#freader

[zumicho]

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♥︎ .ᐟ.ᐟ 06

© zumicho all rights reserved.

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author’s note: if u got the reference u earn a cookie

+++ ik the handwriting for yn’s is unusually messy pretend that’s bc she’s stressed !!! bc !!! u know !!! apology / confession essay to her crush !! yeah !!!

@wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @mimi3lover @itsdragonius @vivian-555 @blueberrygeniejam @cryptictheseus @azharyy @yuminako @iluvmang @aliensstolemyheart @ilyless @tojirin @mylahrins @gra-eae @reads-stuff-quietly @neeksnicoboytoy @elliott0o0 @nnnyxie @chizunata @girlkissersco @kiyoomis-side @scxrcherr @causenessus @eggyrocks @phoenix-eclipses @walllflowerrrsss @gsyche @acowboykisser @swag-only @serossidechick @le000xxgrd @eclecticeggknightpsychic @garfieldissocool @dazqa @venusianeros @youmake1mistake @thechaosoflonging @r0seandth0rns @empress-pug-pug @iad0ru

[cyborg-franky]

For @whitewineandpizzapuffs ! Thank you for the support and please enjoy <3<3

Ace x F!Reader SFW WC: 729

“I need to get away from this ship for a bit,” You said, putting hands on Ace’s shoulders as he leaned back on his chair, almost tipping over if not for you. “Yeah?”

You nodded and pushed him back to sitting, the chair making a thud on the floor before you wrapped your arms around him, resting your chin on his head and sighed. “I just need to get away from all the, ya know… men.” You huffed into his hair and heard him laugh at that. “Getting too much testosterone in the air, huh?” he teased playfully. 

“I can just go on my own,” you tried to pull your arms away, but Ace whined and grabbed you. “Aw, come on, don’t leave me.” You rolled your eyes at the whiny tone as he pawed at your arms. He acted like you were dating sometimes, not that you minded. You pushed those thoughts aside. You didn’t need to focus on your crush right now; you just needed a break from the ship.

–

Taking the striker to a small island, you gripped the picnic basket for dear life as the small fire-powered boat shot across the waves, skimming over the surface. The wind in your hair and against your face felt nice. Ace would get you both there safely; you were just still getting used to going from the stable footing on the Moby to being rocked around.

Ace helped to pry you from the striker's mast. Taking his hand, you let him help you off and onto the sand. You signed and took a breath as Ace grabbed the basket and headed to the shady area under the palm trees.

This island was smaller than it looked on the map, but that meant it was all yours, just the two of you. You watched Ace set out the picnic blanket before he kicked off his heavy boots, flopping down and letting out a pleased sound as he wiggled his toes. You tossed your backpack to the ground and joined him.

“This is nice; I already feel so much better,” you said as you rummaged in your bag for a sketchbook and pens. Ace’s face lit up when he saw the marker pens. You got comfy against him, reaching into the picnic basket, getting out a bottle of soda, popping it open, and taking a swig. 

You quirked an eyebrow when Ace arranged your leg across his lap, a blue pen in his hand. You watched him uncap the pen and start to colour in one of your many tattoos. Your arms and legs were covered in lots of black line work, and you’d never considered you’d make the perfect coloring book.

Watching Ace focus on your leg, gently colouring in one of your tattoos, how his nose scrunched and the tip of his tongue stuck out as he focused on his work. He finished with the blue and then switched to green. You laughed out, and he blinked up at you. “Sorry, it tickles,” you said with a giggle.

Ace couldn’t help himself, smiling at hearing the giggle as his heart fluttered. The sound of you happy was everything to him, even if it was just you being ticklish. “I didn’t mean to, for once,” he said as his smile turned into a cheeky smirk. “Sure, I believe you,” you poked your tongue out at him and started to sketch as he went back to coloring.

This was exactly what you needed: time away from the busy ship, a small tropical paradise, and spending time with your best friend. The sun started to set, and you’d curled against Ace as you watched the sky change above. 

“I think you made me look pretty, Ace.” You said, stretching out your arms and legs and looking at all the colours he’d added to your tattoos. “Nah, you're already pretty. I just added a little something.” Ace said giving you a wink.

Both of you suddenly felt warm, cheeks dusted with pink at his comment. “M-maybe I should get these coloured for real,” you mumbled, looking at your skin. “Yeah, you should,” he added, looking away.

“Wanna head back?” he asked, going to stand before you stopped him. “Just a little longer?” you asked, a gentle plead in your voice, and he nodded, getting comfy next to you. “Thank you, Ace.”

“Anytime,”

[casinocarpediem]

Me when they put "shy!reader" and they make reader an incomprehensible helpless baby instead of somebody who is actually shy

[bts-0t-7]

Mountain of Threads

Pair: Jungkook x dancer F Reader

Summary: You discover a powerful connection and love between you and Jeon Jungkook. Through shared moments of vulnerability and exploration, you embark on a journey that transcends boundaries - creating new stories and a forever-intertwined bond.

Genre: Fluff, Idolxreader

Chapter Warnings: None

WC: 662

The air crackled with anticipation as you stood on stage, the spotlight illuminating your every move. Like the water, your body movements flowed together as one. As the music swelled, you danced with passion, pouring your heart into art. And in the crowd, Jungkook watched, his gaze filled with awe and admiration. The wonder on his face - mouth gaping wide open, staring at your entrancing movements - not moving a single inch.

After the performance, you caught him in the back rooms - a shy smile tugging at the edge of his lips. He hesitantly approached you, speaking with sincerity. "You are a talented dancer, Y/N. That dance was really a masterpiece."

A blush crept up your neck as you ducked your head, replying, "Thank you, Jungkook. Coming from you, it really means a lot."

Jungkook's eyes sparked with a mixture of humility and determination. "The dedication you put into your craft is amazing. Amazing and obvious and really inspiring." His eyes grew bigger as he gasped. "I should go write songs now then!"

His infectious laughter spurred your own and you laughed along, enjoying the easy-going air between you two. At that moment, a connection formed - through shared dreams and the pursuit of excellence. It was a recognition of each other's passions, dreams, and hope - a deep understanding that they have the power to shape lives.

As days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, you found yourself spending more and more time with Junkook. Through shared practices and late-night conversations in the convenience store, you discovered a one-of-a-kind kindred spirit - one that relays the unspoken language of your hearts.

Together, both of you trekked up the mountain of growth and explorations, pushing each other to reach new heights. There were many moments of frustration and exhaustion - many questionable times on whether this connection is worth the fight - but they were always eclipsed by the unwavering support and encouragement you received from Jungkook.

Late one night, standing on the rooftops of his house, the both of your gazed at the stars. The both of you were silent for a long while, before Jungkook turned to you, eyes filled with determination and an underlying…fear. “Y/N, I’ve watched you become stronger and more confident every day. Your passion and drive have always inspired me to be a better version of myself.”

Warmth spread through your chest as you smiled at him. “And you, Jungkook. You have also pushed me further even when I think that I have reached my limit, allowing me to explore new boundaries and embrace challenges.” You turned back to look at the stars, continuing, “You truly have an incredible ability to light up a room with your presence.”

Jungkook’s cheeks tinted with a blush as he chuckled. “Thank you, Y/N. Your belief truly means a lot to me.”

At that moment, the world seemed to shrink, leaving just the both of you on the rooftop - a space where dreams collide and love blossoms. Jungkook’s hand reaches out, his fingers gentry intertwining with yours as if to solidify the connection between your souls.

With a bated breadth, you leaned in, lips finding Jungkook’s in a tender kiss. It was a moment that encapsulated all the unspoken emotions swirling between you. It was a dance of vulnerability and trust, a stepping stone toward a love that transcends all boundaries.

From then on, your strings intertwined as your journey continued, hand-in-hand. Through the ups and downs, the peals of laughter and the tears, you discovered a love both so powerful and tender - one that has defined even the most complex emotions in every situation; one that defied expectations and blossomed beyond the confinements of the stage.

In Jungkook’s embrace, you found a partner who would always push you to be the best version of yourself as you would for him. Together, the both of you soar beyond boundaries, embrace the unknown, and continuously create a story that your forever be etched in your hearts.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[iraot]

Warnings: M/M intimacy, tooth rotting fluff?, rough sex, knotting, abo dynamics, p in v sex, p in a sex, oral sex, throuple, power dynamics?, play, hair mentioned i think, Pairing: Alpha Zayne x Omega F!reader x Alpha Caleb A/N: this is the last OFFICIAL part of my ABO series, at least until the sixth LI comes out. I am taking drabble requests for any of the relationships so feel free to shoot me a DM and I'll get to it as soon as I can! :3 If you also just wanna yap hit me up too! I'm a chronic yapper. A03

𝟙𝟝 𝕐𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝔸𝔾𝕆 The summer sun was beginning its lazy descent, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet as the three of them raced through the field behind Linkon University’s faculty housing, where their families worked. The rampantly growing wildflowers swayed in the evening breeze, the scent of earth and grass filling the air as laughter rang out between them.

Caleb was the fastest, always the first to dart ahead, feet barely touching the ground as he bolted through the field. His dark brown hair was a wild mess, violet eyes bright with excitement as he whooped and called over his shoulder, “Come on, slowpokes! Last one to the tree has to carry the backpacks home!”

She groaned dramatically but pushed forward, her legs burning as she tried to keep up. She wasn’t as wild as Caleb, but she had her own brand of playful competitiveness. “Not fair! You took off before we even started counting!”

Zayne, as always, was more calculated in his approach. He didn’t immediately rush in after Caleb but instead gauged the distance, the lay of the ground, the way his two best friends moved. With a quiet, knowing smirk, he adjusted his pace, waiting for the right moment to surge ahead. “You should know by now that Caleb doesn’t play fair,” he murmured as he passed her, his black hair catching the last of the sunlight.

She huffed, trying not to grin. “And you’re still letting him get away with it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Just as Caleb was about to reach the massive oak tree that marked their usual finish line, Zayne suddenly veered to the right, cutting through the tall grass. Caleb was too caught up in his own momentum to notice until the last second—when Zayne stretched out a hand and tagged the tree first.

“What—? You cheated!” Caleb gaped, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Zayne simply leaned against the bark, arms crossed, utterly unbothered. “I played smart.”

She reached the tree a few seconds later, panting but laughing. “Guess that means Caleb’s carrying the backpacks.”

Caleb groaned, falling onto his back with an exaggerated sigh. “You two always gang up on me.”

“We wouldn’t have to if you weren’t always running off,” Zayne pointed out, nudging him with his foot.

She plopped down beside Caleb, staring up at the sky with a contented sigh. “One day, we’ll probably have to start acting our age. Be all proper and responsible.”

Caleb turned his head to look at her, grinning. “Not happening. I’ll make sure of it.”

Zayne shook his head, but there was fondness in his gaze as he sat beside them. “At the very least, I’ll make sure neither of you get into too much trouble.”

She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “So, what’s the verdict? Backpacks?”

Caleb groaned again but grabbed one of the bags with a dramatic flourish. “Fine. But only because I’m gracious in defeat.”

She and Zayne exchanged an amused glance before gathering the rest of their things, the three of them falling into an easy rhythm as they made their way home. Even then, before their designations, before their world became infinitely more complicated, they had been something unshakable—three parts of a whole, bound together in a way none of them could fully put into words.

Not yet, anyway.

PRESENT The change in the air was subtle at first—just a shift, something quiet, creeping beneath the surface like a storm waiting to break. But then it thickened, coiled, twisted into something heavy and undeniable, something that seeped into the walls, the sheets, their skin. It was a slow, smoldering burn, creeping into their bones, filling every breath with something sharp, something deep.

Zayne felt it like a pulse beneath his skin, a slow ache spreading through his veins, settling low in his gut, curling tight around the heavy weight of his cock where it lay against his thigh. He exhaled through his nose, trying to stay steady, but even that was a fucking struggle. His body was already turning against him, heat building behind his eyes, muscles going taut, coiling in anticipation. He wasn’t in rut yet, not fully, but it was coming. He could feel it.

Caleb was worse off.

The other Alpha was already shifting where he sat, restless, his hands twitching before curling into fists against the edge of the mattress like he was trying to tether himself. But restraint wasn’t in Caleb’s nature. Never had been. His body knew what it wanted, and it wanted now. It was evident in the way he pressed up against Zayne, broad chest to chest, his scent thick with rut, flooding the space around them. His lips curled, sharp, wicked, as he rolled his hips down in a slow, deliberate grind, dragging against Zayne’s cock just to watch the way his throat bobbed with the effort of restraint.

“Fuck, you’re already holding back?” Caleb murmured, voice rough, teasing, layered with heat that he wasn’t even pretending to hide. His breath ghosted against Zayne’s jaw, lips so fucking close but not touching, not yet, just enough to make it worse.

Zayne let out a low, guttural sound, more growl than breath, his hand snapping up to grip the back of Caleb’s neck, fingers flexing against sweat-damp skin. “We don’t need to do this,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away.

Caleb huffed out a sharp breath, biting down on his lower lip, dragging it between his teeth before releasing it with a quiet, breathy laugh. He rocked his hips again, grinding down, the friction sending a sharp, burning heat through both of them. “That’s cute,” he rasped. “Like you’re not already fucking soaked in scent.”

Zayne clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched at the words, the way his body ached for more, craved it, demanded it. Caleb was right—he fucking reeked of rut, the deep, dark spice of it thick in the air, mixing with Caleb’s scent in a way that was fucking dizzying, overwhelming. It curled around them both, binding them together in the worst best way.

Caleb didn’t wait for an answer. He surged forward, closing the space between them, capturing Zayne’s mouth in a kiss that was all heat and teeth, hungry, restless. Zayne let him, let Caleb take, let him press him down against the mattress, let his hands slide down his back, gripping muscle, feeling the way Caleb trembled under his fingers.

The rut hadn’t hit full force yet, but fuck, it was close.

And this—this wasn’t going to be enough.

Zayne barely remembered how they got here, barely remembered shoving off their clothes, the frantic, desperate way their hands tore at fabric, the way Caleb’s nails dug into his shoulders, dragging down his back, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. But now, Caleb was beneath him, panting, gasping, his face buried in the sheets as Zayne pressed into him, his cock stretching Caleb open, filling him, dragging against the tight, slick heat of him inch by inch.

Caleb shuddered beneath him, his breath catching on a moan, his hands fisting the sheets so tightly his knuckles went white. “Fuck,” he gasped, voice wrecked, body burning, back arching as he tried to push back, to take more, to take all of it.

Zayne gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into the sharp curve of Caleb’s hips, holding him still as he sank deeper, forcing himself to go slow, to drag it out. He wanted to wreck him, to pound him into the mattress until neither of them could fucking breathe, but he knew Caleb—knew the way he liked it, knew the way his body craved the stretch, the ache, the feeling of being taken apart, piece by fucking piece.

The sounds Caleb made—broken, breathless little noises, gasps and moans and desperate little whimpers—sent heat ripping through Zayne’s spine, curling low in his gut, tightening around his cock like a vice. “Fuck,” Zayne grunted, forehead dropping to the sweat-slick expanse of Caleb’s back, his breath coming in ragged, heavy pulls. “You’re—fucking squeezing me.”

Caleb let out a rough, choking sound, body trembling, shuddering around him. “Maybe—” he sucked in a sharp breath, shivering as Zayne pulled back, dragging his cock against the slick, swollen clutch of his body before pressing back in, slow, deep, almost mean. “Maybe I don’t—wanna let you go.”

Zayne groaned, his hips snapping forward, his restraint fraying, shattering. His thrusts picked up, deeper, harder, grinding into him, dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Caleb sobbed out a sound, arching, his hands clawing at the sheets, his body tightening, locking down around him.

It was too much.

Zayne growled, deep and primal, his knot swelling, locking them together, forcing him deep, keeping him buried inside. Caleb gasped, his whole body jerking, tensing, his muscles twitching under Zayne’s hands, his breath coming in sharp, uneven little moans.

Zayne let out a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead to the back of Caleb’s neck, his lips dragging along sweat-damp skin. His hands smoothed down Caleb’s sides, feeling every tremor, every little aftershock still working through him. The scent of rut was still thick in the air, suffocating, clinging to the sheets, to their skin.

They stayed like that for a while, panting, twitching through the last tremors of it, their bodies spent, their muscles locked, shaking.

Zayne’s head snapped up.

The apartment wasn’t silent.

A noise.

Faint.

Something breathy. Unsteady.

Caleb stirred beneath him. “You hear that?”

Zayne’s gut twisted, instincts locking onto something new, something dangerous. His world had been narrowed to Caleb for hours, but now—now that the haze was ebbing, another scent was creeping in, something sweet, thick, suffocating.

Omega. Not just any Omega. Her.

Zayne was moving before he had even fully untied from Caleb, instincts screaming, body demanding action. Caleb cursed behind him, barely managing to catch himself as Zayne pulled free, the knot finally giving way. He groaned, rolling onto his back, but his expression shifted the second he inhaled deep.

“Shit,” Caleb muttered, already moving. “That’s—”

Neither of them wasted time. A quick rinse, scrubbing the worst of their rut from their skin, before shoving on loose clothes, still radiating Alpha heat as they stalked into the hallway.

The scent hit them full-force in the living room.

She was there, curled on the floor, trembling, fingers twitching against the oversized fabric of her hoodie. Her scent was thick, pouring off her in waves, her heat pressing against every inch of the apartment like a fucking siren’s call.

Fuck.

She wasn’t supposed to go into heat for another few weeks.

Caleb exhaled sharply, glancing at Zayne, his violet eyes still dark with leftover rut. “Well,” he muttered, voice tight. “That’s a fucking problem.”

She whimpered when Zayne lifted her, fingers clutching weakly at his hoodie, her heat scent clinging to his skin like a plea. Zayne clenched his jaw. Caleb’s lips pressed into a thin line.

The scent was overwhelming now, worse than before–worse now that she was in their arms–the slick-sweet haze of her heat wrapping around them, sinking into their lungs. She had just been in heat last month. There shouldn’t have been a reason for her to go into heat for several months, but with two Alphas coming into rut at the same time; well, the odds weren’t in her favor.

Zayne exhaled slowly through his nose, tightening his grip around her as he stepped into her room. The space was warm, the air thick with her scent, but what caught his attention was the bed—the carefully arranged pile of blankets, pillows, soft things she'd unconsciously gathered over the past few days. 

A nest. 

Her nest.

He hadn’t noticed. Neither of them had.

“Fuck,” Caleb muttered under his breath.

Zayne carefully knelt, setting her down at the center of the nest. She let out a breathy sound, rubbing her cheek against the soft fabric, her body instinctively curling into the space she had made for herself. But when he tried to pull back, her hand shot out, clumsy and shaking, grabbing at his wrist.

Her eyes cracked open—barely focused, pupils blown wide. “Don’t—” her voice was small, raw, “don’t leave.”

Zayne swallowed hard.

Caleb ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling sharply. “Shit.” He dropped to his knees beside the nest, watching as she tried to reach for them again, her body moving on instinct, seeking their warmth, their scent.

Because they did this.

She whined again, softer this time, her fingers flexing weakly as they curled into Zayne’s hoodie. Her scent pulsed in the air—sweet, thick, drowning them in it. It was impossible to ignore, seeping into their skin, into their bones.

Zayne forced himself to breathe slowly, carefully, even as every part of him wanted to sink into her scent, press closer, give her whatever she was begging for.

She didn’t understand what she was asking. Not yet.

Caleb let out a sharp breath beside him, rubbing the back of his neck like it might help clear his head. It wouldn’t. Not with her lying there, heat-flushed and trembling, pupils blown wide as she looked at them.

“Fuck,” Caleb muttered under his breath. He was staring at her like she was the only thing in the world. Then he dragged a hand down his face and sat back on his heels, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “We—shit, we did this to her.”

Zayne swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He knew. The second he smelled her, he knew. Their ruts had thrown her cycle off-balance, pulled her into heat too soon. Her body reacted to them.

Her heat was because of them.

Zayne’s jaw ticked as he reached down, smoothing his palm over the sweat-damp skin of her arm. “We didn’t mean to,” he said, voice low, rough. It felt like a weak excuse.

Caleb huffed out a bitter laugh. “Doesn’t change shit, does it?”

She whimpered softly, shifting in the nest, her thighs rubbing together, seeking friction that wouldn’t satisfy her. The motion sent another wave of scent through the air, and Zayne felt his stomach clench.

Fuck.

Caleb’s whole body went tense beside him. He dragged in a shaky breath, then shoved himself away, back hitting the wall. He tilted his head up, staring at the ceiling like that would help anything.

“This is bad,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “Really, really fucking bad.”

She whimpered again, eyes fluttering open, hazy and unfocused. “Please,” she breathed, fingers twitching toward them.

The sound of her voice sent something deep and primal rolling through Zayne’s chest. His Omega. The thought shouldn’t be there, but it was. Her heat was crying for them, her instincts pulling her toward them. She wanted—needed—

Zayne gritted his teeth. No. She didn’t need them like that. Not when she was like this.

He exhaled through his nose, sharp and controlled. Focus.

She shifted again, her body aching for warmth, for touch. “Too hot,” she mumbled, voice thin. She tugged weakly at her hoodie, but her fingers were uncoordinated, trembling. Her heat was draining her strength fast. Too fast.

Zayne moved before thinking, reaching out to help. But the second his fingers brushed the fabric, she made a sound. A breathy, helpless little whimper.

His vision went red for half a second.

Caleb swore.

“Zayne,” he warned.

Zayne’s breathing was too slow, too careful. His muscles coiled under his skin, his entire body wired tight with restraint. He could feel her heat in his palm, radiating through the hoodie, sinking into him. So soft. So warm. So—

He pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

Caleb exhaled hard. He was watching, eyes dark, knowing. “That close?” he murmured.

Zayne clenched his jaw. “Shut the fuck up.”

Caleb didn’t push, which meant he wasn’t any better.

The room was silent except for her soft, needy breaths. Zayne could feel the way she was still reaching for them, the way her body was practically singing for them to come closer. His instincts screamed at him to do exactly that.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done—not touching her.

Caleb let his head drop back against the wall again, breathing in slow, measured drags. “We can’t leave her alone like this.”

Zayne exhaled sharply. “I know.”

“She’s not gonna last long like this, man.” Caleb’s voice was quieter now, but just as strained. “She’s already burning up.”

Zayne looked at her. Her skin was flushed, her lips slightly parted as she panted through the heat pulsing through her body. She needed them. But not like this.

Not like this.

His stomach twisted.

Caleb ran a hand down his face. “I hate this.”

Zayne did too. Every instinct in him wanted to take care of her, to fix this, but fixing it meant crossing a line neither of them were willing to cross.

Instead, he reached for the blankets in her nest, pulling them up around her, tucking them in close, careful not to let his fingers brush her skin again.

She sighed at the warmth, curling deeper into the soft fabric, murmuring something under her breath that neither of them could make out.

Caleb let out a slow breath. “So, what the fuck do we do?”

Zayne stared down at her for a long moment, watching the way her fingers curled weakly around the edge of the blanket, the way her lashes fluttered as she fought against the haze.

“Stay,” he said simply.

Caleb’s brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue.

Because as wrong as this situation was, leaving her like this would be worse.

So they stayed.

They stayed.

Time crawled.

Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours.

They stayed.

At first, they’d kept their distance—one on either side of her nest, unmoving, watching her carefully, speaking only when necessary. They kept their hands to themselves. They kept their instincts leashed.

It wasn’t enough.

She was getting worse.

Her breaths were coming too fast now, shallow and desperate. Sweat slicked her skin, dampened her clothes, leaving her overheated, burning alive. She twisted restlessly in her nest, whimpering in pain more than need now. Her body was fighting itself, spiraling deeper into heat at a rate neither of them had ever seen before.

Zayne felt his stomach clench.

“Fuck,” Caleb whispered hoarsely, scrubbing a hand down his face. “This—this isn’t normal, man.”

Zayne’s jaw ticked. “I know.”

They both knew.

This wasn’t like last time. Last time, she’d had a warning. Time to prepare, to take suppressants if she wanted, to lock herself away and ride it out at her pace. This? This was something else.

Her body hadn’t been ready for heat. It had been thrown into it, dragged under like a drowning animal, and it was killing her.

She let out a weak whimper, barely able to move now. Her eyes cracked open—dazed, unfocused.

She didn’t even recognize them anymore.

That was it. That was the line.

Zayne and Caleb locked eyes.

Neither of them spoke at first. They didn’t have to.

They both knew what the other was thinking.

Zayne swallowed, his throat dry. “She’s not gonna make it through this alone.”

Caleb’s face was tight, his whole body rigid. “I know.”

Another whimper from the nest—softer this time, weaker. Her fingers barely twitched where they were curled into the blanket, as if she were trying to reach for something she couldn’t even see anymore.

Zayne clenched his jaw.

Caleb exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for half a second before opening them again. “She’s gonna hate us for this.”

Zayne nodded, a sharp, decisive motion. “Probably.”

Caleb swallowed, his throat working. He hesitated, then exhaled. “I’d rather have her alive and pissed at me than—” His voice caught. He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

Zayne inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the thick, sweetened haze of her heat. His instincts roared, ready, waiting. But his mind was still steady, still clear.

“We do this right,” he said roughly. “Slow. Careful. No claiming.”

Caleb’s nostrils flared, but he nodded.

There was no more debate after that.

The first thing they did was slow her down.

She was panting now, her body trembling violently in her nest, her skin slick with sweat. The fever was burning through her too fast, too hard. She needed more than just their touch—she needed care.

Caleb was already moving, his fingers deft as he reached for the water bottle on her bedside table. He cracked the cap open, shifting closer to where she lay tangled in blankets, barely lucid.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough but softer now. He reached for her, cupping the back of her head gently, lifting her just enough to press the bottle to her lips. “Drink for me, yeah?”

She whimpered at the contact, her hands weakly grasping at the front of his shirt. She tried to press herself into him, into his heat, his scent, but he held her steady.

“Not yet,” Caleb murmured, his voice soothing. “C’mon, baby, need you to drink first.”

Her lips parted obediently when he tilted the bottle, and she took slow uneven sips, swallowing between shallow breaths.

Zayne watched, his body tight, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could smell her exhaustion, her frustration. She was running on nothing but need now, instincts taking over, seeking, reaching—pleading.

His gut twisted. She shouldn’t have to beg.

The second Caleb pulled the bottle away, her hands were moving again, small and clumsy, reaching out, seeking them.

Zayne exhaled slowly, leaning down, his palm finally finding the curve of her thigh. She shivered under his touch, a choked sound leaving her lips.

“Easy,” he murmured, fingers stroking slow, measured paths up the length of her thigh, easing her open. “We’ve got you.”

Her breath hitched.

Zayne’s palm dragged higher, so slow, so careful, skimming over damp heated skin. His fingers spread, grazing, teasing, preparing.

Her whole body reacted.

Caleb chuckled, rough and breathless. “That’s what you wanted, huh, sweetheart?”

She whimpered.

Zayne’s gaze flicked up, meeting Caleb’s over the curve of her body. They had her. She was theirs.

Caleb exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before shifting back down to her. He ran his knuckles along her flushed cheek, his mouth quirking into something almost fond.

“She’s desperate for it,” Caleb murmured.

Zayne hummed. “She’s gonna get it.”

And then he kissed her.

Soft. Slow. Lazy.

Not rushed, not greedy, not taking. Just giving.

Her whimper turned into a shuddering moan against his lips, her body arching into him, for him, melting beneath his hands as he prepared her, opening her up.

Caleb pressed a kiss to her temple, whispering, “We’ve got you, baby. We’ve got you.”

Zayne settled between her thighs, a wall of heat and muscle, pressing her down into the soft tangled mess of blankets beneath them. His body was solid, heavy, unyielding, the sheer size of him a reminder that she was completely at his mercy. She was so small beneath him, so soft, so pliant—her body trembling with exhaustion but still moving, still seeking, still aching for more. The fevered flush of her skin burned against his, sweat-slicked and desperate, her scent thick enough to drown him, coating his tongue, clinging to his lungs. It made his head swim, made his muscles coil tight with the effort of restraint, made his cock throb where it lay heavy between them.

Even now, wrecked and ruined, she was still trying to move, her hips rolling weakly, a slow, pitiful grind against the underside of his length. She was struggling, her body too far gone to manage anything more than pleading little movements, rubbing against him, seeking relief, lost to the hunger of her own heat. She didn’t have to fight for it. She didn’t have to beg.

Zayne had her.

His hands traced over her body, slow, steady, dragging heat in their wake as they mapped over every inch of flushed, fevered skin. He spread her open with easy, effortless strength, holding her still, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. His thumbs pressed into the soft dip of her hips, his fingers gripping the curve of her thighs, steadying her. She was so wet—pulsing, dripping, her slick coating his fingers, her body already preparing itself for him.

For him.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through his ribs, sinking deep into the space between them.

She whimpered at the sound, an immediate, instinctive reaction, her body going tense before shuddering apart again, thighs twitching like she wanted to wrap them around his waist, to pull him closer, to lock him in. She was burning up, feverish, overwhelmed, but she still wanted to. Still needed.

Zayne exhaled sharply, dragging his cock through her soaked folds, coating himself in the mess of her slick, feeling the way her body quivered at the contact. The heat of her, the sheer wetness, the way she clenched around nothing—it nearly undid him. His muscles went rigid, his fingers flexing against her skin, restraint hanging by a thread, fraying with every shuddered breath.

“You’re burning up, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick, hoarse with the weight of his need. He let the tip of his cock nudge at her entrance, push, press, tease—just enough to make her gasp, just enough to make her squirm—but not enough to give her what she needed. Not yet.

“This what you needed?”

She made a choked, needy sound, her fingers twitching against his biceps, nails barely scratching at his skin, useless and weak but still trying.

Zayne chuckled, low and lazy, but there was something dark beneath it, something possessive, something just a little cruel.

“Gonna take care of you,” he murmured, soothing, promising. “Gonna give you exactly what you need.”

And then he pushed in.

Her gasp broke into a moan, her back arching, her body tightening around him, sucking him in, taking him.

Zayne’s jaw clenched, a growl catching in his throat as he forced himself to go slow, to keep himself steady. She was so fucking wet, her body made to take him, welcoming him, milking him—but she was tight, too tight, scorching around him, squeezing down like she wanted to keep him there forever. His fingers dug into the softness of her thighs, spreading her wider, holding her open, watching the way her face twisted, overwhelmed, undone, lost in the feeling of him.

“That’s it,” he praised, voice rough, gravel-thick. “Takin’ me so well, baby. Fuck.”

She whined, a high, broken sound, her legs finally locking around his waist, ankles hooking behind him, desperate to keep him close, to keep him inside.

As if he was ever going to leave.

Zayne exhaled harshly, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing her in, drowning in her scent. His hips rolled, deep, slow, dragging the full length of him inside her inch by inch, stretching her open, filling her until there was nowhere left to go, until he was buried to the hilt, locked in place by the clutch of her body.

She pulsed around him, clenching, gripping, desperate.

He groaned, his hands dragging up her waist, feeling the way she trembled beneath him, barely able to hold herself together.

“You needed this bad, huh?” he murmured against her ear, his lips brushing her overheated skin, his voice dripping with amusement, with affection.

She whimpered, nodding weakly, helpless.

Zayne’s lips curled.

He pulled back, the thick drag of his cock against her swollen walls making her gasp, before thrusting back in—slow, deep, perfect.

Her whole body shuddered.

From his place at the edge of the nest, Caleb let out a sharp breath, barely more than a muttered, “Shit.”

Zayne ignored him. His focus was on her. Only her.

His rhythm was unhurried, deliberate, every thrust measured, controlled, every roll of his hips drawing a fresh gasp from her throat, a fresh clench of her body around him. Her fingers clung to his back, weak and trembling, like she was afraid he’d pull away, like she was afraid she’d wake up and find herself alone, still aching, still empty.

“That’s it,” Zayne murmured, voice rough, full of praise. His hand slid up, cupping her jaw, tilting her face up, forcing her dazed, heat-fogged eyes to meet his. ��Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

She moaned, nodding, lips parting like she wanted to answer, but only breathless sounds escaped.

He shushed her, thumb dragging slow over her cheek. “I know, baby. I know.”

His thrusts picked up, deeper, stronger, pushing her higher, pulling her apart.

Her body reacted instantly, her back bowing, her legs squeezing tighter, her cries turning sharper, higher, desperate.

Zayne gritted his teeth, feeling the way she clenched around him, taking him, milking him, her body pulling him in, demanding more. His knot was swelling, stretching, locking him in, binding them together.

She sobbed out a sound, her body tensing, shaking apart beneath him.

Zayne groaned, his lips finding her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “Almost there, baby,” he murmured against her skin. “Gonna lock you down, keep you so full—”

She cried out, breaking.

Zayne felt it—the way she clenched, trembled, shattered around him, her body spasming with pleasure, dragging him down with her.

It tipped him over the edge, his knot swelling fully, locking them together, forcing him deeper.

He growled, deep and satisfied, pressing her down, keeping her still as he spilled inside her, filling her, marking her in the way her body demanded.

His forehead dropped to hers, his breath ragged.

She whimpered, soft, spent, perfect.

Zayne stroked her cheek, his fingers slow, soothing, grounding. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.

Caleb let out a rough exhale. “She’s still got hours left, man.”

Zayne lifted his head, meeting Caleb’s gaze over her trembling form.

His lips curled.

“Then we’d better take our time.”

The heat was still there, a slow, smoldering burn licking at the edges of her senses, no longer all-consuming but still refusing to fade completely. It coiled deep inside her belly, an ember rather than an inferno, waiting to be stoked back into flames with just the right touch. Her breath came in soft, uneven gasps, her body trembling with the aftershocks, the last echoes of pleasure still ghosting through her nerves. Everything felt raw, sensitive, too much and not enough all at once.

Zayne was still locked inside her, the thick swell of his knot keeping them bound together, his body a solid immovable weight pinning her to the nest. He was heavy in the best way, grounding her, the slow rise and fall of his chest pressing against hers, steady, strong. His warmth seeped into her skin, a contrast to the fever still simmering in her veins. His lips brushed lazily over her temple, the softest of touches, unhurried and absentminded, like he had all the time in the world.

And then there was Caleb.

He sat at the edge of the nest, legs crossed, forearms resting on his knees, one hand running through the mess of his dark hair, fingers gripping like he was trying to steady himself. His sharp violet eyes stayed locked on her, the intensity of his stare sending a different kind of shiver down her spine. He looked wrecked—tense, drawn too tight, like the last few hours had taken a toll on him as well. She didn’t doubt it.

“Hey,” Caleb murmured, voice low and rough, tinged with something unreadable. “You with us, sweetheart?”

She blinked, slow and dazed, the weight of their gazes anchoring her back into herself. She wasn’t floating anymore. She was here, present, body aching but mind clear enough now to think. She shifted slightly, testing, but the moment she tried to move, Zayne’s grip tightened on her waist, holding her still.

“Easy,” he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion, but there was something firm beneath it, something protective.

Her throat felt raw, dry, words catching before she could form them properly. She swallowed, tried again, her voice coming out hoarse and raspy, the edges frayed. “Did you two seriously wait until I was half-dead to do something?”

Caleb exhaled sharply, a sound between a groan and a laugh, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Zayne huffed a quiet breath against her skin, his chest shaking slightly with a low chuckle. “Yeah, she’s back.”

She tried to glare at them, but it was useless. She was still too wrung out, every muscle in her body slack and boneless, wrecked beyond measure. Instead, she just huffed out a breath and shifted again, deliberately, grinding herself against the thick stretch of Zayne’s knot, feeling the deep residual throb still pulsing inside her.

Zayne grunted, fingers digging into her hip, his breath going sharp against her temple. “You keep moving like that, sweetheart, and we’re gonna have a real problem.”

A slow smirk curled across her lips, lazy and teasing. “Maybe I like causing problems.”

Caleb let out a strangled noise, something that sounded dangerously close to actual pain. “Can we not do this right now? Jesus.”

She turned her head slightly, blinking up at him, feigning innocence. “What, jealous?”

Caleb’s jaw clenched, his violet eyes flashing dark with something sharp, something hot. He rolled his eyes, but it was too late—she’d already seen it, already caught the way his fingers twitched where they rested against his knee, like he was fighting the instinct to reach for her.

Zayne chuckled, voice low and rough, full of amusement. “She’s still a menace. Good to know heat doesn’t change that.”

She huffed, shifting again just to test, just to push, just to see how far she could take it. The answering growl that rumbled through Zayne’s chest sent a shiver through her spine.

“You guys gonna help me or what?” she muttered, tilting her chin up defiantly.

Caleb inhaled sharply through his nose, visibly reining himself in before shaking his head. “Not until you drink more water and eat something.”

She groaned, loud and dramatic, throwing her head back against the pillows. “Oh my god, I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caleb muttered, already reaching for the bottle of water nearby. “You’re not dripping slick out of thin air, princess. You’re gonna dehydrate if we don’t take care of you.”

Zayne’s breath was warm against her ear, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. “See? Bossy little shit.”

Caleb made an annoyed sound before promptly throwing a vitamin packet at Zayne’s head.

Zayne caught it effortlessly with one hand, not even bothering to lift his head.

“Fuck both of you,” Caleb muttered under his breath before tearing open a protein bar, breaking off a piece, and holding it out toward her. “Eat, now.”

She groaned again but took the food, chewing slowly. The burn in her veins hadn’t faded, hadn’t cooled, but the food helped ground her, settled something deep in her gut, something instinctual.

Caleb watched her carefully, eyes tracking her every movement, every little twitch of exhaustion, his expression unreadable. He was always like that, always noticing everything, always seeing too much.

“You scared the shit out of us,” he muttered, quieter now.

Her chewing slowed.

Zayne’s fingers traced slow, absent patterns over her hip, soothing, steady. “Your body wasn’t ready for this heat,” he murmured. “We knew it wasn’t normal, but we didn’t know how bad it was gonna get.”

She swallowed, finally looking at them—really looking.

Caleb exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze darting away for the first time. “We weren’t gonna do anything, you know.” His voice was rough, strained. “Not without you actually saying you wanted it.”

Zayne hummed against her skin, the sound low, full of unspoken agreement. “But when you stopped recognizing us…” His grip on her hip tightened, just slightly, just enough for her to feel the way his fingers trembled. “We weren’t gonna let you suffer, sweetheart. We weren’t gonna let you—”

He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

She knew.

Her chest tightened, something hot and aching blooming behind her ribs, pressing up into her throat.

“You guys are so fucking stupid,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, lacking its usual bite.

Caleb arched a brow, lips pressing into a flat line. “Excuse me?”

She exhaled slowly, shifting just enough to bury her face into the curve of Zayne’s neck, breathing him in. His scent was warm and familiar, something deep in her body recognizing it, settling into it, soothed by it. “Of course I wanted you to help.”

Zayne went still.

Caleb blinked, his entire body tensing.

She sighed, nuzzling closer, her voice muffled against Zayne’s skin. “Like I wouldn’t have picked you two anyway.”

The silence stretched, thick, weighted, something unspoken settling between them.

Then Caleb let out a sharp, exhausted breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Zayne huffed a low laugh, his grip on her easing, shifting, turning into something warmer, something softer. “Should’ve said something sooner, sweetheart.”

She scoffed, lips brushing against the side of his throat. “Maybe I wanted to make you work for it.”

Caleb groaned, head tipping back. “You’re literally killing me.”

She grinned. “Not yet.”

Zayne let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, his lips ghosting over her ear. “Then let’s fix that.”

The nest was still thick with the scent of heat and rut, the air charged with something heavy, almost tangible. It clung to them, settled deep in their bones, in their lungs, in the spaces between their bodies. She could feel it, the way it wrapped around her like a second skin, the way it refused to fade even as the worst of the frenzy passed.

Zayne was still inside her, still thick and locked, his cock pulsing faintly with the aftershocks of his release. Every now and then, a slow, lazy throb worked through him, making her whimper softly, body tightening instinctively in response. He smirked against her hair, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to her temple.

“Still sensitive, sweetheart?” His voice was a low murmur, thick with satisfaction, with something else—something deeper.

She wanted to snap at him, to roll her eyes, but the truth was that she was still trembling, her body wrung out but still burning, still hungry, still aching. The heat wasn’t gone. The worst of the desperation had dulled, but her body still thrummed with need, still whispered more, more, more in the back of her mind.

Caleb watched them from where he sat at the edge of the nest, jaw tight, fingers flexing where they rested on his knee. His violet eyes were darker than usual, almost black in the dim light, and she could feel the weight of his stare, could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, sharp and obvious. There was a reason Alpha’s didn’t typically share burning ire for one another usually did it but she had a feeling that the relationship between them wasn’t typical.

It never had been.

She let her gaze drift over him, slow, assessing, deliberate. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. The way he was breathing a little too fast. The way his thighs tensed subtly, like he was holding himself back. The way his fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for her but wouldn’t let himself.

Her lips curled slightly, lazy and knowing.

“Caleb.” Her voice was hoarse, rough from all the moaning, the gasping, the crying out, but she still managed to make it sound teasing, sweet.

His jaw tightened. “What?”

She shifted against Zayne, feeling the stretch of his knot, the way it locked her open, kept her full. She sighed, rolling her hips just slightly, just enough to feel that dull, aching throb of overstimulation, the wet, slick mess between her thighs.

Caleb’s nostrils flared.

She licked her lips, slow. “Are you just gonna sit there and watch all night?”

Zayne made a low noise in his throat, amusement curling at the edges of it. “You’re such a menace.”

She hummed, tilting her head slightly, looking up at Caleb from beneath her lashes. “What’s wrong? Don’t want me anymore?”

His expression darkened, something sharp flashing across his face. “You know that’s not it.”

She did. She could see it. Could smell it, the way his rut was still simmering beneath the surface, the way his restraint was fraying, threadbare and weak.

Zayne chuckled against her skin, his fingers dragging over her waist, possessive, lazy. “You’re really trying to break him, huh?”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

Caleb exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, his shoulders rising and falling with something unsteady, barely contained. “Fuck.” His voice was rough, wrecked. He was losing.

Good.

She held out a hand, palm up, inviting. “Come here, Caleb.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles going white. He was still hesitating, still fighting against whatever last shred of self-control he had left.

Zayne huffed, amusement thick in his voice. “If you don’t take her up on that, man, I will.”

His breathing was ragged, uneven, his muscles tensed like he was still holding himself back, still fighting not to crush her under the weight of his need.His pupils were blown, his gaze hungry, his body trembling with restraint. 

“You sure?” His voice was a growl, low and dangerous.

Her breath hitched, her pulse jumping. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

Something in him changed completely as his mouth crashed against hers, rough, claiming, all teeth and heat and hunger. With his hand cradling her jaw he pulled her closer and sighed into her mouth as she moaned into it, arching, pressing up against him, feeling the hard, unrelenting lines of his body, the way he fit against her like he was always meant to be there.

Zayne let out a deep, satisfied hum against the side of her neck, still lazily grinding his hips against her, still half-hard despite already being locked inside her. “About fucking time,” he muttered.

Caleb ignored him, his grip tightening on her waist, his body pressing against her side and holding her as close as he could. His rut was catching up to him fast, hitting him hard, sending a violent tremor through his muscles. His scent spiked, thick and sharp, making her head swim, making her mouth water.

She could feel him, the hard line of his cock pressing against her outer thigh, heavy and burning hot, so close to where she needed him but not close enough.

She whined softly, shifting, pressing up against him. “Caleb.”

He growled, low and guttural, his hands dragging down her arms, over her ribs, down to her waist, gripping, kneading, feeling. His fingers dug in, possessive, like he was trying to memorize the shape of her, the way she felt under his hands.

Zayne chuckled lazily against her neck, his own hips still shifting in slow, teasing movements, his knot keeping him locked inside her, keeping her stuffed full. "Losing your mind already, huh?" His voice was thick with amusement, with satisfaction.

Caleb growled, low and warning, but it only made Zayne laugh. Tired of waiting to have to pop his knot, but also tired of not having her in his arms. 

"Relax," Zayne murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "She can take it. Can't you, sweetheart?" His fingers ghosted over her stomach, slow and teasing, as if to emphasize how absolutely ruined she already was, how full she was stretched between them.

Zayne shifted against her first, the motion sending a dull, aching throb through her body as his knot pulsed inside her, still keeping her stretched around him, still locked in place. He exhaled a low, pleased sound against her neck, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her waist, possessive and indulgent.

"Fucking perfect," he murmured, lips brushing over her sweat-dampened skin. "Completely wrecked between us, huh?"

She barely managed a sound in response, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, her body still trembling in the aftermath. Caleb was slumped over her on the other side, his breath coming in slow, and uneven pants, his face buried against the crook of her neck. His hands were still gripping her thighs, still digging into her skin like he wasn’t ready to let go, like the last of his rut was still clinging to him, refusing to let him pull away.

She was utterly trapped between them, pinned by the weight of their bodies, by the thick unyielding knot still keeping her locked, still filling her past the point of sanity.

And god, she loved it.

Zayne chuckled, the sound low and smug as he shifted again, pressing even closer, rubbing his nose along the curve of her jaw. “Still burning up, sweetheart?”

She exhaled shakily, her fingers twitching where they rested against his chest. “It’s not gone yet,” she admitted, her voice raw from moaning, from gasping, from crying out their names until her throat ached.

Caleb groaned against her skin, his hands tightening on her thighs, his breath shuddering. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Of course it’s not.”

Zayne only hummed in amusement, his hand slipping lower, dragging slow, teasing circles over the curve of her belly. “Well,” he mused, his tone deceptively thoughtful. “I suppose that means we’re not done, are we?”

Her breath caught, something molten twisting low in her belly, a new wave of heat licking at her nerves, sparking her body back to life. The thought of more—the thought of being taken again, of being used until there wasn’t a single ounce of heat left in her—made her thighs clench instinctively, made a quiet, needy whimper slip from her throat before she could stop it.

Caleb groaned again, his entire body going tense, the sharp flare of his scent spiking around them like a warning. “You can’t just—fuck, Zayne, don’t start that shit—”

Zayne only laughed, smug as ever, his fingers dipping lower, skating teasingly close to the mess between her thighs, to the place where he was still locked inside her, still keeping her stretched and full.

"Why not?" he murmured, his voice dark and knowing. "She wants it."

Caleb let out a low, warning growl, but he didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t stop the way his fingers flexed on her thighs, like he was already losing the battle with himself.

Zayne smirked, dragging his teeth over the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Tell him, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Tell him how much you want it. How much you need it.”

She shivered, her body already betraying her, already responding to his words, to the promise laced in his voice.

She swallowed, tilting her head just slightly, her lips barely brushing against Caleb’s ear as she whispered, breathless and sweet—

“Please.”

Zayne’s knot softened first, the pressure inside her easing just enough that she could feel the slow, messy slide of his cock as it withdrew, leaving her gaping, dripping, a wet, obscene heat clinging to every inch of her skin. The absence was unbearable, a sudden, aching emptiness that sent a shudder through her, her body clenching down instinctively, desperate to hold onto the fullness that was slipping away.

A needy whimper broke from her lips, unbidden, her thighs twitching, her breath catching on the loss.

Zayne groaned as he pulled back, his hands gripping her waist for a moment, steadying himself. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse. “Look at you—still so fucking open for us.”

She couldn’t answer—could barely think—because even before she could process it, before she could do anything but tremble from the loss, Caleb was there. No hesitation. No restraint.

He shoved himself into the space Zayne left behind, filling her in the same instant she lost him, pushing his cock into her slick, and swollen heat with a force that made her cry out, her body arching, her fingers clawing at the sheets beneath her. His rut was still running hot, still burning through his veins, still demanding more, more, more—and he gave in to it completely, burying himself to the hilt, groaning low and wrecked at the feeling of her wrapped tight around him, soaking, stretched, trembling.

His hands gripped her hips hard, pulling her against him, dragging her body up to meet his brutal, claiming thrusts.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice ragged, his forehead pressing against her shoulder. “I can still feel him in you.”

She sobbed at the words, her entire body clenching around him, overstimulated, ruined, and yet—still aching for more. The heat hadn’t faded. It still whispered in the back of her mind, still begged for everything they had to give, still kept her body open, pliant, desperate.

Zayne chuckled somewhere beside her, his hands sliding over her stomach, possessive and slow. “That’s because she’s meant to be filled, Caleb.” His voice was dark, knowing, his fingers ghosting lower, dipping between her thighs where Caleb was already fucking into her, spreading her open all over again.

Caleb snarled, thrusting deeper, harder, chasing his own knot, his body tensing with the sheer force of his need. “I know,” he growled. “I know.”

Where Zayne was gentle and firm, Caleb was ruthless. His thrusts were deep, punishing, merciless. His grip on her hips was bruising, his fingers digging into sweat-slick flesh, holding her in place, making sure she didn’t slip away from him—not even an inch. Not that she could or that she wanted to.

She was wrecked between them, overstimulated, stretched raw, completely lost in the haze of her heat. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Her body clenched down on Caleb’s cock, demanding more, sobbing for more.

Caleb growled, the sound feral, half-crazed. “So fucking tight,” he bit out, his hips snapping against her, his cock dragging against every sensitive, swollen inch inside her. “Still so fucking wet.”

Zayne chuckled—low, dark, satisfied. He was still close, kneeling beside her, watching where Caleb slid in and out, filthy and slick. His fingers traced absent, possessive patterns over her stomach, teasing at the skin, pressing down just enough that she could feel every thick, throbbing inch of Caleb inside her.

“You feel that, sweetheart?” Zayne murmured against her ear, his voice all dark amusement, all wicked promise. “How deep he is? How perfect you take him?”

She whimpered, ruined, her nails digging into the sheets, her body trembling, helpless beneath them. Caleb’s breath hitched, his pace faltering for a second—just for a second—because he felt it too. Felt the way her body pulled him in, refused to let him go, milked him for every inch, every thrust.

He wasn’t going to last. Not with her like this. Not when she was soaked, stretched, dripping from both of them. His fingers slid down, gripping the backs of her thighs, spreading her wider. He pounded into her, relentless, deep, unyielding.

Zayne hummed, dragging his fingers down lower, brushing over where she and Caleb were joined, slick, messy, obscene. He groaned, shaking his head. “Fuck, Caleb—look at her. She’s taking you so well.”

Caleb swore, shaking, sweat dripping down his spine.

He was close. So fucking close.

His knot was swelling, throbbing, pulsing inside her.

Her broken moans, her slick heat, the way she gasped and whimpered and sobbed for it— it was pushing him over the edge, driving him insane, making it impossible to hold back.

Zayne’s voice was low, knowing. “She’s ready, Caleb.” His lips brushed over her temple, soothing, taunting, unshakable. “Go on. Knot her, I want to see it happen this time,” having been on the receiving end more than once. While it did feel good in its own way, he always wondered just how it looked. 

Caleb snapped, thrusts turned brutal, desperate, losing all rhythm. His fingers dug into her thighs, holding her wide, open, his. She sobbed his name, shaking, coming apart, her walls clenching, fluttering, sucking him in deeper, deeper, deeper and then his knot swelled completely, locking them together, sealing him inside her.

He roared, wrecked, trembling, spilling deep, filling her, marking her completely.

Zayne groaned beside them, his hands still dragging slow, teasing circles over her sweat-drenched skin. “Good girl,” he murmured, voice thick, rough with satisfaction. “That’s it. Take it.”

The room was quiet now, the only sound was the steady rhythm of her breathing, the occasional soft sigh as she shifted in her sleep, pressed between them, utterly relaxed. Caleb’s knot had softened, and after a long, slow, careful withdrawal, they’d cleaned her up as best they could. She’d barely stirred, only murmuring softly, nuzzling into Zayne’s chest as he tucked the blanket around her, fingers brushing absently over her spine.

They’d promised to make her shower later, but for now, she needed rest. Zayne leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his damp hair, exhaling slowly. His body was heavy, exhausted, but his mind was still racing.

Caleb was sitting at the edge of the bed, phone in one hand, ordering food while keeping one eye on her.

“She’s gonna be starving when she wakes up,” he muttered, swiping through the menu. “You know how she gets.”

Zayne huffed out a tired laugh. “Yeah. If she doesn’t eat exactly what she wants, she’s gonna be a menace.”

Caleb’s lips twitched. “So, extra dumplings.”

“Obviously.”

A few more taps, then Caleb put the phone down, rolling his shoulders, stretching his arms behind his head. His body still thrummed with residual heat, but it had eased now, settled. For a while, neither of them spoke. Zayne let his eyes drift to her—curled up, completely wrecked, completely safe. Her scent was still thick, sweet, lingering in the air, mixing with theirs, claiming every inch of the bed.

Something in his chest tightened, Caleb must have noticed, because he exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair before finally saying, “So… what the fuck happens now?”

Zayne’s fingers stilled against the sheets. He knew this conversation was coming. Had been waiting for it.

Still, he kept his voice even. “With her?”

Caleb’s jaw tensed. He glanced at her, then at Zayne, then looked away. “With all of us.”

Zayne breathed in deep, then let it out slowly.

They’d been here before. Not exactly here, not tangled up in heat and sweat and exhaustion, but close enough. Close enough that the weight of it pressed against his ribs, something unspoken and old and complicated.

Alpha-on-alpha relationships weren’t easy. They were incredibly misunderstood, people assumed it was all about dominance, about fights and aggression, about who was stronger, who was more in control, that had never been what it was like with them.

Zayne shifted, leaning forward slightly, his forearm resting on his knee. He met Caleb’s gaze head-on. “You tell me,” he said, quiet but steady. “What do you want to happen?”

Caleb’s throat bobbed. He looked away for a second, then back at Zayne, something raw and uncertain flickering behind his eyes.

“I don’t—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t fucking know, man. I just—”

His hand twitched at his side.

Zayne knew him too well to miss the tension in his shoulders, the hesitation that wasn’t really hesitation at all.

Zayne’s voice softened. “Yeah, you do.”

Caleb let out a frustrated sound, raking a hand through his already-ruined hair. “Fuck. Fine. Yeah, I do.” He exhaled, pressing his palms together, elbows on his knees, eyes flicking to her again before settling on Zayne. “I want—” He exhaled sharply. “This. I want this.”

Zayne watched him carefully.

Caleb’s throat worked as he swallowed, his jaw tight, tense, conflicted. “I want her,” he admitted, voice low but unwavering. “And I want you, and it's the only thing I’ve ever wanted for as long as I can remember.”

Something hot and sharp flashed through Zayne’s chest. He should have expected it. Had expected it. But hearing it—hearing it out loud—was different. It shouldn’t have been but it was.

Caleb scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know it’s not fucking normal,” he muttered. “People don’t get it. They don’t get us. They think we’re supposed to—what? Fight it out? Figure out who the ‘real Alpha’ is? Fuck that.”

Zayne’s lips quirked. “We both know you’d lose.”

Caleb let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Fuck you.”

Zayne huffed a laugh, but it faded quickly because beneath all the teasing, the truth still sat there, heavy between them. This wasn’t a new conversation but it was the first time they’d had it like this. Seriously. 

Caleb’s voice dropped, quieter now. More serious. “I don’t want to choose.”

Zayne exhaled slowly.

Caleb shook his head. “I won’t choose.”

Zayne’s chest ached. He understood that. He understood it so fucking well.

And fuck, maybe it was selfish, “I don’t want to, either,” Zayne admitted, the words barely above a murmur. Caleb’s shoulders sagged slightly, something like relief and exhaustion hitting at the same time.

Zayne glanced down at her again—the third piece of this equation, the one who changed everything. He let his fingers brush over her bare shoulder, a silent touch, grounding.

Caleb watched, then reached out, too. His fingers tangled with Zayne’s over her skin. A beat. A breath. A decision made in silence.

Caleb swallowed, his voice quieter now. Surer. “Then we figure it out. Together.”

Zayne nodded. “Yeah.”

No matter how hard it had been or how hard it was going to be or what people would think of them or how Alpha’s were supposed to act. He didn’t care, and neither did Zayne. Because when it came down to facts, they had always been stronger together.

The nest still smelled like her.

Sweet and slick, heat-heavy, soaking into the blankets, into their skin, their bones. But her scent had started to fade just enough that Zayne was aware of something else—something that had been there all along, lurking beneath the haze of instinct and need.

Caleb.

His scent was thicker now, sharper. Not as raw as before, but still simmering, still coiled tight in his muscles, in his breath.

Zayne could feel it.

Could feel him.

The weight of Caleb’s gaze, the restless way he shifted beside him, fingers flexing against the sheets.

They were both still wired, still burning under their skin.

And she was still asleep between them, her soft breaths even, her body completely spent.

Zayne exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, trying to settle the static under his skin.

Caleb moved before he could react.

A sharp press of lips, firm hands shoving him back.

Zayne barely had a chance to let out a low grunt before his back hit the blankets, Caleb’s body following, pinning, claiming.

Zayne’s lips parted—surprised, breathless, already sinking into it.

He shouldn’t have been surprised.

Not really.

Caleb’s mouth was hot, relentless, bruising, his hands already finding Zayne’s wrists, pinning them above his head, holding him still.

Zayne growled against his lips, pushing up, testing, challenging. Caleb just chuckled darkly, biting at his bottom lip.

“You’re still wound up,” he murmured, breathless, lips dragging along Zayne’s jaw.

Zayne exhaled sharply, fighting the instinct to roll them over, take control. “So are you.”

Caleb smirked against his throat. “Yeah. But I’m the one on top.”

And then he pushed down, grinding their bodies together, their cocks already hard, aching, slick with leftover heat.

Zayne let out a sharp breath through his nose, eyes dark, and hazy. Caleb’s weight was solid, grounding and overwhelming.

Zayne knew how this worked.

Knew that when Caleb wanted to take, he took.

And fuck, maybe Zayne wanted to be taken.

Caleb must have felt his body go still beneath him, because his smirk widened. “Yeah,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along Zayne’s throat, teeth grazing. “You’re gonna let me have you, aren’t you?”

Zayne exhaled, tilting his head back, baring his throat just enough to tell Caleb exactly what he already knew.

“Do it,” Zayne rasped.

Caleb didn’t hesitate.

He shoved Zayne’s legs apart, settling between them, spreading him wide. His grip was tight, unrelenting, keeping Zayne exactly where he wanted him.

And then he pushed inside.

A low, wrecked groan tore from Zayne’s throat, his head falling back against the blankets. Caleb was thick, heavy, deep, stretching him open.

Zayne’s fingers curled into fists, his body tense, taut, barely holding on.

Caleb laughed softly, rough with strain. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, voice thick with heat. “Still trying to fight it, huh?”

Zayne growled, his hips bucking up, trying to take more, trying to challenge.

Caleb let out a sharp, delighted breath—then grabbed Zayne’s wrists again, pinning them hard against the mattress.

“Oh, no,” Caleb murmured, his voice like gravel, smug and knowing. “You’re gonna take it, Zayne,”  then he fucked into him, deep, hard, brutal. Zayne gritted his teeth, his whole body jerking with the force of it.

He’d forgotten what it was like—how Caleb took, how he claimed, how he pressed Zayne into the mattress and didn’t let up. Zayne was burning, overwhelmed, gasping through clenched teeth.

Caleb just kept pounding into him, rolling his hips with sharp, perfect precision, one hand still locking Zayne’s wrists down while the other wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with every thrust.

Zayne’s breath stuttered. His hips bucked helplessly into Caleb’s grip, caught between the push and pull of pleasure, nowhere to go, completely trapped.

Caleb’s forehead pressed against his, breath uneven, voice nothing but gravel.

“Come on, baby,” Caleb muttered, filthy, rough. “Come with me.”

Zayne let out a low, broken sound, his body tightening, coiling, trembling. Caleb’s knot swelled, locking them together, keeping him deep. Zayne snarled, body jerking, pleasure ripping through him like a live wire, blinding, unbearable. Caleb groaned against his mouth, spilling deep, marking him completely. Zayne’s head fell back, gasping, spent, owned.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. A small shift. A rustling sound. Zayne’s head snapped to the side. She was awake. Propped up on one elbow, watching them, eyes dark, lips curled into something lazy and knowing. Zayne went still.

Caleb, panting against his throat, still knotted inside him, let out a slow, rough chuckle.

“Well,” Caleb muttered, voice wrecked. “Good morning, sweetheart.” She didn’t look away.

Zayne could feel her gaze on him—dark, knowing, heavy with something he couldn’t name. His lungs still heaved, his body still trembled, still pinned beneath Caleb’s weight, still locked around his knot, still marked, still claimed.

And she had seen all of it.

Heat crawled up his spine, not embarrassment, not quite, but something else—something raw, something vulnerable, something that felt too big to fit in his chest.

Caleb, the bastard, only let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered against Zayne’s throat, voice still wrecked, thick with the last remnants of rut. “Didn’t think we’d have an audience.”

His breath was hot, teasing, his hands still pressing Zayne into the nest, his fingers still firm, still grounding. Zayne clenched his jaw. He felt vulnerable like this, opened up by Caleb’s cock and tied to him being bred in the only way he could be. She was still watching. Zayne turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze fully for the first time since realizing she was awake.

She wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t mocking. Her expression was lazy, slow, something unreadable sitting behind her half-lidded gaze. Her lips were curled just slightly, just enough, but it wasn’t amusement. She looked—comfortable.

Like this was natural. Like watching them was something she was allowed to do. Zayne swallowed, his throat dry, tight. His voice came out lower than intended, rough with something unsteady. “How long?”

She huffed a small breath, amused. “Long enough.” Zayne’s stomach twisted with something uncomfortable, he recognized it as fear though he was certain that Caleb felt the same way. For so long this had been real only for them. He hadn’t had to share this side of himself or Caleb with anyone.

Caleb’s fingers flexed against his wrists, and Zayne flicked his gaze back toward him, only to find those sharp violet eyes watching him closely. Caleb’s lips quirked. Something slow, something knowing. “You look like you just realized something important.”

Zayne exhaled sharply through his nose. Fucker.

Because yeah. He had. There was no fear in her gaze. No hesitation. No confusion. She knew exactly what she was looking at, what they were to each other, what they could be. She’d watched Caleb take him apart. Hadn’t looked away, hadn’t flinched, hadn’t run. And now she was here, still curled in their nest, still tangled up in their scents, still theirs.

Zayne swallowed hard. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, Caleb smirked.

She stretched slightly, slow, languid, satisfied then crawled towards them wanting to be closer to the heat of the nest which was undoubtedly these two. Then she tilted her head at him, something curious, teasing, just a little wicked.

“So,” she murmured, her voice still sleep-rough, still low, still drenched in heat and something thicker. “You gonna kiss me too, or what?”

Zayne forgot how to breathe as Caleb laughed. Low. Rough. Delighted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Caleb murmured, still knotted deep inside Zayne, grinning like the devil himself. “You have no idea what you just started.”

Three days later, the apartment felt different.

The thick, suffocating weight of heat and rut was gone, finally lifted. The air no longer reeked of desperation, of raw need, of pheromones clinging to every surface. The sheets had been washed, the windows cracked open for fresh air, and for the first time in days, the three of them weren’t tangled together in a nest of blankets and sweat-slick bodies.

But something lingered.

Something heavier.

She sat at the kitchen table, fingers curled around a mug of tea, her posture loose but tense at the same time. She was wearing a hoodie—one of Zayne’s, if the scent was anything to go by—but her bare legs were draped over Caleb’s lap, her body angled toward him instinctively.

Zayne stood at the counter, silent, watching.

Caleb was the one to break it.

“So,” he said, fingers tapping against her thigh, slow, absent, thoughtful. “Are we gonna talk about it?”

She exhaled softly, rolling her mug between her palms. “Yeah,” she murmured. “We should.”

Zayne finally moved, stepping forward, leaning against the table, arms crossed. “Alright,” he said, voice even. “Let’s talk.”

A beat of silence.

Then Caleb huffed out a slow breath. “Look. We all know this isn’t… standard.”

She arched a brow at him. “No shit.”

Caleb’s lips twitched, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes.

“We’re Alphas,” he continued. “And you’re an Omega. That alone is rare enough these days. But two Alphas bonding an Omega?” He shook his head slightly. “It’s not unheard of, but it’s not exactly easy, either.”

Zayne exhaled through his nose. “Because Alphas aren’t supposed to share.”

Caleb made a displeased sound. “Yeah, well. That’s bullshit.”

She finally looked up, her eyes steady, sharp. “Do you think we can?”

Caleb turned to her, tilting his head slightly. “What?”

“Share,” she said simply.

Zayne’s stomach tightened.

She wasn’t asking in a teasing way, or a playful way. She was looking at them both, expression serious, assessing, waiting.

Because this wasn’t just about them wanting her.

This was about them choosing her. Choosing each other.

Caleb exhaled, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her knee. “Yeah,” he said, quiet but firm. “I think we can.”

Zayne didn’t hesitate. “I know we can.”

She searched their faces for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. Zayne could see it in the way her shoulders relaxed, the way the tension in her spine eased. Not because the conversation was over. But because it was starting.

She shifted slightly, turning more fully toward them. “If we do this,” she said carefully, “it means all three of us. Not just me and one of you. Not just when it’s convenient.”

Caleb nodded. “Of course.”

She met Zayne’s gaze. “And you?”

Zayne held her stare, steady, unwavering. “You’re mine,” he said simply. “But Caleb is, too.”

Caleb blinked, his jaw tightening slightly.

Zayne didn’t back down. “I’m not gonna pretend we’re like every other bond out there. We’re not. But that doesn’t mean we don’t work.” He tilted his head slightly, gaze sharp. “Unless you want something different.”

Caleb scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t be a fucking idiot.” Zayne smirked slightly.

Caleb sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, though. This isn’t gonna be normal.”

Her voice was softer now. “Do you care?”

Caleb huffed out a quiet breath, shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t.”

Zayne glanced at her. “Do you?”

She stared down into her mug for a long moment.

Then she sighed. “I think…” She exhaled. “I think the world doesn’t like things it doesn’t understand.”

Zayne watched her carefully.

She looked up, gaze flicking between them. “But I don’t care about the world,” she murmured. “I care about you.”

Something in Zayne’s chest tightened, burned, settled.

Caleb hummed, pleased, satisfied. “Good answer, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, kicking his thigh lightly. “Shut up.”

Caleb chuckled, but then his expression shifted, turning serious again.

“Alright,” he said. “Then let’s talk logistics.”

Zayne lifted a brow. “Logistics?”

Caleb gestured vaguely. “Mating bonds. How we do it. When we do it. How we handle things after.”

She frowned slightly. “What do you mean, ‘handle things after’?”

Caleb met her gaze evenly. “We’re gonna bond you,” he said simply. “Both of us. That’s permanent.”

She nodded. “I know that.”

“Do you?” Caleb’s voice was quiet. “Because it means no backing out. It means our instincts will be locked onto you forever. It means if you get hurt, if you get sick, if something happens—we feel that. It means we’re all tied together for the rest of our fucking lives.” Zayne’s jaw tightened. Not because he disagreed but because it was true. She was silent. Then, slowly, she reached forward, wrapping her fingers around Caleb’s wrist.

“I know,” she said softly.

Caleb stilled. Her grip was firm, steady.

“I wouldn’t be here,” she murmured, “if I didn’t know.”

Caleb exhaled. Then he nodded. Once. Firm. Decisive. Zayne watched them both.

Then, quietly, he murmured, “Then it’s settled.”

[nexlynn]

Se-mi getting jealous over a guy talking to her and fucking reader with a strap roughly till the point that he heard it🙏

Se-mi x f!reader

Non squidgame!au

Smut

Warning: degradation, public sex?, spanking and maybe more?

That's not how the night was supposed to end, it started with a party between friends over at your house, and of course you had to invite your girlfriend.

And now, you end up over her lap, almost naked, only a bra and your soaked panties to cover you.

"I'm going to teach you, letting a guy flirting with you in front of me uh?"

You felt her rough hand slapping your butt, making you arche your back. As much as you love her sweet and soft behavior, there's something more about this side of her.

Her hand brushed against your panties, feeling your arousal through it, it's almost embarrassing how wet you are from only some spanking.

"You aren't supposed to enjoy it, it's supposed to be your lesson, and yet here you are, your cunt soaked wet already, aren't you a whore for me ?"

Se-mi's thumb rubbed against your core, and only a single moan came out of your mouth as an answer. She waited, and seeing you weren't going to answer, she gave you another rough spank.

"Answer."

You feels her hand rubbing your ass where she just spanks you, it hurts you so good.

"Yes Se-mi, y-your whore."

She scoffs and smirks, she knows she gots your wrapped around her finger in this kind of moment.

"Exaclty."

She throws you on your back on the bed, making you whine. Se-mi pulls your panties down, looks down at you and almost letting out a moan at the view ; you were laying, your legs wide open, lips parted apart and eyes almost close.

Se-mi bent over you before caressing your cheek. The gentle action made you surpised, but it felt good, everything that she does feels good.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good."

She whispers and lean down, kissing you, so softly, like she was scared to hurt you.

She pulls away and slide down her hands to your thighs, spreading them wider.

She looks up at you, making sure you were ready, even if she wants to fuck you hard, she wants to make sure her girl is okay with that.

"Am ready.."

You mumble, she didn't wait before thrusting her strap into your pussy, making you moan loudly, a smirk drawing on her face.

She pulled out before thrusting back in, making you moan louder.

"Take it"

She groaned, one of her hand gripping on your hip and the other sliding on your nipple, pinching it, trying to overstimulate you.

"Se-mi.." She bite her lips before pulling your legs up, trying to take you deeper.

"Louder, moan louder, make sure everyone know who you belong to"

You moaned, she was rough, and you love it.

Your hand reached down your clit, trying to touch yourself but you quickly felt her hand slaps yours. She wanted to make it hard for you.

Your moans started to get louder, now you were sure anyone in the next room could hear you, and the bed banging at the wall.

"Come on, cum on my cock, show me how good you are for me."

Her hand that was previously on your hip goes to your clit, rubbing it, now just trying to make her girl cum.

She sees you buckling your hips, and this time didn't stop you, letting you take her deeper.

"Se-mi! I'm-" You let a high pitched moan and soon enough you were cumming all over her strap.

She kept thrusting for a bit before pulling out, caressing your thigh before kissing your forehead.

"You did so good, as always."

She lays down next to you and take you in her arms as you rest your head on her chest.

"Next time maybe don't let some random guy flirting with you uh? Or do you want me to do that again ?"

An: Well there we go, i dont know if it's good or not I really hope it is, reminder that requests are open, principally writing for Se-mi and Sae-byeok

[pizzaapeteer]

lay all your love on me

Weee little blurb and moodboard for week 3, another little fluffy Mattheo but with more implied smut 🌙@thatdammchickennugget & @finalgirllx for jinxed July challenge 💛

An: if you can’t tell I was inspired by ABBAs lay all your love on me, as well as used the prompt night swims. No warnings but swearing and f x reader. Prettty divider by wrathofrats!

Moonlight streaks down on the empty beach, waves lulling soundly against the shore side, a perfect night as you dance around to the sounds of ABBA. Picked clearly by you with a drunk protest that enforced Mattheo little choice but to please you at this early hour. The alcohol flows through you as you spin so dramatically, your hair whipping, spraying specs of sea salt everywhere. 

You hum along to the words of Lay all your love on me, lowering yourself down and with a slow crawl; move towards him imitating the movie's scene. His eyes never leave you and your playful movements, taking a sip of his beverage, his eyes greedily roam over your body at the now exposing a view of your cleavage. 

Fuck, you’re a goddess. The things he wants to do to you right now. He’s never been so in love with you, and the goofy personality you bring out. At any and all times. For instance, it’s currently striking one AM and your energy seems to be in no way ready to disappear. He finds himself matching your fun loving smile as you stand up and grab his hand to dance with you. 

He’s never been much of a dancer or a fan of ABBA, but for you, well, that’s a different story. There were no lengths he wouldn’t go for you. He twirls you around, becoming infatuated by the way your smile grows bigger. 

The private beach feels so welcoming when he has you in his warm embrace, and he scoops you towards him, lifting you up. Eating up the sweet giggles that rapture out of you as your legs kick into the night sky. 

“Lets go in!” An excited idea spurs from your mouth the moment your feet land back on the ground. With a tug of his arm, you're already tempting to lead Mattheo to join you in your new determination adventure towards the dark sea. 

“Seriously, you want to go swimming now? It’ll be freezing!” He protests, his heels digging into the depths of the sand, creating sunken caverns trying to stop your surprisingly strong pull. 

“Come on Matty.. We have the whole beach to ourselves, we can do whatever we want.”

Any hesitancy drops at the cheeky grin you throw his way, and with the extra revelation of skin. He cocks a brow, his lips curling up into a smirk, “Oh we can do anything huh.”

The removal of your bikini top excites his interest further, but he's quick to pout when you cover your goods before he can see. Watching, you ran away with a giggle towards the water, drunkly struggling to rip off the remaining clothes before you reach it.

Following behind, he discards his own shirt and catches up at light speed, bounding on top he submerging the two of you together. The tension of calm water is broken with his childlike jump, and he’s met with the invigorating coldness that seeps into his core, his skin stinging like needles. 

The shock of the water's temperatures pulls a sudden gasp from him as he emerges, his arms wrapping around you seeking warmth. “Holy fucking shit! This was a terrible idea.”

There's a slight tremor in his complaint, his bottom lip beginning to quiver. The closeness of your bare chest pressing snuggly against him does little to provide him warmth. He’d forgotten how badly he handles cold, having been stupidly tempted by your alluring self. 

“Let me warm you up.” The needed heat he had been craving soon welcomes him with a passionate kiss captured by your lips and he engages eagerly. The two of your lips guide meshing together like so many times before, your kisses becoming more hectic, fusing into a feverous make out. 

He hisses in pain as you bite his slowly numbing lip, a low whine falling from his lips, granting you the moment to slide your tongue in, taking charge. He groans at your dominance even if your intoxicated behaviour mostly fueled it. His hands wrap, moving, feeling every contour and curve growing his excitement. Too much to the point, his dick throbs hard in the wrong kind of way. 

“Okay, I love this it extremely hot but I’m so fucking cold, I fear my dick's going to fall off.” He states pleading, knowing he wants to follow whatever you have in mind, while not losing any limbs to frostbite. 

An adorable snort makes him grin lovingly. He loves when he can make you laugh. He’s happy you‘ve agreed to exit the depths of the frozen ocean. He watches how you whimper, complaining about how your tits are going to fall off too, having lost the pleasant heat from him and your shirt.

He takes great pleasure in covering them with his large hands, grinning slyly as he repeats your earlier words. “It’s okay. I know a way to warm them up.” His heart is already glowing with its usual warmth as he prepares to lay all his love on you in an unforgettable way.

Masterlist

[actuallysaiyan]

Fiery Love(Kyojuro Rengoku x Fem!Reader)

warnings: fellatio/male receiving oral sex, dirty talk, morning head, slight somnophilia if you squint word count: 1k pairings: Kyojuro Rengoku x Fem!Reader a/n: Happy Birthday Kyojuro!!!

You roll over in bed, the sun beginning to shine through the drapes. The sleep you had last night was just perfect. When you look at the beautiful man lying next to you, you swear you’ve been blessed by the gods above. He is just so perfect. And to be able to spend the day with him, it was going to be so perfect as well. 

It was rare that you had a few days off with your Hashira boyfriend. He works crazy hard keeping everyone safe from demons. You never quite understood how he could go out and do such a dangerous and scary job, but you were more than grateful for him and his fellow Hashira. So when they told him he could take a few days off for his birthday, you were so excited. The two of you decided to go stay at the Rengoku estate.

While his father wasn’t the most welcoming, he allowed the two of you to stay for the few days that Kyojuro had off. Senjuro, Kyojuro’s brother, was so ecstatic to have his older brother be there with him. And he took to you like flies to honey. The first night, you and Kyojuro relaxed in the onsen and had a big feast. The next day, today, was supposed to be for relaxing completely. Kyojuro would be allowed to sleep in for once. Something he rarely did.

So when you saw that he was sleeping so peacefully, you almost couldn’t go on with your plan. But you decided it might be nice for him to wake up to such a nice surprise. Not only was it rare for the two of you to have any time to relax, but it was even more rare to have time for intimacy. So you knew that this day would be perfect for it.

You begin by slowly kissing his neck, and then you make a sloppy trail down his naked body. Kyojuro stirs slightly, but he doesn’t wake just yet. You want to take him into your mouth before he even gets hard, but you know that Kyojuro’s high sex drive might make that almost impossible. So you spread his thighs ever so gently, which earns you a soft moan from your fiery lover. Yet still he does not rouse from his sleep.

You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, moaning as you taste the beginnings of his precum. He tastes salty and musky, the perfect combination in your opinion. Slowly, as you take more of him into your mouth, you feel the half-hard cock become engorged with blood. A loud moan slips from his lips as he finally wakes up and looks down at you through hooded eyes.

“Oh my flower…” he groans sleepily. “Oh, my sweet lover…”

You love the way that he speaks to you, even while you two are intimate. You know there are times that he will be more rough, but he always tries to praise you and say the sweetest things and call you by the cutest pet names.

As he begins waking up even more, you begin a steady pace of bobbing your head up and down. Your saliva coats his throbbing cock, making it so slippery inside your already very wet and warm mouth. The moans that come out of Kyojuro’s mouth now are just downright erotic. You’ve never heard him sound so blissful in your life. You make note to do this to him again some other time you two have this kind of situation going on.

“Your mouth is…is so wet,” he moans as he begins tangling his fingers in your hair.

You look up at him through your lashes, making him grunt. He’s a sucker for the way you always look at him like he’s strung the stars in the sky. It’s just so beautiful to him to know that you adore him and admire him that much. Even while you’re sucking his cock, Kyojuro knows that you love him so much.

He begins pumping his hips a little desperately, not sure what to do anymore. He just knows that he needs more stimulation, and you’re more than happy to provide it to him. He loves how you’ll always do things to make him feel good, despite the fact that he can’t always return those things to you because of how busy and dangerous things get.

“Gonna make me cum, honey…”

You love the sound of his sleepy voice. It’s so deep and gravelly, but it’s also a little whiny in ways. You cannot deny that you are completely turned on and your cunt is just clenching around nothing as you continue to deepthroat your boyfriend. He’s panting and begging and moaning, all the while his hips keep bucking to get more and more stimulation from that pretty mouth of yours,

A few more swipes of your soft, velvety tongue on the underside of his cock and he’s falling off the edge. The loudest grunt rumbles through him as ropes of hot, thick cum begin coating your mouth and spilling down your throat. You swallow it all up, moaning pleasantly as you drink up everything he has to give you.

Finally, he releases you, and he smiles down at you as you continue to suck on his cock. He’s so sensitive, but he just can’t bring himself to pull you off his cock just yet. He loves watching you act like the cumslut you are. Your eyes are so full of love as you look up at him once more.

“Such a beautiful little cumslut for me,” he smirks as he says these words. Often whenever he says anything dirty, it really lights a fire of need deep in your belly.

You release him with a loud pop and give the head little kitten licks. Kyojuro wonders if he’s ever seen such a wonderful sight in his life and if he’ll ever see anything more beautiful in his life. Finally, you crawl on top of him and begin kissing him so passionately. He runs his fingers through your hair as he holds you so close.

“Happy birthday, my flame.”

[curtsycream]

Kunimi x tsukki x kenma x akaashi x little reader where she Regressed in babyspace and feels sick but cant tell them bc she's non verbal and want to be Held and even when she falls asleep and she feels when she get put down she wakes up and start crying 🥺🥺

(I used in the request the pronoun she her but u can use any pronoun u want)

Poly!Nope Squad x Regressed!Reader

Don’t mind me but this was a requested fic and I think that’s what motivates me most knowing someone is anticipating something on my behalf. But I did try my best because I’ve never ventured into babyspace but I do know someone who has. Also it’s fine I don’t mind writing for any gender or pronouns! It’s just gender neutral is mine own default for inclusivity

It was raining yet again for the fourth time this week in Tokyo. This wasn’t a new revelation as it was spring and heavy rainfall was expected. Sitting up in bed alone Y/N couldn’t help the frown from appearing on her warm face. Normally she would be the third one up behind Keiji and Kei. But today she was the last one which only happened when she pulled an all-nighter or if she was sick.

Rubbing her eyes harshly she let out a small cough with a disgruntled look on her face. This wasn’t a normal cold for her as she felt an added factor to the situation. Sitting in bed alone she felt fuzzy inside and from her watering eyes and quivering lip she knew she couldn’t fight it. Before she knew it she had regressed which wasn’t uncommon for her to do. Her life partners were aware of her regression but she had never regressed into baby space before.

She was lost as she sat in bed until the bedroom door opened and a rather calm Akira walked into the room. On days like this Akira didn’t have to go into work at Eleventh Bank. Something Akira enjoyed as he usually got to sleep in. “Baby…are you okay? You don’t look well..” he said in his usual monotone voice.

All she could do was look up at him with wide teary eyes and a quivering bottom lip. She couldn’t bring herself to speak she felt nonverbal which usually never happened when she was in little space. So instead she decided to raise her arms making grabby hands at him. Understanding fully what she was trying to get across Akira smiled softly at her before picking her up. When she was secure in his arms she hid her face against the side of his neck.

Akira with his arms around her body as he carried her out of the room had a puzzled look on his face. Though this wasn’t the first time he had picked her up this was the first time she was so quiet about it. They all knew how slightly talkative she was even in littlespace. But he picked up on something different she was warm to the touch and so quiet.

Making his way into the living room with her in his arms he looks at Kozume who is playing his switch. “Eh, what’s wrong with, kitten?” he asks Akira.

Akira could only shake his head, “I don’t know…I think she’s not feeling good. But I can’t tell because she isn’t talking.”

Kozume raised an eyebrow at his words before placing down his switch. Standing up from the couch he was slumped on he walks over to Akira and Y/N. Placing the back of his hand against her forehead he sighed, “I think she has a fever..”

Moving his hand to her cheek he smiles at her, “Hey kitten…are you not feeling good? You’re so warm..” he says gently. He could tell from her pout and glossy eyes that she had regressed. “Are you feeling little, kitten?”

She could only nod her head slowly with a pout as she looked at Kozume. Yet she didn’t say anything she still couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. Something in her head was preventing her from doing so.

Not even an hour later after they had bathed her, fed her, and read her a bedtime story she was asleep. The only issue was that she was asleep in Kozume’s arms. He didn’t want to leave her alone in the bedroom but he did have a scheduled stream soon. So against his own want to keep her close to him, he decided to lay her down in their bedroom.

Moments later Kei had gotten home wearing his training with the Sendai Frogs. He still had on his uniform as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth. Making his way past Akira who was cooking dinner in the kitchen, whom he greeted, he walked upstairs. When he made it upstairs he heard the sound of soft sobs and whimpers from their bedroom.

With a confused look on his face, he walked into the bedroom before spotting his princess curled up on the bed in tears. Walking over to her he shakes his head, “Don’t tell me you’re pouting…did Akira say no to sweets before dinner again?” He teased.

Yet his teasing words didn’t go over well with her as she only cried a little louder. Kei found this strange as he removed the blanket from her head. His eyes took in her swollen eyes from tears, her frown, and how she hadn’t spoken to him in return. “What’s wrong, Princess? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

She didn’t say a word all she did was crawl over to him on the bed. Her arms wrapped around his midsection as she let out noises of discomfort. Kei seemed to have caught on as he picked her up rocking her a bit. “You’re sick…do the others know? You’re so warm,” he coped out unintentionally.

She nuzzles her cheek against his cheek with a nod as she clings to his tall figure. “You’re awfully quiet today too…” Kei says as he grabs her chin with one hand. He stares into her eyes before shaking his head, “You seem to be in a deeper headspace than usual..feeling smaller?”

All she did was nod and confirm his words which Kei figured. He remembered Keiji speaking about how at times regressors can regress younger than they usually do. This normally happens when they are under more stress than they usually are. “You’re feeling like a baby?” He asked calmly.

Yet another nod as Kei thinks over what he remembers about baby space. This was unfamiliar territory for him as he had never seen his princess in a headspace younger than 5 or 6. “I’m guessing that’s why you’re not talking too…huh?”

He didn’t even need to see her nod, which she did, to know her being in baby space was the reason she was nonverbal. Kei only held her tight in his arms before leaving the bedroom, thoughts of changing long forgotten.

Later that day when Keiji had finally left his home office,which was in a secluded part of the house, he walked downstairs. He was amused to see Kei trying to put down a reluctant and crying Y/N. It seemed the last thing she wanted was to be put down for a nap even if she would be sleeping on the couch next to him.

“What’s going on here?” Keiji asked in his rather caring voice. As he did she perked up making grabby hands at him.

“She doesn’t want me to put her down even when I told her I’ll be right beside her. I think she regressed further than usual as she’s nonverbal right now. She also has a little fever but that has gone down a bit,” Kei said.

Keiji could see the the exhaustion on Kei’s face as he tried to get her to sleep. “Don’t worry Kei, do what you need…I’ll take care of her..” he assures.

Before Kei could protest or she could whine Keiji had already scooped her up in his arms. Sitting on the couch with her in his arms he presses kisses to her slightly warm skin. When he does a flurry of giggles leave her pouty lips. “Look at you dove causing such a fuss..” he said affectionately as Kei walked upstairs to shower and sleep.

After Kei went upstairs Keiji let out the couch so that he could lay down on it with his dove. Since it was a lazy body that could work as an oversized bed he grabbed a blanket off of the back of the couch.

“It’s okay dove..I’ll be here when you wake up..” Keiji cooed as he pressed kisses along her cheeks and nose. With his words of comfort, she did exactly that and fell asleep in his arms as they laid on the couch.

When she woke up hours later she felt better as her fever had gone down fully. Rubbing her eyes she still felt tired but she didn’t feel as small as she did before. Looking around she noticed it was still raining and the TV was playing an episode of Bluey.

Not only that but she noticed all four of her boyfriends asleep on the couch around her. She couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face as it seemed they wanted to keep her company.

“Kitten…why are you up? Go to sleep..” Kozume said from his position beside Akira. His eyes were partially open as he looked at her. With a nod, she listened before curling up between Kei and Keiji. This time she fell asleep with no issue knowing that regardless of what happened she would always have them there for her.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed anon! I think I’ll be writing a bit more but I don’t know. I recently started grad school and I’ve been occupied with that and settling into adulthood.

[wetandtiny]

Aftermath (1.5)

Approximately 1.5k words

part 1 · part 2

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intro

You were still shocked about the night before; on one hand you had THE best orgasm in your afterlife and on the other you felt like you fucked it up entirely by asking for something selfish that you thought he'd probably enjoy too.

You wanted so much more than a bite that night, but you were becoming obsessed with his teeth and consequently him biting you, clearly you would have been able to finish without that, but you didn't want it to be like all the other random hook ups you had in hell were it was boringly normal sex or completely deranged ones were angel had to save you before anything happened.

You were clearly obsessed with Alastor, no doubts about it and wanted him in more ways that you could imagine. It was gnawing on your insides, turning your stomach inside out. Your feelings were all over the place, but no doubt the strongest one still remaining was guilt.

-------------------------

**I started writing part 2 but have a hard time finishing it, so here's the ''in between'' part of it. no real smut in it more of like establishing habbits and relationship of reader with angel dust.

Go read part one if your haven't!

tags

minors DNI 18+ only

#fluff #angryreader #readerfeelbad #sadreader #angeldustisyourfirend #caringangeldust #bitemark #hurtreader #readerworkatthehotel #Y/N #sexpositivereader #receivingsubreader #subreader #needyreader #readerhasacrushonalastor #Freader #Odaxelagnia(reader)

-----------------------

You decided to stay in bed for the day, trying to tend to the puncture wound on your leg by yourself, not quite reaching all the marks on the back of your leg. You also tried not puking all over your bed from the distress it was causing you.

Fuck him and his help, this didn't help at all! It had all the opposite effect on you, now you were out of commission until your leg felt better. You knew you'd have healed faster and better if he gave you a smaller bite or he'd been more intelligent and dicked you down harshly instead of making you wish for more and ask for something stupid in return. It was like his stupidness was spreading to you.

A couple of hours passed, you were supposed to be downstairs and help with the daily tasks at the hotel but couldn't even walk! You didn't want to call for room service as you knew Alastor would most likely be the one answering the phone. You should at least tell someone about the predicament you were in. You were having a hard time trying to figure out what to do or who to tell, but your vibrated on your night stand.

-Hey buttercup! I didn't see you all morning, did you die or something? What happened to you?

-Well, I got hurt yesterday and can't get up from bed.

-What?  Didn't know you had a date yesterday.

-No, it was not a date.

-I need help with cleaning a wound, it's kind of in a place I can't reach if you have a minute.

-I'll be there in 10, pudding.

-Don't move.

You felt a small ripple of relief knowing you had a friend to help you. You crawled to your underwear drawer to get more presentable, you slipped on a pair of cheeky panties and a pyjama t-shirt. Moving your dirty clothes in a corner of the room at the same time.

Angel arrived in your room a couple minutes after and knocked on the door.

"I'ts angie."

"Come in."

He opened the door, entered your room with a bag on his shoulder and quietly closed it behind him.

"Woah! You look like shit toots, have you even slept at all? " He approached you and handed you a water bottle from his bag.

You looked at him with a strained smile while taking the bottle. You knew you probably had dark circles from the restless night you had. You washed up to the most of your ability and then went straight to bed, but tossing and turning all night were not the best ingredients for a relaxing night.

"Look I'm not going to lie to you Angel, I didn't. It was one of the shittiest nights I had since I started living here."

"Ok then, Let's see the ouchie, so you can catch up on your beauty sleep.’’

You removed the cover from your leg, trying not to rub it against the skin.

"Damn!... Who did that to you? Didn’t know you were into pain stuff" He asked surprised, while getting supplies out of his bag.

"I... "

You disregarded the last comment but you didn't know if it was best to tell him or not who it was, I mean yes he knew about all your other dates and the fact that you had a crush on Alastor, but you didn't know if Al would approve of you telling the whole story to someone.

"I don't know if I can tell you that Angie."

"…It’s someone I know isn’t it?" He said while opening a bottle of wound cleaner.

You looked at him and furrowed your brows slightly with a heavy sigh, not answering the question.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Please Angel I don't want to cause trouble."

"Ok ok" he laughed slightly "I won't push, but if you need help, I'm here." He said gesturing locking his mouth with a key and throwing it over his shoulder. He cleaned the front of the wound.

"This side's done, on your belly now."

You rolled the other way, letting him see your back side.

"Shit, he didn't miss you babe" he said while starting to clean it "I hope, at least, that they made you cum."

"Yeah… he did, angel I really wanna tell you everything but, it would give away who it is, so I'd rather keep it to myself, but it was soooo good…until the end"

"What? What happened, he made you cum didn't he?"

"I mean yeah, but he fucking ran away after that.'' You said motioning to your leg. ''It was just starting to get good; I am so pissed."

"Did he talk to you after that or..."

"No.. and I'm too scared to go talk to him"

"Well maybe he’s scared of something." He said while you hissed from pain.

"Sorry, you're really red." He said while whipping a puncture that was almost under your butt.

‘’Him? Scared? No fucking way.’’

"It happens to the best of use once in a while, I mean there’s a lot of things I didn’t want to do when I started doing porn. Heck there is still stuff even I don’t want to do.’’

‘’You sure you don't want to tell me who? I could go give him a pep talk or like advices."

You huffed "…Naah. But I promise, I'll tell you when I'm ready... or when I need some retribution of some kind. Hahhaaha"

You laughed together while he finished cleaning. Then you talked a bit about the new sex toys that came out this week and other things that happened during the week and eating some snacks he brought.

"Knowing how you heal; you should be fine in 2 or 3 days." He said before leaving.

"I'd you need anything else just text me. Ok?"

‘’Ok I’ll be sure to let you know! Thanks again, I’m glad you’re here.’’

------‐----------

You were tired from hurting and felt like shit. Your leg was healing fine, but still, it was taking a toll on you. You were still plagued from the flashback of that night, thorn between being turned on by what happened or feeling guilty about it.

But the thought of him was still too strong in your mind, he was hugging all of the space in it. His hands clawing at the fabric of reality that was still enveloping your waking state. Whispering in your brain sweet words that would make you so excited, you could still feel his hands on you and hear him moan between your legs leaving you with less willpower that necessary to battle against your guilt. You moved instinctively, fingers finding the unnecessary needy nub placed over your dripping core, your subconscious knew it was this time of the day again, where his sweet voice would echo in your brain. You needed to hear the sweet caress of his voice filling your ears.

You opened the radio on your phone, not even bothering to plug your headphones, only to hear sweet nothing, the gray noise feeling the vast silence in your room, breaking your lusty state and turning it into a feeling of loss and loneliness.

"Why?! Damn it!!" You yelled, feeling a sob crawling up your throat. "No! No fucking way he's ruining my sex life!" You dialed the number of the last guy who gave you an orgasm, excluding Alastor.

"Hey babe! How you doing?"

"No time to talk I need a cock inside me right NOW!"

"Oh shit! I umh...I can't right now, but I can come over tonight!"

"Damn it Felix! I feel like my head is going to burst. Leave it, I'll text someone else."

"Wait! Wait I'll come over just wait, I'll be here in 10."

"See you in 10."

You didn't care much about him, he was as vanilla as one could be, but at least he could help you get some steam off.

He arrived a bit later, asked you what happened to your leg. You answered him truthfully,

" Had some guy bite me, gave me the best orgasm ever, but gotta be honest with you, might be a bit much, I like being able to walk."

" Do you...want me to bite you while we have sex?"

"Hmm...I mean...would be nice! But please do it more softly."

He fucked you while spooning to make sure your leg wouldn't hurt too much. Taking small bites on your neck and shoulder, it felt more like nibbles not enough to pierce your skin, but enough to make marks. You kept telling him to bite harder, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you. You still finished, he still finished. Getting some release was alright but still, annoying, and boring.

You said thank you, he left. You felt a slight wave of relief. Finally, you could sleep. You cleaned, popped some pain relief pills and went off to bed.

-------------------------------

Go back to masterlist

[yooglefics]

Tʜᴇ Cᴀsᴜᴀʟ Tʏᴘᴇ ✦ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

❍ Meet the squad ・ Meet the regulars

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﹟( r ) ( f ) ( ☾ ) ( ✎ ) – yoongi x f!reader. AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. And fluff for cute friends. Summary: Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However, no one really expected things to end the way they did. ⎡ Reader is afab and is referred to as she/her. she has long black hair because for a sec this was going to be an oc hehe. ⎦

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[criticsstuff]

ALMOST MET (Series)

Gwendoline Christie x freader

Chapter: One

Words: 1185 (short chapter)

Warnings: none that I know of well except maybe fake sword fights.

Summary: Y/n gets a role in game of thrones season three and happens to catch a glimpse of Gwendoline Christie on set. Will they ever meet ?

Authors note: I will update as soon as you want more. Already wrote chapter two and three so don’t worry. It’s not impossible that I’m to lazy to reread sometimes, so don’t be alarmed if you find larger spelling mistakes. Enjoy <3 (hopefully)

—————————————————————

She stood just beyond the flurry of crew members, her boots crunching softly on gravel, her breath slightly quick from excitement and nerves. Her short brown hair was a little tousled from the breeze, curls fluttering around her cheeks, and her dark eyes darted from tent to tent, camera rig to costumed actor. Everything was new. Everything was enormous. And yet, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“Alright, Y/n?” a kind voice asked, brushing past her with a clipboard clutched tightly in hand. It was one of the production assistants — Nora, maybe? Or Natalie?

Y/n nodded quickly. “Yeah! I mean—yes. Just… taking it all in.”

The assistant smiled and didn’t press further, disappearing into the organized chaos of the set. Y/n smoothed her hands down her jacket and inhaled, steadying herself. This was her first day filming for Game of Thrones — she’d been cast as a new character in Season 3, a minor noblewoman with ties to one of the northern houses. Nothing groundbreaking, but enough screen time to be noticeable. Enough to mean something. And definitely enough to make her knees weak with anticipation.

She wandered slowly, letting her curiosity guide her. She passed groups of extras in furs and armor, their modern sneakers poking out from beneath chainmail until someone inevitably scolded them. She passed a catering tent where someone laughed too loudly, the sound rising above the soft hum of conversation. She paused at one of the trailers to peer at the name on the door: Lena Headey. Her stomach flipped — the Cersei Lannister — and she quickly kept walking, cheeks warm.

As she rounded a cluster of prop wagons, the sound of shouting caught her attention. Not angry shouting, but the kind of intense projection used in dramatic scenes. Instinctively, she stepped closer, drawn toward the energy.

In a field sectioned off by equipment and lighting rigs, a scene was unfolding. Two actors were in the thick of a heated exchange — swords out, voices sharp. One of them, a tall woman in armor, stood poised like a statue carved from marble and fury. Her blond hair was cropped close, shorter than Y/n’s own curls, and framed her chiseled features with sharp elegance. She was captivating.

Gwendoline Christie.

Even from where she stood, Y/n could feel the strength of her presence. She radiated confidence, every movement controlled yet powerful. Her voice carried easily across the field, and not just because of volume — there was something magnetic about it, something that made people turn their heads.

Y/n didn’t realize she was holding her breath until the other actor lunged, and Gwendoline blocked the blow with effortless grace. It wasn’t a real fight, of course, but the choreography was so clean it might as well have been. Y/n found herself leaning slightly forward, hands curled in the sleeves of her jacket, a little starstruck. She’d seen Gwendoline on screen before, of course, but nothing compared to seeing her in the flesh — the raw intensity of her performance, the way she occupied space without demanding it.

As the scene neared its end, the director — a stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bright scarf wrapped around his neck — caught sight of Y/n out of the corner of his eye. He turned away from the monitor, beaming.

“There you are! Y/n, come here a sec!” he called, waving her over.

Y/n startled, blinking as if waking from a dream. She gave an awkward, apologetic smile and quickly made her way toward him, boots crunching softly against the grass.

From the field, Gwendoline’s gaze flicked up just in time to see a petite woman with short, dark waves disappearing behind the tents with the director. She tilted her head slightly, catching only the edges of a smile before it vanished from view.

“Who was that?” she murmured, mostly to herself. The scene was called to a cut, but Gwendoline remained still for a moment, eyes narrowing thoughtfully at the space where the newcomer had stood. Then she shook herself, laughing a little under her breath. “Curious,” she said to no one in particular, and moved to reset for another take.

Meanwhile, Y/n followed the director toward a smaller tent set up beside one of the equipment trailers. The air inside was warmer, thick with the scent of coffee and freshly printed scripts.

“Sorry to pull you away like that,” the director said, offering her a seat. “Just wanted to touch base before we get into blocking tomorrow. You settling in okay?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you,” Y/n said quickly, sitting with her hands folded in her lap. “Everyone’s been really nice. It’s… a lot, but in a good way.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, flipping through a folder. “You’ve got some good scenes coming up — we wanted someone with expressive eyes and a kind presence. You nailed the audition, by the way.”

Y/n blushed, lowering her gaze with a shy smile. “That means a lot. I really love this world.”

He grinned. “Well, you’re a part of it now. You’ll be in scenes with Robb Stark’s crowd, mostly, but we might have you cross paths with Brienne later in the season. Gwendoline, that is.”

Her ears perked up at the name. “Oh, she’s incredible,” she murmured before she could stop herself. “I, um… I saw her filming earlier. She’s just—wow.”

The director chuckled. “Yeah, she’s something else. Kind as hell, too. You’ll like her.”

Y/n nodded, but a flicker of nervousness danced in her chest. She wasn’t used to sharing space with people so… commanding. And yet, something about Gwendoline’s presence didn’t feel intimidating, exactly. More like… intriguing.

“Anyway,” the director continued, pushing the folder toward her, “here’s your shooting schedule for the next few days. Nothing too early, and we’ll get you into costume this afternoon for a quick fitting.”

Y/n took the folder, her fingers brushing the worn edges. “Thanks,” she said softly.

As she stepped out of the tent a few minutes later, the clouds had shifted. The sun peeked through, casting a warm halo of light over the fields and tents. In the distance, a tall silhouette with armor and golden hair caught her eye before vanishing around the corner.

Y/n stood still for a moment, heart ticking a little faster.

And somewhere nearby, Gwendoline Christie was asking a crew member, “Do you know who that new girl is?”

Neither of them knew it yet, but the first spark had already flickered to life.

<<To be continued>>

[buckyalpine]

I will elaborate on this but imagine MobBucky has to kidnap you for whatever reason, ransom, to send a message, insert your preference here and he has you tied up in some room of his house. It’s all fine until he hears the scraping of the chair moving against the floor so he, Steve and Sam go over to make sure you’re not trying to escape.

He the closer he gets, the louder the scraping is, he bursts through the door.

“You better not try to lea-what-what the hell are you doing-

You momentarily stop your scooting to look and him and then back at your destination, only to start all over again. You were so close, you didn’t care if your hands were bound, you’d find a way-

“What’s she doing in there” Steve questioned, seeing Bucky run an exasperated hand over his face.

“She’s trying to pet the cat”

“What?”

Bucky stared at you as you finally reached where his very white, very spoiled fur baby was perched. He was so sure she’d try and swat at you, at the very least hiss, after all, she was as picky and grumpy as her daddy-

“Merp” she hopped down to nuzzle against your leg, bumping her head against you with a happy purr. “Meow-

“Alright, that’s enough, Alpine get over here”

The sassy feline gave him a hard stare before reluctantly pulling away and sauntering over, batting his leg before trotting off. He was supposed to be the leader of his gang and meanwhile his hostage was trying to pet his cat who just scolded him after being told to leave.

“Well thanks for that” You gave him an annoyed huff, obnoxiously scooting back to where the chair originally was.

“Brat” Bucky mumbled his breath, biting back the smile that almost made its way to his face.

Almost.

[iraot]

Did You Even Think | s.r

pairing steve rogers x small!reader word count 4,277 a/n gif credit - this  fic did not come to me in one go like my original a/n said, in fact it sat in my drafts since 2022. :) yeah so here you go - its finished. I might have missed a few tags but its all pretty basic stuff. :3 Hope you enjoy. warnings angst, dom/sub dynamics, 1st time in relationship, innocence kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), domestic kink, hair pulling, 18+ only, size kink, age gap

She and Steve had been together for just over four months now, and though their relationship was solid in many ways, a gnawing doubt had started to creep into her mind. Sweet kisses, lingering touches, the warmth of his hand resting at the small of her back—these were all constants. But the moment things threatened to turn into something more, something deeper, he pulled away. Not harshly, not with rejection in his eyes, but with a quiet, almost reverent hesitation that left her feeling unspoken words pressing between them like a wall.

They’d talked about a lot since the battle with Thanos—what they wanted out of life now that the fighting was done. When Steve returned the Stones and finally let the weight of the shield slip from his grasp, he told her he was ready for something real. A normal life. A simple life. He’d grown out his beard again, rough and golden in the sunlight, because Captain America had been clean-shaven, and Steve Rogers wanted to be anything but him now. The mantle belonged to Sam Wilson, and Steve had no interest in reclaiming it. The idea of picking up the shield again felt wrong when all he wanted was apple-pie Sundays and lazy mornings tangled in sheets.

So why did it feel like he was still holding back?

She thought about the night before, how his kisses had deepened, how she had pressed herself against him, fingers curling into the fabric of his Henley, heart hammering with the silent question—Will you stay? Maybe this would finally be the moment he let go. Maybe he’d touch her the way she ached to be touched. But instead, he stiffened, pulled back, and then practically leapt off the couch like it had burned him.

"I—I gotta go," he stammered, pressing a final kiss to her forehead before grabbing his jacket.

She barely had time to process it before the door clicked shut behind him.

Now, hours later, the rational part of her told her there had to be a reason. Maybe something was weighing on him. Maybe he was struggling with the idea of moving forward. Maybe—maybe. But the darker voice in her mind whispered crueler thoughts: He doesn’t want you. Not like that. He never will.

She busied herself at the lab, preparing tools for Bucky’s usual tune-up. The Winter Soldier—no, Bucky Barnes, as he liked to remind people now—strode in, rolling his shoulder like the vibranium arm had a crick in it.

"Alright," he said, narrowing his eyes at her silence. "What’s going on?"

She glanced up at him. Bucky wasn’t one to dance around things. He was blunt, cutting, and she should’ve known he’d pick up on the fact that she wasn’t her usual self.

"It’s nothing," she mumbled, adjusting the wrench in her hands. "Just… stupid."

Bucky snorted. "Bullshit. Talk to me." He plopped down in his usual seat, watching her with the same sharp stare that had once made HYDRA operatives piss themselves.

She exhaled through her nose, then finally admitted, "I think Steve’s going to end things."

Bucky’s expression didn’t shift at first, but then his brows pinched together, his mouth pulling into something between confusion and annoyance. "The hell are you talking about? He doesn’t shut up about you."

That made her pause. "What?"

Bucky leaned forward, resting his metal arm on his knee. "You kidding? Every time we get together, it’s ‘She said this funny thing at dinner’ or ‘You should’ve seen the way she kicked my ass at chess’ or ‘Do you think she’d like this book?’ If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re the only thing running through that punk’s head."

Her throat tightened, her fingers gripping the wrench harder. "Then why does he act like I’m radioactive? Why does he barely stay for an hour when we have date night? Last night, I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before he bolted, mumbling something about paperwork."

Bucky shook his head, clearly baffled. "That doesn’t make sense."

"Tell me about it," she muttered.

He stared at her for a moment, then pulled out his phone. "Text him."

She blinked. "What?"

"Ask him to lunch," Bucky said, already tapping away at his own screen.

She knew what this was. She’d done the same thing before with a friend who thought their boyfriend was dodging them. If Steve replied to Bucky and not her, well… that would tell her all she needed to know.

"Bucky..."

"Just do it." His tone was firm. "If he ignores you and texts me back, I swear to God, I’ll rip him a new one."

She sighed, but her fingers moved before she could stop them. Hey, want to grab lunch today?

A minute later, Bucky sent his own message.

They waited.

Her message sat, cold and blue. Read. No reply.

Bucky’s phone buzzed immediately. He turned the screen toward her, and her stomach twisted.

Steve: Sure. The lobby’s got a great menu.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Oh, that motherf—"

She looked away, swallowing hard, ignoring the sting behind her eyes. Maybe she really had been fooling herself. Maybe Captain America had saved the world, but Steve Rogers didn’t have the courage to love her back.

Her bottom lip trembled, and she sniffed, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes before the tears could fully fall. This was it her worst fear staring her in the face. If Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers, couldn’t want her, then who the hell could?

“Hey...” Bucky’s voice was softer than usual, a rare gentleness lacing the edges as he pulled her into his arms, rubbing slow circles along her back. “None of that, alright? I’ll talk to him… we’ll straighten this out.”

“And if..”

“If he wants to end things,” Bucky cut in, “then we’ll figure that out too. But I gotta hear his side before I knock some sense into his star-spangled ass.”

His dry humor forced a snicker out of her despite everything, and she wiped at her eyes, nodding.

She motioned toward his arm, and he let her go so she could get to work. But her mind was elsewhere—dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. This could be the end of her relationship, and her career in one fell swoop. If Steve broke it off, what then? The Avengers Compound wasn’t exactly known for its clean breakups. Would she have to pack up her desk? Start over somewhere else, if she could even find a job in her field again?

The rest of the day crawled by in a haze. No word from Bucky. Nothing from Steve. The old saying—"No news is good news"—didn’t cut it today. It never had.

By the time she packed up for the night, she had checked her phone so many times that the ghost of the screen lingered behind her eyelids. Still no texts. Still left on read. Even from Bucky.

Her heart pounded as she stepped inside her apartment, tossing her keys onto the counter. The silence was thick, oppressive. She scrubbed a hand down her face, exhaling.

“Took you longer than usual.”

Steve’s voice.

She yelped, spinning on instinct, hand flying to her chest as her heart tried to beat its way out of her ribs. “Jesus, Steve! What the hell?!”

Her pulse hammered, anger rising to mask the anxiety. He knew she hated being startled. If he wanted to talk, he could’ve waited with the damn lights on, or sat on the couch like a normal person instead of lurking in the dark like some super-soldier cryptid.

He turned the lamp on, and for the first time, she saw the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed like he was barely keeping himself together. Good. Let him squirm. He was the one who had been avoiding her, not the other way around.

“Bucky talked to me today,” he started, voice level but heavy. “Said you seemed really upset. You wanna tell me why?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she hung up her purse. “Oh, don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose but stayed silent, watching her. She hated that unreadable expression, the one that made her feel like she was talking to a wall.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she continued, voice rising with every word. “And not just today. Not just this morning when you completely ignored my text. This has been happening for weeks. You ignore me, you leave in a rush like you can’t stand to be near me, and you never stay longer than you have to.”

Steve nodded as she spoke, like he was absorbing her words, but she wasn’t sure if he was actually listening or just waiting for her to get it all out.

Her throat was tight now, but she pushed through. “So if you’re gonna end things, just do it. I don’t like waiting in limbo. I don’t like sitting here, wondering what I did wrong, what I did to make you pull away. I hate this, Steve.”

He exhaled, rubbing at his beard. His silence stretched between them like a chasm before he finally spoke.

“I was doing what was best for you.” His voice was rough. “If… if you knew the things I think about you, you’d want me gone.”

Something in her stomach twisted. 

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Do you even realize what you do to me?” His voice was low now, raw. His hands flexed at his sides, like he was restraining himself. “I haven’t been able to think straight for days. Can’t eat. Can’t focus. I sure as hell can’t sit across from you at lunch when all I can think about is you on your knees—”

He stopped himself with a grunt, rubbing a hand down his face like the thought physically hurt him.

Her breath hitched. That… definitely wasn’t where she thought this was going.

“You what?” she whispered.

Steve took a step forward, and instinct had her stepping back until her spine met the wall behind her. His eyes were dark now, sharp with determination. There was something else in them too, something that made heat pool between her thighs before he even touched her.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you,” he admitted, voice low and thick with restraint. “But I knew if I didn’t leave when I did… I’d ruin you, sweetheart.”

A shiver rolled down her spine. She clenched her thighs, pulse hammering. 

“How?”

His nostrils flared, and then he was on her.

His hand slid up her cheek, fingers curling against the side of her neck, tilting her face up to meet his. Then his lips crashed against hers hard, messy, all teeth and heat and barely-contained desperation.

She gasped into his mouth, hands fisting into his shirt. He didn’t hesitate grabbing the hem, yanking it over his head, and tossing it to the floor like it was offending him.

“This is the last time,” he murmured against her throat, his voice a gravel rasp. 

“After this…” His teeth grazed the sensitive skin beneath her ear, making her whimper. “…you’re mine.”

The words sent molten heat flooding through her, soaking her panties before she could stop it.

“Steve, please..”

He lifted her like she weighed nothing, pressing her into the wall as his hands palmed her ass, squeezing hard enough to make her moan.

She barely registered him moving before she landed in the middle of the bed, breathless.

Steve stood at the foot of it, eyes dark, his gaze dragging over her like he could see straight through her clothes.

“Jesus,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Oh, she had a damn good idea.

Steve was breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling as he looked at her sprawled out on the bed—her hair wild, her chest heaving, lips swollen from his kiss.

"Take this off," he ordered, voice hoarse, fingers twitching at his sides.

She swallowed hard, hands fumbling at the hem of her shirt. Steve didn’t move as she pulled it over her head, exposing bare skin to the cool air. She had barely tossed it aside before he was on her again, pinning her to the mattress with his weight.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he muttered, his hands sliding up her body, mapping her like he needed to memorize every inch. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

Her breath hitched as his mouth descended on her throat, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her pulse. She arched into him, pressing her body against his, feeling the heat of his skin and the hard planes of muscle beneath it.

"Then why did you keep pulling away?" she whispered, fingers threading through his hair, nails raking against his scalp.

Steve groaned, his teeth grazing her collarbone before he pulled back to meet her gaze. His pupils were blown, his expression wrecked with barely-contained hunger.

"Because I knew," he admitted, his hand sliding down, fingers tracing the band of her leggings before slipping beneath it. "Knew if I let myself have you, I wouldn't stop."

She gasped as his fingers brushed over her soaked panties, his touch feather-light, teasing.

"And now?" she asked breathlessly, barely able to form words as he pressed his palm against her, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm.

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes darkening further.

"Now," he murmured, voice rough with conviction, "I don’t give a damn."

His patience snapped like a frayed wire. In one swift movement, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and yanked them down, dragging her panties with them. She barely had time to process before he settled between her thighs, his broad hands gripping her hips to keep her still.

"Goddamn," he rasped, eyes locked on her as if he’d never seen anything so devastating in his life. "You’re perfect."

Heat flooded her cheeks, but she barely had time to be embarrassed before his mouth was on her, tongue sliding between her folds in a slow, deliberate stroke that sent shockwaves through her entire body.

She cried out, fingers tangling in his hair as he groaned against her, like he was the one being undone.

"You taste like heaven," he muttered against her, voice muffled, lips dragging over her in a way that had her hips bucking against his mouth. "Better than I ever let myself imagine."

She moaned his name, thighs trembling against his shoulders as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue flicking over her with devastating precision. Her body was burning, heat pooling deep in her belly, pressure building too fast.

"Steve," she gasped.

His grip tightened on her hips, keeping her firmly against his mouth. "Let go, sweetheart," he ordered, voice rough. "Give it to me."

Her body obeyed before her mind did white-hot pleasure crashing over her as she shattered beneath him, her back arching, her cries muffled by her own gasping breaths.

Steve groaned as she came against his tongue, lapping her up like he needed it, like he was starving.

When she finally slumped against the mattress, boneless, he pressed one last lingering kiss against her thigh before pulling himself up, his lips shining with the evidence of what he’d done.

His expression was wrecked, his jaw tight with restraint, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

"I meant what I said." He leaned down, caging her beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress. "You’re mine now."

Her breath hitched, a fresh wave of heat rolling through her at the sheer certainty in his tone.

"Then show me," she whispered.

Steve groaned, dragging her into another bruising kiss as he reached down, undoing his belt with one hand. Steve’s belt hit the floor with a dull thud, and she barely had time to breathe before he was over her again, his weight pinning her down, his mouth consuming hers with a hunger that felt like it had been caged for years.

Her fingers scrambled against his back, tracing over thick muscle as he settled between her thighs, his clothed hardness pressing against her slick heat. He was big—she could feel it even through the fabric of his jeans, the pressure sending a thrill up her spine.

His lips ghosted over her jaw, down her neck, his breath hot as he growled, "You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

There was something feral in his eyes—something dark and starved. Possession.

Her breath hitched as he dragged his free hand down her stomach, his fingertips barely grazing her overly-sensitive skin before dipping between her thighs. She was soaked, and Steve felt it.

"Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenching as his fingers slid through her wetness, teasing, testing. "You were made for me, weren’t you?"

She whimpered, bucking against his touch, desperate for more, but he didn’t give it to her—not yet. His fingers moved slowly, deliberate, just barely dipping inside before retreating, smearing her arousal over her swollen clit.

"Steve," she gasped, frustration lacing her voice as she tried to move her hips, but his other hand pressed firmly against her stomach, holding her down.

"Be patient, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to her jaw. "I wanna take my time with you."

A whimper left her lips as he dipped his head, trailing hot kisses down her throat, his mouth searing against her flushed skin. He was moving like a man determined to devour her, to imprint himself into every inch of her body.

"Tell me you want this," he rasped, his voice shaking with restraint, like he was this close to snapping.

She shivered beneath him, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled him closer. "I want this. I want you."

Something inside him snapped.

He kissed her like he was starving, teeth clashing against hers, tongue sliding deep as he ground his hips into her, letting her feel just how hard he was. His hands were everywhere palming her breasts, gripping her hips, holding her like she was something he was afraid to lose.

Then, suddenly, he was gone sitting back on his knees, undoing his jeans with one hand, yanking the zipper down with a rough jerk.

Her mouth went dry as he freed himself, his cock thick and aching, flushed red at the tip, already leaking precum.

Steve caught the way her eyes widened, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "You can take it," he murmured, dragging his length over her slit, coating himself in her slickness. "I’ll make sure you do."

She barely had time to brace herself before he pushed in, just the tip, stretching her impossibly slow, letting her feel every inch as her body opened for him.

"Jesus Christ," Steve groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he fought to keep himself from slamming into her all at once. "So fucking tight, sweetheart, squeezing me like you don’t wanna let go."

She whimpered, nails raking down his back as she felt him stretching her inch by inch, every thick, pulsing inch sinking deeper until he bottomed out, buried to the hilt.

Her head fell back against the pillows, lips parted in a soundless moan as she struggled to breathe. "Steve..."

His mouth was on hers instantly, swallowing her gasps as he stilled, his body shaking from the effort. "Look at me," he demanded, voice barely more than a growl.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, her vision blurred with heat, with pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain.

"You feel that?" he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath ragged. "You were made for me, baby,” then he moved.

A slow, torturous drag before slamming back in, setting a rhythm that was devastatingly deep, rough, and possessive.

She cried out, her body jolting with every thrust, the pleasure so intense it bordered on unbearable.

Steve groaned, burying his face in her neck, his breath ragged. "Mine," he growled against her skin, punctuating the word with another sharp thrust. "Say it."

"Yours," she gasped, nails clawing at his shoulders. "I’m yours."

A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest, and then he was gone, lost in her, lost in the pleasure, lost in the feel of her wrapped around him, squeezing him like she never wanted to let go.

Her body was fire, nerves ablaze, every single inch of her consumed by him, the overwhelming stretch, the unrelenting force of his thrusts, the deep, possessive way he took her, like she was something he had finally allowed himself to have.

She could barely breathe, barely think. The only thing that existed was the way Steve filled her, the deep, ragged sounds that escaped his throat, the desperate way his hands held onto her like he thought she might disappear.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, his voice wrecked, his body trembling with restraint. "Sweetheart, I can't…not gonna last!"

His words sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through her. "Don’t stop," she whimpered, nails dragging down his back, leaving marks he wouldn’t feel but she knew he’d wear like a brand. "Steve!”

That was all it took.

He snapped.

His grip on her hips tightened, and suddenly, he was driving into her, rougher, deeper, the rhythm frantic, almost desperate. Each thrust sent pleasure shattering through her, wrecking her, his body pressing into hers, so close yet somehow not close enough.

She was right there, right on the edge, her entire body coiling.

"Come for me," Steve ordered, his voice barely human, his forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot and ragged. "*I need you to come, sweetheart." he cursed.

Her body obeyed before her mind did.

The orgasm tore through her like a shockwave, her vision whiting out as she screamed his name, body convulsing around him, gripping him like she never wanted to let go.

Steve choked out a curse, his rhythm faltering as he felt her clench around him, pulling him deeper, sending him straight to the edge. His breath stuttered, his entire body shuddering as he slammed into her one final time, spilling deep inside her with a low, wrecked groan.

He froze, buried inside her to the hilt, his entire body shaking, a deep, guttural moan rumbling in his chest as he emptied himself completely, filling her so full it left her dizzy.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Their bodies were tangled, breath mingling, skin slick with sweat, the only sound in the room the rapid, erratic pounding of their hearts.

Then, slowly, Steve slumped forward, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath still uneven, his arms trembling as he caged her beneath him.

"Jesus," he whispered, voice wrecked, like he’d just been ruined.

She let out a shaky breath, hands sliding up to thread into his damp hair. "Yeah," she murmured weakly. "Jesus."

Steve exhaled a breathless chuckle, then—very carefully—pulled out of her, shifting to the side, immediately pulling her into his arms.

For a while, neither of them spoke. He just held her, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles along her spine, his lips brushing the top of her head.

But then, he sighed. A deep, heavy breath that made his chest rise beneath her cheek.

"I’m sorry," he murmured.

She blinked, tilting her head up to look at him. "For what?"

Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "For being an asshole," he admitted, his voice dripping with regret. "For making you think I didn’t want you."

Her stomach twisted at the way his voice softened, at the sheer remorse in it. "I did," she confessed quietly. "I really thought you-"

"I know," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair, his grip tightening around her. "I hate that I made you feel that way."

She shifted in his arms, pressing a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump-thump-thump of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. "Then why did you pull away?"

Steve inhaled sharply, his fingers stilling on her back.

For a moment, she thought he might not answer.

"Because I was scared," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Scared I’d ruin this. Scared I’d ruin you."

Her breath hitched. "Steve-"

He shook his head, tilting her chin up so he could look her in the eye. "I’ve spent my whole life fighting, being a soldier, being ‘Captain America,’ being whatever the world needed me to be. But with you…" He exhaled sharply, his expression raw. "With you, I don’t have to be anything other than just…me."

Her heart clenched. "And you thought that wasn’t enough?"

Steve’s jaw tensed, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "I thought if I let myself have you, I’d lose control. I thought I’d need you too much." He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Turns out I was right."

She swallowed hard, fingers threading through his. "I don’t mind."

He gave her a look. "Sweetheart, I just fucked you so hard I nearly broke the bed."

She snorted, cheeks flushing, but didn’t look away. "I still don’t mind."

Steve groaned, pulling her against his chest, burying his face in her hair. "God help me," he muttered. "I’m never letting you go."

She smiled, her lips pressing against his bare shoulder. "Good." Steve Rogers finally allowed himself the one thing he had denied for too long, peace.

Because she was his and he was never letting her go.

[nexlynn]

Se-mi nsfw alphabet

Warning : Pure smut

A- Aftercare

I feel like she would be very tired after sex so she wouldn't be much in aftercare, she of course check on you making sure you aren't hurt anywhere. If you suggest a bath she would most likely says yes but there's chance she fall asleep in the bath.

And if you ask for water, food or anything else, she'll bring it to you in a second.

B- Body parts

Her favourite part of you would be your boobs, she'll 100% worship your chest, sucking on your tits and falling asleep on them right after.

On her, I think it would be her fingers? More like she knows how much you love them, how she could make you cum in a minutes with them.

C- Cum

She loves making you come on her fingers, the confidence she get when she hasn't even done anything but rubbing your clit with her fingers.

Will probably suck on her fingers after you came on them.

D- Dirty secret

She got a folder of you in her gallery and she loves to masturbate looking at them, if she's really into it she'd even moan your name.

E- Experience

She's experienced for sure, you can't look at me in the eyes and tell me she doesn't know how to please a girl.

Will be willing to teach everything she knows to you.

F- Favorite position

To be honest i don't think Se-mi would be that picky, as long as he got to pleasure you well any position is fine.

G- Goofy.

It depends, if she's teasing you she will definitely let out some chuckles, laughing at how you would be begging her to touch you.

But if it's more a romantic moment, she wouldn't laugh at all, she'd be very serious and attentive.

H- Hair

I don't think she usually shave a lot, but when she's having sex a lot, she would shave maybe 2-3 times a month?

I- Intimacy

As I said before, it kinda depends what kind of sex you two have, but yeah she would definitely be attentive to you.

J- Jack off

Maybe 1 or 2 times a week ? Not that much since she gots you.

K- Kink

She loves degrading and praising you for sure.

Would love to try public sex too but she would be shy to asks.

L- Location

As long as you enjoy it, she's willing to do it everywhere, but i kinda think she loves to fuck on the kitchen counter or maybe sink?

M- Motivation

As i said, she loves your boobs, so if you wear a shirt where they show it would problem turn her on.

Maybe you sitting on her lap too?

N- No

Anything that would hurt you or make you uncomfortable, she always asks if you're okay with anything she does.

O- Oral

She both loves giving and receiving but maybe she'll like receiving more.

P- Pace

She's really into fast and rough sex, but if you ask her to slow down or to be gentle, you wouldn't hear a signle complain from her.

Q- Quickie

She LOVES it, whether it's when you both go out and she gets needy, she'll pull you in any bathroom.

Or when you have to go out and don't have too much time, Se-mi loves quickies

R- Risk

Like i said, she would love to try public sex, like having someone at home and fucking you in the next room, or touching you under the table at the restaurant.

S- Stanima

She for sure got a great stanima, tbh she won't stop until YOU want to stop, she can last for as long as you want.

T- Toys

I don't think she owns a lot.

Own a strap of course, and maybe a vibrator, but she doesn't use it on her, only on you.

U- Unfair

She's into teasing for sure, she loves watching your teary eyes begging for her to give you anything. Could tease you for hours because she loves it but doesn't, still gotta satisfy her girl.

V- Volume

I don't think she would be that loud, maybe she would moan into your ear to turn you on.

But if you top her once, she wouldn't shut her mouth.

W- Wildcard

Sometimes when you both are laying down and she's the big spoon, she likes to grind against your ass and if you ask her she would says she's just snuggling.

Y- Yearning

High, she simply always need you, if you're around her there's 50% she wants to fuck you or make out with you, the other 50 is cuddling you.

Z- Zzz

Fall asleep withing 10 minutes, she gets so tired after sex.

An : i hope there's no typos, i will do Sae-byeok next