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#please please please i just want to die and be rid of all of these issues. love gender money family psyche mind everything it’s just too
chaoticbardlady99 · 2 days
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Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me
Spawn! Astarion x F! Reader
Chapter Three: The Sun is Freezing
Synopsis: (1 year post Netherbrain) You and Astarion search through an abandoned ruin in the Underdark for a Ring of Sunwalking. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as planned.
CW: Violence, mentions of Gore, character death
*This chapter is the beginning of the main story
Disclaimer- I put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. The ‘Tav’ is my Ghost inspired Durge 💜 I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.
Chapter Two: Chapter Four: AO3
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“I don’t like this, Astarion,” you peer into the open door, “this feels like a ‘with friends’ kind of place.” 
 “I have a friend- you’re here!” The vampire says all too cheerily.
  You turn to leer at him through unamused eyes.
 “May I remind you that I am only 12 pounds and I’m still a CAT!?” 
  Astarion tuts at you while lacing up his other boot, “Cats are ferocious creatures and if all else fails- you can irritate the monsters to death.” 
 It hurts your feelings when Astarion says things like that- it almost makes you feel like he wants you to die on these missions.
“If you want to get rid of me so badly, you can just say so,” you say with an awkward chuckle, “no need to send me off to be killed on purpose. Gale sai-“
 “That is not my intention,” Astarion says sharply before scratching between your ears- a smirk on his face when you begrudgingly lean in for more, “I jest.” 
  You aren’t entirely convinced but that’s okay. You find yourself staring back into the entrance of the ruin. It’s pitch black and you can hear something down there. You can hear chattering and the scrapping of feet against stone. It feels all too…. Evil. 
  You peer back at Astarion who is now doing a final check on his equipment and is grumbling as he looks for something in his bag. 
 His curls fall into his face and Gods if only you were a person like you are supposed to be- you’d push them out of his face, trace the curve of his lips with your thumb before guiding his face to-
 NO! You shake your head violently, those are living people thoughts- not Ghost person or cat person thoughts. 
  An emotional support Cat Ghost could dream though. 
   You gulp when you look into the vault again. You’d prefer to stay up here in the Dwarven Ruin that is built on top of the massive Catacomb where an ancient and prominent Drow Leader has been laid to rest. 
  Why is he important? Well, he has a Ring of Sunwalking on his crusty old hands. 
    “Pspspspsp, come here kitty, kitty.” 
  All the hairs on your spine raise as a disembodied voice whispers through the cave. You hoped the “no one ever returns” warning would have discouraged Astarion from pursuing this lead, but no. He just saw it as a guarantee that no one else has the damn Ring- “always the optimist” or so his pessimistic, lying ass says.
 “Oh good, a crazy, cat loving, disembodied voice,” Astarion scowls, “because descending into a Catacomb isn’t enough of a horror already.” 
 “I really don’t like this,” you whisper. 
  Astarion scoops you up from the ground and puts you in his empty pack with a bag of holding. He contemplates for a moment before taking something out of his pocket.
 “Here,” he slips a ring onto your paw like a bracelet, “maybe you can try to cast sunbeam using it. I’m not sure how the logistics work with you being a cat and everything, but I’m sure it’s not, not doable.
“Just please, for both of our sake’s Darling, try not to use it unless you absolutely need to.” 
 “Aye aye captain,” you grumble and use your front two paws to help you see over his shoulder, “I’ll do my best.” 
   The darkness of the Catacomb is all consuming and heavy. A thick, rolling fog covers the ground and the smell of rotting assaults both of your noses instantaneously. The halls leave little to be desired and it seems this place has been abandoned for a long time now.
 “What in the wretched hells is this place?” Astarion asks quietly, “it’s atrocious down here! Not even a hint of decor- no one appreciates the dead anymore.” 
 “And never did, apparently.” 
   He snickers as he walks forward. You can smell his anxiety rolling off of him and you try to calm every instinct inside you that says to flee. This is a truly terrible idea- you can feel it in your paws. 
  Astarion continues to quietly creep along the wall and you continue to monitor the area for any nasty, creepy crawlers. It doesn’t seem too scary and you feel yourself and Astarion begin to relax.
 Then the trumpet comes on. 
   Astarion freezes and has his back against the wall to protect you. Using his shoulder as leverage, you peer in the direction of the trumpet sound and you nearly yowl in horror. 
  A massive, skeleton Drider is staring back in the darkness as he toots his trumpet for another group of skeletons awkwardly dancing- one of their ribs hits the floor with a hollow CLUNK. It’s friends look at the rib, pause their dancing to clap, and then continue to dance again. This cycle continues until the skeleton is completely broken apart on the floor.
 “It’s tooting a diddy of death,” you whisper in an attempt to break up the tension sitting like a weight in your chest.
 “He should really go back to his day job,” Astarion mutters in response, “I almost want to fight him just to get the music to stop.” 
 “Really? I think he’s quite good.”
 “Of course you do.” 
  Astarion side steps even slower now, being careful not to attract the attention of the Drider and his dancers. You are surprised at how attentive Astarion is being in regards to where he is stepping. Maybe you won’t have joint second funerals together after all. 
  The deeper you descend, the worse the creatures seem to become- skeletons that are at least seven feet tall, wraiths with piercing eyes, Black Pudding aimlessly wandering for another meal, and grim locks. Even worse- the entire Catacomb structure is in a circle that just keeps descending until you get to the ground floor so even if you do manage to find the ring, you’re going to have to go past all of these creatures again. 
  You realize you are holding your breath once Astarion steps onto the main floor and you force yourself to slowly release it. Your whole body feels like it’s ready to run and that chittering you heard earlier is back. 
  The main floor is decorated in gore- fresh and old bodies are strewn about, some unlucky individuals are petrified versions of themselves, and it smells awful. 
  There are open archways along the wall and the nicely adorned one is the room you’re looking for. Astarion goes to step onto the platform, but you hiss at him to stop just in time. 
  Seeing a Grick before it sees you is a blessing. From the third level to your right, you barely caught a glimpse of the creature's beak. The platform is a death sentence so back to crawling along the wall it is. 
 “This is such a pain in the ass,” Astarion mutters under his breath, “nothing can ever be easy, can it?” 
  You shake your head in agreement, but you are far too afraid to speak prematurely. Your eyes are zeroed in on the Grick and you are already planning how you’ll distract it so Astarion can at least make a run for it. It would have been nice to know a Grick was down here because they could have starved the creature out- now they are forced to work within it’s limitations. 
  It feels like eons before you reach the lavish archway, but you direct Astarion to the archway next to it. He gives you a look, but you just keep your paw pointed at the next archway. The book specifically said that the fancy archway was a trap.
  Astarion steps across the archway and you are instantly reassured that you made the right decision when a massive fireball sends the Grick flying across the room and splattering against the wall. You had sworn it hadn’t moved from it’s spot so thankfully it didn’t have the 411 about the traps. 
  As Astarion moves through the corridor, it begins to look more and more like a prominent member of society is buried here. The walls are painted brightly and, despite the lack of attention, the tomb seems to be holding up very well. 
 There are four coffins in the middle, each one side by side. The wall behind the coffins is full of slots for urns- several of them have crumbled under the test of time, but the drawings on the wall suggest that they served this man in some capacity. 
  You study the pictures in awe- whoever this was lived a very large life. A sad pit of envy fills your stomach. You wish you had paintings with you going into battle and saving the day or at least a family portrait. 
  The man had two children and a lovely wife. His wife adorns a beautiful ruby ring and he, shockingly, does not adorn any jewelry in any of the paintings. The wife is obviously the one who demanded luxury and evidently so did the man’s youngest daughter. The older daughter is dressed head to toe in knight armor and has a stern look on her face. 
 “Gods below!” Astarion whisper yells, “he’s not wearing the damn thing- hells, he’s not even here!”
“What!?” 
  You look over Astarion’s shoulder and sure enough- the man is gone and so is the rin- WAIT A MINUTE.
 “Open the wife’s,” you whisper, “in the paintings, she’s the one wearing the ring I think.”
 Astarion looks around the room to figure out what you are talking about and looks incredibly pleased with your detective work.
 “Look at that- you’re officially more useful than Gale,” he teases.
  The lid opens without any issues and it’s nicely intact- unlike her husband’s. Other people must have not noticed the paintings because there it is on her finger. The ring shines brightly and you feel like you are basking directly in the sunlight and not in this stinking cave. 
  Astarion gently slides the ring off the woman’s skeletal hand and puts it on his own- it adjusts to fit to his ring finger. He looks positively giddy when he looks over at you on his shoulder.
 “Now we just need to find out if it works.” 
 You go to speak, but another voice beats you to it. 
 “Come here kitty, kitty,” a creaking voice calls out from the statue of the man in the room, “I promise it won’t hurt.”
  You feel absolutely frozen in fear. Whatever this creature is thinks you are a normal house cat or they are trying to lure you both further into the tomb. Astarion’s entire body looks like he’s ready to pounce, but you gesture to just leave. Whatever this creature is- it is not friendly and it’s hiding somewhere neither one of you can see. The map shows that there is a hidden room somewhere, but neither one of you could decipher where. 
  Astarion casts Invisibility and begins to quickly sneak out of the room, but it’s too late.
 A lich comes out of absolutely nowhere and begins to cast a spell, but Astarion’s faster. It swipes out at you and Astarion barely dodges in time to save you. The lich goes down when it’s hit with an arrow of Arcane Interference and Astarion goes sprinting towards the door.
 Ignoring every safety precaution you’ve taken so far- Astarion attracts the attention of literally every creature in the Catacomb. An angry Beholder beast is somewhere because tentacles with eyes and mouths come sprawling out of the ground and reach for Astarion’s limbs. 
  You hold onto Astarion’s shoulder for dear life and scan your surroundings the best you can. Astarion leaps and dodges the slashing blades of skeletons and the hungry goo of the Black puddings, and all that is left is the damn Drider.
 “Trumpet man is on your right! His friends are laying down in the middle,” you scream. 
 “I KNOW!” 
   A flash of fire goes whirring past both of your heads and he begins cussing up a storm- finally using misty step to get by the musical Drider and his funky friends. Your head is positively spinning, but you are so grateful to see the entry way- you’re so close! 
  Astarion’s pace slows down for a fraction of a second and you see why almost instantly. The Lich is in front of the door and it’s waiting. 
  Time for some kitty magic. 
  You rub your paws together and focus really hard on the weave while you say the words for sunbeam. You hit the Lich and it goes up in flames- it’s enough to distract the creature and Astarion goes flying by him and out of the Dwarven ruin. The Lich and his various friends are hot on your trail (oops, didn’t close the vault door) and you have given up on all hope of surviving, but Astarion keeps running at a full sprint. Thank the Gods he doesn’t need to breathe.
  The exit portal is so close and right as Astarion steps into it- you feel an arrow go straight through you. You don’t even yowl, the shock in your body causes you to freeze instantly. You’re dying and there isn’t going to be anything you can do.
 Astarion is cheering and you feel the sun on your own fur. It feels nice, but you feel so so cold. 
  A pained scream and the feeling of grass makes you realize that Astarion has noticed the current predicament you are in.
“No- you cannot die,” Astarion chokes out, “don’t you dare die on me right now!”
  You nod in acknowledgement and you are struggling to hang on. You know you aren’t going to make it, but Astarion doesn’t know that. 
  You’re afraid to be completely honest. Will you just be kicked out of the body or will you be dragged down the ethereal current and to the afterlife? You want to stay with Astarion. You aren’t ready to leave him yet at all and you just found the Ring of Sunwalking for Gods sake!
  Only, it seems the world doesn’t care about that as you feel yourself being pulled away into the coldness of death once again.
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Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)
Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan
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dramarants · 6 months
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i only want love triangles if it's whatever fucked up polygon junmo kicheol and euijeong have going on
#the worst of evil#ranting#idk how to articulate how juicy it is#junmo's fierce protectiveness of his wife - he trusts her but can't help his jealousy fear or frustration while trapped in the situation#euijeong hurting but putting her own life on the line worried for her husband while unpacking the memories of her first love#she can't help but sympathize with kicheol and what he's endured; haven't seen much of how she feels rn but it must be c o n f l i c t e d#(not necessarily even in a romantic way but wanting to root for a person chasing their goals who was once so important to you)#(all while grieving her mother without the support of her literal goddamn spouse by her side)#and kicheol. also grieving and trying to establish a place for himself and his crew yet drawn to junmo despite the red flags#his panic and desperation when jungmo bled out on him which must have triggered his own memories of losing taeho#junmo who has every reason to despise kicheol barely concealing his general rage but protects him like it's second nature at every turn#all while conflicted as a bystander to atrocities (and now willfully leaving another cop to die to protect himself his wife and the mission#getting mentally and physically pummeled left and right just bc his superiors demand it from him#all to please euijeong's family by using the promotions to prove himself and get rid of the stigma weighing him down#like !!!#and haven't even touched on kicheol wooing euijeong against his buddy's wishes and in such a pure heart fluttering way#accepting the risk for a second chance to bathe in the bright light she used to shine on his life#OMG AND BIBI'S ENTRANCE!! junmo realizing her interest gives him leverage and agency but struggling to use it to his advantage#it's soooo messy and i'm obsessed#that funeral arc is gonna haunt me for years#as is the tension during the pat down which def was supposed to be like a gang pride/dignity/lack of power against the jp folks thing#also testing their relationship and responsibilites as leader subordinate#but felt charged around whether kicheol would protest or junmo would accept the manhandling in totally different 👀 ways#goddamn i wrote an essay and this doesn't even scratch the surface of the meat of the show#tldr; i have many many feelings and for once the 'love triangle' isn't making me gauge out my own eyeballs#it's about power it's about raising the stakes and revealing things about the characters w/o dominating the plot
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Vent under the cut about transphobia and panic and me being just upset
needed to get it out somewhere
"Reminder that trans healthcare is going out the window" "reminder that trans people are constantly in danger" "Reminder that everyone hates you" "reminder that" "reminder that" "reminder that-"
OKAY I GET IT. I FUCKING GET IT. WE ARE ALL IN DANGER CONSTANTLY. I AM IN DANGER. WHAT DO WE DO ABOUT IT?! WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO ABOUT IT. GIVE ME S O M E T H I N G.
I'm so fucking sick of "everything is terrible" there HAS to be something we can fucking do to save ourselves, there has to be SOMETHING. Please stop putting posts on my dash that are just "if you're trans, be prepared to die!" THAT IS NOT HELPING US. WE NEED SOLUTIONS. MAYBE THERE'S NONE BUT THERE HAS TO BE HOPE SOMEWHERE. I AM TIRED AND SCARED AND SLOWLY GROWING ILL FROM THE HATRED BEING POURED ONTO ME EVERY DAY. GIVE ME SOMETHING TO HANG ONTO. GIVE ME A BRANCH. A STICK. SOMETHING. A N Y T H I N G.
I'm so FUCKING tired. Please god. Stop just telling me nothing is going to be okay. Please. Please tell me something is going to be okay. Please.
Please.
please
i just want a crumb of hope
anything
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snekdood · 11 months
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You fucking idiots dont fucking get it. ive been taking care of plants since i was 14. Ive tried FUCKING EVERYTHING. Fungus gnats are just apparently gonna exist around me no matter what i do or try, apparently just like these yerfs who also seem to be breeding like maggots.
#please! non plant experts stfu forever.#please! if you dont take care of a grden or live by a heavily wooded areas and dont have any plants inside too that arent succs-#shut the fuck up forever!!#whatever you're about to suggest! ive fucking tried it!!!#but of course. like the yerfs you are you cant ever take me at my word for my own experiences. its always that yall know whats right always#and never that im actually fucking correct about the shit i talk about. like maybe its just really fucking hard to control their population#did you ever consider that sometimes you have to make sacrifices if you want to take care of something like plants? i have to wake up at 6#in the morning now JUST to keep the squirrels scared away from my planters. bc if i sleep in at all i risk letting my plants die bc of#their bs. unfortunately theres just shit that comes with plants that you have to decide whether or not your love for plants is greater than#whatever bs you might encounter while you take care of them. and unfortunately one of those sacrifices is having to deal with fungus gnats#and bugs in general. yall think its so easy to control bugs in my apartment. im poor. nothing is sealed here.#i had a fucking mosquito infestation. how does that even happen? i dont fucking know! but it did.#ive had a meal moth infestation. how did they get in? they were breeding in a little bag of old food i had for my hermit crabs.#how did they get in and somehow get to that bag all the way in my room? WHO FUCKIN KNOWS! I SUSPECT THOUGH ITS BC IM FUCKIN POOR#AND THIS SHIT AINT SEALED IN HERE WELL ENOUGH. i have bug problems all the time.#and you're gonna tell me its just suddenly so easy to get rid of gnats.#this is why ik none of yall *actually* take care of plants. like actually truly. outside of what. your succulents and the one palm you have#im really happy that you have plants you can deprive of water for a few days but i have marsh plants! i have swamp plants! I CANT deprive#them of moisture acrually! so its really not that fucking easy to get eid of the fucking gnats! i feel like i should have to fucking#explain this. if you actually took care of plants forreal forreal you would know they are just not fucking easy to get rid of.#but naw. im trans. so that means i never know what im talking about about anything or whatever and yall gotta act paternalistic about#everything i do. meanwhile im sitting over here ripping out my hair about how dumb and juvenile YALL are bc ik for a gotdamn fact if any of#yall ugly fucks ACTUALLY took care of plants outside of the ornamental ones you have this wouldnt be a discussion.#but naw ya saw a jokey post of mine about how i felt defeated in my ability to get rid of the gnats and decided i wasnt actually trying#bc for some reason yall gotta assume that no trans person actually just knows wtf theyre talking about literally on anything.#anyways i hope yall get plagued by gnats forever and all your planrs die from them devouring the roots.#its like yall are new souls coming in acting like you're an old soul and im the actual old soul tryna tell you what it is but yall are just#*so convinced* you're right because everyone says im the crazy old man on the corner so that means i dont know anything or some#dumb reasoning like that. like idk maybe this old man has seen some shit and knows some shit but sure im sure yall little asses know wrf#ur talking about. totally.
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lynx-tales · 4 months
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Why is it so hard to find clothing (especially underclothes and pants) that fucking fit.
Like, I know part of the problem is that I’ve gained a lot of weight in the last 10 years and I have a lot of baggage around it. But. Why. Don’t. Things. Fit.
I have tried to order binders from underworks multiple times and they never fit. I have bought like 6 underwire bras in the last few months that were all wrong. I looked at r/abrathatfits but the size they gave me seems implausible to say the least.
Things I like aren’t made to fit people my size. I am wasting money like a water mill trying to make things fit me
I hate having a body. I want to be able to manifest clothing on my body.
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55szn · 4 days
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good luck - mv1
max verstappen x fem!reader smau
summary when max and y/n adopt a black cat and everyone thinks it’s bringing him bad luck, they are determined to prove them wrong
warnings none i think
fc various girls from pinterest
notes requested!💘 loved this so muchhajska (excuse my poor editing skills on this one lol)
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INSTAGRAM
yourusername just uploaded to their story!
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[new child just dropped, everyone say hi to mocha🐾][same mocha, same @ maxverstappen1]
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 819.718 others
maxverstappen1 not having the season we expected, lots of work ahead.😑
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yourusername ❤️ liked by maxverstappen1
user male acting performance where he’s having the worst day of his life but looks so hot doing it:
user girlsnjasfkja😭
user i’m being so serious rn you HAVE to give that cat to someone else
user first dnf i laughed… second dnf i serioused
user dw i played the dutch anthem at home for you king🧡🧡
user IT’S OKAY POOKIE YOU ARE GONNA WIN ALL OTHER RACES😖😖😖
user not if he doesn’t get rid of that cat lol
maxverstappen1 just uploaded to their story!
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[😍🐈‍⬛ @ yourusername] [when the cat steals your gf😑]
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 102.189 more
yourusername certified dilf‼️
tagged maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 the last pic??
yourusername gave me dad vibes idk
user so true
user what are the odds of max getting a black cat and immediately starting to get bad results
user ikr
user just a coincidence 🤷‍♀️
user one time thing is a coincidence, two dnfs in a row and then not being able to get a single win in many races… sounds like “black cat curse” to me sorry
user get rid of the cat if you want him to win the championship i’m BEGGING🙏🏻🙏🏻😫😫
user you guys are so ridiculous
user mocha with the max plush omgggggg i might die🥹🥹🥹🥹
user idc what anyone says he is gonna win the championship again and mocha will be forgiven you read it here first
user cat crazy lady + cat crazy dude = perfect match💘
FEW MONTHS LATER
TWITTER
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yourusername just uploaded to their story!
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[4x world champion🥹🧡 i love you so much @ maxverstappen1] [beyond proud🦁🫶🏻]
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 201.179 others
yourusername black cat bring good luck 😺 not bad luck 😾 so so proud of you maxie🧡
tagged maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 my girls🫶🏻🥰
maxverstappen1 love you❤️
yourusername love you more dilf💘
user just unserious as fuck😭😭
user max calling the cat and yn “his girls” like mocha is his daughter or smth😭
user she is his daughter wdym
redbullracing what an adorable lucky charm😺🍀
yourusername you know it🫡
user queen 🙏🏻
user I KNOW WHO MY GOAT IS🐐🐐 (mocha)
user mocha redemption arc ohhh i’ve been waiting for this one
user FR I ALWAYS BELIEVED IN YOU MOCHA😫
user THEY GOT MOCHA A PADDOCK PASS IM CRYINGGG
user always blessing us with the best max pictures thank u mother🥹
user please god i also want to raise a black kitty with my incredibly hot bf😔😔
user oh to be mocha…
user you don’t understand this lil family is EVERYTHING to me☹️☹️
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luvyeni · 9 months
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PlEASE TELL ME YOU TAKE REQUESTSSSSS
If you do can you do one where fem reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and felix zips in to save the day and comforts her but it escalates and next thing you know he's giving her backshots while taking a video to send to her ex boyfriend😃
❛GETTING OVER HIM❜ ( l. felix )
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p. bestfriend!felix x fem!reader w. 1.3k
warnings? smut , lil angst , doggystyle , unprotected sex , dirty talk
— 𖦹 ( felix helping you get over your cheating ex ) !
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felix was pissed , your body shaking as you sobbed in his arms. you had come running to his apartment , tears running down your face as you told him the story of how your ex had cheated on you with one of the friends he told you not to worry about.
"he's such a fucking asshole." he rubbed your shoulders. "you don't deserves this , and he doesn't deserve you." he massaged your scalp , as your head laid in his lap. "it's okay , i got you bubs ." the name he used since you became friends.
"what did i do wrong?" you sniffled. "everything he wanted , i gave to him , how could he do this?" without thinking — he grabbed your jaw , forcing you to look up at him from his lap. "listen to me , you did nothing wrong , he was the one who cheating , he ruined your relationship , so don't blame yourself , he's in the wrong here."
felix couldn't help it — he knew shouldn't have done it , you were his bestfriend and you were currently a mess because of this break-up , but he liked you first and you looked so pretty , your shiny eyes , looking up at him , and he just couldn't stop himself from bringing his lips to yours , your lips soft against his.
he pulled away , guilt immediately filling his gut. "i-i'm so sorry , i should've done that , im so stupid." he rambled , but that stopped when you reached up , your hands tracing his jaw. "it's okay , i liked it." he decided it was now or never , his hand soften against your cheek as he pulled you into another passionate kiss.
things started to heat up quick , his hand began to wonder , groping your breast , you moaned into the kiss , he took this as a sign to lay you down on your back , hovering over yours. "you're so pretty." he whispered against skin , leaving little red marks against your skin. "so fucking pretty." he stripped you of your bottoms , leaving you in your white panties.
"can i taste you , please that's all i ever wanted to do." he voice dripping with lust. afraid of the noise that might come from your mouth , you nodded. he got rid of your panties , your cunt glistening with your arousal. "such a pretty cunt."
he came face to face with your cunt , "fe-felix please." you whimpered , squirming against the bed. "please make me forget." this was about you , he wanted to show you want that dickhead of a ex didn't. "don't worry , i'll make you forget all about him bubs."
he licked a stripe up your cunt , your moans going straight to his cock. "mmh , fuck bubs , you taste just as good as i thought." he would've never admitted that he often thought about what your cunt would taste like , but he had a newfound confidence that he didn't have before , and it was taking over.
he dove right into your cunt , slurping and making out with your sweetness like a starved man , you gripped his hair , your back arching off the bed. "fu-fuck felix , feels so good." he moaned against your cunt , your taste was so addicting he didn't even want to go up for air , he could die a happy man if it meant he could spend his last breath tasting your sweet cunt.
"li-lixie." you whimpered , looking down making eye contact with him. "lixie , im gonna cum." his nose brushed ever so slightly against your clit , but it was enough to send you into earth shattering orgasm , cumming all over his tongue. "hnngh , lix!"
he pulled away , his blonde hair all messy , lips swollen and wet , his eyes black with lust and his chest heaving. "fuck bubs , you taste so fucking good , after im done fucking you , im gonna need another taste of that sweet cunt." you moaned at his word alone.
he turned you on your stomach , lifting your hips up. "gonna take you like this." he freed his cock from his slacks , stroking his hard cock. "show you that im so much better than him." his pushed his finger into your fluttering hole. "fuck please lix , please fuck me."
he pulled his finger out , replacing it with his cock , you moan against the bed as he sunk his cock into your sopping hole. "fu-fucking tight pussy , did he even fuck you probably , your hole is choking my dick right now." he grunted , finally bottoming out.
"fuck , fuck if i move im gonna cum." his hips were pressed against yours , he kissed your shoulders. "so-so full." you both moaned , he pulled out , pushing himself in and out of you , slowly. "yeah , you feeling full bubs? mmh , fuck i bet you he never fucked you like this." he began to speed up his thrust. "fuck , felix more."
"more?" he grunted , thrusting as deep as he could , you let out a pornographic scream. "so big!" he smirked. "yeah , you like the way my cock is stretching your pussy out -fuck- so much better than that dickhead , i bet you he probably could even make you cum." he was fucking you as if he had something to prove.
out the corner of his eye he saw your phone , an idea striking him. "bubs , you really want to make him feel like shit , give him a good reason to miss you?" he picked it up. "wh-what are you going doing?" he didn't slow down his thrust , unlocking your phone , going straight to your camera.
"ar-are y-you filming?" he pressed record , turning the camera to you. "yeah , gonna send him a little goodbye present." he said pressing down on your back , making it arch more. "sh-shit , go-goodbye present?" he hummed. "show him what he's gonna be missing now that this pretty pussy is mines."
he held the phone in his hand , using the other to squeeze the flesh of your ass. "fu-fuck felix!" he held the ends of your shirt , using it to fuck you. "gonna imprint my cock inside you , you're only gonna be able to cum on my cock for now on." he maoned. "fu-fuck , gonna fuck you better than he ever did."
he began to thrust into at a inhumane pace , the camera definitely picking up on all your screams , your cunt squeezing around his cock , he hissed. "fuck bubs , you keep clenching around my dick like that and im gonna cum inside your pussy."
his cock was slamming against your g-spot , your second orgasm approaching quickly. "lix , lix m'gonna cum." you moaned , before you or he could react , your orgasm hit you like a ton a bricks , your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came. "fuck!"
"that's it." he fucked you harder , camera shaky. "cream my cock -ngh fuck- gonna cum , where do you want it? want me to cum inside you , fill you up to the brim?" you nodded , knowing your now ex would be jealous , you never let him cum inside you.
"fuck please cum inside me." he thrusted a few more times inside you , moaning as his cum filled your insides , he pulled out , finishing off on your back. "shit."
he stopped the video , throwing your phone to the side , so that he could tend to your needs. "you okay bubs?" his voice soft again , you hum softly. "just tired." your body was flat against the bed , exhaustion in your voice. "okay , let's get you ready so you can sleep."
he helped you into the bath , washing your body with his soap , helping you out of the shower , drying your body off while whispering sweet nothings into your ear , putting your panties back on , sliding on one of his shirts.
he fixed the beds , replacing the sheets , helping you into bed , snuggling up next to your sleeping figure. he finally picked up your phone , finding the video and your ex's number. "lix?" your eyes opened. "what are you doing?" he smiled , hitting send. "nothing pretty."
"now let's go to bed , i don't need you falling asleep on our date tomorrow."
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©️LUVYENI
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vampire-squids · 1 year
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i want to bash my head open
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waynes-multiverse · 6 days
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Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY
Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH
A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)
Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles
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Cruel Summer
“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”
As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.
But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.
“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.
Painfully hard.
“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.
“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.
“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”
Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.
Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.
I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.
Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.
Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.
Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.
On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.
A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.
But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.
Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.
Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.
“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.
What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.
A hunter gathering panties.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.
You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”
It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.
“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.
The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.
Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:
I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.
You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.
So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.
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Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.
Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.
It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.
With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.
As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.
Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.
So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…
“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.
“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”
You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.
“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”
Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”
You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”
“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.
“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.
“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”
“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”
“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”
“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.
Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”
But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.
“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”
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Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.
The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.
If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.
As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.
With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.
His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.
As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.
God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.
“Dean?!”
The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.
“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.
“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.
Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”
“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”
“Right, uhm…”
“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.
You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.
“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.
Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”
As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”
“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”
“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”
That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.
“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.
Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.
And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.
Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.
“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”
“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.
“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.
Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.
With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.
“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”
You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.
“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.
He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”
“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”
As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”
The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”
You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”
“Well, uhm…”
Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.
“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”
“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.
“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.
“You can do that,” you said with a smile.
“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”
You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”
Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.
“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.
You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”
“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.
“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”
“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.
He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.
You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.
“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”
Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”
Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.
With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.
“Hop on, sweetheart.”
And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.
Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.
The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).
And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.
As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.
With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.
His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.
Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.
You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.
As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.
“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.
Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”
Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?
But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”
You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.
“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.
You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”
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Was it worth the words? 😝
For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥
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phyrestartr · 16 days
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Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader
Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k
[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]
@better-imagination-9 I summon thee
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Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 
He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 
“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 
“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”
Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”
“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 
Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 
“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 
“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 
Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 
You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 
“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 
“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 
“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 
Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”
He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.
The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.
The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 
Ding. 
He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 
“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 
You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 
“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 
“Probably not.” 
“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 
“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 
“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 
“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”
He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 
But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 
Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 
Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 
“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.
He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.
You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 
“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 
“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 
“I'm sleeping.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Sukuna.”
“I said–” 
“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 
“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 
“Don't blame this on me.” 
“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 
You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 
“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 
“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 
“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 
“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”
“About what?”
“About whatever.” 
“Fine.”
“Alright. Okay.” 
Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–
“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 
You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 
Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 
You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 
“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 
“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–
Whack. 
He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.
“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 
But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.
Thwack. 
You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.
Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 
It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 
Boy or girl?
Maybe the world did you a favour.
Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.
He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 
Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 
“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 
The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 
“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 
You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 
Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 
All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his– 
“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 
“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 
“Yes.” 
Oh. Sukuna liked that.
“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 
Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 
“Found it, huh?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 
“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 
“Where'd you find it?” 
“My pocket.” 
“No shit.” 
“Yeah. Weird.” 
The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 
“Have a drink with me.”
Your expression soured. 
Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 
Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 
Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 
“With a bit of Baileys.”
“No Baileys.”
He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 
You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.
“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.
You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 
And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 
You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 
“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 
“Raincheck,” you murmured. 
He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 
The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”
Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 
You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”
“No.” 
“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.
Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”
You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.
“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”
“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 
Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–
His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 
For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 
“Come sit.” 
Sukuna complied. 
You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 
“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”
Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 
You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 
Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.
Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.
“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 
“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.
You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”
“Says who?”
“Science. Doctors.”
“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”
You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 
“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 
Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 
For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 
Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.
Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 
Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 
Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 
Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 
He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–
I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?
He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 
I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 
“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 
Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?
Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.
A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 
Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.
“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?
You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 
“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”
“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 
“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 
Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”
“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 
“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”
“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”
“Tch.”
“Awe, big alpha's mad.”
“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 
You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 
“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 
“Tch.” You've said that before. 
“I mean it.” 
“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.
You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 
You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 
“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”
“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 
“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 
You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.
Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.
And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 
What a divine gift.
He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 
Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 
“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 
The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 
Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 
I do. 
Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 
You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 
Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 
You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 
“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 
Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 
Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 
Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 
“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”
Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–
“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.
-- DRABBLES --
“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 
“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”
“Husband, jackass.” 
Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 
Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.
“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 
“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 
“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”
“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”
Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”
“You got shot.”
“Been shot before.”
“Jumped out of a car.”
“I've jumped outta faster.”
“Then got hit by another car.”
“That was a first.”
You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 
“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 
He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 
“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”
Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 
But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 
“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 
“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.
“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”
And for once, you didn’t argue. 
“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 
You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.
Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 
“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 
“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 
You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 
Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 
“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 
“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 
Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”
You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”
Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”
“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 
“Sukuna,” you warned again.
“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 
Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 
Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 
You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–
“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 
The boys froze and stared at you.
“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 
“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 
“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–
Thump. Thump.
“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 
“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”
Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 
You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.
“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 
“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.
“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 
“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 
“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”
“WH–HEY!!”
“Sukuna.”
“Heh.”
“What about gramps, then?” 
Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 
“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”
“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”
Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”
“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 
“That's generous.” 
“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 
Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 
“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 
“Oi, runt–”
But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 
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Just Friends II | Han Jisung
Synopsis: The party may be over but for you and Jisung the fun isn't. In the dark confines of his room the real party starts.
Pairings: au Han Jisung x Female Reader
Content Warning: Heavy smut, Oral (F Receiving), Unprotected Sex, Fluff Ending.
Author's Note: This is a continuation of Just Friends. A part two was asked for so here it is. I hope this does part one justice. I tried lol. Please read part one before continuing so that you get more context.
Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌
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The house is dark and quiet when you and Jisung stumble through the front door. Not just because of the party still coursing through your body but more so because you can't keep your hands to yourself now that you've gotten a taste of him. He seems to be just as desperate for your mouth as you are for his.
His hands, fuck. His strong hands are everywhere. Gripping your ass, sliding up and under your shirt to get rid of the damned thing that keeps him from seeing your body. The only time he pulls away from your lips is to lift your shirt over your head. Once the two of you are in his room he tosses it somewhere, where it landed, you couldn't care. You pull his face back down to yours, kissing him like you'd die if you didn't. He moans on your lips when your needy hands find their way into his hair and pulls on the soft strands. All the while his fingers make quick work at popping the clasps on your red lace bra and freeing your heavy breasts. When Jisung pulls away from you it's a miracle that you even let him.
“I wanna see you, y/n. I wanna see all of you. I need to.” He tells you. His voice is soft but there's a hint of something more to it. Something so dominating that you have to force yourself to not throw yourself on him.
Stepping back at arms length from you he admires your breast and he practically drools over how big they are. Bigger than he could've imagined seeing them free from their confines. God the amount of times he pumped himself into his fist at night in this very room to the thought of leaving hickies all over your tits.
“Damn I'd let you suffocate me with those babies.” He says and you let out a surprised laugh.
Yup he's still your goofy best friend. Still you're relieved at how nothing has changed between the pair of you. That was your main worry about acting on your feelings. All your worries now however are out the window. Right now you wished he'd just fucking touch you again. You're dying to see what he tastes like, dying to see if you can make him come undone with just your tongue. That would have to wait as Jisung seems to have other things on his mind.
Without warning, he’s leading you backwards until the edge of the bed is at the back of your knees and with a cocky smirk he pushes you backwards onto your ass. You let out a soft oof and he hovers over you chuckling. The way your tits jiggle is a beautiful sight to him and he can't wait to watch them bounce while you ride him into the mattress.
As if you can read his mind, you lick your lips and with your index finger you beckon him but he isn't about to let you have control, not just yet. He's a hungry man going through the midnight munchies and he's got his mind set on something sweet. The only thing that will satisfy his craving is the sweet nectar of your cunt. Jisung gets down between your legs and rips your jeans down off, flinging them into the darkness of his room.
The only light comes from the glow of the full moon through the crack of his black curtains. He unwraps you like a greedy kid unwrapping his first candy bar after a night of trick or treating. You're naked in his bed now and he's looking up at you with such an intense stare. Wide brown boba eyes look at you, his face getting closer and closer to your sore and sensitive sex, thanks to the pounding he gave you fifteen minutes ago. When he's within an inch of your pussy he can still see remnants of his cum inside of you but it doesn't stop him.
“Let me taste you y/n. God I just wanna drink you, devour this pussy until your legs are shaking and you're screaming my name.”
He doesn't wait for your response. Whatever he's seen on your face is all the answer he needs. His tongue is lapping you up and he's teasing you with his thumb in a soft circular motion. The movement reminds you of the days that you and he would be stuck in here playing video games. You'd almost always lose or die, getting so distracted by his hands. The veins and the way he'd flick his thumb over the joystick almost exactly like he's doing to your clit right now.
He's so good at it too that after a minute your head is dropping back onto the mattress and your lids go heavy. Jisungs arms wraps around your thighs lifting them up to rest on his shoulders as he fucks you with his tongue. Pushing it in and out of you, licking you and down like ice cream on a cone. He tears himself away from your heat but his thumb keeps the same rhythm alternating between pressure and no pressure.
“Mmm baby, this pussy tastes so good. Y/n I want you to cum on my tongue. Can you do that for me beautiful?”
“F- fuck Ji. If you keep doing what you're doing, then I'm going to cum right now.” You moan arching your back.
You hear him chuckle and his face disappears once again, diving his tongue past your folds and consumes you. He doesn't stop, not even as your legs are shaking around him and the growls leaving him vibrates through you, only to bring you to your climax sooner rather than later. Your moans get caught in your throat leaving you a panting and crying mess on his bed. As much as he wanted you to ride him, he knows there'll be other opportunities, right now his cock is aching for you. Besides he can watch your tits bounce while he fucks the shit out of you. Your cries almost made him cum right along with you right there on his bedroom floor.
Crawling up onto the bed with you and keeping your legs right where they are, he slips his cock inside you while your body is still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“Ah, Jisung.” You whine and gasp underneath him, the pressure feels so intense. He feels deeper this way and you feel fuller.
He takes the hem of his shirt in between his teeth and mumbles curses in both Korean and English biting down on the material hard. Just looking at you, so dazed and so thoroughly fucked is like one of his fantasies come to life. He just wants to cum inside you over and over all night. Eventually though, you'll leave his bed and if you two fuck again after tonight, when all logical thinking returns, he won't get to feel you how soft your walls are when they squeeze his cock again. It's why he's trying so damn hard to not cum right now.
He slows down, taking your legs and wraps them around his waist. Leaning down into you he takes one of your aching hard nipples in his mouth sucking and biting down gently and slowly fucks you. Pulling all the way out of you leaving just the tip in, he fucks you like that. Slow and never going more than an inch inside of your cunt while he edges the both of you. When he finally gives you every inch of him again, it's so sudden that you moan louder than you intended. You've tried to be quiet only so that Jisung's nosey neighbors don't over hear you two but fuck… He feels so incredible inside of you.
“Ji… oh God! I'm going to cum, babe. Faster please. Fuck me faster.” You beg.
He can't say no to you, not his sexy girl. He was dying for you to cum again so he could fill your pussy anyway. Resting one hand on the wall and the other beside your head he steadies himself and moves as fast as he can. His thrusts are frenzied, erratic, even a little crazed but he pounds the head of his cock into the sweet spot that has you seeing stars and leaving scratches all down his chest calling his name out over and over.
“Yeah that's my baby. Fuck, I love the way your pussy feels when you cum around me y/n. Ah, gonna fill you up y/n. Fuuuuck!”
His final thrust is so hard, you’re certain he bruised your cervix. It hurts so good and you can feel it when he shoots his seed inside of you. You watch his face as he shoots ropes after ropes of cum inside your throbbing cunt as it contracts around him. This beautiful pained expression on his face as he bites down on his bottom lip. His brows furrowed and his small perfect pink lips part letting his moans and huffs out. As his breathing slows you reach a hand up, brushing his dark hair away from his sweaty forehead. Opening his eyes he smiles shyly, pecking you on the lips, still buried inside of you.
He doesn't want to move, he can't, not until he has to, he wants you again and again. He wants to take his time with you. But time isn't on either side of yours tonight. His parents would be home soon and you needed to be out of there before you two get caught, quite literally with your pants down. Slow kisses however, only stirs up things and Jisung is moving again.
He takes his time like he wanted, fucking you slowly, a lazy pace almost as if he’s making love to you. Your bodies are pressed so close together but it's not enough for him. Jisung wraps you up into his arms, holding you closer, hugging you tighter, moving in and out. Pushing inside of your sloping wet cunt as far as he can. His cum, still warm inside of you, only makes things more slippery, easier to move inside of you with barely any effort.
You feel your third orgasm building up inside of you. Starting from your legs, moving up and up until you come crashing down. Your moans are lost in his kisses this time and when he cums his entire body shakes. Sex with Jisung this way, you feel pleasure all over. He sighs looking down at you and for a second he just holds your stare. Very quietly he whispers, “I love you y/n. Always have since you kicked my ass in dodgeball in middle school.”
When you giggle he groans, feeling your body shake while he's still inside you. His cock is far too sensitive to pull out just yet.
“I love you too Jisung.” You whisper, “Now pull out so we can change your sheets before your parents get home. We've made a mess.”
He chuckles doing what you asked but he doesn't let you go far. He hasn't let you go far since and now as his wife, there's no way in hell that he will ever let you go.
The End♡
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thefantasyden · 2 months
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Stray Kids as Doms + their favourite Sub types with bonus fake texts (Maknae Line)
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Raunchy and a tiny bit soft if you squint? I CAN'T ESCAPE MY DOG BOY SEUNGMIN AGENDA SO WE GET ALPHA PUPPY PLAY. I'll die on this hill. Pervert!Jeongin if you squint ;)
Jisung: Breeder/Bratty Dom+ Fucktoy
Oh my sweet sweet boy. I won't call him a bull because, y'know, you're his partner, but Breeder is truly the closest fit I can think of! Jisung is just obsessed with filling you. You always have to dedicate hours to being fucked by him because he just keeps going and going. Maybe he could be considered a Service Dom, because he just wants to make you cum at the end of the day. I think Sung loves himself a good free use fucktoy though. He would love having free access to his favourite toy, and he would constantly be shoving his face between your legs to eat you out. He's not great at giving firm directions either so I could see him as Bratty Dom. You know, the kind that likes to mock you and whine at you, but you still know they're telling, not asking. Jisung also loves a Cuddle Slut, because he's clingy and he wants you to be all over him all the time. It makes him feel loved and appreciated and also is another opportunity to have you pressed against him while he fucks you. Everything he does is about being as close as humanly possible and feeling as good as humanly possible and he thrives with you because you know exactly how to match his energy and help him clear his otherwise chaotic and busy mind which is all he could ever ask for. Maybe that's why he's so eager to please you. You calm the spinning thoughts that he can't figure out, and in return, he needs to rid you of all capability for thought.
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Felix: Pleasure Dom + Pixie Pet
Felix is here to please whether he's the Dom or the Sub, and he likes everything to feel sensual and intentional, so he's huge into sensation and teasing. I think Felix would coin the term 'Pixie Pet' for his sub, because you're mischievous and always causing (playful) trouble but you also love to curl up with him and beg for his attention. You also look really pretty on a leash! He's not a Brat Tamer, so don't get it twisted, he just loves a certain type of playful, cheeky behaviour, and his Pet has that mastered. He loves that all he has to do is say your name for you to know you need to calm down, and he always rewards you for even the tiniest act of obedience. Felix loves playing with your pussy over your underwear and he always encourages you to be louder because it validates him as a capable top. Honestly, he probably spends so much time just toying with you, making you sit still while he pinches and tugs at your nipples and lightly choking you at random times just to hear you gasp in pleasure. It's all about your reaction for him and he can never get enough. The teasing doesn't stop when he's deep inside you either, and he finds it very entertaining to stop in the middle of it and just grind hus hips against yours to see just how desperate he can make you before he starts pounding into you again.
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Seungmin: Alpha Puppy + Chew Toy
Puppy loves puppies, and he'd think that should be self explanatory. I think as a Dom, Seungmin is still kind of puppy coded, and it works great because he uses what drives him crazy against his own pet. I definitely see Minnie being a Degrader, but the praise kind. He'd love to call you his pathetic puppy slut and make fun of you for being turned on by the things he does. Mean Dom Minnie agenda! He's mean in a condescending way, so it's lots of cooing and asking how you could possibly be this needy just from him choking you a little. He loves an obedient Puppy and the needier, the better. He wants to feel powerful, like you need him to think for you. At heart, he just wants you to feel as amazingly floaty as he does when you Dom him, but he also has a soft spot for the way you whine for him when he tells you to beg. Not to be on the nose here but I think Seungmin would have a big thing for calling his Puppy his Bitch because maybe he secretly has a slight breeding kink, but you don't need him to tell you that. He also loves that you let him bite you all over and mark you as his because he's a possessive dog. 100% would buy you a pretty leather collar with an engraved name plate that says 'chew toy' on it!! He probably has a matching one that says 'biter'.
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Jeongin: Perverted Corruptor + Pliant Doll
C O R R U P T O R. I know we usually see this the other way around for Innie, but just consider: Fashion lover Jeongin who takes you shopping and dresses you up all pretty, then coaxes you into doing all kinds of dirty depraved things! He's constantly finding new things he wants to try and he knows you're always willing to let him try them with you, his sweet little Doll. He likes to have you all melty and dumb for him. His favourite is to ask if you want to be good for him and make him feel good and watching how your eyes get wide as you nod enthusiastically. I could see him being a little primal sometimes in the sense that he loves shoving your face into the nattress when he's fucking you doggy style. Also LOVES pinning you with his hand between your shoulders. His precious toy would have been the one to introduce him to the bdsm world, and he ran with it. He always does his research before trying anything new because he knows he can get carried away when he's drowning in pleasure and adrenaline. He's just addicted to the feeling of having his partner so pliant and eager to please him.
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mit0bee · 10 months
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Twisted Wonderland boys with an S/O who's afraid of bugs (me too)
Did I literally just post 5 minutes ago? yes. am i posting again? yes. Stuff you should read: Bulleted HC's because i dont feel like writing an essay like i did with floyds tent hc, no beta we die like men, mention of multiple types of bugs Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Malleus Draconia, Trey Clover, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Epel Felmier, Sebek Zigvolt, Floyd Leech
(can be read as platonic but i did write it with a romantic relationship in mind)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
Leona literally came running into the room thinking you had died or smthn, but no. you were screaming, standing on his bed....all over a small cockroach.
Bro actually sighed. like, a super big sigh, one that youd only get from a dissapointed mother while he stomped on the bug.
"Seriously, Herbivore? You took care of multiple overblots, but a single cockroach gets you all worked up?"
hes grinning so hard. youd want to punch him with how hard hes grinning.
all hes thinking is about the amount he can tease you about this
but, yes. he does get rid of the bug.
unless he was sleeping. then he forces asks ruggie to do it nicely.
MALLEUS DRACONIA
implodes the bug.
im not kidding.
he literally goes full on oceangate on that bug and implodes it
you didnt even have time to properly freak out before the bug was wiped off the face of the earth
"tsunotarou what was that sound?"
"nothing light of my life" *hiding bug corpse*
"are you sure bc i thought i saw a bug"
"nope. no bugs here? should we buy some bug repellant to ease your mind?"
".....no its okay."
you knew he somehow killed the bug.
and it only made you love him even more than you already do.
TREY CLOVER
catches the bug for you and lets it outside.
unlike the first two, he tries his best not to kill the bug.
he pulls the "how would you feel if i stomp on you and kill you?"
"if you killed me while i was a bug i'd thank you"
"you'd be dead, [name]."
"....id thank you from the grave."
he just sighs and shakes his head
probably convinces riddle to let him put anti-bug measures around heartslaybul for you (it didnt take much convincing riddle hates bugs too)
JAMIL VIPER
screams with you
probably set ramshackle on fire more than once while visiting you
you both have to call kalim or adeuce to come exterminate the single cockroach on the ground
again, that one tik tok sound where its like
"YOU KILL THE BUG, YOURE THE MAN!"
"SINCE WHEN."
thats a daily interaction between the two of you
if it happened at scarabia, he'd stay at ramshackle for the next month
literally would abandon kalim (or if he really cant be trusted he'd just bring kalim with him to make sure he didn't cause any problems)
VIL SCHOENHIET
screams with you x2
isn't as dramatic as jamil, but he definitely freaks out about it too.
about the bugs? no. about the bug bites.
again, youd have to call someone to save the both of you so you dont pass tf out and die while he gets eaten alive by a fruit fly
wym fruit flies dont bite? you cant be too cautious.
somehow always has bug repellant with him in the warm seasons
hes prepared and will NOT get any bug bites
EPEL FELMIER
zero reaction, or has a positive one.
"what in tarnation do you mean you hate bugs?! they help with fertilizer blah blah blah blah blah blah (i dont know farming stuff)!"
you have to CONVINCE him to get rid of the bugs, but he'll eventually cave and do it just for you
if you ask him to put up anti-insect measures he'd look at you like youre crazy
"[name]. bugs are actually really good for our ecosystem. back at home we always had to take care of the bugs, or else our crops would die."
"shut up. please. ily, but i cant deal with these bugs."
"okay okay okay fine"
will reluctantly set them up
overall a 4/10 for bug measures he will do it just not unless you beg
SEBEK ZIGVOLT
yells.
not in fear, but in anger because how DARE such a miniscule thing try to terrify the people he cares about?!
doesnt explode it like malleus
but strikes it with lightning.
yk his dorm card groovy? thats what hes doing to a little centipede.
expects you to praise him for protecting you
sure, its a given that he would, but he would very much so appreciate your thanks, and maybe a head pat or smthn
give him one.
now.
FLOYD LEECH
like trey, he lets the bug free
sometimes.
other times he kills it and chases you with the corpse
or keeps it alive and chases you with the living bug
if you REALLYYYYYYYYYY dont like bugs, like straight up sobbing, freaking out, then he wont but otherwise? have fun bro
someone has to seperate you two when you see a bug, because he will do something
sometimes if he's feeling generous he wont do anything and you'll be like "tf? what did you do to be so nice?"
"cant i just be generous towards my shrimpy?"
"no."
".....yeah i almost grilled grim thinking he was food."
"you WHAT."
all of this because of a simple bug
oh to be young and in love ----------------------- m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!
2K notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 8 months
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Timid magical folk killer darling + Yan magical folk harem. Here me out-
After their flock had been slayed countless times by the enemy, the elders of the so called evils the magical folk face ban together to make the perfect weapon - a magic user of their own. To fully sell the product, Reader has a human form and lives life as your average stressed out college student.... with a deep hatred/fear of the humanity around them. They eventually learn to love the world they were thrust into and their peers, but they must stick to their mission.
Those who've been in this group catch on sooner than the rookies that there's something a little off with them, but they can never bring themselves to behead reader like they do all the other minions. Reader cries like a baby whenever ant of them gets hurt, and lights up like a light when they're given foods to try. They all swear to just use them as a counter weapon someday - yet there have been days they've catch each other in the act of bringing new snacks and drinks to reader's dorm.
Even reader's creators fall for their sweet nature and can't help but fawn over them
-
Magical Killer Reader: Humanity is a disease!.... 👉👈least that what my creators say... I'm sorry for what I said, but could you please just - die for me? I'm sure I can convince my creators to let me throw you a nice funeral..
Rival Team: You can't seriously want to let that thing live...
Yan Magical Person: Well someone's jealous they won't be getting a fancy coffin and cried over at their funeral - if they even get one
-
Yan Overlord: Y/n, weekly report?
Magical Killer Reader, wearing a Gir hoodie: I watched a show about a strange greenish creature trying to take over the world for his much taller leaders. He's a lot like me now that i think about it, but I like his little metal companion more. Can I have a waffle maker?
Yan Overlord: If it will aid in your conquest, you may have anything.
Minion: how does singing them good night help them get rid of humans?
Yan Overlord: Question my rule again, and you will sing until your throat bleds - maggot
1K notes · View notes
rippersz · 7 months
Text
𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰
✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩
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✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩
A Larissa Weems x F!Reader four-part mini-fic. Read the first and second parts here: Heat, Heat II; (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Mommy Kink, G!P, All That Jazz)
✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩
“Well… it’s um- hot. Of course.” You started, choosing to look down at your knees in embarrassment. “Like my skin is always… sticky. Sweaty. That’s why my shower is literally constantly drying,” your arm gestured vaguely to the open bathroom door. “It helps but not for long because… b-because… um…” god it was so humiliating, “because I just get like all- I get all-” your hands pinwheeled, catching at the air like moving tires as you sifted through your vocabulary for the perfect word, “I- I get all!- you know-”
“Needy.”
You startled, looking up with wide eyes.
Larissa’s gaze was unexpectedly intense. Dark. Staring into your soul with a depth and weight you couldn’t decipher. The sight of it had you freezing in your spot, blushing as she stared at you unblinkingly. There were cogs turning in the older woman’s head. You wondered about her thoughts before you nodded, feeling the embarrassed heat of your cheeks start to turn into a blaze. Needy… she had called you needy. She looked you in the eye and called you needy. The feeling of the duvet curling around your fingers, pushing into your sweating palms, had you pulling your mind out of the gutter with gusto. The object of your affections (and daydreams) was right in front of you. Fantasizing was off the table. Many things were off the table. Including yourself… which could be on the table if there were a table nearby and Larissa had the nerve to bend you over i-
“Apologies, it was- just the first word that came to mind. Please, continue,” she said suddenly, looking sheepish about her outburst.
You observed her for a moment longer, noting the straight posture and the fidgeting hands and the dark blush on porcelain cheeks. She just wanted to help, you reminded yourself. She just… wanted… to help. So you looked away, unclenched your hands from your duvet, and nodded.
“Right- yeah- that. I get um… that- easily. And it’s- it’s really hard. It gets to a point where it hurts. A lot. And then at that point it’s just- all sense is… gone. Disappeared. I sort of fall into this- this haze… where I feel the um- the need to like get rid of the- the feelings really badly. The… desire.”
Oh. Oh it was… it felt like heaven to finally get it all off of your chest. Like the weight of your situation, the strength of the lust that overtook you, shameful and devious in its nature, was lugged off of your shoulders and thrown onto your bedroom floor. You’d been hiding it for nearly four weeks, knowing it would only get worse. The desire would overtake you at some point, you were certain. And then- well then you weren’t sure what you’d do. Die, maybe? Or pass out? Goodness, how terrible would that be? If you fainted and couldn’t wake up without the assistance of another? Surely, someone would find you eventually, no? Larissa would make sure of it - even if she had to show up herself. Maybe. Probably. The very thought of that had you letting out a sigh; one of mixed relief and exhaustion.
“So,” your boss started gently as she rounded the bed and headed toward the windows. Her pace was slow. “You… get flare-ups, so to speak… and have to ‘cure’ them… by uh- well- let’s say ‘taking care of it’? Am I correct?” You were a bit confused as to why Larissa’s voice sounded so strained- and why she was facing the window and not you- but you eventually decided it was most likely a way of giving you privacy. Rather sweet of her, honestly. It made you feel better as you looked at the bedroom door and nodded.
“Yeah it gets pretty intense. Like.. umm..”
“Painful?”
You hummed out a ‘yes’, figuring that was a good word.
“Excruciating?”
You hummed again.
“Just……. agonizing?” Larissa sounded breathless.
You turned, too focused on the tall figure by the window to notice the way the straps of your nightie slipped down the curves of your shoulders. Larissa looked tense, but you could see the way her body moved with breath - as though she were breathing heavier than normal, but you couldn’t hear anything. In fact, the world was quiet. Weirdly quiet. Like the lingering notes of nothing before it exploded into everything. Or the calm before the storm, as some liked to coin it. You weren’t sure what had changed exactly, but you knew something did. The tone of Larissa’s words… her desire to help, practically shining out of her eyes… did she- no. No, there was no way. You blinked, squinting in the dim light of your bedroom as if that would help you peer into Larissa’s thoughts.
…Just what was going on in that head of hers?
Larissa Weems knew exactly what was happening.
She knew exactly what was happening and she knew exactly how to help. Or- how to aid you in what you needed.
What you craved.
Oh you poor thing… her poor thing…
Trembling with restrained lust, nearly bursting at the seams with it. Trying oh so hard to act ‘normal’; to keep up appearances and mask the desire simmering- bubbling- beneath the surface. Waiting for it to boil over. Nervous for the moment in which it would.
Larissa had clocked you even before you opened the door. Her senses were sharp. Her veins swam with blood that sang for you; that smelled your… predicament… and wanted to relieve it. Wanted to get rid of it. Wanted to satiate it.
Wanted to make it all her own. Grasp the situation with both hands. Push you down and take you until your begging ceased and fell into mindless whimpers. Until you couldn’t stand being awake anymore and fell asleep in her lap, plush thighs framing her own, warming her throbbing co-
“Are you… okay? Larissa?” Your sweet little tone rang out, hesitant and questioning. It made blue eyes turn from the window, seeking out the slightly worried expression on your pretty face.
She swallowed as discreetly as she could and worked to unclench her hands from the fists they found themselves balled into. Clearly things were affecting her far more than she realized. It wasn’t really her fault though. No, it wasn’t her fault you smelled… so… so good. Larissa took a deep breath, utilizing it as a sigh when all she wanted was to push her head into the slope of your neck and breathe you in, swallowing your scent like a woman that had gone without water for a week. And it wasn’t her fault, likewise, that you were so… lovely. So beautiful. So perfect opening the door like that, trying to hide the way you were dying inside with desire. If she were a bolder soul that lived without shame, Larissa surely would have stepped up and walked into your room, slammed the door behind her with a click of the lock, and pulled you into the most passionate kiss you’d have ever felt. Oh yes, she would have given into her own instincts and taken control with vigor. She would have slipped her fingers beneath the lacey straps of that nightgown and pulled them further down your arms - slowly, teasingly, just to fuck with you and see how desperate you’d get if she took her time. And her nails, trimmed and painted a deep red, would caress so mindlessly - up and down and around in circles that would lapse over each other so many times they would become uncountable…
But she wasn’t that bold. And she cared far too much about your feelings to act so recklessly. So instead of listening to the hum of warmth that tugged at her soul, Larissa kept her head and clasped her hands politely at her waist.
“Yes, of course. I’m merely- trying to understand,” and she smiled as gently as she could, preening secretly beneath your undivided attention.
You hummed, looking your boss up and down once more. There was something up… but it wasn’t your place to ask. If she wanted to leave, she knew very well that she could. If she was uncomfortable, she’d just have to say so and the conversation would end. So whatever was going on… it was not for you to know just yet.
“Okay.” It was a simple response but you mirrored her smile to signal that everything was alright. The topic was strange… the last thing you wanted to do was put her in an uncomfortable position.
Larissa didn’t seem to mind too much though as she stepped away from the window and turned to sit in one of the armchairs in the room’s alcove, working to make herself comfortable. You observed like a captivated audience at the opera, unable to take your eyes off of every move she made. The measured steps of her stockinged feet… the steady sway of her hips and canter of her legs and the almost lazy way her arms fell to her sides… you felt your lust rise again, laughing maniacally from somewhere inside you as it spread from the depths of your abdomen up to your heart. There was an ascending pinkness to your cheeks and heat to your body that you sincerely hoped Larissa couldn’t see.
If she did, she didn’t comment on it and instead gestured with a flippant hand wave for you to continue. Her posture was finally relaxed, you were happy to see. Reclined, one leg crossed over the other, pulling her skirt tight while she pressed her elbow to the arm of the chair and rested her cheek on the hills of her knuckles. If she stayed just like that, contoured beautifully by the dim light of the room as the sun waved her last goodbyes, you were sure even the most esteemed artists would pay good money to catch even a glimpse of the Larissa Weems. Beautiful woman and shapeshifter extraordinaire, looking natural and calm in her willingness to help. God she was stunning…
“Um- yeah I think that may really just be it. The pain gets really bad and I just kind of- need to get rid of it at that moment otherwise I… freak out? I guess? The flare-ups are the worst part though,” you frowned, knowing that the eventual next wave would be worse than the last.
Larissa replied with a hum, looking thoughtful for a moment as her eyes- blazing and dark- traced over your form. You weren’t exactly the prettiest picture, you knew. Hunched over as you were on the edge of the bed, playing with the lace hem of your nightgown and anxiously bouncing your right foot off of the floor without much thought. From her perspective, you probably looked like a strange sick mess. Out of your mind with desire - itching to get rid of the buzz your body felt 24/7.
“...Are you aware of what usually happens during heats?” She paused. “Besides the- lust, of course.”
You nodded. “Um yeah, I think so. Usually, I mean for wolves I know there’s an alpha and omega and they do that whole thing. With the mating and the nests. And then the um- like um- the- the b- b-,” ugh god how embarrassing that you couldn’t even say it- “the br- bree-”
“Breeding?”
Your hands flopped down to the bedspread, fisting into the fabric without thought as a whimper- keening and loud and pathetic- threatened to fall off of your tongue. Your throat bobbed with the willpower it took to swallow the sound.
Breeding, she had said. Breeding. Breeding, breeding, breeding… Bearing children for one’s partner… giving up the body to accept the sacred fruits… oh it- it sounded- it sounded delicious rolling past Larissa’s lips. Breeding… oh just the concept-!
‘Yes…,’ your soul called, ‘meant for it. To breed. To be bred. To take. To take and take and take and take and take. To be good. Take her seed- her children- warm her. All for her. Every part. Meant for Larissa. All Larissa’s. Larissa’s. Meant to be hers. All hers.’
You could feel yourself trembling. Keeping the noises in, locked away, and the heat down, resistant in its simmer, was becoming too much. You swallowed, only to feel that your throat was dry. You sniffed, only to find yourself sniffling instead, trying to calm the sudden pound of your heart. It was in your ears. Your neck. The aching heaven between your legs.
“Oh Y/n, I’m sorry,” you dragged your eyes up to look at Larissa. Her expression was full of remorse. “I didn’t mean to trigger anything.”
You shook your head immediately, working through the grasp of your libido as you could feel it pull at you. None of it was Larissa’s fault. She didn’t know. She didn’t have to apologize. And when you tried telling her that, allowing your quivering lips to part so you could explain, the only sound that came out, rising from the back of your throat, was a sharp whine. It sounded like an instrument note for just a second before you abruptly closed your mouth and swiftly brought your hands up to your face, shielding yourself from embarrassment. If you were in better control of yourself, you would’ve apologized immediately, but the best you could do was shake your head and try to regulate your breathing. In and out… in and out… slowly but surely…
Larissa waited with patience as you collected yourself. She was silent, observant… tense. You couldn’t see the way she leaned forward in her seat, lips parted, heart throbbing within her own chest, mind running wild with thoughts that surrounded you and only you.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of your mouth when you finally managed to come back down to Earth. It was murmured on repeat, without thought. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”
The whispers in your psyche were fading but they still threaded themselves through your body, making your blood hum with ardor, signaling that ‘the next wave’ was going to come about soon and you had limited time to prepare. Not that there was much to do from a preparation standpoint. Throwing the nightie off of your body and laying back on the bed was easy. Cracking your knuckles, taking deep breaths, and waiting was a little harder. Like the anticipation that grew within your body, waiting for the switch to click from off to on, would kill you if it didn’t happen soon enough. And maybe it would. Maybe that was something you had to ask Larissa. Yes. Definitely.
So with as much sense as you could muster, you stopped your apologetic rambling and said into your hands, “Will- will this kill me, Larissa?” You preferred not to think about the pathetic crack in your voice. “Cuz it f-fee-feels like it will….”
That was no exaggeration. It did feel terrible. It did feel fatal.
“Oh… darling, no,” came your savior’s soft voice as she stood up from her spot and crouched before you, placing one cool clammy palm on your bare knee. “You’re not going to die, Y/n… You’ll be alright.” And her coo made you shiver as her thumb, most definitely without realizing, drove you to the brink of madness with its slow circles over your sensitive skin.
It was strange, the reaction you had then. As soon as Larissa touched you, as soon as her long fingers clasped your knee gently and caressed the softness found, the whispers went away. Blinked out of existence. Threw themselves into the ether. Your heart still pumped wildly, remnants of what happened, but there was no more anxiety. No more harm. It was as though your soul had just decided to… settle. Nearly unnaturally. Nearly… impossibly. You felt the graze of your eyelashes along your fingers as you blinked and breathed into your palms. Slowly, the burn in your lungs went away. Slowly, the fierceness of your libido was tamed. Laid to an easily awoken rest.
“Y/n, darling…” Larissa’s voice made you sigh in relief. It felt like cool water being poured down the rivets of your spine. “...look at me.”
And she sounded so sweet… so careful… so aware of your predicament… that you couldn’t help but obey. Like a bitch with her master.
You moved your fingers and peered through the spaces between them, not at all surprised to see the concerned line between your boss’s eyebrows. Oh she looked so beautiful even like that… looking at you with a small pout on her face, like she really did feel bad about your situation. Though when your eyes met, the expression melted into something that nearly had you closing your fingers and covering the entirety of your face again. The corners of her lips drew up and her eyes started sparkling and the lines of her face deepened with warmth, happy to see you listening to her and being so good- being so… so….
“There we go,” Larissa cooed, “Hello~” And then she grinned, silly and amused, looking hopeful in her endeavors to calm you down just with her closeness alone.
It worked, thank goodness, and you found yourself rolling your eyes begrudgingly and smiling behind your hands. At least she didn’t think your reaction was embarrassing. At least she understood.
“Thanks,” was all you could think to say as you took your hands away from your face and sniffed. Larissa wasn’t going to judge you, you finally realized. She was just going to roll with the punches - and hopefully help. Her comfort alone was already doing a whole lot. And the nod she gave you, paired with the kind smile on her glorious face, had you relaxing even more. Just another reminder that it would be okay. Only a few more days. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.
“Are you alright now?”
“Yeah- yeah I think I’m okay. It just- blegh,” you gestured to your head and sighed.
Larissa chuckled very softly beneath her breath before she tilted her head, blue eyes shining with eternal mirth.
“Blegh?”
You nodded, confident in your words and rosy with humor. “Blegh. Yeah.”
“Well alright then…,” she supposed as she shrugged and stood up, put her hands on her hips, and bent her back to straighten it with a firm groan. “Gods, these old bones…”
That little comment had you giggling as you admired her from your place, tempted to swing your feet as you looked on with appreciation. So beautiful in her casualness… so stunning in her calm demeanor…
“Old bones?” Came your soft exclamation, “You’re not old at all! You’re just- um-...”
Larissa paused while you searched for the proper word, putting an end to her stretching so she could look at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Just…?”
A hint of challenge crawled around behind her gaze. It made your hands return to the bedspread, grasping onto the duvet for discreet support. The way she was- she was looking down at you- so tall… so strong… so aware of your little vocal slip-up. Your position wasn’t really helping either… when you removed your focus, trying to look anywhere but at her face with its shifting expression and domineering sort of arrogance, you found yourself at eye level with Larissa’s waist. And her hips. And that soft portion of stomach that one could see through a pencil skirt, with the way it pushed gently against the fabric, all womanly curves and respected existence. Protecting one of the most precious things about her… protecting the sweetness of her womb… the promise of life…
Usually, you wouldn’t focus so much on having children. But evidently, a woman’s heat had no qualms about outwardly desiring a baby. Or two. Or three. As many as it would take to have the emptiness of one's womb filled up entirely. And yours begged for it.
Oh if only… if only Larissa had a cock. The things she could do with it… the pleasure… it had you biting your lip as you stared off into space.
Then a cool hand was placed on your forehead and suddenly you were blinking, looking up at your boss with confusion.
“Um-”
“Hmm,” she cut you off, “no fever.” And then the hand was taken away.
You scoffed, swatting her out of your personal space (mainly for your sanity).
“Yeah duh- I’m not sick,” you spat playfully. “And you’re not old, your skeleton is just- I dunno- speaking to you,” you shrugged, spouting out whatever damned thing came to mind just to distract Larissa and keep her attention from getting stuck on your behavior.
And it seemed to work as she stared down at you, blinked, and then let out a confused little laugh. It was tinged with hilarity - like she was finally unwinding after a long day and could allow herself to break through whatever seams she was stuck in. Principal Weems, you noticed, had become Larissa- in every beautiful and silly way. It was heartwarming to see her place a hand on her chest as she laughed. You wished you could take it into your palms and kiss it. Over and over until she grasped your chin and shoved two fingers into your mou-
“Speaking to me! Ugh- goodness, honestly where do you come up with the things you say?” She giggled as she shook her head.
Your only reply to that was to smile a little wobbly smile, trying with all of your might not to remove your eyes from her beautiful face. One look down and you knew you’d descend into madness again. Your mind would run away from you. Your heart wouldn’t want to chase after it. And your libido would rise from its slumber, grumpy and angry and raw as it faced the tantalizing curve of Larissa’s lower belly. Just the thought of it had you sighing wistfully and looking away, pulling your attention to the windows behind you.
“It’s getting late,” was your quiet observation as you noticed how the sun was nearly gone, only leaving the very last lingerings of her golden rays.
“Ah. So it is,” Larissa agreed, her voice taking on a quiet hush as night fell like a stage’s red curtain.
And with the red curtain came the momentary silence before the audience erupted into cheers.
But there, in the dark of your Nevermore quarters, with the door locked and the rain picking up outside, you figured there would be no applause. And no cheering. And no congratulations and smiling faces afterwards. No, it would just be the quiet of your shared breathing and the steady pound of your heart that you could hear ringing in your ears. The moment felt like a strange reset. Or a lull, perhaps. Not so tense but not so relaxed. You felt your body teetering on the edge of desire. Instead of nipping at you, tugging at your heart and lungs with sharp claws, the symptoms of your heat rose like a wave. Impending. Inescapable. Just waiting to take you under and drown you. Just sitting there, on standby, smiling something evil as its dark ministrations plucked at your nerves. The muscles in your thighs twitched, wanting to move, wanting to push you into motion and make you rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Eager to quench the thirst your instincts craved. Eager to have you writhing around on the bed, grinding against anything you could find.
“Larissa,” your voice fell into a gasp, “you- you have to go. I- I- can’t do this.” It was time. It was time and she had to leave immediately before things became worse.
“Another flare-up?” She questioned gently, worry in her voice.
You nodded and turned to look at her. ‘You gotta go’ was on the tip of your tongue. ‘Unless you wanna stay for this next part you have to g…o…’ but the words died. Perished. Disintegrated as you came to find that she had gotten closer. Much closer. So close you could smell her perfume - gardenia and jasmine. It filled your lungs and made you dizzy; made you grasp onto the hem of her skirt, thumbing the fabric and tugging on it gently - like a lifeline; made you swallow and crane your head, nearly whimpering as you felt your chin graze the plushness of her abdomen. A whimper pushed at your lips, eager to fall into the silence, eager to seal your fate as you stumbled into a gaze of pure deep blazing blue. Dark with passion and desire and something else. Dark with… with… with need? You swallowed.
No. No no no. She wasn’t- she couldn’t be- she- well- you felt your heart stop. Was Larissa….?
“You’re going to be okay,” her voice interrupted, soft and kind as two palms, beautiful and desirable and heavenly, cradled your head. You felt her fingers card through your hair, tender and light.
If you were in a different situation, you were sure you would’ve sunken into the feeling and embraced Larissa’s closeness - but you were rooted in the moment and very much aware of the fact that her expression had changed. She was suddenly very serious, looking down at you with hesitation. Like a push and pull was happening inside of her. You didn’t even realize you had moved your hands from her skirt until they were framing her palms, running over her knuckles, silently telling her that she could speak. That she could be honest. That whatever was spoken about in that room would stay in that room. You were to be trusted. You were different.
And so the cord snapped - and Larissa began speaking.
“Y/n…” she started, voice shaking with breath, “…I need you to listen very closely.” You nodded, your thinking thrown to the wind; hanging onto her every word. When she paused, looked between your eyes, and saw your sincerity, she continued. “I may have an idea as to what’s causing this… but you have to stay with me while I explain. I understand it’s difficult, but you’re strong. Can you do that? For me?” And her blue eyes widened, fixing you with a stern look and a demand.
Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesyes all for you for you for you Larissa yes yes yes. You nodded again, immediately, without a second to lose, and croaked out a gravelly “Yes. Of course.”
Her explanation would be important. Her knowledge would be valuable. Even though your body was quickly warming up, becoming acquainted again with the desire to fuck, you grasped your mind and held it tight. The fingers in your hair were distracting. The closeness of her warm body was distracting. The smell of her perfume was distracting. The little relieved smile on her face was distracting.
But… if you got to see that smile again at the end of her spiel, as sweet and soothing as it was, then holding on until the last second would have been worth it. So you worked against your instincts and sat tight, giving all of your attention to Larissa.
Y/n was making it very hard for her to focus.
Very very hard.
So hard that she could barely keep herself in check.
Her pupils were blown, she knew. And her hands were shaking. And her cheeks and chest were flushed and her throat was dry and she really couldn’t help the way she ran her tongue over her lips as she looked down at the sweet thing beneath her.
You were very cute, not even realizing the extent of your own desire. How it showed on the outside. How the clench of your thighs was quick and rushed and desperate. How the bob of your throat and quiver of your lips signaled that you were holding back pretty sounds. How the tendons in your hands flexed when you twisted the duvet into your palms, poorly concealing your slipping self control. It was arousing.
And distressing.
Larissa remembered the first time she had gone through the cycle. She was capable of falling into a heat and a rut considering her genetic makeup. Born a female at birth with the ability to change that if she so wished; at a base level, that made for an interesting time with intimate partners. But on a level more carnal, more animalistic, it was something else. Something entirely different. Something… she didn’t often like to show. It wasn’t everyday that she stumbled upon people who experienced similar things anyway. Werewolves were fascinating creatures and those that could shift into animals had interesting abilities, but Larissa had yet to meet a person who satiated that side of her.
Who… gave themselves up to her. Submitted. And allowed themselves to be owned.
Others often took one look at the headmistress and saw a challenge. But you… oh you… you saw a dream. You saw all of your wishes coming true. And as Larissa watched the depraved little fantasies play out within that brilliant mind of yours, she was brought back to the painful glory of mating season. And just how delicious it was to feel the burn between her thighs and the ache within her core. And just how nice it was to relish in her own touch and embrace her own desire. And just how precious it was to drive her partners mad. Crazy. Insane with lust. Bonkers with ardor. To run them into the ground with need and push them off the precipice of the most wonderful climaxes. It was nearly addicting. It flashed through her mind during the times she wasn’t drowning in her heat. It flashed through her mind in that exact moment.
While looking down at you. While collecting her thoughts. While trying to explain.
Larissa inhaled a shuddery breath and averted her eyes from the tantalizing beautiful twinkle in your gaze. The dark ceiling, she found, was much less distracting. It gave her enough reprieve to begin speaking, allowing her fingers to play with your hair mindlessly as she picked through her words.
“Last year, over the summer, I returned to the United Kingdom to visit my brother.” Blue eyes glanced down at you before darting away again. “We stayed in Norfolk, deciding that we both needed a break from Worthing. That’s in West Sussex, it’s-”
“I know,” you interrupted softly, giving her a small smile once she looked down. You’d also gone to Norfolk over the summer. It was just for a week- a vacation of sorts- to get away from the drone of everyday living. It was crazy that you’d both gone during the same summer, but there was no way you’d been visiting at the same time. Right? You were sure you would’ve noticed her. You were sure you would’ve taken the chance to say hi.
After a delayed nod, Larissa continued. “Of course. Well, it was a nice trip for what it’s worth. It was good to see him again. But…” she swallowed, raising her eyebrows, “toward the end of my stay, something happened. Neighbors were complaining about bad water. The taste had changed, the color too. And when authorities found out what it was…” Larissa trailed off, getting lost in thought for just a moment. You watched with interest as the cogs turned in her head - and then blinked when she finally cleared her throat and continued. “..well. Turns out a werewolf died in one of the lakes. It happened near one of the smaller intake structures, the ones that take clean water and make it consumable. By the time authorities found out, it was too late.” She sighed, her chest heaving with breath.
You frowned. The water… that definitely rang a bell. It had been a strange thing at the time; the water tasted vaguely of metal and it sort of burned the back of your throat, prompting you to switch to plastic water bottles. You’d only had a few cups at most before making the change, but still. You’d still… you still had… some. Your eyebrows scrunched together in mixed confusion and surprise as you stared up at Larissa. Before she opened her mouth, you knew what she was going to say.
“I’d already had some of the water…” she paused, taking that moment to massage your head and tilt it back the slightest bit; fingers framing the space beneath your ears and the apples of your cheeks. Her expression was warm. Apologetic. “...And I know you did too.”
Larissa let out a little sigh when she saw your face fall. Part of her wanted to strengthen her hold and keep you in place when you began moving away, but she controlled herself and let you go; watching with eyes of pity as you reared away from her hands and put your feet firmly on the floor. When you got up, she took a few paces to the left and went to turn on the lamp on your bedside table - to distract herself and give you space.
“...A Himalayan salt lamp?” Larissa couldn’t help but question once she saw it, letting out a sweet little chuckle as she trailed one finger down the side of the pink-tinged crystal.
She was amused by the sight of it… and quite delighted when the beautiful golden glow lit up a small portion of the room. It was very adorable. It was very ‘you’.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” she heard you say distractedly with the slightest bit of hesitation - as if you were nervous that she was judging you. She wasn’t, of course. She’d never.
And to prove that, Larissa turned to you, a soft look in her eye as she watched you think over her words.
It was a lot to take in, but you knew it was coming. There had to be a reason for all of your strife - it couldn’t have just happened. And there it was. A bit strange but apparently true. You drank werewolf’s blood. Without realizing it. That was that. Done and done.
Well - not entirely. You had one question.
“How did you know I had it too?”
Your gazes met. Larissa’s eyebrows raised as she let out a breath.
“Well I… saw you. It was an odd coincidence, at first I thought I was hallucinating,” she let out a little amused scoff, “but no. There you were. Drinking a glass of water at an inn.” The look she gave you then was pointed- as if to say ‘My story is true and I was correct in my assumptions.’
But you knew she was right. You remembered that glass of water - and you remembered cringing at the odd taste. At the time, you finished it because you were parched, but after that you switched to the water bottles. And Larissa had seen you drinking, there at the same time, entirely unaware of the overall predicament and how it would affect you b- oh.
Oh.
Your eyes widened, body tensing with surprise once your mind caught up and everything clicked into place. Larissa’s flushed skin… her odd breathing… her dilated pupils and enraptured, concerned, knowing expression… You looked away from her so quickly you thought your head was going to snap off of your neck.
Larissa… Larissa was in heat. Or- or rut?
Oh god Larissa was in rut-!
“I was unsure of how to tell you earlier… if you are uncomfortable now, just tell me and I’ll g-”
“No. No no no no no,” you whispered, harsh and quick. “I want you, Larissa.” You were facing the wall, unable to look her in the eye as you spoke and cut her off as softly and kindly as you could. “I want- I-” your eyelids fluttered until you closed them and pressed your lips together, letting out a sigh as one of your hands went up to rest against your forehead. It was so hard to say- so hard to admit- but it was obvious what had to happen. It was obvious what you wanted to happen. “I want you… but only- only- if you want me too.” Your words hid the plea you yearned to share. Please. Please want me back. Please want me too. Please do this with me. Please be mine.
And as if stirred by your words, by your realization, your body came alive; thrumming with many strong lightning bolts of want. Of pure want and desire and ardor and admiration and lust. Your mind was running in circles, jumping from one fantasy to another.
Larissa on top of you. You on top of Larissa. Hips bucking and lips grazing and little moans- little muffled whimpers- leaving each of you and ringing like songs. Pretty beautiful songs that left your thighs shaking and fingers twitching and body humming for her. All for her. All for Larissa and her white teeth and red nails and red lips and pink cheeks and oh god- Larissa’s hands on your hips, Larissa moving your body back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, again and again and again against her. Pressing and writhing and coming undone beneath her touch. Bouncing on her lap, her soft velvety thighs; pulling her closer to your face, mouth open and wanting; seeing your legs out of the corners of your eyes as she pushed them up and back, pressed to your chest, so she could sink deeper and deeper and deeper into you-
“Y/n,” the object of your affections softly called from behind you, voice heavy with mixed concern and uncertainty.
An anxious sigh escaped your pursed lips. Of course - you shouldn’t have said anything. Of course - she didn’t want you. Of course - she thought it was odd. As your boss, god as your boss!, she definitely thought you were mad, didn’t she? Yes, terribly mad and terribly horny and just out of your goddamn mind with lust - to the point where you didn’t realize (until it was too late) that you were propositioning your own boss!
“Jesus, I’m sorry,” you began shaking your head, moving your hand down to cover your mouth with a sigh. The heat coiling within your abdomen wasn’t helping in the least; it only served to haunt you as you figured out how best to escort Larissa out of the room without jumping her bones.
She was in- in rut, for gods’ sakes! She was in rut and she was- oh just the thought- of her at night… hand between her thighs… moaning into the pillow… wrapping around her length or sinking into her heaven and thrusting, thrusting, thrusting… You swallowed hard to hold back a sudden moan and blinked rapidly, grasping onto your dwindling sanity and trying to dispel the wandering thoughts. Your heart was a rock concert in your ears. Sweat gathered along your spine.
It seemed, for once and for all, after teetering on the edge of desire for so long! - it seemed that it was finally time. So you spoke quickly and swallowed your embarrassment, shame, and lust for just a moment more. You’d deal with repercussions later - after getting Larissa the hell away from your bedroom.
“I’m sorry I even suggested that. If you don’t want this, just- just go. For your sake and mine I can’t- I can’t- be around you right now.” It was unnatural hearing yourself so panicked and serious, but it was necessary. The situation had become dire. If she thought you were rude, you’d handle that later too.
The sound of stockinged feet padding up behind you had you tensing. Your body felt stiff already. Tired. Hungry. Like you’d spent your entire life in heat and this quick reprieve left you sore and exhausted. The feeling would be gone in a few moments you knew. Soon enough, the pleasurable warmth in your womb, kind and gentle at that moment, would blow up and start screaming and scratching at you - and then you’d have no choice but to turn around and shove Larissa out of the room. But even when you were about to turn, to gently take her hand and lead her away and insist that staying wasn’t worth it and that she could probably find someone else to help her through her rut - someone better, more equipped - you were stopped. By hands. Two elegant feminine hands that gripped your biceps and kept you in place, facing the wall, body rigid and breath dipping into the shallows. Her hold wasn’t tight, but it was enough. It was enough. You felt your legs quiver.
“Y/n,” she spoke slowly, her tone a deep velvety whisper, “I do want this.” Her hands squeezed gently. “But I need to know,” and she stepped forward until your back was pressed to her front, resting against her, soaking in her warmth, “that you’re not just saying it.”
“I’m n-”
“Shush.”
You shushed.
“I know. I know you think you want this, but Y/n heats are… intense, for lack of a better word. They make you say yes to things you may not usually agree to. They make you-” Larissa inhaled sharply before she let out a bone-shaking sigh. The clammy press of her forehead against the top of your head had you blushing. “-they make you regret. And I don’t want you regretting something… I know I will cherish,” she finished in a whisper.
You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until you gasped for air, chest heaving with relief. The scent of her- of your boss- elegant and mischievous and everything everything everything- blanketed your lungs like a cold woman’s duvet at night. It was intoxicating. Liberating. The scent of… of-... of your mate?
“I won’t.” You spoke suddenly- sharply- desperate to make her see that you’ve always wanted her and you were sure you always would. “Even if I wasn’t in heat, even if this- this wasn’t happening… I’d still want you Larissa. I’d still say yes, if you asked.” And though you felt the need to hang your head in some strange mix of shame and embarrassment, you didn’t want to displace her resting - so you stayed still. Eyes facing the wall, peering at the wallpaper for all it was worth, allowing yourself to revel in the closeness of her. Finally finally finally - the missing puzzle piece your body longed for. The hymn it yearned to recite and sing and cry.
“You will be the death of me,” Larissa whispered sweetly, quickly, like a prayer, before you were being turned around and pushed.
Your back hit the wall with a thud. Your gaze melted into hers. She looked between your eyes- hurried and desperate. You’d never seen Larissa so close to the edge before. Her chest was rising and falling unsteadily, shakily, and there was a wildness to her expression that felt so terribly deliciously exciting. Her lips were parted, her cheeks were very flushed, her eyelids were fluttering. The only word you could think of to describe Larissa, as you gazed at her and felt yourself melt, was the word need.
“I need you.” It was true. It was perhaps the most truthful thing you’d ever said in your life. You wanted her, yes - but if you had to survive the night, since you finally had her in front of you, then you needed her. Her and her warmth and touch and body and all of the pleasure she could give and give and give.
“I know,” she whispered, leaning closer, pressing your chests together, forcing your gaze up through your lashes. You could feel her through the fabric of her dress and your nightie. The hardened peaks of her nipples, the soft flesh of her body- her midsection- the tops of her thighs. Her head was bowed, her nose nearly grazing your own, her shoulders caging you in. Larissa was staring at you; dark blue depths invading your senses, asking you only one last question and insisting that you answer it. She took a shuddering breath; you watched, enraptured, as her lips moved. “Are you certain? Are you- are you absolutely certain?”
You were. Absolutely.
But you knew that if you said no, if you changed your mind and didn’t want it anymore, she would step back immediately. She would step back and she would nod and she would understand and she would politely excuse herself - hunger and desire be damned. She’d leave you be and probably never mention it again. She’d bid you goodbye with a sweet smile and leave you to your own devices. She would never hurt you. She would never cross that threshold. She would never destroy that line. If you reconsidered, Larissa would understand. No matter what.
“Yes. I’m certain.”
And that’s why you couldn’t let her go.
“I’ve never been so certain in my life.”
You craved her.
Larissa’s eyes darted down to your mouth as you spoke. Lust curled like mist within her eyes. It reached for you. Called for you. It whispered your name and beckoned you closer.
So close… until your lips were pressing against each other, into each other, heads turning and mouths melting. Drowning in bursts of warmth. Interlocking finally. Both of you groaned, filthy and deep and full of breath, chests rumbling with satisfaction as the beasts within roared excitedly. Distantly, you felt clawed hands grab at your waist, wrapping around the thick of your hips, eager to be close. Eager to hold. Eager to own. God her lips were so soft. And full. And talented. Wicked. Devilish. They parted, teased, kept you slow and eager as your hands fumbled for purchase somewhere on Larissa’s body. Eventually, they ran up to her shoulders before draping over her neck and playing with the little baby hairs at the base of her updo. It would be ruined by morning. You couldn’t wait to be the culprit.
Larissa pulled back to glance at you, admiring as though you were the stars. “Open your mouth.”
The part of you that burned for her nearly collapsed, entirely too pleased by the demand to give you any pause as your lips fell open instantly. Then you leaned back in, both of you meeting halfway, acting as one until her tongue licked at your lower lip and dipped into your open mouth, curling in and dancing with your own tongue. The sensation had you whining, heart squeezing with pleasure, throat humming with sound. Larissa’s lips twitched into a smirk, smug and proud as she kissed you breathless. As she ran her hands along your sides. As she bent her knees and tucked her palms beneath your thighs, quick and smooth, before standing tall again. Taking you with her. Lifting you like Hades with his bride. Never letting your mouth leave her warmth for even a second as her muscles flexed beneath her shirt. And whatever surprised little sound you let out was quickly muffled- rectified- by a low moan from your lover’s lungs. Oh, she sounded so beautiful. So happy. So satisfied. And enraptured. And starved. Not even a tremble wracked her body as she leaned forward and kept you pinned to the wall. Pinned and spread. Your legs pressed against her curves, your thighs squeezed her waist, not letting her go even though you knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Even though the way your body fit against hers was something no god could ever experience. It was too good. It felt too right.
And you kissed until your lips tingled, pink and swollen and just as gorgeous as Larissa’s - both of you smeared with the red of her lipstick. The taste of her mouth, red-wined and human, lathered your tongue, making you swallow as you tried committing her to memory. But even as you leaned your head back against the wall, catching your breath, trying to relish in the feeling, Larissa continued her attack and struck gold.
Wanting lips trailed from the side of your mouth to your chin, soft and slow, running down down down until they grazed the sensitive skin of your neck and had your mouth opening with a gasp. She was ravenous but restrained, moving like a hungry snake to strike at your flesh and kiss kiss kiss her way to heaven. The little wet sounds her mouth made had your eyes rolling back, quickly falling into darkness as you closed them and hummed in delight.
“How long have you wanted this?” Larissa’s voice was gravelly, interrupted only by her soft pants. “How long have you wanted me?”
“So long,” was your whimpered response. “So long- so l-long-” there was a crack in your tone when she moved her head and decided to lick a long thick line up the side of your neck, pushing her tongue against your skin with fervor. Like she was trying to eat you. Consume you. Resist the instinct to sink her teeth into your warm flesh.
“Hm,” was the last thing you heard before Larissa removed her mouth and started to loosen her hold on your body.
Panic tugged at you.
“N-no no, what are you doing?” You shook your head, trying to tighten your hold around her. But Larissa had always been stronger and she easily let you slip away and forced your feet to touch the ground. “No no no-”
“Shh,” she murmured, running her hands up to your face. “Do as I say and get on the bed for me. Yes?”
You swallowed, resisting the urge to smile as your heart did somersaults within your chest. Yes! It’s happening! Yes yes yes finally! This is it this is it! Yes yes!
“Yes. Sure,” you nodded into her hold, blushing hard when her palms tightened around your cheeks.
There was a sudden sharp edge to her eyes as her brows set, falling to shadow her gaze.
“Yes, who?”
Yes… who? You frowned.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“Yes. Who.” Larissa repeated herself, leaning down until the tip of her nose brushed yours. Her hands moved, one shifting down to tug at your waist, to bring you even closer, while the other wrapped around your chin and tightened. “Think, darling. I know you have a brain in there somewhere,” she whispered, sounding like velvet and feeling like heaven.
She was right, naturally. You did have a brain. It was half mush due to her attention, but it was still somewhat there. You took a moment to search through it. Yes who yes who yes who yes who yes- who-
“Yes, a-alpha?” Came your little squeak. It didn’t sound quite right but if she wanted to be technical about it, and if she liked that, then that was what she was.
A warm twinkling laugh met your ears. It was soft and amused, leading you to smile in reply as you admired the way Larissa’s eyes squinted with mirth. Clearly you’d gotten it wrong.
“Cute,” she nodded, “but not the one I’m looking for, sweet girl. Try again for me.”
Right. Try again. Okay. You bit your lip, growing antsy in your waiting.
“Um- Yes… Mistress?” It was a shot in the dark - and you missed.
Larissa tsked, her breath huffing against the curve of your lips as you watched her raise an eyebrow. She felt so good… so warm… you swallowed, eyes darting down to watch her lick at her lower lip.
“No, darling… Do I really need to coax it out of you?”
Then her tone changed- flipped like a tossed coin; it became high and taunting and coy as she moved her head and pressed her lips to your ear.
“Or are we both going to pretend that you don’t want to call me Mommy?”
It was said so sweetly- so slowly- that you thought you may be hallucinating. When you go to move your head back, to look into her eyes properly, the hand on your chin wraps around your throat and presses. It’s not hard, not by any means. Just the slightest pressure - barely there. A silent claim. Ownership. And Larissa doesn’t stop.
“Hm? Is that what we’re going to do sweetheart?” The hand on your hip moved down to squeeze your ass; the bite of her nails through your slip, digging into your skin, made your thighs clench- desperately trying to provide friction for an ache you had yet to take care of. “Are we going to ignore your desire for Mommy instead of Mistress?” There was a pause as she pressed a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “Unless you want to call me Alpha-”
“No,” you gasped, quiet and quick. Alpha was not her title. She wasn’t a dog. And she wasn’t a ruthless violent angry horny authoritative creature.
She was Larissa.
She was..
She was -
“No.. Mommy.”
The noise that rumbled up from her chest made your skin run hot. It was full of deep pleasure. Like the bits of wolf that ran through her blood were very happy with your submission. So happy, in fact, that she pulled back to give you a large toothy grin.
“That’s my girl.” Came her chimed praise as the hand around your throat slid away and her fingertips went to caress the side of your face. “So obedient for me… so good…”
Yes yes yes so good always so good always hers always need her- need to be kissed by her- fucked by her- dominated by her- always-!
Your hands landed on her shoulders before you could blink, instantly going to push- push push push until she’s backing up. Spurred on only by your deep desire to see her on the bed, spread out, panting, just as wanting and desperate as you. But you don’t get very far. Maybe one or two steps backward, making you think you’d actually be able to bend her slightly to your will - but then there are strong tapered fingers wrapping around your wrists and tugging them off of her shoulders.
“Ah ah ah,” Larissa admonished, shaking her head and looking deep into your eyes. “I don’t remember you being the Mommy.” She was smug, so smug, as she turned you both around and began walking forward.
You nearly stumbled over your own feet in your haste to back up toward the bed.
“I can be the Mommy,” you grumbled, shooting her a playful glare.
It was a lie, of course. You were a strong soul, but rarely one to take full control of a sexual moment. If it was something less… kinky… then you could certainly provide pleasure; but in that moment, with every inch of your libido working against you- forcing you to desire the floor beneath your knees and the thick of Larissa’s cock in your mouth- well. That was different.
“Oh can you?” A light eyebrow rose, ticking up at the exact moment that the backs of your legs hit the side of the bed and went buckling beneath the sudden feeling.
Your hands reached up to go for her shoulders, but the iron grip around your wrists kept you suspended. Then her hands were gone, in the blink of an eye, and you were released - and Larissa watched, with a flicker of sadistic delight, as you let out a small hiccuping gasp and fell backwards onto the mattress. When you looked up at her, an unserious glare in your eyes, you felt your heart skip several beats. Back again were you in that position… with her hips so close… and her body towering… and her carmine lips curled into an evil smirk.
“You were saying, love?” God she sounded so good… So soft and perfect, with her strong accent and delicate words and good lord- you couldn’t stop staring!
The only thing standing between you and the heaven between her legs were only about three pieces of cloth that could easily be torn in half- right off of your bodies- thrown to the floor. Your hungry gaze traced the curve of her thighs- from the soft dips of her skirt’s drape, to the plush spot in which those long gorgeous legs pressed together… leading right up to…
Your fingers twitched.
Please… please let me feel… please I want- want so bad- want to- have- lick- need-
“Y/n.” You looked up. Larissa tilted her head.
“Yes?” God you sounded so hoarse-
“Yes…?” Her nostrils flared.
Oh. Right.
Warmth shot through your heart.
“Yes, Mommy?”
“Mmm,” she hummed, taking a moment to run her gaze over your face- your body- your soul. “...Tell me what you want.”
You blinked.
“What?” There’s no time for that! I need you and I need you now!
“I said,” two large palms slid into your hair, cupped the back of your head, and pulled you closer, “tell me what you want.”
She smelled so perfect. All floral-y and jasmine-y and precious and when your face was lightly pressed to the fabric of her skirt, you couldn’t help but take a deep breath and close your eyes. If heaven existed, it was most certainly between Larissa Weems’ thighs - both under her skirt and above it. Your arms, meanwhile, wrapped around the backs of her legs and curled under the skin beneath her knees, keeping her steady as she held you there. Not with enough pressure that you couldn’t breathe, but with all the intent to make you flushed. To have you panting. Thinking. Wanting.
Wanting so much… desiring so much… needing her- needing all of it- everything she’d give you-
“A-anything,” you stuttered, pulling your head back into her hold. Mmm her palms were so warm- so soft-
“Anything?” There was a gentle blush on the apples of Larissa’s cheeks - magnified only by the vague glow of your lamp. She outshined the sun, then. By far more glorious than any beautiful phenomena at dawn or dusk…
“Mhm,” you nodded, “anything.”
A bit of her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth, tucked under her teeth, bitten hard by a woman who clearly had things on her mind. Seeing you there, looking up at her as though she placed the very moon into the sky… oh she wanted to see you ruined. She wanted to see you owned. She wanted to see you begging, pleading, needing her, barely able to breathe without her in you- taking her- wanting her- calling her name- calling Mommy- Mommy-!
Falling prey to your body again, your gaze drifted back to Larissa’s waist- taking in the curves and the feminine beauty- imagining your hands gripping her hips, her thighs, her ass, pulling her closer; looking lower still to rest on- on- o- on… on…. oh… was- was that-
A bulge. Beneath her skirt. Straining against the material, held back by her waistband and her panties. Obviously hard and obviously- so obviously- big.
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Wow Ripley, way to drop this out of nowhere and end on such a vulgar note oooo.
Anyway, there will be a part IV (4). At some point. Don’t hold your breath. I love you. - Rip x
(Tell me if it’s good cuz I’ve never written smut before and I know we’re not even there yet.)
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Tag list: @weemssapphic @eveymay @enchantressb @machi-avelli @kimiinou @fyrecatz @i-wanna-be-a-deer @gwendolinechristieiscute @maviscreates @im-a-carnivorous-plant @readingtheentrails @queercodex @a-queen-and-her-throne
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celesterayel · 4 months
Text
match made in heaven | coriolanus snow
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pairing : coriolanus snow x scheming!reader
request: can I please have a mean!reader with snow whose absolutely obsessed with each other!!!!
IN WHICH — coriolanus snow isn't nice but neither are you. it's a match made in heaven.
"it was enchanting to meet you. all i know is, i was enchanted to meet you" - t.s.
w.c. 500+
warning(s) : snow being snow ✭・.
✩ ‧₊˚ authors note istg im so obsessed with this man and it's not even funny
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you hated him. you absolutely loathed coriolanus. now, that’s not to say you didn’t applaud his little performances or the way he could manipulate others around him to get what he wanted–because yes, it was impressive–but you hated how absolutely enchanted everyone was with him. 
there was no one at this stupid school or in the capitol that didn’t give him the attention that belonged to you. hell, even dean highbottom, who could give you a run for your money on how much he loathed snow, spent all his attention on that: hating him. you didn’t see what they saw. what was so special about someone who was named corioANUS snow?
you were so much prettier than he was, smarter than him, better in every way that mattered. you knew how to work the crowd to do your bidding. when others threatened your place or standing, you knew how to get rid of them quietly and efficiently so that no one knew it had been you behind it. 
of course, you were the top of the top. you didn’t understand all the fuss about him. one of these days, you were going to snap if one more teacher preached about “how perfect snow’s essay was!” or “how handsome he was!”. 
of course, you don’t know that while you obsess over the man, he’s doing the exact same. because look at how perfect you are! all he can think about is the fact that behind every innocent smile and kind act you hide behind, he can see the callousness and manipulation that you are. 
the man’s practically in love with you because for once, he doesn’t necessarily need to pretend to be nice or sweet. add to the fact that you're the perfect match for him when he becomes president of panem. man has already bought the ring that he’ll propose to you with one day.
that is after he’s made sure you won’t tell others about how crazy he truly is. he cannot risk his plans falling down the drain even for you. so, when you're on your way home, he’s got you pinned to the wall starting a whole speech about what would happen to you if you said anything. 
that’s when you fall in love. hands pinned to the wall as he’s threatening your life. what’s more romantic than being told you’ll die if you say anything about him? Well, him pressing a rough kiss to your lips as you stare at him. 
“are you out of your mind?”
“only for you, darling, only for you.”
y’all, are both whipped for each other from then on. 
you both collude from there: you need someone gone? snow doesn’t need another word, he's already making sure they're gone. because nothing is going to bother his sweet, sweet girl. he’s slightly unsure of how to proceed with something? you create an ingenious plan so quickly the man kisses you to high heaven because he’s so in awe. 
when he does become president of panem, the man just cannot get enough of you. he’s never loved you more but now all he can think about is how good power looks on you. when you walk into a room, you instantly capture his eye. he swears he’ll die before you ever leave his side. 
he’s still not a good person though but neither are you. you’re both a match made in heaven.
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