stop looking at you like that.” You whine his name, and as you try to ask him once more to not be so brazen with you, he shoves his nose into your core and breathes in deeply. It’s absolutely filthy, the manner in which he nudges along the damp material hiding you from him while staring directly into your eyes. You shouldn’t be surprised by how far dilated his pupils are, but as you sink your nails into his muscles, you furrow your eyebrows and will yourself to continue staring at him, wanting to ensure that he wants this just as much as you. 

“Rex…please, touch me.” You slide one of your hands up to his cheek, cupping his chiseled jaw beneath your palm out of fear of having him move away. 

“I am touching you, mesh’la.” Rex raises a curious eyebrow at you, nuzzling into your hand when he feels you settle down and whine in frustration. 

“I need more.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say, but it seems that Rex wants nothing more than to push you over the edge of irritation, huffing out in laughter once as he leans over and kisses your inner thighs. 

“Like this?” He asks, licking the spot he’s kissed before moving to the space just below your hip and nipping it lightly. “Or like this?” He inquires with a whisper, taking the edge of your panties in between his teeth and pulling them up until he makes sure you’re still looking at him before letting go and smirking at the snapping sound that forces you to jolt your hips into his face. He must be able to see the annoyance etched on your features because as soon as you try to sit up on your elbows and give him a piece of your mind, he drags both of his hands beneath your thighs and hoists them up until you’re perfectly laid out for him. 

“Rex, if you don’t- ahhh fuck,” you throw your head back as soon as you feel the heat of his mouth engulf your wet core. He’s licking you violently through the flimsy fabric of your panties, and when you manage to look down at him through dazed eyes, Rex shoves the material aside and shoves his tongue violently against your clit. You drag your nails across his scalp before you realize how painful it might be, but when you attempt to grab anything else, Rex shakes his head and sucks on your clit before letting go altogether. 

“Don’t fucking stop…mark me baby, mark me so the whole GAR knows who fucks you like the filthy jetii’ika I know you are.” Your eyes widen in shock at his words, amazed that the normally respectful and shy Captain is capable of groaning the filthiest words ever as he goes down on you. You return your hands to his blonde hair, a zap of lightning shooting across your muscles when you feel the buzzed cut tickle your heated skin while he continues to fuck you with his tongue. 

“Rex…oh fuck, you- you feel so good. Please don’t stop…don’t stop Captain!” You don’t mean for the honorific to fall so easily from your lips, and you look down to see if it made him uncomfortable, only to find him staring hungrily at you as he pulls you harder on his face. 

“Is that what you want, cyar’ika? You want me to be your Captain…give you orders and make you cum on my face before I fuck you till you can’t feel your legs?” You know it’s a rhetorical question because he returns his attention to your engorged clit soon after, laying his tongue flat against your bundle nerves as he drools over the fingers resting just below his mouth. You want to watch him as he worships you, commit to memory the desperation filling every muscle of his body as he shows you how much he craves you, but as soon as he eases two of his fingers past your slit and rubs against your walls, you’re shutting your eyes and arching your back at the sudden flash of pleasure that takes over your whole body. 

“Cum for me ner jetii’ika,” the tone of his voice, along with the needy order, are all it takes for you to reach your pleasure, and you dig your nails into his scalp in an attempt to bring him closer to you as you roll your hips back and forth against his mouth. You can’t feel anything except his tongue and his fingers, and you manage to look down through heavy-lidded eyes to watch Rex as he makes you cum. Your body shakes violently when you see his Force signature turn into a bright cloud of red, the shade validating to you the Captain’s feelings as he continues to assault your cunt until you grow oversensitive. 

You try to push him off of you but he is relentless in his mission to pleasure you, wrapping his arms around your hips and pushing down your body until you understand that he won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You feel empty all of a sudden, but then you notice his wet fingers as they grab you through your chest bindings and you feel another wave of ecstasy slowly creep up on you. 

“R-Rex…I-”

“Drench my face, sir.” You’re not sure what it is that coaxes another orgasm out of you, if it is the way he orders you to cum on his mouth again, or the sound of the honorific falling from his lips as he licks and sucks on your clit. You scream his name like a benediction, the sensation he was bringing upon your fatigued body driving you mad with lust. You can faintly hear him moan your name in return, and it’s only when you look down after he’s let up do you realize that you’ve done exactly what he wanted and drenched his face. You should be embarrassed, but as Rex licks at you softly with a lazy smile, you realize that he may have enjoyed this more than you. 

“Oh maker, I- I’ve never…” You try to speak but your voice comes out hoarse, making Rex laugh even harder as he sits up and wipes his face with the back of his hand. 

“That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen sweetheart…I want you to do it again.” He drags his gaze down your body as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, the same ones that were showing you stars not a moment ago. He looks positively sinful, and you giggle embarrassingly at him before you try to reach for the tent on his sweatpants. 

“No,” he grips your wrist tightly and falls against you, pushing you down into his bed with his whole body before reaching for both of your hands and laying them above your head. You frown at him, unsure why he was denying you the same pleasure he brought upon you. 

“Don’t look so upset, mesh’la.” He winks at you as he kisses down your neck and licks the water droplets sticking to your sternum. You sigh heavily and extend your neck out further to give him more access, the action pleasing him more than you thought it would and making him groan deeply into your breasts. “Believe me when I tell you…if you touch me now, this night will end much earlier than I would like it to.” He sucks bruises across your chest, managing to hold both of your wrists with one hand while the other moves to unbind the wrapping around your breasts. It doesn’t take much to reveal you to his eyes, and when you’re finally freed of the offending article of clothing, Rex growls before ascending upon you, not caring for how rough he’s being as he takes a nipple in between his teeth while he rolls his thumb over the other. 

“Ah f-fuck…Rex, you- your tongue is- oh kriff, I need you Captain…please. I want to feel you, want you to fuck me, hard.”

“Yeah sweetheart?” Rex soothes the love bites with his tongue, swirling the rough muscle around your hardened peak until your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s memorizing every inch of your skin, and you notice his smile grow deeper when he sees evidence of his claim beginning to appear all over your body. You always imagined him to be possessive with things he enjoyed, but you never thought once you’d be at the receiving end of such dedication, such admiration. 

“Claim me, my dear Captain.” You plead one last time, tilting your head down to try and kiss the top of his head in an attempt to make him lose control. The gesture does the trick, and Rex ascends up your body and takes your lips in between his own, ripping the breath out of your lungs as he sucks and licks into your mouth until you could no longer focus on anything but the sensations he was ringing from your body. You whine and moan for him as he pushes you harder into his sheets, and when you tries to rest his weight on one of his arms, you throw your own around his neck and pull him as flush to you as possible. 

“I want to feel you, all of you.” You whisper the request against his cheek, kissing his jaw lightly in anticipation for what comes next. When you sense his hand moving down your body, you nip across his neck and mirror his actions from earlier, distracting him on his journey just as he did with you not a moment ago. 

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.” Rex groans against your forehead as he struggles to pull the edge of his sweatpants down his hips. It becomes very clear to him soon that you weren’t going to let up on marking his skin, and he sighs in irritation before deciding to pull his cock out from underneath the band of his pants. 

“Please Rex,” you urge him with soft pleas and wet kisses, laying your head back to look into his eyes as he pushes aside your panties and rubs your clit with the hard tip of his cock. 

“Are you ready for me, cyare?” Rex asks, furrowing his eyebrows in focus so as to not hurt you. You nod frantically at him, widening your legs even further to allow him to settle more comfortably in between your thighs. 

“Fuck me, Captain.” You breathe against his quivering lips, sighing in relief when the crown of his dick catches at your wet entrance. 

“Yes, sir!” It’s all the warning you get before Rex thrusts his throbbing cock into your cunt, and you watch with fascination as the aura shadowing over the two of you becomes an even deeper shade of red, one that mixed perfectly with his normally blue hue and created a soothing new wave to your eyes. 

Neither of you move, looking into the other’s eyes to ensure that this was actually happening. 

Rex struggles to breathe, and you massage his neck with your fingers before shifting your hips to get closer to him. The movement sends his cock gliding against your clenching walls, and you both moan the other’s name as you feel pure ecstasy take over your spirits. 

“You- you feel…” Rex tries to speak, but he loses focus of the sentence, instead moving all of his attention into committing this moment to memory. 

“Perfect.” You finish his thought, leaning up and kissing his lips once before relaxing back into the mattress and silently urging him to move. When he pulls out of you and pushes back in slowly, you realize that you’ll never get enough of this. 

Enough of him. 

And from the way he was gazing down at you, it seems that the feeling was mutual. 

“Rex, just- I want you to cum. I don’t care about me, I only w-want to feel you cum.” You cross your legs behind his back to bring him deeper inside you, the action forcing a cry from his lips that sounds awfully like your name. You giggle beneath him, pride feeling your chest at being the one to bring him to such pleasure. 

“I- I’ll be damned if you don’t cum on my cock at least once tonight, mesh’la.” The promise is accompanied with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you gulp nervously at him, shutting your eyes to relish in the feeling of being so full. Each thrust brings about a fresh wave of arousal to your core, and you dig your nails into his back to show him just how good he’s making you feel. The delicious drag of his cock across your tight walls nearly makes you question whether this was all real, not because you didn’t expect him to feel so perfect inside you, but because he was so much better than your imagination. 

His grunts are music to your ears, and you leave a trail of kisses across face the closer he gets to his peak, wanting him to scream your name when he finally cums and claims you. It’s a battle of needs at this point, with your minds telling you to make this last as long as possible but your joined bodies screaming for a sweet release. You can feel every inch of him, every hard vein slide against your fluttering walls the harder he fucks into you. 

There is so much on your mind, so much you want to tell him, but you’re not coherent enough to remotely breathe out a string of affirmations to him, so you instead look back into his eyes and hope he can see right through you, recognize every bit of your heart that has always screamed his name since they day you met. 

“I- I won’t last much longer, cyar’ika.” He manages to confess as he thrusts become harder, deeper, more intimate. You shake your head and whisper your lack of care for what he just said, wanting him to finally mark you as his own and fill you with his seed. There’s something inherently faithful about wanting him to fuck his cum inside you, a sensation you’re aware would scream your devotion to each other but is against every rule set in place for someone like you…someone like him as well, 

But you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when Rex was finally sinking so sweetly into your pussy over and over again until you couldn’t think of anything else but how utterly divine he felt as he joined your bodies with a string of unparalleled pleasure. 

“Ner jetii’ika, I- I’m…oh kriff, where do I-”

“Inside me, please!” You cut him off, swallowing his moans as he shakes above you while bringing one of his hands in between your bodies, the sudden touch of his digits against your oversensitive clit making you arch your back into his chest and part your lips for him. He grunts several times while rubbing your hardened bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around your own when he feels you clench harshly around him. You shudder beneath him, unable to fathom the sensations he was pulling from you so easily, so exquisitely. Just as you break the kiss to breathe, Rex growls your name in between expletives, shoving his cock into you a few times before finally coming undone. Your pleasure lasts for longer than you thought possible, the feeling of his seed painting your walls and oozing out of you somehow making you feel even more attuned to his pleasure, as if his ecstasy was connected to your own and refused to part from it. He bucks his hips into you with shallow thrusts, resting his forehead against your chest as he slowly comes down from the brief high. 

You’re both too dazed to move a single muscle, and when you try to unwrap your legs from around him, Rex hisses in surprise at feeling your pussy flutter around him one last time. He finally sits up to look at you, and you watch as the smirk on his face grows with each bit of skin he sees adorned with his touch. 

“So…all of that means ‘mesh’la’?” You break the silence and laugh along with him when he finally catches on to what you’re referring to, only to hiss in discomfort when he pulls out of you and leaves you empty. You watch as Rex reluctantly sits up and shoves your thighs apart to look at the mess he’s made of you. You want to shake your head at him, call him disgusting for being so obvious with what he’s done to you, but when you find him biting his lips and staring at you with newfound lust, you realize that teasing him may not be the best idea now. 

“Fuck cyare, you look beautiful.” You giggle as you hide behind your arms once more, making Rex tease you about your shy bedside manner when he was literally fucking you into kingdom come not a moment ago. He gets up and walks to the refresher, quickly coming back to you to clean you up so you don’t have to move much. You can’t help but look at him with adoration as he rubs every inch of your skin. He’s careful and patient with you, taking his time to caress your skin before throwing the towel aside and reaching for one of his shirts to hand you. 

“Why give me a shirt when you know you’ll take it off of me in another hour?” You ask him teasingly, laughing hysterically when he throws it aside and shoves his sweatpants down his thighs. 

Your eyes shift to his cock instantly, and you marvel at how thick and long he is…and the fact that he was already starting to get hard again. 

“To even the field,” he winks at you as he slips beneath the covers and pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you before dimming down the lights. 

You sit in silence for what feels like hours, drawing patterns on his beautiful, bronze chest while he rubs your shoulder and back to soothe your body. It’s only after a while that Rex finally breaks the quiet air of the room and looks down at you, waiting until you meet his eyes before he finally tells you what he’s wanted to say for so long. 

“I would rather die than let anything happen to you, ner cyare. You know that right?” He says, matter-of-factly, and you sense a sliver of anxiety fill his otherwise calm aura for a brief moment before it evaporates into thin air. 

“I know darling, and you know by now that the feeling is mutual.” It’s not what he wants to hear, that you are sure of, but you can’t find it in yourself to lie to him, wanting him to know that you care for him just as much as he cares for you. 

“I guess both of us are going to be stubborn about this.” He shakes his head and leans over to kiss your forehead before resting back against the pillow once more. 

“You bet your sweet ass.” You retort immediately, yelping in shock when he pinches your shoulder and sends you closer into his chest. 

“You haven’t even seen my ass, sweetheart.” He snorts at your comeback, glancing down at you for a moment before shutting his eyes and enjoying the feeling of having you so willing and relaxed in his arms. 

“Oh, believe me Captain, I have seen your ass…and I fucking love it.”

[shygloom]

Anything For Bunny

Characters: Kento Nanami & fem!reader

Tags/CW: Smut, Size difference/kink, Breeding kink, Manhandling, Soft reader, Soft domination, Pet names, Bimbo reader if you squint

Word Count: 779 (I write smol)

Summary: Cuddling with Nanami while watching Sailor Moon. He’s bigger in stature, with rough hands, and rough facial features, all serious—a juxtaposition to your soft pastels and mint greens, plush pillows, well-manicured hands, and lacey cotton garment. But, he’s extremely affectionate, he doesn’t want to watch "some silly anime show" but will do anything for his bunny girl.

A flicker of perversion wafts through your senses while lying close to Nanami. The air colder than you like; a moment of decision had passed where you pondered on leaving your bed to heat up the room, but nestled at the side of your man, all big, warm, and rough where you liked it—you didn’t need to—

Calloused hands shift slightly on your thigh, and you peer at Nanami. Expression still, unreadable, the all too familiar display of indifference. A stark contrast to your whimsical light giggles and reactions to the anime, Sailor Moon, playing ahead of you two; contrast to the soft pastel and mint green room, flora nestled around. Your lacey cotton garment, soft skin, and plush pillows beneath, against his all-black attire. You deepen the hold you have over him, head burrowing further into his chest, and you kiss it amused. Nanami, such a serious man, in his business casual clothing, complacent in watching “some silly anime show” because, “I’d do anything for my little bunny girl.” Doing just that, little coming from the impatient man, quick to express irritation.

“Baby,” he murmurs softly in response to your lovely display of affection. His heart nearly melted in possessive delight. You were cute. You made the mundane bearable. He was always losing himself in your soft and coy nature. Dainty, but no pushover. Perhaps a bit spacy, but not the least intelligent. You were delectable, and the object of all his yearning—with an unimaginable urge to press your pretty self into his sheets, and completely stuff and breed his little girl.

Nanami gazes into your eyes with a slight smile, before shifting your bodyweight—like nothing—upwards, capturing your lips against his. His one arm firmly around your exposed waist, the other moulding your leg to a straddle. It hit sharply in your lower tummy, spreading to your core. You comply. Your insides develop a slow ache, clenching at nothing. Well-manicured hands caress Nanami’s neck, deepening the kiss, playing with the little blond hairs at the base; you like how it tapers. The faint scent of cologne filtered through your nose, and your arousal. You pull from the kiss to hide in his cheek. “What did I say about shying from me?” He follows your movements, grasping one side of your face to land a possessive firm kiss on your cheek. Apologising with a quiet giggle, and garnering some bravery, you roll your hips in sync with his growing vigour.

Nanami couldn't help but often be rough in action with his baby girl, but his words were never venomous; always sweet, wanting, prideful, and full of praise. He’d fuck up into you, chasing after his pleasure, using those strong legs of his. Claiming you’re a good girl, his good girl; you take him so well, and you make his heart swell. He loves you. He's where he belongs, deep in your soft walls, pulling him in and oozing all over his pelvic area. The sounds, by all that is lovely, the sounds, his bunny moaning out for more, calling out his name with every slow and deep thrust; moaning you are his, his always, his to please and use. He knows that. But, those words often have him shifting you both in a position with easy access to your clit. Taking care of his far gone girl. Him in absolute bliss as well, but enough control within to change his movements in order to fuck you in ways that have your toes curling, and thighs shaking; slow but firm continuous rolls on the clit accompanied his thrusts.

Nanami loves his girl when she’s messy. Mind blank, and dumb, his cum seeping from her wet folds, stretched out on his cock. Finds you cute. He’s got a thing for cute, can’t help but give the smallest of smiles, whispering into your ears that you’re a doll. He takes, how he wants, when he wants, despite being a little apologetic—a brash glutton— “You feel that, right, what you do to me.” The elongated sensation curled up within him, creeping in the throat and escaping as a slow deep groan, “It’s you, all you baby.” You like how much bigger he is compared to you, his presence engulfing both physically and psychologically. “Look how small your hands are compared to mine,” he’d say. “Tiny girl,” laced in casual warning, encouraging your coy bratty behaviours, knowing it further edged you both into the dynamic.

A low guttural whisper creeps through, breaking your thoughts, “where are you, baby?” You roll your hips into Nanami, lips curling above him, anticipation for the naughty senseless things you’re both about to become.

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn��t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[bemylord]

haikyuu boys have a size kink

characters: ushijima, kuroo, atsumu, bokuto, tsukishima.

warnings: smut, oral, belly bulge, degrade, breeding and size kink, anal, gagging.

ᴜꜱʜɪᴊɪᴍᴀ ᴡᴀᴋᴀᴛᴏꜱʜɪ

like every boy who has a thick cock - he'd be smug whilst fucking your cunt to see how your belly is bulging due to his cock.

you'll boost his ego if you'd scratch his back or biceps, so ensuingly in the morning, his back would be dotted in the red patterns; screaming his name like it's the one word you know.

a big daddy in the bed. wanna stay all day in the bed and receiving cuddles and smooches? call ushijima daddy or captain. it would blow his mind, hearing your broken voice, thanks to his cock, moaning and whimpering.

'd-daddy!' you're getting lost in ushijima's thick cock, lacking of his deep, but morbid kisses. ushijima is biting your lips, immediately licks the blood that flowing down into your chin. strikes are powerful, beating moans and whimpers from your mouth every time his balls are hitting your ass. ushi hoists your up from the bed you were laying on: with one hand his holding your waist whilst another one is keeping the buttocks. nudging your tight and dripping pussy on his cock, feeling the closest orgasm.

'my baby, i'm close, i-' you're kissing the protruding bone on his collarbone, leaving there small hickeys that will come off in a couple of minutes. ushijima presses his lips against yours, increasing his tempo, pulling your closer to his body. 'let's do it together, honey, cum on my dick'

'cum inside me, ushi, i wanna feel your sperm inside me' you murmured wheezing, bouncing on his cock, feeling the wave is overwhelming you, bringing what you've been needy for a long time. as wakatoshi felt your creampie on his dick he bowed his head back, making his last movements 'till he did the last like you. he kept nudging into you a couple of times, make sure you've got off his semen in your belly. he kissed your sweat forehead, carrying you to the bathroom.

ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ᴛᴇᴛꜱᴜʀᴏᴜ

kuroo likes to do it in a raw when you aren't prepared, just enough to feel how a big cock is stretching your walls, going in until his balls squish against your ass and going out, bursting inside with speed, beating out of you desperate, concupiscent moan.

being complacent through the whole intercourse, degrading and humiliating you by calling you slut or needy puppy.

kuroo adores when you're taking the initiative by getting fucked into his lap, controlling the pace, and watching your lover's lustful expression.

'bouncing on my fat cock like that should be illegal, babe, ah~' he groaned when you take his member all, drooping down, moving the pelvis forward and backward. 'jumping on it, babe' kuroo thrusts hips up, forcing you to grab his shoulders. you looked into his eyes, taking the massive dick which is destroying your cunt.

'kuroo, ng~' you whimpered, when kuroo put hands on your waist burying himself deeper. you put yourself at the risk, slightly blowing on kuroo's ear, moaning quietly as you're cumming. your walls are squeezing his dick so tight, that he groaning, bend you over.

'did you had my permission to cum? now, i'm gonna fill your cunt with me hot sperm until it'll be enough to dripping from your pussy'

ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ ᴍɪʏᴀ

deep oral - his favorite one. as a punishment, when you wake him up in his dick inside your tiny mouth. frankly speaking, his dick is so massive that it barely fits in your mouth: you could suck only his glans, clearly can't put a cock deeper because of the length.

another one who would be smug when you can't take his cock entirely. would be grinning and laughing at your gagging face, when you're attempting to pull away to have a breath of air.

enjoys thrusting his pelvis up when you getting down on the dick, just to make sure he's the leader.

'gag on it, sugar. feel every inch of my thick cock' atsumu did a fist of your hair to use your head as he wants. atsumu didn't have time to breathe, practically choking by his dick. atsumu might be a boy who would cherish and loving a boyfriend, but when the last ray of sunshine leaves the earth - you should call him daddy. licking his balls to the pink head, being forcing to put a dick until the glans will touch your throat.

'those tears, baby girl, that's because it's big, isn't it? taste my cum, girl' atsumu wen crazy, when he sees your tears - he's the one who can ruin your makeup, making your eyeliner run down your cheeks, leaving the black patters. your closed eyes tight, open your throat to take his cock and semen. your lover came with a loud groan, making a serial of hits in you. the mouth is filled with a hot liquid just as atsumu wanted it. you swallowed the sperm, staring at his smug and sassy facial expression.

'now sit on my face, i'm gonna eat you dripping pussy'

ʙᴏᴋᴜᴛᴏ ᴋᴏᴛᴀᴜʀᴏᴜ

he's kinda clingy and tactile: pressing you against his muscle, interlacing your fingers, kissing your lips softly and lazily, contrary to his painful strikes in your pussy.

when he first made a push in you, he was over and over asking 'how do you feel?' or 'can i move, my angel?' when you get used to his size, bokuto acts more confident - he doesn't like seeing you crying because of his cock.

bokuto is a sweet pie when it comes to the aftercare - his treasured part. bokuto will spread smooches all over your cute face, making you blushed and smile.

'my little owl, it-' bokuto groaned, when you scratched his back, pulling him closer by his torso. he kissed your lips, running hands all over your body, trying to feel every curve, smooth skin, and irregularities. if there's kink named: the man who's obsessed with your body - it'd be koutarou's kink. the captain is terribly obsessed with you. every your 'defect' that you're trying to hide, bokuto adores.

'you're gonna make your captain cum, i-' before he could finish, the spontaneously wave of orgasm made him push inside you deeply. in addition, your walls are wringing out the last of his sperm. both of you felt your high note suddenly, remaining with his breath knocked out, drowning in each other arms.

'let's have a cuddle session!' you've got no way to run.

ᴛꜱᴜᴋɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ ᴋᴇɪ

honorable master of degrading you. doesn't care about phrases he's talking whilst pumping into you. he'd degrade and humiliate through all the night you'll be fucking. actually, tsukki is tremendously affectional after that.

the perfect way to show who's the host? anal sex for sure. your hole isn't scratched for his massive cock - amazing for him, painful for you [could be a slogan for your night-life]

scoundrel when he watches how your facial expression changes from the 'wrong hole, tsukki, it hurts' to the 'please rub my clit, i'm gonna creampie, tsukki please'

'tsukki-'

'you know my name, slut, call it!'

tsukishima spanked your ass with a resounding sound that left the mark on your booty. you're on ll fours, hair pulled, back arched - as your daddy loves to. it hurts so much that you couldn't feel anything, but his dick. you screamed his nickname when tsukki found the right nerve profoundly in the ass. kei pulled your hair back, facing your ear, biting and licking. he knew what'll be if he dares to do that - you felt the familiar feeling inside your belly. a new batch of orgasm is about to come, kei rubs your clit as he learned to read the mind. unconsciously, you squeeze his dick while finishing, uttering the nickname. you sank to your elbows with a dick inside you.

'd-daddy'

'that's right, now daddy is gonna cum and cum until your ass will drain my balls'

//~~//

why i did bokuto so sweet it must a nsfw work, but i hope you liked it!

highly recommending to listen 'lights down low' while reading it. omgfd it feels different.

[luminnara]

It’s Been A Long, Long Time | Alpha!Bucky x Omega! reader Part 2

Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back...and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part one | Part two | Part three |

Warnings: NSFW, Knotting, ABO

Tags: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch

The soldier’s rut seemed to come around on a perfect schedule. Like clockwork, every few months Amoretta would be pulled out of her usual living space and sent to the rutting cell to wait for him. Sometimes, he came in smelling fresh and clean, like they had just hosed him down. Other times, he was covered in dirt and blood, most of which didn’t seem to be his own. She didn’t care; her heart soared every time she heard his heavy boots stomping towards her, and she always faced him with a confident, even gaze. 

They would spend his rut together, the soldier knotting her over and over until it passed. He grew bolder with her, showing her affection she never thought he was capable of. He would carefully lay her down on her side so that he could curl around her, waiting for his knot to go down so that he could start all over again. His hands became increasingly gentle, calloused fingertips brushing over her folds carefully as he tried to pull those beautiful moans out of her throat. 

He often succeeded; Amoretta woke up to his touch more times than she could count, her thighs already trembling as he played with her clit. The soldier was good at getting her ready for him, though she was almost always prepared to take his cock anyways. Her body responded to him eagerly, slick always pooling between her legs whenever he was nearby. She couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like if HYDRA didn’t have her on so many heat suppressants. 

Even without her hormones raging, she was falling for him. He was big and strong and protective, always putting himself between her and the guards whenever they appeared in the doorway. If it weren’t for his trigger words, Amoretta was positive he would tear them apart before they even got close to her. Did that mean he felt the same way about her, too? Or was she just being a silly omega, stuck in a cold series of tunnels, latching onto the only alpha she was ever permitted contact with? 

She couldn’t tell. 

She didn’t really care.

All she knew was that she wanted him. She had begun looking forward to his ruts, and by the end of her first year in captivity, her body had begun being able to predict when they were coming without the use of a calendar. It was like waking up on Christmas Day, excitement flooding her while she waited for the guards to come let her out of her cell. It always put her in a good mood, knowing that she was about to see the one person who seemed to care about her in that godforsaken place.

And he did. 

He cared.

Whenever he saw her, the soldier felt his chest swelling with happiness. There were no bond marks on either of them, but she was his, and she knew it. His omega knew that he was there to keep her safe. He was driven by a simple urge to take care of her whenever he saw her, his need to protect her always taking over his mind. She was so much smaller than him, but she took him so well and fit so perfectly against his chest when they laid together. He never wanted it to end. 

“Alpha?” She asked one night, voice barely louder than a whisper. 

His knot had gone down a little while earlier, but he was too exhausted by a full day of fucking to go at it again yet. Instead, he was dozing, an arm draped over her protectively while she snuggled up against his chest. 

“Hm?” He grunted, cracking an eye open. 

“Do you…” she sighed. “Never mind.”

He was fully awake now, both eyes open as he looked at her. “Do I what?”

She bit her lip, feeling stupid. “Do you think we would be together outside of this place?”

He was silent as he thought about it. He didn’t know anything other than HYDRA. Shit, he had never stopped to wonder if there was anything other than HYDRA. Did he have a life besides killing? He had no memory of it, if he did. 

“I’m sorry, it’s dumb.” Amoretta said, burying her face against his chest. “Forget it.”

“‘Mega,” his chest rumbled with the word. “It’s not dumb.”

“Then why didn’t you answer?” She huffed. 

He snorted quietly. There it was again. That brazen attitude she always had. 

“Because...I don’t remember anything outside of this.” He finally said. 

Amoretta looked at him. “Nothing at all?”

“It’s always been HYDRA.” He didn’t sound too concerned.

She frowned. “Well...if it wasn’t. If we were just two normal people.”

“Normal?”

“You know.” She couldn’t help but smile a little. “Just...two people, living in a city—“

“New York.” He interrupted quietly.

She paused. “New York?”

“A city. To live in.” He said. “New York.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. Why would he choose New York? It was a large city, to be sure, but it seemed out of character for him to interrupt with something like that, especially considering that they were currently being kept somewhere under Eastern Europe. They were as far away from the States as they could get, and she had expected to be talking about someplace like Paris, or Moscow, or Berlin. 

She knew the soldier was someone HYDRA had captured a while ago, which meant he had to have had some sort of life before they pumped him full of the serum. Could this be part of it? Was he...remembering? If he was, she wanted to know more. All HYDRA used her for was getting their asset through his ruts, so she had plenty of time to think, and plenty more time to be curious. The most interesting thing in the compound with her was him, and she had spent hours just wondering about him. This could be her chance to actually get him talking about something other than rutting, and she wanted to encourage more.

“Okay, New York.” She said, a reassuring hand on his arm. “What part?”

He thought for a moment, trying to concentrate. “Brooklyn.”

“Why Brooklyn?”

The soldier shrugged. “Heard about it. I think.”

“Never been there?”

“...I don’t know.” 

“Hmph.” She played with a strand of his dark hair. “If we lived in Brooklyn, what kind of life would we have?”

“A house,” he said. 

“We’d have a house?” 

He nodded, his nose finding the scent gland on her neck and rubbing against it. “Filled with lots...and lots...of pups…”

Her heart skipped a beat and she immediately felt heat coiling around in her belly. She couldn’t help it; she was pre programmed to get excited at the concept of being bred. Even without her heats, the thought filled her chest with butterflies. 

“Wanna breed you…” his voice pulled her back to reality. 

Amoretta licked her lips, grinning. “Then breed me, Alpha.”

He let out a playful growl, somehow finding the strength to roll her onto her front and grab her hips. He held onto her tightly enough to leave little red marks, but he never had to worry; she was strong. She was made for him. He knew that she could take whatever he gave her.

“Want my knot?” The soldier asked, toying with her wet folds for a few moments before he shoved his cock inside of her. 

“Y-yes, Alpha!” She squealed, pussy immediately tightening around him. She had grown so used to his size by now, she hardly even needed any preparation to take him. Her body accepted his girth eagerly, wanting nothing more than to feel his knot catching on her.

He groaned appreciatively as he began thrusting in and out of her, setting a lazy pace for himself. “‘M gonna fill you up, Omega...gonna fill you up, get you nice and pupped…”

Her cheeks were flushed as she listened to him, skin burning as her alpha fucked her. She loved the sound of his voice. She loved everything about him. 

“Please,” she moaned, melting down against the sheets. 

“Yeah?” He let go of her hips, moving both hands to hold her ass. He gave it a squeeze, chest rumbling happily at the feeling of so much supple flesh in his grip. “Fuck, omega...my pretty ‘mega…”

She sighed happily, her pussy squeezing his cock as a little orgasm fluttered through her. He was good at that, and giving her those tiny little ones every so often with nothing but his words. 

He snarled at the feeling. He wanted more. 

A metal hand snaked around her front, finding her clit and rubbing it roughly. She immediately cried out, surprised by the sudden stimulation, and it wasn’t long before her thighs were shaking and she was a moaning, crying mess underneath her soldier. How did he know what to do? Why did he even care if she got off, when she was only there to please him? 

He had to be more than just a flesh and bone HYDRA machine. She knew he had to be.

As she tipped over the edge, he followed close behind, his breath hot on the back of her neck as he bit into her shoulder. The pain felt dull, despite his massive fangs tearing into her. It always did; Amoretta was never worried about it, often sporting bruises and bite marks after her soldier mounted her. With the quickened healing abilities her body now had, nothing lasted very long before fading anyways. 

She wished they would stick around, though. She wanted to feel claimed. 

She felt his knot swelling and she sighed happily, slumping down onto the cot as he pressed his chest against her back. He began lazily licking at her shoulder, swiping his tongue over the bloody wound to soothe it. 

“One day,” he grumbled, “One day, ‘m gonna mark you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. 

“Wh-what?” She asked, looking back at him. 

He nodded, sure of himself. “You’re my omega. An’ one day, I’m gonna make sure everybody knows.”

—

How many years did she spend there, in HYDRA’S compounds? After the first, it was easy to lose track. She was kept on a monotonous schedule that consisted of a few feedings a day, exercise sessions, and the occasional “doctor’s visit.” Those always just meant that her suppressants were being increased, as her body was growing steadily angrier about them. She was building up a tolerance, the doctor said, and they would simply have to keep ramping up her dosage. 

She dared to ask why they couldn’t just let her have heats like normal, and the answer was simply that they didn’t have the facilities ready to raise super soldier pups. The thought of being separated from her own offspring mortified her; it was bad enough that she was always so far away from her alpha, and she knew she couldn’t bear to give up her pups for some twisted HYDRA program. 

So she shut up, and learned to deal with the side effects of the suppressants. They made her constantly nauseous, not enough to make her vomit, but definitely enough that she was uncomfortable all day. As her dosage increased, so did her headaches, and there were moments she considered begging the doctors to take her off of them so that she could feel at least some relief. 

But she knew that would be a bad idea. She had to continue acting like she had absolutely no interest in returning to her normal heat cycle, or else risk HYDRA thinking about how quickly they could get things ready to start a new super soldier program. Amoretta wanted to keep their minds off of it for as long as she possibly could, and it seemed like she was successful; it never came up during her visits to the lab, the doctors seeming much more focused on how to keep her from getting pregnant at all. 

It was for the best. She knew that. But part of her whined and yearned to be allowed to start a little family with her alpha, even though he hadn’t given her a bond mark. With every rut she spent with him, she felt herself growing more and more comfortable at his side, wishing more and more that they were normal people. She wanted to live that life in Brooklyn with him, to smell fresh air again instead of the recycled oxygen they pumped through the compound. 

Sometimes, Amoretta was moved to different facilities. They were always underground, always just as gray and dingy as all the others. The guards always tranquilized her in order to transport her, and she would wake up in a similar, yet different cell from the last, groggy and even more nauseous than usual. She figured they were moving both her and the soldier around, depending on where they wanted to send him off on missions. She just wished that she could go outside once in a while, too. 

One night, she got her chance. 

She woke up early, her body fighting off the tranquilizer she had been given. She could tell that she was in a cramped, dark transport crate, moonlight filtering in through the air holes on the top of it. Fresh air was coming in, too, the scent of grass and pine filling her nose. It smelled so delicious that she was gulping in lungfulls, immediately shifting to press her face up against one of the holes. 

It was small, barely large enough for her to see out of it, but she could spot a few twinkling stars up above her. 

She wanted more. 

The crate was heavy, reinforced with metal bars meant to keep her in and the soldier out, but she was determined. She hadn’t seen the outdoors in...shit, decades? 

A few good kicks was all it took before she was scrambling out, bare toes digging into the dirt as she stood and looked around. She was in the middle of nowhere, it seemed, a few trucks idling nearby as HYDRA workers moved supplies into the compound. 

As soon as they noticed her, she ran, sprinting off into the trees. She could hear shouting behind her, but she didn’t stop, too excited by the feeling of the wind against her bare skin. The night air was cool and refreshing, and as she skidded to a stop at the edge of a field, she could hardly believe she was really outside.

Turning her eyes up to the sky, she let out a happy gasp. The moon was full and bright, an entire galaxy of stars twinkling in the inky blackness of space. Amoretta hadn’t realized how much she missed it. 

Heavy footsteps drew her attention away from the stars, but she didn’t turn to look. She could smell her alpha approaching, his scent seeming more curious than angry now that he had found her. He was alone, free of the entourage of guards she had expected to come after her. 

“Omega,” he growled, his low voice rumbling. 

“Look at them,” she sighed.

He stepped up next to her, his side brushing hers. “At what?” His blue eyes were scanning the treeline, searching for anything that could be threatening his omega. When he found nothing, he tilted his head to look down at her curiously. “What is it?”

“The stars,” she sighed again.

Stars? 

He watched her face for a moment, surprised to find her smiling up at the sky. When he finally followed her gaze, he paused to admire the stars. He never really did that, did he? Whenever HYDRA let him out, he was sent with strict orders. There was never any time for stargazing. Though...it was nice, and the look on his omega’s face was even nicer. 

“That’s Ursa Major,” she said, pointing up to a collection of stars. “See? It’s a bear.”

The soldier snorted. “I don’t see a bear.”

“Then look harder.”

She glanced over to see him actually squinting, the lower half of his face obscured by the black mask he wore on missions. The sight made her laugh, quiet giggles quickly turning into full, hearty laughter that had her gripping her sides. There he was, a huge, terrifying super soldier, the most dangerous assassin in the world, and he was trying to figure out constellations. 

“What?” his head whipped around to look down at her.

“N-nothing,” she giggled. 

He gave her an exasperated look. “Are you laughing at me?”

“I might be.” she nudged his side with her shoulder. “You’re just...cute. That’s all.”

She could see him raise an eyebrow. “Cute?”

“Mhm. You know, this is the first time I’ve seen you outside of a rut.” she leaned against him, looking up with big doe eyes. “I like it.”

His chest puffed up a little as he looked down at her. “You do?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” his throat rumbled with a low purr. “I have to take you back now.”

She deflated with a sigh. “Already?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Not safe out here.”

“There’s nothing out here scarier than you, Alpha.”

His purr grew louder, a little more smug. “You’re right. But I have orders.”

“Can we stay for just another minute?” she pleaded. “Then you can drag me back.”

The soldier considered her offer. He really did enjoy watching her gaze up at the stars, and he had no idea when he would get this chance again. “...Fine.”

Amoretta smiled. “Thank you, Alpha.”

His arm found its way around her waist, pulling her up against him. “You like stars, omega?”

“I used to sit outside and look at them every night back home,” she said. “Well, when it was clear.”

“Back home?”

She nodded. “I grew up in this quaint little village, tucked away in the mountains...at the foot of the alps.”

He cocked his head. Something about the alps...it felt like there was a memory nudging at the back of his mind, but he didn’t know why. Maybe he had gone there on a mission? HYDRA was good at always wiping his memory between outings. It was hard to tell where he had been. 

“Let’s go.” he said, suddenly uncomfortable. 

Amoretta didn’t resist as he scooped her up, instead resting her cheek against his chest and trying to surround herself with his scent while he walked. She could tell that something was bothering him, but with no idea what, and with him nearing the HYDRA base, there was little she could do to try and pry it out of him. 

She would just have to wait and try again during his next rut.

[yoongsisbae]

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

[theepisceswriter]

Jjk dudes promising just the tip but breaking it like 2 seconds later please!

Bestie I know you wanted multiple JJK characters, and I’ll probably still give it you, but I had something similar to this in my notes with Toji, so I decided to make a little ficlet with him instead surrounding this idea....kinda.

Synopsis: Your toxic baby daddy Toji hits you up after not being heard from for months with that smirk on his face that you just can’t resist.

TW: Dub con might apply here but I did my best to make reader aware that Toji was 99.99% lying abt just the tip and knew abt his intentions from the start, but I guess you can interpret it how you want, fembodied!reader, Toji is a trigger warning on his own, manipulation, implied that you have a child together, pregnancy mention briefly, breeding kink, toxic relationship, 18+, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you flipped your phone over to see ‘TOJI WOJI 🥺🧸🥰....is FaceTiming you.’ Whatever he was calling for couldn’t have been important or even worth your time listening to at all. It was edging on 12 am in the morning, the ungodly hours of the night where sin ran rampant and thoughts became loud as the world around you silenced, a concoction of emotions that meant nothing good. Especially when the last time you received a phone call from him this late it resulted in a booty call that led to you pregnant with a child that Toji barely came to see. Still, you found your thumb lingering over the green answer button and faintly tapping on it, hoping that it wouldn’t go through, but instead, you were met with the sight of Toji. The raven locks on his hair poking out like always, the same old scar over his lip, and the same basic black tee decorating his body. He looked exactly the same as you had last seen him except the outside lights of the world illuminated his face as he appeared to be in what you assumed was the driver’s seat of his car. You felt your heart clench in your chest, memories of your relationship before he up and dipped on you clouding your mind to the point where you were damn near in tears wondering why it had to end so abruptly; why he left you the way he did. But those tears were soon pushed back by with an anger that had you ready to hang up in his face. You were so conflicted when it came to him, always had been.

“What do you want Toji?”

“You. I miss you, y/n. I’ve been thinking a lot about you and our family.” God, here he went with this bullshit again. Just when you thought the cycle was over he always popped up again, little white lies about missing you and his child so he could find solace in your bed for a week or two before dipping like he always did. Apparently, he wanted to come in and talk things out, just talk and try to redeem your relationship. You knew he was just telling you everything you wanted to hear with an ulterior motive behind his words, but you couldn’t resist that grin on his lips and the compliments of how nice you looked even in your nightclothes.

He was too good at this because the next thing you knew he was sitting on the couch in your living room with his legs manspreading out and trying to inch his way closer to where you sat on the opposite end. Your arms crossed and staring daggers into him while all he did was look at you as fondly as he could, as if he were genuinely envisioning a future with you and the child he left you within this moment.

“What the fuck do you really want Toji?” Your voice had a bite to it that left him smirking at your attitude and digging deeper into his mind to pull out lines he knew you wanted to hear, lines he knew would get him that satisfactory ending of you giving into his sweet talk and bold advances as he scooted a couple of inches closer to you. So close that his hand was able to rest on the part of your left thigh that the shorts you were wearing left exposed, gently kneading the area with his palm.

“You know you look good right?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes ready to push his hand off of you but his other hand blocked you from doing so, bringing both of your arms over your head and adjusting the two of you so that you were now smushed between him and the cushioning of the couch. As mad as you wanted to be at him you just couldn’t. He had indestructible shackles placed over your heart that tugged with each time he forced himself back into your life just like how they were now.

Flashbacks of the night you got pregnant suddenly came flashing before your eyes. The vivid imagery of the way he had your legs folded to the point where your ankles were by your ears as he pounded into you ruthlessly from above, hand around your neck tightening your airways and making tears form in your eyes. Blissed dazed out in a space that was too similar to subspace, too out of it to even respond to the “I’m going to fuck a baby into you and how ever many I want after that. Use you like the slut you are and breed you so good.” That had left his lips at that moment. 

Which is exactly what he did and here he was again, the two of you in the very same spot shimmied out of your clothes, and him ready to fuck a baby into you again once more.

“I just want you.” When he says it like that, voice soft and laced with what you hope to be some form of honesty, it’s easy to pretend like this is okay in a relationship—if that’s what you could even call this. That if you squinted your eyes hard enough and looked past Toji’s flaws that all this pain and suffering he put you through in the end would be worth it. Your feelings changing for him with each entrance and exit he made in your life. Always wondering what the two of you could’ve been if he was a better man. You had to be soulmates, there was no other explanation for why you kept coming back to each other. At least not any logical one that you could think of.

All the logical thinking left your mind the moment he pressed his lips to yours, those oh so soft lips that you missed and craved badly on nights when other men’s lips couldn’t contort to yours the way that he did.

This is exactly what he wanted—his gentle caresses and touch to distract you from the real reason why he was here. Which was only to use your body how he wanted before he went on with his life, not thinking about you again until he got horny once more. And it was the touch of his cold hands against your skin, working its way up to grope at your enlarged breast, that brought you back to this realization. Lips moving off of his immediately and backing up against the arm of the couch. Your lips opened in protest, only to be cut off by him speaking up first.

“You don’t understand how much I’ve missed your touch—your body. Do you know how much gorgeous you’ve become with a post-pregnancy body? Just looking at you is driving me crazy.” He continues on with his compliments. Each one hitting you straight into your heart and going up to your head to shush those thoughts that scream at you to not fall for his trap, but instead, you fell right into it. Allowing his to resume his position on top of you.

“We don’t even have to do much. Just the tip, I promise. I just miss the feeling of you around me so much.” It’s the first time this whole night that you were able to recognize one of his lies as just that, a bold-faced lie. You knew how he got when he was in the mood, how dark and clouded his mind got with lust to the point where he was a whole different Toji. But you let him believe that you believed that, a small okay leaving your lips along with a nod as you accepted his lips on yours once more; his tongue slipping past your lips to find yours, gently sucking on it and letting out a light moan at the familiarity of it. He didn’t even have to use his hands to guide his cock to your entrance because he was just that big, breaking away from the kiss to look at where the two of you connected and using his hips to guide his erect tip inside of the warmth of your cunt. For a minute, maybe even less, he kept his “promise” of inserting only his tip, but the feeling of your walls gripping on only the tip of his cock was enough for him to go crazy. Something on the verge of a whimper and a moan leaving his lips. He needed more of you and he was going to have more of you. Disregarding his promise like you predicted, he ruthlessly bucked his hips up against yours, his whole length entering you with ease from the build-up of your arousal that had taken the physical form of wetness.

“Pussy so wet just for me that you swallowed me whole.” He tried to pin it on you and if you weren’t stuffed to the brim with him right now maybe you would’ve rolled your eyes and told him how dumb he sounded, but you went along with it. He didn’t even give you time to adjust to him because even after months without touching each other he knew the pussy that he trained with constant fucking every week would remember his shape and form, adjusting your legs so they were folded up against your stomach and immediately getting to work.

“I might have to put another baby in you if this is what post-pregnancy pussy feels like. You feel so good and right around my cock, baby.”

Each thrust was like heaven on earth, his cock curved in just the right spots to his every sensitive area inside of you that left your toes curling and a faint white creamy line begin to form at the base of his cock. It had been so long since you’ve had a nice good fucking. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so full, so good to the point where tears formed around the edges of your eyes. No one, not even the toys you had spent $100’s on tucked away in your closet, came close to the affect that he had on your body.

He always knew just what to do and just what to say to have you crumbling underneath him. One of your favorite but also most disliked quality that he possessed.

[aminiatureworld]

Enigmatic Feelings II

Characters: Beidou, Childe, Eula, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,402

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: Decided to tack on two characters to the request. This is my first time writing for Eula, and I think this prompt really fit her. She really reminds me of Kaguya Shinomiya in mindset, which is kinda hilarious. I hope I wrote her well!

In case you’re wondering, I kept all the NPCs gender neutral so that the reader might interpret them as they wish.

Beidou

Beidou and her crew tended to get drunk. Like, a lot. Rowdy parties soaked in alcohol, audible from Guyun Stone Forest to Qingce Village were simply part of ship culture. Though they might’ve been loud and somewhat disorganized, there was never any sense of overstepping boundaries, and things never ended up going too far.

Or at least that’s what Beidou would’ve liked to think. Watching you and another shipmate moseying up to one another was a surprisingly unpleasant experience, and Beidou took another swig of her flask to wash out the acidic taste in the back of her mouth.

What did it even matter if someone was flirting with you? It was the end of a long haul, emotions were running high, and everyone knew that you were the captain’s partner. Everyone knew that nothing serious would come of a little flirting, and the occasional compliment or teasing remark towards you here and there had never really bothered Beidou before. She wasn’t about to be jealous of a few flirty shipmates; after all, the ability to sweet talk should probably be a requirement for signing up for piracy anyways.

Maybe it was just how blatant the flirting was, so different than the usual passing, good-natured banter. Beidou knew how well each of her shipmates could hold their liquor. She also knew how quickly norms and rules tended to be thrown out the window the moment one got plastered. Even if the shipmate meant nothing truly malicious or devious in their words, Beidou couldn’t rule out the fact that they were probably genuinely flirting.

Neither could she ignore the fact that you were distinctly flirting back. Beidou wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, after all you’d always responded with a good natured tease at the remarks flown you way and even engaged in some meaningless flirting yourself towards the other members of the ship. It was part of ship culture after all, to be so open and careless. The sea was never calm or placid, why should her voyagers be so? Still, Beidou couldn’t deny the fact that she was uncomfortable by the current situation, protocol be damned.

A part of her wanted to go up and tell you right out; you were her partner, and she was sure that you’d be able to understand what she was feeling. Yet pride kept her at her seat, downing more liquor to distract herself from her conundrum. After all, it’d be kind of hypocritical of her to cultivate a familiar ship culture and then turn around and revoke it at the drop of a hat, wouldn’t it? Nor would it feel right to enforce rules upon others that she herself didn’t follow. It’s not like Beidou hadn’t ever flirted with or teased someone else without thinking too much about it. How could she blame her crew for following her example?

Still the sight of you and your shipmate danced in front of her eyes, urging her to do something she’d surely regret. Beidou let out a loud sigh, something that wasn’t ignored by the people around her.

“You alright captain?” Juza eyed Beidou worriedly. One of the other hard drinkers on the ship, Beidou knew that she couldn’t rely on alcohol to allay her Chief Mate’s worries.

“I’m fine!” She spoke loudly, plastering a large grin upon her face. “I was just thinking about how proud I am of all of you! How much of a tight-knit crew we are!”

Beidou could tell that she was garnering the attention of the rest of the shipmates and stood up. She had neglected to make a speech so far, so wrapped up was she in the scene playing out before her eyes. Clearing her throat Beidou held up her flask, the eager anticipation of her crewmates combining with the liquid fire in her system, causing a wave of rash confidence to run through her. At least she was an entertaining speechmaker.

“I look out upon the faces of warriors now! We may be somewhat irregular, an anomaly of the seas. However, that doesn’t change our bond, our fierce loyalty, our capabilities. I look out upon a group of people closer than family! Perhaps you’ve had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, but tell me this! Could any of those members of your previous lives fight back to back with you? No! They could not! We are a special breed, and there will never be anyone who can understand us as we can understand each other! And we ought to never forget this! Do not forget the brotherhood forged by fire. I know that I never will!”

Cheers erupted from every corner as sailors drank gleefully. A few of the more out of commission crewmates were sobbing uglily, hugging whoever was in their vicinity and making slightly incomprehensible statements of affection and loyalty. Beidou sat down, smiling at the chaos in front of her. Yes, she really was part of a band of brothers, and there was no reason to forget or doubt that. Why was it then that she felt as if she’d been somewhat deceitful? And why was it then that her eyes once more drifted towards you and the sailor who was now enthusiastically slapping you on the back?

The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol, as Beidou downed drink after drink. She didn’t walk up to you, didn’t try to acknowledge the source of her unease. Why should she? It was a party after all, and there were other things to do. Passing out just as the sun was beginning its ascent once more into the sky Beidou wondered if she was always going to feel this way when anyone got slightly flirty with you. If so, well, she was in for a rough time.

The next day was greeted by a pounding headache. The sun was much too bright, and Beidou let out an annoyed yelp as she stumbled towards her window, trying to not fall flat on her face as she grasped for the curtains. Yanking on them awkwardly she had just managed to get them somewhat closed before there was a knock on her door. Cursing the captain drew herself up as much as she possibly could in her current state, hoping that her clothes didn’t look too much like she’d simply slept in them.

“Come in.”

“I thought you might want a pitcher of water.”

Your voice was soft and slightly apologetic. Letting out a sigh of relief Beidou nodded, allowing herself to stumble back towards her hammock and flop onto the blanket. Wow she had drank a lot last night. You walked over to her desk, steps too steady to be that of a hungover person. Pouring a glass of water you stared at Beidou as she drank, a question in your eyes.

“What is it? You seem to want to ask me a question.”

“Are you sure you’re up to answering?”

“Well now I won’t be able to rest until you tell me it.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled. “Was something wrong last night?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean you didn’t even walk over to me once. I was kind of surprised, to be honest.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I just want to know why you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Beidou wrinkled her nose. Her head throbbed in protest and she quickly dropped the expression, sighing before taking another drink of water. “Well, perhaps I was slightly avoiding; but it’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Whose fault was it then?”

Beidou paused, trying to gather her thoughts as she searched for an answer. “You know that I don’t mind some familiarity on this ship.”

“Yes, as you so eloquently put last night,” you giggled slightly. Ignoring the subtle tease Beidou continued on.

“Well, I mean it; but it seems like I’m not very good at following my own rules. That shipmate you were flirting with last night? I just, I don’t know. Normally I don’t mind, y’know? But this time, well, it couldn’t stop bothering me. Even though you didn’t seem to mind it at all.”

“I didn’t mind it because he was drunk off his ass.” You pointed out, voice still soft and understanding. Taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours you leaned over to press a quick kiss on your partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry to hear it was bothering you though.”

“It’s not just that,” Beidou admitted. It seemed the floodgates of her thoughts had opened, and now she felt the need to tell you everything. “It’s that I couldn’t even follow my own rules, that I couldn’t stop myself from feeling… almost resentful. A captain, a good leader, they follow their own rules. It’s the only way to whip all the idiots into shape. But I couldn’t do that, I failed last night; I failed as a leader, I failed as a partner. I couldn’t follow my own example. Some leader.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. Squeezing Beidou’s hand you shook your head slightly. “I know that the people on this ship sort of see you as a goddess, which you are, to me at least. Still, even goddesses can sometimes have flaws. Besides, if a shipmate ever came to you with these fears you’d absolutely laugh it off, give them a pat on the back, and send them on their way. So maybe you should follow your own example in that way. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Beidou’s gut reaction was to contradict you, to point out once more how she had failed. However she was too tired, and your point was making a suspicious amount of sense. “Very well,” she smiled slightly, “you have a way with words darling. You sure you haven’t missed a career as a siren?”

“I already have a lovely sailor, thank you very much,” you giggled. Pressing soft kisses across Beidou’s cheeks you stood up. “Now drink a lot of water and get some rest. We can’t have our captain out of commission.”

“I trust I’m not the only one sleeping in today?”

“Oh definitely not! It’ll probably take a week before we’re in any shape to treasure hunt again.”

“Pity.”

“So greedy!” You gasped in fake surprise.

“As if you didn’t know that when you signed up.”

“I don’t know I never pegged you as the jealous type,” you said in a sing-song voice. Beidou felt her cheeks redden.

“Shaddup.”

Your laughter filled the cabin, bright and rejuvenating. Beidou couldn’t help but crack a small smile herself. How had she ever gotten so lucky in regards to her partner? Regardless of how, she wasn’t about to take you for granted.

  Childe

Childe liked to think of himself as one of the “good ones” when it came to Harbingers to work under. Was he somewhat demanding and only expected the best when it came to combat? Well, yes. Did he regularly debase his coworkers and underlings? No, he wasn’t Scaramouche after all. As long as you were passionate in your drive to serve the Tsaritsa and as long as you never missed out on your training, well Childe was sure that he could never have a problem with you.

That was, in fact, not true.

One of the Fatui messengers had been talking to you for almost twenty minutes now, though about what Childe hadn’t the slightest idea. After all, he’d already gotten the message that he needed, and the messenger surely had no business with you – you didn’t even work for the Fatui. Still there the messenger stood and there you stood next to him, a small smile on your face as you let out a soft laugh in regards to whatever they were saying.

Childe knew that he had no reason to feel as he did, but that didn’t stop irritation from rising inside him, and a sudden urge to flaunt his superiority that he usually reserved for the field of battle rose up inside of him. He didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly struggling against the urge to run up to you and throw his arms around you, but the urge was certainly there. What in Teyvat were you talking to that messenger about? What could possibly take up so much of your time? Considering the small fragments of conversation that made it to his ears Childe ruled that it was nothing truly of importance.

Letting himself lounge even more across his office chair Childe let out a slight sound of annoyance. Weren’t the two of you doing something before the nuisance came along? Sure, it wasn’t necessarily the most important thing, but discovering the best place in Liyue to study the stars was hardly worthless. After all, being somewhere high up and with a good view meant a better survey of the land around you. Who knew when some pesky Millelith or intrepid adventurer might try to attack the Fatui members scattered across the plains and mountains in Liyue? It was imperative to have eyes on everything, certainly more important than whatever this was!

Finally giving into his rising irritation Childe walked over to the two of you. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Childe tried to give the messenger a smile that didn’t convey ‘scram or I’m kicking you out’. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but my partner and I have business to do and I’m sure that your other messages won’t deliver themselves. To the Tsaritsa information is everything and all that, so you should probably make sure people actually get said information.”

“Oh, uh, yes my lord. I’m sorry.”

The messenger pulled himself up straighter, giving an awkward bow. Turning to go the messenger didn’t fail to turn back around to give you one last smile. Accentuating his smile once more Childe finally detached himself from you as the messenger walked out of the office, shutting the door softly behind him.

After that the messenger seemed to be showing up everywhere. Childe could’ve sworn he was getting more mail in a week than he had in all his previous months in Liyue. Not to mention how awkward the timing of the deliveries seemed to seemed to be. What was the point of getting “important” mail right before the Bank ostensibly closed? What was Childe supposed to do with the information now? Never mind the fact that the letters and notes he was getting seemed to be getting more and more mundane, even nonsensical. A shipment of weaponry to be picked up, that might be important. But specifications on the renovations Dottore was making on his lair? Why would Childe ever need to know something like that?

Nor did it escape Childe’s notice that these messages always seemed to come with at least twenty minutes of conversation with you. How was the Harbinger supposed to concentrate when someone was yakking away in his office? Besides, what did it matter to you what this person’s favorite flowers were? Childe knew that the Tsaritsa was often quite ingenious in her schemes, but he truly couldn’t see what relaying someone’s favorite flowers could do? Had he mentioned before that you weren’t even a member of the Fatui?

Every day the messenger would endlessly chat with you about the stupidest things, and every day Childe would end up interrupting the two of you. What started with slinging an arm around your shoulder was slowly escalating. First it was an arm, then two, then an arm around your waist, then a head on your shoulder. One time he’d even pulled you right against him, smiling slightly as you let out a squeak of surprise.

Of course Childe knew what he was experiencing, was not necessarily unfamiliar with the concept of jealousy. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you about it. After all jealousy was a shallow, grasping sort of emotion; something that caused generals to fight against one another to approach him or the Harbingers instead of tending to their own troops. Jealousy was a useless sort of emotion, and not one that a warrior such as himself ought to feel. Besides, did he really need to feel jealous about an annoyingly persistent messenger? They were hardly above a weed in the hierarchy of things.

Still, Childe couldn’t exactly deny that he was feeling jealous. Avoidance was one thing, deceit was another. Even if he didn’t want to tell you about what he was feeling, he would never lie to you about it. Which is why at the end of another tedious twenty minute conversation when the messenger had finally left and you turned around to ask him if something was wrong Childe found himself frozen, stuck between quite the rock and a hard place.

“Why would you ask such a question darling? Does something seem wrong to you?”

“Childe, please. You’ve been clingier than barnacle recently. Are you even supposed to be at the office today; weren’t you supposed to inspect an outpost in Dragonspine today?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with my wonderful, amazing partner! Is there something wrong with that?”

“For you? Yes, there absolutely is. Childe, are, are you upset about something?”

Childe stared at you for a moment, crumbling under your persistent gaze. He could tell that you were worried, could tell in the slant of your mouth and the furrow of your brow. He couldn’t very well say no. That would be lying after all. He was upset about something, even if it was something utterly beneath him. He was still upset.

“That messenger has been annoying me.”

“The one that just left?” You turned to look at the closed door behind you, a puzzled expression on your face. “But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re flirting with you.”

“They’re not!” Your expression was incredulous, but you paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something very seriously. “At least, I don’t think they are. Are they?”

“Yes,” Childe let out a snort. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. Why else would they be delivering the most worthless information before chatting with you when they should be somewhere else?”

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “But Childe, it’s not like I’d ever be interested in them. I mean, I can see how it’d be kind of annoying to have someone invade your personal space, but why the clinginess?”

Childe stared at you for a moment. “You’re kinda dense you know.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh you absolutely are. How else would you not realize that I’m jealous?”

“Well, well because I don’t know. You just don’t seem the jealous type. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever have interest in anyone other than you. I don’t know, I just don’t see the point.”

“You really are dense.” Childe smiled a small, frustrated smile. Letting his head drop into the crook of your neck he let out sigh. “I know that there’s no reason that I should’ve be jealous. I just, am. I don’t know why, but seeing that messenger flirting with you for days on end, I couldn’t help it.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Your tone shifted slightly as you reached up to card gentle fingers through Childe’s orange locks. “Sometimes we’re just weird like that. Just as long as you know that you never have reason to be jealous, then you can be jealous sometimes. Alright?”

“Alright.” Childe whispered, finally letting himself relax a bit.

Raising his head he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small purr of happiness, gladly reciprocating. The weight on the Harbinger’s chest lightened, and he was finally met with the feeling of lazy contentment.

“Now, don’t you have an inspection to attend?” You smiled indulgently. “Go on, I’ve got errands to do anyways. As much as I appreciate the attention, you have to lessen the clinginess, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises darling.”

The sound of your indignant squawk, combined with Childe’s laughter, chased him out of the room and down the staircase.

  Eula

As a member of the esteemed Lawrence family Eula was confident in the fact that such base emotions as jealousy were utterly beneath her. What did people take her for? A commoner? What a presumptuous line of thought!

No, it was certainly not jealousy that Eula was feeling right now. What a preposterous notion. She was simply irritated that a Guild member had forgotten all respect due to the Knights of Favonius. After all, you were a part of Mondstadt’s frontline protectors, a far cry from those poor fools who relied only upon commission to prove their worth. Yes, it was simply how presumptuous that lowly Guild member was being, taking up your time on your patrol across the parapet of the wall surrounding Monstadt, to engage in such a frivolous act as flirting.

Surely there was nothing more to it? No, it was not even worth it to pose such a stupid question. After all, what was a lowly adventurer to Eula? A nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to be worried about. There was no reason to pause at the tower door, no reason not to simply walk over to you, her partner and coworker. Your time on patrol was done, it was time to come in. Why then was she hesitating?

“You must love the view up here,” the adventurer smiled widely.

“Yes, it’s very nice!” You were all smiles.

“I’m sure it’s made all the more beautiful by your presence,” the adventurer pressed on.

“Ah, t-thanks,” you replied, smiling again and reaching to grasp the back of your neck. “Really, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all!”

The adventurer appeared to want to say something else, but Eula had long ago decided that things had gone too far. Who did this mere Guild member think they were?

“Your time is up soldier, you are needed in the afternoon meeting.”

Eula tried to keep her posture as correct as possible, looking straight past the interloper to you. You seemed to brighten, rushing over to Eula and nodding enthusiastically.

“Eula! Of course! I’ll be down, right this instant.”

“Good,” Eula replied, giving a curt not. Glancing over towards the adventurer she crossed her arms. “As for you, layawaying a knight of Favonius is a blemish upon the Adventurer’s Guild. Such a discretion surely must be paid with vengeance. Mark my words, I will not let this deed go unpunished.”

The adventurer stiffed. Taking a step towards Eula their face contorted into a snarl. “Listen here you Lawrence –”

“We’ll be going now!” You jumped in, glancing at you Eula nodded. Turning around she kept her features neutral. However she noticed the way you gestured apologetically at the fool before going to follow Eula, expression one of undeniable embarrassment.

Perhaps it was too much to hope that the adventurer might’ve learned their lesson. There they were the next day, standing right in front of you, acting as if yesterday’s squabble had never happened. Talking your ear off just as before Eula couldn’t help but frown at how they were to you, how they always seemed just about to brush their fingers against yours. How crude to do such a thing to a perfect stranger.

“Dear, is everything alright?”

Your voice snapped Eula out of her reverie. The two of you were walking towards Headquarters to grab your extra equipment before heading home. Normally Eula cherished such quiet moments, feeling like they were the few times when she could be utterly confident, utterly herself. This time however she found the events of the week pressing on her. Only managing to nod Eula quickened her pace slightly, as if to outrun the feelings that were growing inside her.

 “Hey, is something wrong?”

Eula lifted her gaze away from the papers she’d been halfheartedly scanning, her eyes meeting Amber’s. Eula would be the first person to admit that she wasn’t exactly sure how she had become friends with the eccentric Outrider. Indeed most of the things about Amber on paper grated Eula quite a bit. Still Amber was probably Eula’s closest coworker – other than you – and closest thing to a best friend that Eula had. It was perhaps unsurprising that Amber should notice something was wrong, and Eula was almost pleased by the fact that Amber was concerned about her.

“Nothing of great importance,” the knight replied. “There is only a nuisance which has been taking up a great deal of time and seems to still be interfering, despite all my efforts.”

“What kind of nuisance?” Amber tilted her head. Eula looked away, staring at the shelves that lined her office. She didn’t really want to look her coworker in the eyes.

“A, human nuisance. There has been an adventurer from the Guild who has been taking up a great deal too much of my partner’s time. They are utterly too presumptive in familiarity, and I feel that they are jeopardizing the Knights of Favonius with their irresponsible actions. Yet, despite all my efforts, they refuse to rethink their devious ways. It is no small problem.”

“That does sound very unpleasant.”

“Indeed, and yet I know not what to do. My reprimands have fallen on deaf ears.”

“Have you thought of maybe telling your partner.”

“Why would I ever reveal such feelings to my partner?!” Eula whipped her head around to look at Amber. The smile on her face was somewhat self-congratulatory.

“Eula, can I ask if you’ve considered something?”

“What is that?” Whatever Amber was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Have you considered the possibility that you might be jealous?”

“What, what nonsense! As if I should ever fall prey to such, to such base sensibilities!” Eula felt her face redden. Finding a particularly dirty spot upon the ground Eula stared intently past her friend. No, surely Amber was wrong.

“If you say so,” Amber shrugged. “But you might want to think about it. I mean, if I were feeling jealous I’d want to tell my partner. Besides, isn’t it the duty of a knight of Favonius to be honest and true?”

“You’re taking this awfully seriously,” Eula mumbled.

“Maybe,” Amber smiled, “but I do care about you. Remember that.”

With that the Outrider grabbed the paper she’d presumably been looking for and walked out the door before Eula could think of any sort of comeback. Turning her gaze back to her work Eula let out an exasperated sigh. Vengeance would be required against her coworker for such a ridiculous suggestion.

It was beginning to get on evening as Eula raced towards your regular guard spot. She’d worked later than usual today, probably spurned on by irritation at Amber’s ridiculous suggestions, and now Eula hoped that you hadn’t given up waiting for her and decided to go home. Climbing up the stairs her mind drifted once more to what Amber had said. Jealous? A member of the Lawrence clan was jealous? No, it was surely ridiculous. I mean, sure, she found the majority of her family members repulsive and vain and lazy to a fault, but surely she had to take something out of all the time she had spent within their midst. Besides, appearances had to be kept up, if only for the song and dance that the other people of Liyue insisted on continuing, long after it had stopped being of any use.

And yet, if she really was jealous, which of course she wasn’t, wouldn’t it be right to tell you? It was these thoughts that chased Eula. As she reached the top of the stairs to the opening of the parapet she decided that, if Amber’s theory were somehow proved right, she would tell you. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the familiar silhouette of an adventurer meant it was the perfect time to figure this question out.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled. “Still, Monstadt must be guarded day and night, mustn’t it?”

“Ah yes, the Knights must do all they can to protect our glorious city. Still, would there not be another reason for you staying up here so late?”

“Not particularly,” you shook your head.

“Are you sure about that?” The adventurer leaned towards you. Eula once more felt her heart seize up with that now all too common emotion. Was this jealousy?

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure.” The more that Eula had watched this song and danse the more she had realized how awkward you seemed around this person.

“Oh come on, a lonely figure looking out from on a wall, it’s sounds pretty story-like doesn’t it? Then again, you are straight out of a fairytale.”

“Thanks,” you replied, laughing somewhat awkwardly.

At this point Eula had come to a decision. Regardless of what this emotion was, and she was becoming increasingly worried it was, in fact, jealousy, you still seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. Walking out onto the parapet she took your hand, glaring at the adventurer which stood across from you.

“I see you are once more distracting one of the Knights.”

“They didn’t mind, did you?” The adventurer’s mouth screwed up into something resembling a sneer. When you said nothing they shook their head. “You just had to come and make everything awkward; typical of a Lawrence member to be such a pain in the ass.”

“And now you insult one of the Knights! Indeed, the punishment will surely be great; and, until I decide what punishment is to be meted out, I suggest you take your leave.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” The adventurer sputtered, but Eula merely smiled.

“Indeed I can. If I find you harassing one of our Knights one more time, know that I will not be so lenient as to merely give you a warning.”

“I wasn’t harassing anyone!”

“Distracting them then, making them unable to perform their duties, being a public nuisance. Do any of these serve you better?” Eula waved her hand. “Not that the terminology matters at this point. What matters is that you stop your current behavior.”

“Please just listen to what Eula says,” you piped up. Smiling a small smile you walked over to the adventurer. “I know that you were just trying to flirt, but I think that you should shoot your shot elsewhere now. Okay?”

The adventurer looked slightly red in the face, though whether it was embarrassment or anger was anyone’s guess. Slinking away, grumbling something under their breath, the Guild member was soon down the stairs and out of sight.

Sighing loudly you turned to Eula.

“Thanks for that. I mean, really! I don’t think they were trying to be actively malicious, but really sometimes you just have to read a room! I’m just glad I didn’t have to break it to them by myself.”

Staring at the stones under her feet Eula found herself mumbling something.

“What?”

“It, it wasn’t for your sake.”

“Ah yes, I know, it was for the honor and glory of the Knights of Favonius! Still, thank you.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. It was that, well, Amber’s been talking to me.”

“Amber?” You tilted your head, evidently confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “What was she talking to you about?”

“About a very foolish emotion, one that I would never dream of feeling myself. And yet, I, I do believe that maybe, just maybe mind you, it had a factor in, in my actions.” Unwilling to come right out with it Eula found herself frowning. “The audacity of her really, to imply that a member of the Lawrence family might experience something as base as jealousy!”

Looking up towards you Eula saw recognition pass over your features. For a moment you did nothing, then suddenly a small, soft smile broke out on your face. Walking over to Eula, you gently enclosed your partner’s hands in yours.

“Thank you for telling me Eula, I’m sure it must’ve been difficult.”

“I-I’m not sure about it yet!” Eula stammered. “Only Amber wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“That does sound like Amber,” you let out a soft laugh. “Still, thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me, okay?”

“A-alright.”

“I’m glad.”

You leaned over to give Eula a quick peck, before turning to walk down the stairs. Eula followed, one of her hands still intertwined firmly with yours. Suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had all week.

[sofreddie]

Scent From Above 5

Summary: Jensen finally gets what he wants.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Fan Reader

ABO BINGO: Marking

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Heat, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Mating, Knotting, Claiming/Marking, Breeding Kink), Dirty Talk

Word Count: 1,633

A/N: So this was only supposed to be five parts. But uh…there ended up being a double-dosing of smut (you're welcome). It also allowed me to squeeze in another @spnabobingo square - Marking - which, duh 🙄, why didn't I think of that before?! Anyway, so there will now be one additional part which will finish up the whole story.

PART 4

"Yours, Alpha," she breathed out, holding his gaze, letting him know she was ready, her skin electrified from his touch, her core throbbing for his attention.

"Yours," he responded, before diving in for an all-consuming kiss.

He guided her back until her calves hit the bed and she plopped down in a seated position. She looked up at him, stood before her in all his glory before her eyes traveled to the engorged cock that stood erect before her. She subconsciously licked her lips. Jensen chuckled as he wrapped one hand tightly around the base.

"You wanna suck my cock, pretty Omega?" he chuckled darkly, brushing the hair tenderly out of her face before tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of her head, "Open up," he commanded as he brought the tip to her lips.

She willingly obeyed, letting her Omega instincts take charge and placing her trust in Jensen. She opened her mouth and he slowly fed her his length until he was hitting the back of her throat. She hummed happily, hollowing her cheeks. He groaned, his hand tightening in her hair as he began pumping his hips along with her bobbing.

He was so wound up, and she was so fucking eager. He was so close to coming. He pulled her off of him with a pop and she immediately pouted.

"I wanted your cum," she whined.

"You'll get it," he promised, moving her up the bed to lay on the pillows. He kissed up her thighs, his hands framing her mound, "Gonna fill this sweet, little pussy, Omega," he took a deep breath of her scent and she blushed, enthralled and slightly embarrassed, "Claim you inside and out."

His tongue peeked out to taste her and she lost all coherent thought. He swirled his tongue around her nub, before flicking over it just once. He dragged his tongue down through her folds with a groan before diving deep inside her. He twisted his tongue, feeling her walls and tasting her slick. It was like her scent but concentrated. With fingers and tongue and unmatched enthusiasm, Jensen quickly brought her over the edge, wringing every bit of pleasure he could from her body as she thrashed and moaned.

While she caught her breath he crawled up her body, leaving warm, wet kisses in his wake and readorning her with his hickeys and love bites. When he reached her neck he settled his body against hers with a sigh.

He breathed deeply of her again. He dreamt of her scent. He clung to her shirt, desperately trying to wring every bit of scent he could from it. He nearly found himself in tears as its loss, affecting him in ways he'd never imagined.

He pulled back and focused his eyes on hers. She smiled warmly at him, her hands caressing him, her fingertips dipping into curves and lines with a worshipful touch.

He shifted his hips, dragging his cock along her folds before catching at her entrance. He locked eyes with her once more, cupping her face as he slowly slid home. Her mouth hung open in a silent gasp as he filled her.

She missed the feel of him inside her. She had played their weekend together over and over again in her mind. But her memories had let her down because he felt even more incredible than before, she was sure of it.

"So good," he moaned, gently kissing her neck where his hickey once lay. His favorite spot. His chosen spot, since that first night. He moved slow, their eyes locked as they simply felt and reconnected.

He wanted to take his time, to draw out every moment of their coupling. But she was still weak, her body desperate. He wanted to be a good Alpha and take care of her. She whined, clinging to him, needing more.

"I got you, Baby," he pecked her lips, turning her to her stomach and lifting her hips. She quickly and eagerly moved into presentation. He groaned at the sight, before hearing her whimper once more. The same heartbreaking sound she had made when he found her on the floor.

"I got you, Omega," he soothed her again as he took up his place behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her spine, before adjusting his hips and sliding home in one, smooth stroke.

She submitted to him completely and the Alpha rewarded her with the harsh and dominating pace her body craved. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands planted firmly on her hips, keeping her in place and giving him leverage.

He groaned as he looked down where they connected, seeing his shaft glistening from her slick. Her pussy clutched at him hungrily, sucking him in deeper on every thrust.

"Jay, please," she begged, almost sobbing, "Please, want your knot, want your claim."

He snarled and fucker her harder, "What was that Omega?"

"Alpha!" she corrected herself, so close to the edge, "Alpha please."

Jensen brushed her hair away from her neck, licking over his chosen spot.

"Gonna claim you," he gave a final warning, "Gonna breed you Omega."

She gasped and moaned as her climax crashed over her, his words as impactful as his brutal mating. As her walls clenched tight around his throbbing shaft, he bit hard into her neck. His knot swelled rapidly, locking them tightly together as his cum flooded her womb.

He bit down harder, his hips still erratically thrusting as he rode out the waves. He was lightheaded and swimming with euphoria as he finally fulfilled the bond his body was craving.

They both slumped forward onto the bed, Jensen's body covering hers like a blanket, but she clearly didn't mind. She was practically purring beneath him as he carefully cleaned his mark, lapping at the wounds. He was attentive, careful, and thorough.

By the time he was satisfied with his work, she had fallen asleep. He chuckled, before rolling them on their sides. His knot tugged slightly as he spooned her. He breathed deeply of her once more, already finding notes of her scent changing, adapting to include his claim, his essence.

He knew she'd need him again, and soon. But with their coupling complete, she was safe. She was his.

Jensen smiled at Y/N as he finished washing the dishes. When she woke, Jensen made her shower and now was making her eat and hydrate. She whined cutely. But he knew there was more to taking care of her than just fucking her through her heat.

He was determined to show her that he was a good Alpha. That he meant his claim and stood by their bond. That he wanted her completely. He had been anxiously thinking about it since he woke.

"I want you to claim me too," he said once she was finished.

Her eyes went wide as she processed.

"What?"

"I want you to know that I'm yours as much as you are mine," he explained, pulling her into his arms, "Whenever you have doubts, I want you to see your mark and know that it's real and I'm yours."

"B-but…most Alphas don't-"

"I'm not most Alphas," he stated firmly, kissing her possessively. She melted into him and he scooped her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He carried her to the couch and sat down with her in his lap.

"This is familiar," she chuckled, blushing profusely.

"Should have claimed you then," he breathed out, dragging his nose along her hairline as he breathed her in, "Then we never would've been apart. Your heat never would've got so bad," his voice shook as he remembered how scared he was.

She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes studying his own before she kissed him tenderly. She held his gaze as she slipped his cock from his boxer briefs. Using her other hand, she slid her panties to the side before sinking down on his length.

"Y/N," he moaned as his hands clutched her sides. His head rolled to lay against the back of the couch as he adjusted his hips, "You take charge," he told her with a smirk, submitting to her will. He needed her to understand they were partners, equals, mates.

He never failed to empower her. To make her feel greater than she did before, sexier, more confident. She couldn't believe her luck in having Jensen as an Alpha. She was quickly becoming addicted to the way he looked at her with stars and adoration in his eyes. It was the same way she looked at him.

It didn't take long for them to climb to that high together once more, their bodies quickly learning each other and adapting. Her eyes locked onto his exposed neck, his words from earlier echoing in her ears in time with the pumping of her blood.

Her eyes flashed to his, barely open slits as he succumbed to the pleasure. He nodded at her, tilting his head a little more and using his other hand to gently guide her by the back of the head, encouraging her mark.

She kissed the skin reverently before parting her lips, biting down and breaking into the skin as they both fell over the edge. Jensen hissed, his hips stuttering and knot popping before he gave into his own urges, renewing his claim.

"Does it hurt?" Y/N asked after they cleaned the marks. Her eyes were glued to her claim.

"No," he promised, pecking her lips and pulling her flush against him as they waited for his knot to go down. He'd wear her mark proudly. It wasn't conventional, but he didn't care in the slightest what anyone might think. She was his, and he was hers.

PART 6 (Final)

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

@deanjensenficsandart

@woodworthti666

@charred-angelwings

@deandreamernp

@laycblack