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#HIS BICEPS BARK BARK BARK
sttoru · 6 months
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𝝑𝑒 SYNOPSIS. sukuna is shameless—not caring if anyone were to ever catch him righteously claiming ownership over his favorite concubine in the garden.
wc. 1.5k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. exhibitionism. size difference. dumbification \\ objectification. has two c.ocks. hair pulling. use of spit (yeah ik i wouldnt write for it but its sukuna). breeding themes. overstimulation. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut’. sukuna’s a menace and loves to create drama between his concubines
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“shut up. i don’t care if they’re here or not,” sukuna grunts, tightening his grip on your fleshy thighs as his lower cock slams in and out your sloppy cunt without much thought. the sound of pruning shears cutting off branches is easily overwhelmed by the lewd noises of skin slapping against skin.
you feel sorry for those servants who’re just doing their job tending to the garden. none of them dare to look your way. they’re sweating, eyes solely focused on the branches they’re cutting, acting like they are not hearing the sinful moans and grunts in the distance. if they look, they’re dead. that much is known.
everything is blurry to you. all you can manage to do is let out a string of pleasure filled whines. your body is easily overpowered and held up against the harsh wood of the nearby wall. your thighs are spread in an awfully painful way, your knees up to your chest. quite literally folded in half.
“i said eyes on me, y’ fuckin’ slut,” sukuna barks. he does not have the patience today. you breaking the intense eye contact with him only worsens his mood. one of his veiny hands tug at your hair. the others hold you up—not allowing you to even think of getting back on your feet until your tight cunt is done milking him for what he’s worth.
you gasp and sukuna takes the chance to grab your jaw with yet another free hand. “open y’r mouth,” his hips do not still for even a second. they roll and ground against yours, the surrounding skin near his pelvis stained with your wet juices. he could smell it. just as nasty and dirty as he wants it to be.
you part your lips and keep them like that, not wanting to piss sukuna off even more. he grins at the sight of your red tongue instinctively rolling out like the obedient little girl you are. he spits right into your mouth, “swallow.”
you do so without second thought. the warm liquid trickles down your throat. sukuna watches in satisfaction, drilling into you until your insides are complete mush. you’re drooling over yourself already—clearly having lost control over your rationality.
you sniffle and try to hold onto sukuna’s biceps. your small fingers curl around the shape of them, nails digging into his flesh. every time you think sukuna’s finally letting up, he only increases his inhuman pace. “my l-lord, ‘s too much,” you cry out. your body could only handle so much pleasure before it’d break down. your pussy is convulsing around his girthy cock, feeling his other sliding back and forth over your sensitive clit.
the king of curses shuts you up with a hiss. his bottom set of eyes is focused on the impressive scene of your tiny pussy swallowing his cock so easily. he’s feeling proud of the fact that he’s molded you into the perfect concubine for him and his carnal pleasure.
sukuna has fucked you silly enough times to know how to get you under his spell. his fingers brush over your hard nipples, grabbing the squishy flesh of your tits as they bounce with each of his thrusts. he leans his head down towards yours. his rough, raspy voice makes your body heat up, “no, no. it’s never too much for my little girl, right? she can easily take ‘nother load f’me.”
your breath hitches and sukuna realises it worked. he knows just what to say to manipulate you into giving in. so he can fuck you senseless for how long he wants. you’re a sucker for the fact that he calls you his. that’s what you are—you’re his woman. only his and no one else’s. the claim of ownership makes your pussy clench.
“y-yes, my lord. i can take another, i can,” you breathe out, head swaying from side to side, not mentally able anymore to keep up with sukuna’s intense libido. yet, your body is still active, squeezing around sukuna’s dick as he promised you more of his precious cum.
the king of curses snickers, amused by just how fast you gave in. “that’s what i thought, hah,” he’s realised that his hold on you knows no bounds. you’re his little toy. the only one he wants to ravish these days. and the only one worth of carrying his seed.
you’re still thinking about the way he’s called you ‘his little girl’. it’s driving you closer to the edge. you start to get louder, completely ignoring your inner thoughts that begged you to have some decorum; to try and hide the fact that you’re getting slutted out in the courtyard.
there’s not much hiding it anyway since the servants have a clear understanding of what’s going on behind them. “mghh, please—please need more!” you mewl and sukuna listens. his red eyes darken with desire as you get into it. he loves to experience that lust driven side of yours. a complete opposite to your usual formal and shy self.
“louder, c’mon. let them know i’m fucking you good,” sukuna sneers, enjoying the mind games he is playing with you. you’re too cockdrunk to even notice. the them in his sentence refers to his other concubines. he knows that you’re secretly craving to get revenge on them and show them just how well you get dicked down by him every single day.
unlike them, who rarely get graced by his touch. that is, when you’re unavailable.
you do as told and increase the volume of your erotic moans, letting everyone around the estate know what you’re getting up to. not like anyone could interfere. sukuna wouldn’t dare let them live a second after.
“that’s it, yeah,” the sorcerer grunts and rams his length repeatedly into you, cursing at the way you’re gripping him so tightly. you’re so dripping wet that he slips out of you for a second. he moves his hips, angling them better to slam back inside of you.
however, you’re one step ahead. your shaky hand reaches down between your legs and you quickly guide his tip to your entrance, urging him to push between your moist folds again. “nasty fuckin’ girl,” sukuna scoffs at your desperation, though secretly thrives off it. he switches cocks and shoves the upper one into your cunt.
you gasp. you’re so used to him to the point that you could sense the difference between his dicks. the upper one has more veins and is a tad bit girthier. you hiccup and nearly choke on your own moans and spit from the change of pace and dicks. “ngh, ‘tis so deep, my lord—” you whine loudly and your hands move to hold your breasts, stopping them from painfully jiggling around in every direction.
sukuna hums in content as he continues his rough thrusts. he can feel his balls twitch and clench, ready to shoot his sperm all up in your womb like you deserve. though, he doesn’t want to end this moment too quickly. he wants to extend it.
“c’mere,” sukuna grumbles and stops pounding your poor, aching cunt. he stills his dick inside you and allows you to cling onto his tall stature, lifting you away from the wall. he silently urges you to wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.
the robes of your kimono get left behind on the patch of grass near the wall of the main house. there’s a few droplets of white liquid that’s stained the grass, right where sukuna and you were standing at seconds ago.
you don’t think about anything anymore as you babble about how full you felt with his cock all the way in you. the fat tip brushes against your cervix with each step sukuna takes towards his next destination.
“keep talkin’ to me, doll. tell me how good it feels to take my cock,” he grins smugly as he carries your little body like a trophy into the main building—not paying mind to any maids who he passes by. they’re shocked by the sight of their lady in such a state, though are only able to bow at the two of you.
sukuna finally stops in front of the dinner table. the same table you always have dinner at with him and his other women. he places your back against the surface, big hands holding you down by your hips. “there we go,” he coos mockingly, seeing how you’re completely fucked out, yet still needing more of him.
the king of curses has his own twisted reasons of bringing you here. looking outside of the window, you notice how the sun is starting to set. that’s also the moment you realise his hidden motive.
the other concubines will sooner or later gather at the dining hall to eat supper. they’d expect a peaceful meal, though instead, they’ll be greeted by the sight of their dear lord screwing his favorite. it’ll be a painful blow to them.
which is exactly what the ruthless man wants to achieve.
sukuna licks his lips and all of his eyes focus on you solely, “gonna enjoy my dinner a bit earlier t’day, yeah?”
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CR. STTORU 2024
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Colonel's Girl
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You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.
masterlist 🩷 ao3
tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex
This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits. 
Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome. 
“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”
“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.
“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.
“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”
Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”
“Get out of my sight.”
Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.
König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you. 
“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”
Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile. 
“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”
“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”
“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.
“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled. 
You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian. 
A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.
“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule. 
You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated. 
You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”
“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.
Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be. 
The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.
You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.
“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.
König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.
“Sir-my breakfast…”
“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you. 
“Help yourself, ma’am.” 
“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.” 
König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot. 
You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men. 
It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.
It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.
“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”
You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand. 
König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury. 
It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.
“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question. 
“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”
“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”
König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.
“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”
König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.
“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base. 
“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.
The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.
You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.
“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.
“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him. 
König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him. 
Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.
“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”
“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”
The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.
“Have I offended you?”
Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.
“Just leave me alone.”
There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.
“As you wish.”
He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.
König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.
Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.
“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.” 
“Relax, he’s not going to know.”
“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”
“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”
“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”
They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office. 
It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.  
You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt. 
A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.
“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.
Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.
The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box. 
“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso. 
You frowned and took a step closer to him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked. 
“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual. 
“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”
“It’s fine, really.”
You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”
König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage. 
“Oh my god, what happened?”
“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”
“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”
“You didn’t.” He replied.
“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.
“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”
“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”
There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”
König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire. 
“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”
You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”
König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”
You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.
“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”
You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.
“It’s not important now-”
“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”
Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.
“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”
You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did. 
You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.
König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary. 
You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something . 
He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling. 
König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face. 
You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least. 
“May I ask you a question?”
Oh. “Of course.”
“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”
You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”
“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”
Forthright . You forgot.
You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.
“Right.” 
“It’s not your problem.” 
König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.” 
Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”
König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life. 
“What message?” König asked suddenly. 
“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.
“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”
Oh. 
“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.
“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”
You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant. 
“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”
“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”
Oh, this was very fucking bad.
“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”
“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”
You blinked. 
“Wha- why would you think that?”
“You told me to leave you alone.”
“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”
When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.
“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.
You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”
“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?
“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”
“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”
“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”
“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”
“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”
König didn’t respond. 
“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”
“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.
The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care. 
You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury. 
You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”
“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”
“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”
Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”
Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.
You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit. 
You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk. 
You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.
“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.
“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”
König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.
He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw. 
“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”
You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.
“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”
You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private. 
“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.
König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”
“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”
You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded. 
“What?” You asked.
“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.” 
“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”
You took a bold step forward.
“And are you?”
König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.
König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer. 
As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.
He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.
The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.
You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?
You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.
Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.
“Schatz?” 
Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.
König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.
“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.
He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.
The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared. 
You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you. 
You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.
“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”
It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.
“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”
You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming. 
“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”
“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”
“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”
One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.
Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else. 
He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before. 
Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.
“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly. 
“I - I want you, too.”
Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.
“K-König,” you murmured quietly.
“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.
“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.
“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.
“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”
“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.
“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.
He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.
“Did you just have an orgasm?”
“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand. 
“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.
“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds. 
“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.
“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”
“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.
“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.
“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”
“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”
“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.
“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.
“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.
“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”
“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently. 
Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.
“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”
“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”
“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”
You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs. 
“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”
“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you. 
“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”
He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.
You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.
“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”
“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.
“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”
“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”
You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls. 
Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.
“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”
“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”
König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.
“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”
“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”
“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”
“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks. 
König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.
You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.
“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”
He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”
You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.
“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.
“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”
This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.
“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”
He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.
“What?” You asked.
“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”
12K notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 4 months
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TW: yandere boyfriend, some toxic traits
gn reader
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Thinking about a bruiser boyfriend who loves it when you kiss his bloody knuckles after he’s finished beating someone to a pulp—who loves to grope the fat of your ass and thighs, sink his fingers into the plush, knead you like dough while sinking into the comfort of your lap face-first—getting all woozy with groggy moaning when you run your hand through his hair.
A rough boyfriend who kisses you oh-so-terribly softly—but who, no matter how gentle he tries to be, can never truly mask just how brutishly strong he actually is. You can always feel the burden hiding in the pressure of his fingertips lingering on your skin, doing everything in his power to hold back the full weight of his true power. 
A big brawny boyfriend who gets fed up with you sometimes—who, instead of yelling and cursing, instead just picks you up over his shoulder like a sack of flour and pays no mind to any of your protests except for a light slap on your ass, holding you there while you bang away at his back with balled fists, telling you he’ll let you down once you’re down acting like a brat—but who, at the same time, whenever makes you cry, gets down on both knees and puts his forehead to the floor, crawling forward until he’s right by your feet, kissing your ankles until you forgive him.
A trigger-happy, prone-to-jealousy boyfriend who squares up at any given chance when he thinks someone’s flirting with you, who barks just as hard as he bites and will happily sleep in a jailcell any night if it means he got to knock someone's teeth out for talking to you.
A massive boyfriend who loves drowning you in his clothes, who wants you to wear them always—who just shakes his head when you tell him it’s not flattering to your figure and tells you that nothing in the world suits you better. 
A ride-or-die boyfriend who tattoos your name on his bicep and talks you into getting his name on your ass. 
A no-filter boyfriend who tells you that he’d straight up murder you and bury you in his backyard if you ever dared leave him, who doesn’t give two shits whether it’s cliché or not—if he can’t have you, no one can.
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♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji ♡ DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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dax harwood is the sexiest thing on the entire planet he makes me feel unspeakable emotions. i am like a rabid dog in his (digital, one sided) presence. there will literally never be someone like him ever again, this is my final message
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specsthesecond · 9 days
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Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.
While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,
"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."
The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.
"Aw yeah cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive ain't it?"
One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.
"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"
One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.
"Why don't we let the lady decide" A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.
"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"
"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right Doll?"
The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.
"....I prefer minotaurs."
This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences but you're already making your way towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.
That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. You think that might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, they could probably smell the need on you.
You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief-
"You causing trouble?"
You whip around to see just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.
"Me? Oh, I would never."
You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.
He huffs in amusement.
"They don't seem to think so."
He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.
You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.
"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"
You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.
You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.
He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,
"Be ready when I get to the car."
You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the groups as they go back to their drinks.
𓄀
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swordsandholly · 3 months
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part 2: Piercings and Puns
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“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.
You roll your eyes. “No.”
“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.
“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”
“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”
A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”
Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”
The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”
“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.
You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.
You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”
“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.
He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.
You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.
It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.
With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”
You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”
“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.
“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”
“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.
He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.
“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”
You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”
“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.
“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.
“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”
“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.
Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.
Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”
“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.
The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?
“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”
“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”
Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.
“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”
“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.
“Wouldnnae be the first time.”
You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.
You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.
“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.
“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”
You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.
“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.
You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“
“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”
When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.
“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”
“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”
You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”
It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.
Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”
“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.
He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.
“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.
“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“
“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.
“It’s not a far walk-“
He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”
You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.
It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.
He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”
“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.
“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.
You frown. “Huh?”
“What falls but never gets hurt?”
You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.
His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”
“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”
“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”
You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.
“They were being shellfish.”
“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“
“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.
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youronlydarlin · 8 months
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warning: Horny Simon ig, your kitty kat coded on this one, there's smut at the end btw
M' thinkin bout a Simon Riley who's darling has cat mannerisms.
Simon's always found it ironic how you claim to be a dog person. Even going as far as to owning one while literally being the physically embodiment of a cat.
He thinks it's cute though, how you just plop yourself on his lap like it's yours it is. Stroking his pretty baby's back, amused at your satisfied moans. Other things he's observed about you were probably your lack of energy on almost everything. You'd rather sleep the day away, your eyes, down turned n' half lidded even as you convince him that your not tired.
Your feisty too, you like to bite. Giving him the most nonchalant look on the planet as if you hadn't just bit his bicep for no apparent reason. All in all, he appreciates how chill you are with most things. Hell, he doesn't even know if you give a shit about anything that goes around you, as long as it doesn't disturb your peace.
Simon calls you his, pretty kitty. Bratty to everyone, but not as much with him. But he's gotta admit how hot it is seeing you pliant, n' submissive.
"T'aww... pretty kitty. Y' lost all your bite, n'd your bark.." he laughs at you cause he's a meanie like that. Big arms wrapped around your neck as he fucks you in a headlock, all cause you got the zoomies. By zoomies I mean you got incredibly horny, n decided to suck his dick while he was asleep. S' not your fault he was hard >:(
He'll switch positions eventually, flipping you on your back, n' he's bullying his massive cock in you not a moment later. Puts you in a mating press cause he likes how you claw at his back when he drills himself in so deep, that he sees the outline of it in your stomach. Your sharp nails drawing thin red lines on Simon's back, and it fucks him up, reduced to just babbling "yea–yes. Jus' like that kitty. Jus' like that......mark me up. Fffuck.."
a/n: I was in a somewhat lazy mood when I wrote this, so meh. N e ways, hope u enjoyed this darlings! Take care of yourself always!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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babyleostuff · 4 months
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passenger princess(es)
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𝜗𝜚 fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 wc: 894
・ ❥ ・ there is nothing that could stop cheol from taking care of his passenger princess(es)
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„hey baby, can you pass me the water bottle?” seungcheol let go of the wheel, so he could grab the bottle from you, not tearing his eyes from the road for a second. 
cheol was a great driver, excellent even in his humble opinion - he has never gotten a ticket in his life, and people told him on multiple occasions how safe they felt with him behind the wheel. he was also very much aware of how hot he looked driving, something he often used against you. with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up (which accentuated his yummy biceps even more), the expensive watch around his wrist and, for dessert, his other hand resting on your thigh - you had no other way out than to totally thirst over your unfairly sexy boyfriend.
there were times when you found yourself staring at him with no shame, he was that hot. not that seungcheol cared, if he did he wouldn’t flex his biceps on purpose while grabbing the wheel. 
but while he was (obviously) very careful while driving, it seemed that his protective instincts kicked in on a higher level when you were sitting next to him. 
that’s why when you didn’t answer him, or gave him the bottle, he made sure to grab the wheel with both of his hands before throwing a glance at you. 
„my love, did you h-,” words stuck in his throat when he saw your closed eyes and your head resting against the window. cheol knew that sooner or later you would fall asleep anyway, no matter how hard you insisted on not sleeping. “i want to keep you company,” you pouted angrily, and grabbed the AUX, “don’t want you to feel lonely.” it was on the tip of cheol's tongue that there was no chance he would feel lonely, even if you were sleeping. not to mention your little white fluff ball in the backseat that always kept him company. 
„you see, told you mommy would fall asleep,” he laughed, looking at your precious baby in the rearview mirror. kkuma seemed to have the best time looking at the passing cars, barking at some of them, and wagging her tail at others. 
seungcheol sighed with a smile, as he grabbed your hand that was resting on your tummy. „ah, what am i going to do with you, my silly girls.” 
to be honest - he couldn't have been more content. you spent the whole day together on the beach, with kkuma running into the waves (she ended up looking like a wet mop), eating food from the seaside food stalls, walking along the shore, and finally ending the day with a swim together. days off were the best. 
suddenly, his daydream was cut short when he felt you shiver. cheol wouldn’t have been that worried (you sometimes got those shivers in your sleep, which he always found really cute), but you grabbed his hand tighter, as if you were searching for more body heat. he frowned as he ran his hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. 
„why didn’t you just tell me you were cold,” he muttered, half annoyed, and half worried. your hair was still wet, and your clothes damp after you put them over your swimsuit, so if the AC was too low you could get sick - something seungcheol wouldn’t let happen, even if it meant he’d have to fight the illness himself. 
fortunately, there was a gas station a few kilometers away.
he parked right next to a small field of grass so he could also let kkuma out for a moment, and opened the trunk in search of a blanket he could cover you with. cheol also found his sweater and decided that two layers wouldn’t hurt. 
to avoid any neck or back cramps, seungcheol gently repositioned you in your seat so as not to wake you up, but still let you sleep peacefully without straining any muscles. technically he could just turn the heating on, but he just let you freeze for the past god knows how many minutes - he had to bundle you up. „my pretty girl,” he stroked your cheek, leaning in to kiss your nose, before covering you with the sweater. 
„c-cheollie?” you suddenly mumbled, and raised your hand to rub your eyes. your boyfriend couldn’t help but laugh at your slightly confused expression.  
„i pulled over, baby,” he said softly. „you were sleeping and you were clearly freezing, which by the way, please let me know next time if you're cold, so i stopped to cover you up.” 
you looked at him with big, sleepy eyes like you were still trying to figure out which planet you were on - you were clearly still too tired to understand. „’s okay, go back to sleep.” 
some people were afraid of sleeping in cars, after all, there were so many situations that could lead to a catastrophe - what if the driver fell asleep or did not notice the approaching vehicle? 
but you were not scared at all, not in the slightest. if you had to pick one person on earth that made you feel the safest, you’d pick choi seungcheol without a hesitation. in a car or not - you knew he’d protect you no matter what. 
that's why, without thinking, you nodded and closed your eyes, falling back asleep.
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 
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manhandlememando · 2 months
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i’ll beg whatever gods i need to. | cregan stark
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cregan stark x f!wife!reader
format: one-shot
tw: MDNI warning (oh boy here we go) in depth descriptions of gore and bodily injury, blood, ANGST, cregan crying and in pain, mentions of religion and praying, hurt/comfort, more angst, angry cregan, insecure!cregan, unprotected piv, oral (both receiving), face riding, cowgirl, breeding kink (duh he’s a stark), uncut cregan. (written in 3rd person POV) (she/ her pronouns)
word count: 5,539
excerpt: Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging anyone who could hear her to please, let him come back to me.
- or -
cregan gets mauled by a direwolf.
song inspirations: youth by Daughter, human by Daughter, i gave you all by Mumford & Sons, heavy in your arms by Florence and The Machine, i found by Amber Run, roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent, work song by Hozier, family tree by Ethel Cain, in the woods somewhere by Hozier, glory by Dermot Kennedy
The hour of the owl came passing over Castle Black, and still Cregan had not returned from his patrol of the Wall. Her worry had grown tenfold, the knot in her stomach was now a heavy stone. She knew something was amiss. Moving from their shared chambers to the corridors of the small castle, she decided a short walk may alleviate some of her anxiety, allowing her to clear her head.
However after only several minutes of beginning to wander, she heard commotion coming from the direction of the courtyard. Yelling and shrieking, men could be heard barking orders at each other, calls for the maester were loud, but the one thing that rose above it all was the most blood curdling roar she’d ever heard. Not wasting any time, she ran through the narrow hallways towards the source of the noise, only to come to a dead stop, the beating of her heart doing the same.
There he lay on a gurney in the middle of the courtyard, thrashing against the hands trying to hold him still. Crying out in agony as the maester tried his best to assess the situation at hand.
“Oh gods…” she gasped when the source of his pain became clear to her. His armor was covered in deep crimson streaks of blood, the leather ripped to shreds revealing the metal beneath. His face, contorted in pain, bore two long gashes from above his right eyebrow and trailing down his temple into his hairline. It seemed as if a deep crimson curtain had been pulled over half of his face as the blood seeped from the deep, jagged cuts. However the worst of his injuries were to his left shoulder, which seemed to be attached only by the grace of the gods. It was so gruesome she began to feel ill. The bone of his upper bicep was exposed, the flesh hanging from it. Blood seeping profusely from the wounds, teeth marks littered his forearm and hands. The fabric of his pants torn and she could see more crescent shaped puncture wounds littered across his legs, and his right ankle was bent at a sickening angle. They were large, belonging to something much bigger than anything she had seen in the North. A direwolf.
A young knight was holding the Stark ancestral sword, Ice, which was now covered tip to hilt in blood. Another man standing next to the knight who bore her husbands sword, stepped towards her.
“My Lady you mustn’t be here, you should not witness this,” he said, trying to block her view of her husband.
“No! No, I must be with him,” she rushed forward, only to be stopped by the strong arms of the guard holding her back.
“Please! He’s my husband, I have to -,” she began to plead with the man keeping her in her place before Cregan’s loud yell stopped her sentence short. The maester and his assistant were beginning to pack his wounds with whatever clean cloth the other men could find, Cregan seemed as if he was trying to pull away. Arching at the contact to his arm and shoulder, neck straining and face red as another scream erupting from deep within him. Tears were streaming down his face as it crumpled into an expression she never thought she’d see from him; fear.
It took two full grown men to hold him still, even in his weakened state, as they began to move him from the damp ground. Although, consequently the motion caused his body to shift and in turn sent him into another fit of agony.
At the sounds of his screams getting even more broken and strangled, her knees fell weak, slumping into the man’s hold as the air left her lungs.
He could die, the thought crossed her mind when she caught a glimpse of the expanse of blood leftover on the muddy ground.
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They had placed him in their bedchamber and the maester had since given Cregan milk of the poppy to calm him. He had been cleaned up and mended as best as the maester and his assistant could manage. They had also taken measures to prevent infection, although they informed her that it wasn’t fail safe and to be prepared for any outcome.
“He will have an incredibly long recovery period… if he survives,” the maester said to her as he wiped his hands of her husbands blood, his voice lowering as he spoke of his Lord’s possible death. She only nodded, eyes wide, feeling as if she was submerged in water. All the words being said to her were muffled and distorted. Some of the men from the Watch had tried to pull her from the bedchambers when they had first begun to work on him, whispering false reassurances and pleading with her to not witness this.
She couldn’t look away from his limp form laying on their shared bed, smothered in white bandages that were slowly blossoming red. However, his torso was somewhat unmarked by the direwolf’s teeth and claws (save for several deep purple bruises beginning to show their full form) due to the steel armored chest piece he had adorned upon her request, just before leaving for his patrol.
This might be his deathbed, she thought to herself. Tears beginning to pool on her lashes.
“I shall leave you. I will return in several hours to replenish the milk of the poppy… if he wakes again,” the maester looked down at the floor in despair. Exiting the room, the maester bid his condolences.
Nearing the bed, she knelt down and lightly took his hand in hers, brushing her lips over his bandaged knuckles and letting out a shaky breath.
“Please, my love you must wake up. Heal well and return to me, do not leave me in this world without you,” she pleaded with the unmoving form in front of her. The tears beginning to fall as she placed her head upon the bed next to their interlocked hands.
She did not pray, she never had found an interest in paying much attention to the new gods or the old. But in this moment she found herself reaching out for guidance as she called upon the gods to help him. Whatever angelic being had blessed this world with his form, she begged of it to leave him with her. However broken or scarred, she didn’t care, she just needed him. With tears streaking her face she looked up to the heavens in anguish, begging any god that could hear her to please, let him come back to me.
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The night dragged on, as if time had been weighed down by the gravity of the situation, and on its continued trek forward it somehow had slowed.
The maester had come and gone twice before, but Cregan had not woken yet. She refused to move from his side the entire time, having wept for hours she now felt empty and void of anything at all.
“My Lady you must eat,” a guard had come in, trying his best to persuade his Lady of the North to eat something or else she would fall ill.
“I am not hungry,” she flatly responded to the young man, whose face fell as he nodded and exited the room.
It was several more hours before Cregan awoke, he was still deep within the fog of the poppy’s milk but he was whispering something. His mouth barely moving, the sound coming out more like a silent prayer than a word.
He spoke her name, breathed it more like. But still, through all the hell he had been through in the last several hours, his mind only fell upon her.
“My love,” she said softly, lifting his hand to her lips once more. “My love, can you hear me?” She asked, but was met with nothing. Cregan drifting back into sleep, leaving her in the silence once again.
He woke like this periodically over the next several days, the maesters visiting every couple of hours to assess his wounds and change his bandages. Still all the while providing him with an ample amount of milk of the poppy to ward off his pain. They were somehow successful in warding off any major infections to the wounds, which was nothing short of a miracle. They had spent hours on different herbal remedies to help the Lord of the North heal without a fever.
As the days passed, she still refused to leave his side. Six days had passed by the time Cregan finally gained enough consciousness to express his pain level.
She had been napping in a chair next to the bed where he lay. Waking suddenly to the sound of a loud, pained groan.
“Cregan!” She gasped, his eyes opened just slightly, and she saw they were bloodshot but open nonetheless. He hissed in pain as she touched his hand.
“What’s happened?” He asks weakly, looking down at the bandages still covering most of his body.
“There was an incident beyond the Wall when you went to patrol the perimeter several days ago. They say you and the men were attacked by a direwolf.” She explains softly. His face drops, his eyes going wide at the memory. With some effort he tried to look down at his left shoulder, and when met with the sight of layers and layers of white bandages, he grimaced.
“I remember,” he whispers. His eyes closing as he inhales deeply, wincing again at the movement. When he opens his eyes again she can see the tears gathered within them.
“I - I cannot feel my hand,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at his left hand once again, his dominant hand.
“I will fetch the maester, it must just be a symptom of the damage caused. They will mend it though, as they have everything else,” she reassured him and stood to leave and get the maester, but they both know her reassurance was empty of any fact.
Worry gripped at her stomach again as the maesters words rang within her ears; “he will have an incredibly long recovery period”.
But what if there was no recovering fully from this? What if he would never be able to wield a sword again? Or walk properly? The thoughts swam in her mind, each drowning out the other.
She returned shortly with the maester, who breathed a sign of relief at the sight of Cregan fully awake.
He tried to offer Cregan more milk of the poppy before he began assessing the healing progression of his injuries, but Cregan refused.
“My Lord, I do not wish to see you in pain. But I must remove the bandages -,” the older man tried to explain, but Cregan cut him off curtly.
“Then do it,” he said, his face stern.
“Cregan, please listen to the maester, this is going to be more painful than you think,” she tried to reason with him, but his jaw was set and so was his mind.
“As you wish, my Lord,” the old healer nodded solemnly, moving to remove the first bandage. Upon contact with his arm Cregan did not grimace or contort in pain, his brows furrowed as if confused.
“I cannot feel it,” he said, his voice sounding far away, as if was in shock at the realization finally setting in.
“What, my love?” She inquired, looking at his arm as the maester began to unwrap more of the white fabric. The stitches were surrounded by bruised skin, what couldn’t be stitched back together was healing under a protective salve the maester had prepared. It will scar badly, but it didn’t matter, they were able to save his arm when she was more than certain he would lose it. As the maester lifted his arm Cregan had no reaction, just staring blankly into space. She was sure he must be in pain but he wasn’t reacting to what the maester was doing whatsoever.
“My darling, are you alright?” She asked him quietly, placing a hand under his chin to turn him to face her.
“I cannot feel anything,” he said, still his voice was hollow.
“What do you mean?” She questioned, not fully understanding what he meant by that.
“In my arm, it does not hurt because I cannot feel it,” he explained finally meeting her eyes. That was where she saw the flicker of fear again come across his face, worry painting his features.
“This is my dominant hand, I must be able to use it whenever necessary. It is the hand with which I wield Ice. But now I am not even able to move it. I am no longer a sufficient warrior… or man,” he said, his voice shaking as tears came to his eyes. The maester gave Cregan a pitiful look that just upset the Lord more.
“No, no that is not true my love,” she rushed to comfort him, cradling his face, making sure to avoid the stitches on his brow and temple.
“Do not do this to yourself, my darling. Do you understand what you have survived? You were attacked by a direwolf, Cregan… and you survived. That is next to impossible, but here you are,” she said, her voice soft and dripping in empathy. Brushing a tear from just under his eye as it began to fall. He shifted his gaze away from her, his eyes hardening again.
“But what good is survival if I am no longer able to live how I am meant to?” He said, still not meeting her eyes.
“It will take some adjustment, but we will get through this. You will get through this,” she assured him.
“Cregan… look at me,” she says quietly, trying to get him to connect with her again and not sink deeper into his darkening thoughts.
“Look at me, now,” she commanded in a more firm tone, which caused him to finally look at her once more, a sheepish expression in his eyes.
“Stop this at once,” she said, still holding her firm tone. He nodded and sighed, knowing he would not win this one. But as he cast his eyes downwards and frowned slightly, she knew he couldn’t be swayed in this moment from the doubt that was consuming him.
This will be a long recovery indeed, she thought to herself.
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About thirteen moons after Cregan had been nearly killed by the direworf, the head of which now hung in the council room, he had recovered quite well by what the maesters had told her.
The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had since moved back from their residence at Castle Black when Cregan was finally well enough to travel. Although his body was healing well with time, his mind only sunk deeper into the belief he was now not worthy of his station as Warden of The North and the Lord of Winterfell. He had become easily irritated and many days she wished to not spend time with him, however she understood this too shall pass. She had sworn to him in her marriage vows to be by his side through sickness and in health, and she had no intention of breaking those vows in her lifetime.
As the Winter continued on, and as Cregan's strength grew back and the feeling began to make its way back into his limb, he was insistent on beginning his sword work training. She understood his urgency, finally having hope after such a long time of uncertainty was an addicting sort of feeling. It was hard for Cregan to accept that he would have to relearn how to use a sword with this new complication, and not train as he once did, as if nothing had happened.
Once the maester overseeing the Lord's care had cleared him to begin his lessons, she asked him if she would be able to accompany him. He agreed instantaneously, he was going to ask her anyways, feeling much better in her presence than anyone elses.
She busied herself with a book, perching upon several barrels of wine that sat on the edge of the courtyard, waiting to be taken to the cellars. Cregan had begun his lessons, and within minutes was already frustrated at the difficulty he had with even just handling the sword, let alone swinging it. She watched from the distance with a frown painting her face as he continued to struggle and bark at the knight he was sparring when he would try to offer his help. After much protest, Cregan finally gave into the offers to get him a wooden sword to wield instead. It was easier for him to handle, however his skill had rusted over with time and lack of use. His frustration became paramount when the young man bested him again, Cregan threw down his sword and stepped forward, grabbing his opponent by the collar.
"Do you wish to humiliate your Liege Lord?! Get out of my sight at once!" he roared in the mans face, causing him to stumble back and retreat from Cregan as quickly as possible.
She sat watching the scene as her own anger began to surface, standing and coming towards Cregan once he'd let the other man go, still breathing heavily and fuming.
"Come with me, now," she growled as she wrapped a firm hand around his good wrist, pulling him along behind her like a toddler being scolded and hauled off for punishment. She thought it best to bring him to their bedchambers as the conversation they needed to have was private.
Once they had entered their shared chambers Cregan immediately started in on his defense, to which she put up a silent palm in his direction, causing his sentence to halt before it finished.
"I can not do this anymore," she said softly, trying to keep her voice level, but to no avail. Placing a hand over her mouth as she began to silently weep, still refusing to look at him.
He softened immediately at the sight of her tears, hating desperately to make her upset. He took a step forward and brought his hand to her cheek, getting her to turn to him. She did not lift her gaze from the floor, sniffling lightly and trying to keep her tears from cascading and overflowing.
"You cannot do what anymore, love?" Cregan asked gently, moving his right hand to place at the back of her neck, and the other moving under her chin. His fingers intertwined into her hair at the back of her head as he tipped her head back slightly using the finger beneath her chin to raise her face to his. Taking another step closer to her he engulfed her in his size, pressed against her body, in complete control. Cradling her head completely in his hands, he moves the hand below her chin to place on her cheek once more.
"What was it, hmm?" he hummed to her, bringing his lips to brush against hers. She had become putty to mold as he wished, letting out a small sigh as he continued to tease the possibility of a kiss.
But in that moment she remembered her anger and could not let the lust for her husband overpower something that was becoming a serious issue between him and the rest of the world. She pushes away suddenly, putting space between them again. Cregan lets out an exasperated sigh as his hands fall to his sides.
"I can not possibly understand the stress you are under, and the constant unease you must feel within yourself. But I can understand how that affects me, and how that has affected our staff and those on your court. You were not slain, Cregan! You still have so much to live for, even if it means you cannot see battle again. That is what your army is for. Your value lies more in your character and not your physical form. Allowing that of which keeps you on solid ground to be the demise of what lies within your head, when you are so intelligent, and kind, and humorous. That is a sin, and the more treacherous of fates to befall a Warden of the North, even more so than a direwolf." She said, silence filled the room as Cregan realized he had no rebuttal. She was right after all, he could have been killed, and the fact he is allowing his mind to destroy what a direwolf couldn't, well it just seemed downright mad.
"I am so sorry, I never saw it that way," he responded softly, his heart feeling some what heavy in his chest as he felt the onslaught of emotion begin to creep up his throat. He had repressed so much in wanting to keep a certain image, and with his own wife being able to see through his facade so clearly, he realized how much pain he was really holding in. With that thought the dam broke as he let out a choked sob, leaning on the back of a chair closest to him he began to fall weak to his emotions.
At the sound of his whimper she turned around again, seeing him holding the bridge of his nose as he wept uncontrollably. Barely keeping himself upright with the back of the chair next to him.
"Oh, my darling," she went to him, quickly gathering him into her arms and bringing him down to kneel on the ground as she sat in the chair he was using for support. With his head tucked to her breast and his arms tightly wound around her body, hands finding purchase in her hair, he finally began to rack with sobs. She just let him collapse into her, stroking the hair from his face, tracing the scar on his temple and kissing his hairline. All the while cooing sweet reassurances into his ear.
"I have you my love, I have you," she whispered into his hair as he began to regain his breath. Not letting her go in the slightest, but relaxing nonetheless, Cregan began to breathe normally again, silent tears still coming from his eyes every now and then.
But he knew he was safe, and above all, he knew he was loved unconditionally.
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“Cregan, we cannot you aren’t healed properly yet,” she breathed out in a sigh as his lips traced the column of her throat.
“Your shoulder… and your ankle, it is too risky,” she tried to protest but the affect he had over her was undeniable.
“I am fine, my love. I am in need of my wife. It has been many moons and I cannot refrain any longer, injuries be damned,” he said, scoffing at the last part of his statement. Her skin was set alight with his touch as she leaned into him more. Laying in their bed, beneath a mountain of furs, he began to move atop of her, but she stopped him.
“If we are to do this, you will not lift a finger, is that clear?” She said firmly, and Cregan’s eyebrows rose in surprise at his wife’s sudden dominance, his cock twitching within his small clothes. He nodded quickly as he moved to lay back against the many pillows, eyes darkening as she rose from the bed to lean back on her heals. Very slowly she removed her shift, revealing the whole of her body to him.
“It is as if you are a goddess yourself, there is no need for religion when you are the alter I pray at, and the deity I pray to,” he whispered as he took in the sight. His mind putting to memory every curve, every inch of skin he laid his eyes on. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her naked before, but after such restraint it is like they are newlyweds once again. With her help he removed his tunic and small clothes, breath shaky as he looked down upon her naked form crawling up his body.
She was gentle with her touch, ghosting it over the small scars that now cover each of his legs. He shivers at the contact but does not pull away, allowing the sensitivity to wash over him and settle within his groin. He reaches with his good arm to touch her face, but she retracts to his disappointment.
“No touching,” she said with a small smirk forming at the corner of her lips. The mischievous look in her eyes was enough for him to understand it would be better to not protest. Leaning down she places soft kisses across his thighs, moving closer to his stiff member, his hips buck involuntarily as she finally takes his tip into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the top just before pulling down his foreskin to lick at his sensitive slit.
A groan erupted from deep within his chest, wavering at the end as he gasped and sputtered. She had taken him fully into her mouth at this point, beginning to move up and down his length in a rhythmic motion.
His chest flexed as he threw his head back, his right hand hovering just next to her jaw. Knowing she would stop if he disobeyed her direct instructions, he held himself back from caressing her face. Broken gasps and whimpers were falling unabashedly from the Warden of the North’s lips, his strong, muscled body molding into putty in her hands.
Suddenly she rose and removed her mouth from him, to his disappointment. Breathing hard he kept his eyes on hers as she began to move even further up his body. His brows knitting into one another as he wondered what exactly she was doing, until it clicked, and the biggest smile graced his handsome features. He understood and shifted himself to be fully lying down, moving down the bed slightly to give her room as she moved to take her rightful place on his face. He hummed happily at the sweet taste of her on his tongue once again, having not indulged in his most favorite delicacy in far too long. She let out a sharp gasp as his lips wrapped themselves around her sensitive pearl, sucking lightly before exploring her deeper. She looked down to see his eyes closed and the most blissfully content look upon his face as he continued to ravage her with just tongue. Switching between broad strokes of his tongue along her cunt to small kitten licks upon her clit that had her panting and grinding her hips down onto him. The scruff on his unshaven face added to the sensational feeling against her as he sank his tongue within her finally. Moaning uncontrollably and quite loudly, she found herself leaning against the headboard for support as her body began to give into the pleasure he was bringing her.
“That’s it, my darling. Fall apart for me, I have you,” he coaxed, breath hitting her clit, causing her to groan, which shortly turned into the most obscenely moan. He hooked his left arm around her waist and continued to guide her to completion. With his tongue in her cunt and his nose teasing her clit, she came apart with nothing short of a scream of his name. Throwing her head back as she felt her muscles go limp from the intensity of her orgasm.
“So perfect for me,” he whispers to her, kissing the inside of her thighs softly.
She smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief as she had been just as pent up as he’s been, and finally getting some form of release was euphoric to say the least.
As she moved from his face she could see the way his lips shown with the remnants of her. She looked down to see his cock almost impossibly bigger than when she had first taken him into her mouth. She couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could he. Grabbing ahold of her hips he quickly shifts her down his body back to his waist. The tip catching at her entrance ever so slightly and they both moaned loudly in unison.
With his right hand having an iron grip on her hip, he helped her position her on top of him. As she began to sink down on his length it was as if all the air in the room had suddenly been removed. The sensation punching the air out of her lungs.
Cregan thought he was seeing the gods, his vision almost going completely white as he feels her tight, hot cunt envelope him. Arching his spine while his eyes roll to the back of his head as soon as she is fully seated on him. Staying still for a second to give them both a minute to catch their breath, she regains her strength and begins to shift her hips.
“Touch me,” she commanded softly, he didn’t need to be told twice. He moved to sit up, his forehead resting on her sternum, placing open mouthed kisses between the valley of her breasts before taking one into his mouth. His left arm secures her hips in his hold while the other hand snakes its way into her hair. Grabbing at the roots he tugs her head back to expose more of her neck to him. Laying hot, wet kisses upon any expanse of skin he could reach. As his grip around her waist tightened slightly, he kept guiding her to ride his cock slowly, thrusting up every so often causing her to choke on a moan.
“Cregan…,” she moaned his name, groans continuing to slip from her mouth as he moved to suck on her other breast. Gently lapping at the nipple as she whimpered.
“So gorgeous, my love. So good for me. Taking me so - nnnggh - well,” he grunted out, groaning when she squeezed him as his words sent a shock wave to her core. She threaded her fingers into his chocolate strands, pulling slightly earning another pleased noise from her husband.
“I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us,” she pants, looking down at his face. As he looks up, her breath catches at the sight of her fucked-out husband and his pink cheeks and kiss swollen lips.
“I know, me too,” he responds breathlessly, she cups his face and brings her lips to his. It’s messy, he crushes his mouth to hers and suddenly begins thrusting upwards, hitting that one spot deep within her.
Her gasp causes him to pull away from the kiss, but not from her. Their mouths still close, breathing in each others air as he continues to thrust into her. Tipping his head back as his face scrunches in pleasure and groaning loudly, he then ducks his head into the curve of her neck as his thrusts get more and more sloppy. His right arm still snaked up her back and his hand tangled in her hair to keep her close. She was reaching the precipice of heaven for the second time that evening, and he could tell. The way she began to squeeze him, how she fluttered around him, he knew.
“I know, my love. Give yourself to me,” he begged, whispering the pleas in her ear before kissing the shell of it. With several more thrusts she was coming undone around him, moaning and gasping as she collapses into him. With only several more thrust he too was coming undone in the most beautiful way. Flushed and groaning, he is the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Only moments afterwards, still basking in their post-coital glow, he lays back against the pillows once more. Placing a hand directly over her womb, he mutters something about “seeing her round with child in several moons” and she felt his cock jump within her as he continues to cradle his hands around her lower stomach.
“I can’t wait for you to bare my children, my love,” he states, looking into her eyes with such adoration. Resting her hands atop his she nods.
“I can’t wait to be the mother of your children, I’m sure I will be soon,” she responds, equal adoration radiating off her.
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She missed her moon’s blood the following month, and he was the happiest he had been in a very long time.
Although the feeling never fully returned in his left arm and hand, he had re-learned how to wield Ice with just as much skill as he did before the incident. His ankle and legs did recover after more than a year of rehabilitation, but eventually he no longer walked with a limp.
The gratitude which he felt was immeasurable. Thinking about how many ways his life could have been different if he didn’t have her to keep him sane through the most difficult thing he had ever faced; losing his physical strength and health. Most days feeling as if he couldn’t go on, but then she would be at his side to aid him in whatever he needed. Never wavering in her love or loyalty to him.
He woke every day from then on thanking the old gods and the new for sparing one of their angels to be his wife.
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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 2 months
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your boyfriend, jason todd, could break out of your pink fuzzy handcuffs whenever he wants to.
he's fought countless goons—
kicked guns out of their hands, strangled them, escaped without a scratch (besides red, chafed wrists)
—all while tied up
so to put it frankly, the cheap metal of your sex store purchased handcuffs would not hold up against the power of his arms pulling at them. that's why his arms are decidedly slackened as he looks up at you. a lazy, expectant smile plays on his lips. what's your plan here?
and to be honest, you don't really have one. you thought of the tying-him-up part.. but not much else. your brain gets a little fuzzy just looking at him.
you'd brought out the cuffs, and he'd been down enough to try, telling you that if he was tied back, you'd be given full control..
you'd been so eager that neither of you had even undressed.
how were you even supposed to actually do anything to him? jason's biceps bulged through his shirt sleeves, and the stretch you had him in resulted in his shirt riding up, exposing his stomach. a line of dark hair disappeared down into the waistband of his boxers, into the deep blue denim of his jeans.
thoughts of riding him flit around your brain, making your heartbeat grow louder in your ears. he's restrained. you could tease him, pull him dangerously close to the edge, so close that he's whining, begging you to finish, before stopping altogether just to listen to him pant. you could take a seat on his face, your boyfriend using nothing but his mouth to get you off. and he'd work hard at it too, never one to give low effort to a job like that.
his eyes are half-open, but you can still see how big his pupils are. the warmth in between your thighs grows, you're unable to ignore it as it unfurls into your belly. you can see your boyfriend notice the way you're shifting around, his canines practically glinting when his smile widens in response. your pulse quickens. restraining him almost feels like a mistake.
jason doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life. he knows you. he can practically see you thinking, knows that whatever you plan to do has you squirming, and it's just making his cock strain painfully against the taut fabric of his jeans. he can tell you're trying to ignore how wet you are, and it's done nothing but send blood pumping into his cock faster.
but he's humoring you. he wouldn't say you had full control, and not give it to you.
you've driven yourself wild with all the possibilities and jason's driven himself wild with the present. the two of you aren't even touching, didn't need to be, with how hungry you are for each other.
you place your palms on your boyfriend's chest, determined in your actions as you straddle his hips. he barks out a strained laugh.
"it's about fuckin' time."
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aakeysmash · 4 months
Note
prompt here; reader going on and on about how they never find someone and bakugou is just looking at them ready to snap
hehehe love this prompt tbh 🌸
"Katsukiii," you whine, throwing yourself on your best friend, who was previously chilling on his couch. He grunts, merely acknowledging you, before pushing your head away from his chest and keeping on scrolling through his phone. You've been best friends since kindergarten, and even if you're both adults now, when you're bored you just go to each other's house to do nothing together. You find comfort in knowing you can keep on being silent together, with no type of pressure whatsoever, and no need to find topics to dwell on either. Just pure, unfiltered and plain tranquility... well, kinda. After a few moments of silence, you start poking his cheek to gain his attention.
"Keep doing that and you'll find yourself missing a finger, fucker," he tells you, side-eyeing you. You immediately see his eyes glimmering. "Look," he says, turning his phone to make you watch a tiktok about a monkey slapping a baby. He chuckles, but when he sees you're confused he mumbles something along the lines of "you're always so fucking boring," then smacks your hand away from his cheek and keeps on scrolling while frowning.
"Find me a boyfriend," you suddenly tell him.
He snaps his head toward you. He must have heard you wrong. "The fuck you said?"
You huff, getting up and pacing around the room. "I mean, you know me, right?" you ask him, looking at him expectantly.
"Damn right I do, you've been pestering me for more than two decades," he answers, rolling his eyes. He gets up too, going toward his fridge to take out a water bottle.
"Then find me a man, since you know what I like," you say, following him.
He chokes on the water he is gulping down and you have to pat his back to make him stop coughing. "Why the fuck are you searching for a man?" he raspily says, glaring at you, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.
"Why wouldn't I search for a man?" you ask, tilting your head a little, still massaging his back. He just stares at you for a moment, but when your expression doesn't change he just lifts a finger and points at you from head to toe.
"Are you saying I'm ugly?!" you exclaim, giving him a hard slap on the back. He coughs again, caught off guard, shaking his head.
"I need love too, you know? The few men I've been seeing in the last, I don't know, three years, were all boring as heck," you complain, going back to the couch and sprawling yourself on it. "I just wish I had a big, strong man by my side, you know? Matter of fact, keep that in mind when you search for it, okay?" you continue, face smushed on the couch pillow, looking at his still crouching figure. Then you turn your body around and stare at the ceiling. "I want someone serious who I can build my future with. I'm tired of people who only want to fuck."
"Okay dumbass, but why are you fucking searching for a man?" he asks you, ignoring the sad tilt to your voice, getting closer. He crosses his arms and looks at your face, still standing up near the couch. From this view, he looks gigantic; his bulging biceps are almost bursting out his sweater, and you feel hotter the more you look up.
"Katsuki, do you want me to punch you in the face? I'm not that ugly," you say rudely, recalling what he just said and trying to focus on the words escaping your mouth.
"I did not fucking say that, yn" the blonde barks back, the vein in his temple pulsing. You just huff, annoyed, and close your eyes.
Everything is still for a while; then you feel movement beside you before feeling one of his calloused hands on your forehead. He barely touches you, but you feel his presence. You feel he's here, next to you, warm hand on your face, thumb barely tracing little circles on it, and it calms you down. He's always had this effect on you: you remember him driving all the way to your campus while you were still in college just to curse you out for stressing too much on exams, and it always worked back then too. You lean into his touch, sighing.
"I meant to say you don't have to search for a man, men should be searching for you. And generally speaking, you wouldn't have to search for a man if you just opened your eyes a little, dumbass," he says, softer than you ever heard him being. You turn your face a bit and do as he just said, finding yourself a palm of distance from his own face.
You keep on staring at each other for what feels like hours, his hand still tracing your features and gently massaging your scalp. You don't think you've ever seen him so relaxed. You both get closer to each other, losing yourself in the moment, when-
"You mean to tell me I have a stalker?"
He pushes your face on the couch, hard, before screaming at you to get immediately out of his house. You are thrown into a fit of giggles, and before he can get up you bring him down on you.
"I guess you’re big and strong enough for me," you say, smiling.
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
Text
Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,1k
Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.
Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie
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„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”
“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”
“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”
Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.
“I bet she slept her way up.”
Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?
“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”
“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”
“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.
They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?
“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.
“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.
“Most of them are trash. That one though…”
Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.
“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”
“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.
“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.
A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.
“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”
“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.
Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.
“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”
You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.
“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”
“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.
Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.
“What the hell is going on over there?”
You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.
Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.
“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.
You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.
“You have no i-“
An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?
“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”
When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.
“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”
Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.
And his dreadful orbs are set on you.
You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.
But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.
“So, this was you?”, he questions.
There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.
Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.
“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.
It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.
No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.
“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”
Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?
“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”
He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-
“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.
You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?
“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“
“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”
 “What?”, you blurt out.
And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…
You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.
“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.
“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.
Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.
“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”
The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.
-one week later-
“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.
Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.
“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.
It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.
“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.
“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”
“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.
“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”
“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”
“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”
Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…
Right?
He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen
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munsster · 2 months
Text
hell-bent
A/N: basically… give me beefy bucky or give me death (gif creds: @vader-anakin)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: All you want is attention from your boyfriend. Though, during a life/death mission may not be the best time to crave it. 2.6k words
Warnings: smut, man handling, dirty talk, degrading, knife play/kink, blood play!!!!!, uh very mild exhibitionism, pet names (babydoll, doll, princess, minx, baby)
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"Babydoll, toss my knife over." A crouching Bucky fiddles with the steel door's padlock before catching your ankle in his left palm, wrapping cooly into your exposed skin.
"Can I have a kiss first?" you coo and bat your lashes to get his blood pumping, the susurration booming in his ears and rushing between his legs. 
He barks out a laugh, face scrunched as he falls back onto his tailbone, abandoning the Fort Knox knockoff before you kick your calf from his grip and shuffle away. His breath finally catches in his windpipe when you scoff, tugging his knife from your belt. Bird-like in your grace, you flit away with a tune tumbling from your lips in a hum. Footsteps thud hard and fast until his hands clasp your abdomen. With the tip of his nose pressed to your ear, his hips shoved up against your back, and in a mumble:
"Listen, the second we're done with this, I'll fuck you until you can't walk, but right now, I need the goddamn knife." His mouth trails to the crook of your jaw as his fingers curl into your taut leather neckline. A hot puff of air fans over your skin when you spin in his arms, spine sinuous and molding into his grasp. Then the edge of his own knife meets his bust, poking at the center of his vest as he frowns.
"And I need a kiss," you say, very matter-of-fact in your own silver-tongued way. The tip of the blade glides up and over his adam's apple until he's forced to tilt his head back, stubbly jaw exposed to your hungry eyes. A blushing pink line rises in the knife's wake, pricking at his skin with ease.
Bucky likes it that way. 'That way' meaning sharp. And 'it' being his knife and his girl.
"Doll?"
Lip tucked between your teeth, you savor the flutter of his lashes when he plucks at the hip of your catsuit, grinning wide like a predator. The spandex snaps against your skin with a biting pain. "Yes, James?"
"Give me the knife. Now." The gravel in his voice has you withdrawing the blade from his skin and pouting like you're innocent. Like his hard-on isn't already strained against your thigh. He meets your gaze then, pupils blown as he sighs. Out of relief or disappointment, he does not know.
"Give me a kiss. Now," you mimic.
"Fuckin— you know what? Fine." Vibranium clamps onto your jaw, tugging you close as his lips meet your own in a searing kiss. The burning cold of his fingertips brings a certain warmth to your cheeks, spreading, curling over your bones and flooding your senses. He groans into you as he licks at your mouth and draws your breath over his tongue. His hands roam your waist, and he lets out a muffled protest when you reach for his belt.
It's worse that he hasn't had a moment alone with you for a week. Libido going haywire at your touch, he revels in it, his low moan pouring down your throat. And his hands. God, his hands. They dip into your waist like cupped palms dip into the fountain of youth after years of wear and tear. His thumbs press hard against rib until you purr into him with the heat of several suns beating down on a forgotten beach.
Then, right fingers drag down your wrist, coiling around the handle of the knife and wiggling it from your loosened grasp. You pull back with a scowl, lips chafed under the wet pressure of his own, and he winks.
"Thank you, princess," he whispers against your temple with a smirk, clapping his palm onto your ass and chuckling when you squeal and back hand his bicep.
"Bastard."
"You. Out," Bucky barks, ducking into the stuffy tent and squeezing your hand as he glares at a pissed Sam.
"There's no way in hell you're hogging our only shelter for sex!" Sam snaps.
"Funny, 'cause that's exactly what I'm doing. Now, get out before I strip, and you get to watch me in all my naked glory fuck my gorgeous girlfriend." You drop your forehead to the center of his back, and your face goes hot. Sam shuffles past you, grumbling about ‘horny goddamn rabbits’.
"Little much, don't you think?" But Bucky's not really listening as he zips the hatch shut and pounces on you like a frenzied jaguar, lurching with the smooth coil of his stamina.
"Minx," he growls against the hot skin of your exposed clavicle, "'m gonna go into cardiac arrest with how excited you get me." He tugs the zipper of your suit further, marking the skin with wet kisses down your navel. You clutch the seam of the bedroll beneath you in your restless grip because his teeth pinch your delicate skin and the humid tent nearly drowns you.
"You bring out the knife fiend in me." Off his tongue like a moan, like he's holding back, and when he ruts into you, it's clear he is.
The super soldier's heartbeat pumps in your ears, and you gasp when it picks up, pressing your palm to his chest. He fumbles an eager hand for his thigh pocket, pupils blown at the sound of a steel click. Dopamine floods his senses, the fading light glaring across his switchblade that he finds reflects in your gaze nicely.
"Is this payback?" you whisper. His grin is nothing but cheshire then, scheming with a racing mind as he brings the needle-sharp point to the crest of your cheekbone.
"You know I would never hurt you, princess." He trips the blade low, down your throat to the valley of your breasts where he pauses in thought. His lips hover a breath over yours, and Bucky likes the way you go soft and doe-eyed and maleable in his embrace. "D'you trust me?"
"With my life."
A flash of arrogance crosses his expression, the glint in his eye shining through his god complex. The chill of the blade scrapes over the plump of your breast as he keeps his crystal eyes trained on you. You and your ragged breathing and your fingers curling into his bicep. He just has that effect on you. The corners of his lips rise wickedly at the idea.
"Dunno if I'd be so willing, babydoll," he grumbles, pressing the serrated edge to your sternum, the skin swelling on either side; it starts to sting. "But I guess that's the epitome of trust, isn't it?"
A hiss through your bared frown when the flesh breaks for crimson. He's quick to lap at the wound, driving the blade of his knife through the base of the tent and into the dirt beside your shoulder. His palm flattens against your rib cage as he jerks your zipper fully open and peels the suit from your torso.
"Now, that wasn't so bad," he says, feeling your lungs flood with air beneath his shaking hands. Your head lulls to the side, and if he didn't know better, he would think you were pissed. He thumbs over your fresh cut, hushing you when you squirm. "What happened to my poor girl?"
"Fuck you."
"Doll," he warns.
"I hate you."
"Take it back," he huffs, kneeling between your thighs with his fingertips tweaking your pebbled nipples. While concerned, he's been turned on since noon, no thanks to you. Desperate fingers go to rake your scalp as he leans down to pepper ever present kisses over your jaw. "C'mon, lemme kiss it better."
You look to him like he's the prime suspect in your own murder, and it shatters his poor heart to nothing but ash in his sunken chest. Anger feeds your fire until you flip him off with a smirk that makes his brain do a spine-twisting somersault. Without a second thought, your wrists are pinned to the ground, tight enough to fracture, and yet he still handles you like you're porcelain.
"If you don't ease up, I'll have no choice but to fuck the attitude right outta you. Hmm? Hard to complain when you're busy moaning for me." Sweat flecks down his temple, saliva pooling in his mouth when you blink up at him, jaw unhinged, fingers ticking. He's an animal in this light.
"It's like being a douchebag is second nature to you," you mumble, and you feel him snap with a shift of his weight. An inner gearshift from benign victim to the apex predator. Or maybe he was never benign, just lying in wait.
"Oh, you've earned it now, babydoll."
He strips you of your uniform with a yank, palming for your feverish skin as he licks at your bottom lip. Some volatile form of submission. Like he's teasing you out of your husk just to rip you to shreds. But God be damned if you wouldn't offer him the very weapon of your own demise.
His tac-gear clatters to the ground while he takes your fist to curl around his cock, coated slick with precum. He huffs out a breathy chuckle against your neck when you slowly stroke him. Then his hips buck into your grip as his teeth sink into your jugular.
"See what you do to me? Been hard as a fuckin' rock since the second I saw you. Couldn't help but remember how you taste. Let alone how you feel." And nothing satisfies a super soldier's cravings like the real thing.
He hoists your thigh up and over his hip, 'round his lower back. Like a belt. Like you're his consolation prize. You push the pad of your thumb across his frenulum, tearing something gargled and ragged from his throat. Something almost sentient as he tosses his head back in earnest. Yet all you can do it stare: his eyelids drifting shut, fingers strangling the sheets beneath you, his every muscle tensed like his life depends on it. Not a bad view. Not bad at all.
Then, your fingers tighten with the pulsing vein along his cock, and he has to slip from your hold to compose his sex drive. His eyes blink open to a zig-zag scene that he can't quite register until his eyes uncross.
"Christ, woman, give your poor lover a break. I'm still recovering from just lookin' at you," Bucky sighs. And he falls head over heels for the way you thumb over his dimpled chin and kiss him like an angel, soft and sweet and ethereal like no other.
The illusion shatters, however, when you bring your hips to meet his in one single thrust. Relentless woman with the face of a goddess. It brings him to his knees—or in this case, elbows.
You giggle at his pinched expression, wiggling your pelvis as his tip presses deeper into you cunt. Then it's payback when your back arches and your nails dig into his flanks, baring your neck to his gaze.
"Yeah, right there, princess," he mumbles, "I know you missed me inside this pretty pussy." And the cocky bastard is right. He feels it in the way you stretch to fit his girth, the supple elasticity of your cunt clenching in unfamiliarity. The subtle rotation of his hips is evil in principle but so damn perfect when everything is so warm, so wet, how can either of you resist.
You grasp for his shoulders when he hooks your ankles around his lower back. And oh, does he know how to work at this angle. His tip drives deeper just so he can drag back out again, slow in every roll of his hips. Any protest flies out the door in heavy breaths across skin and fingertips
The dark closes in around you, suffocating as it drenches your skin and renders you undiluted beauty in his arms. With every moan, he picks up speed just to hear you against his throat.
"Bucky." It bubbles from your throat as an ode to his warm body and restless mind. “Love you.”
"I gotcha, sweetheart. I love you, too." His muscles twist around you, and he's close with the stutter of his hips, digging deeper while his metal palm flattens against your tummy. Your fingers comb his hair from his eyes; you look like an angel, blissed out, half-lidded eyes, and he smiles down at you, still so focused despite his unraveling.
The tent's zipper hisses when Sam peeks in with an awfully disgruntled, "what the hell, cyborg? A warning?"
"I think you had enough of a warning," Bucky growls, continuing his thrusts when your head tilts to the side, an embarrassed squeal from your lips.
"Jesus Christ, I thought you'd be done, old man," Sam chuckles.
"Get the fuck out!"
"Fine, fine, just try not to break your girlfriend." A loud sigh from Sam before the zipper shuts with a metallic grinding noise that echoes in your ears as static.
"Sorry, pretty baby, 'pparently someone's common sense left 'im," Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss to the broken flesh of your sternum, lashes batting as a sufficient apology. A harsh thrust then, punching the air from his chest as every fiber in his body coils and snaps to the beat of your heart, filling you with wet heat. He rubs his middle finger over your clit with a vengeful smirk when your back curls with the weight of your release.
"D'you always go commando under these things?" he coos, tentative and quiet while the pads of his fingers trace feather-light patterns over your damp skin. Your snug uniform and the way it hugs you hasn't left his mind. Fact, it never really does.
"Yeah, I mean kevlar is surprisingly breathable, so what's the point."
"Noted." Bucky drapes his forearm across your navel, shifting onto his palm and grinning above you like the cat that got the cream: mischievous and pleased out of his mind. "I'm one lucky sonuvabitch, huh?"
"Yeah, you are," you tease, hooking your thighs around his hips as he settles into your body with a chuckle, chest erupting with delight taut against yours. He tucks the hair plastered across your forehead to your hairline with a knuckle, lips puckered against your temple in a kiss sweet enough to give you cavities.
Your hands dive into the sleeping bag, trailing the sweat-slicked sinew in his back, dipping with the tightly-wound muscle before sinking your fingertips into the plump of his ass with a cheeky smile. 
"Little minx." Bucky hangs his head with a grin, nipping for your cupid's bow then pecking lower at your baby-soft lips. Though he knows he went far enough with the tip of his blade, he would never admit it to you. The same way you would never admit that you liked the sting of it. But now that he's left a scar on your chest—an unspoken promise of his and hers, a permanent mark in your complexion—there's truly no turning back.
And he proves it with another kiss that renders you breathless, taking in his solace with wavering consciousness. The line between asleep and awake and Bucky's hands blurr to something more than reality. Though, the noise he makes against your mouth is nothing short of sinful.
From the opposite side of the tent, Sam grumbles, "mind shutting the fuck up? Some of us are trying to sleep."
"Sorry, Sammy!" you whisper.
"No, you're not."
marvel masterlist
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hyunsvngs · 7 months
Text
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𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - alpha!yang jeongin x omega fem!reader
wc: 6.2k
cw: a/b/o dynamics!, alpha jeongin, omega reader, pack alpha channie, pack dynamics overall, jeongin and reader are both desperate, jeongin gets kinda possessive, heat cycles & knotting
synopsis: you want the newly presented alpha jeongin to help you with your heat, but you're a little embarrassed - until you realise he desperately wants to spend it with you.
a/n: i wrote this in 2 nights and i was barking the whole time i'm in my jeongin feelings! sw under the cut 18+ MDNI
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: squirting, briefest fem rec oral, reader considers somnophilia, unprotected sex, copious amounts of breeding kink, a lot of slick, bath sex, doggy with his foot on her head, fingering (fem rec), dirty talk, riding, brief handjob, cum swallowing, choking, KNOTTING!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Two hoodies, a pair of joggers, a sleeveless shirt, Felix’s pillow and two t-shirts, and it still feels like it’s not enough. You stare at your nest with a frown, foot thumping on the floor and a pout on your bottom lip. You need more, and it feels like your nest is particularly lacking in a certain scent - something fresh, floral, and not Hyunjin’s rose scent.
Your preheat has your pussy throbbing dully, head feeling a little disoriented, and you walk around in one of Chan’s t-shirts and your underwear and nothing else. You’re warm, not the type of warm you are when in the throes of your heat, but it still makes your skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Your nose twitches when you finally try to rearrange the items on your bed, but it’s still not enough. 
It needs more lavender, to be precise, but the idea of knocking on Jeongin’s door to ask the newly-presented alpha for one of his shirts makes your cheeks heat up even more. You’re too embarrassed, despite the whole pack knowing you’re entering your preheat - you can’t do that. Jeongin’s only just presented, and despite the fact you’d presented early and are younger than him, he was the baby. You saw him as your baby. 
Still, your thighs tremble a little as you lean over your bed. You may see him as your baby, but he’s definitely more than capable of taking care of an omega in heat. It’s in his instincts now.
You huff, exiting your room. It’s easy to beeline straight to Chan’s room and swing open the door, seeing him laying in his bed and scrolling through his phone. The mere idea of the thick alpha cock in his joggers has you wanting to whine, but you shake your head, crossing the room to his bed to pout.
He doesn’t acknowledge you until you’re sat cross legged, arms crossed over your chest, and when he does speak it’s with an amused tone. “What’s the matter with my little omega?”
“My preheat is making me crazy,” You avoid his eyes, staring at your lap. Your hands are knotted over your thighs, and you pick at your fingernails. He coos at you cutely, finally tossing his phone to the side and opening those broad biceps to welcome you close. Your Channie smells of the beach when you press your front into his, and he lets you straddle him. He’s shirtless because you’ve stolen his shirt. “Tryin’ to nest. Not good enough. It’s bad.”
“Now, I’m sure your nest is fine, baby,” Chan mumbles into your hairline, fingertips tracing up your back through your - his shirt. You mutter a few choice words back, and when his fingers go to the small of your back, it makes your pussy clench around nothing. Chan dutifully ignores the spike in your scent, kissing your forehead. “What’s wrong with it? Can alpha make it better, honey?”
You shift in his lap. “I don’t- I don’t have everyone’s things in there. It’s- it’s missing Innie. I don’t wanna ask.” Your words are muffled where you bury your face in his chest, and you want to bite him hard when he starts to chuckle. 
“Why don’t you want to ask?” He says, amused, and you kick your feet with a wail. He catches your legs with his toned thighs, trapping you between them, and you want to grind your clit all over him till you’re senseless from the show of strength. Damn preheat. “He won’t mind. He’ll like it, actually - you're treating him as one of your alphas now that he’s presented.”
“Wanted his stuff in there before anyways,” You insist, and Chan nods, humming.
“What makes it different now, hm?” His hands move to your ass, freeing you from the tight hold on your legs, and you do really gush a rivulet of slick this time. It makes you gasp, hips searching for something, anything, and Chan’s fingers just barely dip past the waistband of your panties. You raise your head, cheeks bright red, and Chan stares at you. His eyes darken, and he raises an eyebrow, before he’s smirking. “Oh, baby. You want our Iyennie for your heat?”
“N-no!” You stammer, shaking your head. “I never said-”
“You don’t have to say anything,” He muses, that stupid smirk still on his lips. You watch him run a hand through his hair, dark and curly and just as unruly as his sleep schedule. “Mm, I think it’d be nice to see, though. You know Felix helped him through his first rut? He was almost feral, baby, rutting into Felix like there was no tomorrow. Felix said he popped four knots on just the first day.”
Now, that makes you whine. Your head drops back to Chan’s chest, and you grind backwards to try and get his fingers further in your panties. Your mind is filled with the idea of Jeongin’s cock, thick and long and so alpha, his knot throbbing at the base and him fucking it into you until you’re joined together, filling you with loads and loads of his cum and-
Chan’s fingers move over your ass, finally dipping into your panties, and the pads of his fingers press against your hole. It flutters around nothing, and you leak more slick, your hips absentmindedly moving on his fingers to get some form of friction. Your eyes shut just barely, half lidded and glassy, and Chan lets out a little noise of approval at the look on your face. 
“Wanna know what I think?” Chan murmurs, and you make a strangled noise in response. “I think you need to ask our baby alpha to help you through your heat, baby.”
“Hnnng, yeah,” You respond, because there’s nothing else you can say. He’s right. That’s why it felt like such a stab in the heart when you didn’t have something of Jeongin’s in your nest - you want him so badly for this heat that it’s making your pussy gush more than you ever have, and your toes curl at the thought of it. “Yeah. Yeah, alpha, I will, just- for now, can- please, and-”
“I got you, baby. Lie there and let alpha take care of you.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You stand nervously wringing your hands together an hour and a half later. Chan didn’t pop a knot inside of you, but he fucked you and ate your pussy until you were sated and crying before washing you clean in the bath. He’s so caring, your pack alpha, and now you stand in front of Jeongin’s door with a blush high on your cheekbones again, a towel wrapped tightly around your head. You’re in a fresh pair of panties and one of Minho’s shirts this time, the alpha’s chocolate scent wrapping around your senses and sending you haywire. You still want lavender more than anything.
Jeongin swings open his door before you can knock, and he’s practically beaming at you. “Baby! I was just about to look for you. I found this show, and- oh. You’re really in it, aren’t you?”
You are. Your preheat is really pissing you off, and you know it could be tonight or tomorrow when your heat really kicks in. You don’t have time to sit around and be embarrassed about asking Jeongin, and he’s standing in a sleeveless shirt and sweat shorts. The scent of lavender hits you and your legs buckle, barely catching yourself on the doorframe. Your pussy’s gushing slick again, and the simple cotton panties you have on feel heavy with it.
“Innie,” You whine, rubbing your thighs together. Your slick has started to drip down to the tops of your thighs, and it makes you huff out an impatient breath. You need something, anything, and Jeongin’s just staring at you with a blank look on his face. “Innie. Innie, I- for my heat, you? I want you, can you- please? It’s okay if you don’t wanna, I get it, I just-”
“Of course I fucking want to,” Jeongin says instantly, and you can see him chubbing up in his shorts. You have to close your eyes before you jump his bones. “I- me, though? I’ve never fucked an omega during heat, baby, I- I want to so bad, but are you sure?”
“I’m sure, I’m sure, Jeongin, I want you. I want you so bad, fuck, my nest, please, please, please come with me, I can’t, I can’t,” You’re babbling, words slurring, but Jeongin nods as if he understood every syllable. You let him usher you away from his door and down the hallway towards yours, the show he was talking about completely abandoned, and when his large palm splays over your waist and holds you close to walk there you feel like you’re about to die. Sweat beads at your eyebrow and your vision goes dizzy with it, but Jeongin guides you, firm and strong like an alpha should always be. It makes your pussy throb and you have the fleeting thought that you could enter your heat now, surrounded by the young alpha and his lavender scent. 
You let him shut the door behind you, and then you’re jumping him. He lets you crowd him against your bedroom wall, only letting out a small noise of surprise when your lips attach to his and you’re kissing him filthy. Your tongue darts impatiently into his mouth, and he moves his hands to your hips, pulling you close. His hands are so big that his fingers splay over your ass, and you hear a few voices outside of your bedroom door. One sounds like Chan, and you’re momentarily filled with glee, hoping that he’s proud of you because you actually asked. 
When you finally pull away with a bite to his bottom lip, spit sticks the two of you together, and Jeongin scoffs out a laugh of shock. His eyes form crescent moons in his disbelief, but before you can ask him what’s so funny, you’re working on autopilot, yanking at the hem of his shirt.
“Off, off,” You insist, and he nods, letting you work his shirt off of him. You motion to your bed, trying to walk backwards with him clinging to you. “For my nest. My nest, alpha, see?”
“Beautiful nest,” Jeongin replies, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucks right over your scent gland and moans, deep and gravelly, and you let him push you backwards onto your bed. His shirt drops from your hand and lands right next to your pillow, and you want to giggle and kick your feet in delight when his scent envelops you more. “Beautiful omega, lettin’ me see you like this. Fuck, do you need- do you need something? Do you wanna kiss some more?”
“Mm, alpha, I need- need more, please,” You say, voice high and airy, and you watch his eyes roll back into his head at your tone. He’s never been with an omega like this, and you briefly think you need to cut him some slack, but you’re too busy pushing your panties down your legs. You toss them to the floor with a wet thud, and he finally pulls his face from your neck, fox-like eyes gluing on the space between your legs.
You can see him fully like this, planes of milky white skin exposed and clenching to a set of abs that have you keening. You reach out, and Jeongin grips your hand, running it down his stomach with a small smile. 
��Sexy alpha,” You muse, and he giggles delightedly, moving to lean over you again. He can’t believe you’ve let him have you like this so soon after his presentation, and it shows in the facial expressions he makes. You know your pussy is gushing slick that must reach through his sweat shorts and onto his cock, but he’s still ever the picture of self control, leaning up slightly to run two long fingers through your folds. 
“Sexy omega,” He retorts, and you feel his fingers dip into you just slightly. “Do you want it? This is okay, yeah?”
“Yes, yes, please- please, please, inside, please, Jeongin-”
“You don’t need to beg, baby, I know,” He pecks your nose sweetly, and then two fingers push into your hole, straight down to his knuckles. He twists them a few times in your sloppy pussy, lips parting at the sound of your pussy squelching, and you wail when he curls them against your g-spot. “Fuck, you’re- you’re really wet, are you sure you’re not in heat?”
“Not yet,” You shake your head, eyes glassy at the feeling of having something of him inside. This is what you needed - this is the pack mate you wanted, and he’s on top of you with his floppy brown hair and cute, plushy lips. He lets his teeth dig into his bottom lip when you moan at a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, his digits long and precise, and you know it’s not going to be long until you cum. Your head feels dizzy with it, preheat engulfing your senses and making you think nothing more than Jeongin, alpha, Jeongin, Innie, yours. “Innie, Innie, when I- when I go into heat, I want you to just take it, please! Take what you want, take me, I’ll present for you, I promise-”
“Fuck, will you?” He groans, hips rutting into your thigh. It’s the first loss of his self control, and it makes you gush down to his knuckles. He grinds his palm into your clit, wet and messy and sloppy, and your eyes roll back into your head. “Be a good breeding bitch for me, yeah? Alpha will take what he wants, baby, don’t worry.”
“Oh, oh- oh, p-please, please, I’m gonna cum,” You stammer, hips starting to grind into his hand. He yanks your shirt up then, exposing your tits, nipples hard and peaked, and he spits onto your chest. He rubs it in with his spare hand, barely holding himself up with his elbow, and you moan when you smell his scent spreading all over you as if he’s marking you. You want more, though. “Jeongin, alpha, alpha, lemme- lemme scent you, please? Please, wan’it when I cum, please!” 
He nods eagerly, and he slides a third finger into your fluttering hole just as he guides your head to his neck. You lick over his scent gland, messy and imprecise, and a well-calculated grind of his palm has you falling into the throes of your orgasm. You shake, keening all the way through it, and your pussy gushes more slick all over his digits. You almost feel bad until you hear the way he’s moaning back at you, letting you suck over his scent gland and get fully enveloped in him. 
You’re nearly drunk with it, and it takes an inhuman amount of strength that no omega should have to pull yourself away and tug impatiently at his shorts. Jeongin finally lets his fingers slide out of you, and then he’s using both big hands to wiggle the offending fabric down. You smile satedly when he leaves them in your nest, but then you’re gasping at the sight of him naked.
Jeongin’s big. You knew most alphas were, since Chan and Minho were, but his cock hangs heavy and leaking between his legs. His knot is fully formed already, waiting for you, and you moan, soft and needy. You make grabby hands at him until he’s settled between your legs.
“Fucking- shit, baby, you want it? I can- I knot a lot, I can still knot you through your heat,” Jeongin assures, and you let him push your legs backwards to spread you open. Your pussy is still creamy and messy, and you obediently cup your hands in the pits of your knees to give him a good look. Your clit throbs when he rubs his cockhead against it, peeking out of your folds with how swollen it is. With a small, impatient whine from you, he’s sliding home. He bottoms out instantly, and your clit rubs against the thatch of hair at his base deliciously. 
“Big,” You say, breathless, and Jeongin chuckles. “Big alpha cock. Mm, gimme, c’mon, fuck me with it.”
“I’m gonna fuck you with it. I’m gonna fuck you senseless,” He says, and then his hips are kicking up. All of his dance training has paid off, and his cock thrusts into you so fast your bed is squeaking. You’re happy you’ve had everyone else in the pack in this exact position already, otherwise your cheeks would burn crimson. You’re too busy whining and drooling all over your nest to care. “W-wet. Wet omega pussy, holy shit.”
“I’ll cum quickly, I’ll cum so quick, fuck- I’m gonna squeeze you so tight, alpha, I promise,” You wail, eyes finally leaking tears from the pleasure. His cock is heavy inside of you, and his head drops to your neck again, teeth just barely nipping at your scent gland playfully. With a shift of his hips, he’s fucking against your g-spot, and the feeling of his balls slapping against you drives you borderline insane. “Alpha! Alpha, oh, it’s s’good, s’good!”
“I know, fucking hell, baby,” He huffs, laughing in disbelief. “I’m gonna knot you. Fuck, baby, I can’t, I’ll last longer next time, I promise, just- let me knot you? Fuck, let me breed this cunt, please, omega, please, let alpha.”
“Alpha, please, yeah, yeah!” You babble, nodding impatiently, and his teeth bite into your scent gland firmer this time, just above Chan’s pack alpha bite. With another few thrusts, you feel his knot finally slot into your pussy, and the feeling has you squirting all over him again. You know he’s probably soaking with it, but the thought only makes you cum harder, especially when you feel his cock start to spurt hot cum inside of you. His knot causes it to leak out around his shaft, and you keen loudly, trying to grip his cock tighter with your hole to keep his load inside. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Jeongin coos, out of breath. His cock is still spurting inside of you, and his hips stutter to try and push it further inside despite the knot keeping him firmly in place. “I’ve got more cum for you later, pretty, I’ll give you my pups.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You wake up to the scent of lavender and pain in your tummy. It’s hit, you realise, no doubt spurred on by the alpha who’s let you sleep on his chest. You’re both still fully naked, his cock half-hard against the base of his tummy, and your pussy’s gushed a puddle onto Felix’s pillow. You almost feel a little guilty until you realise he’ll definitely just lick it clean and thank you for it.
Your limbs are still heavy with sleep, but you attempt to stretch out your legs. The movement just makes the cramps hit a little heavier, and you whine in pain, moving to scent Jeongin and try to calm your heat. You’re sweaty, a sheen beading on your chest and over your forehead, vision blurry, and Jeongin pulls you closer into his neck despite still being asleep.
Inhaling deeply, you run your hand down his stomach just like he’d made you do earlier. His muscles ripple under your touch and you feel like you’re about to go cross-eyed. You’re not even sure what time it is. Your phone is dead somewhere inside your room, and Jeongin discarded his own phone in his room when you’d jumped him. The memory almost makes you snicker, but the scent of lavender hitting your nose almost immediately quells the cramps in your tummy and you moan into his skin.
Feeling a little impatient, you let your hand run down to the base of his cock, fingers stroking over the thatch of hair. Would he let you, in his sleep? He’d been so caring, so willing to bend for your needs earlier. Could you just… straddle his lithe thighs, let his big cock slide into your hole and wake him up with his knot locking you together?
You’re so delirious with it you shake your head against his skin, sighing out a stuttered breath and trying to keep yourself together. You can’t wake him up, not now, not when he’s just treated you so well and is just getting some sleep. You shift on the bed again, trying to move away and calm down, but a hand moving to your hair has you gasping in surprise.
“Your heat’s hit, yeah?” He murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. It brings a deeper tone to your alpha’s voice that makes your pussy gush impatiently onto his thigh, and he treats you with a fond chuckle at the feeling. “C’mere. You wanna ride me?”
“Yes, yes, please, please, Iyennie,” You beg, and he nods, finally opening his eyes. They’re dark when he finally looks at you, his strong cheekbones only slightly illuminated by the streetlights outside, and you clamber on top of him. You’re so wet, dripping over his body until you finally grip the base of his cock and slide down onto him in one go. “Oh my god. Oh my god, alpha, oh my god, oh my god, big, big-”
“Ssh,” He comforts you, thumbs moving to rub circles into your thighs. “Bounce on it, baby. Let alpha wake up a little.”
So you do. Your hips bounce on top of him and you work yourself up into bliss. He just stares at you with half-lidded eyes, little grunts slipping from his lips when you hit it particularly deep and gush even more on top of him. 
“If you need it, you just take it,” Jeongin says, and you’re confused until you realise how he’d woken up to you in such a worked-up frenzy. “Take it whenever. It’s yours, omega, let me wake up to this messy pussy and I’ll- god, I’ll knot you whenever you need it.”
“I need it. I need it, I need it, oh, oh, alpha, I need it!” You wail, tits jiggling with your bounces, and Jeongin hums in response. He looks to be considering something, and after a long blink his eyes are open wider, more awake. With his alpha strength, he manages to pull you off of his cock, and you immediately begin to sniffle.
“Why? Why? You said I could, you said I could, alpha, you said-”
He’s flipping you onto your stomach in a quick movement, a growl leaving his lips when you just squirm on your tummy. Your pussy’s leaking even more now, and you’re crying, too, desperate for your lavender boy and his big cock.
“Remember what you said to me?” A large palm smacks your ass, and you squeak, pussy clenching and gushing. “Hands and knees like a good breeding bitch, c’mon, be a good omega for your alpha.”
“Oh, fuck,” You respond, quite intelligently, but then you’re deliriously pushing yourself up onto your knees. You arch your back for him, letting him see the way your hole flutters with emptiness, just slightly gaping from his thick length. 
“Fuck, baby, alpha’s gotta- I need to taste you,” Jeongin moans, and then his nose presses into you with a deep lick. He positively whines into your folds at the taste, tongue flicking over your clit and hand wrapping around your thigh to keep you supported. Your toes curl into the sheets, head dropping to your pillow with a loud, strangled moan. His t-shirt is still next to your pillow, and your nose buries into it, inhaling deeply with every moan he punches from your lungs. 
“Please, please, please,” You slur, muffled in his t-shirt, and he hums against your hole. It has you bucking back into his mouth, and when his mouth leaves you you really do sob this time. “Alpha, you said I don’t have to beg, being- being mean, being mean, Jeonginnie, Innie, why, why-”
You’re cut off by him sheathing his cock into your heat again, balls deep and heavy inside of you. He moans loudly, hand slapping down onto your ass again, and you whine in response, shaking your hips backwards onto him. It’s only a brief moment before he’s bunny-fucking into you just like he had earlier in the day, cockhead kissing your cervix with every thrust.
“Fuck. F-fuck, omega, do you always get this wet?” Jeongin keens, voice airy, and the break in his resolve has your head spinning. You squirm against him, and his hands move to your waist, trying to hold you still. “W-wet, wet, so wet, fuck. You’re making alpha’s cock feel so good baby, so pretty in your little nest.”
“W-wanted your things in it, Innie, wanted- wanted to smell you, I- please,” You’re babbling again, but you can’t help it, drooling all over Jeongin’s t-shirt while he fucks your pussy into oblivion. “I wanted you, Channie- Channie made me ask, and, and I was scared, and-”
“Never be scared, b-baby, not to ask me to fuck this little pussy,” He reasons, and you nod, whining. His cock presses deeper into you, and you feel him reposition on the bed, and then his foot rests on your head, pushing you down. “Is- is this okay, omega? Keepin’ you in place for me to fuck you, yeah? S-squirmy girl, you are.”
“‘S okay, ‘s so okay, so okay,” You try, but it’s still muffled. Your eyes are rolling back into your head at this point, your mattress squeaking and headboard thudding against the wall. Despite him holding you down you’re still trying to move, to grind your clit against something, anything, and you moan gratefully when one of Jeongin’s hands moves from your ass to underneath you, letting you grind your messy clit against his palm. 
“Make yourself cum,” He instructs, and you nod, fingernails digging into your nest. It must be a mess by now, laden with cum and your scents, but you don’t care - Jeongin will help you fix it later. You know he will, even through your delirious mind and your pussy gushing slick out over his cock and his knot. You still grind yourself downwards, feeling yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and his foot holds you down harder. You whine, arching your back to the point it’s almost painful.
You feel it start to gush out of you before you even know it’s happening. “C-cumming! Cumming, alpha, alpha! I’m cumming, alpha, please, please-”
“What are you begging for?” Jeongin chuckles deliriously, hand smacking your ass. “Let it all out, a-all over me, all over your alpha’s cock. Give it to me, that’s it.”
You do. Your pussy gushes over and over, and with a loud growl, Jeongin’s knotting you again. His knot swells to the point that you know it’s going to be a stretch, and it slides inside with a wet noise before he’s filling you with his cum again. It’s thick, abundant, but his knot is so big this time it keeps it nice and secure inside of you.
“Fuck, breedin’ you nice and full, yeah?” He murmurs, and you nod satedly, your eyes fluttering shut. You could sleep like this, especially when he finally repositions you to lay with your back to his chest on your side, his knot steadily pumping cum inside of you. Part of you hopes it takes despite your birth control. His hand rubs over your tummy, and he snickers when he rubs one finger over your clit and makes you whine in overstimulation. 
A few minutes pass, and Jeongin manages to slide out of you, leaving your pussy gaping and messy. You want to make a noise of dissatisfaction, but you’re too tired, your heat leaving you sleepy and Jeongin leaving you satisfied.
“C’mon,” Jeongin huffs, fingernails tracing over the small of your back. “Let me run you a bath, omega. A bath and then food, yeah?”
“Hnnnfg,” You murmur, eyes fluttering shut. He’s fucked you so good it’s got you feeling floaty, heat completely sated until the next wave of arousal hits you. “‘M tired, Innie.”
“A bath and then food. That’s it, I promise. Let me take care of you.”
You can’t say no. You swing your heavy limbs to the side of the bed and follow Jeongin to where he’s fiddling with the bath taps, running you a nice, warm bath. He lets you press your face into his neck from behind to keep you grounded while he gets it sorted for the two of you, and you wrap your arms around his middle with a happy grin on your face. When he finally guides you into the bath with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek, you’re happy to stretch your legs out and let him wiggle in behind you.
“Ah, there. Feels good?” He questions, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you nod. He pecks your cheek again, before he’s using plain water to reach up and massage over your thighs. The movement doesn’t get you horny again, but moreso relaxed, and you lean your head back onto his shoulder while he looks after you. 
A knock on the door snaps you both from your serene moment, and Jeongin lets out a noise of surprise. You protest agitatedly, but make a noise loud enough to let the other person know they can enter.
Chan pokes his head in, eyes soft but fond. “I’m just checking everything’s going okay. Omega, how are you feeling?”
“I’m good, Channie-”
“Hyung,” Jeongin grumbles, hands wrapping tightly around your middle. The strength of it makes you squeak, eyes widening comically. “Please go. Not right now.”
“Iyennie,” Chan begins firmly, but seems to falter at seeing the look in his eyes. He chuckles awkwardly, scratching his neck. “Are you sure? I can help, or-”
“Hyung,” Jeongin says, firmer, and when you manage to crane your neck to look at him his jaw is set in a deep line. He’s getting possessive, you realise, not wanting Chan to be involved in your heat this time around or be anywhere close to you when you’re relaxing. The realisation has you heating up again, even in the bathwater, and you reach a hand up to grip Jeongin’s wrist. 
“I’ll set off,” Chan recognises, eyes flickering between you two. “Love you both.”
“Love you Channie,” You murmur, pussy throbbing between your legs where they’re splayed over Jeongin’s, and when the door shuts again he’s pouncing on you. 
“Heat hitting again?” He questions casually, but the heavy breaths he’s letting out on your shoulder and the hard cock pressing against your back has you knowing he’s anything but casual. You nod in response, and he pulls you around by your waist, making you face him. The steam from the bath has caused his hair to be slightly damp, and you push it back from his features, taking in just how handsome he is - and he really is like this, all domestic and boyish for you. His bottom lip is a little pouty, and you kiss it chastely, before you’re reaching down to grip his cock. 
“I gotta- next time, in your rut, let me,” You murmur against his mouth, still a little lucid despite the new wave of heat hitting. “I need to- to worship this cock, and suck it, and-”
“Fuck, omega,” He cuts you off, groaning, deep and gravelly. You pump his shaft a few times, but you’re too impatient, wiggling onto his lap further to let his cock press against your clit. It’s swollen and achy already, and with another moan Jeongin grips the base of his cock himself and guides it into your soppy hole. You’re still gaping a little from the previous time, but your lavender boy acts as if it’s the tightest hole he’s ever fucked into, a gasp leaving his lips. “Ah, there’s that pussy. I almost started missing it.”
You giggle breathlessly, forehead resting against his as you start to grind on his lap. The bathwater sloshes around you, some hitting the floor, but you can’t find it in you to care. His cock hits you deep like this, and you let out a sigh at the way his swollen cockhead presses against your g-spot. “I m-missed your cock already, alpha.”
“Yeah?” He muses, lips moving to messily kiss at your neck. “Ride it like you mean it then.”
You can’t help yourself. You start to bounce, and Jeongin’s lips latch onto your nipple immediately. He licks over the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, not caring who hears you over the sound of the rippling bathwater, and when he pulls away with a light bite of his teeth to your nipple it makes you gush fresh slick all over his cock, down to his balls. There’s still that interaction with Chan on your mind, though, and you have to ask about it.
“Innie,” You say, breathless, and he hums in response. The noise reverberates around your breast, where he remains with lips parted just above it, and you bounce a little harder in response. “Y-You didn’t want Channie to see me.”
Jeongin grabs your hips then, sharp and firm, and starts to thrust upwards. The movement really does make the water start to pour out of the side of the bath, and you move your fingers to dig into his shoulders for support. He smirks at you knowingly, and thrusts so hard it makes you jostle in his lap. “I didn’t want him to see us. You’re mine this time around.”
You wail, loud and incoherent, and you start to feel your head getting dizzy again. Your alpha looks after you, hand moving to your neck. You gasp when his grip tightens around the column of your throat. His hand holds you down onto his lap as he thrusts relentlessly into your pussy, wet and aching, and you can’t help the amount of slick flooding out of you. 
“Do you like being mine? Just for a few days?” He questions, chest heaving, and you nod eagerly. You realise your fingernails must be scratching him, and when you look to his shoulders you can see the slightest bit of blood on his milky skin, but he seems more bothered about getting you to cum on his cock again. “Fuck- I can’t- baby, I can’t knot you in here, it’s not comfortable-”
“L-let me swallow it,” You whine, barely audible from his tight grip on your throat. He lets go of you then, but doesn’t stop thrusting into you, letting out a loud groan. “Alpha, alpha, let me swallow it, let me taste it, please-”
“I’m gonna cum soon, omega, I’m close, fucking- baby, cum, cum for me, please?” Jeongin’s eyes are glassy, his bottom lip covered in spit, and you whimper, nodding. Your fingers move to your clit, and you start to rub in the same rhythm he’s fucking you in, feverish and fast. 
It doesn’t take long until you’re shaking through yet another orgasm given to you by your alpha, breathless noises leaving your lungs, and then he’s pulling out. Your pussy clenches with the loss, empty and upset, but he’s quick to scramble from under you and stand out of the bath. 
He stands in front of you, stripping his cock, his knot just barely inflated at the base. “Suck the tip, just the tip, just the tip.”
You lean over pliantly, sucking his cockhead into your mouth, and he groans. His hand moves to your hair, pulling it back slightly, and when you look at him through your lashes he’s done for. He spills into your mouth, messy but not too much given that he didn’t knot you, and he groans through his orgasm until his cock starts to go soft. He pulls out of your mouth gingerly, and you lick your lips clean. 
Even half hard, it’s still a spectacle, and you scrabble to try and get his cock into your mouth again. Jeongin only pushes you off playfully by your forehead, before he’s leaning down to kiss you, a lot more innocent than any of your prior kisses. 
“Mm,” He moans against your lips, and then he’s kissing your forehead, nose and cheeks, all in a triangle. When you pull away, he’s grinning, eyes scrunched up in that silly little smile he does. “Shall we actually get clean now?”
You giggle, leaning backwards against the other edge of the bath. The bathwater sinks to your breasts, and you try to ignore the way his eyes falter down to them. “It might be a good idea. Get back in?”
“You’re a heathen,” He says, trying to be condescending, but that smile is still on his face. “We can’t fuck in here again. The bathwater will go cold, and I actually want us to get clean and have some food so that we don’t die. Sounds good?”
“I’ll try to keep my hands off you,” You smile, wide and toothy, and he points an accusing finger at you when you look down at his shaft again. 
“Watch yourself, omega.”
“Yeah, like that’s not gonna get me turned on again,” You huff playfully, and Jeongin only tackles you into the bath and kisses your cheeks again. He leans his forehead against you, and you can see he’s blushing despite his playful front.
“Clean-up time, okay?”
2K notes · View notes
talaok · 6 months
Note
a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had
warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason
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You were flirting good
The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone
Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl
"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.
He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed
As if
“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”
But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you
"she's not"
Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter
"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face
"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting
"Now."
There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding
"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill
You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving
"Cockbloker"
You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,
only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud
"you're in trouble doll"
again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know
The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear
"I'm talking to you"
You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage
And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.
maybe this will get your attention
And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face
"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 
"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"
The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay
"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"
You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront
"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 
Oh he was fuming
"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"
you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat
he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.
"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"
What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please
You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk
"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"
The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory
"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 
"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 
"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"
Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"
He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.
"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty
"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"
The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case
"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 
His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that
"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 
And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do
"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"
And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.
If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.
He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time
"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"
And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants
"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth
"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"
His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.
You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-
It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed
For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this
And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.
"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 
He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less
"What, you scared?"
And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant
"fuck me, daddy"
God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love
"Jesus fucking Christ doll"
He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat
He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.
He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.
he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good
"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them
He was being serious, he needed you to know that
 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 
You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice
"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"
If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this
"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 
And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him
"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating
"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"
"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"
And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.
You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground
"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"
"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips
You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you
Later
"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.
the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now
"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours
"I gotta clean myself up" 
"I could help" 
You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you
"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"
And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard
And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe
"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.
Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about
"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"
To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century
His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself
"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"
"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"
Kaleb stumbled back, literally now
"w-wha-"
"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"
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yovrnewromantic · 2 months
Text
𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐆𝐔𝐘
Benjicot Blackwood x reader
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Ben was known for his brutality, receiving the name Bloody Ben from his opponents, but in your hands, he turns to putty. 💌 Based on a tiktok I saw where Ben was shy in the books
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Looking that good while swinging a sword is cruel.
It’s borderline criminal how his biceps flex when he lurches forward. The way his eyes glint when he sees the first drop of blood and the absolute beast he becomes when he strikes down on his opponent sends a shiver down your spine.
Lowly grunts fly from Benjicot’s mouth countering his rival’s loud groans. The sound of metal clashing vibrates through the open air, atmosphere. Despite the fighting happening at the moment, it is clear to see that Ben is the better fighter— his harsh blows and agility unmatched. One last exchange has Ben’s foot flying to the center of his competitors armored chest, sending him flopping backwards straight onto his ass.
Applauds were immediate from the small crowd that had formed around the sparring match.
Underneath the attention, Ben flushes, waving at those around him embarrassedly.
You grin, heart full as Ben stares at his feet, approaching the steps where you reside. Leaning against the railing, looking down at him, you can’t help the taunt that slides off your tongue, like poison disguised honey. “Good job, Benny.”
His doe eyes look up at from the steps, the sweetness of your voice easing the tremble in his bones from his post-fight high. Boys have had their jaws broken for using that nickname, but he would never do that to you. Not you. Never you.
When you say it, it makes his blood run hot underneath his skin. Just being in your presence is a thrill, ten times over when compared to fighting. Trying to respond, he clears his throat, hand clenching the handle of his sword as he tries to untangle his tongue and respond to you without making a proper fool of himself. “I— thank you, uh, my lady.”
Ben clamps his eyes shut in shame.
Hunming melodically, you take a peak at the swarms of people behind you, chatting idle. As most know, hesitation was not in your nature. Without a second thought, you snag an empty pail of water. Taking a step down to become eye level, you tilt your head innocently, shaking the bucket on your wrist. “Would you mind escorting me to the well? I’m supposed to fetch some water and I’d much prefer not to do it alone.”
“Oh,” he says, almost disappointed by your offer. At least he gets to hang out with you! he thinks. When you raise a calculated brow, your words dawn on him. “Ohh, of course, my lady,” he blushes, offering an arm.
Your hand grips the meat of his bicep as you saunter past his beaten opponents and warriors unto the path to the woods. The walk isn’t far, daylight guiding your way to the tree line rather than a lantern on your wrist.
Sneaking around with Benji was becoming commoner and commoner. His presence shifting from a want to a need.
As you grow older, the risk of you two being betrothed to another becomes slimmer, seeing as your parents had solidified their place in his court so any rumors that may circulate your virtue no longer mind you.
The silence is comfortable as the pair of you are overtaken by a forest of dark green. Branches snap underneath your feet. Ahead you see two noble women talking together, and walking your way. When they walk past you, they giggle.
One look at Ben and you can see his anticipation rising— his cheeks flushed red, finger rhythmically tapping against his steel chest, and the swift glimpses he takes at the side of your face.
“We’re not alone,” you snide. Benji’s eyebrows furrow and he shoots a look behind him. He opens his mouth to refute, but the words are swallowed by your tongue when you grip his chin and pull him closer.
No matter how hard he tries, he can’t restrain the whimper that shrivels up his throat. His hands fumble against your soft skin as your hands push his chest, his back slapping against the bark of a tree.
While your tongue fights for dominance, Benji’s fights to get the taste of you out of your own mouth.
There’s something so addictive about you that Ben doesn’t quite understand. He had felt this way his entire life yet he had only just began to have the grace of kissing you this year.
A stupid part of his thought it would dim this overwhelming feeling to be near you, sedate the heart which you had already stolen, but instead, it heightened it.
Courage, similar to the one he gets from alcohol— when he first was brave enough to kiss you — powers him to grip the curve of your waist and slam your body into his. Your moan encourages him to flip you, your back pressing into the tree.
His hand finds a way under your skirt and the pads of his fingers dig into your exposed thigh, pulling it to meet with his hip bone. He doesn’t want any space between you. He wants you two to be one. Forever intertwined. He really needed to propose your betrothal.
He smells like moon water, blood, and sweat. It only makes you tug his hair harder.
Not far from you, a throat clears.
As your heart momentarily stops, Benji’s lips are separated from yours in an instant.
A boy not much younger than you, awkwardly stands, his cheeks pink with embarrassment for coming across your endeavor.
Before you can blink and before the boy can even speak, Ben has the tip of his sword to his throat, the edge of the silver pressed onto his Adam’s apple. “Get the fuck out of here,” Benjicott sneers, “Or do I have to make you?”
Shaking with fear, the boy shakes his head, eyes wide like a deer and dashing like one when the sword is off his throat and seethed back into Ben’s holster.
Then, he turns to you, a cocky smile on his lips as his hands move to grip your hips. “Now, where were we?”
Giggling, your hand pushes his cheek away from your face, making him stumble in his footing. He pouts, watching as you step off the tree and pull a leaf from your skirt. You tilt your head at the leaf before giddily biting your lip and pulling Ben back in by the collar. His eyes light up, expecting another kiss, but when he closes his eyes, all he feels is your fingers filtering through his hair.
His eyes flutter open when you smack a wet kiss on his cheek. Ben watches you walk away, skirt swaying. Leaves crunch underneath you as you continue down the dirt path to the well, basket throttling in your arm as you disappear and reappear between trees. Dumbly, he touches the spot where you kissed him.
The tip of his finger catches a crunch by his ear. Swiftly, he grabs the object. The leaf looks small and withered in his palm. He can only imagine how much of an idiot he looked like with a brown leaf tucked in his hair— the same space where you usually bury his gifted flowers in your own hair.
“Come on, Benny!” you call out, your sultry eyes finding him from just a glance over your shoulder.
Ben is quick to follow because who is he to oppose you?
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ima be honest, i don’t what the fuck this is. this shit is so bad
not edited or proofread ❌ lowkey i refuse to believe in Davos Blackwood so…
Had this in my drafts. Leave me alone if this makes you want to throw up.
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