#always satisfies 💜💜💜💜

[greennoobartist]

Guys

Im normal :) i promise *says the person that proceeds to literally cry over some of these panels and freakishly squeaks at each and every one*

✨Normal✨

[linabirb]

if i had the energy and motivation and skills and patience for that i'd make something like. a deep cover animatic for linagram final vd. maybe even with me singing it so that it sounded more like miki. but unfortunately i do not have the energy. or motivation. or skills. or patience

[missdynamighttt]

↳ ❝ FAT ASS LIKE HERS NEEDS A REAL MAN TO FUCK IT. ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you get tangled up with your boyfriend's arrogant, infuriating, and devastatingly hot rival, katsuki bakugou and ended up fucking... one too many times.

starring: pro hero! katsuki bakugou x enemy's girlfriend! reader ⍣ ೋ

disclaimers!: cheating on yo shindo, cheating with katsuki bakugo, body worship, implied mentions of anal sex, oral sex (f! receiving, face riding), manhandling, penetrative / p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

note: usage of "sweetheart", "pretty", "pretty girl", "sweets", fem reader, implied plus size! reader, mean! katsuki, katsuki calls reader fat but not really (specifically, reader's ass), (hopefully) promoting body positivity. really thought this song gave katsuki vibes and havent seen a fic based off of it yet. reminds me of that montoya guy watching his girl fuck someone on camera lmao😭. time to give back to my community, hope you guys enjoy💜

╰┈➤ [katsuki bakugo was an asshole.] everyone knew that. and when it came to shindo yo, he was even worse. the two had never gotten along—never would. 

which was exactly why, when katsuki walked into the bar and spotted you, nursing a drink, frustration etched across your face, he couldn’t help but smirk.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. probably your boyfriend getting a little too damn close to another "friend" again. just like always. this wasn’t the first time, and knowing him, it wouldn’t be the last.

this was the kind of moment he lived for, a rare opportunity to get under shindo’s skin. sure, maybe katsuki didn’t hate shindo that much, but you? you were a different story.

he sauntered over, leaning an arm against the counter, eyes never leaving you. "rough night?"

you glanced up, instantly recognizing the pro hero standing beside you. with a sigh, you swirled your drink in its glass. “you could say that.”

“lemme guess... your idiot boyfriend givin’ you trouble again?”

“…something like that.”

“don’t know why you put up with him, honestly," he chuckled, the sound low and knowing. he tipped his drink toward you, watching your reaction carefully. "you deserve better than some asshole who doesn’t know how to appreciate you.”

your lips quirked, a mix of amusement and exasperation. “and you think you can appreciate me?”

katsuki had no shame, never did. so he grinned, a flicker of something dangerous in his crimson gaze.

"want me to show you, sweetheart?"

one thing led to another and soon enough— you were in his bed, limbs tangled, gasping his name, making sure you see the stars in the sky as he fucked the frustration right out of you.

and after that night, fucking you became katsuki's favorite way to piss shindo off.

you weren’t stupid. you knew exactly what this was. but did you care? not one damn bit. he had you in his bed more than your shitty boyfriend ever did. and yeah, maybe it started as a way to get under shindo’s skin, but somewhere along the way, it became something neither of you wanted to stop.

because katsuki? he was fucking obsessed with you.  

some nights, he’d pull you into his lap, hands splayed over your hips as he buried his face in your neck, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

“fuck, i missed you,” he groaned, voice thick with something dangerously close to vulnerability. his grip tighten, fingers digging into the softness of your thighs. “shouldn’t let you leave my bed, y’know that?”

you chuckled, tilting your head back as his lips trailed lower. “you’re never satisfied, huh?”

“so what?” he nipped at your skin, making you squeak. “i like my woman soft. more of you for me to grab.”

and grab he did. he was clingy in the worst way—always needing to have a hand on you, whether it was squeezing your ass, gripping your waist, or just absentmindedly tracing patterns on your thigh while you laid in bed together.

katsuki just loved how you felt in his hands.

then there are the nights when he'd lie with his head on your lap, letting you comb your fingers through his hair, one arm thrown lazily over his chest.

his eyes were shut, his expression relaxed, but every so often, his brows furrowed as he grumbled about his day.

like now.

��dumbass intern nearly blew up my whole damn office,” he muttered, eyes closed. “and kirishima kept laughin’ like it was the funniest shit he’d ever seen.”

you hummed, dragging your nails lightly over his scalp. “i mean… you do blow things up all the time. bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

his eyes cracked open, leveling you with a glare. “tch. ain’t funny.”

you bit back a smile. “a little funny.”

he exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t argue. he never really did when you played with his hair. it was his weakness, and he hated that you knew it.

your fingers trailed down to his jaw, tracing the sharp edge. he leaned into your touch instinctively, like it was second nature. and maybe it was.

“you’re really pretty, you know that?” you murmured.

his eyes flickered open again, red irises locking onto yours. there was something unreadable in his gaze—something so raw and vulnerable.

“oi,” he muttered, shifting slightly, ears turning pink. “quit it.”

you grinned. “quit what?”

“saying dumb shit like that.”

“but it’s true.”

katsuki scowled, but the way he pressed his cheek into your palm gave him away. he huffed, eyes slipping shut again.

“…whatever.”

and he loved it. the times he's spent with you, whether he was fucking you or just talking about each other's day, he loved all of it. not just because it was a middle finger to shindo, but because katsuki got to have you all to himself. 

honestly? it stopped being about shindo a long time ago. but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rub it in the bastard’s face.

"she was beggin’ me to keep goin’ last night," katsuki bragged, arm slung lazily around your waist, knowing full well that shindō was fuming. his hand drifted lower, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass. “bet you don’t even know how to handle all this ass, huh? shame. guess that’s why she keeps crawlin’ back to me.”

shindo clenched his jaw, knowing exactly what katsuki was implying. he knew. knew there was truth in katsuki’s words. knew that every time he and you argued, you’d disappear for a while, only to return looking a little too satisfied. "you really think you're some upgrade?"  

"she does. especially when she’s whining my name into the sheets.”  

"shut the fuck up, bakugo."  

katsuki barked a laugh, shameless and sharp. he was pissed, good. that was the reaction he wanted. but he wasn’t done yet.

“she’s a greedy lil’ thing, too. always wantin’ more," he grinned, eyes flicking over to him before locking back at yours. "but look at her. how could i say no? she looks so fuckin’ perfect under me."

your face burns, heat creeping up your neck before he scoffs and turns back to grilling your ex, like you weren’t just standing there, completely flustered.

"did she ever tell you how much she loves it when i grab these—" his fingers trailed down your side, giving a firm squeeze and earning a small yelp from you. "—and i slam my dick into her? fuck her real nice and deep? moans so pretty for me, too. you ever heard it?"

and if shindo so much as opened his mouth, katsuki would throw in another dig.

"nah. probably not. bet she asked you if it was in yet.”  

"well, she's all yours," shindo said, fists clenching, clearly seconds away from punching him. and katsuki lived for it.  

"yeah, figured you’d say that," katsuki taunted. "she’s been stress eatin’ too much to deal with a weak-ass like you."  

and then, just because he was an absolute bastard, he'd go in for the kill.

"fat ass like hers needs a real man to fuck it."  

shindo looked about ready to swing, but you pulled katsuki away before things got too messy.  you could still feel the heat of shindo’s rage burning through the air. it thrilled you more than it should have. 

but behind closed doors? the same man who ran his mouth would spend hours pressed against you, whispering things he’d never admit to anyone else.

"c’mere," katsuki grumbled, tugging you onto the bed after another long day of antagonizing your ex. his arms wrapped around your waist, face immediately pressing into your soft stomach.

he worshipped you���every inch, every soft curve, but nothing captivated him more than your stomach.

he was obsessed, utterly entranced. he’d bury his face against it, his hands kneaded your sides, gripping, squeezing—memorizing, pressing lazy kisses to every dip and curve. he held your body with a reverence that bordered on possessive, like he was terrified you’d slip away.

"fuck, baby," he groaned, nuzzling into you like he wanted to disappear into your skin. “love your body so goddamn much. s’perfect.”

you chuckled, threading your fingers through his hair. "thought you said i was stress-eating."  

"yeah, stress-eatin’ on my dick," he muttered, pressing kisses against your tummy. "he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you."

“then why do you still do it, hmm?”

he looked up at you, red eyes dark with something almost desperate as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

"tch, you know why i do that. pisses him off. makes him realize he ain't shit. ‘cause he ain't."  

you shivered at the heat of his lips against your skin, biting back a smile as you run your fingers through his hair. so that’s what this was about. "you sure you’re not just obsessed with him at this point?”

he scoffed against your stomach, his grip on your waist tightening. “the hell i am. only thing i’m obsessed with is you.”

it was the side of him no one else got to see— the way he nuzzled into you, the way he pressed his lips to your skin over and over, like he couldn’t get enough. he'd grumble if you tried to move, holding you tighter to keep you in bed, murmuring "stay here. wanna hold ya."  

he loved how soft you were, how warm—how no matter how much he grabbed, squeezed, or traced his fingers over you, it was never enough. he needed you. it was like he was drunk on the feel of you, the scent of you. and truthfully, he was.

"love this shit,” he admitted lowly, voice thick with something almost vulnerable. he nuzzled into your tummy again, letting out a deep, satisfied sigh. "could live here."

you raised a brow, fighting back a grin as you looked down at him. “oh? you wanna live on my stomach now?”

“yes, baby,” he muttered almost desperately, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction while pressing another lingering kiss to your skin. “soft. warm. smells like you.”

you laughed, dragging your fingers through his hair. “so what, you’re gonna quit being a hero and move in here?”

he let out a gruff chuckle, turning his head to rest his cheek against you. “tch. would if i could. wouldn’t need a bed, a couch, nothin’. just this perfect spot.”

“oh yeah?” you hummed, tilting your head. “should i start charging you rent?”

he huffed against your skin. “tch. smartass.”

you giggled, brushing a thumb over the shell of his ear. “i mean, if you’re gonna move in, might as well contribute. utilities, groceries… maybe even a tummy tax.”

his red eyes flicked up at you, narrowing. “the fuck is a tummy tax?”

you grinned. “unlimited kisses. daily.”

he snorts, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “already payin’ for that, pretty."

and you laughed, because for all his big talk, katsuki bakugo adored you. as long as he had you, nothing else mattered.

and despite the way he ran his mouth, he never let you feel insecure. if he ever caught you looking at yourself too long in the mirror, he’d grab you and pull you onto the bed, hovering over you with that intense, fiery gaze.  

"the fuck are you thinkin’ about?" he’d demand, hands gripping your thighs, squeezing, leaving marks. "you’re mine. this body? all mine. and i fuckin’ love every inch of you. don’t ever fuckin’ doubt how much i want you."

and god, did he prove it.

he didn't just tolerate your body—he adored it. and thats why you found yourself looking down at him lying comfortably on his back, eyes dark with anticipation. he was waiting—no, expecting—you to sit on his face.

you shake your head, heat creeping up your neck. "i can just lay down, 'suki..."

katsuki scoffs, sitting up slightly, his hands already reaching for your thighs, clearly impatient. "tch. and deny me a great view? cut the crap and get up here, sweets."

you shake your head again. "i just- what if i’m too heavy?"

he lets out a sharp, exasperated scoff. "for who? me? well that’s rude."

"it’s not..." you hesitate for half a second, but that’s all the time he gives you. 

he yanks you down onto his face with a low growl, his mouth immediately sealing over your cunt. "stop stallin’ and just give me what i want..."

you hesitate, subtly hovering just above him instead of lowering yourself onto his face, holding onto the headboard for support. his eyes flick up to yours, and the second he realizes what you're doing, his expression darkens.

"the fuck do you think you’re doin’?" his grip on your thighs tightens, his voice a low, dangerous growl. 

“i don’t want to crush you—”

“are you fuckin’ serious?” his voice drips with pure offense, like you just insulted his entire existence. "you really think i can't handle you? think you're doin’ me a favor by holdin’ back?"

you try to protest, but he’s already yanking you down on his face, forcing you to sit properly. his growl vibrates against you as he buries his face between your thighs. the way he looked up at you—pissed off and starving—sent a shiver down your spine.

your face burned, heart pounding in your chest. "i just— i don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

katsuki let out a sharp laugh, the sound vibrating against your folds, lifting you by your hips to give him room to speak from time to time. 

"uncomfortable? sweetheart, the only thing makin’ me uncomfortable right now is you not sittin’ on my goddamn face like i told you to."

your lips parted in protest, but a startled moan escapes you as his tongue flicks over your clit, sharp and demanding. his grip on your thighs is punishing, locking you in place as he devours you with obscene hunger.

"katsuki—" you try to lift yourself, but his hands hold you firm.

"nah. shut up," he murmurs burying his tongue between your thighs without warning. a moan escapes you as he groans against your heat, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you firmly in place. 

"fuckin’ ridiculous," he mutters between licks, voice muffled. "ain’t takin’ this disrespect. you ain't doin’ me no favors by holdin’ back. told ya before— i want you—every fuckin’ inch of you." 

your breath hitches, and katsuki smirks like he knows he’s got you. his crimson eyes flicked up at you, glinting with mischief as he devoured the fuck out of your pretty little cunt, tongue glazed with his spit and your slick. 

"so don't you ever pull that hoverin’ shit again,” he warns, his tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds "or i swear to god, i'll make you sit here all fuckin' night—"

his words were cut off by the way he devoured you, lips and tongue working so hungrily that your legs nearly gave out then and there. his crimson eyes burned into you, daring you to try that shit again.

you whimper, thighs trembling, and he doubles down, tongue curling inside you before dragging back up to your clit, sucking just to hear you whine.

"fuck, baby," he groans against you, his voice thick with need. "taste so fuckin’ good."

your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging on the soft strands, but it only spurs him on. his hands slide to your ass, forcing you to take everything he gave you. he’s lost in it, completely drowning in you, and he likes it. loves it. wants more. 

"you drive me fuckin’ insane," he murmured, sucking your clit into his mouth with a filthy slurp. "you’re too damn perfect, and it pisses me off."  

your fingers tightened around the headboard, thighs trembling around his head. “how is that my fault? you're the one who—"

katsuki let out a frustrated growl against your cunt, cutting you off before you could finish. without warning, he flattened his tongue and dragged a slow, deliberate lick through your folds, making you gasp.

"its your fucking fault," he went on like he couldn’t believe you had the audacity to act so damn innocent.

his lips brush against your pussy as your legs threatened to close around his head, but his grip was firm, keeping you spread open for him. "prancin’ around, bein’ so goddamn pretty. takin’ up space in my head. gettin’ under my fuckin' skin and you expect me to act normal?"

you tried to answer, but he didn’t give you the chance. a sharp suck on your clit had your head tipping back, a needy whine escaping before you could stop it. his tongue slid through your folds again, swirling around your clit, and the sudden sensation made you choke on your words.

"katsuki—"

"nah. told you to shut up." he cut you off, voice muffled against your dripping cunt. "if you're gonna talk, you can fuckin’ moan."

your noises only spurred him on. your fingers found their way into his hair, gripping tightly as pleasure pooled in your stomach. his tongue worked you over with precision, switching between sucking and licking until your hips were rolling into his face, chasing more. 

"that's it," he muttered, sucking your clit into his mouth again, hard, and the moan that tore from your throat was anything but coherent, fucking you with his tongue. "you wanna run your mouth? do it like this." 

you could barely form a response, your mind going blank as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue relentless. the only thing that left your lips was a desperate, broken moan.

"fuckin' knew it," he groaned, his voice sending another wave of heat through your body. "knew you’d sound so fuckin' pretty when you just shut the fuck up while riding my face. could watch you like this all fuckin’ day."

you let out a shaky breath, barely able to focus as his tongue flicked over your clit again. katsuki pulled back just enough to suck in a breath, his lips slick and glistening with your arousal. his crimson eyes burned into you, half-lidded and desperate, but still sharp with command.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice thick with hunger. “touch yourself, pretty girl. play with those pretty tits for me.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you hesitated, already feeling overwhelmed by the way he was devouring you. but his grip tightened on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh in warning.

“c’mon, sweets,” he rasped, his tongue flicking out to tease your clit before pulling back again. his eyes dragged up your body, the heat in them making you dizzy. “be a good girl and gimme a show, yeah?"

with trembling hands, you reached up, cupping your tits, teasing your own nipples the way you knew he liked. you kneaded them softly at first, rolling your thumbs over your nipples, but the second you pinched them, katsuki groaned, his eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing in existence.

“fuck yeah,” he muttered, running his tongue through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth again. “just like that, baby. play with those tits— keep puttin’ on a show for me while i eat this pretty little pussy.”

his tongue worked you over with hungry, unrelenting strokes, the obscene slurps and groans vibrating against you as he devoured you like a man starved.

you tugged at your nipples, your head falling back as pleasure rippled through you. your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around your nipples as the combination of your own hands on your body and his mouth wrecking you from below had your head spinning.

“katsuki—” you gasped, thighs trembling around his head. “i’m— i’m close.”

that was all it took. katsuki groaned deep in his throat, the sound vibrating against your cunt as his grip on your thighs tightened. his tongue worked even faster, flicking and circling your clit with devastating precision, like he needed you to fall apart for him or he'd die.

"yeah?" he rasped between licks, his voice thick and wrecked. "then fuckin’ give it to me, sweets. wanna feel you cum on my face."

he didn’t slow down, didn’t let up for even a second. his hands urged you down harder, forcing you to really sit on his face, and the pressure—his tongue, his mouth, the way he sucked on your clit—sent you careening straight into your orgasm.

your back arched, a broken moan spilling from your lips as pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. katsuki groaned against you like he felt it, like he was the one cumming, and he didn’t stop licking, didn’t stop devouring you, even as you trembled above him.

he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistening with your slick as he sucked in a breath, eyes dark with hunger. he gave your thighs one last squeeze before gripping your waist.

“get up."

you blinked down at him, still trying to catch your breath. “what?”

“i said, get up,” he growled. "need to be inside you. now.”

you whined, shaking your head weakly. “katsuki, i just— i just came…”

“and?” he scoffed, sitting up slightly. “the fuck that got to do with me?”

before you could protest again, his strong arms moved, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing. a surprised yelp left your lips, but katsuki was already on top of you, pressing you into the mattress, his body burning hot against yours with his lips on yours.

"don't care if you just came," he muttered against your lips, biting down on your bottom one before sucking it into his mouth. "wanna feel you squeeze the cum outta me this time."

your head spun as he hovered over you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. his hands were everywhere—gripping, kneading—like he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

"katsuki—"

"shut up," he growled, shoving your legs open with his knee. "you think i’m lettin’ you off that easy? nah. you got one, and now i’m gettin’ mine.”

you gasped as his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled between them, his cock already hard and leaking against your folds. he positioned himself at your pussy, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against you.

"look at you," he murmured, rubbing his throbbing tip through your slick folds. "all fuckin’ messy for me already."

you gasped, legs twitching from overstimulation. “i— i need a second—”

“the fuck you do,” he muttered, lining himself up with your entrance. “you’re fuckin’ soaked. you’re fine.”

and before you could say another word, he thrusted into you, stretching you open in one slow, deep stroke.

"don't care what the fuck you say," he rasps. "bein’ so fuckin’ sweet, it makes me wanna ruin you."

your hands scrambled against his shoulders, nails digging in as you let out a choked sob, overwhelmed, tears pricking at your eyes as he kept moving, his cock dragging against your already-sensitive walls. “k-katsuki—'s too much—”

he didn't stop. didn't even hesitate. he knew better. knew you. if it was really too much, if you truly couldn’t take it, you would’ve said the safe word. and since you hadn’t? that meant you loved this—loved how he was using you, pushing you past your limits, making you take every inch of him.

“yeah? then why’s this pussy still fuckin’ suckin’ me in, huh?” he leaned down, his mouth brushing against your ear. “you know what to say if you really wanted me to stop, sweets.”

you whimpered, blinking up at him, your face hot and damp with tears. your breath hitched when he rolled his hips deeper, making your back arch off the bed.

“you like it, don’t you?” he murmured, dragging his lips along your cheek, tasting the tears running down your face. his hands pinned your wrists down beside your head, locking you in place beneath him. “fuckin’ cryin’ and takin’ my dick so good anyway. knew you’d let me use this sweet little pussy however the fuck i wanted.”

your body shook with every thrust, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but the pleasure was so sharp and dizzying, that all you could do was moan through the tears. you sobbed, back arching, hands clutching at the sheets. it was too much, but it felt too good. 

 his thumb swiped at your tear-streaked cheek, his other hand pressing down on your lower stomach, feeling the way he stretched you open. 

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice husky as he fucked into you harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch. “be good for me. just take it. let me use you, yeah?”

you could barely think, barely breathe, and yet you nodded. and that was all he needed before his grip on your hips tightened, his cock stretching you wide, and he really started fucking you.

his hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper inside you, groaning as your walls clenched around him, still fluttering. his hand came up to grip your jaw, tilting your head to make you look at him.

“look at you,” he murmured, taking in the sight of you, tears spilling down your cheeks, the way your lips trembled. “so fuckin’ pretty like this. cryin’ for me. takin’ me like a good fuckin’ girl, squeezin’ me so tight, shit—”

your body trembled beneath him, your sobs mixing with broken moans as he fucked into you relentlessly. your arms struggled against his grip, desperate to reach for him, but he only pressed you deeper into the mattress, keeping you pinned.

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, tears slipping down your cheeks. “please—kiss me—”

he should’ve been satisfied with how wrecked you already were, with the way your body clenched around him so tight—but fuck, hearing you beg for his kisses?

that only made him worse.

“tch. still so fuckin’ needy, even when i’m ruining you.” 

his grip on your wrists loosens just enough for you to reach up. the second your hands touched him, you yanked him down, crashing your lips against his, desperate for the closeness, for the warmth of his mouth against yours.

katsuki groaned into the kiss, deep and hungry, swallowing your cries as he kissed you hard. his tongue pushes past your lips, claiming you just as much as his cock did. his thrusts didn’t slow, didn’t soften—if anything, he fucked you harder, like he wanted to ruin you completely.

“that what you needed, pretty girl?” he murmured against your lips, his breath heavy, your sobs melting into whimpers. “that why you’re cryin’? ‘cause you needed me to kiss you while i fuck you?”

you nodded frantically, another broken whimper slipping past your lips. “y-yeah—needed you—”

“yeah?” he smirked against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again—sloppier, deeper, making sure you’d never forget exactly who you belonged to.

his rhythm starts to stutter, hips snapping into you harder, sloppier, and you felt the way his body tensed, the way his grip on your hips turned bruising. he forced another helpless cry from you, and he groaned against your lips, drinking in every sound.

"fuck—fuck," katsuki whined, voice raw and desperate as he buried himself deep inside you, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and ragged, his lips brushing against your own as he lost himself in you. "you feel so goddamn good—s'fuckin’ tight, baby—"

you knew that tone—knew the way his voice cracked when he felt needy, when he was so fucking close to cumming. you loved when he got like this, when all his control slipped away and he was nothing but whiny, desperate need.

"katsuki—" you gasped, nails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "i'm—i'm close, i'm so close, wanna cum together—"

his grip tightened, a strangled groan ripping from his throat as he snapped his hips into you, his pace turning desperate chasing both of your highs. "fuck, yeah? c'mon, baby— wanna feel you cum, wanna fuckin' feel you all over my cock—"

his next thrust sent you over, body locking up as the heat coiled tight in your belly and snapped all at once. your moan shattered into a cry as your whole body trembled, clenching around him so hard its about to break him.

“oh, fuck—” katsuki choked, eyes rolling back as he lost it completely, slamming into you one last time before burying himself into your warm, wet pussy. his whole body shook, breath stuttering as he spilled inside you, groaning out your name like a prayer.

he kept thrusting—shallow, drawn-out rolls of his hips, like he never wanted to stop feeling you, even as he came down from his high. his forehead pressed against yours again, his breath heavy, his body spent.

for a moment, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths, your bodies still tangled, clinging to each other as you both came down from your highs. katsuki was still holding you, his grip tight but no longer desperate—just grounding. 

then, with a deep exhale, katsuki finally pulled out, rolling onto his side and gathering you against his chest. his arms wrapped around you securely, his large hand rubbing slow, lazy circles into your back. you felt his eyes scan over you with something softer than before—something almost tender.

“you alright, sweets?”

you nodded, still catching your breath, but the way your body trembled slightly didn’t escape him. he scoffs, sitting up just enough to lean over and press soft kisses to your damp forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“liar,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. only warmth. “you cried, y’know.”

you let out a breathy laugh, snuggling closer. “you were relentless.”

he clicked his tongue, one of his hands finding the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, the other resting on the small of your back, holding you close.

you melted into his chest, sighing against his skin. “you’re so warm…”

he smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “duh. i’m literally made of explosions, dumbass.”

you lightly smacked his chest, making him chuckle. but his teasing quickly faded as he tilted your chin up, crimson eyes searching yours. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your overstimulated tears.

“seriously, though,” he murmured, quieter now. “you okay?”

your heart squeezed at how gentle he was being. how, despite how rough he could be, how demanding, he never once forgot to take care of you afterward. you leaned into his touch, nuzzling his palm.

“i’m perfect,” you smiled sleepily. “because of you.”

“tch. sappy little shit," katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, looking away. his ears definitely got redder.  “you sure, though? i didn’t—y’know… go too hard?”

you hummed, tilting your head to press a lazy kiss to his jaw. “i'm fine, katsuki. i promise." 

he just huffed, shifting to grab a towel from the nightstand. “yeah, well, you better be. was holdin’ back just for you.”

you snorted. “that was you holding back?”

katsuki shot you a look but didn’t argue. instead, he started cleaning you up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. he was quiet as he worked, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“…was it really okay?” his voice was quieter now, hesitant in a way he rarely was.

you cupped his cheek, running your thumb over the sharp line of his jaw. “yes. i’d tell you if it wasn’t, katsuki.”

his crimson eyes searched yours for a long moment before he finally exhaled, tension melting from his shoulders. “good.”

he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then finally your lips, lingering there as if he never wanted to pull away.

“cause next time, i’m makin’ you cry even harder.”

you groaned, shoving his face away as he laughed, the sound deep and full of warmth. 

katsuki didn’t say anything for a moment after—just stared at you, his expression completely unguarded. no sharp smirks, no cocky grins—just raw, unfiltered devotion.

he stared at you like you’d just hung the damn moon. like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.  

you reached up to brush a few stray strands of hair from his forehead, and he caught your wrist midair, holding it for just a second before bringing it to his lips. the kiss he pressed against your palm was barely there, but it sent warmth blooming in your chest.

“you’re lookin’ at me funny,” you murmured, voice drowsy.

katsuki huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t look away. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you smiled lazily back at him. “like i just saved a bunch of kids from a burning building or something."

his smirk was faint, more of a ghost of amusement than anything. he pressing lazy kisses along your wrist, trailing them down to the inside of your palm. “you didn’t save a bunch of kids. you’re just—you. and i dunno what the hell i’d do without that."

your chest ached at the raw honesty in his voice, but before you could say anything, katsuki pulled you in even closer, pressing his face against your shoulder, like he was trying to hide.

“go to sleep,” he grumbled, voice muffled against your skin. “say any dumb shit about it, and i’ll smother you.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you curled against him, feeling the way his arms locked around you just a little tighter. “mhm. goodnight, katsuki.”

and then you smiled—sleepy, content, completely at ease in his arms.

katsuki stiffened. just for a second. just enough for you to feel the way his breath hitched, the way his hold on you tightened like he was trying to keep himself together.

fuck.

that damn smile. that look on your face. like he was your whole world. like you trusted him. like you loved him.

he clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly through his nose, like that would do anything to calm the way his heart was fucking pounding.

"goodnight." 

he was fucked. absolutely, completely, and hopelessly fucked.

because thats when katsuki bakugo realized he was in love with you. and he couldn't do anything about it.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

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[zepskies]

Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

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[velvetvisionsaurora]

Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader

Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!

When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.

As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.

‼️NSFW Announcement‼️ This is the only announcement on a chapter I’ll be doing, so if you’re under 18 do not attempt to read from this chapter on. I do not go very mild when I write smut, this is the tamest I’ll be going so if you don’t like it and don’t want it don’t continue. I don’t let you know when smut starts and ends so read with caution. I also know knotting is a big part in a/b/o lore, however I’m not a big fan of it. I mention it, I acknowledge that it’s a thing and respect it but I don’t go into detail. My characters in this don’t wrap it up, it’s not good irl. Always wrap it up! Enjoy💜

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Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️

Chapter 9: Breaking Point

The week following the pool incident had been a study in escalating tension. Whatever barriers had been holding the members back seemed to have crumbled completely after Hongjoong's public kiss, leaving you navigating a minefield of heated glances, lingering touches, and barely concealed desire from seven different alphas.

Your body felt like it was on fire constantly now. Even with your scent blockers firmly in place, your omega seemed to be responding to their collective alpha attention in ways that left you restless, overheated, and aching for something you couldn't quite name. Sleep had become nearly impossible, your dreams filled with phantom scents and touches that left you waking up disoriented and wanting.

Wooyoung and San had become your constant shadows, their natural affectionate natures now amplified to an almost overwhelming degree. Gone were the casual touches—replaced by deliberate cuddling sessions that left your skin tingling and your heart racing.

"You look tired, Tulip," San had observed just that morning, settling beside you on the couch where you'd been reviewing schedules. Without asking permission, he'd pulled you against his side, his arm wrapping around you with possessive comfort. "Rest for a bit."

The warmth of his body against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing, should have been soothing. Instead, it had sent electric currents through your nervous system, your omega practically purring at the alpha contact while your rational mind struggled to maintain professional boundaries.

Wooyoung had appeared moments later, as if summoned by some invisible signal, settling on your other side and casually draping his legs across yours. "Group cuddle session?" he'd suggested with that mischievous smile, though his eyes held a heat that had nothing to do with playfulness.

"I'm supposed to be working," you'd protested weakly, even as your body had instinctively relaxed between them.

"Work can wait," Wooyoung had murmured, his fingers beginning to play with strands of your hair. "Taking care of our Tulip is more important."

The possessive "our" had sent a shiver down your spine that both alphas had definitely noticed, judging by their satisfied expressions.

Mingi and Yunho had taken a different approach, but no less effective in driving you to distraction. Every interaction seemed to involve some excuse for physical contact—Mingi's hand on the small of your back as he guided you through doorways, Yunho's fingers brushing yours for just a moment too long when passing you documents.

"You've got an eyelash," Yunho had said yesterday, appearing beside your desk with that bright smile that never failed to make your heart skip. Before you could protest, his thumb had gently brushed against your cheek, the touch so tender it had made your breath catch.

"There," he'd murmured, showing you the non-existent eyelash on his finger. "Make a wish."

The intimacy of the moment, the way his eyes had lingered on your face, had left you speechless and flustered in a way that had clearly pleased him immensely.

Even Jongho and Yeosang, typically the most reserved of the group, had begun showing their interest in ways that surprised you. Jongho had started bringing you small gifts—your favorite coffee in the morning, a book he thought you'd enjoy, a small potted plant for your desk. Each offering came with minimal explanation but maximum impact, his dark eyes studying your reaction with quiet intensity.

Yeosang's approach was more subtle but perhaps more devastating. He'd begun engaging you in deeper conversations, his perceptive observations and thoughtful questions creating an intimacy that was purely intellectual but no less affecting. Yesterday, he'd spent an hour discussing a book you'd both read, his quiet voice and insightful commentary drawing you into a bubble of connection that had felt almost as intimate as physical touch.

"You have a beautiful mind," he'd said as you'd wrapped up the conversation, the simple compliment delivered with such sincerity that it had stayed with you for hours.

And then there was Hongjoong. The leader had become bold in a way that left you constantly on edge, stealing moments whenever you found yourselves alone. A kiss pressed against your temple as he'd leaned over to check something on your computer. His lips brushing your knuckles when you'd handed him a document. Yesterday, he'd cornered you in the supply closet, pressing you against the wall for a kiss that had left you breathless and wanting more.

"I can't stop thinking about the pool," he'd murmured against your lips, his hands framing your face with reverent care. "About how you felt in my arms."

The memory alone was enough to make heat pool low in your belly, your omega responding to his alpha presence with an intensity that sometimes frightened you.

But it was Seonghwa's behavior that confused you most. The eldest member seemed to be the only one maintaining his distance, though you often caught him watching you with an expression you couldn't quite decipher. There was warmth in his gaze, certainly, and something that might have been longing, but he kept himself carefully apart from the increasingly bold advances of his packmates.

The contradiction was maddening. You found yourself craving his touch, his attention, in a way that seemed disproportionate to his reserved behavior. Sometimes you caught him looking at you with such intensity that your skin would flush, but he never acted on whatever he was feeling, maintaining that friendly but professional distance that left you wondering if you were imagining the heat in his gaze.

Your omega was becoming increasingly agitated by the mixed signals, by the constant state of arousal without resolution. Your scent blocker felt like both a necessity and a prison—protecting your secret while preventing you from fully experiencing the alpha pheromones that your body was clearly craving.

You'd started having moments where you seriously considered removing the blocker, just to see what would happen. The thought terrified and thrilled you in equal measure. What would it be like to smell Hongjoong's scent?!Wooyoung's ? San's? How would they react to your own scent of jasmine and vanilla?

But fear always won out. Fear of changing the dynamic irrevocably, of complicating your professional relationship, of facing the reality of what you all seemed to be building toward.

---

Tonight, that careful balance finally shattered.

You'd retreated to the guesthouse early, claiming exhaustion from the day's packed schedule. In reality, you'd reached your limit for alpha attention without resolution, your body feeling like a live wire from the constant state of arousal their touches and glances induced.

You'd taken a cold shower, hoping to calm your overheated system, but even that hadn't helped. Now you sat on your bed in just a oversized t-shirt and shorts, your skin still feeling too sensitive, too aware. Every nerve ending seemed attuned to the main house across the garden, to the eight alphas who had somehow become the center of your universe.

The sharp knock on your door made you jump, your heart immediately racing. It was nearly ten PM—late for casual visits, but you'd learned that normal rules didn't seem to apply to your relationship with the members anymore.

"Come in," you called, expecting perhaps Hongjoong with another stolen moment, or maybe Seonghwa checking on your wellbeing with his characteristic concern.

Instead, Wooyoung burst through the door with the barely contained energy of someone who'd reached his breaking point. His hair was disheveled as if he'd been running his hands through it, his eyes bright with something between desperation and determination.

"I can't do this anymore," he announced without preamble, his voice rough with emotion. "I can't pretend that what's happening between us is normal. I can't keep playing these games where we touch and flirt and dance around what we all know is true."

You stood slowly from the bed, your heart hammering against your ribs as you took in his appearance. There was something wild about him tonight, something unleashed that sent both thrill and alarm through your system.

"Wooyoung," you began carefully, "what are you—"

"I'm talking about this," he interrupted, gesturing between you with frustrated energy. "About the way you look at me, at all of us. About the way your pulse races when I touch you. About the way you practically melted into Hongjoong in that pool."

Heat flooded your cheeks at his words, at the accuracy of his observations. "I don't know what you—"

"Don't," he said firmly, taking a step closer. "Don't pretend you don't feel it. Don't lie to me, to yourself, about what's happening here." His voice dropped to that register that always made your omega sit up and take notice. "I see how you watch us, Tulip. I see how you respond to our touch. And I know you want this as much as we do."

Your breath caught in your throat as he moved closer, the space between you shrinking with each step. "Wooyoung, we can't—this is complicated—"

"Why?" he demanded, stopping just inches away from you. "Because you work for us? Because there are eight of us? Because it doesn't fit into neat little boxes that society approves of?"

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the golden flecks starting to appear in his eyes as his alpha nature responded to the charged atmosphere between you. Your own omega was practically vibrating with need, with the desire to close the distance between you, consequences be damned.

"Because I'm not who you think I am," you whispered, the admission slipping out before you could stop it.

Wooyoung's expression softened slightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek with surprising gentleness. "Then tell me who you are. Tell me what you're hiding. Tell me why you think it matters more than this."

His thumb brushed across your lower lip, and you couldn't suppress the small gasp that escaped at the contact. The sound seemed to break whatever restraint he'd been clinging to.

"Fuck it," he muttered, and then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was everything you'd been craving and more—desperate, passionate, claiming. His hands tangled in your hair as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours with an urgency that matched your own. You melted into him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

This wasn't the playful, teasing Wooyoung you'd grown accustomed to. This was pure alpha, pure need, pure desire finally unleashed.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his eyes were fully golden, the alpha glow unmistakable in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

"There," he said, his voice rough with satisfaction and desire. "No more pretending. No more games. Now tell me you don't feel it too."

Looking into his transformed eyes, feeling the way your body hummed with rightness at his touch, you realized that your carefully constructed walls had finally crumbled completely. There was no going back from this moment, no returning to the professional distance you'd tried so hard to maintain.

"I feel it," you whispered, the admission both terrifying and liberating. "I feel all of it. With all of you."

Wooyoung's smile was triumphant and tender as he laid you down. His breathing hard above you, radiating energy and satisfaction, but the hunger in his gaze said he was far from done.

He pulled back just enough to drag his shirt off, tossing it somewhere into the darkness, before returning to you—his bare chest warm against your skin. His hands settled at your hips and he tugged at the waistband of your shorts; there was no pretense of patience, just a raw urgency as he peeled them away, taking your underwear with them.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, eyes devouring every newly revealed inch, heat and reverence warring there. “Wish I could breathe you in—wish I could drown in your scent—” He cut himself off, frustration flaring, but his hands were sure as he spread your legs, kneeling between them. “Guess I’ll just have to taste you instead.”

Then his mouth was on you. The first slow drag of his tongue from your entrance up to your clit was deliberate—so, so deliberate—and your hips tried to jerk from the bed in answer. Wooyoung growled, low in his throat, holding you down as his tongue circled, flicked, lapped, learning your responses by sound and the tremors in your thighs.

The world narrowed to sensation: the heat of his tongue, the tease of his lips, his hair against your inner thighs, rough and ticklish. He was messy about it—no smooth choreography, just hunger and intent, making up for everything he couldn’t sense with pure appetite. You whimpered his name, fingers curling in the sheets, desperate for anything to ground you.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, humming at your cry, then licked deeper—his tongue broad and hot, relentless—until there was only the build and build of pleasure, white-hot and unbearable. You were loud now, uncaring, every cry a thank you and a plea.

He only stopped when your thighs trembled against his cheeks, when you pleaded, broken-voiced, “Wooyoung, please—please, I need—I need—”

He growled “Let go. Now Tulip.”

You shattered with a cry, your whole body shaking.

When you finally catch your breath, body limp and aglow from Wooyoung’s unrestrained attention, you prop yourself on your elbows to look down at him. His hair is wild, lips slick and red, eyes smoky with pride and adoration—a little bit wrecked and loving it. The sight ignites something bold inside you.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for him, fingers curling into his hair to bring him up, capturing his lips in a hungry, grateful kiss. You taste yourself on him and he moans into your mouth as if he’s never wanted anything more. You pull him close, rolling so you’re on top, knees bracketing his hips.

He laughs softly, surprised and delighted, letting his head sink back into the pillows. “Oh?” His hands settle on your thighs, stroking them encouragingly. “You wanna take over, Tulip?”

You smile, feeling a thrill at the way his voice—husky and playful—wraps around you. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I want you like this.”

He bites his lower lip, a flush creeping up his throat as he looks at you spread over him. “Whatever you want, I’m yours tonight,” he whispers. “Show me what my Tulip wants.”

Your heart thuds, but the words make you bold. You drag your palms slowly down his torso, watching him gasp and arch into you, sensitive and eager for more.

You shift, settling between his legs, and slide your hands down until you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. Wooyoung lifts his hips with a helpless little sound. “Take ‘em off,” he pleads, needy but so gentle. “I want to feel you—your hands, your mouth, whatever you want to give. Please, baby.”

You oblige, slowly, teasing him with little grazes of your nails as you drag the fabric away. His cock is heavy and flushed, impossibly hard, and your mouth waters at the sight. The urge to please him, to unravel him as thoroughly as he did you, takes over.

You wrap your hand around him, just enough to make him hiss, then look up through your lashes. “Tell me what you like, Wooyoung.”

He groans, his head tipping back, eyes dark gold with want. “Touch me—just like that. A little tighter, ah—yeah, that’s good—I love the way your hands feel on me.” He cards his fingers through your hair, not pushing, just anchoring.

You stroke him, noting every twitch, every whispered curse. He’s unguarded with you, rolling his hips into your hand, whispering encouragements: “You—fuck, you’re so pretty like this. You look so good between my legs, Tulip. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You lean down, brushing the head of his cock with your lips, then your tongue, just a soft swirl. He shivers, his hand tightening in your hair. “God, yes—just like that, baby…take your time. Don’t rush. I just want to feel you.”

You tease him, kitten-licks at first, loving the way he gasps—so responsive, so vocal for you. You trace the vein along the underside, stroke him with your tongue, taking him in slowly, feeling the heat and weight of him on your lips.

Wooyoung’s voice becomes your guide, a constant thread of affirmation. “That’s it, yeah…ah, you’re driving me fucking crazy. You look incredible—don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

You work your mouth and hand together, building a rhythm, watching his face for every clue—he’s a mess for you, eyes squeezed shut, sweat beading at his brow, chest heaving with every ragged breath. You hum around him, and he bucks his hips, barely holding back.

Suddenly, urgency overtakes him. “Wait—wait—slow down, I don’t wanna come yet, not so fast—” He pulls your hair gently, guiding you off him, then dragging you up for a breathless kiss. “You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he pants, nuzzling into your neck, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect. I wanna last, I wanna remember every second with you.”

You giggle against his throat, giddy with power and affection, and grind your hips gently against his thigh. Wooyoung moans, hands sliding down to squeeze your waist, his cock pressed between you, slippery and aching. You reach down, stroking him again. 

You sink back down, taking him in hand and mouth once more, working him with careful, practiced flicks, all the while basking in his praise. “Yeah—fuck, yeah, you’re so good, Tulip…your mouth—your hands—can’t believe you’re doing this for me, letting me have you like this.”

When he starts to grow restless, hips flexing, you stroke him a little harder, licking the sensitive spot just beneath the tip. His breath stutters, his hand a tangle in your hair.

“Close—so close—baby, you gonna let me?” His words are a shudder, trembling with vulnerability and hope. “Gonna let me come for you? Want you to see, want you to know it’s you—only you—”

You hum your ‘yes’ and don’t let up, watching him unravel, pushed to the edge by just your mouth, your hand, and the knowledge that he’s yours to wreck, to comfort, to love. He groans your name—a long, strangled sound—and spills in your mouth and over your fingers, hips jerking upward.

He’s shaking in the aftermath, loose and glowing and utterly undone. You swallow, then crawl up to kiss his flushed cheek, his jaw, his lips. Wooyoung gathers you into his arms, pulling you close as if he never wants to let go.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, brushing stray hair from your forehead, thumb stroking your cheek. “Thank you. I could do this forever with you. I want to.”

He kisses you soft and deep, then lets his hand drift, stroking your back, grounding you both. In the quiet that follows, his voice makes you feel cherished, safe, and wanted—exactly as you are.

Next>>

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[queen-of-diamonds-xo]

Hey my darling. Hope you're doing well xx

Please disregard this if you're no longer taking requests.

However, could I please request an Oscar fic? The first time he calls reader "baby" he sees their reaction and how much they love it (think butterflies and major grinning) and makes it a habbit to use baby as a go to nickname for reader.

Love your work darling. Speak soon

🇦🇺💜 anon xx

Unexpected Pet Name (OP81)

Oscar Piastri x Reader {major fluff!}

A/N: OMG hi anon! I absolutely loved this idea, i hope i did it justice.

P.s i love you 🫶🇦🇺

Masterlist

🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍

.

it was early when Oscar finally made it home. Bordering delirium as he approaches the thirty-sixth hour of being awake.

Race weekends were always brutal, and without you by his side (a luxury he has come to depend on it seems) he just couldn’t sleep.

His heavy footsteps shuffled through the entryway, each muscle twisting and tightening as he walked. His shoulder screamed as his backpack and duffel bag thump to the ground.

Oscar breathes deep, the welcoming smells of home flooding his senses. A satisfying crack of his back as he stretched high. Eyes closed as he settled into the quiet, a small smile forming on his lips.

The golden rays of sunrise threatened to breach the curtains as Oscar quietly opened the door to your shared bedroom. Leaning heavy on the wooden door frame as his strained eyes fell on you, for the first time in forever it seemed.

Your body curled deep in the mattress. The large comforter of your king bed swallows your relaxed frame. Oscar counted six pillows on the bed, with a further three lying forgotten on the floor. Your hair lay tucked under the hood of your his hoodie.

Oscar felt his cheats tighten, blinking away a stinging tear. His watch announced with a splitting beat that his heart rate had spiked past resting. His fingers twitch at his sides as he fights to hold himself in place.

You just looked so peaceful. Like an angel he compared silently.

He stood like that for a moment, slightly creeping himself out as he watched you sleep. The steady rise and fall of your body with each breath. The slight twitch in your face muscles as you dream.

His stare breaking only to look up, thanking whatever god or dead guy who was watching over him. A silent prey of ‘what did i do to deserve such a wonder?’

He made his way silently around the bed, coming to sit by your side. His large hand reaching out for your cheek, the rough skin of his fingers sinking into the warmth.

He cursed silently as your eyes flutter open, a deep breath escaping you. Your hand coming to rest atop his as you blinked up at him.

Oscar swears he felt his mind fuzz to a stop as a crooked smile stretched onto your face. Your voice thick with sleep as you whisper

“Your home.”

You scanned his face, your sleep heavy eyes burning deep. He looked tired, a little worn. His eyes squinted and a smile that didn't quite reach to where it should. A dark shadow staining under each blood shot eye.

You sat up slow, maneuvering on the bed to give Oscar more space. You raise the blanket as Oscar slips under the sheets. One arm slipping under your head, the other winding itself around your waist. Coming to rest heavily as Oscar’s body relaxes into the mattress.

You two lay in silence for a moment, holding each other close as you both revel in each others presence. Your fingers tracing slow, delicate patterns over the decal of his McLaren tee, exploring the heated skin of his neck.

He spoke first, his voice gone gruff with fatigue. Hooded eyes trailing your face

”I missed you so much baby, never gonna let you go again.”

You felt your skin flush, attempting to hide your heating cheeks and quickly forming smile in the crook of his neck.

Oscar wasn’t one for pet names, at least in the six months you have been dating he hasn’t been.

But the way it rolled off his tongue, his accent thickened by sleep. You felt your tummy tightened, swallowing back an embarrassing giggle as your toes wiggled. And his voice, god his voice. Strung out from post race celebrations, gravely and torn. Laced with a thick layer of exhaustion, dropping lower with each word.

you had tried to hide it, your body betraying you as your muscles tensed. Wriggling against your boyfriend like a content worm.

Never would you think Oscar would call you that.

And you definitely didn't expect the effects of it.

But the thing about Oscar, he didn't miss anything when it comes to you. He could read you like an open book, you had even gone as far as accusing him of being a mind reader. He knew your every tell, and you sometimes hated that.

His body protested as he pulled you away from him, straining at your fleeting attempt to stay in place. He held you at an arm's distance, a glint now shining in his eyes. His hair falling onto the pillow as he tilted his head, studying your reaction to his words. A devilish grin slowly creeping onto his face.

You had gone red, your skin emanating a new kind of heat. Your eyes cast down, refusing to meet him. You lip pulled hard between your teeth as you desperately bite back a grin.

”what’s wrong, baby? Your looking a little flustered over there.”

Oscar captures your wrist, blocking your bashful attempt to strike his cheats. A laugh bubbling at your actions. His blunt call out of your behaviour had a new wave of butterflies straining your insides. Your smile now shining bright as you met his eyes, the deep brown orbs swirling with adoration and love.

Putting you out of your misery he pulls you close. Entwining your body once more, his larger frame holding you flush.

Your name quickly fell out of Oscar’s vocabulary.

The new nicknames taking its place over the course of a short nap. Oscar couldn’t help it. He was floored with your reaction, and would do anything to keep that glowing smile on your face. A perminate red tinge flushing your heated skin.

🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍🍂🤍

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[simamberrrrrrr]

Sheila hair

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ʚ look at this! Teacher @jcxhksy called our promo pics 'Strawberry Hard Candy' ✨🍓 And get this — my FIRST color combo got called *chef's kiss*, even the fit is fire! Living my best life , SO FREAKIN' GOOD!!! ɞ

ʚ The hair texture is still from teacher SIMANDY (@simandy), thanks! After I posted last time, I asked the teacher, and the teacher said that she didn’t find me annoying at all, and I was happy for a long time!😭💕 So! I always @ my teacher! ! Happy! ! ! I hope to pass on some of my happiness hehe~✨ ɞ

ʚ But actually I am not very satisfied with this hair, but I have tried my best to adjust it, maybe it is a little picky. I have to say a lot every time I post, and I am a little worried that you will not like to read it, but I guess those who don’t read it will just click on the download link hahahahahaha! ɞ

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ʚ If you use my cc please @ me, I will be filled with happiness. ɞ

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ʚ 这次的宣传图被薯条老师（@jcxhksy）称作草莓硬糖哈哈哈哈哈，而且这次第一次的配色就被夸完美了，甚至穿搭也被夸了，舒服了，爽！！！！ ɞ

ʚ 头发贴图依旧来自SIMANDY（@simandy）老师，致谢！上次发完帖子之后我就去问老师了，老师说一点也不觉得我烦，我当时开心了好久呢！所以！我每次都要@老师！！开心！！！希望可以传递一些我的快乐嘿嘿.... ɞ

ʚ 但其实这个头发我不是很满意，但是已经尽力调整了，可能会有点挑娃子。每次发帖子都要说很多话，有点担心大家不爱看，但我估计不看的就直接点下载链接了哈哈哈哈哈哈，担心一秒！ ɞ

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[witchywithwhiskey]

say yes + andy barber

(for your fantastic sweethearts game!)

🩷♥️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

the demon of your dreams

pairing: soft!dark incubus!andy barber x female reader

summary: you catch the attention of an incubus on the day before valentine's day—and it turns out your fates are more intertwined than either of you expected.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), true mates, dubcon/noncon (in this fic an incubus requires consent for certain things but it technically starts off as noncon), somnophilia, teratophilia/monsterfucking, smut, masturbation (m), fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, come play, cock warming, choking, breath play, biting/marking, thigh fucking, some overstimulation, dirty talk, praise kink, very brief degradation, pet names (sweet thing/sweet girl), aftercare, referenced marathon sex, happy ending

word count: 5.5k

a/n: thank you, Aspen, for letting me flail at you because i had SO many ideas for this particular character + prompt combination. what i love about Andy is that he can fit into a super fluffy or soft dark or super dark story very easily. (i mean, that's true of a lot of characters, but i feel like i usually lean one way or the other with most characters and with Andy, i'm never quite sure where i want to go.) anyway, this one might require a bit more suspension of disbelief than normal and sorry if the ending is a bit rushed, work was BRUTAL today 🫠 thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy this filthy little fic!! ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

For an incubus like Andy Barber, Valentine’s Day was his favorite day of the year.

There was something particularly decadent about the yearning he sensed among lonely, single women on Valentine’s Day, and he always fed well in the days leading up to the actual holiday. Though the demon had to be careful not to feed too much on any one woman, he never failed to gorge himself on the offerings in the city.

But then he came across you in a coffee shop on the morning before Valentine’s Day, and he hadn’t sensed yearning quite so exquisite as yours in all his many years walking the earth. Watching you from across the shop, he knew you would make an especially delectable meal, his eyes following you closely as he sipped on his Americano. 

You hid your emotions well, Andy noticed, keeping them masked beneath a friendly exterior, a welcoming smile on your pretty face while you chatted with the barista making your drink. To all the world, you looked like anyone else with a charming—if tired—disposition, but to the incubus, you were churning with all the emotions that made you a meal. 

The demon could sense the sadness lurking beneath your smile from the moment you’d stepped into the establishment, and he could practically taste the desperate longing clinging to your soul like a drop of hot chocolate caught on the corner of your lip. 

You wanted, more than anything, to be the object of someone’s lust, to find someone you felt safe enough with that you could be turned into the lustful creature you yearned to be. You wanted someone to lick the chocolate from your lips and sate your desire.

And Andy Barber knew he was the demon for the job. 

In generations past, Andy might’ve used his magic to slip into your dreams, seducing you with images of lust until he received the acquiescence he required to join with you and feed on your soul. But, as the incubus’s years had worn on, he’d found he enjoyed a more physical approach.

There was something so much more satisfying about touching a woman with his fingers, feeling the warmth of her body and breathing in the scent of her skin. He enjoyed the feeling of a woman’s soft curves beneath his palms, groping her and learning what made her gasp gently in her sleep. 

Then, the demon would use her slumberous, disoriented mind and her aching, needy body against her to get what he needed—that permission that allowed him to sink into her body and feed on her soul. 

It was so much more satisfying, and so much more fun, too. 

Of course, that didn’t mean Andy didn’t use his magic to get into your apartment. He unlocked your door with a wave of his fingers, closing and locking it behind him before he masked the footfalls of his shoes as he made his way to your bedroom. 

There, he paused in the doorway and took a moment to look at you, appreciate you while you slept, completely unaware that there was a demon in your room.

A smile curled Andy’s mouth when he discovered that you were far from an elegant sleeper, your body sprawled across your bed beneath the blankets, one leg hiked up while the other curled around a pillow clutched close to your chest. Your face was buried in another pillow, your indelicate snores muffled by its softness. 

And yet…you were cute. Precious even.

Andy felt something fluttery deep in his chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his black heart. Instead of looking too closely at the feeling, he ignored the sensation, chalking it up to the excitement he felt knowing you were going to make for a particularly delicious meal.  

The demon slunk into your room, clinging to the shadows as he moved around to the side of the bed where you lay and tried to gauge whether you were a light sleeper. You didn’t stir when he deliberately stepped on a squeaky floorboard, so he decided to ease closer, his fingertips trailing up your body over the blankets piled on top of you. 

When he pulled them carefully from your slumbering body, a little whimper slipped from your lips, a shiver wracking your shoulders as the cold licked against your skin. Andy quickly used his magic to warm up your room, making it a much more comfortable temperature for your nearly naked form. 

He watched you settle, his eyes roving over the curves of your body. Hungrily, he took in the dip of your waist and the flare of your hips, the way your thin nightshirt had ridden up to tease a glimpse of your perfectly rounded ass. Your thighs were parted, and Andy could just glimpse a hint of your panties, hiding your pretty pussy from sight.

His cock hardened behind his zipper and he nearly groaned at the sinful way your body called to his. Even if the yearning in your soul hadn’t been so enticing, Andy knew he would’ve been drawn to you by the desire you inspired just by existing. 

Once he was sure you were comfortable and had fallen back into a deep slumber, Andy finally allowed himself to touch you. 

His fingers trailed gently over your arms, skimming along your skin before smoothing down your side to your hips and thighs. There, he resisted the urge to dip between your legs just yet, instead learning the curves of your calves and the delicate contours of your ankles. 

All the while, Andy watched your face, monitoring your breathing to make sure you didn’t stir again. 

As he observed you, he noticed you relaxing even further, as if his touch soothed you. He felt another flutter in the proximity of his black heart, and, that time, he couldn’t ignore the way it started beating slightly faster. 

The organ often felt cold and dull in his chest, especially when he was in need of feeding, but it felt like it was coming to life in a way he’d never experienced before, not even after a satisfying meal. And it was all because of the way your body was instinctively relaxing into his touch. 

The demon could almost pretend it was him specifically you were melting for, that even though you hadn’t woken and hadn’t seen his face, he was the only one whose touch could have that effect on your body. 

Andy deliberately ignored the fact that, in all likelihood, you would’ve been soothed by a gentle touch from any man who might share your bed, because that thought inspired a concerning level of rage in him. No, he refused to think of anyone else in your bed but him. You were his.

For the night, at least, he reminded himself, pushing his possessive thoughts to the back of his mind to analyze later. He had much more important things to attend to with your warm body, which would soon be willing, splayed out in front of him like the most tempting meal. 

Finally, Andy allowed his fingers to slip beneath your nightshirt, tugging off your panties and nearly groaning when your hips raised instinctively to allow him to ease them down your thighs. He pulled them off and slipped them into his pocket, thinking nothing of the fact that he’d never taken a souvenir before. 

He was too busy focusing on the feel of your body beneath his fingertips. His hand slipped eagerly between your thighs, and he was surprised to find your soft pussy was already drenched. It felt fated that your body would have such a reaction to him since Andy’s cock was straining painfully against his zipper, aching to sink inside your perfect cunt.

The demon cupped your pussy in his palm, a ferocious possessiveness tearing through his chest as he felt you drip into his hand. You were his. His. His. 

His heart beat harder in his chest, the feeling of yearning in his own black soul so all-consuming, he didn’t have the wherewithal to notice it was completely out of character. 

After all, an incubus like Andy Barber didn’t get attached to his meals. He didn’t feel possessive or territorial over the women he fed on, like a wolf who might tear into anything that threatened to take his most precious lifeline away. 

But the demon could feel himself falling willingly into an obsession with you that wouldn’t be sated from just one night. He just didn’t know it yet.

Acting on instinct more than his typical intention of easing a woman into what he had planned, Andy freed his cock from the confines of his pants, taking himself in his palm while the fingers of his other hand explored your wet, warm pussy.

You were so soft, so hot, and so responsive when Andy sank a finger into your tight hole, a breathy moan slipping from your mouth. The demon felt the newly-familiar beating of his heart in his chest, and he suddenly craved even more of your sounds of pleasure, he wanted them to fill his ears for all eternity. 

Andy stroked his cock dispassionately, needing to take some of the edge off his arousal, but he made sure to squeeze the base tightly to ensure he didn’t cum too soon. All the while, he teased your body open with his deft fingers, preparing you to take his thick length.

When he slipped a second finger into your pussy and saw how easily you took him, he had to bite back a groan. His cock was leaking precum all over his fingers, as if it knew there was a warm hole to push inside and was begging Andy to finally put himself out of his misery by sinking into your sweet, pliant body.

The demon had to force himself to make sure you were ready, Andy carefully pushing a third finger into your pussy, and letting out a restrained growl at the sight of you taking three of his fingers. 

His mouth filled with drool as he watched you take him, the sudden desire to feast on your pussy nearly overwhelming him. He wanted to make you cum on his tongue and mouth for being such a good girl and taking everything he gave you. 

But he told himself that could come later—after he got the answer he needed to give you everything you deserved.

To tide himself over, Andy eased his fingers from your pussy and licked your juices from where they dripped down his hand, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. You tasted so fucking good, better than anything Andy had ever tasted in his long, long life. 

His groan was so loud in the quiet room that he nearly missed the little whimper of need you let out, your hips shifting like your body was seeking the intrusion that had been filling your tight hole. The sound reached Andy’s ears and his cock jumped in his hand, the amount of blood rushing to his dick nearly making him light-headed.

Finally—finally—Andy joined you in your bed, gently shifting your body into the center of the mattress so he could fit behind you. Your nightshirt was rucked up around our waist, and his cock slipped between your thighs like it was sliding home. The stiff length rubbed against your dripping slit while he pressed flush to your back, his arms gently curling around your body and pulling you into his chest.

A soft, sleepy moan spilled from your mouth and Andy wanted so badly to kiss the sound from your lips, to drink it down and feel it fill his lungs. 

Soon, he told himself. Soon he could kiss the moans from your lips and devour your mouth and ravage every inch of your body until you were well and truly his. But first he needed to get your acquiescence, and he needed to be careful with you until he got it. 

You’d already been laying mostly on your belly, and Andy shifted, covering your body with his own, rocking his hips gently to fuck your soft thighs. His cock dragged against your leaking slit with every smooth thrust, coating himself in your desire and making his heart beat furiously in his chest with the need to push inside your cunt, to claim you, to feed on you until he was more sated than he’d ever felt in his life.

Andy could sense the yearning in your soul deepening as your desire ratcheted up, even while you slept. Your swirling emotions thickened in the air around the bed until the demon felt nearly drunk on you. 

Your yearning, your soul—you yourself—were headier than anything Andy had ever experienced and it took all his self-control not to lose himself and rut you like the beast he was. 

First, he needed your permission. An incubus could only fuck and feed on a willing woman, and Andy needed you to be willing more than he’d needed anything else in his entire life. 

“Give yourself to me, sweet thing,” Andy murmured in your ear, the words coming easily after so many eons as an incubus—though the pet name was new. “Let me sink inside your divine cunt and let me drink on the longing in your heart. Let me feed on the lust in your soul and I’ll reward you with pleasure beyond your imagination.”

The demon could feel you stir beneath him, and his heart thudded painfully in his chest with a desperation he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. But it only pushed him to rock his hips faster, to grip your hip possessively while he fucked between your thighs, dragging the fat length of his cock against every inch of your dripping pussy.

Because of the rules of his kind, Andy needed your permission before he could push inside your body, but he could use every trick at his disposal to tempt you into giving him your acquiescence. An incubus wasn’t above using magic or trickery and though Andy preferred to seduce you with just his touch and his words, he would resort to magic if he needed to. 

But something told him he wouldn’t need to with you. Something told Andy that you were his, and he just needed to ask you sweet enough and you’d grant him the privilege of owning your body and soul for the rest of your natural life.

“Please, my sweet girl,” he rumbled in your ear, letting you hear how badly he wanted you, needed you. “Say yes.”

Thankfully for the demon, you hadn’t roused enough for your mind to wonder why there was a strange man in your bed begging to fuck you. It was clear from your soft, sleepy whimpers that you were still asleep enough to think it was simply a very real-feeling dream. 

Your hand reached back clumsily, your fingers curling around the back of Andy’s neck, using your hold to arch your spine and push your ass deeper into the demon’s lap. A keening sound spilled from your lips, your pussy gushing around the thick cock wedged between your thighs, and you finally gave your answer on a drowsy moan.

“Yes.” 

The word falling from your lips tipped you over the line from sleeping to waking, and you finally realized that what you were feeling wasn’t a dream. It was really happening. There was a man in your bed and, for some reason, you’d given him permission to be there. 

Andy could feel the change in your body, the way your body tensed in fear and confusion. It was natural, of course, and the demon had expected it. But what surprised him were the intricacies of your reaction—the way you still instinctively pulled him closer, your nails digging into the back of his neck, your legs squeezing together and trapping his cock against your pussy with your plush thighs. 

You wanted him, Andy was sure of it, even if your mind was struggling to come to the same conclusion your body had already reached. Oddly, Andy found himself wanting to soothe you, his hand skimming down your side like he was attempting to calm a wild animal.

“Shh, sweet thing, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Andy purred, feeling your muscles slowly relax beneath his hands. 

Every caress of his palm and sweet stroke of his fingers had you softening further, your body surrendering to his soothing touch. Soon, you were even letting your thighs fall open again and Andy rewarded you with a pleased rumbling sound and a kiss brushed to your cheek. 

He shifted his hips back, moving until the tip of his cock was pressed against your tight little hole. That made the muscles of your thighs go taut again, but the demon also heard the way your breath hitched in your throat, like you’d sucked in a gasp of anticipation, not fear. 

Andy gently kneaded your hip, his mouth grazing against the shell of your ear and tickling your skin with his beard. “Let me in, my sweet girl,” he cooed, prodding at your dripping cunt with his leaking tip. “I’ll make you feel so good, pretty thing.”

The soft, whispered pleas and praise from Andy’s lips had you relaxing again, your thighs spreading and your hips lifting in wordless offering. It was too perfect—you were too perfect. The demon couldn’t wait any longer. 

Andy pushed inside your wet heat, letting out a grunt of pleasure when he felt your tightness wrapping around his stiff length. You felt so good, your pussy clinging to his cock and sucking him deeper into the warm depths of your body. He slid home until he was buried to the hilt.

As soon as he was inside you, the world tipped violently on its axis, spinning around the demon in a vicious dizzying swirl that he knew was all in his head. 

It lasted only a second and by the time your bedroom came back into focus, Andy instinctively recognized that his entire universe had realigned, with you—your delicate human body and your fragile beating heart and your precious glowing soul—at the center of it.  

“You’re mine—mine,” Andy growled, his voice preternaturally deep and dark, his arms closing so tightly around your body that he heard the breathe exhale from your lungs and felt your heart beating against your ribcage.

A startled squeak fell from your lips and Andy suddenly realized he was holding you much too tightly, and that he was no doubt scaring you. His grip loosened, his hands moving to comfort you, kneading your soft flesh and groping your curves until you let out a soft, happy sigh. 

“I’ll take such good care of you, sweet thing,” the demon vowed in a husky voice filled with warmth. He nuzzled his face into your cheek, pressing sweet kisses to your jaw and neck, listening to your breathy little giggles at the rasp of his beard. “I only want to make you feel good, I won’t ever hurt you.”

“You…” Your voice was raspy with sleep, giving out on you before you could say what you wanted to say. Andy waited patiently while you swallowed and tried again. “You promise?” 

Andy could feel your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his lips and he smiled into your skin. You were human, so you hadn’t felt what Andy had when your bodies had joined, the fusing of your spirits, and if you needed reassurance with words that he would cherish you and protect you for the rest of your days, then he would happily give it to you.

“Of course, my sweet girl, I swear it.”

The last of the tension that had been lingering in your muscles finally drained out of you, and Andy’s cock pushed another inch deeper, the tip brushing against a spot inside you that had your walls clenching down hard on his length. 

The demon groaned in pleasure, pulling his hips back and sliding into you again, muffling a groan into the crook of your neck when you squeezed him so exquisitely. 

“You feel so good, sweet girl, so perfect,” he murmured into your skin, fucking you in short, rocking thrusts that had you gasping and whimpering softly. “You’re taking me so fucking well, such a good fucking girl.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Andy caught the pleased smile that curled the edges of your mouth at his praise. But then you were turning your face into your pillow and muffling your moans into its softness. 

Andy didn’t like that one bit. He wanted to hear all of your sounds of pleasure—they were his, just like the rest of you—so he wrapped his hand around the front of your throat. Gently enough so he he didn’t hurt you, he lifted your head from the pillow, rumbling a pleased sound in his chest when he could hear every whimper and moan that fell from your lips.

“Good girl, let me hear you—let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Andy urged, rocking his hips harder into you, his cock spearing deep into your tight cunt with every thrust. 

The tips of his fingers dug a little deeper into the sides of your neck and you moaned even louder, your cunt clutching at the demon’s cock like a vise while the rest of your body melted further into his hold. It was like you’d been waiting for him to come along and take control of you, of your very breathing, and it sent Andy reeling once again.

You were perfect. Perfect. So perfect that even that word didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you’d been made for Andy, and he’d been made for you. A perfect match. A true mate.

“Oh god, wh-who are you?” you asked, your breathy, pleasure-soaked voice pulling Andy back into the moment. 

The demon nearly chuckled at the question. It was a little late for you to be asking such a thing when his cock was buried to the hilt in your cunt and every thrust of his hips pushed you closer and closer to the edge of your release. But he didn’t want you to take offense, so he wracked his lust-drunk brain for an answer, finally settling on something close enough to the truth.

“I’m the demon of your dreams, sweet thing,” he rumbled in your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “The one you conjured with the desperate longing in your soul—the yearning to be fucked, to be taken, to be owned, thoroughly and fully.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t conjure anything—I swear,” you babbled, but Andy’s fingers tightened around the sides of your throat, cutting off your protests. The way he choked you only made your cunt gush and flutter between your thighs, and Andy reveled in the feeling of your slick channel gripping his hard cock.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, sweetheart, I know exactly what your soul yearns for, and I’m more than happy to oblige,” Andy purred, raking his teeth down your cheek before nipping at your jaw. 

He was holding onto your neck too tightly for you to make a sound, but he felt your throat work against his palm and your pussy spasm around his cock at his filthy words. He choked you a little harder and sank his teeth into your shoulder through your nightshirt, going crosseyed and nearly cumming when you clenched down hard around him.

“What your soul yearns for is a good hard fucking,” Andy rasped when he pulled his teeth away from your shoulder, moving back to murmur in your ear. “Now, take it like a good slut and I’ll let you thank me later.”

Andy picked up the pace of his hips, pounding harder into you. The demon fucked you into the mattress while he choked the breath from your lungs, giving you only enough air to remain conscious while he savaged your soft, warm cunt with his brutal cock.

It wasn’t long before he felt you reaching the edge of your release, and he dug his other hand beneath your body, pinning you to the bed with his hips while he fucked you ferociously and rubbed your clit. You were helpless when the demon demanded you give him your pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet thing, cum for your demon,” Andy urged.

You shattered apart on a silent scream, your mouth wide open and eyes rolling back into your head while your pleasure consumed you. Your body shook beneath Andy’s larger form, your tight pussy strangling his cock and dragging him over the edge right after you.

Andy buried his face in the curve of your neck, groaning his release loudly into your skin while his hips stuttered and finally pressed flush to your ass. He buried his cock in your pussy and spilled his cum into the depths of your womb, flooding your body with his seed while he fed on your soul. 

Out of habit, he was careful not to take too much, but he could sense that there was no such thing when it came to you. That realization made him groan all over again, another spurt of cum spilling into your cunt while he gorged himself on you until he was sated, your pussy still fluttering with the aftershocks of your release.

For a long moment, the two of you caught your breath together, Andy’s hand having loosened around your neck, though he still held you with your back pinned against his chest. He almost tightened his hold again when he felt your head moving, but you only turned your head to nuzzle your face into his beard and he rumbled a pleased sound in his chest, a smile curving his mouth. 

With a gentleness he’d never known himself to possess, Andy eased his softening cock from your pussy, enjoying the way your combined releases spilled across your thighs. 

He paused, scooping up his cum with his fingers and pushing it back into your hole, making you shudder and whine at the overstimulation. The demon shushed you softly, pressing kisses to your cheek and the edge of your jaw until he was done. 

Then, he rolled onto his back and tugged you with him, tucking you under his arm and propping his head up with the other hand. You still wore your nightshirt, and he was still clad in most of his clothes, his pants only opened enough for his cock, but he wanted to hold you a little bit longer before he forced himself to move from the bed.

You lifted your head and looked at the demon, the two of you hanging in a suspended silence while you regarded each other. 

For the first time since he’d slunk into your bedroom, Andy got a good look at your face, and his heart thumped heavily in his chest at the beauty of you. The slope of your nose, the curve of your mouth, and the intelligence in your eyes—it was all gorgeous to the demon.

As he stared at you, you looked at him in return, your eyes darting over his face while you took in his features—his crystal blue eyes and straight nose and the dark beard framing his soft mouth. Your expression was unreadable, but then a small smile curved the edges of your soft mouth, and your eyes warmed. You didn’t seem to hate what you saw, at least. 

“I’ll answer all your questions,” Andy promised, his gaze falling to your lips, the desire to kiss you gripping him and refusing to let go. “But first…” He trailed off, dragging you up his body while his hand cradled your head, moving you so he could slant his mouth to yours. 

The incubus kissed you gently at first, with just a brush of his lips, as if he was asking for your permission all over again. When you sighed happily and melted into him, your fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck, he knew you were giving yourself to him willingly, gladly, wholly. 

Andy kissed you harder then, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips and seeking entrance that you eagerly gave him. He slid into your mouth, groaning at your sweet taste, and explored you thoroughly while you clung to him and kissed him back.

When your hips began to rock greedily against Andy’s thigh, your slick pussy leaving a wet spot on his pants, he finally pulled away and gave you a wolfish grin.

“Does my sweet girl need her demon’s cock again?” he teased playfully before nipping at your lip and drinking down your moan while he soothed it with his tongue. 

“Yes, please,” you murmured sweetly, making Andy chuckle. 

But the demon wasn’t about to let your plea go unanswered. He rolled you onto your back and took the opportunity to kick his pants off his legs before sliding home with one thrust. The slick of your combined releases made it easy and you both groaned as he filled you up.

“Good,” he growled, clutching you tight beneath his body and encouraging your arms and legs to wrap around his broad, muscular form. “Because I need to be buried in your cunt for the rest of my fucking life.” His voice was a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine and made you clutch him tighter, meeting every thrust with your hips while he fucked you into the mattress.

It wasn’t until the sky began to lighten from a midnight blue to a softer shade of sapphire, the sun dawning on the morning of Valentine’s Day, that the two of you were finally sated enough for you to ask all the questions that had been rattling around in your head since you woke up to the demon in your bed.

Andy answered you with the truth—every bit of it—not even questioning that he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. He told you about what he was and how he’d been drawn to you from the moment he’d sensed you. 

You were skeptical at first, of course, but when he flashed you a look at his true eyes—dark pools of inky blackness like the pits of hell—and showed you a glimpse of his tail, he could tell that you started to believe him. It surprised him how much he wanted you to believe him, so it was a relief when you finally did.

Then, Andy told you about the stories of an incubus’s true mate. He hadn’t believed them until he’d met you, he explained, but a true mate was the one person in all the world that an incubus could feed on and never harm. They were literally made to be together.

Gently, as if worrying that it would be the part you couldn’t accept, he told you that he believed you were his—his true mate, the one person meant for him.

It took you a long moment to process that information, but once you did, you laughed wildly, happily, and pulled him in for a kiss. You were smiling too much to deepen it, so you settled for brushing butterfly kisses all over Andy’s face, making him smile, then grin, then laugh along with you. 

“Y’know, I would find out my soulmate is a demon on Valentine’s Day,” you said, giggling and falling back down against Andy’s chest. You curled into his side, pressing your face into his sternum and brushing another kiss over where his heart was beating in his chest.

Your comment reminded Andy of what day it was and he squeezed you in his arms. “Be my valentine?” he asked playfully, pressing a smile into the crown of your head. But he couldn’t wait for your answer, urging you, “Say yes, sweet girl, say yes.” 

“Yes, of course, my sweet demon,” you purred, throwing a leg over Andy’s body and sliding on top of him. 

Andy’s cock, which he’d thought for sure needed at least a few more hours of rest after the long night of fucking, valiantly stirred to life between your thighs. You reached between your bodies, slipping his half-hard length into your warm pussy and settling down on his chest, breathing a soft sigh of contentment. 

The two of you fell asleep like that, your soft, perfect body keeping Andy’s cock warm while you held each other close. As he drifted off, the demon felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he’d never even dreamed he could achieve in his long, long life of walking the earth.

From that day on, Andy’s life was never the same. It was happier and more fulfilling and he never wanted for anything, not while you were in his life—and in his arms and in his bed. Together, you celebrated holidays and birthdays and life achievements as you grew together, but one day was still the most special.

For an incubus like Andy Barber, Valentine’s Day was his favorite day of the year. Not because of all the lonely, single women in the world, but because it was the day he’d found his true mate, the love of his life—it was the day he’d found you.

sweethearts game masterlist

[monarchberrysblog]

hello there! 21, but going on anon. could i request a pregnant reader who is feeling incredibly insecure about her body. after an instance where a woman openly flirts and asks miguel out in front of her, she breaks down crying. miguel reassures her and they start having the craziest, wildest, hottest sex imaginable

GROWING PAINS

✭ 🔞 Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader ✭

✭ summary: pregnancy is a challenge, not for the morning sickness or having the urge to pee every other step but for the outside challenges that create tension.

✭ content warning: mentions of morning sickness (if you have emetophobia, skip the first five paragraphs), degenerate home-wrecker, comfort, pregnancy sex, and p-in-v penetration.

✭ word count: +2.1k words

✭ (a/n): let me get a crack at it 😋 I had fun working on this 💜🪻 (if there are errors I missed, please let me know!)

MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED

The nausea of the day came in like waves during a full moon at the beach. The smell of toilet water and bleach greeted your nose while kneeling in front of the toilet before you. Dry heaving became a regular habit as the smell of toilet water didn’t contribute to the nauseating sensation.

“Are we okay, cariño?” His voice sent chills down your spine as you rested your head on the toilet seat. “No…” You whined, sounding like a child who had their toy taken away. “C’mon, don't rest your head right there…” Miguel cooes to you.

A low groan escapes your throat as you wait in anticipation to throw up, already wanting the feeling to pass by. “Do you want some tea? It'll help with the morning sickness.” He suggests to you before kneeling next to you and rubbing your lower back slowly.

“Yeah…” You groaned out before your body lurched another heave out of you.

“It’s okay…” He whispers quietly and holds your hair back. “Let it out if you need to.” He blows air to your face, cooling you down from the warm sensation you feel all over your body. But the salvation in your mouth still lingered.

“Thanks…”

/

“Miguel!” You called out to him from the bathroom, looking down at your swelling belly. “Yes, cariño?” He steps into view, returning from his morning workout. A soft kiss on the forehead gives you small butterflies in your stomach before you remember why you called him in.

“Can you please get more coconut butter at the store? I need some more for the stretch marks.” You raised (his) your hoodie to reveal the glistening stretch marks and slightly swelling belly.

“Hmm, did we run out already?” He makes his way over before he ruffles your hair and looks through the medicine cabinet. “Could have sworn we had some.” He mumbles before his palm rests on your belly, allowing his thumb to caress the marks.

“No, we ran out.” You add, getting on your tiptoes to peek at the medicine cabinet for the umpteenth time.

He nods after his eyes mindlessly scan the pill bottles, toiletries, and some of your make-up items. He clicks his tongue and moves his palm away from your belly. “Yeah, I'll get you some more, cariño. Let me jump in the shower first and then go to the store. I don't need to smell like sweat.”

The comment made you pout. The post-workout smell always lured you in, like catnip. You could cling near him and bask in his smell if you wanted to.

“Do you want to join me?” You nod eagerly, taking off the hoodie and tossing it at him.

/

“Do you want to go to the bathroom, sweetheart?” This is the same umpteenth question he asked you while you walked around your local mall down. “No, I'm fine.” He lightly squeezes your hand and gives you the look. The “you better go” look, as Miguel always fell victim to making frequent stops in gas stations or stores to satisfy your bladder whenever the two of you drove around.

“Just go, baby…” Miguel sighs, patting your lower back before he playfully spanks your rear.

You huff before you shuffle into the public restroom while resting your hand on your swelling tummy.

The sight was always amusing for Miguel; it was adorable—the sundress, the comfy sandals, and your hair neatly done. But the adorable sight was interrupted almost immediately. Two hands grasp his arm with such a grip that it can make anyone’s muscle ache from under the skin, even enough to bruise the muscle. Miguel shrugs it off and looks over to the source. “Aren’t you handsome?” The voice coaxed him before her hands squeezed his bicep. He shrugs his arm away and looks over to the bathrooms instead.

“I’m married.” Miguel’s statement lingered in the air before she looked at his arm and took in the sight of him like he was a tall glass of water.

“So am I.” She giggles before she looks up at Miguel with doe eyes. The discomfort arose in his stomach as if he had had a terrible dinner waiting to be released.

“Where’s your husband then?” He questions, hearing the fear in his voice. He shrugs her hand away from his arm again and waits at the bathroom in anticipation for his little wife, you, to return. But the yapping woman continued to speak, not getting any social signals that Miguel wasn't interested.

“He’s at—” Her words cut off before her features go ghost white, enough to mistake her for a blank piece of printer paper waiting to be scribbled on with a permanent marker.

“Miguel.”

A smile of relief paints his features as he walks over to you and gently takes your hand. Your attention is on the woman, seeing her twirl her hair with her fingers. She only giggles and immediately stops when she sees your swelling belly underneath your sundress. “Oh honey, I bet you can't satisfy your husband while you look like you're about to pass out.” She continues to yap, not caring about the looks of disgust from other women around the area. “Cariño, let’s go.” Miguel urges, not comfortable with the woman now harassing you and, arguably, your unborn child.

“Married men are allowed to cheat on their pregnant wives…”

You open your mouth, only to get tugged away from her by your husband, who does not want you to make a scene in such a public environment.

“Not interested. I love my wife dearly.” He steps in, lightly tugging you away from the uncomfortable space.

But hearing the words wasn't enough. For the past few weeks, you've been down on the stoops. Despite being your second trimester, the morning sickness faded away but lingered like a bug—the stretch marks on your belly, the constant bathroom stops, and the aching feet.

The weight of a burden rested on your shoulders like you were carrying pails of water up a mountain with your heart. It pulled you down into the earth’s core.

“C’mon, baby…” He pleads once again, gently tugging you away from the degenerate woman.

/

The car ride back home from the mall felt like the most uncomfortable situation for Miguel. Sure, it wasn't his fault, but it damn well felt like it was when this woman threw herself at him, having no good intentions.

Despite him pushing her away with his words, she relented nonstop, picking and picking at Miguel like a vet ticking fleas away from a stray cat.

He glanced at you, but you turned away from him while sitting on the passenger side, looking only at the window. He occasionally squeezed your thigh while trying to engage in a conversation. But it always ended immediately with your simple one-word answers.

/

Your portions were smaller during dinner. A small scoopful of your dinner was ‘enough’ for you.

“Cariño,” His voice breaks the silence on the dining room table while you move a small broccoli around with your fork. “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”

He frowns at the meek portions. This was your favorite dinner throughout your pregnancy. Now? You eat as if it were the thing you despised the most.

“Cariño, can we talk about what happened?”

“No, no, we don't.” You intervene, stopping his words.

He furrows his brows, and the subtle pout on his lips says that he isn't going to let this go. “…yes, we do.” He steps in, gently taking your hand in his.

“Cariño, honey.” His eyes soften, allowing his thumb to massage your knuckles in small circles.

“I am sorry—”

You shake your head, looking up from your plate. “No, don't apologize. It’s not even your fault.” You put his words to an end before you slide your hand away from his. “I feel…”

You sit back in your seat and put your hands up in defeat, feeling tears form. “I don't know.”

Nothing came to mind. Your brain was murky like muddy water on the side of the road. “I feel bloated and unappealing and pent up.” You expressed many words, but none nailed the coffin of feelings that were forming in your heart. His palm finds its way to your cheek and lovingly cups it while wiping away your tears.

“Hey,” His mellow tone greets you but doesn't fully envelope you. “Please, cariño. Take a moment to breath.”

“I don't know,” You sniffle a bit before looking at your swelling belly. “I don't like being unappealing.” The words finally found on your lips, spilling out like word vomit.

“No, baby. Look at you. You are beautiful.” He places his hand on your belly, slowly moving the sundress around with his touch. “You are carrying our baby, our beautiful baby. You've been nothing but glowing. You are glowing to the point where you light up a room. You make rooms look good. A room where our family will grow, all thanks to you.”

You laughed through your tears, hearing his ramble. But the simile managed to put the tears to an end. “You make spaces look good, feel good.” He slowly helps you from your seat, easing you to your feet. He stands behind you, bringing you close to his chest. His hands slowly move, soon placing them on the bottom of your swelling belly, lifting the belly upwards, easing your lower back.

You stagger back in relief, resting back on him. “There we go.” He whispers, seeing your brows relax and your eyes close blissfully. “But I think that woman is right. You look exhausted.”

You hum to his statement, caving in to his warmth and touch. “Yeah,” You exhale. “I am exhausted.”

“Do you want me to take care of you?”

“…please.”

/

"Let me know if it's too much, cariño." He whispers, slowly laying you down on your shared bed. Your back decompressed against the mattress, earning a sigh of relief from you. "It's never too much." Your reassuring smile puts him at ease in his lower stomach. "Just let me know, please." He still pleads, taking off his sweatshirt and disregarding it to some odd corner of the room. "Let's lift this..." His hands work their way to the hem of the dress, lifting the skirt up.

"Lay on your side for me, nena." He demands, slowly helping you lay down and surrounding your belly with toss pillows.

The sound of his zipper filled the space, causing you to look over your shoulder and see Miguel immediately taking off his pants and boxers. His hands pull at your underwear, revealing your core, waiting for him and him only. The sound of the bed settling down increased the anticipation, feeling him bring you close to his chest before his hand fondles your breast ever so gently. "Take a deep breath-"

"Just put it in, Miguel."

Your demands come true as you feel the same familiar stretch at your core, earning a low moan from the both of you. "There we go." He groans, grinding his bulbous tip against your cervix.

"Harder, Miguel." You plead to him, feeling the soft grinding and his length rubbing against your puffy clit. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He whispers, keeping the soft motions.

"You won't hurt me or the baby. I promise.” You sigh and only push your rear to his hip. “I can handle it.”

That sentence is enough for Miguel to cave in and come to his desires. “Oh my god…” You sigh, pushing down onto his length. The slow strokes savored your gummy walls as if you were the main dish at a fine cuisine. “Look at you, so pretty.”

The slow strokes slowly became harsh and rapid. Gushing and slapping filled the space as you felt your nails claw at the bedsheets. “You like that, huh?” He breaths out before he lets go of your breasts and holds onto your hip instead. The single twitch on his cock sends you into a chokehold, leaving you clawing for more.

“Yes, keep doing that.”

A small smirk forms on Miguel’s lips before he keeps the same tempo before he slows down. “Oh, this?” He picks up the pace, similar to before, but with heavy thrusts.

“Yes, that,” You breathe, crashing your hips against his.

“Only for you, cariño.”

The rapid thrusts are enough to sway the bed from side to side, allowing the bed to creak with every motion. Soft pants from your lips escaped before you took Miguel’s hand. “Are you doing well, cariño?” You drunkenly nod before raising your leg and feeling his hand grasp onto your knee, allowing easier access and movement.

“I’m close, Migs.” You buried your face onto a decorative pillow, muffling the moan that slowly evolved into a soft cry of pleasure.

“Together, cariño. Together.” He groans, keeping the same delicious friction. The sensation of his length against your puffy clit creates mouth-watering friction, enough for you to move in sync with his motions.

“It's so good…!” You babble over and over again, tears of ecstasy rolling down your cheeks. “We’re there, almost there.” He groans out before the two of you collapse onto each other. “Oh my god…” You whined out as Miguel’s rapid breath fans your skin. “You okay, mamás?” He gives you a forehead kiss before he slowly pulls out and only nuzzles close to your neck.

“I feel better than ever.”

[fear-is-truth]

Hello! Can u make nam-gyu baby trapping💜💜

◟contents. — unprotected p in v ⋆ manipulation ⋆ baby trapping ⋆ drabble + character study ⋆ MDNI 18+ ◟note. — this is just diabolical… i love it

it’s not an accident that he came inside you. not really. but nam-gyu plays it off like one.

he fucks you so good and deep, slow at first, then rough, hands gripping your hips. pushing you flat against the mattress, pressing into you until there’s nowhere left to go (not that there’s anywhere else you want to be)

“f-fuck, you feel so good,”

he groans, pushing in deep, grinding his hips against yours. his voice is wrecked, and it only makes you cling to him harder, letting out a choked moan when he buries his face in your neck. his thrusts turn sloppy, erratic, and something in the back of your mind prickles with warning, but before you can say anything, his grip locks around your waist.

“fuck, baby, i—” it’s barely a warning before he shoves himself in to the hilt, grinding deep, staying there. warmth floods your core, and your mind snaps out of the haze of pleasure.

“w-wait, you—” you gasp, trying to push at his shoulders, to wiggle away, but he just presses in closer, a satisfied hum vibrating in his chest.

“should’ve told me sooner,” lips dragging languidly along the curve of your jaw, voice dipping into a syrupy tone. “look at that,” he purrs, tilting his head in mock wonder. “so messy, baby.” two fingers dip between your legs, pressing against the mess he’s made inside you, pushing it deeper.

you shudder. nam-gyu chuckles.

he doesn’t give you a chance to argue. instead, he rolls you onto your back, dragging his fingers through the slick heat between your thighs, bringing them to his lips. his tongue flicks out, tasting, and he hums, grinning down at you.

“i’ll be more careful next time.”

────౨ৎ────

your hands are shaking.

two lines. clear as day.

you feel sick.

the bathroom door creaks open behind you, and you don’t need to turn to know who it is.

“what’s wrong?” nam-gyu’s voice is groggy, thick with sleep. you swallow hard, still staring at the test on the counter. your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, throat too tight to speak.

he steps closer, and when he follows your gaze, everything in him goes still.

silence.

then— “oh.”

your stomach twists as you finally look up at him. his eyes flicker between you and the test, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, he exhales a breathy laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“well,” he says, a lopsided grin gracing his lips. “guess we’re really doing this, huh?” his hands land on your waist. “hey,” he murmurs, tilting his head.

“you okay?”

you blink up at him, searching for something—regret, guilt, anything—but there’s nothing there. just that easy, casual smile, his thumbs stroking slow circles against your hips.

“we?” your voice comes out hoarse.

“yeah, we.”

he leans in, brushing his lips against your forehead.

“you think i’d just leave you to deal with this alone?” he murmurs, his voice gentle. like the thought itself is ridiculous. he pulls back to meet your eyes again.

“everything’s gonna be fine.”

it’s not that nam-gyu doesn’t care about your feelings. it’s that he cares about keeping you more.

love has never felt secure to him. it’s always been something fragile, conditional—something that can be revoked at any time, without warning. and you… you are the closest thing to permanence he’s ever had. the idea of waking up one day and realising you don’t love him anymore, that you’ve had enough of him, that you’re leaving—he can’t stomach it.

having a child out of wedlock carries social stigma, so if you were to get pregnant, the pressure to stay together and marry would be immense. and that’s what makes the idea so appealing to him.

so he lies. tells you he’s wearing protection when he isn’t. convinces himself it’s not really deception, just a guarantee. or maybe he “forgets” to pull out, murmuring a hoarse apology against your sweat-damp skin, pressing soft kisses along your jaw as if that’ll make up for it. “you just feel too good,” he mumbles thickly, as if that’s reason enough.

if he didn’t care about your feelings, he wouldn’t bother with the reassurances, but caring too much—caring selfishly—means he convinces himself this is what’s best. that this will make you stay. that if you’re tied to him in a way that’s permanent, unbreakable, then maybe he’ll never have to know what it’s like to lose you.

and if you panic, if you start to put the pieces together, he stays calm—too calm, in fact, as if he doesn’t see what the big deal is. wasn’t this bound to happen eventually?

“why are you freaking out? it’s not like i’m some asshole who’s gonna run off.”

“you act like i don’t want this, too.”

it’s not desperation, not exactly. it’s self-preservation, the only way he knows how to make sure you stay. because a baby means permanence. it means responsibility, pressure, expectations—all things that would make leaving harder. and sure, maybe that’s fucked-up and selfish.

but love makes people do crazy things. and nam-gyu? he’s crazy about you.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 1

Summary: When your very curious robot boyfriend finds all of your old sex toys. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Smut but that goes without saying for this fic p.s. I put out a mini drabble as well right before this in case you didn't catch it hehe p.p.s I have another temperature play drabble request so keep an eye out for that one in the future 🤭 Requested by an anon 💜

"What are these?" Jungkook asks when he walks into the living room where I'm sat down watching Hidden Love for the fifth time, holding up my little black box that I had hidden away and had completely forgotten about.

"NOTHING!" I say hurriedly, scrambling to get off the couch and tripping over the blanket I was using in the process. I regain my footing, run up to him and reach for the box but he holds it over my head, completely out of my reach.

"Are you cheating on me?" he teases, the objects in the box being ones I used before I got him. "You seriously think I would use those anymore? Now give it here!" I jump but once my fingers just barely touch it he grabs onto my hips to keep me from trying again.

I glare, waiting for him to give them back and when all I'm given is a stupid smug smile I resort to threats. "Give that to me or I will turn you off and make you charge on the floor instead of in bed with me" his eyes widen, not expecting that and deciding to do as I say, handing me the box of various sex toys that could never truly satisfy me.

"Why do you have so many?" he asks, picking up one very elaborate and confusing looking one that I snatch out of his hand immediately and put back in the box, shoving it in the back of my closet.

"Because none of them did everything I wanted them to" I sigh and close the door in hopes to help change the subject. When I try to walk past him though he stops me by wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me back to stand in front of him.

"I don't know why I asked since I know how needy my baby is" he says, his voice dropping a bit while he places kisses on my neck, knowing that'll help take the edge off.

"Why do you always have to go through my t-things?" I stutter, my resolve of trying to stay upset with him faltering. "Because I wanna know everything about you baby, and that includes all of your dirty little secrets" he says directly into my ear before sucking on the sensitive skin right below.

I shudder at the thought of letting him in that much and I know I will eventually but his want to figure out as many ways as he can to please me on his own is way too fun to experience, no matter how embarrassing it might seem.

"You like that huh? The thought of me knowing everything about you, all your deepest darkest desires that you haven't even dared to say out loud. My baby likes to hide that away huh? Too afraid to even tell me what she wants sometimes. That's pretty selfish don't you think?" he says, his grip on my waist tightening when he pulls me closer, his sensors picking up on my arousal and in turn hardening his length for me to use as I see fit.

"Why don't you let me use some of those on you tonight hm? Or better yet, let me watch you use them to get yourself off. I bet you'd look adorable, so frustrated and begging for release but never quite getting exactly what you wanted" he says but I shake my head.

"Too cold, want you" his presence tonight being one that drove me into submission so easily. I can't help but become putty in his hands sometimes. He was made for me and knows exactly what I like so why not give into what his programing is telling him to do to me.

"Aw, too cold for you? Needed me to warm you up?" he says, his condescending way of talking to me one of the easiest ways to tip me into that submissive headspace, only with him though. With him things are different. With him I know I'm safe.

I nod my head and my lip juts out the slightest bit leaving him running his thumb along it before I decide to open my mouth and run my tongue across it. His robotic pupils dilate as if they were human and the next second I'm on my back on my bed, him hovering over me with that sexy smug look on his face.

"Does my pretty baby want something?" he asks, caressing my cheek with a featherlight touch, and I blink up at him, still reeling from his sudden actions. He hums as a way to get my attention on him again, wanting me to answer his question.

"Want you" I say, hoping he'll accept my simple answer but I know he won't settle for that. "You've gotta be a little more specific love" he teases making me huff. "Oh come on, be a good girl for me and tell me what you want hm?" he mumbles and peppers kisses all along my neck and collarbone, having worn just a tank top and shorts today.

His hands heat up and run along my skin, warming me up just like he said he would but suddenly his hands turn ice cold, making me push him away but as always he doesn't budge at all.

"What the matter love?" he taunts, his hands quickly going back to a normal temperature. "Don't do that" I scowl, not liking the sudden change. "Lemme play around a bit yeah? Wanna try something" he says, clearly ignoring my scolding.

I squint my eyes at him when he looks down at me, a stupidly tempting look on his face. "Just trust me" he says, leaning down to mumble it against my lips, just barely kissing me before pulling back and looking at me again for confirmation.

After thinking for a couple more seconds I nod my head and he tongues his cheek, a habit that he picked up from who knows where but something that's become so sexy to me and he knows it.

He helps me strip out of my clothes and lets out a groan in approval, running his fingers through my folds.

"Baby is so wet for me already and I've barely done anything. How adorable. Been waiting all day for me to touch you huh?" he says, watching as my mouth falls open when he applies pressure on my clit just how I like it, tracing circles around it and alternating with just barely dipping a finger into my entrance, never giving me what I really want, playing with me just like he said he would.

When his fingers start to touch me with more precision, one finger pumping inside of me while his thumb circles my clit I feel that same chill run though my body and I realize his hands have gone cold inside me making me yelp and back away from him but he growls and uses his other hand to grip my hip pinning me down on the bed to keep me from moving.

"Stay still for me love, promise it'll feel good" he says and I decide to trust him. He knows what my body wants and what it can handle, the signs to look out for to know what's going on in my head.

"So good for me" he says, kissing me and starting to pump his fingers in and out of me again, adding a second one right away but switching the temperature back to a warmer one to help with the stretch.

Once he starts to feel that I've gotten used to the intrusion he changes the temperature just cold enough so I can feel it, my back arching as the only way I can move about since he's still got my hips pinned against the mattress.

"Shh I know I know. You can take it though, it's just a little cold love" he coaches, his cold fingers dragging along my warm walls making me wince. "This is w-why I stopped using them, t-too cold" I admit although I already had before, hoping that in some way that would make him stop but he doesn't.

"You know I'll take care of you though" he says, the temperature of his fingers changing back to normal now, giving me a bit of a breather but soon he's pulling them out of me making me wince for another reason.

"Where are you going?" I whine but he only laughs and gets off the bed to take off his clothes before crawling back on top of me. "My baby is so impatient, aren't you?" he chuckles, settling between my legs and dragging his tip along my folds, his brows furrowed in concentration while collecting my slick and rubbing it all over his cock.

"Just put it in already, please" I basically cry out, the temperature play leaving me incredible sensitive and he knows it, not letting up with this sick form of torture. He places his tip against my entrance, not pushing in and just teasing my hole and when I open my mouth to protest he shoves himself into me, knocking the wind out of me, his response a hum, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions.

"Couldn't even wait for me to fuck you like I wanted to, needed my cock in you so bad that you couldn't even shut up and wait. Thought you wanted to be good for me tonight" he grunts, slamming into me at a relentless pace, his robotic strength being unparalleled in bed. I sob, the intensity and the need to catch my breath overwhelming me in the best way possible but when he chances the temperature of his dick I'm screaming for him to change it back.

"Stop running" he growls, grabbing my hips and sitting back on his heels so he can fuck me onto him, pushing and pulling my hips so fast making my breasts bounce up and down. "Fuck play with your tits. Wanna ruin you but my baby can lend me a hand or two can't she?" he says, talking down to me like I'm fucking stupid when I clearly am, cock drunk and barely able to see straight.

I slowly bring my hands up my torso, ghosting my fingers along my breasts, "S-shit" he stutters, his programing really playing the part and making me moan at his reaction. "Play with your nipples baby, get them nice and hard for me" he says, his hands dragging my hips back and forth making his length disappear inside of me over and over, never ceasing making my cock drunk mind go blurry, my reaction speed severely diminished.

He decides to give me a breather, stopping his movements and putting his fingers in my mouth, my lips closing around them right away. "Make a mess baby" he say, encouraging me to get them as wet as possible, my tongue swirling around them, a pool of saliva now gathered and making a complete mess, exactly how he wanted.

He takes them out of my mouth and my brows furrow, not wanting to stop since the approving gaze he gave me while I did it being something I didn't want to give up just yet. He chuckles and rubs his fingers together, making sure his thumb, pointer and middle finger are covered before using them to play with my nipple making me whine at the harsh pressure.

"Shh it's okay, I got you" he coaches, the cold temperature making my nipples harden painfully, goosebumps now present all over my body. 

"My baby gets so cold so easily. Want me to warm you up again?" he taunts and I nod my head, the rate of his thrusts though making it difficult to decipher but he knows and so he switches to a warmer temperature making me sigh in delight. It quickly goes from too cold to way too warm making me moan in delight, the scorching temperature being painfully pleasurable.

"Don't worry baby, it's not gonna leave a mark, I wouldn't hurt my pretty girl. Unless she wanted me to" he says, the offer enticing enough to make me think twice but I shake my head 'no' and he takes it.

"Baby doesn't wanna be branded? That's okay, I'll take good care of you" he coos and that he does.

Over and over and over. 

Drabble Masterlist

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[abd-illustrates]

YOU!! I DONT KNOW IF PEOPLE SEND ASKS ABOUT HEARTLESS ANYMORE BUT I RECENTLY RESURFACED BACK TO IT AND I JUST *EXPLOSION SOUNDS* /pos

BRO I cannot express to you how much I think about Doppel and Glass and their character concepts and their dynamic and just generally the story. Man, I don't know what it is about those two, but like...AJHSJHD!!

I really like thinking about angst and ways that you can make both of them complex and stuff, you know, separating from just "haha silly comic relief guys!" I like thinking about them and how their not the same, and how they're both technically separate beings kinda? And how they're different and stuff and AA-

ALSO I love they're character design man? Like, it looks...crunchy. that's probably a bad way to put it, but they feel like those sensory videos where people take wax and slime and crush it all up and its really satisfying and crunchy.

AUGH they're all so awesome and I love love LOVE thinking about Heartless as a story and how it would play out and stuff. Keep up the good work and stuff, sorry for word bombing you I just suddenly got a lot of feelings and had to get it out somewhere

sgssgfjsgh thank u so much for taking the time to send this ask dude!

Seeing any love for the Heartless gang always sparks more joy than I can convey, no matter when -- but ur timing is uncanny haha, these two have been on my mind a lot lately too! (Especially since the new Madds Buckley song dropped 'cause it's just sO--- 👀😩🤌)

I'm not very articulate rn but pls take this doodle as a big thank u for the encouragement and for sharing ur thoughts about 'em! 🪞💜

[theballadofharkness]

Agatha Harkness VS Salem: The Kittening. Now it’s Purr-sonal

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agatha Harkness X fem!reader

Summary: When you brings home a stray kitten Agatha can’t say no to those big pleading eyes and pouting lips. What she doesn’t know is that she has met her new mortal enemy, transforming her house in a battleground in which she is fighting for your attention.

Word Count: 9.3K

Warnings: very mild smut warning so as always MDNI xo

A/N: Part 2 is finally done! UPDATE: Part 3 is coming soon. Also if you’d like some drabbles or little oneshots in this universe, I’d be down 💜🪻

The warm glow of candlelight danced across the bedroom walls, casting soft golden hues over the deep violet fabric of the sheets. The scent of lavender and rose lingered in the air- Agatha always insisted on lighting a few enchanted candles before a special occasion, their aroma designed to calm the nerves and set the perfect mood. You stood by the vanity, smoothing your hands down the silk robe Agatha had insisted you wear while getting ready. It was loose, slipping down one shoulder as you considered the dresses laid out across the bed- each one more elegant than the last. You’d been trying to decide for nearly ten minutes, but the weight of Agatha’s gaze made thinking a little difficult. She was perched on the edge of the bed, a glass of dark red wine in hand, watching you with that knowing smirk. Her legs were crossed, her free hand drumming idly against her knee, but her eyes… oh, her eyes were doing something else entirely.

“You do realize, my love,” she drawled, tilting her head slightly, “that we’ll be celebrating our third anniversary at this rate.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes even as a smile tugged at your lips. “It’s your fault. You keep looking at me like that, and I forget what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Agatha chuckled, setting down her glass and rising gracefully from the bed. In an instant, she was behind you, her hands slipping around your waist, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Looking at you how, exactly?” she murmured, voice thick like honey.

A delicious shiver ran down your spine. “Like you’re planning on devouring me.” You breathed

She hummed, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over the silk of your robe. “Maybe I am,” she teased, pressing a lingering kiss just below your ear. “But first, let’s get you dressed.”

You barely had time to form a response before she stepped around you, reaching for the dresses on the bed. She ran her fingers over each one, thoughtful, before finally selecting a deep, elegant number-the kind that clung in all the right places, smooth and rich as velvet. Holding it up, she turned to you, a wicked gleam in her eye.

“This one,” she purred. “I want to see you in this one.”

Your breath hitched. It was bold, refined-something that made you feel as powerful as you did beautiful. Agatha knew exactly what she was doing, of course. She always did.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “You just like seeing me flustered.”

Agatha smirked, stepping forward until there was no space left between you. Her fingers found the silk tie of your robe, toying with it lazily as she tilted her head, eyes dark with amusement. “Mmm. That,” she whispered, voice like velvet, “is an added bonus.”

She leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, one that left you breathless and clutching at the front of her dress before she pulled away, her expression unbearably smug.

“Well?” she prompted, still twirling the fabric of your robe between her fingers.

Heat rose to your cheeks, but you huffed a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Fine, fine. I’ll wear it.”

Agatha grinned, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before stepping back, hands on her hips. “Good girl.”

The way your stomach flipped at those words was entirely unfair.

You turned quickly, hoping she wouldn’t catch the way your face was now practically glowing, but of course, she saw everything. A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled from her chest as you made your way toward the changing screen, her gaze burning into your back.

As you disappeared behind it, you heard her sip her wine before purring, “Take your time, sweetheart. I’ll just be right here, picturing the final result.”

You groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you married me,” she quipped.

And you wouldn’t change that for anything.

The moment you stepped out from behind the changing screen, Agatha’s eyes darkened, her gaze raking over you like slow-burning fire.

“Oh, darling,” she purred, setting her wine glass aside as she strode toward you. Her fingers traced the fabric along your waist, her grip firm as she tugged you flush against her. “This was an excellent choice.”

You barely had time to breathe before her lips captured yours, warm and insistent, her hands slipping to your lower back, pulling you in until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you. She kissed you like she had all the time in the world-slow, teasing, with just enough pressure to leave your head spinning.

Your hands found her shoulders, then her jaw, tilting her face to deepen the kiss. Agatha let out a pleased hum against your lips, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as she backed you toward the bed.

You gasped as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and Agatha took full advantage of the sound, nipping at your lower lip before pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, her breath hot against your skin.

Then-

“Hey, I’m here!” Billy’s voice rang out from downstairs, echoing through the house like a poorly timed curse.

You barely had a second to react before Agatha pulled away with an exaggerated groan, pressing her forehead to your shoulder as if she could physically will the interruption out of existence.

“You have got to be joking,” she muttered, her fingers tightening on your waist.

You bit your lip, torn between laughter and sympathy. “Billy was supposed to come by to watch Salem, remember?”

Agatha exhaled dramatically, lifting her head just enough to give you a look. “Yes, I remember. I just didn’t think he’d be so punctual about it.”

“Agatha,” you chided softly, running your fingers through her hair. “He has a key, and he’s here all the time. It’s not like he broke in.”

Agatha huffed, straightening up with all the reluctance of a cat being forced out of a sunspot. “We are celebrating our wedded bliss, and we’re being interrupted by a babysitter for a cat.”

You chuckled, smoothing your hands over the front of her dress. “He’s only a baby,” you reminded her gently. “He’s not independent like Señor Scratchy.”

Agatha pulled back, narrowing her eyes. “Señor Scratchy is an esteemed companion. A sophisticated creature of the dark arts.” She gestured vaguely toward the door. “That thing? A menace.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’s just a tiny kitten.”

“A tiny menace,” she corrected. “Who ruins my fun.” She gestured dramatically toward the door, where Billy’s voice was still carrying from downstairs. “Case in point.”

You pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “Come on, my love. Let’s go say hi before he thinks we forgot he was coming.”

Agatha exhaled through her nose, still clearly put out by the interruption. But as you took her hand and gave it a squeeze, she sighed in defeat, lacing her fingers with yours.

“Fine,” she relented. “But if that tiny menace scratches my good chair again, I will turn him into a teacup.”

You squeezed her hand again, grinning. “You love him, really.”

Agatha muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like not a chance, but the way she was already guiding you toward the stairs suggested otherwise. Agatha still looked mildly put out as she led you down the stairs, her grip firm around your waist.

Billy, of course, was already making himself at home. He was standing in the living room, holding a tiny, squirming Salem against his chest, his face lit up with excitement. “Awh, look at this little guy! He’s so small.”

Salem let out a tiny, unimpressed meow, wriggling in Billy’s hold before promptly climbing up onto his shoulder like a parrot.

“Whoa. Wow. Y/N, you look beautiful!” Billy smiled when he was able to properly focus his attention on the pair of you.

Before you could so much as say thank you, Agatha’s arm tightened around your waist, tugging you firmly against her side. She leveled Billy with a frown, one eyebrow arching in clear disapproval.

Billy stared at her. Then at you. Then back at her. Finally, with a deadpan expression, he sighed. “Agatha. I’m gay.”

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh as Agatha’s frown deepened slightly, though she didn’t loosen her grip. Billy just rolled his eyes, adjusting Salem on his shoulder. “And you look pretty too, I guess.”

Agatha scoffed, finally letting you go to cross her arms over her chest. “Took you long enough.”

Billy just smirked, plucking Salem off his shoulder and cradling him in his arms. “So, what’s the plan? Where’s the food for the little prince?”

You smiled, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge. Their food is all prepped and labeled, and their next feed is at seven. Their treats are in the cupboard- just don’t let Salem have too many at once.” You explained. “If anything goes wrong, call me,” you finished.

Billy opened his mouth to respond, but Agatha was already shaking her head as she levelled him with a look so pointed it could have been a hex.“Don’t you dare, Kaplan.”

Billy blinked. Then grinned. “Oh, you know I’m calling her now.”

Agatha groaned, rubbing her temples as you laughed, squeezing her hand. “Billy, don’t tease her.”

Billy just winked. “No promises.” He barely had time to say another word before Agatha was tugging you toward the door, her fingers laced tightly with yours. “Alright, Kaplan, don’t burn the house down,” she called over her shoulder.

Billy snorted. “No promises.”

You shot him an apologetic smile as Agatha practically dragged you outside, her impatience palpable. The moment the front door shut behind you, she exhaled like she’d just escaped some great ordeal. “Finally.”

You giggled as the taxi pulled up, its headlights casting a warm glow against the quiet street. “You act like we were held hostage.”

“I was,” Agatha muttered, opening the door for you before ushering you inside. The moment you slid into the seat, she was right behind you, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary. “By him and that tiny menace.”

The taxi driver barely had a chance to confirm the address before Agatha was on you- her hands smoothing over your thighs, her lips pressing against your neck, her voice a pleased hum against your skin.

“Mmm,” she purred, tilting your chin toward her as the car pulled away from the curb. “Alone at last.”

You laughed softly, though your breath hitched as her fingers traced the hem of your dress. “We’re in a taxi.”

Agatha smirked, completely unbothered, her eyes dark with amusement as she studied your face. “And? Do you really think that’s going to stop me from doting on my perfect, pretty wife?”

Your face warmed instantly. “Agatha,” you whispered, glancing toward the driver.

She just chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before murmuring against your skin, “What? You’re mine. And you look divine tonight.”

Her lips brushed against your jaw, slow and deliberate, and you had to fight the urge to melt into her right there.

You swallowed, biting back a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you married me,” she quipped, her hands settling on your waist.

~

Your heart fluttered as the taxi continued into the glowing center of Westview, the lights of the city reflecting against the windows. The night had only just begun, and if Agatha was going to make sure you felt completely adored every second of it.

The taxi rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant, its golden glow spilling out onto the cobblestone street. The restaurant was elegant but cozy, with warm lighting flickering through the windows and the soft hum of music drifting through the air.

The moment the car door opened, Agatha was there, offering her hand like some old-world gentleman. “Come, my love,” she murmured, helping you out as if you were royalty.

You couldn’t help but smile as she tucked you into her side, her arm settling possessively around your waist. She pressed a quick kiss to your temple before leading you inside, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against your hip. The moment you stepped through the door, something felt… different. The restaurant was busy, but no one so much as glanced in your direction. In fact, it was as if the entire front room didn’t see you at all.

You glanced up at Agatha, arching a brow. “Did you-?”

“Shhh, darling,” she purred, squeezing your waist. “Just enjoy.”

Before you could press her further, the maître d’-a well-dressed man with a strangely dreamy expression-greeted you both with a bow. “Right this way, Mrs. Harkness,” he said smoothly, already leading you toward the back.

As you entered the back of the restaurant, your breath caught. It was perfect. The lighting was softer here, a warm golden hue casting everything in a romantic glow. The tables that had once been scattered around the space were now gone, leaving only one: a beautifully set table for two, complete with candles and an arrangement of your favorite flowers. The band-previously playing some elegant, generic jazz-began to shift into something softer, something familiar. Your wedding song.

You turned to Agatha, your heart swelling. “Oh Agatha…”

She was already watching you, eyes filled with adoration. “Happy anniversary, my love,” she murmured, brushing a stray curl behind your ear. “Only the best for my beautiful wife.”

Your throat tightened with emotion as she guided you to the table, pulling out your chair like a true gentlewoman. You shook your head, overwhelmed. “You are so extra.”

Agatha just smirked, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as she sat across from you. “Of course I am,” she teased. “You deserve nothing less.”

The candlelight flickered gently between you, casting Agatha’s sharp features in a golden glow. The soft murmur of the band playing in the background blended seamlessly with the low hum of other diners-though, thanks to Agatha’s little enchantment, it still felt like it was just the two of you in your own private world.

And Agatha?

Agatha was adoring tonight.

She reached across the table, delicately cutting a piece of her dish before lifting it to your lips. “Try this, my love,” she murmured, eyes twinkling with affection.

You blushed but leaned forward, letting her feed you a bite. The rich, savory flavors melted on your tongue, and you hummed in approval. “Mmm. That’s amazing.”

Agatha smirked, clearly pleased with herself. “Told you. I do have exquisite taste.”

You rolled your eyes. “In food, or in wives?”

She tilted her head, feigning deep thought. “Oh, both. But my wife? She’s by far my greatest indulgence.”

Your face burned. “Agatha…”

She chuckled, setting down her fork and simply looking at you, taking you in as if you were the only thing that mattered. “I still remember the first time I saw you,” she mused, swirling her wine. “This radiant little green witch walking into my coven, full of life and magic. You were captivating.”

Your heart swelled. “You mean when I tripped over a candle and almost set the altar cloth on fire?”

Agatha laughed. “Yes, exactly that moment. I took one look at you and thought, mine.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to contain your grin. “You are so dramatic.”

“And you love it.”

She wasn’t wrong.

As the main course arrived, Agatha kept the conversation light and playful, telling you old stories from her centuries of mischief, making you gasp at some of the antics she’d pulled over the years.

“Wait, wait, so you were the reason that Duke guy mysteriously ‘disappeared’ in the 1700’s?” you asked, wide-eyed.

Agatha grinned. “Mm-hmm. Turns out, if you start calling yourself a ‘witch-finder general’, you might just wake up in the middle of the ocean.”

You laughed. “You drowned him?!”

“Oh, no, no. Just dropped him there. He probably swam to shore.” She shrugged. “Or not.”

You shook your head, giggling, but the way she watched you-soft, devoted-made you feel warm all over.

And then, just as you were reaching for your wine-

Your phone rang.

Both of you froze.

Agatha’s head turned slowly toward the source of the interruption, her expression darkening instantly. “No.”

You sighed, glancing at the screen. Billy.

Agatha groaned. “I swear to Hecate, if he is calling to tell us that kitten has done something ‘super adorable’-”

You gave her a look before answering. “Billy? What’s-”

“Y/N, okay, please don’t freak out,” Billy said quickly, “but-uh-Salem, um. Salem threw up. And now he looks really sad and sick and I think he’s scared-”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh, no,” you breathed, already reaching for your bag.

Agatha sighed, rubbing her temples. “For the love of-”

“He’s so little and I don’t know if this is, like, normal baby kitten stuff or if I need to take him to a vet and I swear I didn’t do anything-” he continued his panic fuelled rant.

You don’t even let him finish. “We’re coming home.”

Agatha was seething. The moment you hung up, she slammed her wine glass down with a force that made the candles flicker. “Unbelievable. Absolutely un-fucking-believable.”

You barely heard her- you were already grabbing your bag, heart racing with worry. “We need to go now-”

Agatha shot up from her seat, chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Oh, do we?” she snapped, eyes flashing. “Do we really need to abandon our perfectly romantic, expensive, private anniversary dinner because of that menace?”

You turned to her, wide-eyed. “Agatha, he’s sick-”

“Oh, is he?” she huffed, throwing a few bills onto the table with far too much force. “Or is this just another one of his tiny, kitten-sized schemes to steal more of your attention?”

You groaned, practically dragging her toward the exit. “For Hecate’s sake, Agatha, he’s a baby, not an evil mastermind.”

Agatha scoffed. “Says you.”

~

She was walking fast, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she flagged down a taxi with a single, aggressive flick of her wrist. You could feel her magic practically vibrating with frustration, wrapping around you in possessive waves. You climbed into the cab, bouncing your knee anxiously as Agatha slammed the door behind you.

The driver barely had time to ask before Agatha barked, “Home. Now.”

The car lurched forward. Your mind was racing with worst-case scenarios. What if he’s really sick? What if he needs a vet? What if he’s scared and crying and-

You barely noticed Agatha sitting rigidly beside you, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight it could crack.

She exhaled sharply. “This was supposed to be our night.”

You sighed, squeezing her knee. “I know, love.”

Her frown deepened, but she didn’t pull away. “First, he takes up all your free time,” she grumbled. “Then he steals your affection. And now? Now he’s ruining our anniversary dinner.”

You bit your lip. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

She let out a long-suffering sigh, finally glancing at you. Her expression softened just a little. “Of course not, sweetheart,” she murmured. “It’s that infernal creature I have a problem with.”

You leaned your head against her shoulder, heart still hammering. “I just need to make sure he’s okay.”

Agatha’s fingers twitched in her lap before, begrudgingly, she rested a hand on your thigh. “I know, darling.”

You knew she wasn’t done grumbling. You knew she would absolutely have more to say about this later. But for now, she let you cling to her, let you worry. And even though she was positively furious at the tiny, four-legged interloper that had stolen so much of your time, she still pressed a kiss to your temple and muttered, “Let’s just get this over with.”

~

The second the taxi pulled up to your house, you barely waited for it to stop before throwing the door open and bolting inside.

“Salem?!” you called, panic still gripping your chest as you rushed through the doorway.

Billy was already there, eyes wide with pure distress. “Y/N, I swear he was acting so off, he threw up, and then he was just sitting there all sad and-”

Before he could finish, a tiny mew sounded from the living room. You turned just in time to see Salem-small, fluffy, and very much alive-perking up and trotting over to you like nothing had happened. His little tail flicked as he reached your feet, looking up at you expectantly with big, innocent eyes.

You blinked. “…Oh,” you breathed, already scooping him up. “Baby, you’re okay…”

From behind you, Agatha let out a slow, lethal exhale.

Billy took one look at her face and immediately backed up. “Okay, I know how this looks, but I promise-”

“Oh, do you?” Agatha hissed, stepping forward with a sharp glare. “Because to me, it looks like my entire anniversary was just hijacked because of that devious little wretch.”

Salem let out a tiny chirp in your arms, rubbing his face against your chin.

Agatha’s scowl deepened.

Billy held up his hands, frantic. “No, no, he was sick! He was all slow and miserable and just staring at me, and I panicked! I didn’t lie- he was acting weird, I swear!”

You bit back a smile, running a soothing hand down Billy’s arm. “It’s okay, Billy,” you reassured softly. “Sometimes, animals eat something that doesn’t agree with them, and they feel off for a bit. It doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

Billy still looked hesitant. “…So you’re not mad?”

“Of course not.” You smiled.

Agatha, however, let out a short, bitter laugh. “Well, I’m mad.”

Billy winced. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Agatha crossed her arms, looking at Salem like he was her mortal enemy. “That fiend just ruined our entire night, and now he’s prancing around like he’s innocent-”

Salem purred, curling up in your arms.

Agatha’s eye twitched.

Billy took another cautious step back.

You sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Salem’s head before glancing up at Agatha. “Love, I know you’re mad-”

“Oh, do you?” Agatha cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You wrapped your arms around her. “-but we can still salvage the night.”

Agatha scoffed. “Oh, how? Shall we share a romantic candlelit meal over a pile of cat vomit?”

Billy made a choked noise.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing Salem’s ears. “He’s just a baby, Agatha.”

“He’s a menace,” she corrected.

Billy cleared his throat. “Sooo… does this mean I’m fired as a cat-sitter?”

Agatha snapped her gaze to him. “Oh, without question.”

~

It was still early when you woke up, the morning light spilling lazily through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the bed. You barely had time to stretch before warm hands slid over your hips, pulling you back against a familiar, curvy body.

“Mm, morning, darling,” Agatha purred, voice still thick with sleep as she nuzzled into your neck.

You hummed, melting instantly as she pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

Her fingers traced along your thigh, teasing, feather-light. “We never did get to properly celebrate our anniversary, did we?”

Your breath hitched. “No, we-ah-never got the chance.”

Agatha smirked against your shoulder, her lips traveling lower. “Mm. Such a tragedy.”

She rolled you onto your back, slotting herself between your legs with ease. The weight of her, the heat of her- it was intoxicating. Her lips were slow and lazy against yours, like she had all the time in the world to savor you, to tease you, to drive you insane.

“Agatha,” you gasped, already dizzy, already needy.

She chuckled darkly. “What is it, my love? What do you need?”

“You,” you breathed, arching into her touch.

Her pupils darkened. “Oh, sweetheart.” She trailed a hand down your body, ready to make you hers-

And then-

“AH!” Agatha jerked back with a yelp, her hand flying to her leg.

You blinked in confusion until you saw Salem, sitting smugly at the edge of the bed, tail flicking.

Agatha gaped at him in outrage. “Did you just bite me?!”

Salem simply stared. Unbothered. Unapologetic.

Agatha turned her arm, revealing a tiny red mark. She gasped dramatically. “He did that on purpose! Attempted murder!”

You? You lost it.

Laughter bubbled out of you, loud and uncontrollable. You clutched your stomach, barely able to breathe as Agatha sat there, stunned and betrayed.

“This isn’t funny, Y/N!” she squawked. “I was attacked in my own bed!”

You wiped tears from your eyes, still gasping between giggles. “Agatha, he’s a kitten-”

“A kitten with a vendetta!”

Salem chirped and trotted over, climbing right into your arms like nothing had happened.

Agatha glared. “Oh, of course. Of course you run to her.”

You bit your lip, stroking Salem’s fur. “I think someone’s just hungry.”

She huffed. “Oh, well, pardon me for not getting up at the crack of dawn to serve his majesty his breakfast-”

Salem meowed expectantly.

Agatha scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

~

The day had started fine. Agatha had the house to herself-well, herself and Billy, who was currently seated in the living room, focusing on a levitation spell she’d been drilling into him for the past hour. You were off shopping with Lilia, which meant she had no distractions, no interruptions-

Or so she thought.

Because then, of course, there was Salem. Salem, who had spent the morning tearing through the house like a demon. Salem, who had already knocked over a full cup of tea, shredded the edge of one of her books, and was now currently attempting to climb the curtains with his tiny, traitorous claws.

Agatha’s eye twitched.

“That’s it,” she snapped, storming over. She plucked Salem off the curtain before he could bring the entire thing down and marched toward the kitchen. “You- are going in here.”

Salem let out an indignant mew as she placed him gently on the floor and shut the kitchen door.

Billy gawked. “Did you just lock up the cat?”

“Yes,” Agatha deadpanned, storming back into the living room.

Billy gave her a scandalized look. “Oh, come on, he’s a baby.”

“He’s a tyrant,” Agatha corrected, flopping onto the couch with a huff. “I cannot handle that little devil for another second.”

Billy snorted. “Y/N’s gonna kill you.”

Agatha waved a dismissive hand. ���Oh, please. She won’t even know.”

And then-

CRASH.

Agatha bolted upright.

Billy froze. “Uh… that didn’t sound good.”

Agatha was already moving, storming into the kitchen, ready to see what destruction that damned cat had caused-

But then she stopped. The kitchen window was open. The little potted plant on the sill had been knocked over, soil spilled everywhere. And Salem? Gone.

Agatha’s stomach dropped.

Billy peered over her shoulder. “Ohhh, shit.”

Agatha’s breath caught. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no-” She rushed forward, peering out the window. Sure enough, there, in the middle of the garden, was Salem. He was sniffing around, completely unbothered, his little tail flicking in the breeze.

Agatha panicked. She hated that cat, but that cat was your baby. And if anything happened to him? If he got lost, if he got hurt-

Oh gods.

She’d never hear the end of it.

Billy? He was already backing away. “Sooo, do I need to go wait outside so I don’t get hit by any flying objects when Y/N gets home?”

Agatha snapped her head to him, wild-eyed. “Shut up and help me catch that cat!”

Billy immediately scrambled after her as she raced outside, her heart pounding as Salem, the little criminal, simply sat in the grass-completely oblivious to the absolute chaos he had just unleashed.

The second Agatha stepped into the garden, Salem locked eyes with her. And in that moment, she swore he knew. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to be out here. He knew that if she didn’t catch him before you got home, her life wouldn’t be worth living. And so, the little bastard did what he did best.

He ran.

“Oh, for the love of-” Agatha lunged, but Salem was fast, scampering across the yard like a tiny, fluffy demon.

Billy doubled over laughing. “Oh my god-”

Agatha whipped her head toward him. “Teen, get your ass over here and HELP ME!”

Billy snorted, but he jogged forward, attempting to corner Salem between the flower beds. “Okay, okay, here, kitty-”

Salem shot between his legs like a bullet.

Billy yelped, nearly face-planting into the grass.

Agatha groaned. “Are you kidding me?!”

Billy spun around, pointing dramatically. “Oh, he’s evil.”

Agatha already knew that.

They spent the next ten minutes chasing him across the yard-diving, reaching, failing as he danced out of their grasp every. single. time.

Agatha, panting, glared. “That’s it. I’m using magic.”

Billy’s eyes widened. “You can’t!”

“Why the hell not?!”

“Because Y/N will know!” Billy pointed wildly toward the house. “You really think she won’t sense if you throw a binding spell on her precious baby?”

Agatha froze.

Shit.

He was right.

You would absolutely sense it if she hexed Salem into submission. And if you got home and realized she had not only lost him but had also used magic on him?

Oh, she was so dead.

Agatha groaned, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. No magic. But we need to get him now-”

And then… the gate creaked. Her blood ran cold. Slowly, she turned. The garden gate was open. Salem was right next to it. And then he bolted.

“SALEM, NO-” Agatha leapt, just missing him as he squeezed through the gap and took off toward the street.

Billy screamed. “AGATHA HE’S ESCAPING-”

Agatha ripped open the gate and ran-barefoot, chasing a fugitive kitten down the street like some kind of madwoman.

Billy raced after her, wheezing. “I’m-gonna-die-”

“NOT BEFORE WE CATCH THAT DAMN CAT!”

Up ahead, Salem scampered toward a tree, tail flicking as he reached the trunk. Agatha saw one chance. She launched herself forward and finally, FINALLY- she caught him. Panting, drenched in sweat, she curled her arms around his tiny, wriggling body, holding him up like some sort of cursed prize.

“Gotcha,” she wheezed.

Billy collapsed onto the grass. “Ohhh, thank god.”

Salem? He just blinked at her. Like he hadn’t just led them on the most stressful chase of her entire existence.

Agatha glared. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

Salem purred.

Agatha hated him.

Billy, still gasping for air, rolled over and checked his phone. His face blanched.“Oh, shit.”

Agatha tensed. “What?”

Billy turned the screen toward her. A text from you.

< The Other Mrs. Harkness: Just leaving the shops! Be home soon! Love you! xx >

Agatha screeched. “WE HAVE TO GET BACK NOW.” She sprinted up the porch steps, Salem squirming in her arms as she kicked the door open. Billy stumbled in behind her, wheezing.

“We-made it-” Billy gasped, nearly collapsing.

Agatha barely heard him. She was too busy staring at the disaster in her arms. Salem was filthy. His tiny paws were caked in mud, his belly streaked with dirt, and his once-fluffy tail was now a twig-covered disaster.

Agatha groaned in horror. “Oh, hell no.”

Billy finally looked up-and snorted. “Shit, look at him-”

“Teenager, if you laugh, I swear to all that is Holy-”

But it was too late. Billy was howling, doubling over as Agatha stood there, a furious, disheveled witch, holding a mud-covered kitten at arm’s length.

“I hate him,” Agatha declared. “I hate this damn cat.”

Salem just blinked at her.

Billy wiped his eyes, still giggling. “Okay, okay-so what now?”

Agatha sighed, already dreading the answer. “We have to wash him.”

Billy froze.

Then, he took a step back. “Ohhhh, no. I like having my skin intact.”

Agatha glared. “So do I, but here we are!”

Billy grimaced, but one look at Salem’s absolute state and he knew they had no choice.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But you’re holding him.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Like I trust you not to drop him?”

Billy grumbled under his breath, but followed as Agatha marched to the bathroom, Salem still calmly chilling in her grip. That wouldn’t last. They filled the sink with warm water, and Agatha braced herself before gently lowering Salem in…

Chaos.

The second his paws touched the water, Salem exploded into a frenzy of wriggling, splashing, and absolute betrayal.

Agatha hissed as tiny claws latched onto her arm. Billy yelped, dodging a wave of soapy water as Salem twisted like a feral eel.

“He’s fighting for his LIFE!” Billy screeched.

“SO AM I!”

Salem shrieked, flailing as Agatha tried to scrub the mud from his fur. “Hold still, you little-”

Billy was no help, standing at a safe distance, barely containing his cackles.

“Billy, DO SOMETHING!”

Billy, still wheezing, reluctantly grabbed a tiny washcloth and dabbed at Salem’s ears. Salem responded by kicking him in the hand. He snorted. “Oh, he hates us.”

Agatha gritted her teeth. “I hated him first.”

By the time they finally rinsed the little demon off and wrapped him in a fluffy towel, Agatha was soaked, scratched, and one minor inconvenience away from summoning a hellstorm. Salem? He just snuggled into the towel and purred.

Billy grinned. “Awww. Now he’s all clean and cute again.”

Agatha glared. “Get it away from me.”

Billy giggled, scooping up the bundle of fluff. “C’mon, don’t be mad at him.”

Agatha whirled on him. “If Y/N asks, you played with Salem indoors all day, and he definitely didn’t escape, roll in mud, and nearly give me a damn stroke.”

Billy saluted. “Mum’s the word.”

The moment you stepped through the door, you beamed, setting your bags down and immediately making your way to Agatha. “Hello, my love,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing yourself against her, breathing her in. You pulled back slightly, your brows furrowing.

“Um… Agatha,” you frowned, taking a step back. “Why are you all sweaty?”

Billy exploded. He doubled over, absolutely howling with laughter, clutching his stomach like he’d been physically struck.

Agatha scowled at him. “Shut it, Billy.”

You blinked at her in confusion. “No, seriously, what were you doing?”

Billy wheezed, barely able to breathe. “Oh my god, this is the best day of my life-”

Agatha shot him a murderous glare before turning back to you, attempting to compose herself. “I was-” she paused, eyes flicking to the still-damp Salem in Billy’s arms. “-exercising.”

Billy shrieked with laughter.

You squinted. “…You hate exercise.”

Agatha huffed. “Well, maybe I decided to start a new routine, ever think of that?”

Billy collapsed onto the couch, breathless. “Agatha, please stop, I can’t breathe-”

Your eyes flicked between them. “…Okay, what is going on?”

Billy snorted again, but Agatha grabbed your wrist, steering you toward the kitchen before you could investigate further.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “You must be starving, let’s get you a snack-”

Billy cackled behind you. “Yeah, gotta refuel after all that exercise.”

~

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the bedroom. You lay still, curled beneath the covers, your chest tight with a weight you couldn’t explain. Nothing had happened. No nightmare, no bad memory, no reason to feel this way.

And yet… you did.

Anxiety sat heavy in your ribs, buzzing under your skin like static. It was familiar, these waves of unease that came and went with no real trigger. You knew it would pass eventually-it always did-but right now, it clung to you like damp air, thick and suffocating. You barely noticed the way Agatha stirred beside you until you felt her shift, propping herself up on one elbow.

“Morning, my love,” she murmured, voice warm with sleep as she pressed a lazy kiss to your temple.

You managed a soft hum in response, but you didn’t turn to her, still staring blankly at the ceiling.

That was all it took for Agatha to pause.

Her hand, which had begun to trace slow circles along your arm, stilled. She frowned slightly, eyes scanning your face, her sharp mind already picking apart your quietness. “…What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice gentle now.

“Nothing,” you whispered, but it wasn’t convincing.

Agatha was silent for a beat. Then, she nudged at your shoulder until you finally rolled to face her. Her gaze softened as she took in your features- the way your brows were faintly drawn together, the distant look in your eyes, the tension you carried in your jaw. She knew that look. That wasn’t exhaustion. It wasn’t sadness. It was that deep, uneasy feeling that crept into you sometimes, the one you couldn’t shake.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, her touch impossibly gentle. “Is it one of those mornings, my love?”

You swallowed, nodding hesitantly. Agatha exhaled, her hand shifting to cradle your face. Her thumb brushed against your cheek, grounding, steady. “Okay,” she murmured simply. “Then we’ll take it slow today.”

No teasing. No urging you to snap out of it. Just quiet understanding. Because she knew that sometimes there wasn’t a reason. Sometimes you just felt off, and all she could do was be there, steady and unwavering, until the tide passed. She pressed a kiss to your forehead and then to the tip of your nose, her lips lingering just long enough to remind you that she’s here.

“Stay right here,” she whispered before slipping out of bed.

You blinked after her. “Where are you going?”

“Making tea,” she said simply. “Then getting the furballs. You need both of your emotional support creatures right now.”

A breath of laughter escaped you, the first one of the morning. She’d get you through this. She always did. Agatha returned a few moments later, a steaming cup of tea in one hand and Señor Scratchy nestled in the other. The rabbit gave a lazy twitch of his nose, entirely unbothered as Agatha carefully set him down beside you.

“There,” she murmured, smoothing back your hair with one hand. “Your oldest emotional support animal, delivered.”

You offered a tiny smile, fingers brushing over Señor Scratchy’s soft fur as he settled in beside you.

Agatha left the room to search for your other little beast, but… no sign of him. No scratching at the furniture. No tiny, smug little face peeking around the corner, waiting to pounce on her the moment she got too comfortable.

After a while of searching, she came back to the bedroom, ready to slide back into bed beside you, ready to pull you close again. But the moment she looked over at you she froze. Because there, already curled up against you, was Salem. Tiny, soft, and warm, his small body was tucked neatly against your side. His head rested just over your ribs, ears twitching slightly as he let out the faintest of purrs. Your fingers idly stroked through his fur, comforted by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

She’d been ready to roll her eyes, ready to shoot some snarky remark about how the little devil was always hogging your attention. But now, watching the way Salem stayed glued to you, offering his own quiet brand of affection- she… couldn’t. Because for once she and the cat were on the same side. Both of them watching over you, making sure you were okay.

Agatha’s lips twitched, just slightly. She reached out, fingertips brushing over your cheek before moving down to run along Salem’s back.

The kitten let out a soft chirp at the contact. Agatha rolled her eyes, but it was fond. “Don’t get used to this, furball,” she muttered, but she didn’t move him.

Instead, she lay back down beside you, arm draped securely around both you and the menace. You sighed softly, melting into the warmth of them both.

And for now that was enough.

~

The coven meeting was already off to a tense start.

Agatha sat at the head of the circle, arms crossed, looking bored as Jen droned on about some new-age magical theory she’d been obsessing over. But-inevitably-the conversation had spiraled into something else. Something snarky.

“So,” Jen mused, idly swirling the wine in her glass, “remind me again how we’re the ones who should be listening to you, Agatha? Last I checked, your leadership skills tend to leave entire covens dead.”

The room froze.

Alice sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Lilia shot Jen a warning look. Billy looked between everyone like he was waiting for a fight to break out. Your stomach tightened.

Agatha, however, barely reacted. She simply leaned back in her chair, a slow, knowing smirk curling over her lips. “Hmm.” She took a sip of her drink, tilting her head. “Well, if you ever want to test my abilities firsthand, I’d be happy to give you a little… demonstration.”

Jen scoffed but said nothing. The tension in the room sizzled. And then suddenly- a sound. A small, delicate trickle of liquid hitting the floor.

Jen frowned. “What the-?” And then she screamed. “OH, MY GODS!”

Every head snapped toward her. She had jumped up from her seat, face twisting in absolute horror- because there, in the very spot she’d been sitting, was Salem. Tiny. Innocent. Tail flicking ever so slightly. And Jen’s dress? Soaked.

Everyone stared.

There was a beat of absolute, stunned silence.

And then Agatha howled with laughter. It was delightful, full-bodied, wicked glee. She clutched her stomach, her head thrown back as pure joy erupted from her like a spell. “Oh-oh, this is brilliant,” she wheezed, swiping at a stray tear. “I-I didn’t even teach him that!”

You pressed your lips together, trying desperately not to laugh yourself. Billy had already lost it. He was howling, nearly tipping over in his chair.

Jen, however, was furious. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” she shrieked, glaring down at the little gremlin who had just ruined her expensive silk dress.

Salem simply blinked up at her. Then, as if to rub it in, he let out a tiny, smug little mew.

Agatha wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Oh, that’s it. You, my little menace, might actually earn your keep around here.”

You gasped, mocking shock. “Agatha Harkness, are you saying you finally like him?”

Agatha snorted. “I said no such thing.” She smirked, reaching down to scratch behind Salem’s ears. “But I do appreciate a well-timed bit of vengeance.”

Salem purred.

Jen groaned. “I hate this coven.”

Lilia smirked. “Don’t lie.”

And as the conversation carried on, Agatha-without even thinking-scooped Salem into her lap, idly stroking his fur.

You bit your lip.

She was so softening up to him. It only took him peeing on poor Jen.

~

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, the gentle hum of a movie playing in the background. You were curled up against Agatha, her arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers tracing idle circles against your hip. It was peaceful, warm and perfect. Or at least, it would have been. If not for the relentless meowing from the floor.

You sighed, glancing down to find Salem sitting near the couch, tail flicking, big eyes staring directly at Agatha as he let out another tiny, insistent mew.

Agatha groaned, tilting her head back against the couch dramatically. “Oh, for Hecate’s sake. What do you want now, you tiny beast?”

Salem meowed again.

You giggled. “I think he wants to play.”

Agatha scoffed. “Play? I am not a child, nor am I his personal entertainer.”

You bit your lip, reaching into the side table drawer and pulling out a small, sleek object. “A shame,” you mused, clicking the button and casting a bright red dot onto the floor. “Because I specifically got this for you.”

Your wife eyed the laser pointer with an arched brow.

You grinned. “Come on. Just try it.”

She rolled her eyes but took it from your hand anyway, holding it between her fingers like it was something far beneath her. Then, with a sigh, she flicked the laser across the floor.

Instantly, Salem pounced.

You stifled a giggle as he skittered after the tiny red dot, tail puffed up, eyes wild with determination. Agatha moved it again, this time sending it up the wall, and Salem launched himself upward, scrambling as if he truly believed he could catch it.

You snorted. “Oh baby boy-”

Agatha blinked. And then, to your utter shock, she laughed. A real, genuine, breathless laugh. Not a smirk. Not a scoff. But laughter. “Oh, you absolute fool,” she chuckled, watching as Salem did an entire somersault trying to catch the dot.

You grinned, eyes sparkling as you watched her-really watched her. Her sharp edges were completely softened, her lips curled in pure amusement, her usually cunning eyes filled with something warm. Something fond. And that was when you knew she was gone. Agatha Harkness, powerful, ancient, no-nonsense witch, had been defeated by a kitten.

“You like him,” you teased, leaning into her side.

Agatha sniffed, flicking the laser one last time before shutting it off. “I tolerate him.”

You just smiled. “Mmmhmm.”

She pointed a warning finger at you. “Don’t push it, darling.” But as she tucked the pointer into the table drawer, her free hand absentmindedly reached down- fingertips brushing over Salem’s head in the lightest, quickest little pet like she thought you wouldn’t notice.

You bit your lip to keep from squealing. She liked him.

~

The air in the room was thick with anticipation as you stepped out of the bathroom, draped in the most sinfully delicate lingerie you had ever worn. You knew Agatha would lose all sense of composure the second she laid eyes on you- her wicked little smirk curling, her hands greedy, her voice slipping into that low, hungry rasp that always made you weak in the knees.

You were ready for her.

You sauntered forward, hips swaying, voice a sultry purr. “Agatha…”

No response.

Your smirk twitched. “Aggie?” you tried again, a little firmer.

Still-nothing.

Your brows furrowed. And then you saw her. Sprawled on her stomach on the bed, head propped up on one hand, while the other absentmindedly twirled a ribbon in front of Salem.

You gawked.

Your wife-the woman who, at any given moment, was seconds away from devouring you whole-was completely, entirely ignoring you.

Because she was playing with the cat.

“Agatha!”

Agatha hummed absently, still not looking at you. “One sec, darling. He’s about to-oh, good boy! Get it, little menace, get it-”

A stunned silence filled the air.

Your wife, the woman who once enchanted a maître d’ into giving her a better table just so she could stare at you under candlelight, was not even looking at you.

You, in this.

You clenched your fists. “Agatha.”

“Mm?” She twirled the ribbon again. “I think he’s figured out he can-ooh, yes, baby, pounce!”

Oh.

Oh.

You let out a horrified gasp. “Oh my god.”

At last, her head snapped up, her amused expression melting into mild confusion. “What?”

The moment her gaze landed on you, standing in your little lace ensemble, looking every bit the goddess you were meant to be-her lips parted, appreciation flashing in her eyes. “Oh,” she breathed, shifting slightly. “You look-”

But it was too late.

You threw your hands in the air. “Are you serious?!”

Agatha blinked. “What?”

“What? What?!” You gestured wildly between yourself and Salem, who was now gnawing on the ribbon. “I have been in there for thirty minutes getting all dressed up to seduce you and you didn’t even notice me come out because you were too busy playing with the cat?”

Agatha opened her mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. “…Okay, but-”

Your glare darkened, daring her to finish that sentence. She wisely did not.

Instead, she exhaled heavily, sitting up. “Baby, you do look absolutely ravishing, and I will make it up to you in ways that will-”

You huffed, already turning on your heel. “Nope! You can play with him tonight, because you’re clearly not playing with me.”

Agatha’s eyes widened. “Wait- baby-”

You stormed to the closet, snatching your silk robe and yanking it over your shoulders.

Agatha scrambled off the bed in a panic. “Darling, wait let’s not be hasty-”

But you were already out the door.

Her head turned to the tiny mew that sounded from the bed. Agatha slowly turned her head. Salem, now stretched lazily across the sheets, let out a self-satisfied purr. She glared at him. “You did that on purpose.”

Agatha growled under her breath, then bolted after you, her heartbeat pounding as she practically skidded into the hallway.

She had some serious groveling to do.

“Baby wait listen, my love please-”

You ignored her, storming toward the kitchen with all the regal ferocity of a woman scorned, silk robe billowing behind you. You snatched a bottle of wine from the counter, popping the cork with a little huff. “Hope you and Salem have a wonderful night together,” you muttered as you poured yourself a glass, the irony of this situation not lost on you.

“Oh, come on, love-”

You took a slow sip, not even looking at her. “Don’t you have a ribbon to twirl?”

Agatha winced. She deserved that. Desperate, she softened her voice. “My perfect, stunning, goddess of a wife,” she pleaded, looking up at you with her most pathetic expression, hands resting desperately on your thighs. “My heart, my soul, my reason for breathing-”

You scoffed, turning away. A sharp gasp left your lips as she spun you around, crowding you back against the kitchen counter, her hands bracketing either side of you.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” she murmured, voice low, dangerous.

Your lips parted, but Agatha was already there- pressing forward, her mouth ghosting over your cheek, then your jaw, the scent of her dark perfume flooding your senses.

“You’re angry with me,” she mused, her lips brushing against your ear, making you shudder. “Rightfully so.”

You swallowed. “Damn right I am.” You tugged at a lock of her hair. “You ignored me.”

She whimpered dramatically. “I loathe myself for it.”

You huffed, finally glancing up at her. “You should.”

She hummed. Amused. And then, lightning fast, she gripped your waist, hoisting you up onto the counter, stepping between your legs before you could even blink. Heat pooled in your stomach.

“Tell me, Angel…” She traced a fingertip along your inner thigh, barely ghosting over your skin. “What kind of apology do you require?”

You opened your mouth, but Agatha tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at her. Her dark eyes were molten, hungry, the power thrumming beneath her skin almost overwhelming. You ached for her. And she loved it.

Your fingers twitched in the silk of your robe. “I should make you suffer for this.”

Agatha grinned. “Oh, sweetheart…” She leaned in, her breath hot against your lips. “By all means-try.”

And then she kissed you; hard, deep, claiming you with every ounce of dominance and desperation in her being. You melted. Your fingers clawed into her shirt, dragging her closer, but she tut-tutted, pulling back just enough to tease.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she murmured, lips brushing yours. “Not so fast.”

You whined. “Agatha-”

She smirked. “What’s wrong, my love?” Her hands tightened on your waist, keeping you firmly in place. “You were so eager to walk away just a minute ago.”

Your breath hitched. Damn her and her smug, sinful mouth. “Are you going to make it up to me, or just tease?”

Agatha growled. And then she bit your lip. You gasped, and she devoured the sound, her kiss turning filthy-all tongue and teeth and raw, desperate possession. Your head spun. She pulled back, her thumb tracing the damp swell of your lips.

“Let’s get one thing straight, darling,” she murmured, eyes blazing. “I own you.”

You whimpered.

Her smirk was wicked. “That’s what I should’ve been paying attention to.” She squeezed your hips, dragging you flush against her. “My wife, my perfect, beautiful, insatiable wife-”

She kissed your throat, smirking against your skin when your pulse stuttered. “You want my attention?” she murmured, biting down.

You moaned.

She grinned. “Oh, sweetheart,” she purred. “You have it.”

And then she took you.

~

The coven was rowdy tonight.

Lilia was yelling at Alice about something to do with the rules, Jen was already two drinks in, and you were curled up in Agatha’s lap because, apparently, sitting in your own chair was unacceptable when you had a perfectly good wife to perch on. Not that she was complaining.

But the chaos truly began when Salem decided that game pieces were his mortal enemies. It started with a single, mischievous paw batting at a game piece. Then another. Then total chaos. Lilia yelped when Salem launched himself across the board, sending dice and cards flying.

“Oh, for God’s sake-Salem, you little goblin!” she huffed, scooping the kitten up before he could pounce again. “You menace! I swear-”

“Excuse me.” Agatha’s voice was sharp.

Lilia froze. The entire room went silent. All eyes snapped to Agatha, who was now glaring at Lilia like she’d personally offended her.

“Show some respect to my cat.”

Silence.

Utter, shocked, jaw-dropping silence.

“Holy shit,” Jen breathed, eyes wide.

Alice, meanwhile, looked far too smug. With an almost ceremonial flourish, she held out her hand, palm up. Jen groaned, digging into her pocket before slapping a crisp twenty-dollar bill into Alice’s palm.

“I told you she’d come around,” Alice said, grinning.

“You gambled on this?” Agatha huffed, unimpressed.

Alice grinned. “We knew it was only a matter of time.”

Lilia, still holding Salem, just stared at Agatha in disbelief. “You hate this cat.”

Agatha huffed, reaching over to pluck Salem from Lilia’s arms and pull him into her lap. “I tolerate him.”

Salem immediately curled up, purring against Agatha’s chest. Your heart melted.

“She loves him,” Billy gasped.

“I do not-”

“You so do!”

Agatha groaned, running a hand down her face. But she didn’t push Salem off. She even gave him a little scratch behind the ears. And that was all the proof they needed that your wife had officially been defeated and your precious little kitten had won.

~

The second the coven left, you pounced. Agatha barely had time to react before you tackled her onto the couch, straddling her waist and capturing her lips in a long, deep kiss. She hummed in approval, hands settling on your hips, gripping you firmly. But when you pulled back, you had a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Say it.”

Agatha blinked. “Say what, darling?”

You smirked. “Say you love him.”

Agatha groaned, letting her head fall back against the cushions. “Oh, for the love of-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” you interrupted, leaning down to kiss along her jaw. “No deflecting, Mrs. Harkness.”

She huffed, tilting her head to give you better access-because, despite her grumbling, she was still weak for your kisses. “I tolerate him.”

You giggled, trailing kisses down her neck. “Say it properly.”

“No.”

More kisses. More sly little touches. Agatha’s fingers tightened on your waist.

“You love him,” you purred against her skin. “I know you do.”

Agatha sighed-long and dramatic, as if she were suffering some great inconvenience. “Fine,” she muttered. “I love the damn cat.”

You squealed in victory, throwing your arms around her neck and kissing her again, all grinning lips and giddy little noises. And despite everything, Agatha laughed. A soft, warm, genuine laugh, as she held you tight against her.

She rolled you over, pinning you beneath her, her blue eyes glinting. “You’re impossible,” she murmured.

You just grinned. “And yet you love me.”

Agatha sighed dramatically. “Yes,” she admitted, brushing her nose against yours. “I really do.”

Bonus Agatha and Salem:

[saiyanprincessswanie]

You’re the One

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 770

Summary: Bucky finally tells a recruit off nicely and reminds you that you’re the one for him.

Warnings: Fluff, telling a recruit off, a little jealousy, and a happy ending.

A/N: Cranky, Grumpy, Stabby! Oh, My! Challenge @yenzys-lucky-charm Prompt: “It’s always been you… you know that.”  & Missy’s Writing Challenge Prompt: “You made me believe in love.”

A/N 2: Thank Beta Readers @late-to-the-party-81 & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog, also thank you @late-to-the-party-81 for my header.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

You’ve been dating Bucky Barnes for a year now and everything seemed to be going well until recently. Lately, you’ve been having some jealousy issues when you’ve seen him helping one of the new recruits, Brittany. It wasn’t that she’s taller than you with blonde hair and green eyes, but more that she’s been playing dumb to get his attention. Every time Bucky corrects her stance by putting his hands on her hips, she lets out this awful giggle that makes you want to scratch your eyes out. 

You’ve tried to keep your composure, but it’s become a constant five days a week of having to watch your boyfriend go through this routine with her. You also knew that it was starting to get to Bucky as well from the conversations he’d had with you. He’d told you how uncomfortable he was having to be hands-on with her when he knew she could do the training by herself.

However, as much as it annoyed you, you continued with your training Monday through Friday without saying a word to her, despite how difficult it was getting not to cuss her out or tell her to keep her hands to herself. Thankfully, one day you even got to spar with her, which was satisfying in itself. Not only did you manage a take-down on her, she also ended up whining, which made your day. You didn’t even care that you got scolded for being too rough. Then the weekend came and you could finally spend some alone time with him. You both were getting ready for a ride on Bucky’s motorcycle when the bimbo herself showed up unannounced. 

“Hi Bucky, what are you up to? Going for a ride?” Brittany stood far too close to him and didn’t even acknowledge you.

“Uh, hey there. Just getting ready to head out with my girlfriend for the day. So we need to be going.” Bucky refused to look at her as he continued to do checks on his bike.

She looked over at you, giving you a dirty look. “Oh, right, her. Well, maybe when you get back, you can go over this past week's moves with me. I think I need a little more practice.” 

You stared her down for a moment and were about to tell her to fuck off when Bucky interupted knowing full well what you were going to say.

“Look, Brittany, it's the weekend and I’m going to spend it with my best girl. If you need extra help I highly suggest talking to Steve. Either he can help or give you a trainer to work with. But what you’re doing is highly disrespectful to both me and my girlfriend. I know you’ve been trying to get my attention for weeks now, even though you know I’m in a relationship. It’s totally inappropriate and unprofessional, and I’m going to leave it at that.”

Brittany just stared at him and then looked at you. You could see her tricks weren’t going to work on Bucky anymore. She looked devastated and all you could do was laugh on the inside. “I don’t understand,” she stammered. “I was just asking for help from my supervisor, like I’m supposed to.”

“You were not looking or asking for help,” you bit out. “You’ve been trying to get into my boyfriend's pants for weeks now. So be a good little recruit and get the fuck away from him before I show you that take down move again.”

Brittany stood there momentarily, with her mouth open in shock from what you said, then tears welled in her eyes as she ran out of the garage.

Bucky looked back at you, surprised that you hadn’t actually put your hands on her, before he pulled you close and kissed your forehead. “It’s always been you… you know that. There’s no other woman that I want or need except for you. You're the reason why I took a chance at dating again. You made me believe in love. Even when I didn’t want to think I was capable of it. You’re my everything. You’re the one, sweetheart. I love you.”

Tears started to shimmer in your eyes. “You’re my everything as well, Bucky. You’re the one I think of every day and night. The one I want to be with all the time. You’re the best thing that keeps happening to me. I love you.”

After hugging and softly kissing one another, Bucky climbed onto the bike followed by you. He revved the engine a few times and you both took off away from the compound heading to who knows where.

Taglist:

@americasass81

@awesomerextyphoon

@awkwardgiraffe726

@b3autyfuld1sast3r

@caplanbuckybarnes

@denisemarieangelina

@fictional-affairs

@get0verit

@joannie95

@jobean12-blog

@jtargaryen18

@jvanilly

@kmc1989

@labella420

@lfnr-blog-blog-blog

@madscape

@mcira

@mdemontespan1667

@missvelvetsstuff

@mrsmischief209

@mycrazyasslikestoread

@nekoannie-chan

@noellez-best-life23

@notyourtypicalrose

@obsessedwithcevans

@patzammit

@princessofdarkwinter

@rayofdawnworld

@sarahowritesostucky

@spectre-posts

@stellar-solar-flare

@steviebbboi

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@wolfsmom1

@yenzys-lucky-charm

@casa-boiardi

@avengersfan25

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Heyyyy, omg can I ask for nsfw headcanons for haitani brothers, hanma, baji, kawata brother and shion with a reader who has a extremely high libido 😼

TokRev x High Libido!Reader

♡ NSFW, fem reader, pet names, roughness + fluff, praise + degradation, Hanma lowkey being a jackass ♡

Characters: Ran, Rin, Hanma, Baji, Nahoya, Souya, Shion

note: Just some short headcanons, thank you anon 🩷

note 2: Writing smut while I'm on my period is so therapeutic for some reason

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Ran

💜 Doesn't mind your high libido because he has one too

💜 Mutual masturbation + phone sex

💜 Teases you when you're needy

💜 Lazy morning sex 🔛🔝

💜 He lets you ride him as soon as he wakes up

"My pretty baby~ so needy for me early in the morning ♡"

Rindou

🩵 Soft boi hours fr

🩵 Eats you out before he fucks you

🩵 Fucks you like he loves you because he does

🩵 Praises you nonstop and loves listening to you whimper and moan for more

🩵 Doesn't stop til you tell him to even if he's tired, he lives to please you

"It's okay princess, imma make you cum okay?"

Hanma

🏵️ Teases you about your high sex drive and laughs when you get upset

🏵️ Doesn't let you touch yourself because you're his to touch

🏵️ Lets you sit in his lap and grind yourself on him

🏵️ Degrades you while you beg for him to fuck you

"Aww my little slut wants me to fuck her? You're gonna have to beg me better than that baby ♡"

Baji

🪷 Bites you during sex to mark you as his, you always wake up the next day looking like you were the main dish at a vampire buffet

🪷 Loves when you leave nail marks down his back (he'd proudly show them off to Chifuyu too 💀)

🪷 Laughs at you when you beg for him to fuck you because he was going to even if you didn't beg

🪷 Eats you out til you're overstimulated

"What's wrong cutie? You begged me for it and now you're a whiny little mess~"

Nahoya

🌟 Thigh riding + ass slapping (he'd probably slap your pussy too if you let him)

🌟 Grips your thighs hard enough to leave marks

🌟 Likes when you pull on his hair, takes it as a sign to be rougher

🌟 Curses the whole time you two fuck

"Fuck baby, pussy gripping me fucking so good. I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning ~"

Souya

💠 Doesn't mind your high sex drive, but his is definitely lower

💠 Moans louder than you when you fuck, you're just so tight and warm

💠 Loves when you ride him, especially when he gets home from working at the ramen shop, it's a great stress reliever

💠 He'll let you keep riding him even if he's tired and overstimulated, he just wants you to feel good

"You look so beautiful on top of me babygirl, keep going til you're satisfied~"

Shion

🖤 He may be a violent delinquent, but he's a major softie for you

🖤 Obsessed with your high sex drive and always makes time to fuck you

🖤 Prefers to fuck in private, but will do it in public if you beg him enough

🖤 He whimpers when you suck him off

🖤 Has to go slow when he fucks you so he doesn't cum too fast, but you always end up fucking yourself onto his cock faster

"Shit! Slow down please, I ain't tryna cum just yet pretty girl~"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Tagging @arlerts-angel and @i-literally-cant-with-this

[revelboo]

Could I beg for a little more Lifeless Ordinary? Pretty please? 🙏🙏🙏

Spin got his turn but what about the rest? I hope that Misfire is last to get some, it would serve him right for being such a little shit.

💜As always, thank you so much for everything you do! Take care of yourself!💜

Sure! 🔞 🌶️

Lifeless Ordinary Pt 24

Scavengers x Reader

• Yawning lazily as you bundle deeper into the blanket Krok had produced from subspace, you smile remembering his attempt to explain how it worked in terms that made it clear he didn’t really know himself. But he was endearingly awkward trying to bullshit his way through it anyway. Turning, you study him as he pours over a datapad looking for jobs or opportunities. And his red optics narrow slightly before he looks at you like he could feel your stare on him. “I’m not much entertainment, am I?” He asks.

• Considering the rest of them are probably still brawling for no apparent reason, his calm probably is more than welcome right now, but he knows he’s not the fun one. “I like the quiet,” you say with a shrug and he clears his vents in amusement. “I love the others, but sometimes this ship reminds me of a frat party,” you add, nose wrinkling and he has no idea what a frat party is, but he nods anyway like he does. “You give serious dad vibes, though. Like you’re everyone’s dad. It’s sweet.”

• “Dad vibes?” He repeats and your face reddens as you weakly shrug. Will he take it as an insult if you call him the responsible one? You’re pretty sure most guys would, equating responsible with boring, but with the chaos of the other four? A little stability is really nice. Optics taking in your flustered smile before dropping back to his work, you relax. “You can call me that if you like, then,” he mutters and you go even redder. You’re absolutely not calling him daddy even if he doesn’t know what it means. At least, you think he probably doesn’t. Do alien robots have daddies? “Why exactly did you agree with Misfire’s little proposal?”

• And your face gets even redder, unable to look him in the optic now. Embarrassed as you fidget with the end of your blanket. Maybe it’s as simple as curiosity. Or you’re just horny. Pretending to be engrossed in his datapad, he waits. “I like you guys,” you mutter, still refusing to look at him. It makes him wonder about your species, about humans and how little they know about you. Maybe social coupling is normal as a way to show affection? Maybe humans don’t form long term mate bonds? Or they just frag as a form of play? It’s not like Cybertronians don’t frag for fun or stress relief, too. Or maybe you go into heat and need to be fragged regularly to ease it? Maybe they’ve been neglecting your needs and you just didn’t want to ask? Swindle had said humans were fixated on fragging, so maybe there’s a reason.

• He’s not even flirting shamelessly like Misfire does, but somehow his questions have you much more flustered than Misfire ever gets you. And you know it’s weird to be interested, to want all of them, but they’re yours. That realization sinking into you as you wonder what exactly is wrong with you that you can’t be satisfied with just Spin, but want to claim them all as yours. “If you need to be fragged regularly for your health and wellbeing, you need only ask any of us. None of us want you to suffer in silence,” he says and you have no idea how to respond to that. Did he somehow get the impression that you need to be fucked to survive? Know you need to correct him, but just like with Misfire’s question about sharing, you can’t make yourself do the responsible thing.

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