#shakes with barely contained feralness

[houseofaegon]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE write jealous bob reynolds

Too Fucking Close ✩ Void!Bob Reynolds

Pairings: Void!Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolt!Reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. use of y/n, fem!reader, dubious consent (void's possession), rough sex, dominance, power play, bob aware during void's control, jealous!void, jealous!bob, possessivenes, emotional aftermath, guilt, dark themes, slight fluff at the end.

Summary: The press tour was hell. Cameras, fans, and a predatory interviewer who got far too handsy—all under the watchful, simmering gaze of Bob Reynolds. You played the part. You smiled. But someone else was watching, someone darker. Void had been caged inside Bob for too long, feeding off his jealousy, his longing, his failure to act. But tonight, he took control—and he wasn’t gentle. He claimed you with feral need, fueled by everything Bob had denied himself. When Bob returned—shaking, terrified of what Void had done—you grounded him. You reminded him it wasn’t just Void you wanted. It was him. All of him.

Author's Note: i need void. need him biblically to destroy me physically, mentally, emotionally, all of the above. he's so he's so he's so arrrrggghhhh smash. double smash. completely sober. take me. take me. oblitaterate me!!!!!!! thank you for the ask!! I'm actually so overwhelmed with the love and support my last bob fics have been receiving and the amount of requests I'm getting, I promise I will be getting to them and writing them as soon as possible!! I've got more fics coming up from your requests and some other's I've been drafting <3 I hope yall like this. feel free to scream in the comments or tags! <3

The press tour had been a whirlwind and fucking exhausting—bright flashing lights, high tensions, shouts from fans, and the sharp bite of too many eyes on you. You'd done this dance before. You'd gotten good at it by now, but something about this one was off. Maybe it was the number of cameras and eyes on all of you. Or the nerves. Maybe it was the interviewer—slick smile, too much cologne, handsy in a way that wasn’t subtle.

His jokes were lame. His touch, constant. Always hovering close. His hand kept brushing your knee, his smile widening every time you tried to politely shift away. Cameras were rolling. You had to keep it together. You couldn’t risk a scene—not with Valentina’s knife-edge patience and a multi-million-dollar PR contract on the line. "I've spent a lot of money on all of you. Do. Not. Fuck this up. Okay? Now, big smiles, everyone. Big smiles," she'd say with a huge grin on her face and her eyes twitching with anxiety.

Fucking bullshit.

But you just smiled through it. Laughed when he flirted, because the cameras were watching. All eyes on you. You knew how to play the game. You couldn't risk it. Couldn't risk having a public meltdown. Couldn't risk Valentina's wrath unleashing on you after spending a goddamned fortune on forcing you, and the rest of the team, to take some PR training.

So you played your part, sat pretty and smiled like the good girl you were. The good soldier. The charming teammate. You laughed. Smiled. Let him touch you without cracking his ribs. But inside?

Your blood was boiling.

One more touch. Just one, and you'd have buried a pen through his eye socket.

But you weren’t the only one at the edge.

Bob sat beside you, deathly still. Not speaking. Barely blinking. His entire focus fixed—not on the cameras, not on the fans—but on him. On the man touching you. Every time the interviewer leaned in, Bob’s knuckles whitened on the mic. His leg bounced with barely contained fury. His eyes? Scorching.

After the panel, the team scattered back to the hotel, and the tension of the day finally started to lift.

"God, this was awful," you groaned, walking down the hotel hallway with Yelena.

Yelena snorted. "Awful? Please. I've had dental appointments more enjoyable than that."

You chuckled, grateful for her presence. "Seriously, though. That interviewer was a creep."

Yelena raised an eyebrow. "You mean Mr. 'Let me invade your personal space'?"

"Exactly," you said, shuddering at the memory.

Yelena smirked. "I was this close to 'accidentally' spilling my drink on him. Or shove a chair leg up his ass. Diplomatically, of course."

You snorted. "Would've paid to see that."

Yelena bumped your shoulder. “You were perfect though. Valentina’s favorite little asset. Good smile, no bloodshed.”

“Barely.”

“You coming to bed or plotting a revenge arc?”

“Bed. Barely.”

As you reached your room, Yelena gave you a quick hug. "Get some rest, babe. Tomorrow's another day of fun and games."

"Can't wait," you replied sarcastically, opening the door. "Good night, blondie."

"'Night, rage princess. I'm down the hallway. Scream if you get murdered. Or text. Whatever works," she blew a kiss and walked away.

You laughed, shaking your head as you entered your hotel room.

The lights were off, but the moonlight painted a pale silver across the carpet. At first, it felt normal—quiet, still. But then your body tensed. Your skin prickled. That deep, primal knowing.

You weren't alone.

Something was wrong.

Your body tensed, a flush of adrenaline rushing hot and fast through your veins. You reached blindly for the lamp on the side table, gripping the base like a weapon, heart pounding. But as your eyes adjusted, you saw it—a figure standing motionless in the far corner. Just beyond the reach of the light.

And then—movement.

A figure stepped from the corner shadows. Tall. Broad. Familiar.

"Bob?" you asked, heart in your throat. "Jesus fucking Christ—you almost gave me a heart attack."

You lowered the lamp slowly, setting it on the side table. Your breath came fast. "What—what are you doing in here? Are you okay?"

Silence.

No movement. Just that same heavy presence. You swallowed hard.

"This a bit, or are you trying to give me an actual heart attack? Because I gotta say, the serial killer act isn't really your usual vibe…"

Then he laughed.

But it wasn't Bob's laugh.

It was rough. Deep. Feral. It rumbled through the room like thunder. You froze.

He stepped forward slowly, each movement deliberate, predatory.

His silhouette was familiar, but not his. The shoulders were too squared. The stance too confident. That glint in his eye—hungry. Possessive.

“Bob—” you whispered, voice trembling.

“No, baby.” He stepped into the light, shadows clinging to his frame like a second skin. “Not Bob.”

Your heart dropped.

He was in black from head to toe. Energy pulsing off him in waves. The shadows moved with him, like they were part of him.

“Void,” you whispered.

He smiled. A slow, dangerous curve of lips. “Correct.”

“Fucking finally,” he muttered, stalking toward you. “I’ve been inside that coward long enough. Watching him drool over you like a kicked dog. Too afraid to touch. Too afraid to speak. He's been wanting to do this for so long. Bob. That pathetic little coward. He dreams about you. Whispers your name when he jerks off in the shower. But he can't say a word. Can't even look at you the way he wants to.

He stopped inches from you. Close enough to feel the heat of his body. “But I’m not afraid.”

Your knees wobbled. He radiated heat, danger, want.

“You think I didn’t see him?” he snarled. “That little fuck with the mic? His hands on you. His fucking eyes. You smiled at him. Laughed. While I sat there, tasting Bob’s rage. Feeling his need. His jealousy.”

Void leaned in, brushing your cheek with his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. How many nights he’s touched himself thinking about you while whispering your name.”

Your breath hitched.

“But now?” he growled. “Now I’ve got you. All to myself. And I’m going to make sure every inch of you remembers me.”

He didn't touch you. Not yet.

Void just stood there, too close, the shadows pulsing off his body like black heatwaves. The air was thick with him—his presence, his power, that deep, vibrating tension that curled your toes and locked your knees.

“You’re scared,” he said softly, almost amused. “But not enough.”

You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

His voice wrapped around you like velvet, smooth but cutting. “You should be running. Screaming. Calling for help.”

You swallowed, hard. “Why aren’t you stopping me?”

He tilted his head, smile widening. “Because you don’t want to leave, don't you, baby?”

The room darkened—not just metaphorically. The shadows shifted, swallowing the corners of the suite, making the world smaller, pressing in. His power curled through the space like smoke, thick and electric, and it wrapped around you like a lover’s arms.

“I felt it,” he murmured. “Every little flinch. Every time you wanted to slap his hand away. Every time you bit your tongue. You wanted to lose control.”

He leaned closer. Close enough that your lips almost brushed. “You wanted someone to see. And, baby, I saw. Everything. It made me want to rip that fucker's eyes out."

Your hand moved before you could think, pressing against his chest to push him back. But it was like shoving a wall. Solid. Unyielding. Void caught your wrist gently, slowly. His fingers closed around it, strong, possessive.

“And what does the good girl do?” he asked softly, stepping between your legs. “Smiles. Sits still. Takes it. But I see the truth. I feel it. You’re sick of holding it in.”

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear. “You want to be taken.”

You gasped. And that was all he needed.

He snapped.

Void slammed you against the wall in a blur, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he devoured your mouth in a bruising kiss. Tongue, teeth, claiming. His hands were everywhere—rough, demanding—gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt, pushing it up.

Your back arched against him, mouth open, moaning into him as he dragged your clothes off piece by piece. His voice never stopped, never softened.

“Say it,” he growled against your throat, licking over your pulse. “Say you want me to break you.”

You whimpered. “I want—fuck, I want—”

“Say it.”

His growl was feral.

He carried you to the bed and threw you down, following instantly, his weight pinning you to the mattress. His cock, heavy and thick, pressed hard against your thigh. You reached for him, but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Mine,” he snarled. “No one else gets to look at you like that. No one else gets to touch you. I’ll burn this entire fucking planet before I let someone else have you.”

And then—he was inside.

Deep. Hard. All of him.

You screamed.

He didn’t give you time to adjust, hips snapping into yours with brutal precision. Every thrust hit that perfect, devastating spot, your body writhing beneath him, crying out as your wrists twisted under his hold.

“Fucking perfect,” he hissed. “So fucking tight. You were made for me.”

You were already close—your body strung so tight from the tension, the fear, the want—and when he growled, “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it. Let me feel you come undone."

Your orgasm hit like a bomb, ripping through you, leaving you breathless, limp, trembling.

But Void didn’t stop. He fucked you through it. Harder. Faster. Pushing you to the edge again with every punishing thrust.

“You’re not done, baby,” he growled. “Not until I say.”

You sobbed, pleasure bordering on pain, mind white-hot.

And when he finally came—deep, pulsing inside you—he bit your shoulder, marking you, growling your name like a promise.

He finally collapsed over you, breathless. You were his now. And you loved it. Every single second of it.

And then the world came back slowly. The shadows retreated. The heat lingered. Your skin still trembled, slick with sweat, muscles twitching from the wreckage he’d left behind. The room was quiet now—no growling, no ragged threats, no snapping hips. Just breath. Slowed. Softened. Almost… human.

Then his body stilled completely.

“...Y/N?”

It was barely a whisper. The voice was fragile. Barely a whisper. So unlike what had just devoured you whole. He lifted his head—slowly, like he wasn’t sure what he’d see. Not black, not fire. Blue. Soft. Frightened. Aching Bob.

And he looked like he was about to break.

“Shit,” he rasped, his throat dry, lips parted. “I—fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Your heart cracked. He looked wrecked. Pale. Shaking. You didn’t hesitate—your hand rose to his face, gently brushing your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw.

“Hey,” you whispered. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He blinked rapidly. His body was still buried deep inside you, and now he was aware—completely and entirely. You saw the realization hit him like a freight train. Shame. Fear.

He didn’t relax. If anything, his panic deepened.

His gaze darted down between you—where his body was still inside yours. His breath hitched, like the very fact was too much to comprehend. Like the guilt physically hurt. He was panicking.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Y/N—did… did he hurt you?”

“No, Bob,” you said quickly, shaking your head.

His hands were shaking as he pulled back just slightly, enough to cup your hips like you were made of glass, to look. His eyes scanned your body frantically—your thighs, your neck, your wrists where Void had pinned you down. His fingers skimmed a bruise forming low on your ribcage and he flinched like he felt the pain.

“I didn’t—he—fuck, I tried to stop him. I swear, I tried to stop him—”

“Bob.”

“I heard everything. Everything, Y/N. And I couldn’t move. I couldn’t make him stop touching you—I couldn't protect you.”

“Bob,” you said more firmly, reaching for his face again, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Look at me.”

“I wanted it,” you said softly.

He froze.

“I wanted him. I wanted you. Both of you. I knew it wasn’t just you, and I didn’t care. I didn’t want to stop.”

His jaw trembled.

You stroked your thumb over his cheek, grounding him. “I’ve always wanted you, Bob. Even with Void. Especially with Void. Because he is you. Just the loud, angry part that says the things you won’t.”

Bob let out a choked sound, half laugh, half sob, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’m still sorry,” he murmured. “For not stopping him. For… liking it. For needing you so fucking much I couldn’t push him away. For letting him take over."

You smiled, small and real. “I liked it, too. Every single second. And I like all of you. Even the growling, bitey, wall-slamming part.”

He laughed, broken but warm. His thumb traced the edge of your cheekbone.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“But you’ve got me,” you said, brushing your lips over his. “Now what are you gonna do about it?”

He kissed you—slow and reverent this time. Soft. Grateful.

When he pulled back, his brows furrowed. “He was right, you know.”

You tilted your head. “About what?”

His throat bobbed. “About… how long I’ve wanted you. About what I think about when I… when I’m alone.”

You felt your pulse thrum.

Bob kept going, quiet and intense. “About how jealous I was. Of that guy. Of anyone who got to touch you, talk to you, be near you. I felt like I was going to lose it out there. I did lose it. Void just… finished what I couldn’t start.”

You smiled, slow and teasing. “Well then.”

He blinked, wary.

You arched a brow. “I might have to make you jealous more often.”

Bob groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder. “Please don’t.”

“No promises,” you whispered into his hair.

And for the first time that night—he laughed.

For real.

And then he held you. Finally whole. Finally yours.

    ⊹             ⊹            ⊹             ⊹            ⊹          ⊹             ⊹             ⊹

taglist ⊱☆⊰ @uraesthete @abbysbenchpr @sammystarswrite @pey2618 @qardasngan @lunaoieoie @orithyia-eriphyle @amatiswayland @madzzz6958 @all-by-myself98 @dark-silhouette @ghost-ghost-13 @wyvernthekriger @gayfiretruck @watermeezer @lvmxla @novausstuff @mommymilkers0526 @natureartisian @feralgoblinbabe (if you want to be tagged in my future bob/lewis works lmk!<3)

[sunflowerwinds]

bite it | v.a

summary: you and vi have decided that maybe each others company wasn’t the worst thing in the world. but you lay down some ground rules that you can’t help but break when you get pent up.

prev. part -> try it | next part -> lick it, spit it

pairing: fem!cheerleader!reader x soccer player!vi

contains: modern!au, mature content (MEN & MINORS DNI 18+) — fingering (r! & vi!recieving), oral (vi! & r! recieving), tit-sucking (r!recieving), possesive!vi (if you squint & reader if you squint harder), shower sex, kind of exhibitionism (they’re in the showers in a locker room so it’s open).

word count: 3.9K

a/n: SUPRISE!!!! let’s all pretend that i was supposed to post this over two weeks ago. okay? okay. THANK YOU TO MY VAL, MY GOLDEN GIRL @valeisaslut for editing this for me. ily 4ever <3 ENJOY HORNY FREAKS!!!

You and Vi came to an agreement.

If you were going to be fucking while you were partners for this project, there has to be ground rules. Mostly so that Caitlyn wouldn’t find out about it.

One: Only fuck during your ‘work’ time a.k.a your breaks to avoid being seen around campus together.

Two: Do not tell anyone about this as word spreads insanely fast. You two didn’t need your teammates finding out.

Two easy and simple rules that shouldn’t be hard to not break. Well, at least, that’s what you thought.

For the past two days, you had been feeling an abnormal amount of horniness; an aching feeling that can only be described as animalistic. You zoned out during practice and almost got kicked in the nose.

When Caitlyn asked you what’s wrong with you recently, you gave her a short response.

“I’m just stressed about classes,” you responded as you chug your bottle of water as during your break.

Being the absolute angel she was, she offered a quick solution. “Oh, we could study together down in the library on our free days. I’ve got Monday afternoons open.”

The guilt hit at that moment: reminding you of what she didn’t know and how terrible of a friend you’re being to her.

You couldn’t go five seconds without thinking of Vi’s tongue tracing over your clit or her abs pressed up against your back when she finger-fucks you from behind or the way her hands would tighten on your skin with such a natural dominance.

Then the daunting realization washes over you when you check your period calendar.

It’s ovulation week. And you aren’t going to see Vi for another three fucking days.

You tried to get off on your own but your hands and vibrator aren't good enough. Nothing feels as good as her as much as you hate to admit it.

You suck in a deep breath as you attempt to focus on one of your other courses but your mind desperately lingers to the last photo you remember Vi sending you just yesterday.

Being the absolute pain in your ass that she is, she sent you a photo of her ‘injury’ on her stomach on the toned skin that had been scraped from tripping over the ball when it had been passed to her without her realizing. Her hand had held up her jersey to reveal the miniscule spot of redness, the band of her black sports bra peeking from the top of the photo and the waistband of her briefs from the bottom.

Fucking tease, you had thought as you had texted her back immediately to put her shirt down as you couldn’t bare for her to know how you touched yourself to the sight of it ten minutes later.

You shake your head with harsh blinks as you click your pen on your notebook page rapidly to attempt to shush your arousing thoughts, taking in long stabilizing breaths.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You’ve been sleeping with this girl for two weeks now and she’s making you feel like you’re slowly losing your sanity.

Should you–

No. No, you agreed. Only your Wednesdays with her.

But maybe she won’t mind one time. Just once, you try to convince yourself that you aren’t acting feral.

You grab your phone from next to your laptop on your desk, opening your messages with Vi to type something and send it before you can take it back.

You | come over, please?

You watch as the bubbles pop up for a moment, anxiously tapping your fingers on the desk. Your phone buzzes in your hand to show her response.

Violet | wow a please? did someone steal your phone?

You | you’re an ass

Violet | that’s not what you were saying last week when you sat on my face

Your face heats up at the memory of her sloppy noises underneath you as your hands gripped tightly to your headboard and her strong forearms holding you down by your trembling thighs on her face.

Fuck, that isn’t helping.

You | well, is that a no?

Violet | as much as i’d love to, i got practice rn.

Violet | but it ends in 30. i’ll hit the showers then head on over, gorgeous.

Part of you wants to just leave it there; ignore her and stand on your ground to yourself on having the patience you claimed to have. But, the more feverish part of you wants to run down to the field and take her right there in front of everyone.

Wait. Why couldn’t you just go down there?

You type on your phone's keyboard screen, setting it aside out of nerves.

You | i’ll come to you. wait in the showers for me

You resume your studying as if you hadn’t just sent that message, your leg bouncing out of anticipation. Hearing the soft buzz of her response coming through five minutes later, you snatch your phone and hold the screen up to your face.

Violet liked your message

Violet | will do, baby ;)

Desperation gains a whole new definition as you wait around the corner, watching as the last of Vi’s soccer team leaves the locker room, but not seeing her come out. So she can listen every once in a while and not be a stubborn pain.

You place a hand on the cold door, pushing it open with a grunt at the weight of it. The moment it was open, you could faintly hear the sound of a shower running towards the back.

Without further thought, you make your way past the tall blue lockers to enter the showers.

“Vi?” You call out, the echo of your voice filling the area.

The sudden squeak of a handle makes you wince before you hear the sound of a shower curtain being tossed open.

“Down here!” She calls back before resuming the water.

You suck in a deep breath to mentally prepare yourself to see Vi, following the sound of her voice, finding yourself standing in front of the only shut curtain amongst the others that were empty. You curse mentally at the sight of her silhouette, shaking your head.

“Are you just gonna stand there or come on in, gorgeous? I don’t bite.” Vi teases through the curtain, a soft chuckle leaving her. “Much.”

You roll your eyes before stripping yourself of the minimal clothing you had on, ignoring how your underwear had stuck to your sopping cunt. You simply set them down on the bench before gripping onto the flimsy plastic of the shower curtain, tugging it back with a harsh screech.

And god, you couldn’t suppress the moan that left your throat the second your eyes landed on Vi.

The steamy water from the shower head trickles down her delectably toned body, highlighting every ridge of her ribs and abs. Her back tattoo glistens in a way that nearly had you dropping to your knees to lick every line of ink. You truly couldn’t tell how much time passed of you gawking at her until you heard her clear her throat.

“Did you ask to come down here just to stare at me, princess? I mean I don’t mind but…” She trails off as her cocky expression somehow grows wider.

You blink as you lock eyes with her, stepping more into the shower so that the scorching water runs down your own bare body.

“Shut up,” you groan, placing your hands on her chest and pushing her up against the cold yellow tile.

Vi’s eyes, for a moment, widen at your eagerness before she smirks down at you. You don’t give her not even one second to say a smart-ass comment as you press your lips to hers with assertion, cupping either side of her neck to keep her steady. You moan into her mouth as her hands find their way to your ass, gripping the flesh with just as much desperation. Your tongue swipes over her bottom lip, humming as she sucks on your tongue with a soft moan.

You press your hips flush against her lower half, almost grinding into her for any sort of relief. Your clit pulses with need as Vi’s left pointer and middle finger tease at your slit from behind as her right hand holds one cheek open for easier access.

“You want my fingers, baby?” Vi mutters as she nibbles at your bottom lip then trailing down to the nape of your neck.

You whine as you nod against her, wrapping your arms around her neck to keep her somehow even closer to you.

“But,” you gasp as she captures one of your nipples into her mouth, distracting your train of thought. “I-I want to taste you first.”

Vi halts her movements for a moment, taken aback by your words. She pants softly against your skin as her hands grip your waist for a moment. You knew you weren’t as experienced with women but, somehow, the mere thought of getting a taste of her sparked that impulse in you.

“...If you’ll let me.” You add for reassurance, a hand cradling the back of her head as she’s still latched to your boob.

The red haired girl slowly releases your hard nipple from her lips, not before making sure to lick over it once more and standing upright. A ghost of a smile lingers on her lips, the water falling past her face in a cinematic light.

“Get on your knees, gorgeous.” She mutters as her hands follow up your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of you, before stopping to settle on your shoulders.

Her grips tightens slightly, doing as you're told, knees digging into the round drain over and jagged title. Your eyes are immediately hit by the streams of water as you attempt to look up at Vi, cursing at the feeling.

“Shit, sorry,” Vi reaches a hand up to maneuver the mounted neck so that it wouldn’t bother you too much.

You can’t help but feel your heart tighten at the simple yet gentle gesture, but still try to push it as quickly as the feeling comes. You wave her off with a chuckle, brushing your hair out of your face as you realize that your face is right in front of Vi’s crotch. Her bush has you salivating as you lean forward.

You press a kiss just below her belly button, her stomach visibly tightening at the feeling of your lips against her skin. Your hands settle on the thick meat of her muscular thighs as you trail the kisses down her v-line to her aching clit. It’s a hot red, calling for you to cool it down.

Finally, your arm hooks underneath her thigh to lift her leg. She gets the hint and rests her thigh over your shoulder, cursing when you lick that first long stripe over her puffy cunt. She gasps softly, her hips bucking into your face, chasing your tongue with a desperate libido.

“O-oh,” a broken soft moan leaves her lips.

Soaking in the encouragement, you continue your eager motions at her slit. You, shamelessly, moan into her cunt from the sole taste of her.

You can't help but think of what you had been missing out on. Was this why Vi would ravish you and ‘could never get enough of you’?

The addicting musky scent that lingers on your tongue along with the sound of her attempting to shield her noises sparks a flame in you even stronger. Your eyes lock on hers as you suck her clit, humming when she jerks her hips against your face. Your ego shoots through the roof as she lifts one of her toned arms to cover her eyes, her mouth falling open to prettily pant into the steamy shower space.

Her abs tighten as her grinding hips follow your tongue eagerly.

What you would give to have this image imprinted in your mind forever.

Sure, Vi would moan and groan softly into your mouth when she fucked you until you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. But these sounds? The quiet begging and endearing whimpers? Oh, they are driving you insane.

You’re relentless with your tongue along her slit as her breathing picks up, signaling you that she’s getting close. Your arm keeps her thigh up on your shoulder as the thick muscle tightens and threatens to fall back to the ground.

“Fuck, fuck, oh, just like that, baby,” she praises through stuttered whines.

You moan against her clit as you raise your free hand to her cunt, teasing the tip of your pointer and middle through the folds. Vi nods rapidly the second she feels your fingers, pushing her hips against your face.

You gently and gradually slide your fingers into her, making sure to not be too rough with her. She grinds down to follow the new feeling, eager to chase her orgasm that you’re pulling out of her. You curl your fingers as you continue to lick and suck on the sensitive bud.

Vi’s moans are growing higher in pitch, her jaw going slack. Keeping your pace with your tongue and eager fingers, you watch as her flushed face contorts, gripping onto your head to shove your face into her cunt harshly.

You weren’t complaining, that's for damn sure.

You feel her thigh shaking on your shoulder as she finally cums, coating your fingers, the warmth dribbling down your hand. You pull away from her clit but slow down your movements, eager to taste her arousal. Her knees buckle as she chases the orgasm, harsh pants leaving her lips as she attempts to recover.

“Well, fuck, princess,” she says with a shaky chuckle.

You peer up at her from your kneeled position, placing a few soft kisses on her clit teasingly. You hold back a cheeky smirk as she bucks her hips before standing on wobbly knees. Vi takes notice of this as her hands land on your waist to keep you upright, tugging you against her as she captures your lips into a hungry kiss.

Teeth clanking and loud panting fill your ears as you pull away slightly to raise the hand that was inside of her, holding up your two fingers to her red bitten lips. She stares at you with blown out pupils, greedily letting you wipe her own cum in her mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” You mutter with a hum.

Vi groans as she licks her lips to show you she agrees.

“Up against the wall and spread your legs for me,” she instructs as she places harsh kisses to your neck all the way down to your tits.

Usually, you would scold her about marking you up, but that lust blinded part of you wants to shamelessly show them off. So you simply do as you're told, licking over your own lips to remind yourself what you just did. Your back hits the cold tile as the shower water is running lukewarm at this point, no longer steaming up the confined space.

Vi’s teeth bare as she bites at your collarbone, digging her canines into your hot skin. You moan softly as her hand travels down to in between your spread legs to feel your slit with her middle and ring finger.

“Fuck, eating my pussy got you all wet for me, baby?” Vi questions.

You nod as you look at her with nothing but desire.

“I—fuck—needed you,” you admit with a soft whimper.

Vi’s baby blues lock on yours as her smile grows eagerly. You press your lips to hers to attempt to conceal that giddy grin (and the fact that her eye contact alone made your heart skip in an alarming way).

She chuckles, sliding her middle finger into you, messily making out with you as you wanted. Her tongue glides over your own as she easily slides in her ring finger next.

You shiver at the stretch as your arms wrap around her shoulders to keep her close. Her tits press against your own as she continues her sloppy kisses, beginning to pump her fingers into your needy cunt. She detaches her lips from your own to watch your furrowed brows and heavy eyes threatening to shut from the titillating feeling.

“So fuckin’ greedy, baby. What happened to only Wednesday’s, huh?” She teases.

You would snip back but you only moan when she asks the taunting question.

The two of you freeze at the sound of the heavy locker room door opening and shutting with an echoing rumble. Rushed footsteps follow along with low curses of annoyance.

The silence that comes over the two of you is deafening.

“Damn, Vi, you still here?” This person, who you assume is one of her teammates, calls out to the girl who has her fingers inside of you.

Vi stares at you with an eyebrow raise, holding her free hand up to press her pointer finger on her lips. You roll your eyes at her cocky smirk but hold your breath as you listen to the footsteps echoing around the locker room.

“Yeah. I’ll be out soon.” Vi calls back as she continues to pump her fingers in and out of you.

“Well, I think I left my phone here. Did you see it?”

Still, you'd be lying if you said the thought of almost getting caught doesn’t thrill you, just a little.

Your body is the one to give that away for you, clenching around her lengthy fingers, and meeting her eyes. Vi mouths a shush that only makes you want to release the moans itching at your throat even more.

The sound of lockers opening and closing and shuffling of clothes are reminders that you can’t make a sound.

“Did you check the field or the bleachers?” Vi calls out to her teammate as she continues her feverish pumps.

“Shit, you’re probably right.” The teammate mutters to herself as she slams her locker shut.

Vi curls her fingers to meet your g-spot, a sudden moan slipping from your lips at the overwhelming pressure, but she quickly uses her free hand to cover your mouth, your hips stuttering to chase her fingers.

You whine at the way her natural dominance took over in that moment.

“Stay quiet for me, gorgeous. She’s almost gone,” Vi whispers in your ear with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You huff as you feel your stomach tighten, your orgasm begging to release.

“Vi, did you say something?”

The red haired girl grins at you before calling back: “No. Good luck with finding your phone.”

A beat of excruciatingly long silence passes.

“Alright. Uh, yeah, thanks. Don’t take too long or else Coach will have you running 100 laps again.”

Your brows furrow at Vi at her teammates' insinuation.

Again?

Has she fucked a girl in the showers before?

“Yeah, okay.” Vi snorts as she presses her lips to yours.

The two of you listen for the receding footsteps before the sound of the large door slams once again. You grab onto Vi’s wrist to push her hand away from your shielded mouth as you bury your face into her neck, freely letting your timid moans out now.

“You’re a d-dick,” you stutter out into her damp skin, nibbling a possessive hickey on her skin.

Vi throws her head back to allow better access for your markings, a grunt leaving her lips.

“Oh, you love it, baby,” she mutters smugly.

And the upsetting thing is you really fucking do.

Her arrogant words draw you closer to cumming all over her fingers. Your clit throbs as you remove one of your hands to reach in between your bodies, rubbing your own aching bud.

“Vi, please. ‘M so close.” You whimper.

Vi takes notice of how you’re touching yourself, shaking her head with disappointment.

“Take your hand off.”

Your brow quips at her tone. She sighs as she leans in more to kiss you deeply, making you hum as she pulls away to ghost her lips over your own.

“Please?” She adds with a cheeky grin.

You hesitantly remove your hand, watching as she drops down on her knees with her fingers still pumping inside of you. You watch her latch her lips around your clit and moan lowly at the relieving feeling of her tongue. Your hands weave into her hair instantly, rolling your hips against her face shamelessly, your orgasm clawing at the base of your spine.

Vi’s eyes are hooded with concentration, and she doesn’t dare let up her persistent thrusts. You fold over, attempting to clench your legs to ease the pressure. The familiar overwhelming feeling rips through your chest and stomach.

“I– oh my god,” you whimper throughout your orgasm.

Your inner thighs shake with sensitivity as you can feel yourself leaking down her toned forearm. You let out soft pants as you come down from the orgasm, pushing Vi’s face back as carefully as you could manage. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears as you lean your head back against the tile, shutting your eyes to calm yourself down.

A few seconds pass of Vi placing kisses up your body before you feel the stream of the lukewarm water hitting your boneless naked body.

“So, now, should I be expecting you to ambush me while I’m in the shower from here on out or what’s our schedule looking like?” She tilts her head at you, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I didn’t ambush you. I let you know I was coming,” you shake your head with an amused grin.

Vi’s smile grows at your accidental innuendo, placing a hand over her own lips to attempt to hide it. Before she can say anything, you roll your eyes as you push her chest slightly.

“Ha, ha. Yes, I definitely let you know I was coming. You are so–”

Vi holds her hands up in defense with a shake of her head. “Hey, you said it. I didn’t.”

You two shared heavy kisses until the water runs cold. Showering together felt eerily domestic; not fitting the dynamic you’ve established.

As much as you insisted on just leaving in the clothes you came in, Vi had the brilliant idea to swap clothes. You left the locker room in her baggy joggers and her black wife pleaser, while she sported your ribbed lace grey cami and Hello Kitty pajama shorts that had her ass nearly hanging out of them.

You giggle at the sight as she reaches behind her to tug the back down, walking down the hall to the exit door.

“Well, this is the sexiest you’ve ever looked, Vi,” you motion to her (your) clothing.

Vi scoffs before ranking her eyes up and down your body. “It’s definitely worth it seeing you in my clothes. You look…”

You finish for her as you fold your arms in front of your chest with a knowing smile. “Douchey?”

“Beautiful.” She says simply, her eyes shining as she tilts her head at you.

The soft comment throws you off guard.

It means nothing, you repeat mentally before you take one step forward to capture her lips into a gentle kiss; too gentle for what you two are. Her hands find your waist, thumbing at your hips.

You pull away, hooking your finger onto the strap of the cami to snap it against her skin. “Have fun walking home in that.”

“Same goes to you, princess.” She kisses you once more, lingering as if she wants to stay here with you. “I’ll see you Wednesday?”

“Sadly.” You sigh dramatically.

Vi’s eyes flicker to your lips again once she detaches herself from you completely, pressing her back against the heavy exit door. You watch her leave into the bright midday sun, making her way to her own dorm room.

But you couldn’t help but wonder as you walked home:

Why the fuck did you miss her so much?

TAGLIST: @sawaagyapong @unear7hly @leeidk87 @childishname @ferxanda @whisperingcherub @rad-radical2 @strawb4kdior @natscloset @aliendustpee @satorix @rosieeteaa @moodient @mars4hellokitty @klallx @skzvilleshi @drunkenrosesluv @fairexy78 @angelynn-nicole @sevikas-baby @milanyas @jajsnjz @oatmatchalatte

[cerisereids]

𝗜𝘁 𝗔𝗶𝗻'𝘁 𝗠𝗲, 𝗕𝗮𝗯𝗲- 𝗦.𝗥.

Pairing- PostPrison!Spencer Reid x Liaison!OldMoney!Reader

WC- 5.6k

Summary- You have to rekindle things with an old flame for a case. It helps Spencer realize some deep-seated feelings.

Contains- modern!liaison!reader, canon-typical violence, description of crime scene photos, Spencer is literally feral, reader is in her late twenties, reader has long hair (or hair long enough to flip over her shoulder), mentions of cheating, reader's ex is the worst, mention of cocaine, the case probably isn't canon compliant

A/N- This was fully inspired by the episode The Black Queen where Penelope bumps into her ex bon appetit, divider from @cafekitsune!!! Also!! Hugest shout-out to @cheriesbucky for all your help with this!! You are the best ever!!

You're holed up in your office, your finger aggressively running over your laptop's touch pad. Your eyes scan each email as thoroughly as you can, case files never-ending. A pink mug of coffee is filled to the brim, fueling your rapid scrolling.

A new one pops to the top of your inbox, and your blood runs cold. You're stopped in your tracks, the same way you always are when case files begin with 'Provincetown, Massachusetts'.

Your finger hovers shakily over the track pad, clicking the email to find gruesome crime scenes photos. This particular unsub's dump site is achingly familiar, even after all this time. Multiple bodies lay on a coastal beach, posed for the police to find.

You bring your mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip as you study the PDF filling your screen. Extortion and murder within a high end law firm. The arms on your hair prickle at that, a chill unzipping down your spine.

Engrossed in your screen, you barely notice the time. 8:04. The team has been waiting in the conference room for 4 minutes, and you need to present them a case. You sigh in resignation. It turns out you're going to Provincetown.

You jump out of your chair almost cartoonishly. You scramble, printing hard copies of the case file, folding your laptop under your arm as you grab your coffee mug. Your heels clack rapidly against the linoleum floor as you desperately balance the coffee sloshing around in your mug.

The strong musk of coffee wafts through your nose as you enter the stuffy conference room. Sunlight peeks through the shaded windows, a sliver of golden light brightening a room that's seen so much darkness.

The chaos you're emanating mirrors exactly what you've felt inside since viewing the case file currently in your clutches.

"Sorry I'm late!" you squeal, setting your coffee down in your haste. You catch a certain brown eyed doctor smile over the rim of his own coffee cup as you shove the hard copies his way.

"Our case..today..." you trail off, fidgeting with the technology as the first crime scene finally loads on the large flat screen. Anxiety pricks like tiny pin needles, poking each one of your nerves as the familiar photograph pops up on the screen. Your shaking hands smooth over your buttery yellow dress, willing yourself to calm the adrenaline coursing through you. You hope your anxiety goes unnoticed, though you know it's unlikely in a room full of profilers.

"Our case today is in Provincetown, Massachusetts," you state. Saying it aloud proves to be confirmation of what you already know to be true. Your heart sinks to the deepest pit in your stomach. There's no getting out of this case, no matter how hard you try.

"White collar?" a curious voice pulls you out of your stupor.

Your eyes dart to the man in front of you. Ruffed hair and a suit that fits perfectly snug, Spencer Reid flips through his case file. You try your hardest to focus on the glimmer of his cuff links, the flex of his deft fingers, anything to keep your mind off your impending trip to the east.

"Extortion," Emily specifies.

You punctuate her point with more grim photos. Multiple victims sprawled out on an all-too familiar coastal beach. You shift on your heels, hands rising to your hips as if you could move around the discomfort this peculiar nostalgia brings.

"Multiple victims left on Herring Cove Beach, shot execution style. All victims had taken large cash withdrawals from the bank," you conclude.

The team rattles off theories, bouncing off each other in a way you've come to enjoy in your short time at the BAU. You can't pay attention, though, to anything other than the erratic beat of your heart, the boiling heat singeing your stomach.

You're silent on the jet, your focus drifting in and out of the team's conversation. You have to fight the guilt creeping its way into your gut. You're acting like a child, your head petulantly turned toward the window.

It isn't long before Spencer sits across from you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. It's not as if you don't want to see him. You'd never deny the chance to look into his stunning brown eyes. You just know he's figured you out, not bothering to hide the knowing uptick of his lip.

You haven't known Spencer long, just in the few short months since his release. You were hired on while the team was actively trying to release him. An extra set of eyes and ears trained for the media soon became an essential part in doing so. You've been enamored with him since, his mysterious aura creating a magnetic pull you can't escape.

"What's bothering you?" he asks. It's soft, tentative, testing your limits of what you'll share.

"Nothing," you breathe, though you know it's a lost cause.

All it takes is the uptick of his right brow, a look in his eye that sears right through you. You shift once more, willing yourself to get rid of the weight resting heavy on your chest.

"I'm from Provincetown. It's been 5 years since I've been back," you confess, avoiding eye contact. Your eyes are trained on the puffy clouds you float above.

"Ah..." Spencer nods, a knowing smile on his face. "I've been there."

Your eyes dart to his, eyebrows raised in suspicion. Since you've met Spencer upon his release from prison, he's presented as cool, collected. Not someone who feels as unraveled as you are now.

"Every time we go to Las Vegas," he affirms, and a soft smile spreads across your lips. "I feel the same way you do. Guilty, anxious, like your gut's been singed with a fire poker."

The way he reads you so easily completely unravels you, your heart clutches as it picks up in speed. You know he's a top class profiler, but the way he looks at you, it's like he's been waiting for you. To read you, study you, look at you.

"That's exactly it," you muse, your chin resting in the palm of your hand. You avoid eye contact once more, his gaze piercing straight through you.

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Rossi calls from the other end of the jet. "We got a suspect, get over here."

A white hot embarrassment pools in your stomach, all eyes trained on you and Spencer as you make your way to the front of the jet. You sit next to Emily, as far away as you can get from Spencer. You feel his eyes on you still.

"Provincetown PD just called," Emily informed you, "they just made a positive identification. A man named Preston Langford was caught by one of the security cameras fleeing the scene of the dumping site. He was driving with another unidentified male in the car. They're on the lam."

Your stomach drops at the name, the rest of Emily's words falling on deaf ears. They're replaced with a high pitched whine ringing through your ears. Your thoughts race, pinging around your head like a pinball. Preston. A suspect. The thought makes you nauseous. though you're not entirely surprised.

At the sound of your name, your eyes snap open to see Emily staring at you with a look of concern. You must not have responded the first time she said it. As soon as you're aware, your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as all of the teammates’ eyes are on you once more.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her brows furrowing.

You swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to look at anyone as you mumble, "Preston Langford is my ex-boyfriend."

Her words ring in Spencer's ear even after they step off the jet. "Preston Langford is my ex-boyfriend." White hot jealousy has seared through him since the words fell off her lips. It's unlike him, this animalistic urge to keep her as far away from this man as possible.

He watches the way she greets the local PD, introducing the team, a sweet smile on her face. The way their eyes linger on her as the wind drifts through her hair makes him want to boil over. Her light dress flows gently, hugging her body in a way that makes his head spin.

He knows they're not the only men looking at her like this, a fact he's become increasingly aware of in the past few weeks. Upon his return to the team after his release, she was the last thing he expected. He understands the reasoning behind her hire, the need for extra hands while he was behind bars. She's completely and totally thrown him, though. She's unlocked this magnetism within him, this animalistic urge to have her close at all times.

Frustration crawls up his spine as he watches her go, leaving to address the media before the story leaks. People flock to her, seeing exactly what he does. It drives him insane. The heat of the beach forces a drop of sweat down his brow, he squeezes his eyes shut before ripping his suit jacket off. He's left in his white button down, sleeves now rolled up to the elbow.

The sweet, coconutty smell of the sunscreen she's just applied invades his senses before he even sees her. He cracks his neck, scrambling for at least a semblance of patience before he looks at her. Her brows are furrowed in concern, a feather light touch on his forearm that sends his brain into a nauseating spin.

"Spencer," she starts, the worry lacing her tone clutching at his heart, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," he mutters, gruff and distant, "fine. Just hot." He refuses to make eye contact with her, his hands flexing at his sides.

"Yeah, okay..." she trails off, unbelieving. "Well, I have some financial records of our victims here. Each of them made large withdrawals of cash once a week in the months leading up to the murders. Go crazy, Doctor."

The title unzips a shiver down his spine, goosebumps rising on his heated flesh. He feels his cheeks heat, no doubt tinting red. It's the sun. It has to be. She walks away again, and it's slow, torturous. The wind clings her clothing to her body in a way that's nearly sinful. It's not long until sickly guilt boils in the pit of his stomach. He has no right to look at her like this, especially not after he spoke to her like that.

He wipes his brow, trying to pour every ounce of himself into these financial records. His eyes scan the documents in his usual rapid speed, and it's not long before he's got a lead. He charges up the beach, rounding up the team in one of the tents the local PD set up on the beach.

"All of our victims spent exactly $150 over the course of the last two months, once a week, immediately after they made their cash withdrawals from the bank," Spencer spreads out the records before his team, each of them moving closer to the shaky white picnic table to inspect them for themselves.

"Do we know where?" Emily asks, looking up at Spencer.

"Somewhere called The Westbury Club," Spencer answers.

"The Westbury?" a high pitched voice calls out from the entrance of the tent. His eyes dart to her, frozen there with a look of shock painted on her face.

"You know it?" Tara asks, and she shifts awkwardly in her spot.

"Yeah...yeah. Preston used to take me there, it's been his favorite spot for I don't even know how long," she shakes her head incredulously.

Spencer rolls his eyes, stifling a groan at the thought that this guy's 'favorite spot' is a place called The Westbury Club.

"Well, let's scope it out," Rossi states, moving towards her and pointing, "you're coming with us."

She shrugs, and turns to follow him.

The team pulls up to a large, white building with ivy crawling across the front. A simple, sleek sign above the door reads The Westbury Club. Spencer stays close to her as they make their way inside.

"Wow!" the bartender exclaims once they're inside, "what a surprise!" He's looking right at her, and Spencer sees an uncomfortable smile stretch her lips.

"Hi, Mike," she reaches over to shake his hand.

"Gosh, how long has it been, 5 years? We all knew you'd go on to do incredible things," his smile seems sincere, so why does she seem so anxious?

"Well, thanks, that's sweet," she breathes, "hey, I have a question for you. Preston still come around here?" The name almost hurts Spencer's ears.

"Every Thursday, always with the same group of people. Why?" the bartender replies.

"We're going to need copies of your security tapes from every Thursday over the last three months," she orders, and there's something about her assertive tone that invigorates him, swells his chest with pride.

The bartender leaves, and she leans back on the bar, taking in her surroundings.

"This place hasn't changed a bit," her voice is laced with disdain as her eyes dart around.

"You went here a lot?" the words are gritty on Spencer's tongue. The thought of her dressed to the nines, sitting across from some loser who's now a primary suspect, makes him want to boil over in rage.

"Every Thursday," the confession rocks Spencer, the idea that she could mean so much to this guy that his crimes are modeled after her. Not that he's their unsub or anything.

"Really?" Rossi's voice comes from behind them, approaching from the back of the restaurant. "You think we can use that?"

Spencer doesn't like the suggestion lingering in Rossi's tone. Nerves crawl up his spine like tiny spiders.

"How?" she inquires, as she shifts her weight and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Well, tomorrow's Thursday," he states, nodding to the bartender who's now returned with a USB drive, "think he'll be here this week?"

"I can almost guarantee it," Mike replies, a concerned look in his eye.

"Alright," Rossi huffs, "then there's something I might need you to do for us," he nods towards her, and Spencer knows whatever it is, he's not going to like it.

You're sitting in an FBI van parked outside The Westbury. Your 'night-out' makeup paints your skin, red lips and a smoky eye accentuating your features. A tight, deep red dress hugs your frame, black heels lifting you an extra four inches. Your eyes are trained on Rossi's shoe, your leg bouncing as you try and focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

"You're the only one of us that has a connection to our main suspect, so you need to be as smooth as possible," Rossi declares.

You nod shakily, a nauseating mix of anxiety and adrenaline thrumming through your veins. Rossi squares your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. You catch Spencer in your peripheral, nestled in the corner of the van.

He looks about as nervous as you, his frame wrapped in a sleek, navy suit, his fingers interlaced in a death grip. He rests his elbows on his knees, his brows furrowed in what looks like frustration. Your own brows mirror his, unsure of what's been wrong with him since you've touched down in Massachusetts.

"You guys are going to be just fine. I don't know what this guy was like as a boyfriend, but judging from his financial records he's not a peach. He can't get to you anymore. You're simply undercover, and Spencer will be right next to you the whole time" Rossi's voice is calm, it grounds you in these last few moments before you're faced with Preston once again.

Your heels click against the pavement in time with the tap of Spencer's formal shoes. As you walk towards the restaurant, a faint hum of classical music wafting out into the parking lot.

You don't make it very far until his pinky hesitantly links with yours, a soft gesture that doesn't match the hard exterior he's put on the past few days. You turn your head towards him slightly, catching his flushed skin and bashful smile. The soft light emanating from the restaurant coat him in a golden glow, and you take a moment to be selfish, to truly absorb how gorgeous he looks like this.

"You have nothing to worry about, you know," Spencer mutters, his gaze falling towards the concrete. "You're handling this case perfectly, just like you do every other case you work on. Just because we're here doesn't change that."

"Thanks, Spence," you breathe out, your cheeks heating slightly at the compliment. He nods, subtle yet firm, reassuring as you two approach the door.

The golden lights of The Westbury coat your skin. The familiar hum of intimate conversation and clinking wine glasses wafts through the air. You close your eyes and take a breath, summoning the you that existed five years ago, standing next to a man planted so firmly in your present.

You assume the part of a couple once you enter the restaurant, Spencer opens the door for you, a large hand splayed on the small of your back as you enter. You greet the hostess with the sparkle in your eye of a woman deeply in love, your arms wrapped around Spencer's.

As you're led to your table, you scan the expanse of the restaurant, and your heart stops when you spot the familiar head of blonde hair. His eyes are on you the second yours find him, and it strikes you. His eyes shoot straight through you like a bullet. You play hard to get, looking away, but not before you take in the faces surrounding him. Unfortunately, they all look like every other man that exists in your hometown. The classic coastal cut and fit- flowing hair, matched with pastel button downs and tight fitted slacks.

You roll your eyes as you turn your gaze towards Spencer, the waitress bringing two glasses of deep red wine. You raise your brows in time with your glass, clinking it with Spencer's as you take a sip.

"He's seen me already," you hum lowly, a smirk painting your lips to convey a different message to any possible onlookers.

"Really?" Spencer asks, and it's flirtatious in nature. You have to remind yourself he's playing a part, you're undercover.

"Mmhm," you smile, resting your chin in your hand. You take another selfish moment, imagining what it would be like to do this with him for real. Being able to go over every insane part of your day together, to share a meal and walk home hand in hand, slightly tipsy.

"Guy's got eyes like a hawk," Spencer huffs, and you swear, you catch a bit of disdain there. It's different, not the same vein in which the team normally discusses a suspect. Almost...jealous.

"Yeah, well, we really need to give him a show if we want him over here," you giggle, lacing your hands with his over the table. "He's the most stubborn person I've ever known. It'd take a miracle to get him to approach me first."

You feel Spencer squeeze your hand at that, a vein popping in his forehead. He fixes his face quick, though, his free hand reaching to grace your cheek. It's then you truly realize the expanse of his hands, how tiny your cheek feels in comparison to his large palm.

"We better give him something to be real stubborn about, then," Spencer murmurs as he shifts closer, leaning his face closer to yours ever so slightly.

You sit like this for the briefest moment, taking in each freckle, scar, and dimple. You don't know when you'll be this close to him again, and he's too beautiful for you to pass up the opportunity to take all of him in.

Your attention is pulled by a low chuckle coming from the other end of the table, and your heart sinks. You know precisely who it belongs to, and you're brutally shoved back into the reality of your situation.

"Didn't think I'd ever see you here again," Preston's voice is gruff, angry. You know it all too well. Your eyes drag slowly towards him, refusing to leave Spencer's as your heart begins to race.

"Oh!" you exclaim in faux shock, and Preston rolls his eyes, the ice clinking in his glass. "Hey, you..." you trail off, eyes scanning him from top to bottom. A glint of playfulness dances in your eye, Rossi's words echoing in your brain. Make him think you still want him, even if you're with someone else. He's a narcissist, our profile says so, you know it. He won't be able to resist you if he thinks you still have feelings for him.

It makes you nauseous, and you fight off a shiver, letting it roll off your spine as to not give yourself away. Spencer squeezes your hand again, and it gives you the confidence to keep going. You flip your hair over your shoulder, letting your chin rest there as you bat your eyelashes.

"It's good to see you, how have you been?" you ask flirtatiously, a cunning smile curling your lips.

"Clearly not as good as you," he nods to Spencer without looking at him, taking a step closer to you.

Spencer tenses, you can feel it in the way his hand freezes in yours. You squeeze his this time.

"Yeah? And how good do you think I've been?" your tone is light, lilting, though your heart sits at the bottom of your stomach like a rock.

"Why don't you tell me?" his voice is low, an attempt to be sultry that flies right over you.

You see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, his trained on every move of the table Preston walked away from. He squeezes your hand again, a feather light tap of his finger letting you know he's got something. What it is, you're not sure.

Spencer pulls his hand from yours, a rough clearing of his throat breaking through the conversation. Finally, Preston turns his attention to Spencer. Nerves poke at your gut, hot and fiery.

"Who's this?" Preston asks, attempting to be nonchalant. His iron grip on his drink gives him away, though, clear as day.

You really didn't think it'd be this easy, but then you remember he cheated on you after five years with your best friend from high school. He clearly doesn't have much willpower, if any at all.

"Her boyfriend," Spencer punctuates that last word, anger lacing each syllable. Your brows quirk at his rather incredible acting abilities.

"Boyfriend?" Preston scoffs, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. "Don't tell me, sweetheart. Don't tell me you're taking another man here? On a Thursday?"

"I don't know," you twirl your hair. "What are you doing here on a Thursday? Don't tell me you've brought another girl here, hm?"

It truly scares you how easy it is to slip back into this version of yourself, the one that would have been content running Preston's errands and doing his dirty work. Thank God you left.

"You know I'd never, sweetheart," he drawls. God, he's laying that sweetheart name on thick. Disgust creeps up your gut like a spider at his tone. "I'm just with my buddies. We play poker here on Thursdays now."

"Poker?" Spencer interjects, "on a Thursday night? At a restaurant called The Westbury Club?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that, man?" Preston defends, and you know the switch has flipped.

"I just think it's interesting..." Spencer trails off, swirling his wine around in his glass. "Where do you have the money for poker that often?"

"What's it to you? Last I checked, I was talking with your girl," the sarcasm drips off of him, "so I'd back off if I were you." Preston makes himself appear larger, puffing his chest in a way that looks laughable in comparison to Spencer's cool demeanor.

"No, no, you're right..." Spencer trails off, a smile painting his lips. "Just wondering, is all."

You see his gaze focus on something across the restaurant, his brown eyes squinting the way they do when he's found something big. It's not long until he's tapping into his wire, "Rossi, now."

He does his best to stay quiet, but it still pulls a, "What's a Rossi?" from Preston.

Spencer's eyes roll as the team busts into the restaurant, you whip towards the entrance to finally see what Spencer's been looking at. It's tiny, so minuscule that you're shocked Spencer caught it. A tiny bag of a certain powdery white substance dangles in between Rossi's fingers. Emily collects piles of white envelopes shoved under the table, thick wads of cash in each one of them.

"Drugs, really?" Spencer asks, sarcasm lacing his tone as he cuffs Preston with a little more force than necessary. You don't say anything. "We knew we had you on extortion. Maybe even murder. But drugs? I thought you'd be smarter than that."

The venom drips from Spencer's tongue as he walks him out, an iron grip on Preston's bound wrists. You'd never been so happy to see him in handcuffs.

"You can't charge me, you don't have anything, I'll call my lawyer!" Preston protests, all while Spencer talks over him, reading his Miranda Rights with a force you can only describe as incredibly sexy.

Rossi catches your gaze from the doorway of the restaurant, immediately clocking the way you're staring at Spencer. He chuckles, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance.

"Finally," you hear him murmur under his breath as he turns to leave.

You snap out of your Spencer-induced haze when the flash of cameras shine through the windows of the restaurant. You scurry over to the cameras, expertly answering questions as succinctly as possible. You see him from the corner of your eye, though, leaned up against the cop car he undoubtedly shoved your ex into. You can't help but meet his gaze, a coy smile hopefully conveying everything you've thought this whole night.

Spencer can't remember the last time he'd been in a situation so...tense. Every time an unsub had taken him, the time he spent in prison, none of it measures to the nerves pulsing through him as he drives her, and only her, back to their hotel.

"Hey," she calls out softly, a tentative hand reaching his thigh, "you did great today. I don't know how you spotted that bag. I would've completely missed it."

His heart stops at the gesture, her words along with it have the power to knock him out completely. He moves one hand to cover hers, and his brain goes fuzzy at the size difference.

"You're too hard on yourself. You were better than I was. You led the entire mission," it's nearly a whisper as it tumbles from his lips, the moment feeling entirely too intimate.

They pull up to a stop sign, tense silence settling over them. It blankets them in a thick warmth, almost suffocating. Then, on pure adrenaline, Spencer makes a decision he normally never would. He makes a right, instead of a left.

"Spencer?" she inquires, "this isn't the way back to the hotel."

He curses himself for thinking he'd fool her at all, that she wouldn't figure him out immediately.

"It's just a little detour. Do you trust me?"

She eyes him skeptically, and he curses men like Preston who have ever made her feel distrusting. She nods, though, and he feels like he's won the lottery.

They pull up to the parking lot of Herring Cove Beach, a large sign greeting them on their way in. He wastes no time exiting the car, running over to the passenger side to get hers.

"Spencer?" She inquires, taking his hand to step out of the car. "You're taking me back to the dump site?" humor laces her tone, and he shakes his head slightly.

"It's not just the dump site, is it?" Spencer asks, his voice low, his heart thrumming in his ears. This could all be a huge mistake, a huge misreading and he could be humiliated in a few seconds' time. Seeing her stand there, her heels in her hand, her dress hugging her in ways that's sinful, he takes the plunge.

She chuckles, a breathy laugh laced with nerves. "I grew up here," her voice is nostalgic, soft in a way that he can't resist. He laces his fingers with hers, exactly the way he did in the restaurant.

"I thought you'd want to come see it one more time. Not as a dump site," his voice is low, nervous still.

Her lips purse as she looks at him skeptically, though this time humor shines through. "You and Penelope spying on me?"

A laugh can't help but escape, pushing out of his lungs as if he'd have a choice. "Maybe something like that."

"Oh, yeah?" she teases, her own laugh breaking through, and God. He could spend the rest of his life listening to that sound and that sound alone.

"Yeah..." he trails, another silence settling over them.

She pulls his hand that rests in hers, marching them towards the shoreline. She plops down on the sand without second thought, and laughs when he looks at her sideways.

"Old habits die hard, huh?" she teases, and he laughs before relenting. He can buy another suit. The waves accompany this new silence now. She watches the moon as it rises over the water. He watches her.

"Spencer..." she mutters, and his heart picks up in speed. "I was hoping you were okay earlier. You'd been acting distant, off, since we touched down in Mass."

His heart clutches at the fact that she was worried about him, that she even noticed. He debates on what to say to her for a moment. He's made it this far, though. He might as well go for it all the way.

"I was jealous." It's matter of fact, and she whips her head to face him.

"Jealous? Don't tell me you were jealous of Preston, Spencer. He cheated on me with my best friend," she scoffs. His eyes go wide. She mentions it like it's no big deal, like it's not something that has tilted Spencer's earth on its axis.

He shakes his head, a pathetic laugh spilling over his lips. "I guess I had a hard time accepting that you shared so much with someone so...awful. You deserve more than that."

"Yes, I do. Thank you for noticing," she nudges his shoulder with hers, and it's his heart's final straw.

"I think I have feelings for you." It's low, he's not even sure he's said it until she says it back.

"You think, or you know?" She asks softly.

"I know."

She smiles, then. It's sweet, and makes his heart sing.

"I have feelings for you too, Spencer. Ever since we first met." Her confession rocks him. "I think the whole team has waited for us to do this. Rossi caught me staring at you when you were walking Preston out, muttered something like 'finally'."

He chuckles at that, and she buries her face into his bicep. He needs to feel more of her immediately, or he'll combust. It's science.

His hands wrap around her wrist, pulling her into him fully. Her giggles pick up, then, and he can feel the heat radiating off her face.

"Spencer!" she squeals, giggles punctuating each syllable. Her nose grazes his, and he feels the last of his resolve crumble. His hands cup her jaw as his lips slot over hers. The surprised moan against his lips makes his head spin.

She rests her hands on his shoulders, her fingers curling at the base of his neck. He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to let her take all of him that she wants.

His hands drift to her waist, pulling her in so her plush chest presses into his. It makes him dizzy. He deepens the kiss even more, as if it's possible. The crash of the waves along the shore accompanies them as her body twists into his, fitting like a puzzle piece.

When she comes up for air, it's like his heart has been snatched clean out. Her lips are plump, glossy and swollen, eyes glossed over, a dazed look in her eye.

"Hey, Spencer?" she asks, and it's so flirty that he nearly melts.

"Yeah?" he whispers, nudging his nose along her cheek, down her neck. She shivers and he revels in it, holding her body tighter under his large palms.

"I really like you," she says, burying her face in his neck as if her words don't knock the absolute wind out of him.

Their phones buzz between them, a bucket of cold water over their heated moment.

"Oh, God," she groans, "do you think we've been found out?" Her voice is excited, like they're sneaking around from overbearing parents. He nearly crumbles.

"Seems like it," Spencer notes, his cheeks heating up as he looks at his phone.

Emily: We've been waiting by the plane for 10 minutes. Both your bags are packed. You got a lot of explaining to do ;)

Spencer no doubt flushes the shade of a tomato, but her laugh makes it all worth it. He presses one more quick kiss to her plump lips before helping her out of the sand, and back to a team who will no doubt have a million questions. She’s completely worth it.

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Proposal Headcanons for Task Force 141 + Graves

Soap

Soap cannot play it cool. The man tries, but the moment he realizes he wants to marry you, it takes approximately 36 hours before he blurts it out mid-date, mid-bite, mid-everything.

“I love you. You love me. Let’s just do it, yeah? Marry me. Right now. I’ll steal a ring if I have to.”

You think he’s joking—until he pulls out an actual ring box from his cargo pocket. It’s dented. A little dirty. But the ring inside? Stunning. Soap actually planned ahead but couldn’t contain himself long enough for the ‘perfect moment.’

He kisses you before you even say yes, whispering, “You’re gonna be the death of me… but what a way to go.”

He doesn’t even make it to the bedroom.

The moment you say yes, he tackles you onto the couch, hands everywhere, breathless laughter between frantic kisses. His mouth is on your neck, mumbling, “You said yes—you said yes, I’m gonna ruin you for the next three days.”

He gets downright feral. Clothes ripped off, ring glinting as he grips your hips and mutters filthy praise in your ear. “Say it again. C’mon, sweetheart, say you’re gonna be my wife—while I’m deep inside you.”

You’re so sore the next morning you can barely stand. He carries you to the shower, grinning the entire time.

Gaz

Gaz puts in work. He’s low-key about it, but he plans the proposal down to the smallest detail: your favorite place, the perfect playlist, the exact time the light hits just right.

He gives a small speech about all the things he loves about you—your laugh, your stubbornness, how you make coffee wrong but he drinks it anyway—and then casually drops to one knee like he’s done it in his head a thousand times.

“You don’t make sense with anyone else. You make sense with me. And I want that for the rest of my life.”

You’re a mess. He’s a mess. Even the waiter cries.

He starts slow. Intense eye contact. Whispering thank you against your lips as he slips the ring on your finger and lays you down like you’re sacred.

But once his lips are on your skin? He loses control.

Gaz eats you out like he’s starved, murmuring, “My fiancée tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” between strokes of his tongue. You’re trembling before he even gets his pants off.

And when he finally pushes inside? It’s deep. Slow. A claim.

“I’m gonna make you feel me for days,” he breathes, forehead to yours, hips rolling with purpose. “This is how your husband loves you.”

Ghost

Ghost doesn’t plan to propose. Not because he doesn’t want to—it’s because he’s terrified. Of losing you. Of not being enough. Of messing it up.

But then one night, he wakes up after a nightmare and sees you asleep, soft and peaceful beside him… and it hits him. He needs to make sure you never leave.

Next morning? He slips a ring onto your finger while you’re still sleeping. Sits beside the bed, just watching.

You wake up to him staring at your hand, expression unreadable.

“Hope that’s alright,” he says softly. “Didn’t think I could get through asking without losin’ my nerve.”

It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him—and the most sure he’s ever been.

You see a side of Ghost no one else ever has.

Once you say yes, the mask comes off—literally and figuratively. He holds your face, kisses you like he’s drowning, and when he lays you down, it’s pure worship.

But when he’s inside you? All that control breaks.

Rough thrusts. Low growls. Hands gripping your thighs like he needs you to anchor him.

“You’re mine now,” he rasps, voice cracking. “Gonna fuck you until that ring rattles on your finger.”

After? He buries his face in your neck and whispers, “My wife. Mine. Mine.” Over and over like a prayer.

Price

Price goes traditional—old-school, respectful, completely heart-melting. He asks your parents (imagine his old ass asking your parents LMAO (he's only 37)), he wears a suit, he brings you somewhere meaningful.

He drops to one knee with total conviction. Eyes steady. Hands only slightly shaking.

“You’ve stood by me through everything. And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life giving you everything I’ve got left.”

It’s not flashy. It’s intimate. He looks you in the eye like a man who already sees your whole life together—and you say yes before he even opens the box.

Bonus: He tears up. Silently. And tries to hide it with a “Might be dusty out here.”

He pours a glass of champagne, gives a toast to Mrs. Price-to-be, and then takes you to bed like a gentleman…

…until he’s got you pinned under him, writhing, one hand wrapped around your throat just enough to make you whimper.

“This is what forever looks like,” he growls, sliding in with maddening control. “You wanna be mine? You better be ready to take every fuckin’ inch of me.”

He makes love like a man with something to prove—and he proves it again. And again. And again.

After? He smokes a cigar with your head on his chest, murmuring, “Next time, I’m bending you over the vows.”

Phillip Graves

Graves turns the proposal into a production. Champagne, string quartet, five-star dinner, and probably a drone flying a banner overhead.

He gives a speech in front of everyone. A loud one. “This woman right here? She’s the best thing I ever got my hands on—and I’m damn sure not letting her go.”

He definitely drops to one knee in slow motion. Probably has a photographer hiding in a bush. Maybe two.

The ring? Custom-made. Probably with your initials engraved inside. He flashes that smug grin and says, “You didn’t think I was gonna do this halfway, did you?”

After you say yes, he yells “She said YES!” like it’s a victory and kisses you like he just won a Super Bowl.

Graves worships you that night like a man obsessed. Pours champagne over your chest just so he can lick it off. Tells you exactly what he’s gonna do with his wife in every room of the house.

“Gonna fuck you in silk sheets and marble floors, darlin’,” he purrs. “You think the ring’s nice? Wait till you see what I do with this body.”

Takes his time ruining you. Bent over the bed. Face down on the counter. On your knees in the living room.

Every time he makes you come, he taps the ring and says, “Mine now. And I’m never lettin’ go.”

[shybluebirdninja]

Clawsome Dad

Summary: When Logan mistakenly thinks you’re pregnant (you're not), he gets way too excited about baby names and starts building a baby-proof bunker in the backyard.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Wife!Human-reader

Note                : fluff

It all started with Logan catching you looking at a baby onesie at the store—once. You didn’t even touch the thing, just smiled at it for like, two seconds before moving on to the checkout. But that was enough for Logan. His superhuman reflexes missed nothing. You hadn’t even gotten through the door before he had this weird look on his face—half intense, half like he was about to tear through the drywall with his claws.

“Babe?” he asked, voice low, as if he were interrogating a witness. “Is there somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

You blinked at him, setting down the groceries. “Uh… no?”

Logan stepped closer, sniffing the air around you. You rolled your eyes. This man and his feral senses. “You’re sure? Nothin’... different?” he pressed, like he was waiting for you to drop some major bombshell.

“I’m sure, Logan. What’s with the third degree? Did I do something?” you asked, confused.

Then it hit you. His eyes flickered to your stomach, and you nearly choked.

Oh hell no.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you held up your hand, waving off the insanity that was clearly brewing in his head. “I am not pregnant.”

Logan frowned, not entirely convinced. “But you were lookin’ at that baby crap in the store—”

“I looked at a onesie for two seconds, Logan! It was cute, that’s all! Doesn’t mean I’m knockin’ out kids tomorrow!” you laughed, but the man didn’t seem amused.

“No baby?” he repeated, brows knitting together like he wasn’t entirely sure you knew how your own body worked.

“NO baby, Logan. Geez,” you reiterated, shaking your head, but the damage was already done.

Over the next couple of days, things got weird. He started acting real strange—asking you about baby names out of nowhere while you were brushing your teeth.

“Thoughts on ‘James Jr.’?” he muttered casually, mid-toothbrush stroke.

You spat out toothpaste, staring at him through the mirror. “James Jr.? Are you serious?”

Logan shrugged. “Seems practical. What, you don’t like it?”

“I—Logan, we are not naming a non-existent kid right now. Where’s this comin’ from?” You were barely containing your laughter. The man could take down an entire squad of bad guys without breaking a sweat, but the idea of potential parenthood had him spiraling into this dad mode that was both terrifying and hilarious.

The worst of it came when you caught him in the backyard, shirtless, sweat dripping, hammering away at something… with adamantium claws fully out. It was definitely not a normal Saturday activity, even for Logan.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, hands on your hips as you watched him drive metal sheets into the ground like a crazed man.

“Buildin’ a bunker,” he replied gruffly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“A what?”

“A baby-proof bunker. Ain’t no kid of mine growin’ up in a death trap house,” Logan muttered, slamming another panel into place. “This world’s dangerous, and that’s just the neighbors.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You—what? Baby-proof… Logan, we don’t even have a baby.”

Logan stopped hammering for a second, looking at you like you were the one missing something here. “But we might, right? Gotta be prepared.”

You slapped your forehead, trying not to lose it. “Prepared for what? An apocalypse where the baby needs a bunker to survive? Babe, seriously, there’s no baby. You don’t need to go full Rambo on the backyard.”

“I’m always prepared,” he grumbled, but there was a glint of uncertainty in his eyes. You could tell he wasn’t ready to back down, though. Logan was never the type to half-ass anything—especially not something he deemed necessary.

By now, the neighbors had definitely noticed. Old Mrs. Jenkins from next door was peeking over the fence with a terrified expression. She whispered something about Logan being a “madman,” which wasn’t entirely untrue in this case.

You sighed, walking up to him and grabbing the hammer from his hand. “Alright, Mr. Clawhammer, we’re done here. Come inside before you scare the rest of the neighborhood.”

Logan hesitated, claws still out. “But—”

“No buts, babe. Unless you’re ready to explain to Mrs. Jenkins why you’re preparing for baby Armageddon, you’re gonna stop now,” you said firmly, dragging him toward the house. “I swear, the last thing we need is for someone to call the cops on your baby-proofing bunker. We’re not even pregnant!”

He let out a gruff noise, retracting his claws with a reluctant snikt. “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked, still looking unconvinced as you pushed him through the door.

You smacked his arm lightly. “Yes, I’m sure. But if I ever do get pregnant, I’m not raising a kid in a damn underground fortress like we’re in some post-apocalyptic wasteland, got it?”

Logan smirked, the edge of his grumpy attitude softening. “Fine, no bunker. But I ain’t changin’ my mind on James Jr.”

“Ugh, you’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back with a cocky grin.

[littlelovelunette]

CAN U PLEASE DO A

Alpha sevika x omega reader AND READER IS IN HEAT PLEASEEE

I'm dying here, I don't like the Omegaverse all that much, I think it's exaggerated asf and cringe bc of Wattpad authors n shit 😭

In Heat

Contains smut, g!p Sevika, breeding

The moment Sevika steps into the bar, she smells it.

Something sweet, warm, and utterly intoxicating clings to the air, curling around her senses like a vice. It stops her dead in her tracks, pupils dilating as her instincts sharpen in an instant.

Her usual confidence wavers just slightly, enough for her to grit her teeth and clench her metallic fingers in a vicious fist.

An Omega. You.

Her Omega, her instincts snarl.

Of course, you aren’t hers. Not yet, at least. But that doesn’t stop the primal, deep-seated growl that rumbles in her chest as she follows the scent, her body moving before her mind can catch up.

The dim lighting of the bar does little to hide the way you slump against the counter, skin dewy with heat, lips parted as if gasping for air.

It’s subtle, the way your fingers grip the edge of the wood, knuckles paling as you try to steady yourself. But Sevika sees it all. She sees the way your body trembles ever so slightly, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your thighs press together in a way that makes her own breath hitch.

You’re in heat.

It hits her like a freight train, the need to claim, to protect, to satisfy.

She forces herself to move slowly, to not pounce on you like every part of her body is urging her to do.

She’s still an Alpha, but she’s not some feral beast—she won’t take without permission, won’t act without control.

Even if the way you smell right now makes her want to. Sevika won't, her resolve is stronger than that.

She slides onto the stool beside you, leaning in just enough that you’ll feel the warmth of her presence, the sheer size of her compared to you. Her voice, deep and edged with something rough, something primal, rumbles out low.

“You should be home right now, little Omega.”

Your breath hitches. Slowly, you turn your head towards her, blinking up at her with those wide, heat-dazed eyes.

And fuck—you’re beautiful like that.

Soft. Vulnerable. Hers, if she wanted.

And God, does she want.

“I’m—” You swallow hard, hands gripping your own thighs as if trying to steady yourself. “I’m fine.”

Sevika chuckles, dark and low, eyes flicking over you like she can see the way you’re struggling to hold yourself together. You’re shaking. Your scent is clouding the air around her, wrapping around her like chains, sinking into her lungs, into her bones. Into her very being.

You’re anything but fine.

“You’re burning up,” she murmurs, her voice dropping as she leans in just slightly, close enough that your scent is all she can breathe. “I can smell it. Everyone in this damn bar can smell it.”

You stiffen at that, lower lip caught between your teeth. There’s a flicker of something like fear in your eyes, and it stirs something violent in Sevika. No one else gets to look at you like that. No one else gets to smell you like this.

Only her.

And fuck—you want her. She can feel it. In the way your body leans toward her ever so slightly, in the way your fingers flex against the bar top, in the way your breath catches when she speaks.

Her mechanical hand flexes, long metallic fingers drumming slowly against the wood of the bar.

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

Your breath comes out shaky, body swaying toward her before you catch yourself.

You squeeze your eyes shut, exhaling through your nose, and when you speak, your voice is nearly a whisper.

It felt truly pathetic to be like this and you don't know if you could trust, she is after all who she is and you are aware of notorious reputation. But you have been heat for so long (it hasn't even been that long but it feels like it) that it was somehow physically hurting you.

“You.”

Sevika inhales sharply through her nose.

Fuck.

That one word nearly shatters the fragile restraint she’s barely holding onto. Her little bit of ego, little bit of pride.

Her chest swells, her instincts roaring in triumph, in possession. But still, she waits, gaze steady on you, watching for any hesitation, any doubt.

She finds none.

Instead, you’re looking up at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters. Like you need her more than air, more than anything.

And fuck if she isn’t about to give you everything.

She stands, looming over you, and when she speaks, her voice is a promise, a command, a claim.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

And you don’t hesitate. You follow.

Because in this moment, she’s the only one who can give you what you need.

And she intends to.

Sevika makes sure you know that because the moment you step into her house you are greeted with the aura of something dangerous, something so untamed you were sure it would rip you in half, but you'd let it. Wouldn't you?

She pins you to the wall, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your thighs. Her flesh fingers and metal fingers barely had any difference in force, if anything they were the same. But you assumed she had gotten used to her prosthetic.

The next time Sevika speaks to you, her voice is more lowered than usual, it was a rasp, a very needy rasp. "You want me to fuck you, don't you? To really mess up that cunt of yours and keep going until you're just a hopeless, pathetic, brain rotten mess. But you'd enjoy that."

You gasp as Sevika's bulge rubs over your clothed pussy, "Oh you feel that?" You whined and nodded needily grinding back at her bulge.

"Need it, big dick inside please..." You pleaded so pathetically you could've mentally slapped yourself but right then your needs mattered the most. You were so horny it almost hurt.

"You're so cock drunk before it's even in," Sevika commented however she did push you against the bed and slowly trailed her fingertips over your thighs.

"Please, daddy, I can't wait any longer," you whispered, Sevika's hands palmed at your clothes, pulling at them almost desperately. She pulled your clothes off slowly but by the time she reached your undergarments she couldn't hold back anymore and ripped them apart with feral need.

"Sure 'bout that? Sevika growled. "You'll be able to handle me?"

"Daddy, please," you moaned in her ear making Sevika shiver a little but she didn't hold back, unzipping her pants and instantly stuffing her cock inside your aching cunt.

"Oh my gosh!" You cried out as Sevika grabbed your waist and started pounding in your so roughly that the bed creaked in protest against her ramming. It was almost violent, her grip bruising your skin as she continued her relentless thrusting.

"Daddy! Daddy!" You screamed for all of the world to hear as your back arched and fingers tangled, one in her hair and the other in the bedsheets. With every thrust your tits jiggled, giving Sevika a view to enjoy as her thrusts continued to target your poor g-spot.

You barely could catch your breath because of her intense speed.

"Yeah, you like that?" Sevika taunted, her pace unaltered as she continued to abuse your clenching, wet hole. Your hands shot up and you tried to hold her close the best you could.

"Bet you're already close. Little slut," Sevika slapped your tits before one hand grabbed your throat, forcing you to look at her despite the utterly pathetic state you were in. There was drool and tears running down your face as your eyes lolled in the sockets, brain fucked into a complete mush.

"I am, daddy, I am," you managed to breathe out as your abdomen tensed, ready for the impending orgasm about to rip through you.

"I'm gonna bust a good fuckin' load in you," Sevika panted in your ear, biting down on the side of your neck.

"Yes, please!"

With one last slam she came as did you. Her load filled you up nice and warm making you gasp and scratch at her back.

It was a foreign sensation but nothing you would hate. It was quite nice actually.

[minxmut-cafe]

BEARLY CONTAINED

Pairing : Bear hybrid Namjoon x Ferret hybrid reader (established relationship)

Word count : 5.7 k words

Warning : smut, oral sex (f receiving), Sexual intercourse, vaginal penetration, inappropriate uses of honey, food kink, Namjoon being high, rough sex, mating press, knotting, animalistic behaviour, huge size difference, pussy spanking, fingering, feral Namjoon.

Authors note : Hello everyone I'm back from the little break I took. I'm sorry I haven't been posting much :/, two of my kittens died and multiple things have been going on in my personal life as well that have taken a huge toll on me, ofc that's not reason to abandon or neglect writing so I'll try to post more but it's really hard trying to focus when do many things are going on at once.

Synopsis : Namjoon decided to get high on honey and turn his pretty menace in a honey slick snack

You had always known Namjoon had a thing for honey. It made sense—he was a bear hybrid, after all.

So when he came home with a bag full of fresh honeycomb, you didn’t bat an eye. It was normal. Cute, even.

But what wasn’t normal…

Was the absolute feral way he was devouring it.

You watched in stunned horror as Namjoon sat on the floor, legs crossed, eyes half-lidded in bliss as he shoveled chunk after chunk of honeycomb into his mouth. His lips and fingers were glistening with honey, sticky trails running down his wrists, but he didn’t care. He was in the zone.

But then—then.

You saw him reach for the honey jar.

And you watched—in real-time horror—as he dipped a piece of honeycomb into more honey.

You gagged. “Oh my god, are you serious right now?”

Namjoon barely blinked at you before taking a slow, obscene bite, his jaw working as he chewed.

“What?” he mumbled, mouth full.

You stared at him like he had personally offended your entire bloodline. “You’re dipping honey in honey, Namjoon. That’s—” you shuddered, “—that’s some sick, twisted shit.”

Namjoon blinked. Licked his fingers. Took another bite. Moaned.

You dry-heaved. “OH MY GOD.”

Namjoon shrugged, utterly unbothered. “Let me have my moment.”

You pointed at him, voice shaking. “You’re disgusting.”

Namjoon only smirked, licking his lips. “You weren’t saying that last night.”

Your soul left your body.

You watched as Namjoon continued his absolute onslaught on the honeycomb, dipping each piece into even more honey before shoving it into his mouth like some kind of deranged addict.

At first, you were horrified. Then, you were repulsed.

Now?

Now you were concerned.

Because last time he went on a honey binge like this, he ended up glued to the toilet for an entire day, clutching his stomach and groaning in absolute misery.

You cleared your throat. "Uh, babe… you good?"

Namjoon barely spared you a glance as he shoved another dripping piece into his mouth. “Mhm.”

You squinted. His pupils looked a little… dilated.

“Are you… high?”

Namjoon hummed again, closing his eyes as he moaned around the honeycomb.

Your stomach turned.

You leaned in, whispering, “Babe. How much honey have you had?”

He licked his fingers and shrugged. “Dunno.”

Your eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Namjoon let out a deep, satisfied sigh, tipping his head back against the couch. “M’just… feelin’ good.”

Your alarm skyrocketed. You knew that bears could actually get high off certain types of honey. And judging by the absolute state of Namjoon right now…

You grabbed the honey jar and read the label. Your stomach dropped.

Mad Honey – Raw, Unfiltered, Wild Harvested

You slapped your forehead. Oh my god. He’s fucking drugged.

You grabbed the honey jar out of his hands, holding it out of reach. "Enough. No more honey for you."

Namjoon blinked up at you, dazed and sluggish, his sticky fingers still curled like he was expecting another piece to magically appear. His lips wobbled, his brows furrowed, and then—

He whimpered.

Your jaw dropped.

Namjoon, your giant, grizzly bear of a boyfriend, whimpered like a scolded puppy, looking at you like you had just taken away his only source of happiness.

You stared at him, aghast. "Did you just—"

Namjoon blinked again, slow and confused, like even he didn't realize the sound came from him.

You took a step back, pointing a shaking finger. "You're cut off. No more honey."

Namjoon's ears flattened. "B-But—"

Oh, hell no.

You crossed your arms. "No ‘buts.’ You remember what happened last time, right?"

Namjoon pouted, looking far too soft and pathetic for someone who could bench press a car. "That was different."

You deadpanned. "You shit your soul out for twelve hours straight, Joon."

He grumbled, slumping over dramatically. "You're so mean to me."

You rolled your eyes. "You'll thank me later."

Namjoon huffed, eyes fluttering closed like he was dozing off mid-sulk. His big body sagged against the couch, syrupy and slow, his honey-covered lips parting with a dreamy sigh.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. Great. Now you had to deal with a high, sulky, whimpering bear.

Namjoon was still sprawled against the couch, heavy-lidded and syrup-slow, when his brows furrowed in deep thought. Then—like a lightbulb had gone off in his honey-drunk mind—his face lit up.

You immediately narrowed your eyes. "Why do you look like you're about to make a very bad decision?"

Namjoon blinked at you, lips curling into a slow, lazy smile. "Baby."

Your stomach flipped. That tone of voice never meant anything good.

"What?"

He reached for you, big hands warm as they slid up your thighs. "Lemme cover you in honey and lick it off."

You stared. Hard.

Then, you smacked his hands away. "See, that would be a normal request if you weren’t a whole-ass fiend."

Namjoon just grinned. "C’mon, just a little."

"No."

"Why not?" He leaned in, voice dipping low, lips brushing your jaw.

"Because you’re literally—" Your breath hitched as his tongue flicked against your pulse. "—on something right now."

Namjoon hummed against your neck. "I just think you’d taste good covered in honey."

Your fingers twitched. You were so weak. So, so weak.

"Joon—"

"Shh," he soothed, mouth trailing soft, sticky kisses up your throat.

Your resolve cracked.

Your fingers fisted his hoodie, trying to push him away, but he was warm and solid and licking you, and oh, that was a very good decision on his part.

You sighed, tilting your head to the side. "Just a little."

Namjoon smirked. "Mhm."

Yeah, you were so screwed.

you knew you were really screwed the moment Namjoon grabbed a fresh box of honeycomb and tossed it onto the bed like some grand offering.

Even more so when he hauled you up like you weighed nothing, slinging you over his shoulder as he carried you to the bedroom like a damn ragdoll.

"Namjoon—"

"Shh, sweetheart," he cooed, patting your ass like you were a petulant little thing.

Your brain short-circuited. Oh, this menace.

By the time he gently plopped you onto the mattress, you were torn between fighting for your dignity and letting him do whatever the hell he wanted. (That smirk on his face? It told you he already knew which way you'd lean.)

Namjoon cracked his knuckles, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Alright, baby—" He popped open the honeycomb box with practiced ease. "Let’s get you nice and sweet."

The second Namjoon told you to strip, you obeyed without question.

Because, let’s be honest—take-charge Namjoon? A rarity. A once-in-a-blue-moon phenomenon. And it was so, so, so hot.

You barely shimmied out of your clothes before he was on you, looming like a beast with one thing on his mind. His glasses had been tossed somewhere (a shame, really, because hot and commanding plus glasses? Whew), and his big, calloused hands were already palming the honeycomb.

You were ready—expecting teasing licks, slow drizzles of honey over your stomach, maybe even a cheeky little suck on your fingers.

But no.

Namjoon squeezed the honeycomb.

Directly over your boobs.

Cold, thick, golden honey dripped in heavy globs, plopping onto your skin with an almost offensive schlop.

"NAMJOON—!"

He blinked. Innocently. As if he didn’t just turn your chest into a goddamn honey-glazed feast.

"What?" he asked, brows furrowed, genuinely confused at your outrage.

You gawked at him. "What do you mean, ‘what’?! Do you see what you just did?!"

Namjoon definitely saw what he just did. His entire face lit up as he stared at your sticky, glistening skin like you were some kind of delicacy.

"Mmh," he hummed, grinning, "yeah. I see."

Oh, you were so doomed.

Before you could even process the mess he’d made, Namjoon doubled down.

With both hands, he smeared the honey across your skin, rubbing it in like some kind of primal body oil. His massive palms dragged over your stomach, your thighs, your everything, leaving no part untouched.

"NAMJOON!" you screeched, half-laughing, half-mortified as his fingers kneaded into your hips, your waist, your—oh my god.

He was grinning, completely unbothered, absolutely delighted with himself.

"Shh, baby," he murmured, leaning down. His lips ghosted over yours, breath warm and way too smug. "I’m making sure it’s evenly distributed."

Before you could curse him out, he kissed you.

Hard.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was the way his sticky hands groped you, squeezing your honey-covered skin like he owned it. Like he had all the time in the world to knead and stroke and tease, mapping your body like he was committing every inch to memory.

His thumb flicked over your nipple, and you whimpered—half from the sensation, half from the goddamn honey making everything ten times warmer and messier.

Namjoon chuckled against your lips, low and satisfied.

"You’re so sweet, baby," he mused, nipping at your jaw. "I could eat you up."

…And judging by the way he descended on you next, you had no doubt he was about to do exactly that.

Before you could even recover from the onslaught of sticky kisses and groping, Namjoon reached for the honeycomb again.

You barely had time to process before he gave it another firm squeeze, watching as the golden nectar drizzled onto your already-glazed skin.

"Joonie," you panted, half-heartedly swatting at his wrist. "Sweetie You’re making a mess—"

"Mhm." His hum was completely unrepentant as he dipped his fingers into the fresh honey, coating them thoroughly before bringing them between your thighs.

Your breath hitched.

Namjoon smirked.

"Let’s see how sweet you really are, baby."

And then, without warning, he used those same honey-slicked fingers to spread you apart—slow, deliberate, letting the warm, sticky sensation sink into your skin before he pressed in.

The stretch was torturous, the slow slide making you gasp as the honey only made everything more intense—more messy, more heated, more overwhelming.

"Shit," Namjoon groaned, watching the way you took him, the way his fingers disappeared inside you with an obscene, honey-slick sound. His free hand tightened on your thigh, gripping hard enough to leave a mark.

"Fuck, baby," he rasped. "Look at you—dripping and messy, all for me."

His thumb brushed against your clit, making you jolt, and he just grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in another filthy, honey-sweet kiss.

Namjoon groaned as his tongue dragged over your honey-slick skin, starting at your throat and working his way down. He was thorough—painstakingly slow—his mouth hot and wet as he licked you clean.

Every kiss, every bite sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. And he wasn’t just taking his time—he was savoring you, humming deep in his chest like he’d never tasted something so good.

"Joon," you gasped when he sucked at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, your back arching as a wave of heat surged through you.

His only response was a deep chuckle against your skin, his fingers curling inside you at the same time his palm rubbed against your clit.

The pressure was insane, the way his broad hand pressed against you, rolling his palm just enough to have your thighs shaking around him.

"You’re so messy, baby," he murmured against your collarbone before dragging his tongue lower, dipping between the valley of your breasts. "So fucking sweet."

And then—he bit down, just enough to make you yelp, before soothing it with his tongue, his fingers still pumping into you, still keeping that relentless pressure on your clit.

You were done for.

Namjoon groaned as he dragged his tongue down, his breath hot against your sticky, honey-coated skin. His favorite part of you—so soft, so fucking perfect—was right in front of him, and he wasn’t about to hold back.

His lips latched onto one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the already sensitive bud before he sucked, hard.

"J-Joon—!" Your back arched as pleasure shot straight down your spine, your hands flying to his hair, tugging—but it only spurred him on.

He moaned against your chest, his big hands cupping your breasts, squeezing them together as he left hickey after hickey, marking you up like he was claiming you.

Each kiss, each bite was relentless, his teeth scraping just enough to make your breath hitch before his tongue soothed the sting. Your nipples were already puffy and raw, but he didn't stop.

If anything, he got greedier, alternating between your breasts, flicking his tongue over your swollen nipples before sucking them deep into his mouth.

"You’re so fucking sweet," he groaned, his voice wrecked as he buried his face between your breasts, his tongue lapping at the honey. "Can’t get enough of you."

And then—his fingers tightened on your waist, his hips grinding into yours as he growled, his cock pressing hard against your thigh.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, looking up at you with dark, hunger-filled eyes, his lips shiny with honey and spit. "I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet."

It was honestly concerning—and so fucking hot—to see Namjoon like this.

He was always so careful with you, so gentle, like he was afraid he’d break you if he so much as breathed too hard in your direction. But now?

Now he was feral.

His glasses were long forgotten, his hair messy from your fingers pulling at it, his lips shiny with honey and spit, and his eyes—fuck, his eyes—were dark with pure, unfiltered hunger.

"Joon," you gasped as he pinched your already swollen nipple, rolling it between his fingers before soothing it with his tongue. His other hand was still rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit, and it was making you squirm.

"You’re always so eager," he murmured against your chest, his voice thick with amusement and arousal. "So desperate. You love this, don’t you?"

Your breath hitched—not just from his words but from the way he ground his cock against you, hard.

"You're one to talk," you shot back, trying to sound defiant, but it came out as a whimper instead when he suddenly pushed his fingers inside you, stretching you with that same slow, teasing pace.

Namjoon chuckled, his deep voice vibrating against your skin. "Maybe," he admitted, curling his fingers just right to make you gasp. "But at least I’m not the one who’s already dripping all over my hand."

He was so smug. So cocky. And you should have been annoyed.

But you weren’t.

Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like that.

Not when he was finally—finally—letting go.

He kissed and sucked lower and lower, leaving no spot untouched, no inch of skin left unmarked. His tongue traced every curve, every dip, worshiping you with slow, deliberate drags of his mouth.

And then—

Then he finally reached his heaven.

Namjoon groaned, deep and needy, his breath hot against your slick folds as he spread you open with his thumbs. His grip was firm, his hands still sticky with honey, and the contrast of warmth and cool air made you shudder.

"Fuck," he rasped, his voice wrecked. "So pretty."

He didn’t waste a second.

His mouth latched onto you like he was starving, tongue pressing flat before curling just right, dragging slow, lazy circles around your clit before dipping lower. His nose nudged against you as he devoured you, humming like he was tasting the sweetest honeycomb in the world.

And maybe—maybe—to him, you were.

Your fingers flew to his hair, tangling in the strands as your thighs trembled against his broad shoulders. But Namjoon wasn’t having it.

He growled—low, deep, possessive—before throwing your legs over his shoulders and pulling you closer, until there was no escaping the relentless, messy way he ate you out.

"J-Joon—!" you choked out, the overstimulation making you arch, your body a livewire under his touch.

He only moaned in response, his grip tightening as he flicked his tongue faster, hungrier, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you were begging—until you were a writhing, panting mess beneath him.

Namjoon was utterly feral.

He didn’t even need his hands—he just buried his face between your thighs and devoured you. Messy. Sloppy. Loud. The obscene slurping noises mixed with his deep, satisfied groans made your entire body burn.

The only time he used his hands was to grab another chunk of honeycomb, squeezing it over your skin, letting the golden nectar drip and pool between your legs before he licked it up like he was dying for it.

"Joon—!" Your breath hitched as he moaned into you, the vibrations making your toes curl.

His tongue worked you over ruthlessly, alternating between slow, deep drags and fast flicks, never giving you a moment to breathe. He was so into it, so consumed, so gone in the taste of you mixed with honey that you swore he wasn’t even thinking anymore.

Just acting on pure instinct.

Your hands fisted in his hair, but he ignored you, too busy lapping up every drop of honey and slick, groaning like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Namjoon was obsessed.

He used his fingers to spread you apart, watching intently as the honey and slick mixed together, making an absolute mess of you. His breath was hot against your sensitive skin, and then—fuck—he pressed his tongue inside, trying to reach as deep as he could.

The stretch was nothing compared to what he usually gave you, but the sensation? The feeling of his wet, warm tongue pushing in, curling, licking you from the inside? It had your thighs trembling.

"J-Joonie—oh my god—"

His deep groan vibrated against you, sending shockwaves up your spine. He was so into it, so gone, his fingers tightening on your thighs as if he couldn’t get enough. He licked, sucked, and fucked you with his tongue, dragging more of the sticky honey over your folds, making sure there wasn’t a single inch of you left untouched.

And the worst part? You could hear how much he was enjoying himself—soft, muffled moans between every stroke of his tongue, as if he was the one getting off on this.

Namjoon didn’t even warn you.

One second, you were flat on your back, drowning in the sensation of his tongue, and the next—you were flipped over, knees sinking into the mattress, ass up, his big hands spreading you apart.

He groaned at the sight, low and guttural, before burying his face right back in.

"J-Joon—fuck—"

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, desperate to ground yourself, but it was too much. The way he squeezed and groped at your ass, the obscene way he kissed your clit, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before fucking back into you—it had you shaking.

And when he moaned—actually moaned against you, lost in his own hunger—that was it. Your vision blurred, your back arched, and you came hard, spilling over his tongue, soaking his lips and chin.

But Namjoon?

He just groaned again, gripping you tighter, and kept going.

Namjoon had never done this for so long before.

Sure, he’d eaten you out before—thoroughly, at that. But this? This was something else. Something almost primal.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. He just kept going, dragging you through one orgasm, then another, until your legs were trembling and your throat was raw from crying out.

"J-Joon—please, I—"

You couldn’t even finish the sentence. Your body was shaking, overwhelmed, every nerve fried from the intensity. But Namjoon? He only hummed against you, the vibrations sending another sharp jolt through your spine.

His hands squeezed your ass, spreading you wider as his tongue fucked into you again, and you whimpered, nearly collapsing into the sheets.

You could feel his breath against your skin when he finally pulled back, lips shiny with your slick and the remnants of honey.

"One more." His voice was low, rough, almost a growl. "Give me one more, baby."

And fuck—how could you ever tell him no?

Namjoon was gone.

The moment he pulled back, his lips were still wet, his face flushed, and his glasses slightly fogged. But none of that compared to the way he looked at you—hungry, desperate, completely fucked out before he’d even gotten inside you.

Still in his daze, he flipped you, grabbed your thighs and hauled them up, pressing your knees to your chest as he settled between them, his favorite position—the one that let him see everything, that let him fold you into him like you were made to fit there.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he shoved his boxers down, and—fuck.

His cock slapped against your swollen clit, dragging slick and honey along your folds as he rocked against you. And then—he moaned.

Deep, needy, utterly wrecked.

You stared, brain short-circuiting.

"Did you just—?"

Namjoon groaned again, grinding against you like he was starving. His brows furrowed, his hips twitching, his voice almost whiny.

"Fuck—need you—"

Your stomach dropped.

Holy shit.

Namjoon gritted his teeth, his massive hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep you in place. His cock dragged against your slick folds, smearing a mix of honey and arousal over your skin as he rutted against you, barely holding himself back.

His chest heaved as he forced himself to slow down, to check—to be sure. You were already so stretched from his fingers, your hole still twitching from the onslaught of his tongue. But he knew his size. Knew his girth. And if he didn’t take his time, he could hurt you.

Still panting, he dragged his fingers through the mess between your legs, gently pressing two back inside, then three—watching how easily they slid in, how your walls clenched around them, already desperate for more.

"Shit—" His voice was rough, gravelly, wrecked.

You whined, shifting, trying to grind down, trying to take more—but Namjoon held you still, barely keeping control. His cock throbbed against your stomach, impossibly thick, his knot already swelling at the base in anticipation.

"You're ready," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Fuck—you're so ready for me, aren’t you?"

His fingers pulled out, leaving you empty—only for the fat tip of his cock to press against your entrance, teasing, stretching you just enough to make your breath hitch.

Namjoon looked up, locking eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide, his lips parted, his whole body trembling with restraint.

"Last chance," he breathed. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

Like hell you would.

Your answer was immediate. A sharp whine, your hips jerking up to chase the blunt head of his cock. As if you’d ever tell him to stop.

Namjoon chuckled, the deep rumble sending a shiver down your spine. His large hand smoothed over your thigh, warm and grounding—before suddenly slapping your clit.

You yelped, body jolting, but the sting melted into pleasure so quickly it made your head spin.

"So needy," he murmured, thumbing over your clit in slow, taunting circles. "So desperate for my cock, huh? You really want me to stretch this pretty pussy out?"

You whined, nodding frantically, grabbing at his wrist, at anything.

He hummed, pleased, teasing the tip of his cock against your entrance, barely pushing in, just enough to make you feel the stretch.

"Good girl," he praised, voice rich with amusement and something darker. "Then take me."

And with that, he finally—finally—began to sink in.

The stretch was insane, bordering on too much, your walls struggling to accommodate his sheer size. But Namjoon went slow, letting you feel every inch as he slid deeper, murmuring soft, mind-melting praise—

"So fucking tight."

"Taking me so well, baby."

"God, you look so pretty stuffed full of me."

His grip on your thighs tightened, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to hold himself back.

"Almost there, sweetheart—fuck, just a little more—"

And then, he bottomed out.

Namjoon groaned, his forehead pressing against yours, his cock throbbing inside you. You barely had a moment to adjust before he reached for the remaining honeycomb, his movements slow, deliberate.

Your breath hitched as he squeezed the honey right where you were connected, the warm, sticky liquid dripping over your stretched entrance, down to his cock, coating both of you in obscene slickness.

"Shit," Namjoon cursed, watching with half-lidded eyes as the honey trickled down. He used his fingers to spread it, mixing it with your arousal, smearing it over your clit, over the thick base of his cock. "Fuck, look at you, baby. So messy. So fucking sweet."

You whimpered, body twitching, and then—

He pulled out just enough to thrust back in.

The slide was so easy, so slick, the added warmth of the honey making everything more.

Namjoon moaned, his deep, guttural voice sending a rush of heat straight to your core. He gripped your thighs tighter, his pace starting slow but deep, making sure you felt every thick inch dragging along your walls before sinking all the way back in.

"You like that, sweetheart?" he rasped, leaning down to suck your bottom lip between his teeth. "Like feeling me fuck all this honey into you?"

Your nails dug into his arms, your legs tightening around his waist as you gasped, "Yes—fuck—Joon, please—"

He groaned at the sound of his name, his self-control snapping.

"Then take it."

With that, he snapped his hips forward, hard, and started fucking you in earnest.

Namjoon was so fucking good, it was criminal.

He didn’t even hesitate—didn’t wait, didn’t ease you into it—just started pounding into you with slow, devastating strokes that immediately found your g-spot. Each thrust had his cockhead grinding against it, rubbing against that spot inside you that made your back arch off the mattress, your fingers clawing at his arms.

"Fuck—Namjoon—"

He grunted against your skin, his lips latched onto one of your nipples, sucking hard as his hips snapped against yours. The wet, obscene squelching sounds of honey and arousal filled the room, mixing with your gasps and the deep groans he let out against your breast.

Then, he did the worst thing imaginable.

His palm slid down, pressing right against your clit, rubbing in slow, tight circles as his cock bullied its way deeper, slamming into your cervix like he owned it.

Your vision went white.

"You’re taking me so fucking well, sweetheart," Namjoon growled, biting down on your nipple, rolling the peak between his teeth. His other hand braced against the mattress beside your head, holding you down as he started rutting into you harder, faster. "So perfect for me—so fucking messy—"

You couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Could only feel.

Namjoon pressed his palm against your lower belly, right where he knew he was hitting the deepest, and groaned when he felt himself inside you.

"You feel that, baby?" His voice was rough, nearly slurred from how pussy-drunk he was. "Right here—I'm so deep inside you."

The pressure made your walls clamp so tight around him, your body trembling as you arched into his touch. It was too much, the way he owned every part of you—his cock stretching you open, his hand pressing down, his other palm still teasing your clit as his mouth devoured your tits.

"Fuck—fuck, Joon—"

He groaned at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, his hips snapping harder as he rolled his thumb over your swollen clit. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming together mixed with your desperate gasps, his low, guttural moans, and the faint squelch of honey still smeared between you.

"God, you're so messy—so fucking tight—" Namjoon grunted, pressing harder on your belly, feeling himself bulging inside you with every deep thrust. His cock was grinding against your cervix, pushing into that soft, sensitive spot that made your vision blur.

He owned you in this moment.

Body, mind, soul—everything.

Your orgasm crashed into you like a brick, a violent, breathtaking wave that had you shuddering around him, walls clamping down so tight it was nearly unbearable. But Namjoon didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down.

Didn’t let up.

If anything, he fucked you through it—kept driving into your overstimulated body, dragging out the pleasure until it blurred into something sharp and endless.

The moment he buried himself to the hilt, you felt it—his cock pulsing, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside you, but he didn’t stop there either.

Didn’t pull out.

Didn’t even pause.

Instead, he groaned, voice wrecked, and rolled his hips to push himself deeper.

"Fuck—" he rasped, sucking a mark onto your already-bruised breast. "Gonna give you more—take it, baby, take all of it."

Your entire body convulsed, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

"J-Joon—too much—fuck—"

But he just hummed, hands gripping your thighs as he pinned you in place, keeping you open and helpless as he chased his pleasure.

"You can take it, sweetheart—just one more—give me one more—"

And God, you did.

You were so stupidly overstimulated, body trembling under Namjoon as he kept fucking into you, deep and unrelenting. Every nerve felt raw, every thrust sent another sharp jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

Didn’t help that he looked so fucking hot.

Didn’t help that he was huge, towering over you, muscles flexing with every precise snap of his hips.

Didn’t help that his eyes—dark, blown out with lust—were fixed on you like he was watching his prettiest masterpiece fall apart beneath him.

"F-fuck—Joon—" you choked out, eyes fluttering as another wave hit you, so intense it nearly knocked you out.

Namjoon groaned, leaning down to kiss you through it, all slow and deep, like he was trying to ground you. But even then, he didn’t stop.

Didn’t let you breathe.

Didn’t let you recover.

"I know, baby," he cooed, so fucking smug, like he wasn’t destroying you. "But you can give me another, yeah? Just one more—be good for me."

He shifted, pressing his hand against your lower belly, pushing down, and fuck—the pressure made you feel everything, like he was trying to ruin you.

"J-Joon, I—oh my fucking—"

Your legs kicked, body convulsing as you came again, sobbing through the pleasure, but Namjoon just chuckled, voice low and wrecked.

"That’s my girl."

Namjoon was chasing his pleasure, thrusts growing erratic, deep grunts spilling from his lips as he wrecked you. You could barely think, barely breathe, every inch of you raw from overstimulation, but then—

Something changed.

It was different, but you couldn’t pin what—

Until you felt it.

A slow, insistent stretch at your entrance, spreading you wide, locking him inside.

Your eyes flew open.

"J-Joon—" your voice broke, fingers scrambling at his shoulders, at the sweat-slick muscles of his back. "Are you—"

Namjoon groaned, forehead dropping to yours, panting, shuddering, his hips pressing flush against you. You felt it then, how deep he was, how he couldn’t pull out.

He was knotting you.

And in no way did you ever think the first time he’d knot you would be through his honey-covered haze.

"Fucking—shit—" Namjoon moaned, voice wrecked, like the knot locking into place was breaking him just as much as it was breaking you. "Tight—s’too tight—fuck—"

Your thighs twitched, brain scrambling to catch up. It was too much, so deep, stretching you in ways you didn’t think were possible, and—

And you loved it.

"N-Joon—" you whimpered, body melting under his weight.

Namjoon groaned, pressing his lips to your jaw, kissing soft, breath heavy. "‘M sorry, baby," he mumbled, voice all warm and slurred, like he was half gone. "Didn’t mean—couldn’t—fuck—"

Your fingers buried in his hair, tugging him down until his lips met yours, and you kissed him slow, letting him feel it.

"S’fine," you murmured, a little dazed. "I wanted this."

Namjoon stilled, then whined, a deep, broken sound against your mouth, and fuck—

The knot was pulsing inside you.

Namjoon’s breath hitched as the haze finally started to lift.

His chest was heaving, sweat dripping down his temples as he slowly—slowly—came back to himself. His knot was still snug inside you, locking you together, his cock buried so deep that you could feel the faintest pulse of it against your walls.

And then you saw it.

The realization.

His eyes widened, pupils shrinking as his brain finally processed the absolute debauchery he had just put you through.

He went still. Completely, utterly still.

You could see it, the way he was replaying everything in his head—the honey, the licking, the way he had practically ravaged you in a sugar-induced frenzy like some sort of feral beast.

His face was turning redder by the second.

"Oh… oh my fucking God," Namjoon croaked, voice hoarse with horror.

It was vindicating.

You lay there, twitching, body wrecked, filled and plugged to the absolute brim by your massive bear hybrid boyfriend—who had the audacity to look scandalized at his own actions.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

"Joon."

"I—" he choked, looking everywhere but at you. "I—I did not—I mean, I did, but I didn’t—"

"You absolutely did."

His hands flew to his face, groaning into them. "Holy fuck, I knotted you. While high on honey. Oh my God—"

"You did," you said cheerfully. "And it was hot."

His hands dropped.

"DO NOT ENABLE ME—"

You giggled—only to immediately wince.

Yeah, teasing him was fun, but being knotted for the first time by this giant oaf definitely took its toll. Your whole body felt wrecked, every muscle sore, and the dull, aching stretch of his still-swollen knot made you keenly aware of just how deep he was inside you.

Namjoon noticed immediately, his mortification briefly overridden by pure concern.

"Shit, baby—are you okay? Did I hurt you? I—"

"Relax, you overgrown, pervy Winnie the Pooh," you grumbled, shifting slightly and feeling just how stuffed you still were.

Namjoon choked.

"WHAT—"

You grinned, teasing, despite the fact that you were currently impaled on him like a goddamn marshmallow on a skewer. "I mean, think about it. You got high on honey, lost all control, and stuffed yourself full like a greedy little bear—"

"I'M NOT LISTENING—"

"—except instead of a honey jar, it was me."

Namjoon whimpered.

You cackled—then winced again, immediately regretting it. "Okay, laughing is a bad idea."

Namjoon panicked, hands immediately coming to rub soothing circles over your thighs. "Baby, I'm so sorry, I should’ve been more careful—"

You sighed dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and pet me, you degenerate bear."

His lips pressed together, torn between guilt and exasperation. But then, he sighed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he continued rubbing gentle circles into your skin.

"You're terrible," he muttered.

"And yet," you murmured smugly, "you're still balls deep in me."

He made a pained sound.

It was vindicating.

[eloquentlytired]

18+mdni

— three is the charm

pairing: logan x fem curvy reader x wade

tags: threesome — established relationship — dominant wade — needy reader & lo — rough sex — cock ring — pet names — wade being silly — not mentioned but reader is on the pill — sweet ending — not exhaustive tags here we good

summary: wade needs to unwind, you and logan help him.

author’s note: I have finally finished this tiny surprise. enjoy !! ☺️🩷🌸

ৎৎৎ

you lie on the bed as wade kisses you while logan abuses the skin of your neck, littering it with bites. it hurts but it's a good ache and they're both always careful with you. “fuck.” you whine against wade’s lips and you know that he'd give you a funny response if he wasn't so incredibly horny — he was the one that had initiated this in the first place.

there's hardness pressing against both of your thighs and you think about how lucky you are to be like this; to have two people that want you. that love you. logan moves his hand to slide down your pajama shorts and wade follows right after to remove your panties, exposing your wetness. wade is also the first to slip between your legs and go down on you, firstly kissing the area around your pussy until you're whimpering and throbbing for him. logan is just done undoing the first few buttons of your pajama shirt, remembering you like this one, and you'd praise him if you were coherent. he wraps his lips around your nipple while occupying the other with his hand, twisting it between his fingers. you moan and your legs shake over wade’s shoulders as the wet sensations at your breasts and cunt overwhelm you with the best type of pleasure. wade grips your hips high and your heart flutters at the way his bare hands squeeze them so tightly, proving how much he loves the curves of you. he grunts between your legs, sliding his tongue up and down, from your entrance to your clit, before tracing your lips teasingly. you sob with pleasure and logan sucks around your nipple harder to intensify the arousal you feel. one of your hands disappear into logan’s hair while the other finds wade’s hand on your hip and squeezes it. wade squeezes back.

“fuck—” it is logan who is cursing moments later when he's laying on his back on the bed as you straddle him so that your chests are pressing together and melting. wade hovers behind you and the head of his cock pokes your anal hole, making you shudder. wade grips logan’s cock to give it a few rough strokes and watches how his boyfriend’s hips twitch with each movement. he presses logan’s tip against the entrance of your weeping cunt and you moan, swaying your hips back against their cocks. “please.” you whisper and they're moving in unison like they always do, as if they're mentally communicating, and slide their cocks inside you inch by inch.

logan waits for wade to go a few inches first before he's pushing his fat tip past the tightness of your sweet pussy. this is something they always do as well — allowing the other to go first depending who's more desperate or who needs it more at the moment. part of them does it to not hurt you too much which is sweet, but the other part contains a much deeper meaning of it. probably something to do with the way wade slides his cock inside you first while staring at logan from behind your shoulder. they exchange rough glances, literally eye-fucking each other, because wade always provokes logan. he becomes competitive on purpose but there's no unhealthy intent behind it and they always know. wade means to say something like I reached the ending line first but logan grounds his hips, lining his dick with your pussy and thrusts forward sharply. it makes wade feral to see that kind of expression in his face — logan silently telling him that even if he comes second he'll still pretty much destroy the both of you.

but today is wade’s day and when wade leans down for a moment, tugging logan’s head closer by his hair, logan allows him. only you and wade can do that. “oh.” you lift your head slightly from logan’s hairy chest and you watch them as they kiss, wade’s tongue battling for dominance, and his endurance allows him to claim it against logan who's struggling to keep up. logan growls as wade takes a sweet moment to bite onto his bottom lip and release it with a loud sound. you instinctively clench at the sight, walls tightening around their cocks which twitch in response. especially logan’s as wade bites onto his bottom lip again but this time harder until he draws blood. it's filthy and arousing but the three of you were never normal to begin with.

“wade..lo!” you scream as they fill you up at the same time, stuffing their cocks into your deepest parts. you're full — extremely — and your body shakes uncontrollably because of the sheer force of their hips. wade grunts as he fucks you from behind, driving his hips straight into yours while his hand squeezes your pretty hip. you don't know where his other hand is until wade is using it to wrap it around your throat and pull you up. you feel logan’s cock shake, tremble even, and it couldn't be? right? but logan surprises you by spilling his load into your pussy and he surprises wade too.

logan is the only one who isn't surprised because the sight before him has turned him into literal shambles. your back presses against wade’s chest as you take both of their cocks so well and — in logan’s defense — wade is choking you too as your breasts bounce with each collision of their hips. logan can't take it. “you old dog.” wade mocks as he nibbles the back of your shoulder and logan let's out an animalistic growl as if annoyed with the comment. wade just provokes him more. “oh, peanut, maybe we should train you to handle the truth a little better.” and before you know it wade is holding you from your elbows as your entire front moves over logan. wade fucks you fast, hard. his balls slap against your skin and the motion burns you eventually because of the roughness but you like it. logan squirms beneath your bodies mumbling and pleading about how it's too much, too sensitive. “shut up and take it.” wade says probably to both of you and you moan in unison. your pussy clenches, logan shivers.

at some point wade is using a single arm to fist your hair and that's all the support you have to not crash on top of logan. logan watches your breasts bounce and brush over his face as wade takes you, molds you into an obedient little thing. it doesn't take long for him to get hard again and start rutting into you but wade notices. and he doesn't allow it. “what the—” logan hisses as something interrupts his high and although he can't see it, he knows wade has wore that damn cock ring around him just for punishment. “now don't be selfish. you already had your fun,didn't you?” wade mocks and grounds his hips into you so deep that it makes your eyes roll back with logan simply watching. logan growls in protest like he always does but wade doesn't care. wade pulls out completely before thrusting his entire cock back into your hole and your hips tremble as you hear the noises; when wade fucks you. when his hips collide with yours. when his balls slap against your skin. when his cock completely disappears into your tightness.

“work,puppy. you might get what you want in the end.” wade tells logan with mischief and logan grips both of your asscheeks roughly as he begins fucking into you properly. finally. it's brutal and fast and logan’s public hair rubs against your clit. you're reaching your peak then, squeezing around their cocks while coming all over logan’s dick. logan grunts and whimpers beneath your body as his cock twitches but nothing comes out — the cock ring doesn't let him. wade simply grins with satisfaction and before you know it he's pulling out of you, stroking himself to orgasm. you and logan moan as wade spurts all over you, on your ass and on logan’s thighs. he wants his claim to be apparent.

wade releases your hair and you fall on logan with a whine, your scalp slightly hurting but it's fine because this is worth it. there's some shuffling behind as wade unclasps the cock ring from around logan’s shaft. he's hard and leaking and wade uses a hand to guide logan’s cock back into your sensitive pussy. “wade—” , “I know,angel,I know.” he shushes your protests as logan’s hard shaft stretches you out again. it takes you a while to realize that logan is shaking beneath you as wade fondles with his balls, squeezing and rubbing them. logan’s eyes are shut and his hips twitch. all it takes is a few more toying around with his balls from wade to make him come again and logan is filling you up again. you shudder as he finishes emptying his load inside you and you slide tiredly by his side, logan is as tired as you so he doesn't stop your fall.

it's midnight when all three of you are watching tv in one of the couches. wade is in the middle while you and logan are at either side of him. wade’s head is leaning on logan’s shoulder while his hand is nestled between your hands. you hold him gently as logan silently watches the cartoons channel that wade has picked out. “thank you for today.” wade mutters tiredly, because it's his thing to be sentimental a little before bed, and you and logan can't help but smile a little. “I can feel you smiling.” wade states proudly, eyes still targeted at the television. “go fuck yourself,bub.” logan tells him humourously and you shake your head at their childish bickering. “talking about fucking,lo, did your balls get bigger—”

“wade!” you and logan protest in unison. your boyfriend laughs.

[pure-smut]

addicted.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, groping on public transport (exhibitionism maybe??), a smidge dubcon, orgasm denial, missionary, mating press, size k*nk, Sukuna is a stalker and super possessive/toxic, unprotected s*x

word count: 2.6k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: thank you so much for all the love this series has gotten!! kinda feel like this maybe isn't the end?? idk i feel like sukuna's got more tricks up his sleeve so lmk if you'd like to see more~

It’s been a few days since you had that wet dream about Ryomen Sukuna and you still can’t get it out of your head.

Weird enough that it had come completely out of the blue – it’s not like you’d really thought about him since you slept together – but it was so vivid. The feel of his tongue on your throbbing clit, broad and deft as he made you cum on his tongue.

You shudder, growing wetter even as you remember it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times but despite his usual intense look, he hadn’t acted any different to before. You didn’t mind – despite being a great night, you knew Sukuna was a fuckboy through and through. You have no interest in spending more time than necessary with a guy who couldn’t give a shit about you.

So, you’d ignored him back.

Except for that wet dream.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the memory, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re at the train station, waiting with a thick crowd of commuters as you wait on your train home. You usually leave class a bit later than everyone else, staying behind to study, specifically so you could avoid the crush of people at rush hour. But today, your textbooks were getting delivered and the timeslot was less than convenient, forcing you to rush home with everyone else.

You try to make yourself small as the train arrives and you’re swept up with the crowd.

Everyone files on quietly, squishing themselves into the cramped space. You mumble a few apologies as you press into the commuters around you, finding a corner that you can face, hugging your bag to your chest. The train shudders as it starts up but you’re so crushed into the corner, you don’t even sway at it moves. You sigh heavily. It’s going to be a long journey home.

You start to zone out, wishing you’d thought to bring your earphones so you could at least listen to some music. When you feel a hand on your hip, you don’t even register it, assuming it’s someone in the crowd squeezing past. It’s only when you feel hot breath on the top of your head and the hand slides lower, touching your bare thigh, that you jolt.

You try to turn around but you’re pressed into the corner, not able to move. You heart hammers in your chest, your breath catching. Some random pervert is feeling you up!

What do I do?! You think to yourself, panicked.

And then you hear him.

“Relax, baby.” Sukuna’s voice is low so only you can hear, his mouth against the shell of your ear.

You freeze.

“S…Sukuna?!” you squeak.

“Shh,” he hushes you, his thumb tracing circles on your thigh. “Keep quiet for me, angel.”

You risk a quick glance behind you, but Sukuna’s large frame covers you completely, blocking you from view. You twist your neck to look up and see him grinning down at you.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” you say back, blinking. “What are you-?”

Before you can even ask, he’s answered you. Sukuna’s hand moves up your thigh and under your skirt, cupping your panty-clad pussy. You gasp and Sukuna tuts in your ear.

“Be quiet, remember?” he says firmly.

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry, but give a small nod. Despite the absurdity of the situation, a weird thrill runs up your spine at how brazen he is. You’re in public. Anyone could see. The train rocks on the tracks and Sukuna takes the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties.

You bite back a gasp.

“Good girl,” Sukuna purrs.

He starts to stroke small circles around your clit, already slippery with your arousal. Your body responds to him on instinct and you spread your thighs slightly, allowing him more access.

The train stutters to a halt. You remain rooted to the spot, unmoving, as people file off and on the train. Thankfully, it remains full to the brim, so no one notices Sukuna groping you in the corner. You only breathe when the train starts moving again.

“Tell me something,” Sukuna says lowly. “Who were you speaking to earlier?”

Your mind is foggy with lust, too focussed on his fingers playing with your pussy in public. You blink several times, trying to understand his question.

“Um…” You falter as he applies more pressure, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. “W-who?”

Sukuna growls in your ear and he pulls his fingers away. You fight the urge to whine, your clit still needy.

“Don’t play dumb.” His voice is quiet enough for only you to hear but has a dangerous undercurrent. “That white-haired jackass.”

You furrow your brow, confused. You had bumped into one of your classmates earlier outside your work and had ended up chatting to him for maybe ten minutes. But how did Sukuna know about that? And why was he angry?

You’re jolted from your thoughts as Sukuna lightly slaps your pussy.

“Well?”

“T-that was just a c-classmate,” you stammer out.

“You seemed awfully cosy with him.”

“How would you know?” you shoot back, a nugget of defiance forming in your chest. “And why do you even care?”

“I care,” Sukuna whispers in your ear and it sounds more like a threat than reassurance. “I care a lot.”

Your breath catches in your chest as Sukuna’s fingers return to your puffy clit, stroking it again. You nearly groan but bite your lip to contain it.

“Does he get to do this to you?” Sukuna asks. “Does anyone but me get to touch you like this?”

“N-no. Of course not.” You’re trying to keep the waver out of your voice but the way he’s rubbing your sensitive bud is making your knees weak.

His deft fingers quickly bring you to the brink. You press your back against his hard stomach and chest, stifling your moans as Sukuna dips a finger between your folds to gather more of your slick. You tilt your head back, resting it against his chest as your breathing turns ragged. You’re nearly there. You’re so close.

And then Sukuna pulls his hand away, withdrawing out from under your skirt completely.

“What…” you puff out, frustration and surprise colouring your cheeks.

Before you can twist your head to ask him what he thinks he’s doing, Sukuna intertwines his fingers with yours. As the train stutters to the next stop, he pushes through the crowd like a battering ram, pulling you by your hand behind him.

“Where are we going?” you protest. “I don’t live at this stop.”

“I do.”

Sukuna drags you out of the station but once you’re free of the rush hour crowds, he slows his pace, letting you walk in step beside him. You notice he doesn’t drop your hand.

You open your mouth several times to ask what he’s doing but the answer is obvious. He wants to fuck. Why, is the bigger question. Why when he could have any girl he wants, at least for a night. So that's what you ask him.

“Why me?”

Sukuna brings you to his front door, an eyebrow cocked as he pulls his keys free.

“What kind of a question is that?” He rolls his eyes.

“Why do you want me?” you insist.

Sukuna sighs, slotting in his keys and opening the front door. He drags you in, slamming the door closed before pushing you against it.

“Because you’re mine,” he states plainly.

Mine.

The word echoes in your mind as Sukuna dips his head to kiss you roughly. His lips part yours, his tongue demanding entrance. You open yourself to him as he grabs you loosely by the throat.

“You’ve been making me wait,” Sukuna groans into your mouth. “You’ve been testing my patience.”

Before you can question him, he scoops his large hands under your ass and picks you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around him.

“You’re not working tomorrow,” he says, almost a question but not quite.

“How do you know that?”

“Yes or no?” he ignores you, carrying you through the hall and into his bedroom.

“N-no.”

“Good. We’re not leaving this house for two days.”

Sukuna doesn’t ask you. He tells you.

He throws you on the bed before lying on top of you, pressing his mouth against yours to swallow any protests. His hand tangles in your hair at the back of your head, cradling your skull against his palm. His lips are soft even as his kisses are rough, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. Between his prolonged teasing on the train and his annoyingly good kisses, you feel your thighs growing slick with how turned on you are.

You snake a hand to the back of his neck, fingers gliding through his soft, pink hair. Sukuna grinds his crotch against yours, the friction making your clit throb. You whine with need.

“Let me cum,” you beg. “You got me so close before.”

“Say it again.”

“Let me cum, Sukuna.”

“Again.”

“Please! Please let me cum, Sukuna.”

He pulls back to grin at you.

“That’s all you had to say, angel.”

Sukuna reaches down to undo his jeans, pulling his cock free. You know he’s big, the memory of working it inside you still imprinted on your mind, but seeing it in person again makes your eyes widen.

“You were too tight last time, baby,” Sukuna coos, stroking himself. “Need to loosen you up first.”

Sukuna moves his hand from his cock to your clit, resuming his previous tight circles. Your back arches and your nails sink into the hard muscles of his shoulders. Sukuna uses his other hand to tug your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Still playing with your pussy, he latches his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling at it.

“Ah!” you whimper, the combined sensations overcoming you.

Sukuna feels you wriggling beneath him and pins you down at your hip, forcing you to stay in position. Your breathing gets short as you squeeze your eyes shut, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train.

You cry out Sukuna’s name as he makes you cum on his fingers, finally fulfilling the promise his touch made on the train. Sukuna talks you through it, his cock responding to the sweet noises you make because of him. With a satisfied smile, he pulls his hand back.

You collapse back onto the bed, dazed, as the head of Sukuna’s hard cock nudges at your entrance.

“Keep your legs spread for me, baby,” he commands. “There’s a good girl.”

Still coming down from the high of your orgasm, you’re pliant and obedient. You push your thighs apart, resting them on the cut of Sukuna’s hip muscles as he leans forward over you. Sukuna’s fat mushroom tip meets your hole and then slowly, so slowly, he pushes it inside you.

Your breath hitches, your brows scrunching up in the middle. You look down to see him splitting you in half, his cock stretching you so deliciously.

“Ah-!” you gasp. “Fuck, it’s so big…”

Sukuna doesn’t stop himself from grinning. He’s never been on top before, never thought anyone could take him like this. But he knows you can. And he’s willing to be patient for it.

Your pussy is slick and relaxed from your orgasm, stretching to accommodate Sukuna as he sinks himself another few inches inside you. He’s only halfway but the feel of your walls pulsing around him is setting his skin on fire. He grits his teeth and pulls back slightly, fucking you with a few shallow pumps to spread your juices along his cock.

You feel heavenly. He could cum just like this but he knows you can do more. He can wait.

Sukuna pulls your legs up, hooking your ankles over his shoulders so he can go deeper. He presses himself further, your welcoming pussy swallowing another few inches, your lips wrapping around him so tight.

You fist the bedsheets next to you, his cock rubbing against every nerve along your walls.

“S-Sukuna!” you cry out.

“You can take it, baby,” he soothes you, holding himself agonisingly still to let you get used to him. “You did before.”

You know he’s right – in fact, you made a point of taking his entire cock last time, just to spite him. And you don’t want him to stop, not really. You’ve never been with anyone who’s reached so deep inside you before. It feels strangely intimate, this secret thing that you only share with Sukuna.

Sukuna waits until you stop squirming before moving again. He’s so close, only an inch or two left. He thrusts in and out a few more times, drawing another whimper from your lips, before sinking in fully.

The front of his thighs meet the back of your ass, pressed together as he leans some of his weight down on you. Your lips fall open, a million curses waiting at the back of your throat, but all you can think is – you feel so full.

“Your pussy was made for me,” Sukuna groans, teeth gritted.

That’s exactly how you feel. He fits so snugly inside you, so tight and stretched, the thick ridges of his cock dragging so perfectly along your plush walls. Sukuna starts to thrust, keeping himself deep, never wanting to leave the warmth of you for long, and every stroke sends you hurtling towards another orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Sukuna’s eyes are glued on where your bodies meet, at where his girth slides in and out of you, coated in your juices.

He’s addicted to the way you sound, the lewd squelch of your pussy, the desperate moans from your lips. He’s obsessed with the feel of you around him, swallowing him whole. He’s infatuated with how you look, folded beneath him as he fucks you, your face contorted in the pleasure he’s giving you. Beautiful. Perfect.

He is never letting you go.

Sukuna picks up his pace, hips rolling. Your bodies are both coated in a thin sheen of sweat, the sounds of slapping flesh filling the room.

“You’re mine,” Sukuna growls. “Say it back to me.”

You’re delirious, drunk off the feel of his cock pistoning in and out of you. When you look up at him, your eyes are half-lidded and glazed.

“I’m yours,” you breathe.

“You going to ignore me again?”

Sukuna punctuated each syllable with another brutal snap of his hips. You cry out, so close to cumming even as your pussy aches.

“No!” you sob. “Never.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m yours, Sukuna. I belong to you!”

“Good fucking girl.”

Sukuna leans down further to kiss you roughly, his tongue lapping at yours without breaking pace. His cock rubs against just the right spot and you dive headfirst into another orgasm.

Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, your pussy like a vice grip around him. It’s enough to bring him to his own finish. He tips his head back, a flurry of curses falling from his lips as you feel him spill thick ropes of cum inside you.

Your thighs fall to either side of him as Sukuna half-collapses on top of you, chest heaving. You hold him to you, pressing soft kisses against his neck.

“Sukuna…” you say quietly, unsure.

He rolls over to the side of you, pulling you with him so you’re lying tucked into the side of him, your cheek pressed against his chest.

“I meant it,” Sukuna says, seeming to understand you even without you asking. “You’re mine.”

He looks down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“And I’m yours. Always.”

Taglist: @tojis-ball-sack @moonjellyfishie @kalulakunundrum @benimarusimp33e @samoankpoper21 @travistheaussie @jazzywazzzy @cla1r20 @namjooningera

masterlist

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[yena-enha]

𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐏𝐒𝐇 𝐗 𝐏𝐉𝐒

Warning - This story contains extreme A/B/O dynamics with feral, rut-driven alphas overpowering their omega. There is dub-con/non-con, forced mating, knotting, excessive overstimulation, and deep bite marks that draw blood. The alphas are aggressive, merciless, and fully consumed by their instincts, using their omega purely for pleasure and breeding. There’s also choking, manhandling, degradation, forced submission, and no aftercare. Reader is crying, shaking, overstimulated to the point of exhaustion, and left completely ruined. Pain is treated as pleasure, and the alphas do not stop, no matter how much she begs. This is not a soft or loving portrayal of A/B/O—this is primal, brutal, and merciless. Read at your own discretion.

Note - MDNI (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), Interact At Your Own Risk, NSFW Content

Genre - Dark Smut, Werewolf AU

Pairing - Alpha!Jay x Omega!FemReader x Alpha!Sunghoon

Inspiration - Requested By anon - 🫧, Animals By Maroon5

Word Count - 2.3 K Words

𝘞𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘖𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢

You barely made it to the door before a hand wrapped around your throat, yanking you back.

A scream tore from your lips, but it was useless. Jay and Sunghoon were in rut. Their instincts had taken over, their rage palpable in the thick, suffocating air of the den.

“You fucking ran from us?” Sunghoon hissed against your ear, his grip bruising as he shoved you forward. You barely had time to catch yourself before Jay grabbed your waist, throwing you onto the bed like a ragdoll.

You scrambled back, fear mixing with something darker as two sets of glowing gold eyes stared you down. Their scents—**musk, dominance, need—**clouded your mind, making you dizzy.

Jay stalked toward you first, his fangs bared. “We should punish you for that.”

Sunghoon growled, gripping your ankle and yanking you toward him. “No,” he said, voice dripping with menace. “We will.”

Your whimper was cut off when Jay’s claws ripped your dress to shreds, leaving you bare beneath them. The cold air sent a shiver down your spine, but their burning touches quickly replaced it.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, fingers spreading your slick folds apart. His eyes darkened as he watched your hole clench around nothing. “Look at this,” he murmured, dragging two fingers through your wetness before shoving them into your mouth. “Fucking soaked already.”

You choked, tasting yourself on his fingers, but Jay was already positioning himself behind you. One strong hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back. His breath was hot against your throat.

“You’re our omega. We’ll fucking ruin you.”

And then he thrust in—brutal, unrelenting, tearing you open.

A scream ripped from your lips as Jay speared into you, forcing you to take every inch of his cock. The stretch was unbearable, your body shaking from the sheer force of it.

Sunghoon’s fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your teary eyes up to his. “You can take it,” he growled. “You were made for us.”

Your sobs were muffled as Sunghoon shoved himself into your mouth, forcing you to choke around his length. The intrusion burned, but he didn’t care—he held you there, using your throat like it was his right.

“Fuck,” Jay grunted, his claws digging into your hips as he pounded into you, ignoring your cries. His knot was already swelling, stretching you too much, too deep, too full.

Your body convulsed, overstimulated already, but they weren’t stopping.

Bite.

Jay’s fangs sank into your shoulder, the sharp pain making you cry out—but Sunghoon only groaned at the vibrations. His grip on your hair tightened, and he thrust deeper down your throat, fucking your mouth raw.

“Crying already?” Sunghoon mocked, watching the tears spill down your cheeks. “We’re just getting started, pup.”

Jay’s knot swelled inside you, locking him deep. Your body went rigid as heat spread through your core, his seed flooding your womb. But before you could even catch your breath, Sunghoon pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Flip her over,” he ordered.

Jay grunted, lifting you effortlessly, his knot still inside you, forcing you onto your back. Your whimpering protests were ignored—Sunghoon was already lining himself up with your untouched hole.

“W-Wait—” your voice cracked.

But he didn’t.

One brutal thrust and Sunghoon buried himself inside, forcing you to take both knots at once.

Your scream was wrecked, pure agony and pleasure twisting together into something unbearable. The stretch was blinding, splitting you apart, your walls clenching helplessly around their cocks.

“Too much,” you sobbed, body shaking violently.

Jay snarled, gripping your jaw and forcing you to meet his eyes. “You can take it. You will take it.”

Sunghoon groaned as he bit down on your throat, a deep, bruising claim. “Omegas don’t get to say no,” he growled. “You’re ours.”

Jay grabbed your thighs and bent them forward, pinning you in place. The new angle made Sunghoon hit even deeper, forcing a broken sob from your lips.

Bite.

Sunghoon’s teeth tore into your shoulder again, sharp canines embedding into your flesh. The pain mixed with overwhelming pleasure, making your vision blur. They weren’t being gentle. They weren’t giving you a break.

They were fucking you through their ruts—using you, claiming you, breeding you.

Jay’s thrusts turned erratic as his knot pulsed again, more thick seed flooding your womb. But Sunghoon wasn’t done—his grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your air as he chased his own release.

Bite.

Your skin was covered in bite marks, deep and permanent. You’d be wearing their claims for weeks.

And then—Sunghoon slammed his knot inside, locking both alphas deep.

Your body convulsed, breaking apart as they stuffed you full. Heat bloomed inside you, both knots swelling, forcing their seed deeper into your womb. You sobbed, overwhelmed, overstimulated, shaking.

“F-Full,” you whimpered, barely able to form words.

Jay chuckled darkly. “Not full enough.”

Sunghoon smirked, grinding into you despite his knot keeping him locked. “Yeah, pup. You’re gonna take everything we give you.”

Your heat was just beginning.

And they had days to break you apart.

Over.

And over.

Again.

«Masterlist || Introduction»

[3rachaslut]

kinks i think skz would have (part 3)

SKZXFEM READER

cw: smut obviously (MINORS DNI) the tw’s are kinda obvious with the sub header but read at your own discretion babies 🤍

a/n: not proofread sorry for any mistakes. also i’m so happy to be writing again! lets be delulu together xox

part 1, part 2

bangchan; hair pulling

oh my lord this man is relentless,

he’d be grabbing fistfuls of your hair and yanking your head up to look at him when you’re on your knees underneath him

“you look so pretty on your knees for me doll”

will literally snatch your hair as he’s fucking you in missionary and growl like an ANIMAL down your ear as he’s so deep in your pussy

“f- fuck baby, ah- feel so good around my cock”

the way your mouth drops open at the sting on your scalp as you stare up at him with mascara down your face from him deep-throating you omg you look devine babygirl!

“don’t cry angel you’re doing such a good job for me” *continues to FACE FUCK you*

lee know; edging/ overstim

we all knew this one was coming

you best believe lee know would make you BEG for him to let you come every. single. time. without fail. you would be a whimpering, sobbing mess

“if you want to cum, what do you say baby? … hmm i don’t think think you want it that much” GOD

he would be holding the vibrator to your clit for ages! smirking at your face contorting as the pleasure just builds and builds in your pussy.

“such a good girl for daddy hmm?” HELP (i am simply a dog)

“that’s it, keep begging sweetheart” AHH

and when he does let you come oh. god. he would make you orgasm over and over again until you’re crying! your pussy would be so red and swollen afterwards and he lovessss to see it

“no no doll, you begged me to come so take it like a good girl”

changbin; pussy slapping

hear me out-

so, changbin would be on top of you fully clothed whilst you’re bare naked underneath him and even the sight of you alone is enough to have his cock digging into you from his pants

he’s the type to play with your clit until you’re mewling but would SLAPPP your pussy once he hears you beg to go faster

“you don’t tell me when to do with your pussy darling”

the way he would smirk slyly as your body jolts up and your legs shake in surprise at the sudden impact o.m.g!

each slap would have you groaning from your whole chest as he continues slapping your sensitive clit again and again and he would even have the AUDACITY to chuckle down your ear at your reactions

“you’ll get my cock soon enough baby, don’t worry”

hyunjin; praise kink

i feel like this one being on the list was inevitable. hyunjin and praise kink just go hand in hand

the way he would trace your entire body with his hands leaving kisses on your exposed skin with his eyes full of adoration i’m CRYING

“you’re actually ethereal y/n..”

each time he would kiss the inside of your thighs, he would look up at you with your head thrown back in bliss and smile lovingly at the sight of you enjoying yourself. (all he cares about is your pleasure i SWEAR)

“that feel nice baby?” um YES

none. stop. compliments of how beautiful your body is and how he’s the luckiest man in the world

lots of make out sessions because trust me, this man is drunk on you!

“so fucking beautiful”

han jisung; marking

because han AINT SHARING

the thought of anyone else looking at you has han feeling the need to mark you as his own. you’re his and he’s yours. done!

seriously bestie, the amount of hickeys he gives you is crazyyyy! but would absolutely kiss each one after making them

“my gorgeous girl, aren’t you? only mine” the POSSESSIVENESS i love urgh

the way he would have you moaning underneath him as he sucks on your neck again and again and the way you would sound so sexy he would be lowkey going feral for you.

“fuck baby, i love you so much”

felix; pain play

because, in my opinion, felix can’t contain his dom side around you…

as in he would be shoving his fingers down your throat whilst pinching and twisting your nipples just to hear your choked moans whilst you writhe under him

and the way he would chuckle smugly af at the state he would put you in every time. (his deep laugh has me on the floor)

“is it hurting baby? aww… good”

SLAPPING. EVERYWHERE.

the lasting bruises of his hands all over your thighs and ass for dayssss

the way he would nip his teeth against your clit just to see you jump and buck up into his face when you feel a sharp sting onfbsjsn

*deep voice* “good girl” — AHHHH i’m sat!!

seungmin; objectification & humiliation

this one is my personal fave… stay with me !!…

i know for sure that seungmin is a super soft lover but you can’t tell me this man doesn’t respectfully disrespect you to the point of orgasm !

the way he would tease your clit forever just to look into your desperate af eyes and laugh at you for being “such a needy fucking puppy yeah?” and the way he would call you a whore and slap you in the face afterwards IM WET

“can’t speak now pup? aww are you so dumb on my cock that you’ve turned into nothing but a doll for me to fuck? yeahhh…”

and the way he would choke you until your eyes roll back in bliss just to laugh at how pliant you are O.M.G

the aftercare though! he would give you so so many face kisses and cuddle you so tightly only to do the exact same thing the night after

jeongin; Msub

look, i’m constantly torn between wanting innie to rail me and wanting to corrupt him but this oneeee…

WHINEY JEONGIN.

when i tell you the whimpers this man lets out whilst you tease the top of his cock is heavenly, i mean dangerously

“y/n- mistress! please!” oh my

his eyes would be focused on YOU, never taking his eyes off his beautiful girl

so much begging and pleading and the way he would moan even louder in desperation when you smirk at him because he knows it gonna be a long night

“i’ll be good! i’ll be so good for you! please y/n!”

the way he would grab your face once he comes down from his high and just kisses you for so long with SO much passion. i will cry

[mint-yooxgi]

The Morning After - Slight Yandere!Vampire!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Slight Yandere AU, Idol AU, Fated Lovers AU & Original Vampire AU

Genre: Mature, Intense Smut, Fluff

Pairing: Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader (Implied OT8 X Reader)

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Words: 8,246

Warnings: Feral Yeosang, Biting, Blood, Possession Kink (don't heed this particular warning lightly, but please know everything said between them is very much consensual, mutual, and wanted), Strength Kink, Oral (fem. rec), Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Squirting, Cream Pie, Wall Sex, Couch Sex, Fingering (fem. rec), Kitchen Sex, Pet Names (Beloved, Dearest, My Dear, My Queen/King, Songbird, Beautiful), Established Relationship, Implied Insecurities (OC and Yeosang just had a talk before this scene about her insecurities regarding her body), Originally written in first person, but edited for second so if you see any mistakes, no you didn't. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed anything! This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

Context/Summary: Yeosang and you have just spent your first night together as an official couple. You wake up to a pleasant surprise curtesy of the man who loves you unconditionally, and is always ready and willing to please.

A/n: So, this is another scene from my extremely self-indulgent fic I'm writing myself, but I just loved how it turned out. I'm really proud of the smut, and I just found the possession aspect really hot, so I wanted to share it with all of you! You can definitely still read this even if you're not tall and/or chubby, but that's how I envisioned for it to be. This fic is originally in first person, but I edited it to be in second person for posting. I really hope you enjoy feral vampire Yeosang as much as I do! Enjoy, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

“Took me a moment to remember where I put it, but I knew I saved a special shirt here just for you.”

Gently, you reach out to take the large, oversized shirt Yeosang offers you, thanking him lowly. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you feel the soft material between your fingers. Not even a moment later, you slip it over your head, carefully settling it into place over your naked body.

Yeosang offers you his hand.

This time, you gladly take it.

With a gentle tug, Yeosang pulls you out of bed and onto your feet. His shirt falls just over all of the important bits, but it makes you feel comfortable nonetheless.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest.

“I think I’m starting to understand the appeal of you wanting to peg me in one of your sweaters,” He hums, spinning you lightly in a circle. Amber eyes admire every inch of your body, lingering on your bare legs as he licks his lips. “You look stunning in my shirt, Beloved.”

A soft giggle escapes you, your cheeks warming as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you fuck me in it later.”

A growl escapes him, his arm tightening around your waist. “Promise?”

Another soft chuckle escapes you, a smile tugging at your lips. “We have all weekend, Sangie. I’ll let you do more than just that.”

“Fuck- I love you,” Yeosang’s lashes flutter as he guides you towards the kitchen. “Literally, could you be any more perfect?”

Your smile widens, if at all possible, as we enter the kitchen. A plate of pancakes rests on the counter, along with some freshly cut fruit, some orange juice, and-

You gasp excitedly, your eyes widening, “Apple juice!”

You part from Yeosang’s hold in order to waddle over excitedly to the counter. Your eyes shine as you take it all in, admiring the plating and the effort he put into making you both breakfast.

“I hope you’re hungry, My Dear,” He hums, stepping in beside you and wrapping his arm around your waist once more. “And there’s no need to worry. I made sure the pancakes were lactose free.”

Your eyes shine with affection, your heart warming at the care he’s put into this.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Truly, this has been more than I could have ever hoped for.”

Yeosang melts into your embrace, hugging you just as tightly as you hug him.

“I’m glad.” He hums. “If I can provide to you even a sliver of the same happiness that you bring me, then I’ve succeeded in life.”

“Okay, you are far more romantic and articulate than people give you credit for.” You squeeze him lightly, placing a lingering kiss to the side of his head. “Thank you, Yeosang. I appreciate all of this more than you’ll ever know. I appreciate you.”

Pulling away, Yeosang stares into your eyes with nothing but fondness in his own.

“I love you, Dearest,” Though his voice is low, you still hear him loud and clear. “I will spend every day until the very end of time proving that to you. There is nothing, absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’m simply happy that I can provide for you, and show you in multiple ways that I care.”

“Yeosang,” You smile, reaching up to brush some hair off of his forehead. “I hope you know that everything you said to me also applies to me for you. Just as you provide for me, I will provide for you, and I want you to know,” You cup his face tenderly, “I am in love with you, too.”

A brilliant smile stretches across his lips, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The way a soft giggle escapes him warms your heart, noticing how he hops onto his tiptoes to peck your lips.

“Sit down and relax, My Dear,” He hums, motioning to the chairs at the counter. “Let me serve you your breakfast.”

“It’s okay, Sangie,” You go to reach for a plate. “I can serve myself, you don’t have to-“

Your words die in my throat as you see the dramatic pout that pulls at his lips. The fact that he snatches the plate away from you, holding it protectively out of your reach makes you laugh.

“Okay, okay,” You concede. “You may serve me my food, My King.”

Instantly, that radiant smile is back on his features, practically skipping around the counter as he piles food onto your plate. A soft melody is hummed curtesy of the man before you, placing your plate in front of you once he’s satisfied with the amount of food he’s given you.

You cannot help but smile at the fact that he even made a little smiley face on top of the pancakes with the fruit.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” You hum, resting your head in the palm of your hand as you watch him make up his own plate.

A small pout is sent your way as he pauses putting food on his plate.

“Adorably handsome.” You correct with a chuckle, watching as he beams happily at you in response.

Once he’s served himself, he eagerly scurries beside you, hoisting himself into the chair in one fluid movement.

You can’t help but admire him the whole time, silently watching as he pours you both glasses of juice. A tender smile rests on your lips as he slides your glass over to you, grabbing it with your one hand as you motion for him to come closer with the other.

Curiously, Yeosang leans towards you. You meet him halfway, placing your hand gently beneath his chin. A tender kiss is placed upon his lips, letting your own linger for a moment before pulling away with a soft smile on your face.

“Thank you for such a wonderful breakfast, My King.”

A soft giggle greets your ears in response, noticing how his cheeks dust the slightest bit of pink.

“I hope you enjoy, My Queen.”

You shoot him a happy smile before grabbing your fork and beginning to eat.

The fruit is both incredibly fresh and sweet, practically melting on your tongue with every bite. You can’t help but hum lowly, complimenting him on picking the ripest fruits.

You swear you see him sit a little taller, chest puffing out in pride.

Pausing to take a sip of your apple juice, you notice Yeosang staring at you with such an affectionate look in his eyes. His head rests against his closed fist, lips pulled upwards at the corners in a soft smile.

“You’re so beautiful,” He sighs happily, gaze flitting everywhere over your features.

You cannot help the way your cheeks warm at his honest words, your own lips tugging upwards bashfully. You turn towards him to respond, but before a single word can leave your lips, you feel something cool and wet pressing against them.

A piece of melon is pressed softly against your lips, Yeosang smiling so tenderly at you from behind his fork. You cannot help but smile, graciously biting into the melon he offers you.

Over the next few minutes, you both feed each other bites of food. The silence that settles around you both is comfortable, an air of ease surrounding the entire apartment. It’s peaceful, and intimate. Simply two souls finding solace in the other’s presence. It warms your heart, making it swell with love for him at the same time.

Once your plates are clear, you sit in silence for a few moment. Yeosang leans in to rest his head on your shoulder, and you take the opportunity to rest yours on top of his. The subtle rise and fall of his chest can be felt against your arm, comforting you as your eyelids begin to droop once more.

“Why don’t you go back to bed, Dearest? I’ll join you in a minute, after I finish cleaning up.”

You hum, sitting back to your full height while stretching out your back. A few satisfying pops can be heard, and you take the time to crack your neck as well.

“I’ll help you clean up.” You say, already sliding off of your chair and onto your feet. “It’s the least I can do after you made me such a wonderful breakfast.”

Yet again, Yeosang turns his pout on you.

“Uh-uh,” You wag your finger at him playfully. “Not this time!”

With a sigh, the vampire across the counter from you concedes. “Fine…”

You grin, already grabbing the juice containers to put back into the fridge. The door falls shut with a soft bang, and you turn around to begin putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Yeosang has already managed to put the fruit into a container, working on the pancakes next.

A soft smile pulls at your features as you rinse the dishes, placing them in their proper spots inside of the dishwasher. You work from the top down, happy that the layout is similar to the machines you’re used to using back home. As such, you think nothing about your habit of lifting your one leg in the air behind you to balance yourself when bending down to close the dishwasher. The door shuts with a soft click, and you’re quick to stand back to your full height.

A low, rumbling growl fills the air, causing a shiver to rush down your spine. 

You turn around slowly, suddenly aware of the thick tension filling the room. Your eyes are wide, heart skipping a beat as you see Yeosang standing mere feet away from you with a predatory look in his eyes. Black veins trickle out over his cheeks, that brilliant amber pulsing within his dark gaze.

“Uh…” Your eyes dart to the side, unsure of what you did to have him looking at you so intensely. Your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, and that’s when you realize: oh yeah, you’re only wearing his shirt.

When you bent over to close the dishwasher, Yeosang more than likely got a perfect view of your ass and, or your bare cunt.

Heat immediately flares to your cheeks, heart skipping a beat in excitement. The ways he’s looking at you… You could drown in it.

“Get on the fucking counter, Dearest,” Slowly, Yeosang begins stalking towards you, that dark predatory look still in his eyes. “I want to hear My Songbird sing.”

You balance yourself on the edge of the counter with your hand, your stomach flipping in pleasure at the intensity of his stare. Your breath catches, feeling yourself clench lightly around nothing as you subconsciously take a step backwards.

Yeosang is before you in the blink of an eye, pressing you back into the edge of the counter. The tip of his nose ghosts over your pulse, his face buried in the side of your neck as you brace yourself against the granite.

Slow hands caress your outer thighs, sliding upwards and pushing the material of the shirt you wear with them. The feather-like caresses cause tingles to erupt over your skin, a soft gasp escaping you as he suddenly lifts you onto the cool surface of the counter.

Your thighs part naturally as Yeosang slots himself between them, his tongue flicking out against the skin of your neck.

“You smell delectable, My Dear,” A gentle nibble is given to your neck, his fangs scraping against your skin. “I could live off of the scent of us mixed together that radiates from your skin.”

As if to prove his point, Yeosang inhales deeply into the side of your neck.

A stuttering moan escapes him, whole body shivering in delight. His hands softly caress over the tops of your thighs, kneading gently at your flesh as he pulls you in closer to him. Already, you can feel the outline of his semi-hard cock pressing against your core, nothing but the thin material of his underwear separating you from each other.

Ever so slowly, Yeosang purposefully laves his tongue upwards from the base of your throat to your jawline. His lips suckle at your skin, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses across your jaw until he reaches your mouth. The way your lips are parted allows him to easily slip his tongue through them, kissing you with a newfound hunger as he holds you close.

Your arms settle around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair as you happily kiss him back. The movement of his tongue is slow and sensuous, making your head spin as you whimper against his lips. A surprised whine catches in your throat as he brings his hands around to squeeze your ass, pulling you flush against him.

You hook your ankles behind his back, tugging him in even closer and refusing to let him go.

A pleased rumble shakes his chest.

“That’s it, Dearest,” His fangs nibble at your lower lip, piercing the skin gently and causing you to gasp. “I want to feel you clinging to me as I make you scream my name.”

The tip of his tongue flicks over the small puncture he’s just made with his fang, tracing over your lips as he suckles gently at the wound.

“Everything about you is fucking addictive, Beloved,” Another sharp nip is given to your lower lip, suckling eagerly at the blood that trickles from the fresh punctures he’s just made. “Do me a favour and just enjoy yourself, yeah? I don’t want you thinking of anything but me today. Do you understand?”

The sharp look he wears as he pulls away to meet your gaze says it all.

Your stomach flips, clenching hard around nothing as you feel pleasure beginning to pool within your core.

“Yes, Sangie,” Your eyes hood over, breathing deepening slightly as you reach up to brush some hair off of his face. “I understand, My King.”

“Good Girl.”

The snarl he lets out goes right to your core, and you cannot help the whimper that escapes your lips. Your hips involuntarily jerk forwards, nails pressing a little harder into his skin.

“Gonna worship this pretty pussy all fucking day,” His thumb traces dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, brushing gently over the sensitive, innermost part. “Wanna hear you crying out for me in bliss as you flood my every sense.”

Your lips part, soft pants beginning to escape you as he rolls his hips into your own. The outline of his cock presses directly against your clit, and you swear that you can even feel yourself beginning to soak through the material of his underwear.

“Such a beautiful sight,” His one hand comes up to caress over the side of your face, eyes flicking everywhere over your features as if committing this moment to memory. Of which, you just know he is. “I served you a feast. Now, it’s time for you to serve me mine.”

Slowly, Yeosang begins sinking to his knees. Never once does he break eye contact with you, his fingers sinking into the plushness of your thighs as he spreads you wide open for him to see.

The moment he lays his eyes on your glistening pussy, he moans.

“Fucking gorgeous, My Dear,” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, black veins crackling over his features. “And just in time, too. I’m feeling quite ravenous for you.”

“Oh-“ A soft moan escapes you, your whole body shuddering in pleasure. You feel yourself clench hard around nothing, a small line of arousal dripping down your ass.

The snarl that greets your ears lets you know he saw exactly how you reacted to his words. The fact that his eyes are glowing that golden amber as he stares, fixated at your cunt let’s you know just how true his words are.

“Dearest, if this gets too much, you immediately tell me to stop, and I swear to you I will.” Yeosang states rather firmly, eyes glancing upwards to meet your own. “Promise me you won’t let me push you further than you’re actually willing to go.”

“I promise, Sangie.” A tender look pulls at your features, heart fluttering at his consideration despite how desperate he seems to be. Warmth floods your veins, and you clench around nothing once more, his care and consideration only serving to turn you on even more.

The corners of his lips twitch upwards slightly before he’s turning his head to begin placing sloppy wet kisses along the skin of your thigh. His hands hook beneath your knees, lifting your legs and settling them onto his shoulders. Again, his fangs tease over your skin, nipping and suckling at your tender flesh and leaving multiple marks in their wake.

A sharp sting against the innermost part of your thigh makes you jump, a gasp parting your lips. Not even a moment later, pleasure floods through you as you feel him sucking at your skin, your one hand shifting to tangle in his hair.

A pleased hum reverberates against your thigh, Yeosang soon chuckling lowly. His tongue laves over the fresh bite mark he’s just given you, suckling at your wound and swallowing every drop of blood that he can. Tender kisses are placed atop the mark once he stunts the flow, chest rumbling in pride as he admires his handiwork.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’re going to be covered in me,” Yeosang growls, beginning to kiss his way towards your dripping cunt. “My marks.” The sound of a wet, sloppy kiss being placed onto your skin echoes around the room. “My scent.” Another sloppy kiss is given, lips trailing even further up your thigh. “My love.”

Tenderly, he nuzzles his cheek against your thigh, shuffling even closer so that he comes face to face with your cunt. He leans forward, sliding the tip of his nose over your slit and inhaling sharply.

“Fuck…” A stuttering groan escapes him, eyes fluttering shut as hot pants hit your cunt with every exhale. “What a delicate little pussy, already weeping for my touch.”

“Yeosang…” You whimper lightly, shifting your hips and seeking any sort of friction that you can.

Two of his fingers gently trace over your folds before parting you to him, his eyes nearly rolling at the sight.

“Absolutely breathtaking, My Dear,” He groans, licking his lips. The intensity of his stare causes you to clench, and a pleased rumble shakes his chest. “Do that again.”

Immediately, you comply, feeling the way your legs begin to tremble from how turned on you are in this moment.

“Fucking stunning, Beloved,” Yeosang growls, the tips of his fangs peeking out from behind his lips. “Such a pretty little pussy, and all for me to devour.”

“Yeosang, please-“ Again, you clench around nothing, your hips lifting slightly from the counter in need.

“Just lay back and relax, My Dear,” Yeosang’s low voice rumbles out. “I want to hear you sing as I feast on your delectable cunt.”

Without wasting another moment, Yeosang traces his tongue along the edges of your cunt. A pleased hum builds in his throat, his eyes fluttering as he savours your taste on his lips.

You clench hard around nothing once more.

You barely have time to react when Yeosang buries his face into your cunt. His tongue swirls desperately around your entrance, thrusting as deep as he can. Feral growls are breathed into your cunt, pulling you impossibly closer as his nose presses firmly against your clit. You can feel the fingers on his one hand sinking into the flesh of your ass, the other keeping you spread open, giving him unrestricted access to the innermost sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Oh, fuck-“ You choke on a gasp, clenching hard around his tongue as he curls that muscle deep inside of you. “My King!”

A pleased snarl reverberates against you, Yeosang pressing his nose firmer against your clit as he begins slowly fucking you with his tongue. Lewd wet sounds fill the air, only serving to turn you on further as he explores every inch of your dripping cunt with his tongue.

Not a single drop is to go to waste, swirling his tongue inside of you and focussing the very tip on the areas that have you gasping in pleasure. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, supporting yourself with your forearm against the counter as Yeosang seems to lose himself in your pussy.

Desperately, he thrusts his tongue into you, keeping his nose pressed directly against your clit. He shakes his head back and forth, a low growl filling the air as he focusses all of his attention on keeping his tongue pressed against the top of your inner walls.

At one particular calculated thrust, you feel the tip of his tongue nudge something inside of you that causes your thigh to twitch.

“Oh-“ A stuttering moan escapes you, tilting your head back as your eyes flutter in bliss. “Fuck- right there, Sangie- hah-“

You pull him in even closer, much to his delight. All he can offer you is pleased growls in return, listening to every reaction your sinful body makes and holding you close. His tongue continues to thrust into you, pressing firmly against your inner walls and ensuring the tip nudges against that special spot every time.

Your whines begin mirroring his every thrust, clit pulsing against his nose as he shakes his head back and forth. You can feel that familiar pressure building deep inside of you, feeling yourself beginning to rhythmically clench around his tongue.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and with one final thrust of his tongue, a loud cry is escaping your lips. Your back arches slightly as your orgasm washes over you, your thighs shaking around his head. Both of your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him flush against you and holding him to your cunt.

A feral snarl reverberates against you, only adding to the immense pleasure that you feel in this moment. Your chest heaves with every breath, body shaking as he doesn’t stop his ministrations for even one second.

“Oh, Sangie! Hah- Hah-“ Your voice is nothing but an airy, high pitched moan. “Fuck- Don’t stop- oh… Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

The way your voice takes on a slight commanding tone, a rough edge lining your words has him moaning against you. It makes your heart flutter, a surge of confidence rushing through you as you tug him in even closer.

“Fuck, My King! So fucking good to me,” You pant out, clenching hard around his tongue as he swirls it once more inside of you. Your hips begin to grind against him in time with his movements, your heart pounding away inside of your chest. “Just like that, Sangie- Oh!”

Another pleased snarl greets your ears, and you feel him finally remove his tongue from your weeping cunt. He flattens the muscle over your cunt, pressing it firmly against your core as he licks you from bottom to top. Once he reaches your clit, he’s circling his tongue over that sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, all while maintaining that firm pressure.

Your eyes roll at the sensation, and you feel my toes curl slightly. Suddenly, you find that your position has shifted slightly, your legs bent in the air as your feet rest lightly against his upper back. You can practically feel the muscles beneath his skin tensing as he keeps you pinned to the counter, ensuring that you cannot escape the pleasure he’s giving you any time soon.

Your clit pulses as he suckles that pert little bud between his lips, growling and moaning against you as his fingers dig into your skin. He takes his time between alternating between gentle flicks with the tip of his tongue, flattening the muscle and circling it firmly over your clit, and suckling that sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips. Occasionally, he’ll start flicking at your clit while suckling at it, serving to make your head spin, and thighs tremble.

“Oh, Sangie,” You pant, tossing your head back as the arm you have supporting yourself on the counter begins to tremble. You can barely hold yourself up for much longer, grinding your hips desperately against his face as those sharp, lustful eyes stare up at you from between your legs. “You’re gonna make me- ah…”

Your whole body shakes as your orgasm crashes into you. You toss your head back, your arm giving out as you fall flat against the counter top. Your hips thrash wildly against his lips, high pitched whimpers and whines escaping you as you cling to his hair for dear life. You can practically feel yourself dripping down his chin, your toes curling as you whine from overstimulation.

“Yeosang-“ You whimper, still grinding against his lips as he doesn’t slow his ministrations for even one second. “My King- Hah… hah… oh- Fuck, Sangie-“ A hiss escapes your lips, eyes fluttering shut as you completely submerge yourself in the pleasure he provides. “Don’t stop, Dearest. Make me fucking scream.” 

A snarl of agreement echoes against your cunt, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass. You can feel his one hand slip around to your front, two of his fingers teasing at your entrance.

The slow dip of his fingertips between your folds completely contrasts the way his tongue rapidly flicks over your clit. Each exhale is but a rasp on his lips, his chest heaving almost as intensely as your own.

“Gonna make me come again?” You lift your hips against him, grinding in small circles. “Hmmm, Sangie? Gonna make Your Queen squirt all over your pretty face?”

Another snarl of agreement is breathed onto your cunt, a predatory growl filling the room. 

“Yes…” The word is muffled against your cunt, but heard none the less. 

The way his eyes roll as he slips two of his fingers inside of you has you immediately clenching around them. The tips massage against your inner walls, curling rapidly inside of you and instantly finding that special spot that has you seeing stars.

A high pitched whine escapes you, keening from the counter.

“Oh… right there, My King,” You pant, your voice low and desperate. “Fuck- I love you so fucking much-“ Your breath hitches, squeezing tightly around his fingers as your orgasm builds beneath the surface incredibly fast. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna- fuck! Yeosang! My King!”

Your orgasm crashes through you so intensely, your body lifts from the counter. You can feel yourself gushing onto his hand, his lips gently suckling your clit between them as you squirt all over his face.

Instantly, your thighs squeeze shut, trapping his head against your cunt as your whole body trembles violently from the intensity of your orgasm. Nothing but pure pleasure floods your veins, choking on your whines as you attempt to catch your breath.

You can feel your release dripping down the skin of your ass, his fingers still working inside of you as you whither beneath him. Though his pace has slowed, his touch much softer than before, each brush of his tongue over your clit and his fingers inside of you has you twitching, gentle whimpers being breathed from your mouth.

Pleased growls echo through the air, his chest shaking with every exhale. The whites of his eyes have all gone black, pure amber burning within the darkness. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the veins on his face this black, or this widespread, but the ravenous look he wears only serves to turn you on even further.

The look should scare you, but instead, it sends a thrill rushing through your body.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from your cunt, sucking every last drop of your release from his skin. His tongue comes out to wet his lips, leaning in to slowly lave that warm muscle over your cunt, making sure to collect every bit of your essence that covers your skin.

“Mmmh, Yeosangie,” You clench lightly as he gently circles the tip of his tongue over your clit. “So good to me… making me feel incredible.”

Your chest rises and falls steadily, soft pants escaping your parted lips. Your head still spins from the intensity of your previous releases, whimpering lightly as he gently continues to clean you with his tongue.

“I’ve only just begun, My Dear,” His low voice rumbles out, nipping lightly at the skin of your thigh.

Slowly, Yeosang pushes himself back onto his feet, trailing kisses all the way up your body. His hands push the material of the shirt you wear upwards, exposing your skin inch by inch as he licks his way up your stomach before burying his face between your breasts.

A pleased sigh is breathed onto your skin, nuzzling himself against your chest happily.

“Sangie…” You sigh his name so tenderly, hands coming up to cradle him to you. “Need to feel you inside me.”

A tender kiss is placed atop of the bite mark over your heart that he gave you last night, contrasting the intensity of his previous actions.

“As you wish, My Beautiful Queen,” The words are but a whisper on his lips, his nose tracing over the swell of your breast.

In the blink of an eye, Yeosang wraps his arms around you. With ease, he lifts you from the counter, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. You can feel his hard cock pressing directly against your core, unsure if the wet patch soaking the thin material he still wears is from you or from him.

Your arms are wrapped tightly around his shoulders, placing tender kisses to his cheek. Trailing your lips downwards, you nibble lightly at his neck, pressing your teeth firmly into his skin. The way he shudders beneath your touch makes you smile.

Yeosang’s pace is slow, taking his time to walk with you held in his arms. Only, when you notice him turn down the hallway towards the bedroom, you’re stopping him.

You shake your head as he pauses in his steps.

“Couch.” Gently, your fingers play with the strands of hair at the back of his head. “Wanna ride you, Sangie. Wanna bounce on your pretty cock and make you mine.”

A guttural groan escapes him, his eyes flashing as his grip tightens over you.

“I’m all yours, My Queen,” Yeosang growls out, spinning around and marching towards the living room with a newfound purpose. “Fuck- you’re gonna look so pretty leaking over my cock, Dearest. Can’t wait to watch your tits bounce as you claim me as your own.”

You hum, lips pulling upwards in a pleased smile. Your lashes flutter lightly, feeling your core aching to be filled with his cock once more.

The bright light of the sun shines brightly through the large windows, illuminating the luxurious living room perfectly. From you high vantage point within the apartment, you can practically see across the whole city, warmth flooding through your body as Yeosang carefully sits himself on the sofa with you in his lap. Your thighs rest on either side of him, gently settling your core directly over his clothed cock.

Your lips are immediately back on his own, cupping his face in your hands and pouring all of your emotions into the way your mouth moves over his. You can feel his fingers slip beneath your shirt, tracing up your spine and holding you close.

Slowly, you begin to grind your hips over his own.

A guttural groan escapes him, his brow furrowing as his eyes flutter shut.

“Keep doing that and I won’t last much longer, Dearest,” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, blinking his eyes open to stare up at you hungrily.

You can’t help but giggle, smiling down at him as you lean in to place a quick peck to his lips. Lifting you hips, you reach between your bodies, slowly dragging your touch down his torso and over his stomach. Your fingers toy with the waistband of his underwear, snapping it playfully against his skin and loving the way he growls lowly in response.

“You want to see me fall apart before I bury my fat cock inside your sweet little pussy, don’t you, My Dear?”

“Guilty,” You giggle, placing your palm over his bulge and squeezing.

Yeosang keens beneath your touch, chest beginning to rise and fall dramatically as he stares up at you with dark eyes. His lips are parted, hands sliding over your ass and squeezing at your flesh appreciatively.

“Mmmh,” A soft hum escapes you, your lashes fluttering. “Still fucking adore the feeling of your hands on me, Sangie.”

“Good.” He gives your ass another firm squeeze, pulling you flush against him. “Because I never plan on letting you go.”

A choked moan escapes your lips, hips jerking against his own. Heat blooms over your cheeks, feeling yourself clench hard around nothing from his words.

“Don’t ever let me go, My King,” You breathe, reaching down to tug the offending material still clinging to his skin off of him.

Yeosang takes the hint, practically shredding his underwear as he rips them from his skin. A growl rumbles out from his chest at your words, his eyes bleeding that familiar amber.

“Never.” His lips curl over his fangs, an almost predatory look to his features. “I’m never letting you leave me now. You’re mine, My Dear. All mine.”

Your back arches as you keen into his touch, his words going straight to your core. You can feel your walls beginning to clench rhythmically around nothing, your breathing deepening as the need to feel him buried inside of you again becomes overwhelming.

Reaching between your bodies, you wrap your hand around his cock, feeling the way it pulses at your touch. You pump over him a few times, swiping your thumb over his tip and spreading the precome over his head. The deep groan you elicit from his throat is music to your ears.

You line him up with your entrance, Yeosang’s hands holding you steady while placed on your hips. His fingers dig into your plush flesh, veins crackling out over his cheeks as you teasingly drag the tip of his cock through your wet folds. You can practically feel the way you’re dripping onto his cock, a whine escaping your throat as you bump the tip over your clit a few times.

Finally, you press the head of his cock against your folds, slowly beginning to sink down onto him. Each inch that sinks into you, you make sure to squeeze around, your lips parted as you feel him filling you, as if he were made just for you.

“Never gonna leave you, My King,” You tilt your head forward slightly, resting your forehead against his own. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance, nails digging harshly into his skin as you fully sink down on his cock. “I’m yours. Now, and for all eternity.”

“My Queen,” His lips curl over his fangs in a snarl, fingers digging even firmer into the skin of your hips. “My Glorious, Wonderful, Beautiful Queen.”

You clench around him, whimpering softly as you begin to shift your hips against his own.

You start slow, simply testing the waters as you roll your hips against his. You hold his gaze the entire time, his eyes shining that brilliant amber as his hot breath hits your lips with every exhale he breathes. His hands help to guide each of your movements, low growls shaking his chest as his thighs tense beneath you.

“Never gonna let you go, either, Sangie,” You whisper, the words a mere rasp on your lips. “There’s no escaping me now. You’re mine.My King. Mine, and mine alone.”

“All yours, My Glorious Queen,” His answer is immediate, voice gravelly and downright predatory. “If you ever try to run from me, I’ll hunt you to the very ends of the earth to make you feel my love- my devotion to you. You’re My. Fucking. Goddess.” He emphasizes his words with a few sharp thrusts up into you, eliciting sharp whines from your throat. “And I’m Your. Fucking. King.”

Your lips fall open with a gasp, eyes rolling slightly as he repeats the same movements as before. The emphasis he puts on each growled word goes straight to your core, clenching hard around him as you sit up to your full height.

Harsh pants fall from your lips as you begin to bounce lightly on his cock. The tip is angled just right, brushing against that sensitive spot deep inside of you every time he sinks into your core. You feel so full with his cock buried deep within your warmth, your hands gripping onto his shoulders tightly for balance as he kneads the flesh of your ass desperately.

“Fuck- Look at you,” Yeosang’s voice rumbles out, deep and gravelly. He tilts his head back slightly to rest on the back of the couch, admiring you above him. “What a glorious vision you are, My Queen-“ A shaky moan cuts his words short, lashes fluttering as you clench around him. “I could watch you bounce on my cock all fucking day. Oh-“ 

He bites his bottom lip, managing to puncture the skin with his fang.

You strike, not wanting to miss this golden opportunity.

Your lips crash onto his own, tongue desperately tracing over that small wound. You hum against his mouth, suckling eagerly as his blood drips onto your tongue. It tastes much sweeter than expected, but then again, that could just be due to the guttural moan that Yeosang lets out as he keens beneath you.

“You’re gonna make me- hah- come, My Queen,” Yeosang’s voice is strained, his jaw tensing as a vein in his neck pops out.

You pick up your pace, ignoring the burning in your thighs and slight ache in your lower back as you work yourself over his cock. You can feel that familiar pressure inside of yourself close to snapping, leaning in to him once more to begin kissing and nipping at his neck.

“Claim me, Yeosang,” Your voice is but a desperate plea upon your lips, nibbling at his pulse as you squeeze around his throbbing cock. “Claim me as I claim you.”

Your lips part, burying your face into the side of his neck as you bite down harshly on his skin. There’s a small part of you that worries about hurting him, but the fact that he’s an original vampire negates that concern almost instantly.

The moment you feel something sweet and warm flood your tongue, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck! My King! Yeosang! Oh- Yeosang! Fuck- I love you, I love you- Yeosang!”

You keen above him, pressing yourself flush against his hips as your whole body shakes. Your orgasm crashes unrelentingly through you, your vision going white as you let out a high, wailing moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as you squeeze around his cock, feeling warmth flooding through every part of your body.

There’s this ringing in your ears that drowns out all other noise for the moment, your chest heaving with every breath. You dart your tongue out over your lips, something wet and warm clinging to your skin.

You swallow, an unfamiliar sweetness flooding your senses as you continue to pant.

Your arms can barely hold yourself up, his hands supporting you more than your own body in this moment. You can feel his warm come spilling out of your cunt, your combined releases dripping onto the skin of his balls as a few final spurts escape his softening cock.

You hum in pleasure, the world slowly coming back into focus. Sounds begin surrounding you once more, and that’s when you finally hear the heavy, feral snarls emitting from the man beneath you.

Blinking a few times, you manage to clear your vision. Shifting your gaze to Yeosang beneath you, your breath catches in your throat.

A rush of excitement zings through your body at the intensity of his stare. Yeosang looks every bit of the fearsome predator his kind is known to be, sharp teeth, glowing eyes, and animalistic snarls.

Red drips slowly in a singular path down his chest, blood slowly spilling from a bite mark on the side of his neck.

You flick your tongue out against your lips as realization washes over you.

You clench hard around his cock still buried deep inside of your warmth.

In the blink of an eye, you find myself pinned against the wall. Yeosang’s fingers dig unforgivingly into the plush skin of your thighs, his chest pressing right up against your own. You can feel each growl he emits rumble from deep within his chest, his blood slowly dripping onto the material of your shirt.

Suddenly, the shirt gets torn from your body, his hand moving too quick for your eyes to see.

Yeosang presses in closer, his blood now dripping onto the skin of your breast. A pleased growl shakes his chest, rolling his hips lightly into your own.

“You’re not going anywhere, My Queen,” His voice is the deepest you’ve ever heard it go, tone bordering on an animalistic snarl. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

A sharp thrust is given into you, causing you to gasp. You can feel his cock swelling inside of your cunt, becoming hard in a matter of seconds as he rolls his hips against your own once more.

“Thought you could bite me and leave it at that, hmm?” Yeosang noses at your neck, tracing lightly over your pulse. “That you could claim me and expect me not to reciprocate?”

A soft whimper escapes you as you feel him grind his hips into yours, the tip of his cock rubbing against that tender spot deep inside of you.

“I’m yours, My Dearest Queen,” Fangs scrape along your skin, causing your breathing to deepen. Your heart flutters in excitement, digging your nails into his back and holding him close. “I’ve been yours since the very creation of the universe, just as you’ve been mine. You belong to me. Me! You’re fucking mine, My Dear. I’m never going to let you go now. You’re My Fated. My Dearest Queen. My Glorious Songbird.”

Each loving term he calls you is emphasized by a sharp thrust into you. The wet squelch of his cock sinking into your cunt makes your head spin, pleasure radiating outwards throughout your body starting from your core. You can practically feel the way your walls pulse around him in time with your heartbeat, nothing but soft whimpers and whines escaping your lips.

A brief pause is given after his last thrust in order for him to pull away from your neck. He wastes no time resting his forehead against your own, a dangerously possessive look shining within his bright amber eyes. Despite the intensity, there is no mistaking the unrelenting and unconditional love that pulses within.

“My Beautiful Goddess,” Yeosang pulls out of you slowly, only the very tip of his cock left inside before snapping his hips sharply back into yours. “I’m Yours. Now, until the very end of time.”

A choked cry escapes you, your whole body shaking as you drip onto his cock. You squeeze around him tightly, head falling forward as he repeats the same movements over, and over, and over again.

A feral snarl builds in his throat, eyes glinting as he glances between you. You’re just able to make out the way he admires how his cock sinks into you, glistening lightly beneath the sun while covered in both of your combined releases.

“Fucking Beautiful,” Another sharp thrust is given, Yeosang pressing his chest flush against your own once more. “You’re perfection, My Dear… and you’re all mine.”

“Yours.” You moan, tilting your head back to rest against the wall.

“Mmmh, that’s right, Dearest,” Tender kisses are placed upon the skin of your exposed throat. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours,” You whine, his thrusts beginning to increase in pace, but only slightly.

“Again.”

“Yeosang-“

A sharp nip is given to your jawline, a warning growl rumbling from deep within his chest.

“Say. It. Again.”

“I’m yours-“

Your breath hitches as he thrusts a little harder into you, causing you to clench even harder around him as he buries himself within your tight warmth.

“Mmmh, that’s right, My Dear,” He nuzzles his face against the side of your neck affectionately. “Now, tell me how beautiful you are.”

“Yeosang-“

“Say it.” His voice is firm as he pulls away to stare deeply into your eyes. Lips curl over sharp fangs, his golden gaze dark and dangerous. “I want to hear you say how fucking beautiful you are.”

“Sangie-“ You choke on a gasp.

“Tell me!” His voice booms out, a snarl painting his lips as you feel the whole apartment shake around you. You can feel your cheeks flaring with heat as you clench hard around him in response. “Tell me how fucking beautiful you are right this fucking second, Beloved. I want to hear you say it.”

“I- I-“ Your mouth parts, moans falling from your lips as he snaps his hips into your own, beginning to pick up the pace once more. “I’m beautiful…”

Yeosang hums, grinding his hips lovingly into yours after a particularly sharp thrust.

“Again.”

You hesitate for only a moment. “…I’m beautiful.”

“Yes…” A pleased hiss escapes him, beginning to snap his hips into you at a steady pace. “Say it again.”

“I’m beautiful!”

“Yes, you fucking are, My Gorgeous Queen,” He growls, the wet slapping of skin on skin making your head spin. “Tell me again.”

A desperate, choked moan escapes you. You’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you claw relentlessly at his back.

“I’m- oh, fuck!” You hiss, your eyes rolling at a particularly sharp thrust. “Beautiful!”

“Yes… That’s it, Beloved,” Yeosang rasps, pressing you even firmer against the wall. His one hand slips from your thigh to your stomach, dancing his fingers over your skin before sliding his touch downwards and towards your aching cunt. His thumb finds your clit, flicking over that sensitive nub before rubbing in firm circles. “And who do you belong to?”

“You!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overstimulation making your entire body shake in ecstasy. “I belong to you!”

“Mmmh, that’s right, Beloved… You’re mine. All mine.” Yeosang hums, burying his face into the side of your neck as that familiar pressure begins building rapidly inside of you. “Tell me, My Songbird. My Beloved… My Beautiful Queen…” Yeosang laves his tongue over your pulse, the scrape of his fangs teasing at your ear. “Who are you?”

Without hesitation, you answer him.

“I’m Your Beautiful Queen!”

The moment those words escape your lips, you feel a sharp pain erupt on the side of your neck. It hurts for only the briefest of seconds before pure, unimaginable pleasure floods your very being. Your whole body begins trembling violently as you feel Yeosang bury himself deep within your cunt, the whole world going still as everything swells around you.

Then, everything comes crashing into you all at once.

A scream tears from your throat, crying out his name as you shake uncontrollably in his hold. Your orgasm bursts through your very soul, feeling the way you squirt over his cock what feels like multiple times, your release gushing out of you practically splattering against the floor. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, vision going white as your lips remain parted in a silent scream. Ragged breaths cause your chest to heave, stuttering out desperate moans and high pitched whines as you cling to Yeosang for dear life. You can feel the way he shudders against you, thrusting shallowly into you a few more times as he pumps you full of his come.

Deep, pleased snarls fill the air around you, both of his hands gripping your ass as he presses you into the wall. His chest sticks to your own, rising and falling in time with your breaths as your heart races beneath your ribcage. You can feel his tongue laving over your new bite mark, tracing lovingly over his fresh claim as his chest rumbles with nothing but pure pleasure.

For quite a few minutes, Yeosang holds you there against the wall. His cock remains buried deep inside of you, the both of you catching your breaths and revelling in your highs together. You can feel him beginning to place gentle kisses against the skin of your neck, tracing his lips over your jaw until he reaches your own.

A soft, pleasant hum is breathed onto your lips as you whimper against his. Your one hand comes up to tangle in his hair, the other splayed over his back and holding him close.

Pulling away, Yeosang nuzzles his nose tenderly against your own.

“I love you, My Glorious Queen,” His words are but a whisper upon his lips, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours gently. Yeosang stares deeply into your eyes, nothing but love and affection, along with a tremendous amount of pride, swirling within. “Always, and forever.”

“Always, and forever,” You breathe out, your lashes fluttering lightly as you completely melt into his hold. “My Yeosang,”

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x Vi

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, top!Vi, bottom!reader, strap on, praise, rough sex, reader is fem, not proof read so hold on

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐲: You decided to surprise your girlfriend on Christmas eve already.

𝐀/𝐍: this still counts as Christmas right?

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧e

Soft moans and pants were audible throughout your whole apartment on this Christmas Eve. You always knew that Vi loved Christmas, it was her favorite holiday ever gf since she was little. So what better way than to gift her a bit earlier this year.

Vi let the door fall into the door with the loud thud. You heard her heavy boots fall to the ground as made her way through the hallway. “Hey cupcake, how was your-”She had finally reached the living room, her eyes taking in your almost nude form. You had put on a matching red set, bought for this occasion in particular, next to you a neatly wrapped gift box ready to be opened by her “Damn” She mumbled under her breath, the shocked expression soon turned into her usual cocky smile “Is that all for me?”

You had caught your lip between your teeth as you let your mind already wander to those dirty places, you knew she’d take you. “Mhm” you hummed, your fingers trailing over the wrapped present. “You need to unwrap your present first Violet” You cooed, knowing fully well that calling her by her full name drove her absolutely crazy. “You know you don’t have to get me anything sweetheart” She trailed off but the twinkle in her eyes told a different story as she took a seat next to you.

You watched the muscles in her arm move, as she pulled away the wrapping paper to reveal a smooth black box. You could barely contain your excitement as she you watched her confused face “Come on open it” You nudged her, a devious smile still plastered on your face.

As she opened the lid and saw the smooth leather of the harness you had gifted her, she finally understood the whole act. “I see why you wouldn’t want me opening that in front of the family” She joked her hands running over the leather of the strap on. “We should try it out” You offered, your faces only inches apart “Unwrap your second present right here under the tree?”

She didn’t even take the time to undress herself fully, her pants pulling at her feet as she pounded her new toy into your wet heat like a mad woman. With each trust she released a deep groan directly from the depths of her throat. “Such a good girl” She panted, her hands gripping your hips so tightly that it’d leave bruises by tomorrow.

“Fuck Violet you fuck me so good” You whine, your thighs shaking out of pure pleasure. She licked up the sweat running down your spine. You were clenching around her like crazy, your juices rivalling the sound of your skin slapping. You didn’t care about the ache in your knees because she fucked you like she had gone feral, wanting more and more of this moment until your whole living room stank of sex and sweat. She hand came crashing down on the sensitive skin of your ass making you yelp “are ya close?” She panted, her stamina seemingly infinite as her hips still kept up with the fast rhythm she had set “so close”

You tried to get a hold of anything of her, with your hand aimlessly grabbing behind yourself. She instantly understood what you needed pressing her body completely against yours. With a pity full moan you released all over her length sobbing out of pure pleasure. She let you ride out your orgasm stroking over your stink as she pulled out. She collapsed next to you on the ground her breathing still heavy. “Best Christmas ever”

[ilovenewyork333]

thought of being a casual hookup with season 1 hopper. you meet at the bar and hit it off, it’s clear the two of you are only looking for one thing. so, he takes you back to his house; the two of you barely make it through the door before he’s all over you, kissing you and practically dragging you to his room.

he frantically pulls his jeans off, straining to contain his dick as it bulges through the fabric, watching you intently as you do the same. he’s hungry, desperate. when you see his cock, you’re not shocked at how long it is, but the girth really throws you for a loop. it must be the thickest cock you’ve ever seen. and by god, does he make sure you feel him stretching you out. he lays you down on the bed and fingers your tight hole, preparing you for his monstrous thickness.

“fuck, are you a virgin?” he whispers in your ear as you bite down on the pillow. you try to muster a response but his relentless digging into your prostate makes it impossible to formulate a simple thought. you just shake your head and groan as he slaps your ass before pulling his fingers out of you.

it’s viciously solitary, the few moments of being empty after he tortured you so sweetly with nothing but filthy words and three fingers. there’s nothing in this moment but you and him; him, and you, alone in his room, alone in the universe. at least, that’s what it feels like as he enters your hole so slowly you can feel every second pass. but you love it. if you had a choice you would never let this moment end. until he leans down and tells you how soft you feel around his cock. and then, until he thrusts down so perfectly that you swear every moment without him must’ve been some sick punishment for a crime uncommitted.

“i wanna keep you like this, on my dick like you can’t live without it,” he mutters, “you’re so fucking tight, it’s like your hole was sculpted to take my cock.” all this while he has you in a headlock, breath on your ear while he fucks you so hard the bed shakes. it is joy, it is agony, because even as he presses flush against you, so deep the world slows, you wish he was closer.

not much time passes before you’re both sweating messes. all thoughts have left both of you. nothing remains but the primitive need to be totally claimed by him. when he kisses your neck it’s too much, you gasp as you finish on his sheets, clenching around his perfect dick. he doesn’t last long either; he slams his cock inside you and grunts ferally my as he fills you with his seed. the two of you cling to each other, neither wanting to separate as you feel his load dripping down his dick and out of your hole.

eventually, as you gasp for air, he drags his cock out of you agonizingly. “fuck.” that’s all he can muster as he pants. he leaves one more smack on your ass before lying down with you.

“can i give you my number?”

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞﹒𝐩𝐭 𝟑

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! atsumu misses you while hes away, one call couldnt hurt, right?  ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip! a. miya x artist! oblivious! reader, nsfw, phone sex, use of good girl, sue me  ﹒ ◠ note!! final part! but if u want a part 4 or more atsumu content lmk! that banner makes me absolutely feral.. ౨  wc!! 3k   ˚ ۪˖𓏲 mood!! series playlist

[part one] [part two] [part four]

The apartment had felt quieter than normal, a stillness settling in that seemed to press against the walls. You sighed as you leaned into the couch, your phone resting in your hand. The sound of the narrators on the TV filled the living room.

He had left early two mornings ago, his departure marked by the sound of his suitcase wheels rolling down the hallway and his usual mix of excitement and nerves barely contained in his voice. The away game was a big deal to Atsumu, he'd spent the entire week leading up to it alternating between trash-talking the competition and pacing the living room as he ran through game strategies in his head.

You'd watched him as he packed, his energy electric as he tossed jerseys and clothes into his bag, muttering to himself about making sure to not forget his lucky socks. His excitement had been infectious then, filling the apartment and masking the thought of how quiet it would feel without him there, but now, with him gone, the absence was sharp and unavoidable.

You couldn't help but think of all the moments he usually filled, his loud singing while he made breakfast, his playful teasing whenever he caught you lost in thought, and the way he had a habit of draping his large body across the couch, leaving you to sit on the floor in front of him, and how you'd talk about everything and nothing until the night blurred into the morning. Two days without any of it, and the apartment already felt like a completely different place.

Your fingers tightened around your phone as you stared at the last text he sent, a picture of his team's pre-game warm-up. He looked so happy, his usual wide grin plastered on his face as he held up a peace sign with Hinata and Bokuto in the background. You smiled faintly, proud of him, but at the same time, you shouldn't shake the growing ache of missing him. His voice, his presence, and all the little ways he made the apartment feel like home.

The arena was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking against polished floors and the sharp whistle of the referee cutting through the noise. Atsumu wiped the sweat from his brow, gripping a water bottle as he stood with the team during the timeout.

On the surface, he looked every bit the confident setter, but his mind wasn't fully in the game. It's not as if he was playing bad, he just couldn't stop his mind from drifting.

He reached for him phone hidden away in his bag beside the bench and unlocked it to find the last text you'd sent. It was something simple, so you, a casual 'im watching, you'll do great tsum!', but he read it three times already, letting the warmth of your words replace some of the restless energy buzzing in his chest. Atsumu wasn't one to admit things easily, not even to himself, but he felt your absence more than he thought he would.

He hadn't expected it to be this quiet without you. Sure, his teammates were loud and the atmosphere during away games was electric, but it wasn't the same. There was a certain calmness in your presence, even when you weren't doing anything particularly remarkable. Whether it was your clueless remarks when he tried to joke with you, and the way you'd absentmindedly hum as you worked on something. You made the apartment and his world feel alive in a way he didn't think anybody could.

The hotel hallway was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights being the only sound as Atsumu stepped off the elevator, his duffel bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. His footsteps were muffled against the carpet, but inside, everything felt loud, his heartbeat, the rush of thoughts swirling in his head, and the nagging ache in his chest he couldn't quite shake.

The match had been grueling, leaving his body sore and his mind buzzing. Normally, the adrenaline would still be carrying him, the thrill of a victory filling every corner of his being, but as he entered his room, tossing his bag onto the floor, he couldn't help but feel hollow. The cheers from the crowd and celebrations with his teammates felt miles away now, unable to touch the strange emptiness that followed him.

Kicking off his shoes, he collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the stark, unfamiliar ceiling. Atsumu wasn't one to dwell on things, he liked to keep moving, to fill the quiet with noise, jokes, or distractions, but tonight, the silence wrapped around him, heavy and unrelenting. He hated it.

His hand reached for his phone almost instinctively. Opening your chat, he scrolled through the texts from earlier, his lips twitching at the teasing banter and you congratulating him on his win. Even through the screen, your personality came through so clearly, sharp, cute, funny, and effortlessly grounding. But the texts weren't enough. They were just words. He wanted more. He wanted you.

For a second, he hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button. Would you think it was weird? It was late, and he didn't even have an excuse other than the gnawing need to hear your voice. But before he could second-guess himself, he tapped it, holding the phone to his ear as the line began to ring.

Each ring made his chest tighten, the seconds stretching unbearably. What if you didn't pick up? What if-

"Hello?" Your voice came through, soft but tinged with curiosity, "Tsum? Isn't it late over there?"

Hearing you felt like taking a deep breath after holding it for too long, he closed his eyes, letting the tension ease just slightly.

"Yeah," He said, his voice quieter than usual," I just... wanted to hear your voice,"

There was a pause, one that felt like an eternity, before you laughed lightly. It wasn't the full, unrestrained laugh he loved hearing, but it was enough to make the corners of his mouth lift.

"Well, here it is," You teased gently, "How was the win?"

"Didn't feel the same, s'too quiet here without you," He said softly, his grin forming despite the exhaustion weighing on him.

Your silence this time was heavier, but not uncomfortable, he could almost imagine you sitting in your favorite spot on the balcony, processing his words, maybe fiddling with the hem of your shirt absentmindedly or biting your lip in that way that always seemed to undo him.

"I miss you too," You said finally, and it hit him like a wave. It wasn't dramatic, not even particularly vulnerable, but it was enough.

The words settled between you, like a shared secret neither of you wanted to disturb.

Atsumu let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, running a hand through his hair as a faint chuckle escaped him. But this time, it wasn't the lighthearted sound you were used to, it was softer, lower, as if you reached a part of him no one else ever had.

"Wish I could be there right now," He murmured, his voice dipping into something that made warmth bloom in your chest, "Not just to fill the quiet, but... I dunno, to see you, to really be with you,"

The words hit you harder than you expected, the honesty in them leaving you momentarily speechless. He wasn't teasing or trying to smooth-talk his way out of an awkward moment, it was just Atsumu, bare and unguarded in a way he rarely let himself be.

"You'll be back soon, right, tsum?" You replied, but even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow. There was a tremor in your voice, a longing you couldn't quite hide.

"Not soon enough," He shot back, the grin audible in his voice now, though there was a tension underneath it, "You've got no idea how much I-"

He cut himself off, the words catching in his throat. A beat of silence passed, his breathing uneven as he tried to find the courage to finish.

"Tsum?" You asked softly, your voice threading through the phone like a lifeline. It wasn't teasing, not this time, it was laced with something gentler, something that made his pulse hammer in his chest.

His name on your lips was enough to undo him. He exhaled sharply, and when he spoke, his voice was lower, rougher like he was balancing on the edge of restraint, "Ya don't make it easy for me, y'know," He murmured, his words drawn out, heavy with something unsaid.

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, his tone rich with a tension you couldn't ignore. There was no playful edge to it now, just raw honesty, dipped in a yearning that made your breath hitch.

"Every time I hear your voice," He continued, his voice rasping like he was barely holding himself together, "Its like... it's like you're right here, and I cant- I cant stop thinkin' about what it'd be like if ya were. If I could see you, touch you, hear you laugh 'cause yer too nervous to do anything else."

Atsumu's words were heavy, unfiltered, dripping with a longing that practically reached through the phone. You could hear the way his breathing shifted, uneven and shallow like he was struggling against the weight of what he was feeling. And then, a low, guttural groan slipped past his lips, quiet but undeniably raw, sending a wave of heat through you.

"God," He groaned out, "You've got no idea what yer doin' to me, do ya? I can't even think straight when it's you, the way ya talk, the way ya say my name like it's the only thing that matters..." His words trailed off into a shaky exhale as he palmed himself through his shorts.

You felt your face grow hot, your heart pounding so hard it was a wonder he couldn't hear it through the phone. You felt your core pool in your shorts as you listened to his shaky breathing.

"Tsum..." You whispered, your voice soft but laced with an edge of vulnerability you couldn't hide.

"Say it again," He interrupted, his tone almost desperate now, "Say my name,"

The way he said it sent another shiver through you, his voice dipping into something deeper, something that wrapped around you like a vice. And before you could stop yourself, you obeyed, his name falling from your lips in a way that left him completely undone.

"Shit," He let out a breathy moan, his breath ragged, "Im losin' it over here, I don't even care, just- just keep talkin' okay? Dont stop, needa' hear ya,"

His words were a plea, his tone dripping with an unrestrained intensity that left you dizzy. Every syllable seemed to pull you in further.

Atsumu couldn't handle the way his dick throbbed against his shorts, he craved and yearned for the sweet release, the intensity of his need, or his desire to hear you and feel you all too much, all past exhaustion seemingly slipping away with the shorts now wrapped around his thighs.

"Can never get enough of ya," The confession hung in the air like a promise.

You felt your fingers subconsciously trail down your body with soft whimpers as you listened to Atsumu, your noises only pushing him further.

"Ya gonna touch yerself? Wanna hear ya moanin' my name, need it s'bad," He said, his voice desperate as he began slowly stroking himself to the sound of your whimpers. He imagined how much better they'd sound if he was there, touching you, replacing the fingers that were now sliding down your puffy slit.

His words echoed in your mind, sending another rush of warmth through your veins, it made your heart race and your walls clench around nothing.

You closed your eyes, imagining how he looked with his big hands wrapped around his dick, imagining the blush that would spread across his face, how his skin would feel against your own.

"Bet ya look so cute right now, huh?" He let out, the strokes on his cock were steady as he bucked his hips up into his hand, letting the pleasure take over him in shuddering groans.

Your fingers were coated in your own wetness, you couldn't muster up anything, too nervous to form a sentence so you let your sounds do the talking for you. You slid a finger into your aching pussy, a soft moan leaving your lips at the feeling.

Atsumu smirked as he imagined the sight, "Just like that, fuck, ya sound so pretty, say my name," Atsumu mewled through gritted teeth, trying his best to hold onto his composure as his biceps trembled, pumping his cock sloppily, precum leaking from his tip and into his stroking hands.

"Tsum," You said in a low, drawn-out moan, the weight of his words spurring you on, leading you to insert another finger, you were glad he couldn't see the deep red that painted your cheeks.

"Hah, I bet you'd take me so well, wanna show ya how much I miss ya," He panted, feeling the all too familiar feeling of his climax swirling in his chest.

You slid your fingers in and out at a stable pace, the pleasure creeping up your spine as you arched your back, your clit rubbing against the flat of your palm forcing soft whimpers of need.

"Feels so good," You babbled, placing the phone down next to you on speaker so you could use your now free hand to rub circles on your clit. Your thighs trembled and your hips jerked up.

Atsumu's strokes became sloppy and messy as he neared the edge, "Are ya close? W-Want ya to cum with me," His voice wavered, his eyes now closed, fully concentrating on the sounds that were emitting from your mouth.

You felt your orgasm seeping into your core, the shake of your legs, the arch of your back, your mind was running wild.

"Yes, fuck, tsum, want you so bad," You mewled, the sound of your fingers sliding in and out of you filling the room.

The sound of your pussy drove Atsumu crazy, "Cum, baby, cum for me, yer such a good girl,"

His words were enough to make you spill over the edge, your orgasm hit you hard, and you couldn't contain the loud moan that erupted from your throat as your thighs snapped shut, your eyes rolling back in pure bliss.

Atsumu's climax followed soon after, being pushed by the sounds of your orgasm and the chanting of his name over and over. Ropes of white painted his hand and his jersey as groans of pure euphoria filled his hotel room, his hips jutting up into his fist to ride out his high with a shuddering groan.

The silence that followed was thick, hanging heavily between you. You both knew something had shifted, but neither of you seemed ready to acknowledge it. Atsumu was the first to break the quiet, his voice softer than it had been before, tinged with uncertainty.

"Uh, sorry, I-" He trailed off, the words clearly not coming out the way he'd intended. You could hear the tension in his tone and the way he was trying to find the right thing to say, but the weight of everything that had just passed was making it hard.

Another long pause stretched between you. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly, but it wasn't easy either. You could feel your heart beating a little faster than usual, your mind racing with thoughts. What does this mean? Where do we go from here?

"It's okay," You replied softly.

Atsumu let out a shaky breath, "You're sure its okay? 'Cause I... I didn't mean to make things weird,"

It was endearing, the way he still seemed unsure despite how confident he usually was. That vulnerability made the whole situation feel different, somehow. It was like both of you had just crossed a line that neither of you were prepared for, and now you were both trying to figure out what the next step was.

Atsumu took off his jersey and stared into the phone screen at your contact name, waiting for your next response.

"Yeah," You said, finally, your voice quiet, "It's just... a lot. I didn't expect... this," You weren't sure how else to put it, but he seemed to understand, his next words coming out more slowly, more carefully.

"I get it, I didnt either, guess I'm just... not great with this kind of thing, but I don't wanna make you uncomfortable," He admitted, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Your chest tightened a little at his words, and you found yourself smiling despite the awkwardness, "I'm not uncomfortable, just... processing,"

He let out a small laugh, a nervous one, "Yeah, me too, this is weird, huh?"

You both laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. You weren't sure where this would lead, or if it should lead anywhere, but for now, the air between you had shifted, and there was something strangely comforting about knowing you weren't the only one feeling a little lost in all of this.

"I guess we'll figure it out huh?" You said, your voice was a little more steady now, as you both tried to make sense of the unexpected bond that had formed between you.

Atsumu's response was quieter. but there was a gentleness there, "Yeah... we will."

navigation !

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

[part one]

[part two]

[part four]

[shadowdaddies]

hi! i firstly wanted to tell you how much i love your writing and how perfectly you write every character. you’re so talented😊

i was wondering if you could write an eris x reader where it’s at the high lord meeting or some other big event and reader is part of the night court, maybe related to one of them, but mated to Eris and nobody knows. maybe something happens like Beron insults her or one of the Inner Circle insults him and they accidentally reveal the bond by getting protective? it can have like soft, comforting smut as well if you’d like but either way, i trust you completely :)

thank you so much! you are so kind, this ask made my day. and I love this prompt, I had a lot of fun writing this💜

Heated Admissions

Eris x Reader

warnings: none

Shoulders rolled back, you schooled your features into your practiced Night Court facade. A deadly glimmer shone in your eye, confident smirk on your lips as you followed you High Lord and Lady into the chambers where the other High Lords were gathered. 

Heart pounded, nostrils flaring slightly the moment you entered the room, your mate’s presence intoxicating despite your best efforts to ignore him. Like a moth to the flame, you allowed your gaze to flick to Eris’s as you took your place across him at the long table, each of you standing behind your High Lords. 

Amber eyes were already focused on you, Eris’s eyes raking over you as though he were sizing up an unworthy opponent. But behind his piercing glare, Eris sending a wave of admiration and encouragement down the bond. 

You flashed him a cocky smirk, appearing taunting to everyone else around you, all the while sending him your own love as you leaned against the wall, arms crossed as you looked down your nose at Beron.

Azriel grew tense at your side, your hand finding your friend’s arm to give a comforting squeeze, internal satisfaction seeping through you at the confirmation that the tonic had worked. Unwilling to take any chances of your hidden mateship being discovered, you and Eris had each taken a tonic to dilute the scent of the mating bond - but you had never tested it until now.

While Azriel relaxed next to you, Beron’s murky brown eyes stayed trained on you, his gaze assessing in a different way as Rhys introduced you to the room. 

“This is my Military Advisor. She will be explaining our strategy against Hybern moving forward,” Rhys drawled, a lazy smirk settling over his features, violet eyes alight with challenge as Beron and Tamlin visibly tensed.

You stepped forward, hands clasped in front of you, nodding a polite greeting to the High Lords as you prepared to lay out your proposal for a joined strategic effort. 

You’d hardly opened your mouth when Beron guffawed, allowing himself a loud, mocking laugh through his sneer. He did not address you, not Feyre, instead looking to Rhysand. 

“You think that I care what proposal some young, lowborn female has to offer? Surely, Rhysand, things cannot be going so poorly for you in the Night Court that you’ve resorted to such sad excuses for leadership and guidance.”

Rhys’s power rolled off of him in dark waves, cutting off Beron before he could continue further. But it was too late. Eris’s eyes were glowing with barely contained fury, flames sparking at his fingertips as his gaze flicked between his father and you.

Azriel tracked Eris’s reaction as well, the Illyrian’s siphons glowing a bright cobalt as he misjudged your mate’s protective instincts as a threat. Wings twitched, your only hint before Azriel lunged across the table towards Eris.

Time seemed to slow as your adrenaline kicked in, hand flying for the collar of Azriel’s leathers as you pulled him back. Hazel eyes found yours, the spymaster uncharacteristically startled by the feral anger that left your entire body shaking. “Do not touch my mate,” you growled before you could register the words.

Gasps sounded throughout the room, Azriel’s jaw slack while he relaxed, nodding at you in understanding. You flashed him an apologetic smile before turning to face the rest of the room, bracing yourself to stand against Beron’s wrath.

Instead, a frightful smile spread fully across the High Lord of Autumn’s face, a wicked gleam in his eye as his eyes roamed over your body in a far different light than earlier. “Well, my son, it seems that you have more interests in the Night Court than I’d gathered.” 

The tension grew unbearably thick, Autumn and Night Courts poised to jump at each others’ throats in the blink of an eye. 

But it was Helion who cleaved the silence like a spell, the rich timbre of his voice blanketing the room in a sense of calm. “How wonderful that two Courts so often at odds with each other would find the greatest common ground, love.” The wink he sent your way before continuing sending a furious blush over your cheeks, “but I would love to continue the conversation which so many have journeyed here for, if our lovely Military Advisor would continue.”

No one dared to question the High Lord of Day, settling in as you spoke. Leaving the meeting, you felt surprisingly optimistic from the High Lords’ reactions to your plan, Feyre and Rhys encouraging you that you would debrief further in the morning. You didn’t miss the pointed look that Rhys gave you - one that would strike fear into most anyone - indicating the debrief would include divulging of information from you about the mating bond.

Bidding them good night, you turned on your heel towards the room in which you were staying, shoulders slumped as exhaustion and anxiety weighed you down. You shouldered the door open, thinking of your mate as you stumbled through. You had wanted to see him more than anything, but after the Inner Circle’s reaction tonight, you didn’t dare seek Eris out.

Spinning around, you locked the door behind you, letting your head rest against the wood as you sighed, mind reeling with the potential ramifications of that meeting.

“Something on your mind?” a familiar voice purred from behind you, your spirits instantly lifting as you turned to see Eris’s red hair glowing in the dim faelight. A feline grin graced his lips as the Autumn Lord sprung gracefully from the bed, the smell of cinnamon invading your senses as he strode closer.

“Are you alright?” you whispered, hand finding his sharp jawline as you searched whiskey eyes for any sign of worry. Eris simply chuckled, mirthful gaze set on you as he tilted his head into your palm.

Tongue flicked out against the skin there, to be swallowed by a warm, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. “I am just fine, my love. I am assessing my father’s stance on us, and will adjust my plans accordingly. For now, all I want is to be with you.”

His eyes were soft at the admission, unguarded emotion that he only allowed to you see giving you the peace you needed. “I’m all yours,” you promised, pulling your mate in for a searing kiss before you led him towards the bed.