#And again its a big ass event no one asked for

[vampibrainrot]

Me, right after I finished reading Green Arrow (2023) #06

[lavender---sunshine]

in all seriousness i 90% sure im going to quit my job tomorrow and for a while i will have just enough money to live on and will have to spruce up my resume and job hunt and stress but MY GOD i need to do something else because this is making me suicidal

[bambiimutt]

Hello, I loved your writing, and I wanted to request some relationship headcons with Masky

Relationship Head cannons

I wanted to do this for everyone I write for cuz I want them to get some attention too!! I hope that’s okay!

TW!! Mentions of stalking, talking of perverts but not super heavy, possessiveness, if I missed anyway let me know!!

Masky/Tim Wright

-Honestly at first he’s a bit awkward, i see him as socially awkward in general so him being in a relationship? Oh my fuck. And it’s not the Awh such a cutie patootie he’s so awkward. No like he’s so awkward he doesn’t know what to do with you. He’s so awkward he goes silent. Awkward babe.

-once the relationship grows into something deeper he’s better. He definitely still has his moments, but it’s now more how he landed you. How he was able to find someone that cares for him and puts up with him. He’s not much honestly just his random outbursts and waking up with no memory of his nights before.

-speaking of. A lot of trauma lays on his shoulders. After jays death who you don’t know much about and everything leading up to the events of marble hornets. All you knew was that he was supposed to be in this student film.. but shit happened. And he refuses to talk about it. You’ll ask him sometimes if you can watch the tapes but he tells you time and time again. No. More because he knows what he is and he doesn’t what you running from him. He’s with you yea but he doesn’t want to expose you to the operator.

-as mentioned in a few of my other posts. He’ll leave for weeks on end and if it’s not for weeks its almost every night. He’s leaving and coming back at ungodly hours. Most of the time you’re asleep and he waits till your asleep to do this. There’s been a few times his mask is left out because he comes home so drained that he kinda forgets to hide it.. and when you question it sometimes he does remember, and most times he doesn’t. But when you ask he’s stammering. He knows why he has it but doesn’t know how to tell you, doesn’t want to.

-he’s not the date night kind of guy but he doesn’t mind spending some time with you from time to time. He doesn’t want you to think he’s ignoring you or just not care for you because he leaves for weeks.. he wants you to know he loves having you around. It’s just. He can’t tell you about his life fully. When it comes to a date night it’s probably lots of time at home, watching a movie on his couch, cuddled up against him. If you fall asleep he’ll make sure you have all of the blanket. He can fully not be as tense, relaxing into you as you sleep against him.

-very very very sarcastic, it earns him smacks to the arm like 10 times a day.

-he’s alright with public affection but again he’s awkward.. sooo maybe don’t be so affectionate in public. But at home, he’s all over you, sleepy man, cuddled up to you, following you around the house. He seems so big and tough but he hates being away from you.

-Tim’s not crazily over protective. Maybe insecure at times but deep down he knows that you are with him because you truly love him. So if anyone ever approaches you he trusts that you can handle it yourself, if not he will 100% help you.. by torturing the guy the same night, and he’ll come back having that be his only memory.

Tobias Rogers

-ARF ARF ARF BITCH IS A FUCKING DOG. I’m telling you that mother fucker IS ALL OVER YOU. Now I’m not saying he isn’t one scary mother fucker. But he tries to keep his shitty ass fucking life out of his love life. Because really.. this isn’t what he wanted ever. He didn’t want to be part of this operator shit. So he tries to be normal? As normal as Toby can get.

-you actually help him a lot with his tics. If he can focus on something for long enough they don’t get as bad as they can get, they actually become more tame, so if he ever has a really bad tic attack, you’re always the one to talk him through it, to calm him down and to focus on your voice. And he’s better in no time.

-TALK ABOUT BEING A PRETTY MOTHER FUCKER.. YOU NEVER GET OVER HOW PRETTY THIS BITCH IS. messy brown hair, brown tired eyes, nicely shaped face, pretty fucking smile. He never used to have one but he ended up growing a semi beard. More of a patch on his chin. And what does he love the most? Hearing you tell him how pretty he is. Running your hands through his hair, kissing his face all over. God he could eat you right up.

-he’s a closeted pervert. But like not to the point where it’s unbearable but like he’s all over you. He’s grabbing your thighs.. he’s leaving hickeys all over. He’s a boob/chest guy. He just wants you close. So close you could fuse into one. He likes you in panties.. he also likes taking them whenever he has to be on a mission for weeks.. and we all know what he’s using them for.

-socially awkward mf. When you’re both out in public he’s so quiet. And he can’t do it alone anymore, not since he’s met you. If you’re ever on the bus, he’s as close as possible, hands fidgeting with your fingers, and staring down at them so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with others. Though there’s been a few times he’s had to interact with the people who complain about how much space he takes. He’s tall and lanky but the man manspreads like there’s no tomorrow. You have to grab his leg and pull it in because he’s just glaring.

-he kinda forgets that you can feel pain. Because he grew up not feeling pain he’s learned to be gentle with the things he cares about. But if you ever want to play fight he can sometimes forget, and get a little rough. So when you get hurt he’s pulling away instantly. “Fuck.. i.. I didn’t t-think that would h-hurt. Baby let me see it..” he’s babying you the rest of the night.

-now even though he’s a pretty good boyfriend he can be a bit much.. at times. He doesn’t mean to trust me. But he can get agitated quite easily. Certain tones can make him start to overthink, he can grow angered, upset. Just try to be reassuring and he should be okay.

-Toby is one of the overprotective ones. He will do anything and everything to go make sure whoever was all over you is not longer waking the fuck up. He might even steal you a little gift to make you feel better.

Ben Lawman/Drowned

-you might wanna buy some shit to keep the house from smelling like weed. And I mean it. He tries not to go crazy because he knows you don’t want the apartment smelling like it, but he can’t help himself sometimes.

-I’m not gonna lie to you, he most definitely watches you through cameras and your computer and shit. He’ll send pop up messages to you just to freak you out, etc. he thinks it’s so silly seeing you get so spooked out.

-he’s typically at home often. He doesn’t really go anywhere, aside from chilling in the fucking computer. So you get to have him around a lot.

-except it can get so fucking annoying. All in all he’s a really calm person, and keeps to himself but when you come along.. he’s all over you. Like suffocating. He wants you on his lap, he wants you sitting between his legs, cuddled up underneath his shirt, please just BE CLOSE. He’s much like Toby in that aspect. He just likes the physical love. Anything physical. I think it kinda brings him comfort too to be honest.. finally feeling the touch of someone. Something.

-like Toby he’s a fucking pervert. But like it’s hella known. He doesn’t keep that a secret. He’s a dirty motherfucker. Like I’m talking footjobs, cosplay.. but like that gamer girl, slutty look.. you name it he likes it.

-he likes to game so a lot of your time is probably spent watching him or playing with him. If you play with him though, be warned he’s a sore loser. He doesn’t rage but more or so finds excuses to show he should have won. But all in all, he’s just fooling around.. he enjoys that you can play with him, he likes that you like what he likes.

-immature. Not all the time but most definitely immature at times. To be fair when he died, he was still fairly young so sometimes his humour can be a bit.. questionable. Even if you aren’t laughing, he’s slapping his knee and pissing himself laughing, looking at you so that he can see your reaction. Just smile.

-he’s not overprotective. Like Tim he’s just really fucking insecure and I mean really. Really insecure. He sees other couples. How normal they are. How alive they are. And he can’t be that. He feels bad that he can never keep you warm because he’s an actual freezer. He feels like compared to others.. you could do so much better. So when someone hits on you.. he’s sulking. He’s walking further away from you. He’s just insecure. And scared to lose you. But these boys are also.. murderers. So knowing Ben.. well. That person shouldn’t have done that.

Jeffery Hodex/Jeff The Killer

-Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. Dickhead. Did I mention he’s a fucking asshole. He may seem like he doesn’t care about you. But I promise you he does. He just has weird ways of showing it..

-an actual fucking bully. I’m sure he’s made you cry time and time again, but you don’t do it in front of him, you don’t want him to think it hurts. Oh but if he knew.. if he knew how much it hurt you he’d beat himself up over it.

-he may seem like a fucking hard ass but he hates when you cry..he’s never one to show his emotions but it’s when those tears fall that he could break right there.

-hates public affection.. but at home? Different story. “Play with my hair.” “Jeff no, I’m busy.” “Please.. pretty please” there’s a moment of silence before you’re rolling your eyes and his head is on your lap.

-talk about sec when he’s angry. It’s a good way for him to get out his pent up anger, or if something happened he just needs you. So really what I’m trying to say is underneath all that hard exterior.. he does need you in many ways. Wether he likes to admit that or not.

-even though he’s an asshole.. he makes up for it with his rare sweet moments. To me. Jeff is.. not like others? I just mean, look wise he was always the odd one out not that he was ugly but like because he didn’t look like every other normal kid there. So having a metal head boyfriend..? With some kinda cool scaring by his lips in the form of a slight smile. Pale skin long black hair, tall and fit…. You know he’s playing the guitar to you. Yknow the room is gonna be filled with a bunch of black shit, band stuff, his weird collection of knives. On the note of he makes up for it with his sweet moments. Sometimes he’ll go through his collections with you. He will play the guitar for you, he’s also quite a good singer so expect some of that. (He most definitely sings you to sleep.. but he makes sure you’re half asleep first so you don’t remember it.)

-he’s not as horrible as he seems, he just.. doesn’t like showing his true emotions. He likes to look like the big bad tough guy. But really.. that scared little kid that hates the world is still in there. So what he needs is comfort. And you provide that. Just give him some time.

-overprotective. And if that was an understatement it would be far more then that. He is wayyyy too overprotective, possessive. You’re his. And his only. Nobody should speak to you in any form of flirting, nobody should look at you, touch you. You. Are. His. Now he keeps the killing out of your knowledge… as much as possible. Sometimes almost getting caught by you.. anyway. The person that looked at your ass and you didn’t even know? Yeah dead by 11 pm. You most definitely find out.

-type of motherfucker to have pictures of you on his phone with his hands around your throat, sitting on his lap, etc. post it. He wants you to. He’ll send them to you just to do it. He likes to show off what’s his.

-when I mentioned he was an asshole. I meant it. Because he doesn’t know how to handle his own emotions he can’t handle yours either. He internally freaks out. So what does he do? Does what he does best. Shuts you out and gets angry at you for showing your emotions

-please don’t be too upset.. he’ll be wandering in some point that night to hold you. He just doesn’t know how to tell what he’s going through.. so just hold him. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you.

Brian/Hoodie

-to be honest. He may be One of the more normal ones. Though when he leaves for weeks on end and comes back for a good while he’s just not himself. He’s quiet. He wants to be alone. He hates being touched, he snaps so much easier. But other then that. Brian tries to completely forget about everything he does and focuses on you.

-a lot of the time, he likes to spend quality time with you. Walking in the local park, doing art, helping him edit his “silly” little videos as you call them. Oh how oblivious you are. He’s a sweetheart, kind, caring. He’s gentle. He knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand. He knows what makes you tic, what makes you sulk, what makes you smile. You can thank him stalking you for that.

-yeah remember what I said about him being the most normal, he may have a few quirks. He stalks you from time to time. Not that he doesn’t trust you.. he just. Can’t take his eyes off of you. Ever. Because he doesn’t know what the operator could do.. and well. He just wants to see you, but more to keep you safe.

-he can’t sit still unless he knows where you are at, if you’re okay. And once he knows he can be at peace. So you can only imagine how fucking hard it is for him to be gone for weeks. He ignores all text messages he gets aside from yours. He’s constantly talking to you, making sure you’re okay. he just needs some reassurance and he’ll be okay.

-his camera is full of videos of you. He likes to take these home styles videos of you. Cooking in the kitchen in you’re underwear and his hoodie, you dancing in the living room, sleeping. He likes to look back at them from time to time.

-he makes sure to keep his pills and if you take any medication, organized and separated. He’d freak the fuck out if you accidentally took some of his. That and he needs a specific dosage.. one a doctor didn’t prescribe for him. Ahem. More his dosage of what he pleases. Don’t worry he claims he’s okay time and time again.

-he’s not like Tim with his memory loss, but he can forget things from Time to time. So if you can, if you were there just try and sit with him to help him remember. All he needs is to know that you’ll be patient.

-he likes kisses. Give them to him. Immediately. He wants them all over. His lips, cheeks, forehead. He’s such a sweet man.

[theemissuniverse]

i love ur fics sm, thank you for keeping this (somewhat inactive) fandom fed 😭🩷

could i request a fic with johnny cage (my literal husband) where the reader is generally a shy/reserved person who prefers to stay home, but goes to all of johnny’s events to support him. at one of his events, reader sees a woman getting too comfortable with johnny and she gets jealous and the reader becomes clingy/passive aggressive around the other woman, but when confronted/asked, she won’t admit that she’s jealous. i know u mainly write for 18+ so if you want it to lead to smut, that’s fine!

(sorry if its too long/specific feel free to ignore!)

“THE CATWALK” JOHNNY CAGE X FEM!READER

A/N : thank you! Hope you like this. Also for little bit on context, for the ending of armageddon, it was you that stopped Titan Shang Tsung.

WARNINGS : MINORS DONT INTERACT. Nothing major but mentions of Johnny being “hard” and talk about sex

MASTERLIST

After the events of armageddon, you had actually became best friends with none other than Johnny Cage. It was interesting to say the least since the two of you were polar opposites but hey, your friendship was good.

Johnny became a big hit director and his movie “Mortal Kombat” was out at the premiere. So, of course he invited you to be his plus one.

Now, you weren’t very much of the party go-er. If anything you’d prefer to stay at home and lay in your bed for eternity but your best friend Johnny wouldn’t let you become a couch potato.

Not only that but you felt like you had an obligation to him as his best friend to go with him to his biggest night yet. And so, you did.

In the movie, there was a character named “Athena” that was written based on you. Johnny said you were gonna love her but you were a little nervous.

You were getting ready at Johnny’s mansion just because it was easier since he had a limo to take you to the big night.

You were in his guest bedroom, getting all dolled up. Your dress was a long dark green dress that reached to your feet. You were finishing up the last touches.

The door was already opened but Johnny walked up and gave it a knock anyway. “You almost ready? The limo is-“ He stopped his sentence when he had seen you. You were absolutely stunning to him. “Wow.”

You looked back at him. Then you started to get worried with your appearance and you looked back at the mirror. “Oh no. Does this not look good?”

“No, no. You look hot.”

When you saw Johnny pulling out his phone, you immediately shook your head and tried to hide your face with your hands. “Stop.”

Johnny ignored you and recorded you anyway. “Come on. The world’s gotta know I got the hottest best friend in the world.” Johnny came up behind you and placed his hand on your lower back. You instinctively dropped your hands.

You sighed some before shoving him away. “Alright. You got your shot. Now, go away. Forever.”

“You know you like me.” Johnny gave you a playful kiss on the cheek before he stopped recording. He started to walk out the room. “Hurry up. You get ready like a girl.”

“Maybe because I am a girl. Crazy thought I know.”

Johnny knew you’d be nervous walking the red carpet with him so he made sure to keep you close at all times. He also always had his hand placed on your lower back.

Your nerves had died down just a little. Johnny made the experience all the more joyful with his humor. He made you laugh.

The truth was, you liked Johnny. A lot but you’d believe he’d never go with a girl like you. I mean he’s literally a hot shot movie director now.

It was time to watch the movie. You were excited to see it and how Johnny saw you. Again, the nerves came back.

Through out the movie, your double, Athena, was described to be a shy and reserved individual but a really good martial artist.

In real life, you were the mentor for Raiden, Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Johnny and helped them train for months.

You had laughed because you caught on that the character that was suppose to be playing “Johnny” was getting his ass kicked by your character. (As it had happened in real life.)

Johnny had made sure to watch your reactions to the movie and he smiled every time you laughed. It made him feel good that you liked it.

What you didn’t expect was at the end of the movie. Your character, Athena had defeated the powerful sorcerer and stopped evil through out all realms. Your character was viewed as the hero.

You were shocked. Johnny viewed you out to be a hero?

When it was done, Johnny was mingling with the crowd just trying to ask questions about the movie and what not.

That’s when you saw him talking to a woman. At first, you didn’t think anything of the conversation but then she gripped Johnny’s arm and began to laughed.

Something inside of you did a double take. What made you even more mad? Johnny was laughing with her and accepting her touch.

You shouldn’t be upset. You and Johnny weren’t dating. Not even in the slightest.

Oh but it did. It did very much.

So much so you did something that was not in your shy nature.

You walked over to Johnny and the woman. Your arm snuck around Johnny’s right arm. He looked to see it was you and smiled. “Hey (Y/N)-“

He was cut off by you grabbing the back of his neck and bringing him down to your lips. Johnny stood there, a little shocked but made sure to snap himself out of it. He kissed you back.

The woman scoffed as you made out with each other right in front of her. The kiss was starting to turn so sloppy that you two were tongue kissing.

When you thought you made your point- you pulled away and turned to look back at her. “You’re still here?” You questioned her, annoyed.

The woman waved you two off and walked away. Johnny was blinking his eyes. Completely confused. “Not that I didn’t enjoy every minute of that but what in the actual fuck just happened?”

It was like you yourself had snapped out of it. You shook your head and tried to walk away. “I don’t know but peace out-“

When you tried to walk away, Johnny grabbed your arm so you were forced to stand there. “Oh no. You’re not getting away that easy.”

You sighed a little, snatching your arm back. “I’m saving the world by one skank at a time. You should be thanking me. She probably had diseases.”

Johnny couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve had my ‘skank’ shots. I think I’d be alright.”

“Oh so you wanted to go out with her?”

“What in the world are you going on about?” Johnny then now understood. He snickered a little, shaking his head at himself for not realizing sooner.

You gave him a look. “What? What’s so funny? I’d like to know.”

He jabbed you in the shoulder playfully. “You like me.”

You tried to act like the idea of you ever possibly liking Johnny Cage was the most disgusting idea ever to know. “What? Me? Like you? No way. We’re friends.”

“Uh huh…” Johnny trailed off, smiling and not convinced.

You placed your hands on your hips at his tone. “I’m serious. I can’t even see myself being with you in like any scenario.”

“Right…so just to be clear-you tongue kiss all your friends like that?”

You couldn’t even defend yourself it felt like because in reality he was right. “Never in a million years. Like you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?”

“And a player and conceited and the worst person on the planet and-“

Johnny didn’t let you finish your rant. He cupped the back of your neck and pulled you up to kiss him.

As much as your brain told you not you, your heart was doing cartwheels. You had to. You kissed him back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

Johnny’s left hand went to your hip. He pulled you in closer so he closed the distance between you two. He licked your bottom lip and nibbled on it slightly, making you let out a moan.

He chuckled against the kiss and he pulled away. “So you don’t like me?”

“No.” You said and then walked away from him, causing him to shake his head.

Back at home, you were back at Johnny’s guest room. The plan was always for you to spend the night after the premiere but now it felt awkward.

You were in your PJs. You were making the bed but frustratingly so. You could not get the sheets to lay on equal sides.

A knock was at your door. The door was already opened and you looked to see Johnny there in his own PJs. They were cartoon PJs with pajama pants and a t-shirt. You should’ve expected he’d wear something like that.

“You’re a kick ass martial artist but don’t know how to make a bed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “We did not have these kinds of beds growing up thank you very much.”

Johnny snickered. “Let me help you.” He walked into the room and grabbed the sheet from you. He then started to lay it on the bed.

You felt anxiety creep in. You twiddled with your fingers. You couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry I interrupted you with that girl.”

“You mean your sorry that you cockblocked me?” When Johnny saw your expression, he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Kissing you was worth more than that anyways.” He said and started to put the second sheet on.

All the flirting Johnny ever did was now getting to you and you officially couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you do that? Why do you always flirt with me?”

Johnny finished placing the sheet on the bed. He looked up to you and sighed. “(Y/N)-“

“And then the movie. Why did you write me like that? Why did you write me that I was the hero? Why do you do things like that?”

Johnny took a step towards you and grabbed your hand. “Because that’s how I see you. (Y/N), you’re the most badass girl I know.”

You took your hand away from him. “I’m not.” You turned so your back was facing him. “I have anxiety, I don’t like to talk to people, I get nervous even by the slightest bit of social interaction. What about any of that is ‘badass’?”

Johnny rubbed on your back and shoulders to try and relieve the tension that was built up in you. “Nothing you said has anything to do with being badass. You’re amazing and you do deserve it.”

“Why are you always so nice to me?”

“You know why.” Johnny forced you to face him. He cupped your face and wiped away all of your frustrated tears. “You know I like you, doll.”

You sniffled a little. Then brought your own hand to your face to wipe away the tears. Finally, you admit it. “I like you too.” You pushed him away slightly. “But I don’t think I can do this with you. We’re both on…different levels. You like to go fast all the time and I’m always slow in the background.”

Johnny grabbed both your hands. He set you and himself down on the bed. “Then I’ll be in the background with you. I’ll go slow. Slow as a turtle.” You chuckled a little at his analogy. He lifted your chin up so you were facing him. “Nothings gotta change.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’ll still be best friends. I’ll still mess with you and you’ll still eat all my food. The only difference is a title. Oh and also really great sex.” You swatted his arm a little at the last thing and he laughed. “Come on, (Y/N). One shot- that’s all I’m asking.”

You thought about it for a moment. You did really like Johnny. He was more than a best friend to you. He always made you feel good about yourself. And that’s something you cherished about him.

“Alright. One shot.”

“You won’t regret it, babe…probably.” You shook your head at him. The two of you stared in each other’s eyes. Then flickered to your guy’s lips. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Remember I’m moving as slow as a turtle for you.”

You laughed slightly. Instead of answering him, you kissed him. Johnny kissed back, placing his hand at the back of your neck.

The kiss was passionate. Like you two were starving for each other. Of course, Johnny was the best kisser you’d ever had but you would never admit that to him. It would only inflate his ego more.

The kiss started to get heated. Your hand felt up on his chest and your lips went to his neck to kiss on it.

Johnny moaned at the kisses on his neck before snapping himself out of it. He pulled away and stood up from the bed. “Nope.” You looked at him offended. “Promised you slow and that’s what you’re gonna get.”

Wow, he was actually taking this slow thing seriously. “Well, can I sleep in the same bed as you or is that going too fast for you, Cage?”

“Nah. That’s perfect speed.” Johnny helped you stand up from the bed. “Just don’t do no funny business because I’m already hard-“

You didn’t believe him but you looked down and he was in fact, hard. You gasped out in surprise and slapped his chest. “Johnny!”

“What? You’re the one making out with me and giving me neck kisses.”

You shook your head slightly and went with him to his bedroom. Guess you and Johnny were gonna try this out.

“Did I ever tell you how amazing your ass looked in those shorts?”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

[chronically-ghosted]

in another life . . .

rating: explicit, 18+

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 7K

summary: Partner. That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. And then he met you and the definition changed again.

warnings: domestic!frankie, marriage kink (if that’s a thing), oral (f receiving) but i think that’s an expectation from every frankie fic, improper use of a kitchen table, unprotected piv, no use of y/n, brief mentions of PTSD, improper use of Spanish, eating in bed 

a/n: requested for my 100 followers event! Anon: hiiii firstly! congrats on the big one hundo you totally deserve it 🥂‼️ secondly wondering if I could rq a Pedro boy drabble with prompt number 12... I wanna do laundry for Frankie Morales :D “did you just wash these sheets?” “I did.” “they smell nice. and they’re still warm.”

🤍Masterlist

. . . I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

Frankie fills the silence of the house without you in it with music. This house, it had been your choice, even though he never expressly made you choose, or even presented the dichotomy. This house, with its leaky faucet and janky AC unit and finicky pilot light, was what you wanted instead of a diamond ring, and so he gave it to you. First down payment, along with every other red cent you and he had both saved up, went into buying your first home together. This wasn’t forever, you both agreed (with only two bedrooms it wasn’t enough room for a baby, he often thought) but even as the real estate agent glanced around with disdain for the house and your budget, one look from you and it was settled. 

“It has good bones,” you said, standing out on the concrete deck overlooking a postage-stamp-sized backyard. There were weeds in the corners and holes from some unknown animal but he could see the wheels in your head turning, imagining how you, like everything else you did, planned to tackle and wrestle control over it with your bare hands. “It needs work, but I think there’s something special here.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, threading his fingers through yours, the real estate agent no doubt off somewhere inspecting the drains. “Is there something here?”

You grinned and shoved your nose then a soft press of your lips into his denim-shoulder. 

“I’m sure of it.”

All his life, Frankie worked best in a unit. As children, his older brother, his younger brother, and him were practically inseparable, their physical similarities almost presenting as the same person but at different ages, and when that group disbanded because Oscar left for college, he went on to find another one. First, his army unit, then the boys. His boys. Left to his own devices, Frankie was terrible at remembering to eat, sleep regularly – focus on anything other than fixing cars and planes, really – but he’d do it for them. He hated to see that worried crease show up on Will’s brow when Frankie admitted he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He hated that Benny had to show up at his apartment to drag his ass outta bed to get him into the sunlight. And he hated when Pope felt obligated to take him out to bars to try and meet women.

“I’m not dating someone just so they can be my mother,” Frankie muttered into the lip of his beer bottle. “I don’t need anyone thinking I need to rely on them like that.” 

“Yeah, but you do better when you have people relying on you.” Pope’s dark eyes flitted from a woman at the bar top to him, with intention and full of force. “And I’m not saying I’m trying to get you to fuck your mother, but you need a partner.” 

Partner. 

That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. 

And then he met you and the definition changed again. 

You are his best friend. You are the woman he wants to fuck every day for the rest of his life. You are the first person he wants to tell good news to and the first person he wants to talk to when he’s had a shitty day. Your voice quiets something inside him that has been far too loud for far too long. You are a relief and a refuge. For all his faults, you love him and sometimes he can’t fathom why. 

You are his partner – in life, in marriage (one day), and forever (he hopes).

“I might not always like you, Catfish,” you said to him in Will’s backyard for Benny’s birthday party. You had been drinking and every sip seems to bring you closer and closer to him. With your face tucked up into his neck, arms up under his flannel and hugging his waist, the only way he could be physically closer to you was if he was inside you – which he was about two seconds away from suggestion when you leaned in close. “‘M not always going to like you, but ‘m always going love you.”

And love him you did. You loved him when he decided to go back to school to get some additional certifications so he could maybe teach flight school. The army would pay for most of it, was a fucking relief to your shared thread-bare, cartoon-spider-web empty savings account. But what the army would not pay for was for you to go to nursing school. You worked in hotels for the events services branch, coordinating everything from weddings to conferences, walking (mostly running) from one end of the hotel to the next. Your sister got you a Fitbit for Christmas one year and after the holiday rush, you walked twenty miles in two days. 

“After that, this nursing stuff should be a breeze,” you said flippantly as you signed your paperwork for admissions. 

Of course you got accepted at one of the better hospitals in the city – he never doubted for a second you would – and as the fresh-faced trainee, you got stuck with most of the night shifts. 

Which meant his days looked a lot like this: wake up at 6AM, drive an hour to the helicopter tour building on the coast, fly rich idiots around all day, eat the lunch you had prepped for the both of you on Sunday night, continue flying rich idiots around, drive home in two-hour traffic, change into his work overalls, go work on some cars Benny’s buddy had at the local garage for some extra cash, then go home, heat up dinner you also made Sunday night, and then attend to the most pressing thing you or the house needed. 

Which could be:

Fixing the AC unit, resealing the back door so it would close properly, re-caulking the shower, building more attic space, repainting the back fence, or replacing the hand towel holder.

Frankie didn’t mind the hard work. It kept his mind and his hands busy. What he did mind was the house silent and eerily empty without you here. 

He didn’t mind the hard work because even for a few hours, he got to hold you while you slept. He got to eat with you at 10:30 at night and it was the highlight of his day.

Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging

Sicker than the rest, there is no test, but this is what you're craving?

Frankie bobs his head, his earphones carefully tucked up under his shirt to prevent the laundry from tangling up in them. He hauls out the latest load and moves onto the washer, fishing out one more sock when suddenly the lights go off. All of them. Total darkness.

And then light and he’s staring down the bottom of the drum.

Then dark. And light.

You. Your code. One you designed when you read that PTSD victims are often triggered into a fight-or-flight response when startled. You, who knew before he did, how to manage the symptoms, create workarounds, and find a pathway through, instead of not at all. 

He takes out one of the earbuds and smiles.

“Hey, you’re home.” 

You lean against the doorway, smiling that smile that is reserved for him and him alone. Sometimes he’s selfish and wants everything of yours to be only for him – all your smiles, your laughter, your sighs – but that’s like trying to capture sunlight in a butterfly net: too focused on the impossible and you end up missing the daytime. 

“How goes this fucking Sysphian task?” You nod at the baskets of laundry at his feet, referring to how you’d often rant and rave about how laundry, the dishes, and grocery shopping were never tasks that could simply be done. He knows how much you hate being unable to cross things off your to-do lists, so he holds your hand during all of these rantings and kisses your knuckles when you take a breath. 

“Good,” he shrugs. “‘Bout to fold your scrubs for tomorrow.”

“Ah, have I told you lately that I love you?” You swing into the room and kiss him on his cheek, on the division where his patchy beard meets his skin – the place that you most often claimed on him. Your fingers squeeze around his bicep as you pull away and your eyes fall to the basket behind him. You gasp with glee. 

“Did you just wash these sheets?” You ask like you’d just uncovered buried gold. 

He smirks, propping his hip up against the dryer. “I did.” 

Without another word, you scoop them up in your arms and inhale sharply.

“Mhmm, they smell nice.” You bury your head in deep. “And they’re still warm.”

In the rare moments when you’re both home and going through laundry together, he never fails to scoop up a load of hot towels and dump them over your head, relishing in the girlish giggle from beneath the clean laundry. “It’s so toasty,” you whimper with glee. 

“They’re not gonna be if you get your hospital gunk all over them,” Frankie tuts, going back to add a new load into the washer as you glare at him over the lump of sheets. 

“Ha, ha. Move over, Mr. Morales, and watch a master at work.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Morales.” It’s stupid but his heart always fumbles when he calls you that. It started as a joke, one that you initiated, but now it’s like berry jam on his tongue, sweet and sugary. He’s thought about calling you that while he’s inside you but figures he should save something for the wedding night. 

He sidles back, giving you space near the dryer as you pick up a basket of t-shirts.

“You know there’s dinner waiting for you in the kitchen.” He shakes his head as you begin to fold the shirts with lightning speed and precision – a side effect of being the oldest daughter in a family of five kids. 

“Yeah, but you’re in here,” you say and bump his hip. He bumps you back and helps with the load. “Besides, it’ll get done faster with two people.”

He can’t exactly argue with that, so he lets the silence grow. But it’s not silence, not really. In the distance, dogs bark. Outside the room, the temperamental AC grumbles, a sound he never thought he’d come to appreciate. Inside the room, fingers tug at fabric, the soft thump as the shirts grow into a continuous pile. Then there’s you, breathing in the lilac-scented air, the scent of his deodorant and sweat and something entirely unique to him– his Frankie-ness as you’ve called it many times without elaborating. I’d bottle it if I could, you told him, bathe in it. You’re kinda weird, he told you, and you know he likes it. 

Every once in a while, his elbow brushes up against yours, yours skirting around his, but never colliding, an awareness of the other always present and attended to, a flow of familiarity and recognition he’s never felt before or known since. 

Bit by bit, you’ve taken pieces of him into you, picked them up, held them to the light and found them beautiful, until a second bit of his soul lives outside of his body. He knows every inch of you, how every atom calls out to him, begs to be close to him, and held tight. It’s not sunlight he’s trying to keep safe, it’s your heart. Your precious, wonderful heart that is somehow so full, it was enough to fill him up too. Gold filling in the cracks. 

Kintsugi, Benny called it, when he got obsessed with anime for three months that one time two years ago. Frankie never could remember the actual name, and maybe that wasn’t the point and maybe it was a little ridiculous, especially when it was explained by a deliriously drunk and bleary-eyed Ben Miller at one in the morning on his brother’s lawn chair. 

Maybe a better way of thinking about it was how separate, disparate, jagged and raw edges came to fit together. How someone like him got a do-over, another chance to be remade in the kiln, and how someone like you was allowed to love unselfishly, to ask for things and never be threatened with reparations of some kind – as if loving you deserved some sort of compensation. 

Pieces, broken and scattered – he looked up and saw you carrying yours, and you witnessed the scars and blood dripping from the shards of his own past, his life, his love, and despite how slippery his pieces were, how dried and empty and wanting yours were, something pulled them together and made them stay. 

Something stronger than light.

Stronger than gold. 

You shook his hand and looked at what you built together, the pieces that came together, and in the end, that was your partnership. A creation of something greater – home, family, love. 

So much fucking love.

In the end, Frankie Morales used love to build his life, not death, and you’re the one who gave it to him.

He drops the last shirt on the stack and he turns, his fingers seeking the drawstring of your pants. 

You know what he wants. You want it too. A singular desire in two separate bodies.

The inherent closeness of domesticity draws you into him, closing the already limited space as hands find waists and lips find skin. He drags his nose against your jaw, somehow already shaking, his teeth grazing your throat, unwilling and unable to press his lips to you, wanting to drag this out as much as possible. He squeezes your hips, thumbs flipping under your shirt to touch, touch, touch, until his fingers wrap around your ribs and you make your first sound of the night. It snags at his restraint, pulling it threadbare. 

“Frankie,” you sigh and he cannot fight the cataclysmic pull towards you – he stumbles, pinning you to the laundry room wall, his tongue cupping your earlobe into his mouth and he sucks. The next noise you make is high and keening and it turns his touch frantic.

Caught between the wall and his broad shoulders, he does with you what he wants. He nips at your cheek, your neck, the dip of your clavicle, as his thumb presses up each knot of your spine, drawing out the tension from your body like draining poisoned blood, and by the time he pinches off your bra, you’re all but hanging onto him. 

“Baby–,” 

He can hear you say, it’s late, we have work in the morning, you don’t have to do this,

I’m not worth this 

With a low growl that is all possession, all anger that someone ever made you feel like your love was too much, he tugs your shirt off, knocking his hat off as he goes. In the drift, he sees your eyes flutter, mouth twisted in pleasure and guilt – you don’t want to be asking for things like this – and so he silences every doubt, every worry that he’s tired or it’s too late or his knees are aching too much to make you feel the way you deserve – he kisses you with enough force to knock out every unpleasant thought you’ve ever had about yourself and flattens you against the wall. 

You let him pry you open, his touch fervent and insistent, tasting of iced coffee and gum. He licks into you, telling you things with his tongue, the way he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, in the soft puff of breath that escapes him when you cup the back of his neck. Closer, he begs, closer. 

His wide palm arching your lower back into him, he squeezes your ribs, up under your breast, before finally taking your nipple between his thumb and the meat of his hand and twists, just enough to make you break apart from his demanding mouth, gasping as if tapped by a live wire. But it’s him who is electrocuted, who catches fire, who wants to be chewed down and swallowed up. He shuffles and pulls you into him, the throbbing in his pants bordering on painful. He rubs himself against you once and you sigh like you know he hurts. You nod.

Your fingers peel your shirt up and over your head as he cups one thigh then the other until your hips hug his waist, smearing the hem of his shirt up over his skin. He feels the heat coming from between your legs, the slight dampness, against his lower belly and he groans, low, right near that source of warmth he wants to die in. 

You curl above him, tipping his head back, as you dive into his mouth again, fingers twisting into his hair, thumbs brushing his temple right where you know he tends to get headaches. Your tongue brushes against his upper lip, tasting his mustache, and his knees threaten to buckle. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he laments, he praises, into the supple wetness of your tongue. You nod, pleased, and press your chest into him. He cannot fucking wait to get his mouth around your tits.

Mouth sealed to yours, hands cupping the meat of your ass, Frankie works entirely on sense memory to carry you into the kitchen, to a long wooden table beneath a wide window, white curtains closed and blinds shut. 

This table had been one of the first purchases for the new house. Tan cedar boards with white knobby legs, it instantly reminded him of the one in his own childhood home, where he and his brothers fought over meals and did homework together. Where he held his mom after his father died and where he dropped his bag after coming home from a life too long spent fighting other people’s wars. 

This table mattered to him and he’d be damned if it wouldn’t mean something to his own child one day. 

That was something you too wanted to give your child, never having a table like this in your own life. You loved the stories he told about the table in his kitchen. How much it meant to him.

And now he was going to fuck you on it, this symbol of stability.

He just wonders how stable it really is. 

His fingers clutching the back of your neck, arm running in tandem with your spine, he lowers you down, shifting your weight onto his arm so you don’t bump your head against the wood. He releases you but you protest, a muffled uh-uh, as he tries retreating. You loop your arms around his neck, tugging him flat against you and he feels your breasts mold against his chest, nipples already tight.

“Baby,” he breathes, sucking up and out of your mouth, “let me make you feel good.”

Behind him, he hears your sneakers clatter to the floor, your heels digging into his back as you toe off your shoes, and you shake your head. 

“I am.” Kiss. A thumb under his bottom lip. “You do.” Breathless, reverent, grateful. 

Grateful.

Grateful that he is kissing you. 

Not good enough. God, he’s going to eat that self-loathing right out of you. 

You whine, frustrated and hot, as he pulls back. He wants to go right for your pussy, but stutters at the sight of your unmarked tits. Smooth, flushed, heaving. There is no part of you he does not love, does not feel the need to worship on his knees. 

But suddenly sour shame strikes him as he realizes enough time has passed since the last time you’d had sex for the hickeys to heal. He intends to amend that right now. 

His thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips, to calm himself, he folds himself over you, dribbling kisses along your throat, over the wings of your clavicle, at the barest incline at the top of your breast, and then to the meat of your tit, the heaviness, the sway, and he bites down. Predictably, you yelp, nails scratching roughly into his scalp and that only makes him suck harder. You have very strict rules around where he can mark you, but on the places he can – oh, you beg him for it. 

He palms your other tit, just to feel the goosebumps break out across your skin, to roll your nipple with the calluses on his palm. His teeth release, his tongue laving over that already pink and swollen skin, and he glances up, his other thumb coming to massage that fragile patch. 

Being a pilot, a soldier, a brother, a son, those are the things he is. But Frankie lives – aches, pines, desires – to watch you come apart. 

The purple bruise on your tit shining like a luxurious necklace, your eyes flutter open when you feel him pull up. Your fingers around his ears, your chest wet with his spit, you let him take you in. You give him this, because you know you’re about to get so much more. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, he can feel the soft cant of your hips, the quiet, patient begging, as you thought he needed reminding that you needed this. You rub up him, knees pinned to his ribs, and he lets you pull him into your mouth, grounding him. This kiss is brief, soft, a far cry from the tearing and biting that got you onto the table. Knowing exactly the state you need to be in to ask for what you want, he holds your jaw, thumb against the apple of your cheek and he slips his tongue out of your mouth. Again a protest, an instinctual reaction to the repeated pattern of abandonment, but like all cries for help, he quiets your squirming by sliding his thumb between your lips. 

“Suck,” he murmurs gently. Your eyes flutter shut, your nails carving half moons into his forearm, lips creating a vacuum seal around his knuckle and you obey – you suck – and he rewards you with a trail of kisses across your sternum, over your breasts, to the soft swell of your stomach. He nuzzles your belly button and you groan, eyes still shut and his thumb still in your mouth. He bites, softer than before, just above the thatch of hair and you whine around his finger, body going supple for him. He slides his thumb out, dragging a shiny string of spit over your plush lips, down your chin, joining his other hand at the waist band of both your panties and your scrubs. 

Any fast movement will awaken that anxious, overthinking, beautiful brain of yours, now that he has it fuzzy and unfocused, so he keeps kissing, keeps sucking and biting, that spot just above your curls. He tongues your hip, and then the other side, your bottom half wonderfully bare before you can open your eyes. 

His shoulder bumps the back of your thigh as he stands up right, inhaling the sweat behind your knee, the pungent tang of your glistening curls, your almond butter body lotion. It’s hunger, he feels, but not a tangible hunger, one that can be so easily satiated. It’s not painful, or weakening – no, he is made stronger by it. He feels your blood pulse beneath his hand on your inner thigh as he opens you up and he’s made better by it. 

He kneels, a holy servant before the divine meal of their goddess, on shitty linoleum beneath harsh lights in a kitchen he can barely afford. 

Frankie takes your hand, kisses your knuckles, and slides your grip into his hair. 

“Recuérdame cómo te gusta, nena.” 

He eats. He consumes. He licks. He sucks. He slurps.

He tastes your dripping wetness on the seam of your cunt, before his tongue ever gets the chance to explore, to open, to divulge. He licks until he feels your breath hitch – a curse in the shape of his name, as if he needs scolding for making you feel so good – and then he opens his jaw and tongues your hole. 

In a lust-drunk haze you once told him he has something better than DSL – he has a pussy-eating nose. He prods you with that nose you can’t seem to get enough of, licking in as far as he can, coating himself in everything as it leaks out of you, and he moans as he can feel it on his chin. You vibrate with the sound and above him, your fingers clench down into his hair. 

“Oh, fuck, holy – fuck, Frankie–,” your trembling shakes the bowl of your hips, spilling his meal, so he sucks your clit in a way that makes your body freeze and then melt. You go limp, pliable, and gushing. He gets a few more moments of twisting and sucking and swallowing, until by the third time he puts his lips around your clit, you open-mouth whine and it’s like his body violently remembers he has a cock. He is seized with such a need to fuck you in this warm, wet place he’s dug out with his tongue, he doubles over and rests his teeth against your thigh. 

“Frankie, I’m so close,” you writhe, chest flushed and brow sweaty. 

Before you, he never knew sex could feel like this, could do this. Sure, he used sex to keep away those circling, vulture-like thoughts from time to time. But this, this drawing out and unthreading, unspooling, of himself and someone else, tearing at ego-drenched threads until all that was left was a being of pure want and desire – he didn’t know this was possible. 

He didn’t know he could feel like this.

One more broad lick, coating everything in what he hope fucking smells like him, and you arch, thighs shaking, his hair in danger of being ripped from his scalp. You gasp as you flatten, the first orgasm of the night rolling through you, sweat making your skin salty, as though you had been breached by the ocean. 

He laps you through it, of course, a nascent smirk on his face. 

You open your eyes to this self-satisfied Frankie, eyes only visible over the top of your cunt, and you whine. 

You reach for him and he goes, smearing your slick over your face, offering it to you in supplication on his tongue. He tastes your rising desperation, the way you sharpen your teeth against his lips, batter his tongue into the corner of his mouth, try to claim what your cunt already has. His hunger is an infection and your fever has reached a boiling point. 

Your trembling fingers curl his shirt up his back, passing over the ruddy scar on his shoulder where he got hit with a stray bullet, the jagged white line over his ribs where a knife nearly split him open. He used to only fuck with his shirt on. He doesn’t now. 

His shirt crumples to the floor as he sits up, you following, eyes dark, and you bite his pec muscle, your love for him twisting you into an anthropophagist. You want to consume him, like your pussy swallows his cock. Having him impale you is not enough; you want intercourse with him on a subatomic level. 

You inch back to give yourself enough space to unbutton his jeans and he sees the wet slick left behind on the table. The heat behind his groin shoots up his spine and he grunts, burying his face into your neck where he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth, hands planted on either side of you.

“Hurry, baby, I gotta fuck this pussy,” he whispers against the curve of your jaw. He wants to leave a giant purple bruise there, this instinct to claim, to mark, stoking the roiling heat at the base of his spine and drawing up his balls. 

But his attention snaps back to your hands when he hears a click, the release of his zipper is almost euphoric. He moans in relief, unable to see through his half-lidded eyes the explosion of goosebumps over your skin as his breath tumbles over your back and down your chest. 

His urgent hands overwhelm yours, one pushing his jeans down his hips, the other palming your stomach, pushing you back and you go willingly, but seemingly mesmerized by the sight of his aching, flushed cock springing up against his stomach. You lie down, but only barely, still on your elbows, as he tugs you by your ankles to the edge of the table. 

Your uneven breathing could mean a lot of things. He thought you were being complementary the first time you told him he was too big, but your eyes always widened at the sight of his cock. 

“Do you need to be opened up some more, cariño?” 

At his rawest, Spanish came out of him like a spilled bottle of molasses, sweet, slow, rich. 

“Hmm? Tell me what you need. Hable mas alto por favor.” He rubs your knees, your thighs, hoping you’ll ask for what he wants.

“F-fingers, Frankie,” you swallow, eyes still latched on to his now weeping cock. You glance up at him, face open and full of trust, and he feels his dick pulse. “Please, Frankie, put your fingers in me.” 

“Fucking anything.” He plants one hand and cups your mound, lost for a moment in the soaked curls, before pushing two fingers inside and thrusting. “I’ll fucking give you anything you want.” 

His hips jerking slightly in tandem with the pulse of his fingers, his slacked mouth an indication of how unconscious his humping has become, as he watches you dissolve with every stroke of his hand. God, he didn’t know they made things this pretty. His hand pushes your knee up and back, finding room for three fingers and your eyes roll back in your head. You scrabble for anything to hold onto, fingers searching for the ghosts of your bedsheets, but finding none, your arms curl over your head and latch onto the other edge of the table. You present your fucking tits to him like you’re letting him admire artwork. 

It almost brings him to his knees.

“Oh, I’m coming, oh, Frankie, I’m gonna –,”

He pulls out his fingers just enough to let you gush down his palm, his wrist, and he licks it up like a glutton. It drips a bit onto the linoleum and he smears it with his bare feet.

Frankie slides two fingers back in, his brain going fuzzy at being away from the clutch of your cunt for too long, when you grab his wrist. 

You can barely breathe, your skin a pale pink, your cunt no doubt must be sore, but your eyes are as hard as diamonds in your skull. He swallows the flush of spit in his mouth.  

“Now, Frankie,” you plead, fingers tight around his wet wrist, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound of your commanding voice. “Fuck me, now, I need you inside of me.”

It always makes him a bit dumbstruck, the way you beg, the way you let him and only him see this side of you – this side of you that is sick with wanting.

His hand squeezes the base of his cock once, eyes fluttering, to remind himself he cannot blow his fucking load the instant the tip of him is inside you. He taps your clit, once, twice, lubing himself up as if he hadn’t moved around internal organs to make way for himself. He notches, then slides, white-knuckling his impending orgasm in favor of making this good for you. He steps farther between your legs, hands sliding from your thighs, up to your waist. He thumbs your nipple and your pussy twitches around him. He swears his heart flat out stops for a concerning length of time.

“How is a pussy this good all mine? All fucking mine?” He rolls his hips, pushing deeper, movements marionetted by the high-pitched whimpers and moans of your mouth. He could catalog every single one of them, has done so in the deep recesses of his brain, and it takes just a second to know when it switches from pleasure to pain. 

He bends over you, you choking on his dick, and kisses you hard, shattering the tense look on your face.  

“I love you,” he tells you, a secret that despite being well-known to anyone who sees him look at you, still feels precious and fragile. His hand plasters your hair to your sweaty neck as he kisses you desperately, speaking a language only you understand. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You sigh into his open mouth. “I wanna marry you, Fransisco Morales.” 

He is covered in gold. Dripping with it. 

His nails at your hip dig into your skin and you know exactly what you’ve done. 

“Say it. Say it louder, nena,” he snarls, face pressed into your cheek, and he thrusts forward with enough force to rock the table. The table legs squeak as you pin him to you one more time and nip at his ear. The last drop in the well, the rope slipping over the edge, the coil locked into place.

“I wanna fucking marry you.” 

With a breathy grunt, he yanks you down onto his cock by your waist and slaps your ass with his balls. It’s been a while since your cunt has taken a beating like this. You clutch at the edge of the table again, mouth torn open.

He knows you like it when he plays with your clit, and he will, but he needs to get this out of him. 

“Yeah? You’re gonna marry the guy who’s fucking your pussy so good right now?” It’s amazing that words escape at all through his gritted teeth, jaw taut. He watches as he disappears and reappears in you, your lips puffy and pink already but he needs more. He doesn’t want you to be able to walk out of bed tomorrow. 

“Yes, Frankie – oh, god, there, right there – yes, I’m gonna marry you.” He tips your hips up as he pounds down and you arch, crying out at the angle, the depth, how full you feel. He fucks like he’s trying to bruise your ribcage through your pussy. 

The thoughts in his head collide with the others, knotting together, blurring, until the only noise he can make, the only thing he can verbalize is the tight grunts, the hm, hm, hm, as he focuses on chasing this fire. 

He feels it approach so fast, he’s nearly taken under by the intensity of his orgasm so he slows, grinds instead, and with his eyes on your face, he cups himself around where he’s split you open, feeling your lips suck in and out with every thrust. 

He closes his eyes briefly, helpless against the waves of arousal that coat his fingers. He smears your clit with his thumb and his name is a split, jagged thing that burns your tongue. He wants that taste on his tongue again. 

You throb once, a sharp climax warming your pussy, and he backs out, drops to his knees, and licks you up again. He can taste his sweat there this time and he groans. His hands slip over your skin from the sweat in the crease of your thigh.

The cries from your mouth are wet now, on the curve of a salty tongue. You tremble like your orgasm is a physical thing, thrumming under your skin, warming your blood and you claw at his forearm. 

“B-baby, please–,” 

Wiping his mouth on your inner thigh, then licking up the mess he made, Frankie stands. He swats your bottom lightly, tutting. He’s a mad man, he knows it, he can’t tell if it's delirium from the rough ache of his balls or masochistic joy in hearing you beg, but again he rubs himself through your folds. It’s not the same, not nearly enough, but it helps last just a bit longer. 

“No crying until after I’ve made you come.” 

“I’ve already come twice,” you whine as you buck your hips, trying to take him in deeper. “You said I can have anything I want.” 

“And what does princesa want?” Yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with him. 

Your eyes flash as your nails dig into his shoulders, that fire he so loves to stoke flaring out.

“I want to come on your cock, Mr. Morales.”

And he unravels, divinity calling his name. 

His pace is slow, then rough, then deep. 

The table is just the right height. He balances on knee on the lip, bending your knees over his shoulders, and fucking down into you. He’s going to snap you in fucking half and maybe he does but he’ll be there to seal you back up again. 

Pour himself into you. Fill you. Make you whole once more. 

Baby, please.

The first drip of tears starts out the corner of your eyes as you come, open-mouthed, throat exposed, a cry loud and in the shape of his name tearing from your lips, your body locking up, cunt squeezing him until he feels himself burst. 

With a shudder and a groan, he spills, hot and flush into you. He comes, and comes, and comes, until his gooey spend is forced out of you and down the crack of your ass. He can’t see anything past the white spark in his eyes, feel anything but you and the tingle of his limbs. 

The excess of you and him is everywhere, leaking out onto the kitchen table, soaking the wood. There’s a ringing in his ears he can’t quiet. 

Your breath is hot on his neck, sweaty skin stuck tightly against his, he knows he’s crushing you, his arms given out at some point, but he really doesn’t think he can stand up right. He kisses your cheek by way of apology and thanks but you don’t seem to mind, your own gaze unfocused on the ceiling. 

“Fuck, Frankie . . .”

He laughs, realizes his legs aren’t working, so trembling and uneasy, he slides out of you and manages to make it to the floor. He blames the sudden dizziness on a lack of food and then blames the dizziness for lying down on the floor. 

His eyes flutter and somehow you’re suddenly curled up next to him, your palm resting over his pounding heart. His fingers find their way up into your sweat-damp hair, thumb gently rubbing against the knot at the base of your skull. 

“Your back is gonna be killing you in about fifteen minutes, sweetheart,” you grumble sleepily into his chest, a grin on your face. 

“I can’t feel anything below my waist right now.” He yawns. “So, we’ve got some time.” 

You nod, absentmindedly stroking the dark hair on his chest. 

“We need to talk about Pope’s birthday party this weekend. Will put us on drink duty . . . but I can’t really focus on anything right now.”

“Good,” he smirks with his eyes shut. “That was some of my best work.” And then he frowns. “You need to eat.” He pokes your side and you huff.

“Okay, if you’re awake enough to berate me, we can at least go to bed.” 

Groaning, you pull him up and he threatens to stumble you both into the wall, but he kisses your cheek and swats your ass, before snagging a tub of ice cream and a spoon. He meets you in the bedroom with the cap off and a smear of chocolate around his lips. 

You’ve got one of his shirts, grinning up at him from the center of the bed, and he’s torn about whether he likes you in his boxers, or nothing at all. 

You take the ice cream from him before he has a chance to flop down on the bed. 

“Not exactly a nutritious meal,” you mutter around the spoon and he turns his face from the pillow to glare at you. 

“That’s the other dinner I made for you, so eat.” 

Your giggle is all you can give to show your thanks.

He rolls onto his back, groaning theatrically, before tucking his hand behind his head, and his fingers coming to rest on his stomach. 

Behind the lids of his eyes, he can feel you watching him.

“What?” He grumbles, feeling around for your foot to pinch your ankle. He hears you move so he knows he’s close. “Not the right flavor, princesa?”

“No,” you laugh and prod his hip with your toe. “It’s just . . .”

His eyes open, finding yours in the half-lit gloom. You’re grinning the spoon in your mouth, eyes bright with something unnameable. You shrug, eying his hand between you both.

“I just never knew Fransisco Morales could be domesticated.” 

He wipes the chocolate off your chin with his thumb.

Yeah, who knew?

[ncteez]

Unlikely Scenario (k.m)

You’re in love with the way your boyfriend is nothing but loving and sweet outside of the bedroom. You love even more the way he falls into the persona of a rough and aggressive dominant in the bedroom– but what if you also want to love your boyfriend when he’s the one on his knees?

or the one where you try to push your dominant boyfriend into submission and it’s a struggle. it kind of works, then again, it kind of doesn’t. 

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give mingyu a boner 

minors dni!! 

WORDCOUNT― 6k

PAIRING― mingyu x afab reader 

CONTENT― established relationship, submissive girlfriend trying to pull the whole “oh how the tables have tabled” on her dominant boyfriend

WARNINGS ― its mingyu so there’s some mentions to how huge this big ass bitch is compared to you (size kink in the form of height). If that pulls you out of the story, i’m sorry. 

NOTE― ok so this started as something, then as i wrote it..it became something else. yikes. anyway, i need him so bad u don’t understand.  this fic is dedicated to me because I deserve it. also, i cannot even see straight after writing this, can’t believe i did this in a mere two hour time frame…jfc.  not proof read

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICK MINGYU, pussy eating/face riding, masturbation, whining and whimpering, hair pulling, begging, teasing, cock warming, pussy drunk mingyu, floor sex, sitting on his lap position, crying, unprotected sex, overstimulation, he kind of takes control back but it’s not in a dominant way– it’s more of an im so desperate to fuck you, i can’t stop.

~

There are days where you look at your boyfriend and think, yeah, he’s very clearly a soft and adoring man. One who is endearing, with his glistening eyes in the grocery store and tired yawns when he gets home from work. On those days, you find yourself melting into his rough palms, teasing and swaying you further from the release you both needed. 

Then there are days like today, where you look at him and he looks just like he does on any other day, but you want to see those tired droopy eyes glistening in a different way. Shining in the way he makes yours do when he’s hovering over you. Never have you even suggested this to him out of the three years you’ve been dating. You love being manhandled, degraded, teased, and he loved doing it to you. 

The dynamic works perfectly, and of course, it’s not always like this in the bedroom. Sometimes he isn’t too keen on edging you for hours with an evil smirk, sometimes he just wants to love on you and be close to you. 

And on a day like today, you don’t want any of that. You don’t want his fingers prying you open and pressing into you until you’re soaking one smiling boyfriend and probably the wall behind him, no, no. You don’t want to hear the sounds of his palms slapping your skin, or his teeth grazing your most sensitive areas. No! 

You’re so in your head about it today, staring at your boyfriend like an animal hunting for prey. He’s just sitting there, unknowing, giggling at stupid memes the two of you have seen four thousand times by now, a talk show muffled behind his laughs because you’re really more focused on him than anything else. It’s a sunday afternoon after all, and today is the only free day the two of you have when you’re not both exhausted from the week’s events. 

You wonder if he will be into it and if you’ll even have the ability not to melt into his grasp the second he shifts into his dominant self. You wonder more though, what it’ll be like to have this big ass man shivering at every touch you give to him, begging for more, whimpering. 

“Are you just gonna look at memes all day?” You ask, making your way into the living room to claim both the couch and Mingyu as your seat. 

“Probably, why?” He starts, leaning back against the cushions to make room for your legs on his lap. “You wanna do something today?”

“Hm, not really,” You shrug as you get comfortable, reaching an arm up to twirl his messy hair in your fingers. He hasn’t even brushed it today, but you love the way it looks on him. “I just wanted to ask.”

Mingyu turns his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at you with a knowing look. You never act this nonchalant if you don’t want something. You never play with his hair like this unless you’re both cuddled up in bed or you clearly want him to read your mind. 

“What’re you getting at?” He asks in a playful rasp, tilting into the feeling of your fingers in his hair as if he’s a puppy about to start wagging his tail. “You want something, and I’m not about to start making guesses without a hint.”

“You’re right, I do want something.” You smile, tugging slightly at a stand of his hair and looking away from him. “But I’m not gonna tell you what it is. You’ll just have to find out when it happens.”

He huffs in response to that before letting out a breathy chuckle. You wonder if he thinks you’re just trying to be a brat today. Maybe he thinks you’re gonna be annoying so that he will wrestle you down on the bed and put you in your place. That’s not it though. All you need is to get a reaction out of him in order to have him retiring with you to the bedroom sooner rather than later.

~

It didn’t take long to do that, as expected. It’s barely three in the afternoon by the time he’s fighting off a semi-hard on because you won’t stop pressing his buttons. 

From complementing his arms in the most annoying way to “accidentally” grabbing his bulge without warning. You know, the whole blatantly grabbing it then looking him in the eye with a small “Oops, thought it was something else.” 

He gritted his teeth through it for a little while before throwing his own form of teasing back at you. It all came to a sudden stop when he pressed you against the wall, effectively leaving no space for you to run and staring you straight in the eye. “If you want me to fuck you, you can just say that.” 

Of course you could have just said that, but it’s not what you want. You want to fuck him. 

So, now here the two of you are, you’re against the wall and he’s looming over you with all the power in the world. He knows how to end the teasing, he knows how to give you what you’d normally want, but he doesn’t know that maybe you can flip the tables on him.

He’s taken aback when you don’t look away from him, and even more appalled at the smirk you throw his way. Already, that switch in his head went off and you can tell that at any moment he’s going to drag you into the bedroom and give you what he thinks you want. 

“You think you know everything,” You smirk, throwing your hand forward and grabbing his growing length through his loose sweatpants. He winces at the feeling, arching into it almost. “If you want to fuck me, you could just say that.” You continue.

You mimic his words from before, a small power play to assert some type of dominance over him. Even in the position you’re in right now, even if you know all he needs to do is throw his hand around your throat to put an end to your plan, you’re still going to try. 

“Oh?” He quirks his brow, eyes trailing from your eyes to your middle, then back up. “You think I’m that desperate?”

You smile with a short nod, squeezing him in your palm to see if he reacts. He does, but you don’t think he notices. You can see that little curl on his lip twitch, with his confident smile never truly falling. 

“That hurts me,” You fake-whine, now palming him to urge his cock to grow to its full length. “You don’t want me as badly as I want you?”

He pauses, closing one eye as if to think with the correct side of his brain and try to ignore the fact that you always know exactly how to jerk him off. 

“you know that’s not it.” He falters with a gentle voice, giving into your false search of reassurance and once again arching into your hand. 

You can feel the press against your palm, he’s getting there.

“Then why don’t you ever show it?” You press on, prodding his brain to continue to take his dominant confidence down level by level. “I’m always the one having to ask for it.”

Mingyu doesn’t pause this time, his arm at the side of your head lowers to your cheek and caresses you there. 

“I love when you beg for me though,” He starts, leaning in closer to ghost his lips over yours. “You love it too.”

You can practically feel him not back down, even though he clearly isn’t aware of what you’re trying to do here. A wave of confidence flows through you too, and you refuse to back down this time as well. Your hand remains, pumping him through his pants and lurching forward against his lips.

He sighs into it, the hand caressing your cheek goes to the back of your neck as he, as always, dominates the kiss and angles your head in any way he deems fit. 

When you don’t react the way you normally do though, he appears to put even more effort into it. Kissing you in all the ways that would usually make you moan. Until he’s losing breath and trailing down your neck. 

At that point, you slide away from him leaving that small space between him and the wall and abandoning his now fully hard length, pulsing with no friction under his pants.

He stares at you as you back away from him with a smile, motioning for him to follow you. When he does, it’s another small victory in your head. You’re the one leading him this time, he’s the one chasing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks as he follows you through the hallway, already untying the drawstring of his sweats and slipping them off by the time he gets to the door of your shared room. 

You don’t answer, and for some reason that’s got him thinking too hard about what’s happening right now. Never once have you rejected his advances. By now, you’d be grinding against his thigh and taking whatever you can from him against that wall in the other room. Instead, you’re stepping into the bedroom and not removing a single article of clothing.

He watches you with curiosity, scratching the back of his neck before lifting his shirt off of him as well. If he wanted to, he could walk up to you and have you right here right now, but he can admit to being genuinely curious as to what the fuck you’re trying to pull on him today.

“C’mere,” You say, standing against the bed and ignoring the fact that he’s so big. From his biceps to his shoulders, to his cock. 

When he walks up to you, he thinks he’s going to be able to simply press you back to have you falling onto the bed and spreading your legs for him, but he’s shocked when he gets to you and you’re the one managing to spin him around and harshly shove him down on the bed. 

He stares up at you in shock when you straddle him with a smile, and he can’t help but let out a sigh when you plant yourself directly on his length without so much as adjusting it.

“No, really,” He starts with another wince, hands shooting to your waist to stop any looming assumption that you’re about to start grinding against him. “What are you trying to do?”

You laugh, reaching down and pulling his cock into position, flat against his pelvis. You raise the band of his underwear and easily snap it back down onto his length, the head of it peeking out now. He seethes out a pained sound when he feels the snap, his shoulders tensing at it before he looks at you for an answer. 

“I’m trying to see how much you want me.” You say casually, waving your hand as if it’s obvious. “I’d like to know why you’re fighting it. Unless you really don’t want me as much as I want you?”

He furrows his brows at you and swallows around his words. This isn’t what he’s used to, but he does hold a particular type of love when it comes to giving you what you deserve. He thinks briefly back to all of the times you’ve been shaking, begging, and crying to have him. Is that…is that what you’re trying to make him do? 

His face feels hot as a blush creeps up on him. He’s not used to blushing in bed, in fact, the last time he blushed around you was when you had sex for the first time and you both expected the other to be as vanilla as possible. 

“Oh–” Mingyu starts, his hands on your waist gripping a bit harder when you instantly cut off his words with a harsh grind. 

You’re not going to argue about it. You’re going to have him fucking writhing if it’s the last thing you do. You grind harder when he doesn’t react past trying to stop your hips with his grip, still he hasn’t continued his train of thought, so you think you’ve got it in the bag by this point. 

“Jesus,” He groans when you continue even as he tries to stop you. The fabric of his underwear rubs harshly against the underside of his cock so aggressively that it’s starting to burn. “Okay, fuck. Okay.” He tries to get you to relent, but you don’t.

The immediate overstimulation is a lot to take for someone like him. Usually he gives himself just the right amount, never too little, never too much, because usually he’s the one in control. He’s realizing now though, how hard it is to give in to the lack of control. It’s not that he isn’t enjoying it, it’s just that like, you know, he likes overstimulating you. 

“That’s right,” You comment with a smile, sighing out at the feeling of rubbing yourself against his length. “Be quiet unless you don’t want this.”

He is still just staring at you in awe, the searing pain of fabric-rash nearly throwing him over edge and making him want to put a stop to it almost instantly. But then he remembers how often he’s used your clothing against you. Now, looking up at you as you grind against him, he can’t help but think you’ve never looked more sexy than you do right now, using his own tactics against him.

Perched up there, looking down at him with what he assumes is the same type of smirk he gives to you, he gives in easier than he ever expected he would. Already, he finds himself wanting to ask you to take his briefs off, already he wants to feel if you’re wet because of this. Already. Goddamn, that was fast and it’s not looking promising for him. 

“You look like you want to say something,” You say, grinding back and resting your hips for a moment. You don’t spare him though, as you move your hand to resume the stimulation against him. “Go on, tell me what you wanna say.”

He rolls his eyes at you, laughing internally at how good you already seem to be at his job. He doesn’t mind it anymore though, interested in seeing how you intend to go about all of this. Really though, you could have just said “Hey, let me have control this time.” 

But no. He should know you don’t work that way. You never ask for things outside of the bedroom, you simply demand them. He really should’ve known that you’d want to do this at some point.

“Nothing to say?” You ask, pulling off of him and standing to your feet. “I’ll take it that by the look on your face, you know exactly what’s happening?”

He nods, watching you stand and take your own pants off. There, he can already see the wet seeping through your panties. He nearly lets out a groan at it, because you somehow appear to be more wet than usual just by putting him in his place.

“Get up.” You demand, now having him in the head space you want him in. 

He listens without a single protest, scooting forward and standing up in front of you. 

For a moment, when you look up at him, you nearly buckle and want to beg him to take back his control. So tall, so broad. That blown out look in his eye always gets you, but at this moment he’s the one that is waiting for direction and it feels so fucking surreal to have him looming without intent, waiting, anticipating what you’re going to do. It’s intimidating to say the least, but you press on.

“Now–” You pause, swallowing down that last bit of submission in your head and looking up at him. “Get down.”

He skews his head, hooding his eyes as he does just that. Slowly but surely lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. 

You look down at him this time, feeling much more confident when you see him like this rather than him towering over you. The confidence comes right back as you shuffle closer to him. He scoots back as you get closer, up until his feet are nearly under the bed and his back is against it. 

Somehow, he looks obedient down there. You’ve never seen him look like this, with his eyes staring up at you, hair in his face and eyes sparkling much like they do when he tries to find the perfect tomato to buy and bring home. 

Mingyu opts to stay silent for now, watching and waiting to see how you plan to take what you want. But that silence is short lived when you lift your leg onto the bed and hover your clothed pussy in front of his face.

Already he’s reaching out with a proud moan and trying to grip your ass to pull you against his face, but you resist the pull. 

“Hands to yourself,” you chuckle out, swirling your hips in front of his face. “I’ll tell you when you can touch it.”

He nearly groans in protest, but doesn’t. He lowers his hands and watches you dance what he wants in front of him. Honestly, he can smell your arousal and it’s already driving him insane. 

“Is this what you want?” You ask him, pulling at your panties until they shift between your folds, exposing all but your entrance and clit to him. 

Mingyu can barely respond, suddenly spiraling into a world of arousal at the way you dangle yourself in front of him. He swallows hard around a lump in his throat, tongue falling out of his mouth for you to sit on without so much as an ounce of shame. 

“Hm?” You urge out an answer when you reach down to grab his hair and force his eyes up to you rather than your pussy. 

His whispered “yes” comes out in a rasp after he pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and while you wanted a please at the end of his admittance, you take what you can get. 

You adjust your panties back to their rightful position before sitting the expanse of your pussy against his chin while keeping his head tilted back by the hair. He nuzzles slightly, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of you like the animal that he is. 

“You act desperate to taste but you aren’t admitting it.” You laugh, guiding his head against your panties and fawning over the way he presses his nose into it without shame. 

Mingyu admits it with his tongue falling back out of his mouth again. Flattening it against the wet fabric and not moving it even an inch just to taste the stale arousal you managed to gather for him to swallow up. 

The warmth of his tongue is enough to have you gripping his hair again, pulling his head back and away from your core just to look at him. His dominant tongue strains to reach out and continue tasting you though, to the point that it’s almost embarrassing to see him act like this. 

“God, I didn’t think you could be so pathetic so fast,” You comment, pressing him back to your core and grinding up against his tongue. 

You can feel him flex the muscle, stiffening it to press the seat of your panties into your pulsing hole, and releasing a small moan at the way your leg shakes a bit at it. Even when he’s down here, face full of pussy, you’re still reacting like you would if he were the one in control. He might love it a bit too much. Even if he looks pathetic down here, he’s only pathetic for this pussy. 

“Mhm,” he hums against you, leaning more into the pussy in front of him rather than the harsh grip your hands have in his hair. “If you’d just let me–” 

You’re taken aback when he goes against your demands of keeping his hands to himself. You can feel one of his hands shoot to your ass and press you more against his mouth, and his other hand hooking your panties to the side. 

Barely able to react before a moan leaves your lips, he buries his tongue into your with a pointed hum against you. You can feel the vibrations flow through you to the point that you can’t help but grind. Fucking yourself against his tongue and then pulling back in a way to swirl your clit around the muscle.

His remains focused on the act as he closes his eyes. He even finds himself satisfied by the way you move on him that he releases the grip on your ass, trusting you to take what you need from him yourself, and instantly shoots that same hand between his legs. Not offering too much to himself, but enough to have him moaning the way you clearly want him to.

That, he does. Pressing his palm against his cock and furrowing his brows as his tongue tastes and licks up every inch of you. The way you grind is heavenly and the way your fingers tug at his hair only heightens the pleasure for him when he finally groans into you. 

The sound alone is enough to have you grinding harder, your thrusts becoming shorter just to feel his tongue repeatedly hit the same spot on your clit as you do it. You can see his lips curl into a smile around his tongue and you roll your eyes at the image of his unwavering confidence. Trying still to dominate even while on his knees.

That’s when you take note of his moving shoulder, hidden from under your hiked up leg. 

“So that’s why you seem so content,” You comment, halting your grinds. “Focus on me, get your hand off of your dick.”

His eyes shoot open, realizing he’s been caught and instantly follows your demands. He follows them so much actually, that he does focus entirely on you. Your voice speaking to him that way, denying him of his own pleasure? Fucking amazing, that’s what you are. 

Both hands shoot back to your ass as he practically hugs you in order to plant your pussy directly back onto his face. And just like that, he willingly and intentionally smothers himself in your scent. He easily nuzzles his nose against your clit while swirling his tongue around your hole, poking and prodding it while holding your hips in place. 

He can feel your hands in his hair grip tighter, and then your legs shake and you try to pull away. But no, not this time. He will let you take control after this. He promises himself, and promises you with a desperate moan to keep you planted on him. 

The moan wasn’t an act, he actually is desperate to get you to come this way, nearly purring into you when he pulls his head back just a bit to lick up and down your slit at an aggressive and animalistic pace. 

“Taste so good,” He groans, allowing himself to spiral as he laps away at you. “More.”

You’ve gone silent save from constant sighs of pleasure and hums. More? He wants more?

Already loving the way he manages to still be dominant while on his knees, you do the opposite to gain control again. You can tell he’s incredibly turned on, so now is the perfect time to pull that control back. You slide off of his face, pulling your leg back and watching the whole time as his mouth manages to chase the taste of you until he no longer can.

You study him, his cock leaking against the band of his briefs and his lips wet and glistening. He looks back at you with a look of…anger, maybe? You chuckle at it before lifting your shirt off of you and letting your breasts spring free.

“You were so close to begging,” You coo at him, stepping forward and falling to your knees in front of him, almost mimicking his own pose. Still, he towers over you like this, but you make a point to make him smaller than he is when you push his head down to your chest. “What a cutie.”

For some reason, he loves that compliment so fucking much in this moment with you. He strains his body to suck against one of your nipples, humming at the compliment and wanting nothing more than to hear you praise him now rather than beg him. Never did he think this would be something he’s into, but damn. 

You sense that he likes it with the way he moves his tongue on your chest, he always speeds up his actions when you do something he likes. Usually it’s when you start to cry, or whimper, or choke– but this time it’s because you called him cute. 

Taking note of that, you hold his head against your chest as you allow yourself to feel his tongue abuse your nipple briefly. Then you’re throwing yourself back into action by scooting back and away from him before tapping at his legs. “Take these off, and sit properly.”

He listens, in a daze of wanting nothing more than to have you back in his mouth in whatever way you deem fit. 

You’re pleased by his obedience when he kicks his briefs off and fully exposes his raging cock. Leaking, stiff, slightly raw from the fabric. Your mouth nearly waters at it when he sits flat on the floor and leans against the bed.

Typically, you’d go ahead and choke on it for a few minutes, but by this point you kind of want to feel him inside of you. You want to see how he will react to the overwhelming relief of having his cock inside of you, and so you slip your panties off and plant yourself on him without warning.

His arms shoot around you with a drawn-out moan of feeling you go straight for the kill. You slide down so easily, and he can’t help but shiver at how wet and tight you are as you spread yourself open on.

He squeezes around you with his arms, burying his face into your neck with a gasp and somewhat of a whimper. One that shows you that you’re doing exactly what he needs, but probably not what he wants. 

You, on the other hand, hold your moans in so that you can hear him clearly. With his hair tickling your cheek and his cock practically impaling you, it’s difficult not to try and wiggle away from your own doing. He splits you open so fucking good, the uncomfortable fit making your ears and cheeks feel hot as you try to adjust without showing him a reaction of either pain or pleasure. 

He’s the one whimpering about it. You know that the stretch you’re feeling must be overwhelming on his end too. You can feel his cock twitch, and his breath hitches with each second you don’t move on him. You sit there with your weight holding his hips in place to where he couldn’t fuck up even if he wanted to, which you can tell he does. 

And you stay that way until his gasps become wet, and you can feel the remnants of drool fall against your neck as he tries to contain himself. You stay even as his gasps turn to little moans, pleading for you to move, until they turn to full out whimpers of pain. His hands grip at you in this harsh and close hug, his chest squishing your tits so close to your own body that you know he’s coming undone as you sit on him.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You question his hair, and you feel a short nod. 

“Say it.”

Mingyu’s body jerks under you as he spreads his legs and leaves your ass hovering just above the floor as you sit on him. The slight change of angle causes you to moan softly at the way the head of his cock reaches impossibly deeper. 

“Just ask, and I’ll let you.” You continue as you try to compose yourself, clenching your walls around him to elicit a response, but it appears he’s gone. 

Absolutely lost to the warmth of you, his hands grip harder and his legs tense up. 

“I could be coming so deep inside of you right now,” he tries to say, flinching at the way you clench around him again. “Of fucking course i want to fuck you.” 

You pull back from his grip to give him a disappointed look. 

“Well, you can’t.” You smile, clenching around him again and watching him drop his head back against the mattress in a pained groan of defeat. 

And like that, he feels you clench again, and again, essentially jerking him off with your pussy alone until he’s babbling and rolling his eyes back.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, still.” He groans, throwing his hand to his hair to run his fingers through it, as if he’s searching for any type of relief since you’re not offering much to him. “I bet you feel so full right now, can’t believe you’re not bouncing on me yet, can’t believe you’re not begging me to fuck you.”

It’s like a fucking competition at this point to have him completely give in. You want him to give himself up to you, you want him to let you take him for all he’s worth.

“Not until you give in.” You challenge, swirling your hips just a bit to see if it helps your case. And god, it does. 

Surprisingly, he winces and begins to shiver under you at just that short movement, you watch his hand go from his hair to the blankets just behind and above his head to grip at them. You can feel him try to tense his ass, just to press into you a bit– just to see if he can get away with fucking you. 

“I can see how badly you want it, just admit it.” 

There it is, and there he goes. That last bit of brick wall between his dominant side and submissive side disappears and he’s falling into it. Easier now than before, it’s not an act now. Though it wasn’t entirely before either. He is desperate at this point. He’s not doing it because it’s what you want, he’s doing it because it’s what he needs. 

You draw back slightly at his hiccup, not at all expecting him to start fucking crying. But he does, his eyes prickling and glistening more than they ever have as the tears well up in his eyes. Not tears of sadness, but very clearly tears of pleading. 

“Oh,” You sigh out, clenching again but this time completely unintentionally at the image. Your big, looming boyfriend is sitting broken with his cock nestled so deep inside of you that he’s actually fucking crying because you won’t let him move. “My god.” You sigh out again when he looks at you with a deep breath. 

“You do want me that badly.” You confirm for him, knowing that his throat must hurt as he tries to continue to contain himself.

He nods aggressively, not even realizing how far he’s fallen from his throne, furrowing his brows as one of the tears falls down his cheek and he’s a heaving mess waiting for you to just fucking move. 

So, you do. You slide him out of you just a bit before sitting again and in an instant he’s shooting his arms around you and gripping you so tightly, hoping to whatever god above tells you to hang onto him because he knows for a fact that he can’t string together the words at the moment. 

Just like that, he gains control over you in a way that isn’t dominant at all. He’s lost in it, holding you so tightly and tipping you onto your back so fast that you can barely comprehend the speed he’s fucking you at. 

His eyes are still wet, and his hands are still bruising, and his cock is driving into you so aggressively that somehow he’s going harder than he does when you ask him to fuck you rough. So this is how he is when he’s desperate. 

The wet sounds of your pussy being slammed, his lips sucking at your neck, whimpering at the sudden and intense relief his cock is getting– it’s um.. it’s a lot to handle. 

And when he starts trying to talk in a whisper, it comes out at varying volumes, causing your ears to ring with somehow, even more arousal than before. 

“Can’t believe you pulled this out of me,” he starts, long and hard thrusts pushing you up inch by inch on the floor under him. “You feel so fucking good,” he continues, rambling out words he doesn’t even know he’s saying. “I couldn’t–” He pauses in a moan, slamming into you particularly hard and causing you to yelp, which causes him to nearly growl out the next words. “I couldn’t hold back anymore,” 

You can’t respond, as you feel the lights in your head flicker and the fog set in. 

“To think your pussy could have me crying,” he whimpers out pathetically this time, feeling his orgasm approach so fast that he doesn’t even want to edge himself like he normally would with you. “Still so tight, fuck.” He compliments through his chase, up until he’s stuttering his hips and crying out a string of curses and apologies for managing to be on top of you when he knew you wanted to be in control.

It’s not long before he realizes your spiral, mid orgasm, he notices your overstimulated shaking body and the reality smacks him in the face. Normally, you’re a sub, you’re his sub.. You practically forced yourself back into the mind-set while trying to force him into it, and when he tipped you over and couldn’t stop himself from taking the pleasure from you, you spiraled with him.

He continues to whisper out pained apologies as he releases the last bit of his cum into you before pulling you back up and into his arms. His heart is pounding, and his cock is twitching sensitively inside of you when he does it. 

He winces at the feeling but focuses more on your silence, rubbing your clit roughly as you sigh against him limply, up until your body begins to shake in his arms and he works you through your orgasm like the perfect boyfriend he is. 

~

“That didn’t end the way it was supposed to.” You pout, disappointed that he still ended up being the one to get both of you off. 

He smiles fondly at you, feeling like he’s weightless as you gripe and complain about it. 

“We can try again. I promise to totally submit to you next time.” He says with a gentle rub against your waist as you step into the shower. “I’ll even beg.”

You look at him with interest, smiling slightly but hating the fact that it didn’t work out how you wanted it to this time. 

“I did cry, you know..” He reminds you, his cheeks heating up at the embarrassment of the fact that you managed to pull that out of him. 

“You did.” You poke fun at him, feeling the water from the shower hit your sweat and cum stained skin, it’s warm and soothing. “And it was hot.”

He quirks a brow. 

“We are too alike,” He gripes with a laugh, shaking his head and preparing to get into the shower with you. “but it’s gonna take some practice if you want me acting the way you act.”

“But you cried.” 

“I did.”

~

[firelilyfox]

Choose Your Next Words Carefully

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment (assault) / cursing / angst / blood

Words: 2k

Summary: Paul & you were childhood friends but suddenly he distanced from you. On a night full of celebration you get into trouble & Paul protects you … but what happened two years ago?

______________________

Caladan looked even more beautiful at night. 

You are watching the peaceful waves collapsing under the balcony you are standing on. Behind the whole castle is celebrating another victory against the Harkonnen. A soft breeze lets the fabric of your dress flow in the wind and you take a deep breath of the salty air. 

It wasn’t your wish to be here tonight, but your father insisted that you would watch him getting honored for his work for Duke Leto. And you did. But when the duke’s son joined the celebration, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. 

You and Paul Atreides had a very … complicated past. 

As long as you could remember you had a crush on him and he knew it all along. When the two of you were younger, you would play everyday and make mischief all around the castle. But suddenly you barley saw him once a week and Paul acted kinda cold around you. Once you wanted to talk to him about his weird behavior, he just laughed at you and made fun of you for having a crush on him. Everybody around could hear him laughing and began to pity you for being so naive. 

The daughter of a soldier would never be good enough for a future Duke. 

You never spoke to Paul again. This was two years ago, but every time you see him at big events, your heart tightens and you become overwhelmed with sadness and anger. How could he do something like that to you? Even if he never had felt the same for you as you did for him … friends don’t hurt each other like that. 

„What are you doing out here?“, a voice asked behind you. When you turned around you saw a man standing there, looking at you with a drunk smile. It was a friend of your father. A soldier, just like him. 

„Just catching some fresh air“, you said. 

The man comes closer to you, stumbling over his own feet. His wrinkly face showed many scars from battle in the past. „It is dangerous … for a young Lady … out here.“ 

He leans towards you, but you duck away from him. „Uh.. thanks for the heads up. I will go inside … where its safer.“ 

As you turn your back again, you can hear him mumbling something about find me later, but you don’t want to keep listening to this creepy guy.  

Quickly your feet carrying you inside the great hall, where most of the people are dancing and drinking. You couldn’t see your father anywhere because you are shorter than most of the men and women here. So you decide to get on one of the stone benches to get a better view from up there. 

„These things are meant to sit on, you know?“ 

Green eyes. A crooked grin. Freckles. 

„What do you know, Atreides? Shouldn’t your royal ass be sitting on a throne or something?“

Paul chuckles. „Sassy as always. Some things never change, hm?“ 

You rolled your eyes and went back to keep on looking for your father, so you could finally leave this goddamn party. That’s when Paul joined you on the bench. 

„What are we looking for?“, he asked amused. 

You’re frowning at him. „WE are not looking for anything. I am looking for my father. And YOU should leave me alone, Atreides.“ 

Paul looks confused. „Have you forgotten my first name? It’s Paul, you know?“ He smiled again and you catch yourself almost smiling at his dumb joke. But you manage to pull yourself together before that happens. It almost felt like when you were kids. 

„Fuck off, Paul.“ You jump from the bench and trying to make a way through the crowd of drunk, dancing people. Paul follows you. 

„You tell your future Duke to fuck off? Hah! You are as brave as I remember“, he says laughing. Before you could respond anything, Paul grabs your wrist and turns you around. His other hand holding your waist and you find yourself pressed against him. The high difference forces you to look up at him. 

„What are you doing?“, you stutter. 

A smirk appears on his face, as if he know how much impact his presence has on you. „I’m dancing with you. I mean we are on the dance floor.“ 

For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. The pressure of his hand on your lower back, his chest moving against yours. Your fingers on his bicep. Hands holding each other. This was something you always dreamed about. Your heart begins to pound like crazy. His smile faded and his gaze softened. Now he looks at you like you are the only thing that is existent. Time moves slower. Noise faded. Only you and him. 

Paul leans his forehead against yours, closings his eyes and he takes a deep breath. The moment was intimate and all you wished for at some point … but it felt wrong. 

„What has gotten into you tonight?“ You pushed him away. A hurt expression crossed his face and you almost felt bad. „Two years, Paul. Two years and now this?“ 

Without waiting for a stupid response you took off and managed to find a way through the crowd out in the hallways. Tears filled your eyes, but you are to stubborn to let them run down your face, exposing your hurt feelings. 

Desperate for some privacy you opened a small door and find an empty room with sofas. The perfect hiding spot until you’ll be able to shove down your feelings again. 

„I see. The Lady found me.“ 

A high pinched scream escaped your throat as you were grabbed roughly by the shoulders and got pushed down on one of the sofas. Your head slammed against something hard and you feel warm blood running down your cheek. 

The man from the balcony holds you down with a big smile on his face. His gaze is hidden in shadows but you recognize him. 

„Let me go! My father will behead you with his own hands!“ You scream at him, trying to get away but against his heavy body you have no chance. 

He was not listening and even if he was, he seemed not to care. The man took one hand of your shoulder to grab you by the neck to choke you and the other hand loosened up his pants. 

„No. No please. No“, you beg for him to stop. 

„Not so bratty anymore, hm? I shall teach you a lesson you little slut! I will…“ 

But his words came to stop. Slowly you opened your eyes again, as his grip around your neck got loose again. You could see a knife at his throat, forcing him to stop and not move a muscle. The hand, that was holding the knife belonged to … Paul. 

He was standing behind the man. His eyes dark and full of rage. The knife scratching the skin and making the old man bleed a little bit. 

The old guy shouted in anger. „Whoever dares to interrupt me will be punished!“ 

Paul chuckled dangerously silent and forced the man to turn around to look at him. His eyes widened in shock. „My Lord“, he whispered. „I didn’t know that you own this whore … I mean I …“ 

„If I were you“, Paul interrupted him with a deadly glance. „I would choose my next words very carefully.“ 

Paul lays more pressure on the knife and it’s cutting deeper into his skin. The man began to whimper. Before the damage would be irreversible, Paul pushed him to the ground. 

„I won’t wash my hands in your blood.“ As if he had given a silent sign, two guards came in to drag the man outside. „These guys will handle that.“ 

You look at Pauls back. He was standing there like a true leader. Like the man he became. He was not a child anymore … and neither were you. 

As the door closes again he dropped the knife and turned around to you. Faster than lighting he got down on one knee to met your eyes at the same hight. His hands cupping your face and he wipes your tears away that mixed up with the blood. 

„Does it hurt badly?“, he asked with a soft voice. The contrast to his fearless and deadly side couldn’t be any bigger. 

You shake your head. „No it’s fine.“ 

„He will be beheaded in the morning. You don’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.“ Paul tries to calm you down. His eyes holding your own captured and you weren’t able to look away. 

„Thanks. I mean …“, you shake your head again getting rid of his hands. „I should go now.“ 

You stand up and opening the door. Paul is standing right behind you, pushing the door shut again. His hand were right next to your head but you refuse tu turn around right away. 

„Please let me explain“, he whispered. Paul was so close, that you could feel his breath on your skin. You sigh but still refuse to turn around to look at him. 

„There is nothing to explain. I know everything that I need to know.“ 

„You asked me what has gotten into me tonight.“ 

You stay silent. 

Paul sighted. „My father told me that I don’t have to be married to be the next Duke.“

Confusion brings you to look over your shoulder and met his sad green eyes. The honesty in them lets you turn around. „What does that have to do with me?“ 

He smiled but it looked so sad and broken. „Everything. I … i stayed away from you on purpose, y/n.“ 

„What do you mean?“ 

„The day you told me, that you … you had feelings for me, was the same day my father told me to that I have to marry Princess Irulan in the future. I was so mad at him because I already lost my heart to someone and I … but he said that it had to be this way.“ 

„So you let out your anger about your father out on me?“, you asked angrily. 

Paul shakes his head. „No. I just thought … if you would hate me … then it would be easier for me to stay away from you.“ 

Suddenly all fell right into place. His behavior on that day two years ago made much more sense … he was cold and distant but… 

You punched him on the arm. „That still don’t give you the permission to act like an asshole!“ 

Paul smiled and nodded apologetically. „You are right but I was young and not so smart like I thought I wished to be.“ 

A moment of silence fell over the two of you. Just the eyes spoke louder than a voice could ever manage to do. 

„So … you lost your heart to someone else than your reflection in the mirror?“, you joked. 

„God I missed your sassy mouth so much!“ Paul laughed and it was the first real laughter you heard from him for such a long time. „Yeah i did. Even if my reflection is pretty stunning … nothing compares to the girl that I lost my heart and soul to.“ 

Paul gently laid his hand on your cheek making sure you keep on looking into his eyes before  he kept on talking. „I always loved you, y/n. Of course I did! How could I not love you?“ 

Tears start to fill your eyes again … but this time for a good reason. 

„You are still an asshole for behaving like that, Atreides.“ 

His smile melted your heart away. „Will you forgive me?“ 

You nod. 

Paul slowly leans towards you and when his lips met yours, there where nothing else to say. 

[talkbycolor]

jester-shaped fucktoy

A/N; have you ever had sex with a clown? It sounds like honk honk with every thrust

Pairing; "Damon" x AFAB!Reader (im starting to consider to make the reader no tits, no pussy, no dick, just a barbie doll with a hole man)

CW; this is a little gross ngl, just sweaty sex / unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, just like the hentais teached me / rough sex, heavy overstim, fucking like animals just like the song / circus scenario, porn without plot / this is just smut but hey, dont be shy and request something / this counts as an AU?

You were never the main attraction of the show, a jester whose only function was to demonstrate clumsiness in presentations, a cute clown.

So how did you end up spread-eagled in your dressing room?

There was a man in reddish clothes thrusting into your fat pussy, you didn't even know his name, you had barely finished the show that night when he showed up at the door of your trailer proclaiming to be a big fan.

"AH SHIT! FUCK! RIGHT THERE!" You moaned as your trembling hands tried to hold onto his shoulders, you screamed so loudly that your circus buddies could probably hear you from their trailers, the guy was huge compared to you, he grunted and howled every time his thick penis wedged itself between the folds of your abused Damn, it was like having sex with a wolf instead of the adorable fan who had sheepishly introduced himself a couple of minutes ago.

Because you had just had a performance, you were so sweaty and having sex right now only made it worse, you were melting in his arms as he fucked you against the dresser in your dressing room, practically dripping as your clown makeup ran down your cheeks, combined with sweat and pleasurable tears from being fucked so well.

"P-Please, PLEASE! I'M GOING TO PISS!" You whimpered, your body reacting on its own, saliva dripping down your chin as you begged him to slow down, your ass ached from the clash of skin and your peach was as red as your lipstick.

"Hey, is everything okay in there?" Someone knocked on the door of the trailer, which shook a little from the intense movement of the event that was happening inside. The stranger with fangs only growled when he heard a new voice wanting to interrupt the fun.

"Everything's fine! t-everything is perfect, give me a second!" You warned, putting all your effort and self-control into ensuring that your words didn't come out like the desperate screams of a whore who was being fucked at that moment.

The person outside the dressing room had probably understood the situation long before hearing you so no one else asked again.

Making out wildly with a fan inside your trailer while he put his penis in your hole was not something you had in mind due to the hectic life you had.

But hell, it wasn't something you turned down either.

Not long after, you choked a scream in his throat as you reached your orgasm, feeling like you were choking on the stranger's tongue, your breathing was erratic and your body was shaking violently, you had already come but he didn't stop, moving his hips like a dog. wanting to knot and fill you completely.

"You'd look so adorable swollen with my seed, you wouldn't mind me inseminating you, right?" He spoke between grunts, they weren't even coordinated thrusts anymore, his voice sounded so agitated as he panted like a dog in search of his orgasm.

"This fucking pussy is all mine, I'm going to fill you so many times that you won't be able to appear in any performance for a whole week, you'll spend those days getting out all the semen that I'm going to put in you" He said as he gently chewed your ear, his tongue going shamelessly on your sweaty skin, biting your neck until leaving several marks in shades of carmine and violet.

At that point he was just desperately licking every drop of sweat from your body, he was also dripping and not just semen, the splash between skin was a combination of precum and sweat, and the entire trailer smelled of sex.

"But how easy, you offer your ass to every fan who talks to you?" That sounded a little more threatening, like he was genuinely angry and the thought of you being with others was enough to make him furious.

So furious that he grabbed your hips until he left violent marks.

"F-FUCK! P-PLEASE! I HAVE NOT BEEN WITH ANYONE, ONLY WITH YOU!" You moaned between whimpers at the delicious pain, now he moved with more force, you could almost swear that you felt the head of his penis making an effort to enter your cervix.

Overexertion made you a stupid whore, you had urinated yourself even when he was pounding into you, isn't that pathetic? You were drooling shamelessly and your head was ringing as you didn't even recognize what was happening, you just knew that he felt too good despite having your cunt numb from the amount of stimulation he was receiving.

Grinding his hips against your entrance finally brought about his orgasm, cumming in large quantities until your belly looked a little more swollen, proud of that work he spread your legs in a perfect split, you were quite flexible after all.

As for you? A trembling doll that only let out pathetic gasps and his head was too screwed to be able to say coherent words, you even laughed softly.

The guy brought his forehead together with yours and kissed your lips, your lipstick was already a disaster so you returned the kiss more than gladly.

"I'm Damon, and I was serious about being a big fan…can we go on a date?"

He introduced himself even though you probably couldn't even figure out what was going on, you could only whimper with a satisfied smile.

"I… sure" You smiled exhausted.

♡

[tvgals]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ WE’LL GROW TOGETHER .

- miles has some underlying issues that he doesn’t want to talk about, and it sparks a new issue in you two’s relationship .

after the events with the spider society and it taking a hell of a long time for miles to come back to you, he tells you he doesn’t want to talk about it. that these were his demons and not yours, and he didn’t want to bring your spirit down with his burdens. you insisted it was okay, that he could tell you anything — but miles didn’t listen — and it’s coming back to bite him in the ass.

“what are you so upset for?” you ask miles, who was pacing around his room — trying to let some steam off. “nothing.” that was a lie. miles wanted to tell you, he really did! but he knew that you would look at him like he was spiderman, and not your loving doting boyfriend of two years. “miles, i’m not an idiot. just tell me so we can fix whatever the problem is.” you tell him, grabbing his hand when he was in front of you and pulling him with you onto the bed.

“if i tell you, you have to swear not to tell anyone else. like no one.” miles warns you, turning his head to look into your eyes. “swear.” you promise, taking his hand into yours. you can see miles muster up the courage to tell you, the way he wants to just blurt it out and disappear as if it never happened. “i’m,” miles starts, he sighs and takes his hand away from yours. you’re visibly confused. “what is it?” you whisper solemnly. it’s as if miles doesn’t trust you. “never mind. i’m sorry.” miles apologizes, turning away from you and leaving his bedroom. you scrunch your face up in confusion and follow behind him.

“miles. just tell me-“ you insisted before you were cut off with miles abruptly turning around to face you and looking down at you. as if you were below him the a sense of urgency. “y/n. leave it alone. it’s not any of your business, okay?” miles asks, looking anywhere but your eyes. “but it is. you’re my boyfriend, hell, my best friend even and i’ll be damned if something happened to you and i don’t know what because you never tell me where you are.” you rant to him, watching his big brown eyes meet yours, angst filled.

“please, y/n..” miles whispered, biting the inside of his cheek. “please what? all i want from you is the truth, miles. and if you can’t tell me that, i don’t know what to think of you anymore.” you warn him, grabbing his hands once again. you can see him take a deep breath and blink back his tears. “i’m spiderman.” miles admits, his eyes closed. it takes you a couple seconds, hell, several seconds even. in a swift motion you let go of his hands and step back a second, miles’ eyes shooting open when he doesn’t feel your warmth anymore.

“y/n-“ “you’re not lying, are you?” you ask, twiddling your thumbs. “no, no! of course not! c’mere.” he coaxed you, walking to his room where he reveals the scarlet and noir suit in all its glory. “it’s mine. really.” he tells you, again waiting for a response from you. miles throws it onto his bed and sits down next to it, still watching you process everything you were just told. “please say something.” miles begs you, his leg bouncing like crazy. all you do is walk over to him and sit next to him, engulfing him in a hug.

“thank you for telling me, miles.” you tell him, feeling tears dampen your shoulder. you want to cry yourself, bawl your eyes out even. you pull away from him to get a good look, you bring your hands to his cheek and wipe away his tears with your thumb. “we’ll grow together.” you promise, smiling at him. “we’ll grow together.” miles whispered to himself.

[shygirl4991]

Next Step With You Prologue High Rollers of affection

Cover mad by @lizaluvsthis do not repost! A Reboot of the next step! Next chapter Summary: SMG4 and SMG3 relationship changed after realizing their feelings in WOTFI 2023, now together the pair can take the next step together. That is until a strange gift arrives on SMG3's birthday making him face his demons from his past. 

Tags: Fluff, Boyfriends, Love Confession, Watch Wotfi 2023 before reading, first love, mention of igloo

SMG4 was giggling as he played club penguin, it was surprisingly a normal day given yesterday SMG3 snap after they failed to stop Mario from taking his notebook. Knowing Mario as long as he has there was no way he was keeping the notebook, given how peaceful it is, the notebook should be back in Three’s hand in no time.  He thought too soon as the door to his room flys open to reveal a panicked SMG3 “SMG4!! MARIO STOLE MY NOTEBOOK! I NEED YOUR HELP GETTING IT BACK!” he starts to wave a photo of the notebook at him. 

He was facing Three in his computer chair, annoyed and surprised at the fact that Mario kept his notebook “Pfft It's just a notebook, get a new one.” Four wasn’t sure what the big deal was. He knew it meant a lot to the man but losing the notebook doesn't mean the world will end. Three walks in the room visibly nervous “It’s not just any notebook it's got secrets,” he drops to his knees making Four get nervous “Including…” he looks around “Secrets about you and me, and certain events in an igloo.” SMG4's face goes pale as the hidden memory unlocks. The need for food, how they both needed warmth though Three was stubborn and rather die there then cuddle him for warmth. They both thought they were going to die, with this thought in four’s mind he looks at SMG3 he did find him attractive so why the hell not. The event that follows haunts the pair as they agreed to never talk about it again. Remember everything he screams jumping out of the chair “WE GOTTA GET THAT NOTEBOOK!” 

After that he runs out of the room to ask a casual question to Melony leaving Three to nervously sit in the room, seeing the man return he runs up to him grabbing his overall straps “What did you learn?” Slowly pulling away from the man he goes to sit on his computer chair “So Melony told me she noticed Mario taking something to some billionaire tycoon which has to be the notebook,” he points to a photo that Melony took of the location “and they both are inside this brand new casino. Its exact location? The CEO office.” SMG4 starts to type something on his computer, using the software Melony used to hack the cameras he connects to one in a safe showing them drilling into the notebook. He was warned that the place was tough to hack and not to stay on the cameras for long, shame they can't hack the cameras down would have made this situation easier.  Seeing the drills on his notebook Three chuckles “That’s right, that idiot Mario still needs my secret key to open it!”

Four nods wondering what the key could be as he starts to type in the program “Well..it's not just Mario that's behind this…he’s too stupid to do this on his own.” as he switches cameras Three could only watch in shock that Marty was the one truly behind everything.  Why a living cardboard meme that Mario made wants SMG3 notebook Four had no idea, given how badly  it wants in the notebook it has to be something huge. “MARTY!? THAT PIECE OF CARDBOARD CRAP IS BEHIND THIS?!?” glaring at the screen he takes out dynamite from his pocket. He throws the dynamite in the air and catches it with a smirk causing SMG4 to smile without noticing “Lets just break in and take it then!” after that he starts to run off only for Four to grab him “Slooow down cowboy.” he throws Three down getting a growl from the man.  SMG4 then points to another camera view on the screen “We can't just go in there guns blazing. This place is heavily guarded, I'm talking about state of the art security that will blow our asses up the moment we get detected.” he wanted this notebook back fast but they had to play their cards right. SMG3 slowly blinks looking at the picture on the screen “SMG4..this is just a picture of Mario.” 

Four nods pointing at Three “Exactly! So we’ll need to be sneaky and cunning about this! Who knows what that stupid fat Italian has up his sleeve.” After hours planning and Three fighting about Fours idea on letting his subscribers pick how to get his notebook back it was the day of the heist. SMG3 smirks, fixing his fedora and tie “Alright looking fresh!” he winks and snaps his fingers making Fours stomach flip. Something that has been happening ever since the pair became friends, he wasn't sure why it only happens around Three after days of thinking on the subject he assumed it had to do with their link and lived on ignoring the way his heart would race when being near the man. With their spy rizz outfits on they walk to the casino, SMG4 was smiling and waving at the crowd not noticing the loving look Three was giving him. You could ask Three why he was looking at the man like that and you can bet his answer will have nothing to do with how charming he found the man's outfit to be. They walk into the casino with no issue, SMG3 smiles getting ready for the mission only to hear someone humming. Turning he sees SMG4 sneaking as he hums the theme from Mission Impossible, letting out  a sigh as he walks up to the man smacking him “Dude, stop it.” four frowns and looks down agreeing to stop. 

“Hey!” the pair jumps hearing Mario’s yelling, they turn to see Mario checking everyone coming into the casino. He then pointed at his brother demanding answers, the pair watch as Mario lets Luigi in only to burn him alive for letting out a cough. They slowly turn to each other, nervous about what they just saw before Three shakes himself out of it, they had a mission no time to get cold feet.  “Alright, what the hell are we doing here?” hearing Three’s voice, Four looks at their watch to see what was voted. They both nod at the result and put on clown masks getting ready to scare the Italian man, they sneak up to him and start making loud sounds to scare him. Mario slams the table making the men nervous as he gets closer to them as he checks them both out then focuses on SMG4 “Your color schemes look awfully familiar..”

The more Mario stares at Four the more anxious Three feels, then he sees Mario start to drool and reach out to Four. He wasn't sure what was going on with Mario but he was sure it was something stupid and he had to stop him “THATS IT WERE WALKING THROUGH!” he pushes Four causing the mask to fall off. They all stay silent staring at the mask before SMG4 turns to mario “uhh i can explain..”  Mario screams, surprising the men “AHHHH A SCARY CLOWN!” SMG4 frowns seeing his best friend run from him, Three throws the mask off “Hey works for me, lets go.” he was going to walk away before four grabbed him “Am…am i really that horrific to look at?” Three felt himself blush as four looked up at him with puppy eyes. He looks away sighing “You look like how you always did, a shit head with a huge ego now can we go?” Four pouts at the comment before moving forward. 

They stand in the main lobby looking around to see the cameras in the lobby. “Great…Mario must be surveilling the place intensely, we have to shut off those security cameras.” they nod as they look at the watch. Their eyes go wide seeing the vote that won “Uh heh maybe the watch counted the votes wrong,” Four smacks the watch hoping the choice will change. SMG3 sighs seeing the panic four was going through, he looks around and smirks as he walks over to a booth asking for a song change for the lobby. Four sighs finally admitting defeat then starts to think “Do a sexy dance? How do I even pull that off? Is there a meme dance that could come off as sexy?” 

That's when Three grabs his arm pulling him close to his body, SMG4's face turns completely red seeing how close they are “T-Three?” the man moves Fours hand on his shoulder while holding the other one “Your dumb subscribers did the vote lets get this over with so we can get my notebook, follow my lead!” He then placed his hand on Fours lower back causing the man’s heart to start racing. SMG3 makes sure that Four was pressed against his body before moving, Four did his best to follow the steps that the other man was doing.Then tango music started to play making Fours eyes go wide “How is the tango a sexy dance?” SMG3 kept moving to the music then smirks “That idiot seems to get off with us being gay, so if he catches us this close dancing he will freak and knowing that idiot he will end up breaking something!” Four nods understanding where his partner was coming from. As they dance, Three picks up speed as Four attempts to keep focus on his steps, his mind starting to fill with strange thoughts. As he dances his eyes slowly drop to SMG3 lips those thoughts start to play louder in his head, he wants to kiss the man right there and the thought causes him to miss a step. 

Mario catches the dance on the camera and zooms in his eyes pops out as he sees the pair, he knows he should have hit the alarm but the close dance made him want to cheer the two in hopes they finally get together. Seeing Four missing the step Three takes the chance to do a final hit on Mario, dipping SMG4 he leans in close, pressing his forehead against the other man making it look like they kissed on the cameras. Four held his breath at how close they were, while Three was looking into Four’s eyes. A strange feeling hit them both, they were on a mission they had to get the notebook and yet Four couldn't help slowly moving his hand to the back of Three’s head. It was the perfect moment to kiss each other, something they both wanted at the moment, only to be broken out of the spell hearing Mario scream in excitement and blowing up all the cameras. SMG3 lifted up Four and smiled seeing that the mission was a success “Great! Let's go!” SMG4 watches Three walks ahead acting as nothing has happened, was he the only one that felt that spark. He follows Three, his thoughts filled with what happened. He takes out his phone and starts to search his feelings. Distracted Four agreed to a plan that Three made without knowing what it was about, his eyes widened as he read what the results showed “A deep romantic connection..me and Three?” he looks up to realize he missed what he had to do and Three was now being taken by Swag and Chris. Four panicked and was going to save Three only to feel something heavy hit him, knocking him out cold. 

He opens his eyes and look around the room confused only to see Mario pop up in front of him “Hello mother fucker!” seeing the plumber he starts to scream which woke up Three making him also scream. He turns to see Three was tied down, panic starts to build up inside of him thinking of what they could do to the man. Mario chuckles as he approaches Three “Mario?? LET US GO DUDE!” He was hoping that his call out would bring the man back to him.  Sadly the man he is growing a romantic attraction to was SMG3 “AND GIVE ME MY NOTEBOOK BACK YOU ASS!” Mario smirks at the tied up Three making Four wiggle against his restraints. “I’ve been waiting for this! We finally got them, didn't we Marty?” Marty sighs and agrees with Mario, he was annoyed that the plumber let them get away once and was lucky the spies got distracted. Mario turns his attention back to Three “Just give us the key to your notebook SMG3! We’ve tried everything but it wont open yet!” This was all Four's fault for searching on his phone, the guilt was eating him as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Three gives Four a soft look before gaining back his snarky personality “NEVER! I’ll never tell!”

Mario lets out a chilling laugh that caught both men's attention, he takes his phone out smirking, he hits play and starts showing cringe memes to Three. Their avatar knows them too well and had the perfect videos to make Three cringe, the more videos played the more he saw the man break to the point he started shedding tears “NOOO! HE CANT TAKE IT! LET HIM BE!”  Mario grins as he pulls up one last video the moment SMG3 sees it he screams. Four’s eyes flicker yellow as he looks around the room “Come on four think of something worse than what SMG3 is dealing with right now!” he focuses on all the cringe he has seen on the internet till he shrivels up from it. Now free from the rope he runs towards Mario he can hear Three about to break “Hey ass!” catching Mario’s attention he throws Eggdog out, the pup attacks the plumber while he runs to untie Three. The moment he unties Three he starts to shout “IM FREE! IM FREE!” rolling his eyes he grabs the man pulling him off the table to run out of the room with Eggdog following. 

As they leave room Three turns shaking Four “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU!?” Four frowns looking down, he starts to play with the button of his vest. “I was feeling strange so…i wanted to look up what was going on because it was distracting.” SMG3 lets four go and sighs giving him a quick look up and down before nodding “you seem fine now, just we are a team talk to me.” He didn't know what to do, Three was rarely this soft and now knowing the strange emotion he has been ignoring is he could feel his heart racing. Taking a deep breath he grabs Three's hand “If my viewers make the choices that land us in green, I have something I need to tell you.” They looked in each other's eyes, seeing how serious four looked the man nodded before they moved forward. 

The pair were losing it after being chased by Mario and ending up in a game show forcing them to watch what happened to them in the igloo. After that the pair found Depresso and used him as a distraction to get ready to fight the plumber in which Three was surprised to see Four was good at fighting the avatar out without breaking a sweat. Now they opened the door and were standing across the safe with their prize. Three was going to walk only to be stopped by Four, he then pulls out baby powder and blows it revealing lasers in the room. “Yep, just as I expected! These lasers will probably explode if we touch them.” SMG3 looked at the bottle then back at Four “Why do you have baby powder?” SMG4 sighs “I have a sensitive ass!” with awkward nods they both turn to focus on the lasers.  SMG4, seeing the results, smirks “Watch this!” SMG3 watched in awe as he watched the meme guardian front flip, avoiding all the lasers and making it to the other side. He hits the button and winks at his crush making Threes face red “What are you waiting for we got a notebook to save!” 

That moment SMG3 wished he had his notebook to doodle the moment he saw, though he was sure those flips and wink will haunt his mind all day. They cheer getting into the safe only to be stopped by Marty and Mario, together with their meme power they manage to put a stop to the pair and grab the notebook. After more attempts by Marty and Mario to stop them, the pair escape and win the day with their watches landing on green. Four smiles seeing how happy Three was, then he looks at the watch nervously knowing what he has to do soon. Hours later they announced to the subscribers that thanks to them they saved the notebook, Three was so happy to get it back he started to smooch the book making Four giggle. After teasing SMG3 about why he was building a new evil lair right next to his castle he lets out a small yawn, who knew doing a heist could take so much out of you.  “Speaking of cafes…I’m dead tired.” he gives his partner a small smile “Lets have some coffee.”  For the first time since they have known each other things felt peaceful, maybe it was them both being drained from the heist or maybe this whole event brought them closer together. He remembers back a few weeks ago how SMG1 and two told them they had to get along in order for their powers to get stronger, all that event did was give him work to tell the world how they two weren't together due them being caught holding hands thanks to Marios gum. 

SMG3 perks up hearing his words “Now we’re talkin!” walking together they sit on a pile of wood  waiting to become a part of SMG3 cafe, SMG4 smiles looking at the sunset as SMG3 starts doing their coffee. They smile at each other doing a small cheer as they clink their

cups together and drink, as SMG4 enjoys the warmth of the coffee he notices SMG3 writing in his notebook with a huge smile "What are you writing?" he knew he wasn't going to get an answer but it wasn't going to hurt him to ask you never know what mood SMG3 is in.

He smirks and turns away "I'll never tell!" SMG3 makes sure the other cant see the drawing he is doing of them both with cups of coffee.

With a giggle he nods "Don't worry i wont push it," as he looks back at the sunset his heart starts to beat faster. This would be the perfect moment wouldn't it? He had to admit the closer they got the harder it was for him to keep his feelings in check. When he hears the notebook close he decides now is the time with one last gulp of the coffee he turns to SMG3 "You know...this heist got me thinking,” 

SMG3 sips his coffee and stares at his partner "What that we should be full time spies, cause i'm not a fan of the idea of your fans telling me how to live my life," SMG4 shakes his head with a small chuckle "No, nothing like that...just we make a good team don't we?"

He keeps staring at SMG4 feeling confused on what was going on with the man next to him, seeing this SMG4 sighs feeling himself blush. "You know...people ship us together...and uh with all that's happened to us i started to wonder...." he had no idea what he was doing. Every TV show he has seen made confessions look easy, even Axol made it look sweet and easy with the manga he was making before everything.

SMG3's eyes go wide as he also starts to blush "Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden, idiot!!"

SMG4 closes his eyes "WHAT IF WE MAKE IT CANON!?"

Everything was dead silent, he was nervous to open his eyes to see how SMG3 was looking at him. Finally he hears a whisper "you....what?" Slowly he opened his eyes to see a stun SMG3, his face was as red as his eyes, it almost made SMG4 giggle for how cute it was to see him like that. "I..well i like you i figured it out today when we were on the heist, so i was wondering if maybe we can try...the next step?"

SMG4 started to get worried he broke the man for how long it took for him to move again, he watches as SMG3 stares at the floor then his notebook. His heart sank, did the guardian not feel the same as him?

SMG3 gets up and stands in front of him "Fine, i guess i...i like you too! But don't let it get to your head...Baka!"

SMG4 lights up, standing up and hugging him, ignoring the heat on his face, Three hugged his boyfriend back. They separated and gave each other a small smile before Four spoke up “Need a place to crash till the cafe is done..you can stay with me till then.” SMG3 looks at the castle then his hand thinking about the graveyard, staying here they both could figure out this new step easier then him in another location “Yeah that could work..but can we keep this thing with us on the down low not sure i'm ready for the idiots to learn about us.” with a nod they both slowly reach for each other's hand and let out nervous giggles. Now holding hands the pair walk into the castle to move SMG3 in,Little did they know a shadow was watching them from a distance growling at what they just saw. 

2/6/24 date written

[bokuroskitten]

᯽⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ BIG BEEFY MEN 😵‍💫

Ft. Bokuto, Taiju, Tengen, Toji, Osamu, Draken

Warnings: size kink x 1727292718, manhandling and lots of it, fem bodied reader, titles used: papa, daddy, sir, overstimulation, edging, implied age gap for toji’s part, mentions of creampie, slight exhibitionism for Osamu, drool, cute pet names like baby, princess, etc, only lightly edited my bad

Note: I had too much fun writing this YEJAJJS, like 😵‍💫, it also took me a while cause every time I would add another guy I would daydream for like a couple hours 🤤 this is multifandom cause there are just too many beefy men to go around, and honestly I could have added more (Daichi, Matsukawa, Todo, Mirio, Sakuna, Benkei… 😵‍💫😵‍💫) but then I’d be at this forever UWJAJ so take this, for now, <333 reblogs, comments and feedback are always greatly appreciated <3

Bokuto:

Bokuto who works out 6 days a week and still runs on the 7th 😔 he’s always working on his muscles, making sure he’s physically fit and always up to par for volleyball. Iwaizumi keeps him on a strict workout regime and he doesn’t mind that, considering it shows results and makes him feel good. You honestly don’t mind the schedule either, because you get to watch him pump bars over his head, muscles contracting and rippling, sweat dripping in beads along his toned chest. He’s a god really, with a build like that, and your eyes can’t help but stayed glued to him. It’s only when he clears his throat that you realize you’ve been caught, cheeks suddenly starting to burn as you snap your eyes away from his abs and up to his face. That smug look of his doesn’t help your embarrassment, making you bite your lip sheepishly. “Enjoyin the view, birdy?” He asks through a grin, and you don’t bother lying, you’ve been caught away so you nod, heart doing a little flip in your chest when he holds a hand out to you. You don’t hesitate to go to his side, allowing his hand to guide your own over the plane of his abs. Your fingertips trace the defined muscles there, despite how they still contract and sweat and you sigh softly, pupils basically in little heart shapes when you look back up at him. “You look so good, Koutarou….”

He’s got you laid out flat on his workout bench, clothes were haphazardly thrown across the padded flooring. Your slips hang open in a silent cry as he looms over you again, chest pressed right up to your back as his cock bullies its way to the hilt back into your gummy walls. His groan right next to your ear is almost overwhelming, his body swallowing you up and taking over all your senses as his hips hump up against your ass, pushing and pulling his cock shallowly in and out of you. When you let out a hiccuping sigh against the leather of the bench he chuckles softly, teeth grazing against your ear. “Liked bein stuffed like this, huh baby? Wanna be stuffed with cum too, don’t you?” You nod because the words don’t form, becoming lost on your tongue and replaced with whines as soon as Bokuto starts rotating his hips. One thick arm manages to slip underneath you and his palm rests open on your tummy, uncaring of the sweat and slick that makes everything a little messier. “Cum f’me.” His words vibrate against your back, his index finger managing to find your clit to add a steady pressure to the pulsing bud. You would have jolted, but you’re trapped beneath him, so all you can do is let out a shaky sob. “Cum f’papa and I’ll give you exactly what you want~”

Taiju:

Taiju is a busy man, running his successful restaurant was a full-time job that took up a lot of his time. And yet despite this, he always made time for his baby. He’d take you along to special events, and business meetings, but especially to suit fittings. You were the one that made him rekindle his relationship with Mitsuya, knowing that he would be the best person for the job in terms of making a suit that would actually fit Taiju’s size and stature. You claimed you went to talk to Mitsuya, which may have been part of the reason, but Taiju knew why you went along to every fitting. You got to see him almost naked, arms outstretched and shoulder blades contracting as Mitsuya took his proper measurements. He watched you through the full-length mirrors that covered the studio walls. How you’d press your thighs together, squirming in the chair you sat in. How your eyes would get glossy when he’d slip the brand new suit jacket on, testing the fit and how it would look perfect on his frame. The best is when he’d pull the suit pants on for the first time and your eyes were literally glued to his butt, lip bitten between your lips almost swollen. Mitsuya would leave the room as Taiju undressed into his normal clothes, and it’s only then that he’d scoff softly, eyes a bit narrowed as he finally catches your attention. “You’re so obvious.” He states, only making you fiddle with the hem of your skirt a bit more as you try to play innocent. “Staring at me like a piece of meat. Bet your panties are soaked through…”

As soon as the two of you got back to your shared home he’d have you pinned against a wall. If you had it your way you would’ve done it in the car, but Taiju wanted to make you wait and teased you the whole drive. Reminder you that only whores get that hot and bothered so easily, held your thigh in his big hand cause he knew it made you melt seeing how he could so easily grip the fat there. He picked you up at this point, your skirt bunched up at your waist and your panties ripped clean off. His hands gripped harshly to the fat of thighs, holding you up against the wall with nothing but strength as he used the force of gravity to fuck up into you. The slap of his hips was wet from how much you were dribbling, his eyes wide and feral as he watched your head lull back against the wall, a bit of drool leaving your lips that were stuck hung in a silent scream. He grins, lips littering sloppy kisses along your neck, uncaring of the marks he left behind. “Pretty lil dumb thing…” he murmurs, grinding his hips so his cock could thoroughly stir your insides. “This is all you think about, isn’t it? Getting fucked open by my big cock?” That caught your attention, nodding your head as your nails leave crescents into his shoulder. You’re mumbling “yes sir, yes Taiju” as his speed suddenly picks up, loving the feeling of your breasts bouncing against his chest. “Such a good girl.”

Tengen:

Tengen knows he’s attractive, he has 4 wives who all adore him, of course, he’s attractive. He also knows very that he’s built like a god, with muscles that bulge just right, flex and make him look even better. Sure, he got this way from hard work and dedication, but it helps too that he’s naturally flashy, with a good style and personality to go with his looks. He knows that people watch him, he knows that people flirt with him, and rather openly. Most of his wives have gotten used to this, but you? You’re a little newer, can’t help but be a bit protective and a lil insecure when it comes to your partner. So when you see two women flirting with him at a festival, something like jealousy flames within your belly. You can’t even help the way you get upset, lips twisting into a pout. It’s when one of the random women has the audacity to put her hand onto his bicep, giving it a squeeze that you lose it. You cling onto him, basically prying him away from their grimy hands and sending them a death glare in the process. The girls got the memo instantly, slinking away with grumbles and pouts of their own. To make matters worse Tengen is oblivious to it all. He was used to this, people hitting on him, but you acting like this? “What’s wrong?” He asks, the amusement in his tone only making you ten times angrier. Rather than explaining yourself you flip him off, an action that only fuels him further to get an answer out of you…

Your back is trembling against his chest, his fingers so lazily petting at your clit driving you absolutely wild but you can’t do anything about it. Your hands are trapped behind you between your bodies, bound by the silky material of the cord that usually holds his robe together. His cock somehow looks even bigger right now, stuffed within your quivering pussy and stretching it open. His base is covered already in a layer of your sheen that’s been steadily leaking out of you and yet he still hasn’t let you cum. You Yelp from the sudden impact of his fingertips against your swollen numb, fat tears finally spilling from your lashes and onto your hot cheeks. “Why would you ever need to be jealous, pretty? Ever?” He questions you again, fingers going back to slowly rolling your clit. You let out a soft sob, head lulling back into his broad chest as you try to buck your hips along his cock, only for his free hand to keep you firmly in place. “Don’t you know I picked you for a reason? Don’t you know I love you so, so much that I wanted you and only you to join the girls and me in our marriage?” His voice lowers as you start to flutter around his cock again, and his fingers start to speed up, finally. “Won’t ask ya again, tell me, do you know I love you?” You cry out, lips bit swollen as you tilt your head back enough to meet his gaze. He flashes you a smile, the first one you’ve gotten since the start of this punishment and you whimper, nodding dumbly. “I-I know, I-I know daddy, m’sorry, was bein dumb—“ He shushes you with his lips, finally moving his hips. He bucks them up into you, making your whole body bounce in his lap from the sheer size difference. “Not dumb, never dumb Darlin.. ya just forget sometimes…” The knot in your stomach finally snaps as he circles your clit, the squeeze of your pussy making his groan into your open mouth. “Just forget how perfect ya are f’me, that’s all.”

Toji:

Toji, big big Toji who knows very well that most ladies are attracted to him for his size. He likes to go for the little shy ones. The ones that stare at him with innocent eyes, look at him a little longer than they should and always manage to get caught. He’ll send you a wink, sometimes even wave playfully just to get you all the more embarrassed. His favourite type to go for though, as horrible as it is, are the girls his son is always bringing home. It’s a little fucked up, isn’t it? But Toji knows, knows that his son may try his best, but he can’t please a woman like he can, not yet anyway. So as his father, it’s his job to keep Megumi’s girls pleased when he can’t do so himself. He sees it as helping of course, surely the girl will stick with his son longer if she knows she’ll get a treat every time she comes over…

“Skirts shorter than usual…” Toji muses, his eyes lit up in amusement as his fingers brushed over the soft pleats found in the fabric. His hips are snapping back into your ass again just so your lips hang open, the start of a yelp about to escape had he not shoved the hem of the skirt between your lips. You muffle a whine into the material, fingers curling up against the wall you were currently pressed up against. “Musta wanted me to notice, isn’t that right dollface?” He says between a chuckle, his grin getting bigger as he gets a better grip on your hips, making you stick your ass out a bit more and arch your back for him. This angle allows his cock head to smack into your cervix, kissing it with the tip and threatening to break through. His balls are heavy as they slap against your skin, only adding to the lewd, wet slaps that echo from your cute pussy. He leans closer to your ear, whispering against the soft flesh when you let out a string of sobs about how you’re gunna cum. “Yea? Gunna cum for daddy are ya?” He laughs when you nod, teeth sinking into your shoulder as one thick hand slides over your hips to tease on your clit, helping you reach your high faster. “Go on, make sure you’re loud enough that your boyfriend knows his daddy is fucking you this good.”

Osamu:

Osamu has always been the bulkier of the two twins. Even in their volleyball days, his muscles weren’t as lean as Atsumu’s. He was built bigger, shoulders broader, the baby fat on his cheeks remaining longer. Now as an adult his muscles didn’t go away, oh no, he needs them to lift the heavy bags of rice to and from the restaurant, but he has certainly filled out. Shoulders spreading, biceps bulging. A light layer of fat forms over his chest, the muscles underneath just making him look bigger. The T-shirts he always wears show these off, and although he takes no mind to how his body has changed, you certainly have. It makes you drool when his arms flex as he quickly cuts up vegetables and when he grunts as he lifts a rice bag on his shoulder. The best is when he ties his apron around him, Accentuating just how small his waist still is despite how he’s broadened out. He doesn’t even realize how attractive he is, honestly. You can’t even help yourself when you gawk at him at work, and you certainly can’t help how heat pools between your legs. He starts to really notice when you pout up at him, pretty legs rubbing together on the stool you sit at…

“Couldn’t even wait until we got home.” He’s grumbling his words against your lips as if he’s not happy to have his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. “Too fuckin spoiled to wait.” He added, his reprimanding turning into a grunt when your nails run through his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp just the way he likes it. He latches onto your lower lip, suckling it like his favourite treat as his big hands grab at your thighs. He tenderly squeezes the flesh he loves before gripping it, easily hauling you up onto the countertop he was previously making food on. He’s thankful you’re wearing a skirt today because all it takes is one good tug and your panties are ripped clean off, exposing your dampened lower lips to him and making goosebumps rise on your lips. He clicks his tongue when you start to complain about how those were your favourite pair, one of his palms pressing into your tummy to easily push you back into the cold countertop. “Quit yer bitchin, I’ll get a new pair.” You were about to shoot back, but all your words get lost on your tongue when he spits onto your pussy, two thick fingers locked in and rubbing on your clit. A smirk twitches on his lips, shaking his head as he watches just how easily you come undone for him. He presses a kiss to your hip bone. “That’s it, be a good girl and take what you want, gunna fuck ya real good.”

Draken:

we all know I could go on for hours about Draken 😔 I mean do you blame me? He’s huge, the biggest of all his friends in both height and build. He’s always been naturally big, the width of his shoulders sometimes making it hard for him to find proper attire that fits him comfortably. Hence why he settles for tank tops a lot, which gives him more space to breathe. Would never admit it out loud but he 100% is very aware when you’re checking him out and he LOVES it. Draken doesn’t like to flaunt himself but when you do it it’s different. Makes his cheeks heat up a bit and his cock twitch knowing how damn lucky he is to have someone as pretty as you obsessed with him like that. So he’ll let you stare, whether it be while he’s working at the shop, working out, or simply when the two of you are out. He’ll let your eyes linger on him, sometimes he’ll even flex on purpose, holding back laughter when you suck in a sharper breath. He will tease you about it, sometimes of course cause he can’t even help himself. He’ll turn and smirk at you, “like what you see, princess?” Or “my eyes are up here, goofy.” But comments like that always leave you in a huff and he’ll have to chase you after to make up for it. Which is fine, but sometimes, he lets you linger, lets you really stare and get yourself worked up, cause that’s when you’ll pounce him. You have such little patience, and it’s so so amusing to your big boyfriend when you try to drag his ass around to get what you desire from him…

As soon as the two of you had returned home from your date you had dragged Draken to the couch, not even bothering to bring him to the bedroom because it had been far too long and you were craving him already. He had worn that tank top you love so much, with the low-cut armholes that show off his toned sides and arms. You just couldn’t take it. You needed to have him. Which is how you ended up straddling his lap, needy whines leaving your lips as your fingers desperately tried to unbuckle his belt, simply settling for pawing at his crotch when you couldn’t seem to get it. He’s grinning, holding back little strings of laughter. “Eager huh?” Normally you would have snapped back at a comment like that, but when his fingers finally freed his cock, you simply sighed in contentment, licking your lips at how it stood at attention, leaking so pretty just for you to sit on. You had already discarded your bottoms, lifting yourself on your hunches and easing yourself easily onto his cock. The stretch was always mind-numbing, back arching and goosebumps forming on your thighs as you slowly work your way over him. The little whimpers, whines, needy noises you made were a melody to Draken’s ears, his hands massaging the supple skin of your thighs as you moved at your own pace. He groaned softly when your pussy started to flutter around him already, your walls being stubborn as usual when first taking him in. “Fuck—“ he gritted out, pupils dilating when you looked at him with teary eyes, lips puffy as you huffed. “Help me, Ken, want all of you.” His hands slid from your thighs to your waist, bearing his teeth in an amused grin as he lifted you up with ease, just enough that his head sat between your walls. He didn’t hesitate when he slammed you back down on his cock, sheathing all the way on his cock, the knock of it up against your cervix making your breath leave you in a gasp. He doesn’t let up from there, using the bruising grip he has on your love handles to bounce you up and down on his cock. “So. Fucking. Needy— and you can’t even take what you want on your own? Really are just a dumb lil baby aren’t you, princess?” You’re sobbing from the brutal pace, head lulling onto his shoulder as he bounces you like you’re nothing. And to him, it’s a simple task, the pleasure of the pretty tight walls milking his cock only making it easier for him to manhandle you. “Fuck—“ he grins, planting his feet so his hips can fuck up into you, further jolting you along his cock. “You just sit pretty, daddy will do all the work—“

Property of bokuroskitten™️ DO NOT COPY/TAKE/TRANSLATE ONTO ANY OTHER PLATFORM⁉️

Member of: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork

[maybank-archives]

sweet touch - jj maybank

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

warning: minors DNI! NSFW, smut, virginity loss, praise-ish talk, sexual content overall. words count: 1.6k author’s notes:  i'm back!!! part 2 to sweet desire is finally out! you can find part one here but you can totally read this by its own. it's a bit long because as usual i got carried away with the context. :) also happy birthday rudy!

masterlist :)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

JJ holds my hand tightly as we enter the chateau quietly, the moment that we step into his bedroom, he locks the door pressing our bodies on the wall. His tongue slips through my parted lips and fills my mouth, I wrap my arms around his neck and eagerly return the kiss, the way his hands are pulling me close to him triggers an instant feeling of arousal that spirals to my core.

He reaches down and cups my ass, he breaks the kiss breathlessly. “Is that too much?.” he asks, staring at me, my only response is to shake my head.

“You can stop me any time.” His expression is serious.

“I-i don’t want you to stop.” I whisper, he grins at my response pressing my lower body to his.

It’s true, it’s a night of firsts to me but I feel my body hot and desperate for JJ.

Plus, I’m good. I'm not saving myself for the love of my life or something like that, sex could be a big event for some people, but personally, I’m just doing what feels good, and God, this feels awesome.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.” he growls against my neck planting wet kisses at every spot. “you’re so hot.”

The tension between my legs grows and grows until I’m shamelessly grinding against his thigh in a desperate attempt to ease the desire.

“JJ.” I moaned under my breath involuntarily.

“Yes, cupcake,” he replies without lifting his gaze, his mouth exploring every inch of my neck while his hands are busy grabbing my body eagerly.

“Take my clothes off…please.” he froze for a second, lifting his eyes with a smirk on his face.

“Since you insist.” He comes closer to me, slowly lifting my shirt, as soon as my top goes through my head, his eyes fall into my breast, "fucking beautiful." he grabs my waist and guides me to the bed, my calves bump the edge of the bed frame.

“Lie back, beautiful.” JJ demands, I do as he says and fall back on my elbows.

I watch JJ take my pants off whilst staring at my body only in lingerie. It’s like he’s scanning every part of me to keep on his memory. He kneels in between my legs on the floor, his fingers reach my bra and tug to the side exposing my nipples.

I close my eyes feeling his warm breath on my skin, he flicks his tongue over one nipple, pushing my breast deeper in his mouth, I whimper in response, JJ squeezes the other one before releasing my nipple with a wet sound. He placed his hands on my thighs. “You okay?” I nod wordlessly.

He lowers himself, licking his lips as he watches me spreading my legs and pushing my panties off, he swallows as he could taste me already. “Fuck.” he groans squeezing my thighs. He slowly runs his finger into my folds, teasing my clit. His finger comes back wet, he smirks once again before bringing his mouth to my pussy. My eyes get shut immediately.

His tongue travels down from my slit to my opening nonstop, he licks his way back to my swollen clit flicking his tongue against it, my moans become more desperate just like my hips as it keeps rocking as he teases me.

JJ finally eases the tip of his index finger inside me, I let out a throaty cry

“Good baby?” He murmurs, gazing up at me.

“Mmm-hmmm”

JJ’s strokes are slow, his tongue is now tracing circles on my clit as his fingers inch deeper into me. He gets up without taking his finger inside me. “You’re so tight princess and, God…so wet,” he murmurs as he slowly brings his finger to his mouth, licking them. “I could keep tasting you all night baby girl.”

That’s it. I couldn’t be more horny.

As he gets up on his knees, I can’t help to notice the bulge marked on his pants, he takes his shirt and pants promptly. I saw JJ shirtless all the time and it’s always breathtaking, but this time it’s different.

“Um, J?.” I asked

“Yes, baby girl?

“Can I?” I blurred the words staring at his crotch.

“As much as I would love this, I think tonight is all about you y/n.” he approaches me

It’s inevitable to not ask for it. What’s happening to me?

“Please?” I insisted, sitting on the edge of the bed

“Fuck Y/N, are you trying to make me come right now?” he asks, grabbing my chin “You don’t have to do this.” He whispered pecking my lips

“I know”

I adjust myself sitting on my knees, my fingernails reaching right under the waistband, he brings his hands closer to mine pushing his underwear off, my hands go to feel his thighs and abs and they slide until I take his cock in my hand.

JJ hisses softly when I start moving my hand in firm strokes. I leaned forward moving my mouth closer, I tasted the precum on the tip of his cock. JJ hums in approval, I could see him trying to keep his balance standing.

The movements started slow, it was probably like teasing for JJ, my free hand reached for his balls massaging them softly, as I started to pick up the rhythm, my mouth took him further, hollowing my cheeks and fluttering my tongue against him, his hips began to twitch.

“You are doing s’good baby.” JJ praises, placing his hand on the back of my head.

It felt intoxicating, I lifted my head almost entirely off him and sucked vigorously on the tip until he was writhing, I kept taking his cock as far into my mouth as I could, swallowing around him. Each time his length was close to my throat JJ let out a curse between his lips.

“Oh fuck.” He growled as I moved. The wet sounds of my mouth around his cock filled the room, along with the heavy breathing and his quiet groans which were growing louder by the second.

“Let me cum inside you baby girl, I won’t last with this pretty mouth around me.” JJ says lowering himself, smashing his lips against mine, our tongues clashing exploring each other eagerly.

He climbs on top of my body, forcing me to adjust myself on the bed. He reaches for a condom in his drawer, rolling it down effortlessly the length of his shaft. I swallow hard, preparing myself mentally.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks spreading my legs open

“Yes.” I replied, breathing my nervousness away.

His features are serious as he brings his erection to my opening. He slides forward, and I tense involuntarily. He puts just the tip and I can feel the pressure. His cock is a lot thicker than the one finger he’d just had inside me. “Are you okay?” His voice is husky with a tone of concern

“Yes.” I say again

JJ tries to stay still, I can see him trying to control himself, It’s a weird sensation, but not completely unpleasant.

“I’m going to let you get used to it, k?” He says adjusting himself without making harsh movements.

“I’m good, Y-you can go faster,” I say

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl.”

“J….” I said looking up at him with doe eyes

“You look so even hotter when you beg.”

The pain is starting to turn into anticipation, JJ keeps his strokes slow without thrusting all of his length but as he reads my mind he brings his hand to my clit, massaging it helping ease the tension. I can resist lifting my hips moving close to him.

“You are taking me so well baby.” he croaks “Can you handle more? he asks receiving a nod in response.

“I need words, baby.”

“Yes J.”

“Good girl”

He takes his hands off my clit, making me whimper, but my disappointment is replaced by a wave of pleasure as he holds my waist while his erection inches out, slightly, then glides back in.

A gasp escapes my lips.

“Do that again, please.”

JJ gives me a small chuckle as he repeats his moves. His mouth finds mine in a tender kiss, and then his hips begin to move faster. I hold on tight, digging my fingers into his strong back. He sinks his hands to the side deepening the contact.

“God, you feel amazing.” JJ moans

He fills me, over and over again, each long stroke intensifying the ache inside me, my skin is hot. I need more. My clit is swollen, throbbing. JJ slides his fingers again in between my legs, giving me extra stimulation which feels amazing.

“Y-yes J, don't stop please.”

“I won’t baby, I want you to come for me, you’ve done so well.”

As he increases the pace, snapping his hips forward, his cock hits the spot deep inside, my mouth goes dry with saliva with the sensation.

“J..I-i’m gonna cum.” I arch my spine and slam my eyes shut, biting my lips containing the urge to moan loudly, my body shivered with ecstasy as JJ kept rubbing my clit. I whine with the familiar feeling of lust filling me.

“Oh fuck” he curses slamming on more time, his body slows as he grunts in a release.

His forehead is covered in sweat, his body collides by my side as we both breathe heavily.

“That was amazing,” JJ whispers “Are you ok?.”

“Oh my God, yes,” I reply, trying to control my breath.

“I guess there’s a list of others first for you right baby?.” JJ stares at me with a lazy smirk on his face.

You chuckle at his comment "Yes Maybank, will you help me with those too?"

"When can we start?."

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© maybank-archives 2023 — no one has permission to copy or translate any of my works, if you see any of my work being reproduced in another platform please contact me! :)

[kaeyazuha]

“I need to get you warm. I know you’re tired, but I can’t let you sleep, okay? Just stay with me, stay with me—” + Romantic with Tighnari (happy ending? Maybe?)

Also the amount of angst in the list is astronomical and I'm all for it ✋

Thank you sm!! Feel free to ignore 💚

; Sorry for the wait, I hope you like it!

; 11/24/22

; Angst-ish/Ambiguous Ending

; CW: blood/injury mentions and descriptions, cursing

It’s cold.

The sun burned your eyes, feeling like hot coals sinking into your skin; yet, you felt cold under its light. Mustering what little strength you had left, you looked upwards towards the cliff’s edge that seemed to taunt you. It appeared sturdy, but the lush grass and lovely flowers acted as a diversion as the unsteady rock collapsed and left your weight to gravity’s will, and left you to fall freely into the wind that once caressed your skin so gently.

You almost wanted to laugh at this turn of events had it not been for the crushing pain in your chest, and the uncomfortable stick of your own blood against your back. Tighnari had previously asked you to refill his medicinal herbs as he attended to patients back in his hut, and you happily obliged. He just needed a few lunar lotus’, but you found yourself wandering in the fields- you were here, it was here, why not find some more flowers?

What an idiot.

You mentally chided yourself, finding nothing else to do as you found yourself unable to move. Your spine was on fire, every pitiful cough tasted like blood, and the uncomfortable numbness in your legs rendered you too terrified to look down. For a while, you looked for ways to get back. To call for help. To do anything but lay here and feel sorry for yourself. But alas, nature laughed at you once more when your phone lay useless several feet away from your unmoving hands. At this point, when the moon slowly overtook the sun and the clouds floated freely amidst the moonlight, you couldn’t help but cry. Cry at the pain, at the utter hopelessness you felt, from the anger that bubbled in your heart, and at the prospect that you might not go home tonight; or ever, really.

“(Y/N)!!” Your ears perked up. “(Y/N)!!” There it was again, and you forced yourself to turn your head towards the sound of the familiar voice. However, you came to regret that decision when your vision started to fade to black. Perhaps from the blood loss, or perhaps from the sheer relief that came from seeing those familiar ears perking over the bushes. The familiarity of the situation brought a smile to your face.

“Down here,” You rasped. “You big lummox…”

It was a shame you passed out just then, for you missed the most heartbreaking cry from your lover. He choked back a scream, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation at all. Instead, he tripped over himself trying to safely slide down the cliff to you. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he mentally noted that you would be laughing your ass off at the faceful of grass he just took on a normal day-- and that thought only made him panic more. The sight of you laying in a crimson pool forced a pit into his stomach, but he persevered nonetheless. “Collei, down here!” Tighnari yelled out as he tucked his arms under your legs in order to hoist you onto his back, as it was easier and safer to carry you this way.

She tossed the rope ladder over the side of the cliff, ensuring it was secure before giving him the go-ahead. “Are they alright?!” She inquired, gnawing on her lower lip while watching him climb the ladder one-handed (he used his tail for extra balance). 

Immediately starting the trek back to his hut, Tighnari glanced back at you who laid almost lifelessly upon his shoulder. “Archons, I hope so."

Somewhere along the walk, you came to. The gentle smell of essential oils, spices, and pressed flowers mixed with the iron-laced scent of your blood and you wrinkled your nose at the unflattering combo. “Tighnari…?” You felt him flinch as he held you, and he turned around so fast it almost scared you.

“(Y/N).” He breathed out, clearly relieved, but his breath hitched again when he saw your eyes start to drift once more. “I need to get you warm. I know you’re tired, but I can’t let you sleep, okay?” You tried to nod, but found his voice sounding farther and farther away with every second that passed. “Just stay with me, stay with me—” But you were already out, head falling limp against his shoulder once more.

“Damn it, come on-” If possible, he walked faster, and faster, until his legs hurt- he felt you pressing into his still-sore lightning wound, sweat caused his clothes to uncomfortably stick to his skin, but hell if he cared. Collei followed somewhere behind him, but he trusted her to make it back fine. Right now, he was more focused on you. His heart raced in a panic when he could no longer feel your stuttered breaths against his back, when his shoulder started feeling cold where your head rested. But, his shoulders slumped a bit at the relief of seeing the familiar statue of the seven, he was almost there. “(Y/N),” He muttered, a weary smile on his lips. 

“We’re home.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Word Count: 879

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

- Ky♡♡

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧; 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗷𝗼𝗶𝗻!

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@storytravelled  ; @euphoric-author ; @lordbugs ; @straymoon96 ;  @hoshikistarlette ; @lianglee11 ; @sup-zfam ; @myaaki ; @roriver ; @rizakari ; @httpshaolvr ; @leena-shii ; @kaerui-kaisen ; @akaiyuki ; @marigold-petals ; @frenchtoaf ; @nejibot ; @fijispritee ; @kissventii ; @ethereal-moonglow ; @alexsteev ; @trashfox ; @twilyshy ; @kazuhatiny ​​

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter fifty four

close to home | chapter fifty four

plot: the reader meets Justin, and finally figures out what's been bothering Daryl

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 3,027 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, explicit sexual content A/N: thank you for reading!!!

After sleeping in a little bit due to the alcohol, you spent the rest of your day with Frankie and Rosita, helping around the Sanctuary like you’d spent the last few days. It was like a repetition of events. But you got word from Daryl in the middle of the day; Rick agreed to the run, and you’d meet a group at the rendezvous point at dawn—something you did not want to think about. 

You were in the middle of helping Rosita carry in supplies when you saw the message on the way. The Saviors were right. Your stomach sank into its anxiety, and you glanced at Rosita, who had an angry look on her face. 

“They’ve been popping up more and more.” She whispered to you. 

“It’s the first one I’ve seen so far,” You said, setting the basket down. “You think it’s safe here?”

“What other choice do we have? We can’t exactly just leave.” 

You looked back at the writing on the wall, frowning. You hoped Daryl didn’t see it. He was doing an incredible job running the compound; you didn’t want him to see this. But Rosita said they’ve been popping up, and you knew Daryl knew. Why hadn’t he said anything?

“Hey, I know you.” 

Both you and Rosita turned to the man who approached you. It was Justin, a man you had the displeasure of meeting a while back with Sherry--who told you to stay away. While he wasn’t one of Negan’s direct men, he could’ve been if he wasn’t such an asshole. And that was saying something, according to Sherry. 

“What was it like, fucking the big man?” Justin asked you, earning a few snickers from the guys behind him. 

“Fuck you,” Rosita said. “Don’t you got anything better to do?”

Justin looked back at his friends and then at you. “So, do you just hop from leader to leader? First Negan, now Daryl… if I take him out and take over this place, does that mean you get to warm my bed-.”

Your hand smacked against his cheek, stinging your palm to your fingertips. The red mark on Justin’s face appeared immediately, and his eyes turned to you angrily, but he smirked. 

You grabbed Rosita’s arm, “Come on.”

You both turned to walk away, and you’d only taken a few steps before you felt Justin’s hand grab your ass. 

“Hey!” Rosita yelled before you could even blink. “Don’t you ever touch her like that!”

Justin only smirked again and sent you a wink before he walked away with his friends, laughing. You shook your head angrily and pictured a thousand ways to kill the man, but you restrained yourself. 

“You okay?” She asked you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You let out all your anger in one long breath. “I wanna go eat.”

***

Daryl never showed up for dinner, which wasn’t unusual, so you didn’t worry about him. But you brought a container up for him, knowing he probably forgot to eat. He wasn’t in the room when you got there, but you knew he had been cause his vest and crossbow were at the foot of the bed. 

Which only met one thing. 

You grabbed a towel from the closet and headed towards the showers, which, to your luck, were primarily private. The only ones who took a room on the wife's floor were Frankie, Amber, Tanya, Rosita, and Eugene. 

Water was running when you pushed the door open. Negan must’ve remodeled the room when he took over because while it had stalls, a few were converted into showers with pipes running along the ceiling. 

“Hey, old man,” You said, walking towards the stall he usually showered in. “Has hell frozen over?”

You heard him snort, and you smiled as you started to undress. “I brought you dinner; it’s in the fridge. Why didn’t you invite me?” Showering together was new, and it only started in the past month or so. Daryl didn’t want to at first, but the thought of you being naked in there with him was enough for him to push back his insecurities. 

“Figured ya come lookin’ for me,” Daryl said as he opened the door. 

Your gaze dropped momentarily, admiring the man you loved, before he grabbed your arm and pulled you under the cold water. You yelped and immediately moved away. “I miss the hot showers from Alexandria.” 

Daryl nodded in agreement and handed you soap. 

It was quiet momentarily while you lathered your hair, feeling Daryl’s gaze the entire time. “You’ve been staring at me since I got here. Is there something you wanna say?” You asked. 

He shook his head and looked away, blushing, which made you smile. You stepped into the water to wash out the soap and then felt Daryl’s hands at your waist. He pressed a few kisses on the back of your shoulder. 

“You okay?”

He nodded and kissed your cheek before stepping away to let you finish. You thought about what happened earlier as you washed out the rest of the soap in your hair. “You know the guy Justin?”

“What ‘bout him?”

“Has he given you any trouble?” You asked, turning around and looking at him. 

He squinted, and you could see anger cross his features. “What he do to ya?”

“He made a comment--hand me that.” You said, pointing to body soap. When it was in your hand, you continued. “He made a comment about me and Negan. And insinuated that I just fucked any leader this place had.”

When you glanced at Daryl, he was glaring and biting his lip. “Then he said that if he became the leader, well, I’m sure you can imagine what he said about that.”

“What else?”

You chewed on your lip as you rinsed off the soap on your legs. “He grabbed my ass.”

“I’ll kill him.”

You grabbed Daryl’s arm and pulled him away from the stall door. “Don’t. Things are already complicated. I just wanted to tell you… I don’t feel safe around him.” 

Daryl’s face softened, and he brought you into a hug. “‘M sorry I wasn’t there.”

You nodded slowly, not because you agreed or thought he owed you an apology, but because you knew he needed to say one. So you pressed your cheek against his wet chest and hugged him tightly. 

“Ya don’ wanna be with anyone else, right?”

You shook your head slowly when you looked up at Daryl, with his wet hair pushed back and all his tattoos. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Need to hear it today.”

You grabbed his face with your hands and stood on your toes so you could better kiss his lips. “You’re the only person I want, and have wanted, in a really long time.”

He nodded, putting his forehead against your shoulder, and you hugged him. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Lot on my mind.”

You reached over and shut the water off. “Let’s go back to our room, and we can talk about what’s on your mind.”

You grabbed his towel and handed it to him before wrapping yours around you. After grabbing your clothes from the floor, you followed Daryl out of the bathroom and down the hall to your room, where you quickly got dressed in one of Daryl’s shirts and then braided your wet hair back. 

He called your name as you finished, and you walked over to where he sat at the edge of the bed. His hands grabbed your waist, and he pulled you closer so he was hugging your lower torso. You set your hands on his shoulders and rubbed them gently. You frowned as you looked down at him, worried. 

“I love you,” You told him. 

Daryl looked up at you with a tired smile, and you felt terrible for how exhausted he was. You wished you could do more for him, but you didn’t know what you could do. 

“I love ya more,” He said. 

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. You felt his hands drop around your waist, and you could tell he wanted to say something but couldn’t get his words out. Finally, he tugged at your shirt, and you knew what he wanted. 

“We have to be up early,” You said, moving to sit down on his lap. “We’ll be exhausted tomorrow.”

“Ain’ nothin’ new,” He ran his hands down your arms. “I need to feel close to ya right now.”

You nodded and pressed your lips against his, kissing him slowly. You didn’t care if you had to be up early. You didn’t care about a damn thing except making him feel loved, cared for, and wanted. Daryl was always so strong, and only with you did he let himself crumble. 

You wanted nothing in the world more than to make him feel better. And the fact that this was how he wanted it, wanted you, you would never deny him of that. You wanted it just as badly. 

Goosebumps rose on your skin when you felt his fingertips trail up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. Your slow kiss ended for the time it took him to rid you of the shirt. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he stood up, bringing you with him. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he turned and laid you gently across the bed. 

“I love you,” You reminded him, watching as he took off his bottoms before shutting off the light. 

Your hands gripped his biceps as he positioned himself over you, and you spread your legs for him as wide as you could. 

“I want ya,” He whispered against your neck.

You hummed in agreement when you felt his cock rub against you. “I want you, too.” 

He shook his head briefly and started to say something but cut himself off. You wanted to ask him what was wrong but knew giving him time to be in this moment would be better. He would tell you after, you knew it. 

Daryl kissed you again, his lips moving slowly against yours. His tongue traced your bottom lip lightly, and he brought his hips down again, rubbing himself against you. You had to suppress every moan each time you felt his tip rub against your clit. 

“So wet,” You heard him mumble, “Ya so fuckin’ wet already.”

“For you,” You moaned when you felt his tip again. “For you, Daryl.”

“I wanna fuck ya now, okay?”

You nodded and threaded your fingers through his hair, making him look at you. “Yes, honey.”

Daryl adjusted and looked back up at you as he slowly thrust into you. You moaned, your eyes still locked onto his. It was possibly one of the most intimate moments the two of you ever shared, and you felt tears burn through your eyes. 

“Keep lookin’ at me,” Daryl said. 

You nodded, biting your lip and forcing yourself not to close your eyes when he pulled out and thrust back in so slowly that you knew it would have you go crazy in seconds. But staring into his eyes was like your lifeline, and your heart beat erratically. It made you tremble with each thrust. 

The way he stared at you with so much emotion written across his face. He moved in and out, connecting and re-connecting your bodies in a way you’d never experienced before. This was on an entirely new level. It was something so intimate, so passionate, you wanted to live in it forever. 

“Don’ close ya eyes,” He reminded you. You hadn’t realized they’d fallen shut. 

“Daryl…” You moaned. 

“Tell me.”

You ran your hands down his broad shoulders and around his upper chest. “It feels so good… God, I love it. I love you.”

“What else?”

“I never want it to stop,” You brought your legs up around his waist as he thrust in, causing him to push deeper than before. “Fuck, Daryl, you feel so good…” You felt like you were about to cry from the pleasure. 

“Open those pretty eyes, (Y/N).”

Your eyes shut open and met his. He was looking at you so deeply, so lovingly, and the tip of his cock was hitting in that one spot that could make you start screaming if he was going faster. But this slow pace was driving you insane. 

“I love ya,” He whispered to you. 

You moaned, his words going straight to your core. “I love you too.”

His head dropped down to your forehead, and his hips quicked their pace but half a second. His nose bumped against yours every time he thrust, and you placed your hands on either side of his face and closed your eyes. “I want you, Daryl Dixon. Every morning and every night. Don’t doubt that.”

You heard him mumble something, but his voice was too rough, too full of breathlessness that you couldn’t hear. Then he spoke louder, “Marry me, (Y/N).” 

Your eyes opened wide as he thrust into you again, this time harder than before. 

“Marry me,” He pushed into you harder. “(Y/N)...” He moaned your name and thrust harder and quicker. “I wanna call ya my wife.” Harder. Quicker. You felt yourself clench around him, and you started moaning too loudly. “Fuck, please, don’ make me beg for ya hand.” 

He was pounding into you now, and the headboard slammed against the wall. Your mind was processing everything he said, but you lost all ability to speak each time he slammed into you. He’d never fucked you this hard, this desperate before. 

“Fuck it, I’ll do it. I’ll beg ya for anything,” Daryl groaned as he lifted his head to look into your eyes. “Marry me, please? Please…please…please…” 

You nodded because you couldn’t find the words, and then he fucked you even harder, and you reached up to steady yourself on the headboard. Everything was a combination of pain and pleasure, mixing to create a perfect balance that had you shaking underneath him. 

“Need to hear ya say it,” Daryl said. 

You nodded again and squirmed underneath him, feeling your orgasm coming quicker than expected. “Yes, Daryl, yes… fuck, yes…yes.” You tightened your legs around his waist, hips aching as your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You couldn’t stop moaning so loud, and you were shaking too hard to cover your mouth. 

You heard Daryl swear, and then you felt him cum inside you. 

“Don’t stop,” You nearly yelled, “Don’t fucking stop.”

While his moments were sloppy, he gave you every ounce of you. He fucked you quick and hard until you knew he was utterly spent, and collapsed on top of you. Your hands shook as your high finally settled, and you winced when you let your legs drop down to the bed to relax. 

Your entire body was shaking underneath him, and you couldn’t stop. Your pussy was aching, and you knew you’d have bruises around there, but it was the last thing you were worried about. 

Slowly, Daryl slid out from you, and you nearly cried out in pain. 

“Fuck, ‘m sorry, are ya okay?” He asked you, grabbing your chin and making you look at him. 

“Did you mean it?” You asked. 

Daryl bit his bottom lip before nodding. “Can’ stop thinkin’ ‘bout it. Did ya?”

You nodded, blinking back a few tears. “Yes.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief and kissed you. Then he was gone, and you winced when the lamp next to the bed flicked on. You grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed and covered yourself, wincing each time you moved your hips. 

Daryl dug through his nightstand, and you moved closer, rubbing your hand on his back. “What are you doing?”

“Made ya somethin’.”

The drawer closed, and he turned around, moving to sit against the headboard. You followed his lead, leaned against his chest, and watched as he showed you what was in the palm of his hand.

“You made this?” You asked, picking up the ring. It was a dark metal, almost black. It was a simple band, and in his messy handwriting were a DD and your initials on the inside, but instead of the first letter of your last name, it was his. “Daryl…”

“I can find ya something’ else…” His voice trailed off. 

“No!” You yelled, closing the ring in your hand and keeping it away from his outstretched hand. “Don’t you dare, Dixon.” 

“Ya like it?”

“Are you kidding?” You sat up and looked at him. “This is the most incredible, most beautiful…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the ring. It was imperfect; the band was a little crooked, and one spot was a little thinner than the others. But it was perfect.

Daryl took the ring out of your hand and grabbed your left hand, sliding it down your ring finger. The metal was heavier than you expected, and you smiled at your hand. 

“Daryl Dixon… I hope you know that no one will ever be better than you,” You looked back at him and smiled. “Am I supposed to make you one now?”

He chuckled and showed you his other hand around your shoulders. An identical ring for him. You blinked back tears and took it from his hand before sitting on his lap. You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him for a long few seconds. 

“I love you, I love you so much,” You mumbled against his lips. “I don’t know how nobody else grabbed you while they could.”

“Never wanted anyone till ya,” He told you. 

Your heart melted, and you grabbed his hand, sliding the matching ring on his finger. “If I wasn’t so sore right now, I would fuck you again just for this.”

Your comment made Daryl laugh, loudly, which you so rarely heard him do. You smiled and looked up at him, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The best thing I got from this shitty world.” You told him. 

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Ya the best thing that ever happen’ to me.”

[holylulusworld]

Auction of love

Summary: Your friend talks you into being part of a charity auction.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Plussized!Omega Reader

Warnings: angst, insecurities, low self-esteem, chubby/plussized reader, a/b/o, scenting, true mates, love-struck Dean,a hint of fluff, tension

“Mel, no. You know I hate big parties and events,” you whine. Your friend wants you to join a charity auction. “I’d rather go home, have a glass of wine, and watch my favorite show.”

“Y/N, we need you. All of us agreed to join the auction. Come on.” She nudges your side. “You bought this sexy dress and killer heels for a reason. I know the alphas will go crazy when you get on that stage wearing the dress.”

You shake your head. Mel is your friend, and she means well. Sadly, she doesn’t know how it feels to you to get on a stage to show your body to men bidding on omegas. You’re not slim and pretty like her.

“I don’t want to. Just look at me. I'm twice your size,” you sniff. “Mel, they will judge my body.”

“You’re beautiful. I love your boobs and ass. Don’t sell yourself short, babe. Let’s get you all dolled up. I bet you’ll get the highest bid.”

Nodding you give in. You know better than to believe one of the alphas will bid more than a few bugs to spend an evening with you. But you don’t want to disappoint Mel. If you can at least help raise the fund with a few bucks, you’ll get on that stage.

Even though, you hate standing in the spotlight.

“Five hundred.” 

You watch the alphas fight over your best friend Mel. She smiles sweetly and winks at the alphas. Mel looks like she belongs on a stage, and maybe she does. 

“Six hundred,” another alpha lifts his paddle. 

“Eight hundred.” The next one barks. It looks like he’s about to jump at the other alphas.

“One thousand.”

You sigh deeply. All the alphas are bidding on your friend, fighting over her.

“Two thousand.” Mel sucks in a breath as the next alpha raises from his seat. “For the pretty lady, I want to have dinner with.”

“Do I hear more?” Your boss asks. She plays the auctioneer tonight and grins as the alphas grumble under their breath. “Gentlemen, remember. It’s for the orphans. We want to support the local orphanage.”

“Three thousand!” 

“Alright, gentlemen. Going once,” your boss says. She lifts the hammer while looking around the room. “Going twice.”

The alphas shake their heads. No one will bid more than three thousand bucks for a date. You never thought any guy would pay so much money for a date.

“Going thrice,” she slams the hammer down. “Sold to the gentleman with the lucky number seven. Congratulations.”

Mel grins and gives you a wink. She mouths your name, hoping to encourage you.

It’s no use. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, and your legs wobble when you walk on the stage. All eyes are suddenly on you, and it feels like the alphas staring up at you, are there to judge your appearance from head to toe.

“Alright, gentlemen. One of you already got lucky with our charming Mel. Now we have Y/N. She’s smart, funny, and speaks six languages. Our lovely lady bakes pie to die for, knows how to repair a car and, she’s my best employee.”

Your boss gives you an encouraging smile. Jody nods as you nervously shift on your feet. The heels are killing you, and the dress uncomfortably sticks to your body. 

“We start with one hundred dollars.” 

Silence greets you. 

Your boss clears her throat and taps the microphone with her index finger to check if its working. “Gentlemen, you must bid if you want to spend the evening with this lovely lady.”

Your heart drops. No one is going to bid for you. If only you listened to your gut instinct, you wouldn’t stand on a stage, making a fool out of yourself.

Jody looks around the room again. She can’t believe no one is bidding for you. 

“Gentlemen, we are waiting for you. Doesn’t she look lovely in this dress?” she gets nervous. Jody and Mel talked you into getting on the stage and now, no one is bidding for you.

“Jody, no one is going to bid for me,” you whisper. “Can I go? I think the other ladies are waiting behind the stage. Let’s just…”

“Ten thousand!” Jody gasps watching a tall alpha step toward the stage. He looks you up and down, licking his lips. “No. Wait.”

You sigh. For one moment you believed someone bid for you only to realize he tried to be funny.

“I think this sweetheart is worth fifteen thousand and more,” he flashes you a cocky grin. “Gentlemen, your loss. I’ll make sure this pretty lady will have the best date of her life.”

“What? I-“ you stammer. 

“Uh-going once, twice, and,” Jody looks at the other alphas one last time, “thrice. Our lovely Y/N goes to number sixty-seven.”

“Awesome,” the alpha exclaims as you hurriedly walk toward the back of the stage.

Your heart is pounding wildly. This must be a dream.

“BABE! FIFTEEN THOUSAND BUCKS FOR YOUR CUTE ASS!” Mel squeals. She jumps up and down, giggling as you just stare at her with wide eyes. 

“I think he tried to be funny,” you tut. “Do you honestly believe any guy would pay fifteen-thousand bucks for a date with me?”

“Of course, babe. Look at you!” She clicks her tongue. “No more self-doubts, Y/N. That guy pays a fucking lot of money for a date with you.”

“Still, this smells like a hoax.” You don’t believe for one second that the man will pay the money to go out with you.

“There you are,” the alpha bidding on you pants heavily. “Alright. I paid the money to the auctioneer. Where do we wanna go?”

“What? Now…I—” You stare at the cocky alpha. He’s the most attractive guy you ever saw outside of magazines and movies and your heart starts to flutter.

“What do you want to eat? I love me some good food.” You can’t react or talk. All you are capable of is watching the alpha step closer. 

He’s at least six feet tall, maybe even taller. Shit, he’s naturally built and muscular, with gorgeous green eyes. Calling him handsome would be an understatement. 

“I like food too,” you finally say. 

“Great. So,” he smirks. “Now that I know that you like food too, we can get to the point where you tell me what you like to eat.” 

“Maybe you could tell me your name first.”

“Crap, yes. Uh—sorry sweetheart,” he chuckles and holds out his hand. “Name’s Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Nice to meet you Dean,” you say before you can shy away. You shake his hand and smile at him. “Why did you pay so much money for me? I mean… there are more beautiful girls in the back. You should’ve waited.”

“Let me stop you right there, Y/N. I bid on you because I wanted to have a date with you. Not your friend, or any other woman. It was you who picked my interest.”

“Why?”

He cocks his head at your question. “Sweetheart, have you seen and smelled yourself? I can barely think straight since I saw you walk around in that dress. If I wasn’t a gentleman, your dress would lie in the back of my car for half the night.”

Your cheeks heat up at his words.

“Only the dress?” You question.

The alpha dips his head to sniff at your neck. He purrs as he finally can get more of your scent.

“I got me a cocky one, huh?” Dean pecks your neck. “I lost it when Jody said that you love to bake. I love me some pie.”

“If you promise to behave like a gentleman during dinner, I’ll make you a pie.”

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman for you, Y/N,” he inhales your scent deeply. “Until we are done eating. I can’t promise that I won't try to make you mine after dinner…”

Tags in reblog.

[mageofseven]

ITS ME ONCE AGAIN, HELLOOO

After the vampire event, I'm thinking about like what if MC was the vampire? Thus, here I am

"Vamp!MC asks the Boys if they will let Vamp!MC feed on them."

Mammon ilysm and the Nestling With Birdie series is so good omg

Edit: This took three days to write so despite down below how I mention the Boys, sadly I was only able to give you the Brothers. Sorry, my ADD was fighting me so this is all I have to show for it 😅

I hope you like it anyway.

~

Oooo ok nice idea. I sadly never got to finish that event but I love vampires~

Also awww, I'm glad you like Birdie's series so much hehe 🤭

Okay so I'll write this with these assumptions:

Bites do not turn the Boys. Maybe this a human strain of the Vampirism virus they caught that Soli's immortal immune system is too super charged for?

MC is handling their thirst worse than the brothers did in the event.

They will be cured regardless of whether they bite and drink anyone's blood; the cure is simply time consuming to make, but others are working on it.

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer:

The oldest was the only House of Lamentation member allowed in the human's room at this time; his brothers simply could not be trusted.

He was the one to check on the sick human (kinda? let's still call them that) and make sure they ate their meals (they still needed nourishment despite their condition; food helped, but was never quite enough).

As the week dragged on, the poor sick human's thirst became more and more unbearable.

"Please." MC gripped the pride demon's shirt, trying to force him down to give them access to his neck.

Lucifer sighed and stared down at his poor love guiltily. He should have been more careful with them, more observant with the culture; surely then he could have prevented this terrible infliction from reaching them.

He raised his gloved hand to their face, stroking their cheek lovingly as they leaned in with tears in their eyes, nuzzling his covered wrist.

Lucifer watched this for a moment, lips pursed, before sighing once more.

"We don't know what my blood will do to you." He insisted. "So just a bit to push back your thirst."

And with that, he took back his hand, removed his glove and pushed up sleeve before offering his wrists to them

Despite their previous begging, MC hesitated and looked back up at Luce's onyx eyes.

"It's alright." He spoke softly. "Drink. Take some of the pain away."

And so they did. MC gently took hold of his hand and lower arm before bringing his wrist closer to their face.

That's when the Avatar of Pride saw it; his love's eyes glazed over and they licked their lips before biting into the sensitive skin.

Luce didn't make a sound, but did squeeze his eyes shut at the sharp intrusion.

MC took big gulps, ready to rid themself of this special dehydration.

Once he felt his partner's body relax and desperation dissipate, he took his other hand and squished their cheeks be his thumb and forefinger, guiding them off his wrist and forward to look at him.

With messy lips and a little trail of blood runny down their lips, MC stared up at him with this loving, drunk expression.

They giggled, causing their boyfriend to raise an eyebrow.

"What's so funny, love?"

"Luuuuci looooooves me."

Okay so apparently vampires, whether all, human based, or human-turned, get drunk off of demon blood.

This...an interesting development, to say the least.

MC leaned in and kissed him, causing the man to taste his own blood.

Well, at least MC was no longer in any pain.

Mammon:

Devil, it was driving this man insane.

Yeah, he knows Lucifer told him and the others to leave MC be till the cure is ready, but it just wasn't that simple.

That was his human sick. That was Mammon's partner in there crying and begging to be let out.

And he was just so supposed to stay away from her room still Lord Diavolo got that cure all sorted out?

Hell no.

Late at night, when Lucifer was neck deep in his work, you bet your ass Mammon snuck into his human's room, finding MC curled up on the bed crying.

"Heyy--"

Before he came say anything more, his poor human scrambling off the bed and rushing to his side, practically falling into him as they embrace their boyfriend.

"Maaaammmmooon." They cry out his named, stretching out the sound of it as they hug him tightly.

"Eyy, none of that." He hugged them back. "I made it to you, didn't I?"

"It huuuuurrrts."

The greed demon froze.

Shit. It's getting that bad already?

MC squirmed against him staring up at his neck with tears in their eyes.

Not gonna lie, getting bit in the neck sounds scary as hell to this dude...but how can he let his human stay like this?

He slid a hand in their hair.

"It's alright, I gotcha." He told them softly. "It's my job to take care of ya, ain't it?"

And with that, he pushed their head to his neck, their breath causing the hair on his neck to stand to up and his beat race.

Their cries quieted swallowed in anticipation as they leaned in closer and slowly licked up their boyfriend's neck, an apparently sensitive spot for the demon by the way he let out a small moan--right before they dug in with their fangs.

Mammon cursed, tightening his fist in their hair as his other arm wrapped around their waist.

MC's breathing became heavier during the moments they'd stopped drinking to breath and her drinks became deeper.

It didn't take long for Mammon to start feeling light headed.

Shit. How does he get them to stop?

"Ey, babe?"

No response. His body was getting more tired.

"Treasure, listenin'--"

MC pulled away, giggling, before suddenly both toppled onto the ground.

The human was too drunk to get up and the demon was too light headed, but at least MC was more than content to cuddle with him on her rug 🥰🤭

Leviathan:

Okay, the otaku knew he was not supposed to be in here

But this was his Henry we're talking about.

How could Lucifer expect him to abandon the person he loves? The only one who truly understands him?

Levi simply wasn't strong enough to do it.

He snuck into MC's room in the middle of the night and found them laying on the floor, softly crying.

At first, the envy demon stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Should he...?

No. This is literally his partner. MC needs him now more than ever.

And so he closed the door behind him and joined his Henry on the floor, laying down next to them.

He shouldn't be so weird about it; after all, this wasn't the first time they've both laid on the floor and felt like garbage together.

"Henry..."

MC reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Levi...I can't take it anymore." They whispered.

He squeezed their hand. The demon doesn't know a lot about vampires and the disease, but thirst is known for being torturous and is used as an emotional element in many supernatural anime.

Throat ash dry, body weak, desperate for even a single drop; that's how newly turned vampires usually feel in shows; is this how MC feels now?

Tears started to fill his eyes.

"J-Just drink from me." Their boyfriend told them. "Please...it's okay."

Slowly, the human brought their linked hands down at an angle that brought his wrist to their mouth.

At first, MC simply pressed their lips over the big blue vein seen through his skin, as if kissing him in apology before parting their lips and sliding their fangs into his tender skin.

Levi cried out, but didn't pull away; he let his poor Henry weakly drink from his wrist.

The cure was truly taking a while, wasn't it? The others swore food would be enough subtain them till it was ready, but MC looked as if they have been hanging on by a thread this entire time.

His Henry needed this; they needed this and Levi felt proud of himself for breaking the rules in order to help his partner.

The more the human drank though, the more tired he felt.

Should...should he tell them to stop? What if they need more?

Luckily, MC had enough restraint to break away and smiled at their boyfriend with half-lidded eyes.

The human rolled on top of him, causing their boyfriend to blush.

MC leaned down and kissed his cheek before laying their head on his chest.

"Thank you..."

And like that, the tired and blood drunk human fell asleep.

Satan:

Anyone who thought he was going to listen to his father was freaking stupid.

That was his Kitten in there, sick and alone.

The wrath demon destroyed half the living room when Lucifer made the announcement about what MC's illness ended up being and how no one was allowed to be in their room or anywhere around them till Diavolo had his people make a cure.

But it was ridiculous. The vampiric virus was just the human strain and therefore Satan couldn't catch it.

The blonde knew the pride demon was more concerned about MC's bites, but it's not like he's ever been afraid of his Kitten's bites before; now they simply have a purpose.

Satan was determined not to let his partner suffer alone, no matter what.

The man approached the door and undid the lock charm before stepping inside.

The room was dark, but the hall light was enough to show the man that the human was sitting on floor with their back to their bed, knees to their chest, and face hidden in their arms.

Satan's heart ached at the sight. This infliction was bad enough, but the blonde knew what was truly getting to his poor Kitten: being left alone.

The demon turned on the light and stepped inside before closing the door; MC still hasn't moved an inch.

He sat on the bed and stroke his partner's head for moment.

"Come here, Kitten."

"But...but I'll hurt you..." They sniffled.

"I promise I can take it."

The human poked an eye out hesitantly before reaching a hand out for help up.

Satan took it and guided them up to his lap.

It was nighttime so Satan had on his sleepwear, including a tank top that revealed his shoulders.

MC laid their head on his right shoulder and Satan rubbed their back.

"You can do it."

And with that encouragement, the human sank their fangs into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Satan winced, but still held his Kitten close and rocked them as they drank from his body.

His Kitten will be okay soon. He knew the affect demon blood will have on them in this state and truthfully, it was better than what they must have been feeling this entire time.

The man listened to them sip deeply from him, but also noticed that they seemed strangely more controlled than he thought they would be; they even pulled back before he asked, face messy with their 'drink'.

"Thank you." They smiled, buzzed but not truly drunk.

"You can more, Kitten." He told them, but his partner only shook their head.

"I just want you to hold me right now." MC admited. "Is that okay?"

Satan smiled and kissed them, unbothered by the blood.

"Of course."

Even with how bad the thirst is, it was the loneliness that hurt his Kitten the most.

Once they have been held and kissed to a sufficient degree then they will drink more; for now, they just need comfort.

Asmodeus:

Asmo told the others he was go head to bed early, that his beauty sleep was calling and so he had to say adieu.

Instead, he snuck over to his Dolly's room and slid inside.

There was no way he was going to let them suffer through this on their own; not if he could help it.

The room was dark, but he found the sweet human curled up in bed, under the blanket.

The lust demon slipped in bed next their partner and wrapped his arm around them.

"Doll...I'm here." He spoke softly, caressing their arm.

"Azzy...you can't be here."

"Of course I can. You need me after all." Their boyfriend pressed some sweet kisses to their neck.

The demon sucked on a sensitive spot of the human's neck, a spot he knew was their favor, causing them to release a little gasp.

Azzy broke away.

"See? Let me take care of you~"

In truth, the man didn't particularly want his beautiful skin to be punctured, but for MC, it simply wasn't something he had to think about.

The human rolled over and stared at him anxiously.

Asmo smiled sweetly at them before sliding a hand into their smooth hair and gently leading them to his neck.

The human was nervous, but first decided to return the favor, playfully sucking on a sensitive area their boyfriend loved, causing him to moan before sinking their teeth in him as gently as they could.

Asmo played with his Dolly's hair as they drank. His poor Doll. Being sick is never fun, but being sick with a nasty vamp virus and having to hide away, all alone in their room with a burning thirst?

Take your time, sweetie; Azzy gots you.

MC drank for a while from the lust demon, but also drank small sips, savoring each drop that slid down their throat.

Their boyfriend didn't mind this; they were being quite gentle with him and he loved getting the chance to cuddle with them after so long of Lucifer keeping them apart.

Eventually, MC pulled back and looked at their boyfriend sweetly before leaning in for a sweet kiss.

The two had another activity to catch up on, something the human was only all the more interested in from drinking from a lust demon.

Beelzebub:

Beel was in the the kitchen making his usual midnight snack raid.

In truth...his heart really wasn't in it.

MC's room was right next door and, unlike the other men on this list, he was trying to follow Lucifer's orders.

His Muffin was sick so surely it was better for them to get rest till their medicine is ready...right?

The more time that passed, the less this man was sure.

Beely missed them. He wanted to hold them close and spend their days together like they always did 🥺😔

That's when he spotted them: iced tweety birds. MC likes munching on those bird shaped cookies as they study.

...Maybe his Muffin would like a snack? Granted, he understood food wasn't necessarily what their body was looking for, but still.

The big guy quietly left the kitchen with the little carton of cookies and opened the door next door to MC's room.

"Muffin?"

MC was sitting on the bed, hugging the big orange teddy bear he won for them at the Devildom's carnival and when I say big, I mean the demon sees the fluffy bear and no human.

The human responded by hugging the bear tighter.

Beel stepped in and closed the door.

"I brought cookies."

He shook the cartoon for emphasis and to let them know which type.

"Beely...I...I...I can't eat anymore."

The gluttony demon heart was shot. Their illness must be really bad if they can no longer eat food.

The man sat the carton on the desk before joining his partner on the bed.

He pulled them and the teddy into his arms and held them tightly (but not too tight, he was very conscious not to squeeze them too hard since they're sick).

Suddenly, the human dropped the bear and climbed onto their boyfriend's lap, kneeling on his legs to raise them to eye level with him.

"Beel..." Their voice was a plead that almost crossed into a whine. "I'm so thirsty..."

"Want me to get you a pop from the kitchen or something?"

MC laid their head on his chest and whimpered.

"Muffin??"

"Beel...I need blood. Please. Please."

Oh. Oh.

Right. Poor MC has apparently advanced this far.

"I got blood." He said simply. "You can bite me."

"B...b-but..."

Their boyfriend pressed a kiss to their forehead.

"It's okay." He spoke softly.

MC stared into his purple orbs for a minute more and watched him give them a small nodded.

The human leaned to their left and demon bent their neck out a bit, giving their partner more room.

MC made a small test nibble in the crook of his neck before looking back to Beel.

Their boyfriend was still smiling encouragingly to them so they turned back and bit in for real.

Beel has a high pain tolerance so the man didn't even wince at the bite.

He kept his arms wrapped around his partner and gently rocked them and rubbed their back as they drank.

The gluttony demon was such a big guy that the human didn't drink nearly enough to make him feel weak by the time they pulled away.

MC looked back up at him shyly, their face messy with his blood.

He chuckled and wiped their face with his hand before kissing their cheek.

"Good Muffin."

Belphegor:

Yeah, Lucifer really didn't think his little rule through.

Not only was it stupid in Belphie's eyes, his older brother should have known he wasn't going to follow it.

Still, the youngest pretended like it was any other day and slept through most of it, as per usually.

When night came and most brothers where asleep or at least off in their usual nightly rooms, Belphie left the planetarium and headed downstairs to MC's room.

The human was laying on their rug, staring up at the ceiling with dried tears on their cheeks and red eyes.

Their boyfriend's eyes went wide as they hurried to join their partner on the rug and pulled them to his chest.

He pulled his cardigan back to give MC more neck room.

"Drink. Come, just do it."

"B-But--"

"You've suffered enough, Butthead." He pushed their face closer to his exposed neck. "Now do it."

MC left out a small whimper before bringing their lips to his neck and biting down.

Belphie squeezed his eyes shut at the bite, but otherwise made no reaction.

His former scowl softened as he listened to his partner gently drink from him, slow tears sliding down their cheeks as they did so.

The more the human drank, the less they cried.

Soon, the burning in their throat ceased and so did their tears.

MC broke away, finding their boyfriend barely conscious.

"Belphie? Belphie?!"

"I...fi..ne..."

And with that, the sloth demon passed out it and in truth, it made sense.

'Donating' a lot of blood can make any one tired; it made some of the other brothers so as well

But when it's the Avatar of Sloth whose done so?

Yeah, you have nothing to worry about, MC; it's not your fault.

Just let your boyfriend sleep it off.