#he can get so unhinged when pushed to the edge and i love it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

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second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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cherubfae · 3 months

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"you take me so well" || arcane x reader

With Silco, Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, & Jinx

I don't accept NSFW requests!

tags: fem!reader, female anatomy, smut, established relationships, reader is implied late 20s (Vik), late 20s-early 30s firelight reader (Silco), toy use, vik's reader also uses a cane!!, pet names

a/n: lmao me writing these like I don't have my bestie and I in mind for our faves <3

Silco

Smoke from his snuffed out cigar lingers in the air, mixed so sweetly with his fine cologne and aftershave. It's one of the few things you can focus on as Silco drills his drooling cock deep into your pussy. You grip the edge of his desk, your board tossed in the corner of his office, legs hooked loosely around his waist gasping with every drag of his pelvic bone against your achy clit. His grunts are wild, unhinged. His blunt nails leave crescent-shaped marks on your skin as he yanks you deeper onto his cock, his balls making a wet pap pap pap with every delicious thrust. "Such a good girl for me, darling. What would your poor leader think of you sleeping with the enemy? Being fucked so tenderly on the Eye of Zaun's cock? Oh my love--! My cock was truly made for you, hmm? Utterly divine." His lips smash to yours, fingers intertwined together.

Viktor

Ever the gentleman, at first, Viktor slowly lowers you down onto his thick cock. His large hands shift from your thighs to grip your hips, pressing you down gently til he bottoms out. "There, love, see? You always take me much better when you're amply prepped for my dick. You're such a sweetheart for me, I must reward your patience." His smirk curls, lips finding your neck. Viktor's hand gently strokes your leg, easing what pain and discomfort he could. He wouldn't move until you told him to. He knows how much you enjoy cock warming him. <3

Jayce

A soft whimper bubbles in the back of his throat, his cock head breaching your lubed, velvet walls with a gentle push. So warm and inviting, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around is just what he needs after a long, stressful day in the lab. His girth is impossibly thick, it's taken a lot of practice and prep for your tiny cunt to be able to take him. Jayce is always gentle with you, big thumb circling your clit in hopes to chase away any discomfort. "Shh, shh, I know it's big, baby, you're taking me so damn well. Want to stop? No? Okay, okay. Let me get some more lube, yeah? Oh, fuck, pretty girl. I felt you clench. God, I ache for you, baby."

"Fuck baby," she hisses, sinking you down further on her pink strap. Her hips stutter, raw muscle flexing beneath the strap's harness pressing into the meat of her thighs. She rears herself back, until the pink head of the dildo is almost entirely exposed before pushing back in with her hips flushed to yours. "You're so stretched out on my cock, lovely. So fuckin' perfect." Vi purrs, swallowing your moan with her lips.

Caitlyn

Tender kisses are peppered all over your face, her long hair falling in front of her face. She's smiling down at you, looking like an angel sprawled against her pillow. Your pretty lips drawn open into a wanton gasp, hips jumping up as her deep blue strap sinks into you fully. The strap buzzes to life, Caitlyn giggles at your little yelp. It melts into desperate pants and eager rolls of your hips. She's more than happy to oblige as she pins your knees to your chest and fucks you into her mattress. "That's it, love. You look so pretty taking my cock like a good girl. Oh, does that feel good, baby? I'm glad. You look so lovely, all fucked out and flushed. Such a pretty little thing."

Jinx

Her face hides at the back of your neck, hips pounding against your ass. Her lithe fingers curl around the messy sheets, her other hand curled at your hip. Glancing down at where you two meet, Jinx all but snarls out a moan, picking up the pace. The way the electric blue strap buries itself deep within your pussy is such an addicting site. One that makes her froth at the mouth, nails biting into your skin. "You should see how fuckin' well you take me, princess. Fits like a fuckin' dream, your cunt is practically drooling f'me!"

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#arcane imagines #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane smut #silco x reader #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #caitlyn x reader #jinx x reader #cherubfae 2024

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nrdmssgs · 9 months

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CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!

if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨

Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)

Does it make you nervous, when I stare?

Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.

Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.

One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.

One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.

Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.

All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.

So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.

"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.

You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.

"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.

"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.

"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."

"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.

You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.

The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.

"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.

"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.

"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.

You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.

"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.

"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."

Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?

Schatzi - little treasure

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rene-darling · 7 days

Text

TAKING- advantage of the strongest

He's been having a hard time lately, he's lost Suguru, his one and only, of course- you on the other hand are overjoyed at that fact.

It's annoying, after all, you've done for him, he calls out his name instead of yours, it's time you taught him a permanent lesson on manners.

P.s I TOLD YOU ITS NEVER GOJOVERRR RAHHH- [credits- __3aem on insta]

Also, follow my insta r3xni3 n text me, let's talk, im bored!!

...gojo Satoru...

Seeing Gojo with his head in his hands sitting at the edge of the school stairs wasn't a new sight for you, in fact for the past week you've been seeing him sitting there.

Crying, sobbing, or simply sitting in misery. He's always thinking of that damned suguru. Honestly, it was hard to get him to show you any affection with suguru around, and now that he's gone it's gotten even harder!

It's not that you hate suguru, you just love gojo, and seeing your gojo in pain annoys you, but. It also makes for the perfect opportunity to shove yourself in his life, when he's most vulnerable and make him rely on you

"what up 'toru?" Sitting down next to him gently touching his shoulder, you can't be too forward now. "..mhm, it's nothing." Hmm, well you knew it wouldn't be that easy, of course he wouldn't open up to you just yet! So you'll just keep trying- "come on satoru, this isn't like you, you're the strongest-"

"Can you leave? I'm not in the mood y/n." Running his hands through his hair he groaned as he hid his face. You got up without a word, it's fine, if he pushes you away you have many more ways to push back harder.

The continuing weeks during classes you would always make small talk, distracting his mind from geto. Then you'd buy him sweets saying that there was some buy one get one free offer, which is why you had brought one over for him there wasn't

You occupied him on the missions he'd usually go to alone, keeping him from feeling lonely. No matter how hard they were and no matter how much strain they put your body through you'd reassure him, you're fine!

He'd notice how you'd push yourself for him, it made him- feel. Feel something other than the constant sorrow due to Geto's absence.

He started reciprocating your 'kindness'. he would let you rest your head on his lap after a stressful mission and sometimes..he'd rests his own head on yours.

Shoving yourself in his life to replace the sorrows he felt didn't only include platonic relations. Every once in a while, whenever the feelings of loss came back too harshly, all he wanted was to forget. Get lost in pleasure, in anything, just- just please make him forget.

His tears which usually stained his face due to sorrow, now stained his face due to mind-numbing pleasure, his body was yours for the destroying, just please, please make him forget. Even if just for tonight!

" 'toru, use your words now, tell me what you want, hm?" You moved your hand ever so slowly, it hurt. "Just- just please, touch me, ruin me, do whatever you want. I'm yours, yours all yours- Suguru please.

Hah- fuck. He's so lucky he's Gojo Satoru. your gojo Satoru. You can feel yourself growing numb as you let out an unhinged chuckle "Sure Satoru." You try pronouncing his name with that same softness, to replicate that tone of pure love and kindness geto had, but alas, you never truly get it right.

Still, it's close enough for him. as he whines, bucking into your hand. You have half the mind to leave him like this, writhing on the bed, but you never do. This isn't the first time, and certainly isn't the last. You're sure every single fucking time you've seen satoru he's called out his name,

But, as you gaze down at him and as he stares up at you with his pretty blue eyes which spill with tears by the second, you can't help it. Perhaps you pity him, or perhaps you simply don't care if he's using you as a means to an end, since in return, you get to be the one fucking him dumb. And not Suguru, 'cause he's dead. But that's beside the point.

Rocking his world as his vision blanks, eyes rolling back as sweat covers him. You don't mind the pain of when he bites into your shoulder, you don't mind the fact that Suguru's name slips out of him more than your (can be fake) cock

But, for some reason you just can't take it today. Something takes over you, you swear, as you grab harshly onto his neck, gasps leave his throat as he huffs for air. "Wh- Ah pl- EAse- hah."

"say my name." "Wha- AHh-" pressing your hand down harder you're sure it'll leave marks. "Y/n. Fucking say it you dumb bitch." Tears fall down from his cheeks and onto your hand but it only seems to egg you on "Ah- mhm y-y/n please?" As you let go gits of his coughs fill the air as his pink chest rises up and down for air

Suddenly he gasps once more as you push against his prostate, you're far too pleased with him saying your name to let him rest, even to catch his breath.

His cries ring in your ear as his hands scratch onto your skin, leaving deep bloody marks in their wake he stares up at you with his tear stained eyes, mumbling only your name for the rest of the night.

You hope he's learned his lesson, and if not. You wouldn't mind teaching him another one.

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

like a stallion • r. braun x black fem reader

reiner loves taking you to the rodeo. It’s one of the places that the two of you love frequenting in terms of spending quality time together.

cw: pervy reiner (honestly just simping for his wife), black fem chubby reader, car sex, oral sex, reverse cowgirl, squirting, spit play use of pet names and daddy, breeding, self indulgent bc I am a whore first and human second. This isn’t a full fic, just a drabble

📝: minors get the fuck off of my page, you are not welcomed.

reiner loves taking you to the rodeo. It’s one of the places that the two of you love frequenting in terms of spending quality time together. The different shows, the various stands selling food and souvenirs for first time attendees and all the other like minded country folk that you guys found yourselves mingling with. But his driving force behind dragging you along to these events? The outfits you wore! It wasn’t uncommon for him to catch you sporting something skimpy, sexy and revealing. A tight crop top with cowboy boots and a hat to match. Complimenting that curvy body, tiny little skirts that barely covered that thick ass as he dressed in his t-shirts, thin silver necklace with a cross dangling from the end, Wranglers and matching shoes that compliment yours. His six foot five, three hundred fifty pound frame standing starkly over yours as you two walked hand in hand through the bustling crowd. The Rodeo was always the highlight of many people’s year but for Reiner..the main attraction was always you. Oh yes, he could barely contain himself as the two of you settled into your seats, excited to watch the bull riding competition. That glowing, rich skin glistening in the sunlight..your complexion the prettiest thing he’d ever seen and only amplified by the glittery sun oil you slicked yourself up with. Big bouffant curls tucked up underneath that hat and your gorgeous face peering up at him in excitement. It’s enough to make his heart flutter and face burn red, as it got him every time. “Look, babe! Did you see that?” Your voice reigning him back in as he derailed his train of thought to those less than appropriate. He couldn’t be vexed to pay those damn animals any attention when he was too busy watching your big breasts nearly spill from that corset top. “Y-yeah. That was really cool.” Delectable and succulent like two ripe melons..ones he wanted to get his mouth on so badly he could taste it. Flicking his pink tongue around those brown nipples; his vision adverting to your thighs shortly thereafter. Seeing that thickness squished makes him only want to part them even more. So thick it was mere seconds from ripping your denim. Knowing what lies in the center and he’s practically salivating to sink his cock between it. And what really sends him over the edge? Is when you guys decide to check out the mechanical bull and he’s watching you bounce around, he can feel his pants become a tad bit tighter. The thought of him being underneath you instead getting him riled up. That body was like the finest thoroughbred..stacked like that of a stallion and it drove him crazy with every passing second.

so honestly, it comes as no surprise when it comes time for intermission and he can’t help but to whisk you away to his Ford F350 parked out on the grass lot. Propping your legs up on the dash and console as he ate your pussy right there in the front seat. He couldn’t even be bothered to get your clothes off fully; letting those tiny denim shorts dangle around your ankle and leaving your panties on as he sucked your clit through the thin material like a man unhinged. “Mmmm…Rei. Wait, baby! Fuck..” laughing as you had to all but push him away when you reached yet another orgasm thanks to his mouth. Sloppily devouring that dripping cunt and savoring every bit of the flavor. A smirk curdled across his lips as they were stained with your sticky nectar. “What f’r, darling? It didn’t seem like ya’ wanted me to stop from the way ya’ were moaning.” But you were afraid if he didn’t, you’d wet both his beard and his t-shirt up. But your husband didn’t seem to mind one bit! Especially when he sank those thick fingers of his into your tight little cunt and drew the liquid out, leaving you spasming on nothing more than air once you came. “Now look at that..best fucking show I’ve seen all day.” The excitement between you guys only grew tenfold when you practically whimpered; begging him to unfasten his big belt buckle and let you get a taste of your own. Wasting no time in grasping at his cock, pumping it in your palm..inhaling sharply through your teeth as he had awoken your salacious thoughts as well. It didn’t take long before he found himself engulfed..those plump, gloss slackened lips swallowing that dick in its entirety. Your desire to please and drain him dry all but apparent by your needy whimpers that hummed so gently against his shaft. The sounds of constant sloshing and sucking like heavenly melodies to his ears. Sloppily drenching all nine inches in a haze of saliva. Regardless of the gagging noises and cries you emitted. It wasn’t until you glared directly into his eyes, fixated on you as he watched his balls disappear between your jaws and that shaft enclosed between your acrylic fingertips. He had to all but pry you away; leaving that mouth a disheveled mess..one he added to by squeezing your cheeks together and spitting onto your tongue. “G-ahh..get on top of me, baby..right now.” Demanding in that deep southern drawl; breath shaky from being sucked off so fucking good. Allowing you to crawl onto his spread thighs, setting you atop his lap and fully erect dick. Pulsating the second it made contact with that fat pussy. “Put it in me, please Rei…” immediately after finding yourself filled to the brim and being bounced around on that cock..thrashing around inside of you with your breasts pressing the steering wheel. Reiner reclined the seats back, watching in a full blown trance as that round, thick ass ricocheting off of him; catching faint glimpses of that grip each time you slid up and down. That creamy slick puddling between your flesh each time you took him. “Yeah..ride that dick. You’re fuckin’ me so good, darling..making a mess all over me..”breath hitching as he struggled to form a coherent thought. Being ridden like this made anything else pale in comparison and what truly took it over the top were the sights of you only in your white boots and hat..something so sexy about it! You’d look back, tongue extended out and a toothy grin on your pretty face as you fucked him senseless. “Mmm…you know how wet this pussy gets for you, daddy… ‘wanna nut all over this dick.” Declaring as you cried out loudly. You didn’t give a fuck if anyone spotted or heard the two of you at this point. The tinted windows were already coated in a hazy fog and the frame began to rock from the outside. Causing a calamity of noise.. with the combination of nasty smacking sounds, thunderous clapping of skin and expletives being hurled back and forth at each other. You telling him to slap your ass and grab your neck..even commanding that he rub your clit with those fingerpads to him telling you how badly he wanted to nut inside of you.

no one had ever fucked him like this and vice versa…that pussy was his and he’d fill the entire womb whenever he felt like it. It was only shortly thereafter, among your exchange that he was only mere seconds from doing so. “Hold still..fuck!” Aggressively grunting in your ear as he grasped those hips and pounded up into that warmth. “Yeah! Fuck this pussy, daddy..fuck it..ahh shit!” Cursing as you clawed at the leather dash; whimpers choked out by his large hand around your neck. You could feel that shaft pulsating inside of you and before long, his strokes became erratic..to the point he couldn’t even maintain a rhythm and he emptied that hot, creamy load to the rim..with baited breath and quite honestly, bitch like cries. “Fuck..you came in me so hard..filled my little pussy..” that high pitched, dumbed out, dizzy voice making him twitch..you had successfully drained him everything he had to offer; the previous one residing in your throat and all over your tits. Needless to say, you guys had to cut your outing short but the night was far from done, as he plans to go for another round or two once he got you home…once he found the strength to get you guys there! But one thing he did know for sure..

“Yeah..that’s what you get f’r wearing that sexy ass outfit around me..ya’ know I can’t help myself..”

was that he’d never be able to resist you, no matter what.

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opal-orchard · 1 year

Text

warmth & respite

18+ mdni!!! • fluff, smut (oral/face-sitting receiver!Ellie)

———

Ellie’s had a difficult day, only you can give her what she needs.

1.5k words

———

a/n: hi i’m nai! please accept this as my offering to the tlou community. i’m not new to writing or tumblr but this is my first tlou work and my first time writing a full smut so pls be nice lol. if there’s anything you want to see me write my ask box is open :)

i hope you enjoy it and if you do pls reblog and follow, i rlly want to make moots on this side of tumblr, you all are so unhinged and gay (my kind of people!)

The door to your shared studio slams shut, you don’t need to guess who it is —you could tell by the sound of her footsteps approaching the door. But you look up anyways and watch a disgruntled Ellie throw her dripping backpack onto the ground, her face twisted into a scowl.

“Patrols have been fucking insufferable lately,” she groans bitterly to no one in particular, removing her gear from her backpack and thigh holster.

You set your novel down and prop yourself up on your elbow, watching her intently. You know when she’s like this all she needs is you to listen.

She’s soaking wet, making her muscular arms glisten, and her tight black jeans and tank top press against her body. You salivate looking at how the fabric of her jeans hug every curve.

“I keep getting assigned to train Evan,” she continues, still fixed on putting away her gear, “He thinks he knows Every. Fucking. Thing!” She slams her drawer shut with a groan.

“And he’s so fucking annoying. Keeps trying to ask me stupid questions cause I like girls, and of course we had to take the river trail today, so that dick had to make sure I got all fucking wet!”

She glances over at you for the first time, and her demeanor softens. “Hey you,” she exhales.

“Hey. Sorry about your day,” you respond back.

“I need a shower, I’ll be back,” she says, heading towards her bathroom, peeling off her top as she walks, making you revel in the sight of her wet back muscles.

——

She emerges from her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, her short hair damp and a little messy. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she softly rubs her hand along your leg, as if to remind herself you’re tangible and alive.

“Hey babe,” she says with all the gentleness she can muster, a soft smile on her face. Your eyes meet hers, and time stills. You’ll never grow used to her calling you that, no matter how many times she does. Warmth spreads through your stomach anytime her voice is this soft and raspy.

“Sorry I was …like that earlier. Just had a bad day.”

Wordlessly, you crawl behind her and wrap your arms around her bare shoulders, pressing soft kisses along her neck and cheek. Her skin is soft with a tinge of lemongrass from her soap.

“No need to apologize, my love,” you say, pressing your face against the curve of her neck, “I’m just happy you’re home safe.”

“Me too,” Ellie whispers, planting a kiss on your arm.

You two revel in this moment—in the relationship you’ve built, full of warmth and respite from the violent, cruel world you live in. You think of all the ways you want to make Ellie feel good.

You turn her face towards yours and press your lips against hers. Ellie’s lips are soft and she opens her mouth to let you take the lead for a little before she kisses you back with intensity. It makes you moan into her mouth and she takes that opportunity to plant open mouth kisses against your jaw and neck.

The sensation leaves you breathless but you gently push her back before you’re too far gone. “Wait— Ellie, I— I wanna— can I eat you out?”

She bites her lip, and a playful smile forms, “Can you?” before returning to your neck. A challenge. You make your lips meet hers again for a sloppy kiss and undo her towel; Ellie gasps into your mouth at the sensation of the cool air hitting her exposed skin. A string of saliva connects your mouths when you pull away and she’s flushed, the skin under her freckles a dusty rose.

You wrap your arms around her back and press your clothed chest against her bare breasts, it’s your turn to leave her breathless with open mouth kisses. “Mmmm you feel good, babe,” she purrs, her head tilted sideways from bliss. Ellie grips your shoulder and presses your head deeper in the crook of her neck.

Growing needier, Ellie rubs her chest against yours. The sensation of her bare nipples against the fabric of your top making her breaths more erratic. You lean down to take one in your mouth and she whines, gripping you tighter. “Ooh shit!”

Kissing the space between her breasts, you let your hands roam her body and her skin is hot to the touch. Liquid pools on the tips of your fingers when you reach down to touch her pussy, her swollen lips spreading with so much ease. She’s soaking wet and scorching hot, and the contact makes her jolt with pleasure.

Ellie watches, transfixed as you put those fingers in your mouth with unwavering eye contact. “Shit,” she grits, in this moment, something snaps— and you both know what’s about to happen.

Ellie shuffles off the bed and stands in front of your face. She loves being above you when you eat her out. You pause and marvel at her curves from her chiseled shoulders down to her hips, how her figure widens and narrows, then widens again. How her taut stomach leads to her most intimate spot that’s hovering right before your mouth. You scoot to the edge of the bed and Ellie props her leg on it to give you access.

Bound by the urge to be more intimate, you wrap your arm around Ellie’s thigh and pull your bodies closer. Looking up to meet her affectionate eyes you’re overwhelmed with a desire to savor her, to pleasure her. No one else has ever made you feel desire and warmth as searing and intense as she has.

Dragging your fingers from her belly button to her labia, you use your index and middle finger to open her lips, and a swollen sappy clit greets you. You take it into your mouth to suck—your lips between her lips and moan at the sensation that runs through your body.

Ellie’s mouth falls agape and her eyebrows contort in bliss, “Oh you good girl, oh fu— just like that!” She cradles the back of your head and rubs your scalp affectionately.

You grip the flesh of her ass and thighs tighter and swirl your tongue around her clit and suck on her folds. “Ugh just like that,” she rasps, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, her hand gripping your hair a little tighter. You lick laps from her clit to her entrance and she bucks against your face.

She can get a little bossy when you fuck, you love when she tells you what to do, “Put your tongue inside,” she commands her voice raspy and breathy, she spreads her leg a little farther and pushes your face deeper in her pussy. You oblige, swirling your tongue around her swollen entrance before pushing inside. Ellie tilts her head back and releases a loud, guttural moan, so unfiltered and unafraid. You’re french kissing her pussy now, your lips pressing against and sucking her entrance to get your tongue as far inside.

Her juices are all over your lips and nose and cheeks, some beginning to drip down your jaw and chin.

“F-fuck, I need more,” Ellie gasps and with a swift motion she pushes you flat on the bed. She’s positioning her pussy on your face before you can ask questions, and she continues grinding into your mouth and nose. Your arms are awkwardly suspended in the air before you settle them on her waist.

You’re transfixed by her taste, her scent, her lascivious sounds filling the room, the sight of her head tilted back in bliss and her stomach flexing as she gyrates on your mouth. “Oh babe—oh babe!,” she moans, her face contorted and eyes completely glossy with pleasure.

She’s practically using your mouth and nose as she sloppily grinds her folds over them. Your mouth is growing sore but all you care about is getting her there, you stick your tongue back inside her, and she’s gone.

You grab her hips to help her ride through her orgasm. She releases a lascivious moan and bucks her hips one last time before she melts, her body limp and her chest heaving, her pussy sopping wet and throbbing. Creamy white sap oozes onto your lips and you lick it, savoring her taste.

You watch her stomach muscles flex as she lifts her leg to dismount you, and in this moment you realize just how dazed and aroused and transfixed you are. But content more than anything, that you could give the girl you love so much pleasure.

She collapses beside you and grabs your jaw, kissing you with tongue. “I needed that babe. I love you… so much” she says softly and licks her lips. She languidly wipes her thumb along your cheeks and puts it in her mouth.

You watch her and you both lay there motionless, placid from bliss, but it’s getting harder to see her clearly with the room growing darker. You peek out the window and the sun is setting in the summer sky, “Ugh, it’s getting late, I should head to Tipsy Bison and get you something to eat befor-“

Ellie grabs your arm and firmly pulls you back onto the bed in one graceful, effortless motion. She’s still laying there blissed out and it reminds you just how easily she can overpower you if she desires.

“I’d rather skip to dessert.”

———

a/n: in retrospect i don’t think this position would work unless ellie’s bed is really short…

i’ve read this over so many times i’m starting to hate it, so if there’s a mistake i apologize lmao. my goal is to not be so hard on myself and just write more lmao

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams x y/n #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #idk what else to tag #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams smut #nai writes

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rush-the-stars · 14 days

Text

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

━─━────༺༻────━─━

|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

━─━────༺༻────━─━

When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly.

But then he holds the food away from you.

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating.

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water.

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time.

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving.

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him.

He is rather pleased, though.

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it.

He laughs warmly, fondly.

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away.

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth.

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.”

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge.

The orange pops into your mouth.

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit.

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more.

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands.

You swallow the piece in your mouth.

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you.

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again.

You turn your face away from him. He sighs.

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.”

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.”

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.”

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.”

Stubbornly, you remain silent.

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears.

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.”

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve.

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.”

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way.

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?”

Suguru studies you for a moment.

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him.

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice.

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are.

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds.

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes.

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now.

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better.

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him.

He takes hold of you easily.

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick.

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter.

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay.

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man.

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight?

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch.

You seek friction and he denies you.

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again.

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?”

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.”

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat.

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest.

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.”

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning.

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body.

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers.

You glare up at him with glassy eyes.

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on.

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek.

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is.

You hold his gaze furiously.

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth.

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you.

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down.

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks.

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands.

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints.

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.)

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him.

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls.

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?”

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul.

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him.

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?”

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it.

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw.

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.”

Something inside of you snaps.

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you.

In an instant, you are back atop him.

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer.

He actually cries out in pain.

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist.

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have.

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt.

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him.

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again.

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared.

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest.

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance.

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him.

Not so pristine.

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him.

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.”

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.”

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.”

“Let me up,” you snap.

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks.

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more.

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard.

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you.

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.”

And for once, you don’t fight him.

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you.

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.”

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now.

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest.

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring.

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep.

***

Suguru wakes you at some point.

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing.

You whimper.

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?”

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash.

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.”

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this.

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.”

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy.

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more.

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind.

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light.

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.”

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.”

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too.

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?”

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings.

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard.

You ache.

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever.

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry.

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain.

Suguru lifts you into the bath.

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle.

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair.

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little.

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you.

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours.

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?”

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.”

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him.

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh.

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.”

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.”

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.”

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss.

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it.

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone.

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.”

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.”

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?”

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late.

The fever only worsens.

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day.

***

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you.

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began.

For once, you have shocked Suguru.

Enough that his lips part.

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant.

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds.

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve.

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit.

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?)

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed.

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp.

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind.

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—”

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him.

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together.

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.”

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers.

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously.

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought.

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face.

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again.

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you.

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask.

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin.

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin.

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.”

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.”

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting.

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough.

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse.

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.”

You curse this time.

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.”

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.”

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger.

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself.

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.”

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly.

You bite off a groan.

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.”

“Suguru—”

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you.

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?”

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child.

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.”

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration.

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?”

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so—

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving.

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns.

You force yourself to freeze, still panting.

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound.

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.”

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away.

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?” Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you?

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks.

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.”

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want.

You desire.

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast.

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—”

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob.

Your tears make him smile.

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?”

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you.

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly.

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl.

And then, “look at me.”

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless.

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.”

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable.

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry.

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?”

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching.

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.”

Without thinking, you obey him.

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief.

You cry out, clinging to him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.”

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible.

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.”

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself.

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.”

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—”

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.”

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss.

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.”

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.”

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat.

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly.

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted.

You sob.

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you.

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder.

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat.

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above.

Ice cold water pours on you.

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water.

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you.

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap.

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap.

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on.

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms.

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.”

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile.

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender.

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges.

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.”

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly.

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother.

You feel infinitely closer to him.

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can.

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even.

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks.

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?”

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest.

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.”

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him.

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now?

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his.

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again.

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep.

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth.

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.”

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner.

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.”

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again.

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place.

It’s like finally coming home.

#suguru getou x reader #getou x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x you #getou x you #getou suguru x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #cw: omegaverse #cielo's writing!#cielo writes!

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another-lost-mc · 11 months

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Wait a minute now hold on! Vampire Asmo makes the most sense to me out of everyone. He's the avatar of lust and what's most commonly known about vampires? Their bloodlust is usually the first thing one would think of. Like I already love to see the demons with the more "monstrous" attributes but this event? Flawless. This is purely me having an absolute thirst for demons being possessive and wanting to mark/scent their person up. 🤭

You're right—Asmodeus as the Avatar of Bloodlust is amazing. A little scary, though.

Vampire!ASMODEUS x gn!Reader, 1.1k words, nsfw, dark themes if you squint.

Content warnings: canon-typical vampire behaviour: possessiveness/jealousy, obsessive/unhinged thoughts, implied violence/murder, spicy towards the end.

more from the vampire!au

Vampire!Asmodeus whose aura is more alluring now, and it's stronger and more seductive than the strongest charm magic. He hopes he never has to use it on you.

Vampire!Asmodeus who falls even more in love with you because there's nothing more romantic than you willingly giving him your blood. He cries the first time he feeds from you because he loves you so much and you're so precious to him, and you taste so good...

Vampire!Asmodeus who is more sensitive to smell now than ever before. He loves your scent, but smelling others on you triggers possessive fury deep inside him. You should only smell like him.

Vampire!Asmodeus who is extremely clingy when you’re in public or around other vampires and demons. He’s not shy about being affectionate with you where others can see. He wants them to see how much he loves you. He isn’t shy about warning others to stay away from you if they get too close. His aura crackles with power and he growls, deep and menacing in his chest, at anyone that tries to touch you. It’s the only warning they’ll get.

(Vampire!Asmodeus who always knows if someone dared to approach you when he wasn’t around to scare them off. Your scent is tainted, and he gently coaxes the truth from you—you might not mention it if he doesn’t bring it up first. You shrug it off as silliness because everyone knows you’re together, and he hides his rage with fake smiles and gentle teasing. He waits until later, when you’re sated and fast asleep in his bed, before he goes hunting for vermin that should know their place.)

Vampire!Asmodeus who secretly likes taking you to public places where he can show off to everyone else that you’re his. When possessiveness simmers deep inside him, his emotions—his love for you, his lust for your body and your blood—amplifies tenfold. He's desperate for everything you can give him. Feeding from you and fucking you is so much sweeter when he’s overwhelmed with passion.

Vampire!Asmodeus who takes you to places like The Fall when he wants to indulge in a night of bloodlust and depravity with you. His hands roam your body and linger on your pulse points so he can feel your heartbeat beneath his fingertips. The heat of the dance floor causes your blood to pump faster and it enhances your delicious scent and taste even more.

Vampire!Asmodeus whose rumbling purr builds to a growl in his chest as crushes your lips together. He licks into your mouth and his fingernails dig into your hips when your tongue brushes against one of his fangs. His eyes blaze bright with possessive rage when he glares over your shoulder at the others watching nearby. He knows they're staring at you like a piece of meat, but they can’t have you because you’re his.

Vampire!Asmodeus who grinds his cock against you in search of friction because he wants you to know exactly how much you affect him. Bloodlust tinges the edge of his vision with red when you reach between your bodies and squeeze the hardened length against your hip.

(Vampire!Asmodeus who momentarily thinks about wiping that teasing smirk from your face by pushing you to your knees so he can choke you on his cock and paint your lips with his cum.)

Vampire!Asmodeus who can barely resist the urge to bite you now. He leads you off the dancefloor towards the private room he keeps on reserve for his use—he wants you so badly, he can hardly stand it—

Once you're alone, Vampire!Asmodeus rips your clothes to tatters as he backs you towards the bed and covers your naked body with his own. Your skin is so warm and glistens with sweat, and the sweet aroma of your blood and your arousal nearly makes him drool as he stares down at you.

Vampire!Asmodeus who is stunned by the love and lust reflected in your own eyes, and he wants you so badly but he won’t risk hurting you by rushing things. He murmurs his love and praise against your neck as his fingers tease between your legs and prepare you for his cock. He's so desperate for your blood on his tongue and your body clenching around his, but above all else, he needs to hear you say you love him too.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” he whines between open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “You’re so beautiful and so perfect, I love you so much.”

His eyes meet yours when you cup his cheek so softly with your palm. “I love you too,” you say, trailing off into a high-pitched moan as his fingers scissor inside you and stretch you even more. You arch your back against his chest and roll your hips to try and fuck yourself on his fingers, but it’s not enough. “Please, I’m ready, I want you so badly—”

Vampire!Asmodeus who finally sinks his fangs into your neck at the same time he buries his cock deep inside you. His hips move in sync with the greedy, slurping pulls of blood he coaxes from your veins. He groans when you come first, your body tightening around his cock like the sweetest vice until he comes too.

Vampire!Asmodeus who licks the wounds on your neck to expedite their healing. His mouth is smeared with crimson and his eyes are glossy and unfocused. He groans when you pull him to your mouth for a sloppy, desperate kiss as pleasure surges through you.

(Vampire!Asmodeus who wonders if you like tasting your blood on his tongue after he's fed from you. Part of him wants to offer you his blood too—do you think about it sometimes, like he does?)

Vampire!Asmodeus who slides down your body because he’s still hungry for you. He bites into the soft, plush skin of your thighs and drinks while your hands tangle in his hair. He chases the taste of your blood with the cum and slick that coats your skin. He alternates drinking from your thighs and making you come with his mouth over and over until your voice is hoarse from screaming his name.

Vampire!Asmodeus who gathers you in his arms and curls around you protectively when you're ready to sleep. He licks his lips and hums happily at the delicious taste of your blood and cum that still coats his tongue. He traces the lingering bite marks on your neck and thighs as you drift off to sleep, the neat lines of puncture wounds arranged in shapes of the letter ‘A’.

Vampire!Asmodeus who loves you more than anything or anyone else, including himself.

Obey Me! Masterlist

#obey me vampire au #obey me asmodeus #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #obey me smut #omswd smut #asmodeus smut #obey me asmo x mc #asmodeus x mc #obey me asmo x you #asmodeus x you #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #someone dropped this 🚩#gn!reader

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xythlia · 10 months

Text

𓏲 ࣪₊ warnings: toxic dynamics, mind games, possessiveness, jealousy, piv, use of clit/pussy/cunt, cervix fucking, mating press, choking, semi hate fucking (?), blood mention

feedback \ rbs are appreciated ♡

eep I hope I did unhinged asmo justice @jeschalynn

Asmo adores the fact that your love for him is double edged, expressed in a way that to an outside observer may not seem quite like love at all.

He doesn't want a different kind of love though, on the contrary he can't help but feed it, drowning you in displays of affection only to slyly shift his focus to another just to watch your teeth flash and your eyes narrow. To him, this is love. Every time he smells arousal dancing across your skin afterwards he can't help the yawning ache that opens inside, the one that calls to crack you apart and hold your heart in his hands and taste blood on your lips because after all isn't the point of love to consume?

And god does he want to consume you. You, so cute beneath him with your bruised, swollen lips and glassy eyes. With your mouth hung open he has a full display of those human canines, wondering if the pain of them piercing would be perfectly balanced with the pleasure of it coming from you. When you're so riled up you let him fill you to the brim with his cock, as much as he wants and he loves you for it.

But it's when you spurn him ever so slightly that has his cock throbbing, the sudden sharpness of your previously unfocused gaze as you purposely refrain from touching him.

"Oh, still feeling jealous are we?" He sneered, lips pressing against your cheeks with every turn of your head.

"If you want a kiss go ask your groupies," you murmur as your head tips back, tongue peeking out in a voiceless moan as his skilled fingers draw teasing circles around your clit.

It was funny, in a way only you could pull off, to still cling to jealous resentment with your legs on his shoulders while his balls slap against your ass. Asmo bit his lip to keep from giggling, that might piss you off a little too much and he didn't want you leaving. Especially not now. But it does little to hide the delighted smirk on his face.

He's loved that you love the same way he does from the moment he first observed it, you're the pool of water to his Narcissus.

"It's funny to you?" You bite back between gasps as he pushes your legs up towards your face, body braced above yours now. "You know how I feel but you still-"

Your voice trails off in a high pitched groan as he shifts the pace to slow but deep, cock nearly kissing your cervix with each movement. Asmo puts both hands against the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks and making your skin boil in white hot embarrassment as the squelching sound of your cunt fills the room.

"How do you feel, hmm?" He sing songs.

"Screwed up! You piss me off," your eyes are squeezed shut and you can barely force the words out against how good he feels, "your fans make you act crazy-"

In response every roll and push of his hips was skillful and the hand come to wrap around your throat and press on your carotid carried both tenderness and a warning. Through your fluttering eyelids you noticed his horns. Satisfaction, sticky and sick, welled up alongside your cresting orgasm making your thighs shake.

H fucks you like he's batshit crazy, eyes shining with something you don't have the capacity to identify right now, and pressed so close to you it's almost like you're one form. Calling him that always makes something crack inside him, and you stick your fingers inside the hornets nest every time.

Indents from your nails carve an angry red track around his forearm, but he's too focused on keeping that fucked out look etched on your face. Crazy, it's the only ugly word to fall from your lips and he knows you do it on purpose, knows you like what comes after and honestly so does he. Hearing your thin, strained whimpers doesn't make him loosen his grip on you.

That sharpness is back on your features.

"Don't get mad now," he purrs, shushing you.

The obscene noises of your slick cunt sucking him back in seem to grow louder and louder. Your eyes roll back as his pace finally becomes frantic, desperate to fill you up. "Besides, it sure doesn't sound like you're mad."

You squeak and slap his forearm which makes him relax his hold as you start sucking in air with broken hitches and blubbers of his name, for him to shut up, how much you love him, how much you want more.

He likes that you're the same, wired the same and with all the same buttons to push.

#something something love thats like starting at your own reflection until you become delulu #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me imagine #obey me smut #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus smut #asmo smut #om smut #asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #om! asmodeus #꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ kita writes

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spacedace · 5 months

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Fuck whatever DC is doing with the al Ghul's characterizations and story lines, I've decided that from now on the al Ghul's are gonna be DC's version of the Addams Family instead.

Now I don't mean just give the various al Ghul's the exact personalities of the various Addams and call it a day. That's boring, that erases all the interesting parts of the al Ghuls, that's just using "find & replace" and not actually adding anything. I mean give them the vibes of the Addams Family.

Keep the al Ghul's as the al Ghul's with all their scheming and machinations and world domination attempts but give them all the unhinged energy, the casually insane view of the world, the deranged levels of love and devotion for family. Make them that group where objectively they are batshit insane but also you cannot argue with the fact that they are indisputably the most stable and functional family in the entire universe.

They're creepy, they're kooky, they're mysterious and spooky. Ra's many opulent homes and impenetrable fortresses are a museum and the al Ghul's really are a screa-um whenever people come to see-um (or when they lay waste upon their enemies in a surprise attack that has been planned for months and is just the first domino in a series that will ultimately lead to achieving a far greater goal).

They all love each other and want each other to be happy, they express this primarily with stabbing and murder attempts (its fine, death is a thing that happens to other people).

And forget the League of Assassins being a cult. Just make the whole vast globe spanning organization a collection of cousins/aunts/uncles/dear old friends ect. No one (not even the al Ghuls, if they cared to keep track of such things) is sure who is actually related to them and who just got absorbed into the ever expanding family tree based on their vibes being right.

(Is Sensei Ra's father you ask? Well he's certainly someone's father - probably.

Anyway have you heard about Cousin Cheshire? Despicable poisoner of a young woman, capable of the most horrific things imaginable - yes she is the sweetest dear. Like I was saying though, she just had a baby!

Everyone in the family is just so excited to throw a baby shower to celebrate! Ubu has really gone all out with the spike traps, he does so love getting to welcome a new addition to the family.

Talia of course has cultivated a brand new strain of the most toxic plants imaginable to make a brand new kind of necrotizing poison. You know, as a nice little romantic gift for Cousin Cheshire and that young man of hers. It really is so important to make sure you take time for you and your partner to go on dates and have a few pitched battles to the death on dark rooftops in the pounding rain when you have children.

Now there is some to-do about it all of course, you know how family get together can be. Everyone is arguing over who should get to give little Lian her first weapon and what it should be. Nyssa is pushing for grenades but Ra's is insisting on a sword - he's traditional like that you know - but Dusan has the vote so far on throwing knives. You know the kind that have the little divots along the edges of the blades them to make it easier to get the poison you dip them in to stick.)

I'm just saying that the al Ghuls should be a delightful cross between the Bond Villains they were originally conceived as and the lovingly unhinged Addams Family. It just feels correct in my heart.

(Again keep the interesting aspects of the characters and the nuances of who each of them are like their drive to save the world through destroying humanity and their strong environmentalist leanings and their constantly playing 5D chess and everything, but like, take away the racism and the cartoonishly evil for no reason bullshit and give them some fun feral energy to go along with it).

#batman #ra's al ghul #al ghul family #talia al ghul #nyssa raatko #cheshire dc #sensei dc #no more racism and fucked up dark family dynamics #the al ghuls aggressively adore each other #violence and schemes is their love language #in the full au version of all of this i'd like to imagine how canon plot points change with the al ghuls having these vibes #Just imagine Damian still trying to kill Tim when he first ends up in Bruce's care #but instead of it being a ploy to get rid of a threat its because he's just so excited to meet one of his big brothers #and attempted murder is just how you tell someone in your family that you love them #Tim just SO CONFUSED because Damian is talking so animatedly about how happy he is to get to have some brotherly bonding with Tim #while ACTIVELY trying to run him through with a sword #idk how things change with Cass exactly but i feel like they would in this #like either David Cain isn't an absolute monster or the al ghuls catch wind of what he's doing & are like #This is NOT how al ghuls treat family! what is this shameful behavior! She can't even insult you while you fight!#fighting and violence is a perfectly healthy way to express your love but only if there's actually LOVE involved!#The Heretic & other Damian clones still get made but only because Talia just misses her son so much that she makes more of him #Nyssa has just been bopping around the world for a few centuries & pops up every now and then to have a death match with her baby sister #i just have a lot of strong feelings about the al ghuls deserving better and combined that with the vibes of my favorite unhinged family #Dick still hates Talia but Talia takes all his insults as her darling step son telling her how much he loves her #which only drives Dick even crazier #Tim rocks up to the League of Assassins during his whole trying to prove Bruce is alive thing already seen as an al ghul #Oh yeah that's Cousin Timothy he's one of Talia's kids - never met a truer al ghul in your life #You see how he blew up all those bases? Ra's cried he was so proud #Ra's spoils his grandkids absolutely rotten which is giving Bruce SO MANY gray hairs

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vaguely-concerned · 1 year

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I am absolutely positively irreconcilably LOSING MY MIND over what this:

(also... omg they're so cute here in their teeny tiny car)

is doing thematically when put up against:

the WEIGHT. the WEIGHT added to all of that when you realize that Lupin CHOSE to be Lupin the Third, and the first thing he chose as Lupin the Third was Jigen (Jigen's HEART, something a teen/tween Jigen seems ready to already half-believe doesn't even exist anymore fhsdfjka). recognizing something fundamental of himself in Jigen was what made him choose to be Lupin as we've known him all this time -- that one moment of connection, of true resonance, of 'whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same (utterly unhinged)'... after all his dad and grandpa each did to try to shape him in their image, that one moment of honesty from Jigen was what made him decide to be himself. and keep choosing that. for the rest of his life. he said 'fuck it, it IS a story, it's MY story, and I want my story to be with you if you want to come along for the ride'.

(and then from Jigen's side -- he's been pulling back from Lupin again and again in Zero under the reasoning that he's a bad influence, that he'll tarnish his life eventually because he's got something indelibly stained and broken about him already that he doesn't want to get all over Lupin as well, you sort of get the feeling that admitting how fighting a worthy opponent gives him a rush like nothing else was half meant as something to push Lupin away for good... and then to see Lupin just come to life because of it instead!! Lupin walks right past his gun and his skills and puts his hand on his chest and says 'no, this is the part that matters, this is what I want, the rest is just a fancy trinket', after pretty much every person we've seen Jigen interacting with thus far has only been interested in what he can do for them, as if he were nothing more than the gun. I mean. what was he supposed to do, not fall desperately and fathomlessly in love with this dude for the rest of his life??? unrealistic honestly he had no choice at that point. and despite all his fears Jigen goes on to be the one most stable and steady presence in Lupin's life, protective rather than corruptive. what a fucking relief that must be honestly, that not only did he not hurt Lupin by allowing himself to be closer to him, he helped him discover something wonderful -- with all his sharp edges he brought him joy instead of blood, and Lupin takes him along on that joy right through their lives, all the way up, through Part 5 and beyond. what the fuck. help. there aren't enough italics in the world to express what I feel here)

I thought I couldn't love this part 5 scene more than I already did but oh my god they've retroactively put in place the setup it's the payoff for and now I'm on my knees

#this will plague my neurons for centuries to come I just know it #jigen x lupin #jiglup #lupin iii #lupin zero #lupin zero spoilers #lupin iii meta #daisuke jigen #arsene lupin iii

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rinbowaman · 10 days

Note

okay so I went to the zoo today and it was so hot and sunny and I wore a sundress that was long but everytime I sat down or propped my legs up it kept riding up my legs. Can I get a small Drabble on how heelead would react had he been there with me? Just a small one? Pleeeeeeease???

Sure. I have time to draft a small something for you. Apologize for it being rushed by I’m at least semi-proofreading as I go. If it’s all good with you, this one will be a heethan Drabble. Seems appropriate.

Warnings: Heethan is a bit unhinged (triggered by you wearing a dress), dominant yandere, yandere love, some non/dubcon acts, sexual acts in public, some cursing…think that’s it. Just the usual.

“Hey. Hey!” Your yelps catches his eye as the wind rushes in between your legs, scooping and flaring the hem of your skirt to ride up your thighs. You ball up the loose material in hand, pushing it down to fall at its rightful length. Heeseung stands there with an aloof, but stern expression. His eyes darken, becoming glossy as he refuses the urge to blink. His jaw is clenched, and his teeth grind while his tongue pokes at the inner cheek.

Initially he didn’t care for the dress—it was too long and far more conservative than what he would have liked. It would have been nice had you opted for something that didn’t necessarily reveal your derrière, but perhaps a little leg wouldn’t have been so bad. When you stood firm about your choice in attire, he figured for the sake of time—and yourself, that he’d make you pay for it all later, once he had time to calm down from the minor frustration of seeing nearly the entire length of your beautiful legs covered. On such a warm, glowing day nonetheless.

But when the wind caught the edge of your skirt and its lining just right, and raising it, there was something so fine and delectable in the manner of how the bulk of material coiled around your upper thighs. Just below your panty line.

The way your hand desperately attempted to smooth it down, but the wind remained as the victor, and continued to lavish you with strong gusts. It was sexy.

The way the skirt kept slinking upwards as you shifted in your seat. Your expression grows frustrated from fighting against it, while his transfers to the look of a feral beast, watching as raw meat dangled in front of his curled snout. A deep instinctive urge rises from deep inside his chest as he watches the skirt go higher, briefly showing off the fabric of said panties—lace. Fuck yeah.

Whether you wore it because you knew it was his favorite, or if it was simply a matter of selected choice at random, it didn’t matter. In you, lace looked just as fitting as frosting on cake. He loved it. What he loved more was that you having it on, proved that you were not only just a doll—his one and only babygirl, but you were also a good doll.

His good girl.

The proof was in what was underneath that skirt. Without even realizing, he took back the harsh gesture in his earlier non-verbals, all expressing distaste for the skirts length. He never knew that the act of coverage slowly unveiling the prize was so appealing. That urge was beginning to coil up in his gut, causing a tingling rage that began to pulsate his member. It started to throb, as if it was breathing on its own. He wasn’t going to be able to wait any longer. Especially not with you blushing, gripping and pulling your skirt, holding it in place, on the verge of tearing up. Oh yeah.

“Come here.” He quietly tells you while raising his hand. You slightly pout as you took hold of it, and let him lead you to an obscured area. You assumed that he noticed the humiliation painted on your face, and was merely taking you to a private spot to fix yourself. Little did you know, he was about to do all the fixing for you.

“Stand here.” His tone continued to be calm and quiet, a bit elusive as he glares down at you through heavy lids. “Strip.”

You looked up, slightly gasping and rather appalled by his sudden demand. His tone went from gentle to firm; a bit demeaning actually. “W-what?”

“I said strip.”

He was serious. His expression and tone remained unaltered. Was he actually going to make you strip in public? Despite being in a secluded zone, away from open view, he couldn’t possibly think this was a suitable spot to do what those dangerous, bedroom eyes entailed. Tucking in our chin, eyeballs shifting to the side, you jerked the skirt up, when he stops you. “Slowly…”

You looked up and watched as he crossed his arms, stirring a look of slight annoyance as if you were purposely defying him. “Drop it.” His voice was still so stark calm. You did as he bids, and let the material fall back down to rest against your ankles. “Now, grab it and slowly drag it up.”

Perhaps he knew you all too well, because the way his dangerous eyes peered down at you, he could already tell that you were beginning to soak through those lace panties. He could smell it. And believe him, it was the sweetest scent that made his mouth water.

Your breath hitches as you watched him glare at you. The firmness in eye contact never breaks as he starts to lean his head back, and those black beady eyes glow from the shadow underneath the bill of his cap. You gush at the sight of that forceful, yet intimidating feature. What a man.

You drag the lace lining slowly, letting it subtly graze against your skin as it rises higher, and higher. You let out a breath, shaken and unsteady, as it slowly seeps beyond those small, pursed lips. Of course, you had on that favorite red color he liked—cherry red. All the better.

Your fingers and thighs begin to tremble, while your chest heaves. Watching as you attempt to force each breath to come out steady, but failing, he feels himself breaching a snapping point, when suddenly he hears you shakily spill out in such a chiming, bell-like tone…

“daddy?”

Snapped.

Without so much as a predatory command or heads up, he dives down and immediately grabs hold of your hips. Swooping a hand underneath, he loops your thigh up and over his shoulder, making you inherit the position for what was coming. Ripping those delicate lace panties, he’s shreds them as he forces his fingers to tear through the soft mesh pattern. Reaching up, he harshly grips the button front resting against your cleaver, and tears it apart. Buttons snap and fly off to the side as his cool hands warm themselves on your breasts. Huh…no bra. Good girl.

Squeezing and digging his fingers into the softness of those fleshy mounds, he reaches down and slips a finger in between your folds, avoiding direct penetration. Not yet.

His tongue swirls, licks, and drags up towards your clit. He coils his oral muscle around it, flickering the tip as his nose digs in. Tasting you, he inhales and releases a deep moan as he suspends your weight higher, causing you to lose footing with the one that remained touching ground. Your ankle dangles against his back shoulder as he forces his hold on you. He digs his fingers into your thigh whenever you jerked from the heightened sense of stimulation, causing you to have a moment of relapse and removing your leg off his shoulder. But he won’t let you off the hook so easily, especially when you’re spewing out moans that carried a hybrid tone of his name and gasps for air.

With tender kisses against the inner flesh of your leg, just underneath where those juicy, plush lips laid nestled, he takes a moment to show you his softer side in appreciating your skin. But it only lasts for just a few seconds, then he dives back in like a hungry wolf. Starved for your moans, he wants to hear more. Wants to hear you call out his name.

“Open.” He mumbles as he extends a hand upward, able to reach your throat and grab on while demanding you to open your legs back up. The sensation was too great, you kept clenching your thighs together, trying to restrict his access. But you knew better.

With your dragging against the planked wall, your body shifts up and down as you absorb the momentum of his act. The way he dove in, pushing his nose and lips against you, his tongue deeper inside you, your body hand no choice but to take in everything he was willing to give. And he gave a lot.

You choked out your moans, gasped for air, and breathlessly call out his name. Your stomach trembles, and your chest extends towards the sky, leaving your head to lay restlessly aback while you swallow nothing but the warm air. Your body is chaotic—not knowing whether to breathe or scream as you come undone, feeling him slurp and clean you entirely too well.

When all was said and done, he stands and places small, petal kisses on your lips, while his grip on your neck remains—and even tightens. Amidst receiving those petal kisses, you watch as he takes his free hand and dives it down. The sound of his belt unbuckling snd jeans unzipping causes your chest to panic as you grow both dreadful—and delighted, in what he was about to do. “Did you cum for daddy?” He asks laconically while placing another soft kiss to your lips. You nods with your brows slightly furrowed in despair, but also yearning for it.

“Good.” He calmly spits out. He makes you stare into those beady eyes as he swipes the tip up and down in between your folds, pushing it against your clit. “My turn.” For a moment, you watched as those eyes widened rather psychotically as his level of possessiveness grew. He was going to claim you in the way he does best…by making you scream. Whether anyone hears you is all entirely up to how good you could keep yourself quiet. Like a good girl, right?

“Say ‘please, daddy, please.’ And I might let you cum one more time.”

You nod as you bit down on your lower lip. Eyes watery, and cheeks flushed. He smirks and releases a dark chuckle. That damn smirk of his. It does something to you, every time.

“Ready?”

You watched his smirk grow wider as you felt the tip of his throbbing member begin to enter.

“Ready or not, here I come.” >:)

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last-words-ofashootingstar · 1 year

Text

Nothings gonna hurt you, Baby

Yandere Yang Jeongin x fem reader

a/n: cheese IN will always be my favorite and this request brought back my obsession with him "the second one was have Jeongin as a psycho (or something similar) like he is insane for you?" crazy innie for the winnie (sorry LMAO) . i had a lot of fun writing this and taking a break from FFF so i hope you enjoy

Nothings gonna take you from my side.

✫彡wordcount: 2.2k

ヾ(´〇`)ﾉ♪♪♪ song recs: Nothings Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: yandere, nonidol, hurt&comfort, smut w/ plot

ಠ_ಠwarning/contents: not edited , jeongin beats someone up bad, threats(not to reader), one line that implies he murdered someone, you asked for psycho so i came thro, crying (sexy&not sexy kind), extremely possessive, unprotected(ruh-roh), overstim, pet/nick names(innie, jeong, baby &baby, darling, princess), squirting, hair pulling, forehead touches( the crowd goes wild🔥‼️)

tags: requested by @bangmechann ( you're so sweet 😭 you didn't give a lot of details so i hope it's up to your standard and hope you like <3)

SMUT&MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"This wasn't the worst idea." You admit as you take another nugget from the container between the two of you. "Kinda nice." You turn and offer Jeongin a smile, and he returns it in earnest.

It was three a.m. on a Tuesday and you found yourself dragged out by your boyfriend to an adventure to get fast food because he couldn't sleep. At first, you complained, but you were starting to come around to it.

You had gotten your food and parked outside of a twenty four hour convenience store. He let you play your music on the radio, he always did. He opened the window per your request, he always did. He told you he loved you before he got out to grab you a drink and a bag of gummy bears to share. He always did. He kissed you passionately, like it was the last time he would see you. He always did.

He left you alone and hurried into the store. He hated the chilly weather, but he would never admit that to you. You loved it too much. And he loved you too much. He snatched up your favorite drink to share and a large bag of the snack, paying as quick as humanly possible.

The sight outside of the deserted store is one that makes fear grip his cold heart. Your car, parked at the edge of the parking lot, has a visitor. A man is reaching into your half-up window, trying to grab at the lock. You're crying as you try to scramble into the driver seat, to get away from him. When you scream, he knows fear for the first time in his life. "Jeongin!"

"Shut up," the man yells back, crossing the hood of the car and grabbing you from that window instead. He gets ahold of your loose sweater, pulling you closer even as you try to slip away.

He's frozen in his spot. His blood is both cold as ice and boiling in his veins. "Innie!"

He drops the plastic bag and is at the car in seconds flat. He's never moved so fast, but the way you're screaming has his entire being wrapped in fear and rage.

He grabs the man by his jacket and pulls him away. When did he become so strong? Is it adrenaline? Rage? He can't even question his sudden strength as he pushes the larger man to the cement ground.

"Jeong!" Your broken voice doesn't register in his mind as he straddles the man. He doesn't know what he's doing. He can only let his emotions take control as he beats on the man.

You open the car door with a trembling hand and slide out, falling to the ground as you watch the scene unfold. You use the car as leverage and hoist yourself up, simply staring: afraid to approach your unhinged boyfriend after the last time he was so pissed off; he had went and threatened someone with a bat. "Jeongin!"

His bloody fist finally stop, fingers wrapping around the man's collar and lifting up his limp body. "I should kill you. I should fucking kill you right here." The man splutters up blood as he tries to plead. "Fucking pathetic." He slams the man down into the ground. "That's my girlfriend, you piece of shit. I should gauge your eyes out for even looking at her! I should cut your filthy hands off!"

"Baby, stop!" He looks over his shoulder at you and you back off in an instant. You've only seen that look one other day. And that day ended with you helping dig a human sized hole in the forest.

"Are you okay, Darling?" His voice shakes, tight with anger. You nod, wiping away your stray tears with your sweater paw. "He didn't hurt you?" It doesn't matter if he did or if he didn't. He's going to regret even being in this parking lot tonight. You shake your head, quietly saying that you're okay.

He gives you a once over, your shaking form doesn't slip his attention before he turns back. "You scared her, you pathetic little shit!" He spits, grabbing the man's neck. "What were you going to do to her, huh?" The man mumbles something that can't reach your ears from your spot by the car, hugging yourself tightly. But whatever he says, it doesn't please Jeongin.

He lifts his fist again, and you turn away, hands over your ears. You lean your head against the cool metal and close your eyes as you cry as silently as you can manage.

He hates to see you cry because of anyone besides him.

You don't know how long you stay like that, but it's long enough for your breath to even out and for your eyes to dry. You jump when you hear him call out for you. You brace yourself on the back window and look over your shoulder. He's finally unmounted your would-be-attacker and sits back next to him leisurely, looking over at his bloodied face with a smirk pulling at his lips.

"C'mere, Baby." You're at his side in a second flat, crouching down and picking up his fist in your hands.

"Are you okay, Jeong?" You completely ignore the wheezing man next to you. You don't want to see his face ever again- even if it has been beaten to a pulp. You kneel next to him and revel in his warmth when he wraps his other arm around you.

"I'm okay, Darling. Don't you worry. Let me see you," he turns your head side to side to inspect for any signs of damage: only finding the emotional wreckage. "Don't cry cause of him, he can't hurt you. Look." You shake your head on his hold, pouting and trying to say you don't want to when he makes you. "Look, Baby."

The man's nose is bent out of place, lip busted and spilling blood. "As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine. No one gets to get away with scaring you." Jeongin turns his attention to the pervert next to the two of you.

"Don't you have something to say to her?" The man coughs out a few gumbled words, but it's not enough to please him. "Speak up, fucker."

"I'm- I'm sor-sorry." The bell above the door rings out loud enough to reach the three of you, and the cashier starts yelling, running back inside as she screams about calling the cops.

"Time to go, Darling."

—

You're crying again as the adrenaline fades away, cool wind whipping your stray hairs around your face. You don't know where you even are, you're so out of your head. So you don't register that Jeongin has pulled over on the side of the desolate street until he's tugging on your hoodie.

You're confused, mind fuzzy as you let him pull you into his lap and grabs the skirt of your night dress to pull you down. "Why'd we stop, Jeong? Wanna go home." He kisses you out of nowhere, holding you impossibly close.

He pulls away with a sigh and speaks slowly, looking up at you with glazed eyes. "My poor Princess." He whines as he holds your head to his, wiping your fresh tears with his thumbs. "That fuck really scared you, didn't he?" You sniffle as you nod, holding your hands over his.

"Was so scared, Innie."

He coos, kissing your forehead and whispering that you're okay now."Nobody can hurt you, Baby. I won't let them, I won't... not as long as you're with me. I'm not gonna let anything take you from my side. Yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"So stop crying. I've got you now." His words only make you cry harder. He's always there. He's always got you. He's gone to hell and back for you.

"Love you, Jeongin," you whisper into his chest as he cradles your head, rubbing the back of your head. "Love you so much. Thank you, thank you for saving me."

"I love you. I'll always save you. I'll do anything for you. Anything you want, and thing you need. It's yours, I'll make sure."

You lift up from his chest and prop your hands on either side of him. "Anything I want?"

"Yes, Baby, anything at all."

—

He gave you what you wanted the second you returned home, and you'd been wrapped up in the sheets for a good long while now. You asked him to make you forget everything, to make your mind blank. And by God, he did.

He made you stupid on his fingers. He made you cum four times before he even slipped inside you.

But now, he has you dumb on his cock. Laying back, one leg draped off the edge of the bed and the other wrapped around his hips, you're beginning to feel so much safer.

"My sweet girl," he groans, fingers tightening on your hips as he pulls your limp hips to meet his. "Oh, Darling, don't cry. It's okay."

"No- m'not, I'm not sad. You fuck me so good, Innie." You sing his praise as you force one of your hands up, sighing as it feels like it weighs a ton, and rest it on his shoulder gently. "I love you, love you. I want..."

"What, Darling?"He leans down and slows his thrusts, letting you gather your thoughts.

"I want you to keep me safe forever. Want you to be with you forever. Want you to fuck me forever. I love you, please don't stop!"

His heart swells as your words reach him, hungry thrusts returning quickly as he leans into your shoulder. "Oh, fuck. I love you, I will, I promise I will. Nothings gonna hurt you, Baby."

You bring up your other leg and lock it around him, keeping him as close as physically possible. The headboard is banging from the force of his erratic pace, undoubtedly damaging your walls- but neither of you have a single care in the world.

Even though you want more, your cunt is already weeping in overstimulation. You can still feel your clit buzzing from your previous orgasms and his unrelenting rhythm doesn't give you a change to recoup.

"Jeong!" You don't know what you're pleading for until he gives it to you. His big, warm, bruised hand grabs onto yours, squeezing tightly. It calms every worry in your frantic mind. It also makes the coil in your gut snap.

The squelching in the room increases ten-fold as your abused cunt squirts all over him. He looks down between you with his forehead on your chest, watching closely and holding himself back from cumming on the spot as you grab his hair roughly.

"Fucking fuck, h-oh my God, Innie!" "That's it, Baby," he begins rolling his hips slowly, hitting the breaks on your pleasure but never fully stopping. He know you at least have to breath, and it doesn't seem like you are as you pull at his hair and mumble incoherently. "My fucking Darling, know just how to take it."

He rests his chin on your chest and looks up, smirking at all of the tears which fall and wet your face and neck. "I fuck you so good, don't I? I make you cum so hard, huh?"

He wraps both arms around your torso and holds you close to his chest, flipping the both of you over and making you scream as his cock hits you at a new angle. "Right, Princess?"

"Yes! Yes!" When you go to grind your hips on him, he holds his hand against the small of your back and keeps you still. "Baby, please, need more!"

"Say it." Your mind, foggy with a flood of endorphins, takes a few moments to puzzle together what he wants.

"Oh, Innie," you cup his face and kiss it all over, speaking between pecks, "you make me cum so fucking good. Nobody ever did it like you do. Only you. Only you."

He bites back a smirk and rolls his hips up to reward you before stopping abruptly. "Say you love me."

"Jeongin, p-please fuck me."

"Say you love me, Baby."

"I love you. Love you so much!" Another small roll followed by stillness. You slap his chest as you cry, hits padded by the large hoodie you'd yet to remove in your feral mentality. "Jeong..."

"Tell me you're mine."

"I'm all yours. I'm yours. Please..." This time, the movement of his hips grinding up into your g-spot deliciously doesn't stop. He dips his hands under the wet edge of your hoodie and slips it over your head, pulling your makes chest flush with his. He holds the back of your head and you cradle his cheeks as he connects your foreheads.

"My perfect Darling... nothings gonna take you away from me."

—

#yang jeongin #jeongin #stray kids #stray kids in #skz #skz in #yandere jeongin #jeongin smut #stray kids smut #smut fic #yandere fic

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garoujo · 2 years

Text

・✶ ｡ﾟ sanzu’s trust in you is unwavering, but he still can’t help but check after dealing with a few traitors.

♱ warnings — gun play, f!reader, he fucks you with it, he asks you questions about loyalty, this is consensual, talk of him dealing with traitors, kind of comfort since you’re helping him wind down, he’s still kinda soft in this.

♱ note — some haru 4 the soul ! i’ve been meaning 2 write more 4 him 4 so long . so this was a good excuse <3

RETURN TO KINKTOBER MLIST ♱ REGULAR MLIST

sanzu is a vision infront of you from where he’s standing tall between your spread thighs, urging you to lie back on his deck as he lets the barrel of his gun lay against his temple like he’s scratching an itch.

he’s as pretty as he is wild and unhinged — his suit mused along with his hair, chuckling about how he’d been dealing with traitors all day but you could tell that his words were still wound up tight. his features tense along with his body until he looks over you and they soften ever so slightly.

your skirt is bunched up around your hips, panties already damp from the way he’s been kissing you breathless for the past five minutes, evident in the way your lips are swollen and you’re reduced to shallow pants, sanzu loves you like this.

but he’s just getting started.

“what’s that pretty look, angel?” he grins, showing you too many teeth and you’re sure it must be the same smile most traitors see before he puts a bullet in their skull — if they’re lucky enough to be let off that easy that is.

“hmm, answer me.” sanzu asks again and despite the command his voice is soft, words accompanied with an almost gentle graze of his free hand along your cheek as his thumb smoothes over the skin with a fond touch.

“i want you, haru.” he’s lost himself a little, he’s still reeling from adrenaline and you know the best way to bring him back to you, to bring him home and lure him into a softer state of mind with your body.

“atta girl.” sanzu swallows before his fingers trail between your breasts, placing featherlight touches along your stomach before they’re hooking around your panties to pull them to the side.

you’re already so wet, clit aching painfully and your thighs twitch at the first sting of the cool air you feel fan along your slick, trying to push yourself into his touch as you chase the friction you crave.

but the first touch you feel isn’t that of sanzu’s slender fingers, instead—it’s the cool barrel of his gun tracing its way along the inside of your thighs, making your eyes widen when it stops just short of your pussy. “haru.” you hum, urging his blown gaze to meet yours.

“shhh, shhh.. you trust me, baby. don’t you?” the low, saccharine tone of his words make something warm burst along the back of your neck, before he’s leaning in to press soothing kisses along your cheeks. “with my life.” you don’t hesitate, you can feel the slow, steady tap of his gun along your skin, but then he leans forward slightly to allow his other hand to curl around the edge of the desk before he tenses — lips teasing the shell of your ear.

“promise me..” sanzu begins, his tone is unsteady for the first time since you started this push and pull in his office, and you can hear the heavy breathes he takes fan along your skin before he continues, his teeth gritting behind the weight of his clenched jaw. “promise me, you’ll never betray me, angel.”

he doesn’t move but it’s almost seamless the quick flick of his wrist, the cool barrel pressing underneath the skin of your chin — a contrast to the too warm heat of your body. “promise. me.”

“i promise, haru. never.” you trust him but you still can’t deny the way the fear that licks at your spine makes your cunt twitch with the weight of a loaded gun, desire twisting heavy in your abdomen when you feel sanzu smear a kiss along the dip of your shoulder with a pleased hum, before the barrel is moved between your thighs again.

he believes you, you’ve never given him a reason not to.

the first swipe of the metal through your folds makes you almost jump, feeling his palm come to rest along your thighs to keep you pressed against the deck when the barrel tucks under the hood of your clit. you’re already so wet, embarrassingly as he lets the muzzle trace sticky circles around the swollen bud.

“only thing keeping me together, somethin’ as pretty as you in a world like mine.” sanzu smiles again and your hips buck when he presses down harder on your clit, your voice cracking with the next moan of his name as your toes curl from where your thighs are hooked lazily around his waist.

he can’t deny that having your cunt drool all over the barrel of his loaded gun while you swear your loyalty to him has him so fucking hard, it evident in the bulge in his slacks and the excessively distracting throb in his cock.

his bright gaze drops down to the place between your thighs, seeing the slick coat the metal making a groan kick at his chest before he’s tracing it lower — letting it grind into your pussy until the muzzle slips inside and you grab at his biceps.

“h-haru.. fuck, it’s cold.” sanzu presses another kiss against your lips, pressing deeper into your cunt while he feels the way your walls try to pull him deeper. you’re twitching and clenching around the barrel and he could lose his fucking mind at the memory of the feeling.

“pussy’s so greedy, angel. all mine.” you can feel his finger press against the trigger when he sinks in further, pulling it back a few centimetres again before he’s sinking back into you with a sharp exhale and a languid thrust.

every push of the barrel is loud and wet, echoing around the walls of sanzu’s office like he’s trying to bury the sound into the concrete along with every twisted, whispered moan that follows afterwards. the way you’re crying to sweetly for him only urges him to move faster, to begin a pace that digs more of those sounds out of you.

“fuck—look at you, gonna make me jealous over a fuckin’ gun.” he’s laughing, a breathless croon that makes your orgasm only twist divinely in your abdomen — but just before it bursts along your thighs, he takes it from you.

sanzu halts his movements, pulling back the barrel of the gun to rest it against the desk before he’s clicking his tongue and making quick work of his pants. he groans when his leaking cock is finally free from the tight fabric, fingering grabbing around the base before he’s moving closer to you.

you feel the sensitive head of his cock slide along your thigh slowly and his jaw clenches at the slight friction, cursing softly under his breath.

“my turn, angel.” the feeling of the cool barrel being replaced by the familiar warmth and stretch of sanzu’s cock when he sinks into you, is quickly sending you back to the edge you were so precariously dangling over.

sanzu groans, voice breathless and shakey and you feel like the room is spinning with how well he fills you up, his cock sliding so perfectly along the spots inside you that have your thighs twitching below him. “there we go, sucking me right in.. so fuckin’ good for me.”

you’re almost caged against the desk with how he’s curling over you, his breathing ragged at the intoxicating feeling of your walls wrapping around him, and you’re already so clouded with lust you don’t notice him pick back up his gun until it’s pressing against your temple.

sanzu’s hands move to your waist, slender fingers digging into the skin as he pulls his hips back—exhaling heavily when he rolls them back into you, his cock twitching and thickening inside you as he begins a steady pace.

but then he groans, pressing the barrel deeper into your skin as his hold fumbles, his other hand massaging your waist before he’s allowing himself to fall forward, his face now resting just above the crook of your neck—allowing you to hear the lust driven curses and whimpers that fall from his lips with each languid stroke.

“now promise me you’ll never leave, angel.”

#𖥶 ₊˚. — ktober !#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev x you #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo rev smut #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #sanzu x you #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo smut #cw.gun

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