#i was going to doodle too but wrists
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“Those um... ‘Kids’ Have Quite The Temper”
An entirely unedited little fic for @unexpectedtraveler‘s prompt of ‘ Hyrule using his fairy form to commit shenanigans.’ (I have half an idea for the other, but this caught my brain). It... Got a little carried away with itself, as did Hyrule and himself, but shenanigans definitely occur! I hope you enjoy.
Is cut at the first scene change to save your dash.
All gen, all fluffy chaos, mostly Hyrule, the chain, and a surprise guest.
Summary: Hyrule makes a friend
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The Chain had stopped for the evening, somewhere in Time's Hyrule. It was a pretty evening, all calm with a sunset of pinks and oranges, and the mood was light. Time in his wisdom had declared their camping space entirely safe; Hyrule, as was his want, immediately requested to go exploring. To everyone's surprise, Time had agreed with no more than an offhand "don't go too far".
It really must have been safe, then.
Hyrule had quickly disappeared into the woods, woods which tasted of ancient magics. Once he was sure he was not followed, he relaxed, and pulled apart his Hylian form.
There, that was better. Even with all of the fighting the pressure of his magic had been building, it's only true release being to fly around.
In the form of a tiny fairy he darted around in a few circles, his latent magic causing a few flowers to bloom early. Oops. Oh well. It would be pretty - he plucked one, intent on doing... Something with it. But what?
He could give it to one of the other Links...
But, they did not know of his other form, and he did not think he wanted them to. He could... Just leave it in someone's bag, then! A gift from the forest. Despite his glow he was excellent at sneaking, even in this form.
Perfect!
He hoisted up the flower, only to quickly abandon it as he noticed a pile of seeds. Seeds were much better! It would be no strain to carry them, and he could just grow the flowers inside their bags. Pretty gifts, and something to spend his overflowing magic on!
Some part of Hyrule, some integral, Hylian part warned against the plan. Hyrule, currently a fairy and driven by the same impulsiveness, ignored it.
Flowers.
Flowers for everyone.
Consequences did not compute to his tiny fairy mind, only the pleasure that pretty flowers would bring.
So he tucked the seeds away, and fluttered back in the direction of camp.
---
By the time he had reached camp, Hyrule had collected far, far too many seeds. Going entirely unnoticed he had planted a couple in every bag - his own included - and dusted them in fairy dust until they grew. Even then, however, he still had many left.
What to do, what to do... It would be sad to let the seeds go to waste, but he was already back at camp, and he still had them all...
From somewhere nearby, Hyrule heard a strange clackering. It sounded... Too close!
Without even thinking he darted up and into the overhanging trees. From his position he peered down, trying to find the source...
Warriors seemed to have had the same thought, for his was heading in the direction of the bags. A look around and he saw nothing, but then he looked down.
"Which one of you thinks you're funny?!" He called.
"I'm hilarious," Legend deadpanned back.
Warriors turned on him, wielding the three flowers from his bag, "is this your fault?!"
Fault?
Hyrule's wings quivered. Did... Did Warriors not like the gift? How... How would he not like the flowers? Life was so important! Hyrule had given him a gift of life! Did he not appreciate it?!
Time's eyes were the ones to narrow on the flowers, even as Warriors and Legend bickered. With a thoughtful frown he went to his own equipment, and pulled out the flowers between his sword and bedroll.
"It seems," he said, gesturing to Warriors with the flowers. "That the forest is granting us her blessing."
That caused Legend to go silent, but his frown to deepen. He marched over to his bag, pulling out the flowers. For a moment he stared at them, face paling, before rooting around.
"Hey! I've got some too!" Wind called over.
"Me and Hyrule as well," Four showed off his own, and pointed to the ones peeking through a hole in Hyrule's bag - a very cute display, if Hyrule said so himself.
Soon enough, every hero of courage had confirmed the presence of the flowers. Some had taken it better than others, but Time had somehow convinced them that it was all fine. Now satisfied that everyone liked his gifts, Hyrule swung his legs, and giggled. The grove below tasted of confusion and happiness, and the gentle smile on Time's face was worth so very much.
And if Legend was sneaking glances at his flowers, gently and carefully pressing them between book pages for preservation, then Hyrule would keep quiet. Fairies learnt all sorts of secrets, and they usually kept them. Not from their sisters, of course, but from Hylian ears at least.
And then, there was another clacking.
This time, Hyrule was in a position to see it. His eyes narrowed on... A wooden... Oh! A Skull Kid! Weren't they still playing hide and seek with time? He looked like one of those three...
Moments after Hyrule had noticed him, the Skull Kid put a little stick to his lips. With a harsh puff a seed burst from the end, tapping against Time's armour with an audible clang.
Audible to Hyrule at least; nobody else seemed to notice.
Well that wasn't to do! Time had promised to play with the forest friends, and failed to do so. Currently more fairy than Hylian, the very idea of that was a grave offence to Hyrule! Not one deserving of pain, but...
He looked at the bag of seeds in his hand, then at the Skull Kid, then at the seeds again.
With a dangerous grin, Hyrule fluttered down.
The Skull Kid started when he got there; Hyrule offered up the seed back. His new friend looked at it before taking a handful, putting them into his own pouch. The seed-shooter was reloaded, and the Skull Kid took aim again.
"Aim there," Hyrule pointed to a gap in Time's armour. "Then he'll feel it."
In either form Hyrule understood the chittering of all forest and magically inclined creatures, but only in this one could he speak it; understanding Hyrule the Skull Kid nodded, and adjusted his aim.
"I'll help," Hyrule whispered, taking back to the air.
Moments later there was a yelp as a seed hit Time squarely in the back of the knee. As Time turned to look - and the rest of the Chain grabbed their weapons - Hyrule threw a seed of his own.
His one-hand toss was less accurate than the Skull Kid with the little blowpipe; it clipped Time's ear, going unnoticed.
Time, being Time, found the Skull Kid moments later. He was looked dead in the eye before said spirit tooted in his horn, and launched another seed into Time's exposed skin.
"... I suppose this is revenge?" Time asked, surprisingly cheerful as he waved everyone else back to relax.
"You said you'd play," the Skull Kid chittered back. "You lied."
"I didn't lie, I just-"
No, Time had lied. As a fairy, Hyrule was certain of it. He grabbed a fistful of seeds, throwing them all at Time before he could make any stupid excuses.
The eye snapped upwards, focusing on him. With the height advantage and the glare of sunset Time could not possibly identify him, but he could certainly pick out a fairy form.
The Skull Kid blew another seed - a bigger one this time - into the back of Time's other knee.
Time looked a little less amused this time. Hyrule did not even think before upending the bag, dropping his whole collection on Time's head. In the startlement that followed he swooped down, grabbing the Skull Kid's hand.
"Run!" He called in the voice of the forest, already laughing.
The Skull Kid nodded, sprinting away. He did not let go of Hyrule, however, dragging him along for the ride.
Together they ran a little way, until they were sure they were free, before dropping to the floor. Immediately, Hyrule burst into a fit of giggles.
"Did you see his face?!" Hyrule giggled. "It was all scrunched up!"
"Like this!" Being a Skull Kid, Hyrule's newest friend could not imitate the face. He could, however, make the magic taste like it.
Hyrule nodded, giggling even more.
Skull Kid also burst out laughing - a sound that was surely terrifying to Hylians but was beautiful to fairy ears.
Together the two of them laughed, until the dark started to draw in.
Hyrule had to be back for dinner; he hugged the Skull Kid's arm as he made a reluctant goodbye.
The Skull Kid seemed reluctant, too, but let him go when another of his kind appeared, and he began explaining his terrible revenge...
Hyrule slipped away and shifted back, and began wandering back to camp.
---
"Hyrule!" Warriors called as Hyrule rounded the corner. "You missed the excitement!"
Hyrule cocked his head to the side with a quiet "oh?"
"Skull Kid was back," Twilight was clearly trying not to laugh at the sight of Wild picking seeds out of Time's hair. "He wasn't happy, and seemed to have a friend."
"Twilight did warn you," Legend grinned, before turning back to Hyrule. "The rest of us just got flowers."
"Flowers?"
Wind nodded. "There's some in your bag too; Four saw them through the holes."
"Which reminds me - you need to patch that," Warriors followed up with.
Knowing that he was not going to until it was much worse, Hyrule none the less nodded. He wandered over, plucking out the flowers, and tucking them into his hair. With a twirl - maybe a little of the fairy was lingering on his personality, but there was nothing wrong with embracing that freedom - Hyrule showed the flower off.
Time's eye narrowed on him once again, but it was Wild that spoke, "you look just like a forest spirit, 'Roolie!"
Unable to help himself, Hyrule laughed, and shook his head, "I'm not nearly that pretty."
"That's what a hair brush is for!" Legend and Warriors called back, in perfect unison.
"Forest spirits don't brush their hair, though," Four looked thoughtful, but Hyrule could read the tiny bit of mischief in the studious frown. "So it can't be that."
Knowing danger when he saw it, Hyrule ran over to the campfire and wriggled himself between Sky and Wind. He would have preferred Wild, but the cook was busy
"So, dinner?"
"Just fixing Time's hair then it'll be done!" Wild called. "Or... No this will take a while - help yourselves."
As ever, food moved the conversation on.
It didn't stop everyone from giggling any time they looked at Time, or - worse - when he was still finding seeds on his person a week and two portals later, of course.
#linked universe#lu fanfic#lu hyrule#fairy hyrule#lu skull kid#lu time#look this is definitely lu its consequences of a canon occurence!#fanfic#fluff#friendship#i was going to doodle too but wrists#maybe another time#or if anyone else wants to draw hyrule and skull kid legging it they're welcome to#it'll probably make ao3 eventually but for now is just here#hope you enjoy!#fairy!Hyrule
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pocket-square sized
#rgg#ryu ga gotoku#ryu ga gotoku 3#yakuza series#yakuza#yoshitaka mine#snap sketches#HIIIIIIIII my wrist still hurts#i WAS just gon watch nakai movies while i rested but i fear ive watched all the available ones with eng subs.. //screams//#my bro picked me up onea them neat wrist support gloves tho so the pain is significantly gone and i can move my fingers better now#ill still let it rest for another couple days but recovery times lookin optimistic :]#as for this doodle.... i tolds you i MUST draw despite the injury... its my duty...#also i finished a comm today and since i had some practice drawing one handed working on that i figured id try drawin somethin small#and since it been a while since drawn mine... teehee..#def wont be doin any comics any time soon or even more detailed stuff but this is cute nuff for now#lol this is the timeline if i worked on my rgg stickers long enough to get to y3#since ive drawn mine tho ive been reminded.. i wont be able to go to animenyc this november :( too expensive for me this year#mabes ill go to animenext in like june or wait until next year to go to animenyc but </3 public dont get to see me mine cosplay </3#mabes when my wrist gets better ill wear it for fun but anyway typing like this still sucks so byee !!!!!!!
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hour 14 of taking a break from art for the sake of my tendons: i am Wailing and Keening and Scratching Forlornly At My Tablet
#i dont know if im strong enough but i Need to be strong enough#cant continue doodling if ya wrist doesnt work#clenching my fists and chanting 'this is necessary this is necessary'#ive been going way too hard lately. unfortunately#curse this mortal body and its stupid bullshit mechanics that dont even work half the time#gonna cope by eating overly spicy soup and crochet#well no. i cant crochet. ten minutes of that hurts worse than scribbling for eight gay hours#to put it quite simply - but with feeling: FUCK!#absolutely unprompted#howling and sobbing and baying etc etc#i was gonna finish that commission tonight. then i was gonna start on something else i promised Days ago.#maybe get some doodles done for asks.#work on vines part 2.#but it oof ouch too much :/#what the hell am i supposed to do now#fold laundry? clean my room? read? WRITE? ha dont make me laugh#i havent written in 2 months and im not about to start now#(said immediately before screaming into a pillow)#maybe ill like... go through my replies for once... see if people are trying to talk to me...#see if im brave enough to Directly Interact outside of asks...
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Miguel facing any problem too hard to solve immediatly in the comics: BITES YOU BITES YOU BITES YOU
And yes his boxers say abdomen
#miguel o'hara#spiderman 2099#my art#across the spiderverse#atsv fanart#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman#atsv#xina kwan#migs: im going to fakking get you#bites da shet out of u#in my mind i bet he has to be careful with his venom tho and had to learn how to pump just the right dose#cause while its a paralyzing venom too much and yer heart can just stop#i bet he did whole ass kill a lot of people first learnign that way or do a KD50 using his venom in the lab at work before he used it#and i bet he has to milk himself#but sowey lads all i got is doodles today my wrist is killing me from tryin to draw somthin every night
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head empty wrist broken* only ace trappola spinning right round baby right round in my head like a rotisserie chicken 🙏
#MY WRIST IS NOT BROKEN BTW#IT SHOUKD BE FINE just gotta put an arm brace on 😭😭#:( sadly I cannot illustrate my ace trappola thoughts#yeah I’m gon whine about this for a while#maybe I’ll go RB my ashace doodle too#<3 for everyones daily dose of ashace#ashi talks ☆
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Another 9 doodle pages sketched out 👍
#didnt think we'd go for this character next but yknow it makes sense too#not art#karmas clown moments#gotta sleep for work and our wrist is too sore to continue today either way but#just glad drawing is fun again now. i hope it lasts#anyway if anyone has a specific twst character you want us to doodle let me know ^^#not sure ill have these drawings done by tomorrow to post but should get a good couple lined anyway
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Happy birthday, my favorite good boy,,,
#ringmaster doodles#twst#twisted wonderland#deuce spade#twst deuce#IS HIS BIRTHDAY… I had to go all out for him. at least once.#when I’m posting this it is still the 3rd somehow.#when my friends see it it will no longer be the 3rd I think but whatever is my fault for doing it so late orz#my hand hurts too much to add the little white sparkles and the stars like my wrist hurts like hell but all for Deuce ALL for Deuce.#also yes his tongue is blue I do that sometimes it looks better to me 🤔
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on my puter
(I made this with no consideration to sizing+how it would look on tumblr 💖💖💖)
#when the weird creature living in the vents of your place of work comes out at night and screws around on the computer#just like how you do when you're on shift#fursona#ytp#the line thickness is inconsistent and I can't focus on that too much lest I go apeshitt#also this took too much time to be just a silly little doodle. Sad! Well there's other webbed sites#if I was a better artist I would make everything look dark except for the computer screen. So just imagine that with your brain#also picked 'crystal fun park' cuz it's very close to the name of an arcade around here. idk if that's the name I'll stick with#OH also it's limp-wristed in the 3rd panel. doing raptor hands if you will#oc F#personable#wow I am actually proud of this#I made this :3
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Sir, Please.
Pair: Wonwoo x f.reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut. 18+ only (MDNI).
Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.
Warnings: Dom!Wonwoo, Sir! kink, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), squirting, clitoral stimulation, lots of making out, creampie, pussy slapping (like once), overstimulation, dacryphilia, breast play, wrist pinning, dirty talk, use of pet names (Sir, good girl, darling, love, baby, sweetie), glorious aftercare (Wonu is the best), fluff. Please let me know if i missed something. Not proofread, might come back to fix up errors.
WC: 3k
Author’s note: First smut piece for Wonwoo my love. This was only supposed to be post-sex cuddles fluff but thought it was the right time to finally write smut for my favorite boy. As is the plot of this piece, good things come to those who wait 😏 Enjoy!
Tagging fellow Wonu lovers @multi-kpop-fanfics @playmetheclassics for the chaos.
“What’re you doing?” Your boyfriend quizzed, your bare body still on top of his, a cheek resting against his bare chest.
“Doodling,” you mumbled casually as your finger continued to draw lazy patterns on his side.
“Darling, it tickles.”
“I don’t see you flinching.”
“You’re on top of me. If I flinch, you might fall.” He stated matter-of-factly.
You craned your neck to look up at him, flashing a wide grin momentarily, “then suffer.”
You shook along with Wonwoo as he laughed at your reply, a strong arm secured tightly around your torso, while his free hand cradled the back of your head.
A large smile was permanently etched on Wonwoo’s face as you both laid in comfortable silence. When he had collapsed onto you just minutes ago after reaching his climax, he had asked so nicely if he could stay inside a little longer and who were you to complain? You’ve craved for this kind of intimacy with him for awhile now after being both so busy with work.
“You’re lucky i love you,” Wonwoo declared as he kissed the top of your head.
You hummed in response, trailing your fingers again on his side, nails lightly scratching on his skin, “did you just write ‘i love you too’ on my ribs?” He laughs, and you nod an affirmative.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and snuggling more into your boyfriend’s chest. Now would be a good time for time to stand still. The setting sun casted warm hues of light inside your bedroom and while the airconditioning was cold, Wonwoo was radiating just the right amount of heat to keep you from shivering.
“I’ve missed you,” you blurted out.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed this,” another kiss was placed on top of your head, “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”
“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, resting your chin on his pecs to face him. “I wish i had more time to visit you in practice, or even just see you for lunch.”
“That’s okay, darling. We’re both just in our busy season. It will be over soon, yeah?” This time, Wonwoo’s palm was rubbing circular motions on the small of your back. “I was thinking we should go on a vacation when this all boils over.”
Your eyes grew wide, excited at your boyfriend’s suggestion, “really?”
“Yeah, maybe the countryside? Or out of the country? Where do you want?”
A blush crept up your cheeks at Wonwoo’s gesture of letting you choose, but honestly, you could’ve just stayed at your home and it would be okay. The last time you had a vacation, he made you choose the place too but this time, you didn’t really have a shortlist of destinations. You craned your neck to kiss his lips shortly, “surprise me?” You smiled shyly, “maybe somewhere peaceful and with fresh air? Anywhere as long as it’s with you is all I want, darling.”
“Okay, i’ll plan it out.” He confirmed before rolling you both over so his body hovered above yours
“Where are you going?” You pouted when he made a move to slip out of you.
“I need to clean you up, sweetie.”
You hooked a leg around his waist in retaliation, not at all ready to feel empty just yet. You attempted the most doe eyes you could muster, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes and clenching your pussy as you did so, “Don’t you wanna fuck me one more time?”
Wonwoo scoffed at your question, the corner of his lips pulling into a devious smile at your sweet tone, “can’t get enough, darling?” His voice was lower by a few octaves, enough to send a shiver through your spine and a gush of wetness in your cunt.
“N-no, sir.”
Wonwoo smirked at the nickname before doing an experimental thrust. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he simply chuckled before dragging his cock out slowly and then swiftly burying himself to the hilt, rendering you even more speechless than you were. He could feel the rhythmic spasming of your walls, causing him to grow harder and harder.
You cupped his face to bring it closer to yours, kissing him and sucking at his lower lip. Wonwoo smiles in the kiss, amused at your neediness especially when he feels you lift your hips and roll them on his.
“Eager are we?”
“Wonuuu,” you whined pathetically, clawing at his back.
“Wonu?” he questioned with a glare, pinning you to the mattress agressively, “that’s not what you called me minutes ago, darlin’”
“Well, I don’t know where he went. Maybe if you give me what I want then I’ll start calling you it again,” you smirked, dragging your nails a little more harshly on his skin making him hiss.
Wonwoo rolls his eyes, only to dive into your right breast and suck harshly at the bud, eliciting a loud moan from you. He snakes his hand in between you both, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, immediately feeling you clench around his dick again.He mutters something about you being responsive but it flies over your head as he picks up his pace. The slide is much easier given your mixed cum and your new arousal so it takes him record time to hit your sweet spot. Every ridge and vein on his cock drags against your walls in a way that’s more delicious than awhile ago.
“S-sir, pl-pleaasee,” you shake, the pit of your stomach tightening as you arch your back.
“Does my darling want to cum?” The nickname sounds sickly sweet as it rolls off his tongue and it only helps you get closer to the edge.
You nod your head repetitively, chants of ‘yes’s’ and ‘oh’s’ spilling from your lips, but then Wonwoo withdraws his hand from your sensitive bud and stills inside of you, a vice grip around your body as he licks the shell of your ear, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.” The words were loud, clear and firm, in a tone you knew all too well.
“But Won—“ you cry out loud, tears forming in your eyes as you feel your climax painfully float away.
“Nuh uh,” two harsh thrusts are delivered straight to your gspot as your boyfriend hooks one of your legs on his shoulder, “Call me wrong again and I will not let you cum at all.”
“Fuuuuck,” you mewl from the way his cock rams into you with the new angle, following it up with whines at the thought of getting no release, “S-sorry, sir! ‘M sorry!”
“There it is. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo mocks, “now be my good girl and hold it out for me, yeah?”
You’re a incoherent mess as you try to obey him, but it isn’t so easy when his large cock is abusing your sore, sloppy cunt. Words of filth pair each one of his powerful thrusts.
“My dirty little whore”
“So fuckin’ needy for my cock.”
“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”
“Your pussy is mine.”
“All made for me.”
You were letting out moans of pleasure as Wonwoo pounded into you mercilessly, the knot in your stomach making itself felt again.
“Fu– ah! Fuck, s-sir! Please!” You asked, but it only fell on deaf ears. Both your wrists were tightly pinned with just one of your boyfriend’s large hand above your head and his blown out pupils were looking right at you.
“Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum, please!!!” you begged shamelessly, voice shaking and legs closing in as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.
“Not. Yet.” Wonwoo withdrew fully from your hole and you shrieked at the loss, your hips lifting to chase after his dick only to have it slammed down by his free hand.
“Sir!!!” You scowled, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide, anger and pain washing away yet another failed orgasm.
A proud, lopsided smirk appeared on your boyfriend’s face. He licked his bottom lip, enjoying the torture he beset on you despite his painfully hard cock.
“What?”
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking, you knew that much.
“Nothing,” you cowered and blinked back your tears, erasing the anger in your face much to your dismay.
“Good girl.”
You swallowed thickly, squirming once more when Wonwoo tapped his heavy length on your pussy, coating himself with your slippery wetness— not that he needed any more of it— before purposely slapping your swollen clit with his angry red tip. The stimulation from that alone already had your toes curling and it took every fibre of your being to not just unravel right there.
You should’ve known calling him ‘sir’ would lead to this, but behind the tearful denials, you knew immense pleasure awaits.
“Siirrr, p-please! I n-need it.”
“Shhh. Patience, darling. We’ve got lots of time.” The demonic chuckle Wonwoo let out had you whimpering pitifully, your hands fighting to break free from his hold.
It seemed your boyfriend was hell bent on prolonging your agony when he simply continues to endlessly tap his shaft on your clit as he pumps himself.
Wonwoo was not usually loud in bed, save for his occasional grunts and broken groans when he falls into bliss. However, he’s decided now would be the perfect time to make matters all the more worse for you. He was being loud about it all, no holds barred. The squelching noises of his dick against your wet lips is now easily drowned out by the guttural moans Wonwoo has let slip past his mouth. You thought his dirty talk is music? Well, this was a symphony.
You had thought you wouldn’t get close this time around since he wasn’t inside you but the relentless knocks on your clit and the obnoxiously loud moans of your boyfriend have proved you wrong. Your hands balled into fists and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally fighting off the ball of pleasure in your lower abdomen.
“Look at you, fighting so hard,” Wonwoo snickers, pressing down the tip of his cock to your clit in slow circular motions, “show me how good you are yeah?”
“Yes yes yes! ‘M good! Your good girl, promise!” You were so far gone, pliant to each one of your boyfriend’s requests.
“So wet, you’re soiling the bed,” he points out the obvious, “what a fuckin’ mess.” Wonwoo saw another shiver run through you, indicating you were seconds away from release. So for the third time that day, he denies you of the very thing you crave for, letting go of your wrists and then landing a sharp smack to your pussy before completely backing away to watch you spasm and curl up into a ball of needy tears and pathetic whines.
Your head was spinning and your senses were more than heightened. The slippery feeling of your arousal between your thighs were making it harder for you to squeeze them shut and stay still. Wonwoo simply loomed over you, giving you enough time to stabilize your breathing and let your failed orgasm ebb away. He knew that if he’d put so much just as one finger on your skin, you’d cum right away. Contrary to his actions, he wanted you to cum, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you cry for it first.
“S-sirr,” you sobbed.
A gentle touch carefully landed on your calf and when you didn’t flinch away, Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, “Yes, baby?”
“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, “n-need you…”
Whatever other words you had planned were swallowed by Wonwoo in a searing kiss. It was sloppy and messy, his skillful tongue darting to yours, teeth biting at your lips. You both moaned in unison when he impaled you on his cock once more.
“So big,” you groaned, initially amused at the delicious stretch until you realised, he’s had to hold off his own orgasm too.
Wonwoo gives it his all, jackhammering into you like it would be the last time. The sound of moans and skin slapping skin reverberate around the room. And then, there it is again, a coil so tight on your stomach, you fear you’re going delirious to the point of no return.
“Wo— Sir!” You quickly correct yourself, losing the least bit of dignity you had, tears drenching your cheeks, “i’m b-begging, p-please…”
The gentle kiss on your nose set a stark contrast from how his cock abused your sopping cunt, but relief finally took over you at the words whispered in your ear, “so good for me. Let go, baby. I got you.”
A strangled cry ripped out of your throat, your orgasm gloriously hitting you like a tidal wave. Wonwoo continued to talk you through it while holding down your convulsing body and slamming his hips into you, the sight of your pussy creaming his cock eventually producing broken moans from him.
“B-babe, too– ah! Too m-much!” More tears fell on your face as Wonwoo did deep snaps, his pelvic bone grinding on your clit.
“C’mon baby, m’ close. S-so close!”
Incomprehensible noises tumbled out of you when your boyfriend buried himself deep, pushing onto your sweetest spot and stilling there. Between his guttural groans, the perfect ‘O’ shape of his mouth and the thick loads of hot white cum that flooded your velvety walls, another coil snapped within you, a new round of arousal seeping out of your spent hole, except this time, much wetter and hitting you like a ton of bricks.
“Fuuuck, darling,” Wonwoo trembled as the last of his nectar oozed out, “did I just make you squirt?”
“Fuck off,” you scowled, wishing you had more energy to wipe the smug look plastered on your boyfriend’s face.
“So I did?” Wonwoo pursed his lips and scrunched his nose, a look you very much love but absolutely hate right now.
You let your bottom lip jut out in a pout, your brows drawing to the center of your face, “how could I not when you edged me like that!”
“You’re cute,” was his only response, very slowly slipping his softening cock out of you. Your sweet boyfriend peppered kisses all over your face, replacing your frown with a smile. “Did I make you feel good, darling?” He asked genuinely, not wanting to ever subject you to something which you didn’t enjoy doing.
You gave him a shy nod, pulling him closer by his neck to close the gap between your mouths and share a loving kiss, much like how it was way earlier. It didn’t take long for you to part, your lungs still recharging to full capacity after having all the air knocked out of you.
Wonwoo gave you more time to recover, resting his head on the crook of your neck to leave soft kisses on your skin, especially on the blooming bruises he left in his wake.
“Darling, you can’t sleep yet,” he shook you gently when he noticed your prolonged stillness.
A small whine escaped your lips, “but Woo… i’m tired.”
“I know, i know,” he hushed softly, “but we need to get you cleaned up and also, change the sheets. I’ll make it quick.”
You had no time nor energy to protest. You were simply being carried bridal style into the bathroom, your boyfriend making sure you peed before he went on to wash up yours and his sweaty body with warm water. He was so so tender with his touch, especially in all parts between your legs. He’d keep an observant eye to every reaction your face made, careful not to cause any pain.
“Can… can you be mine?” you squeaked, and Wonwoo giggled at the drunken look of love on your face. Every time you think nothing can top sex with your boyfriend in your own little list of World’s Most Wonderful Things, you’re reminded that aftercare by him exists.
“Darling, i’m already yours,” Wonwoo chuckles.
You noded with a grin, brain really starting to drift off into slumber, “I like that.”
He fixes his glasses by the bridge of his nose after giving you a once-over, now dressed in cotton panties and one of his large navy blue shirts which hung mid-thigh on you.
Wonwoo lifts you up to sit on the bathroom counter before cupping your cheeks to meet your eyes, “baby, can you sit here and wait for me for about 10 to 15 minutes, please? I need to change our sheets.”
He had expected you to whine and retaliate, knowing you were always extra clingy after sex, but you simply nodded and smiled. You think you felt his lips on your forehead but you aren’t too sure.
The moment Wonwoo slips out of the bathroom, you’re fighting not to fall asleep, but 15 minutes is long, and maybe you can just lean your head a bit on the cold marble tile—
“Let’s get you to bed, love,” the tall man chuckles as he lifts you in his arms. You swore it hadn’t been fifteen minutes, not even ten! But then he walks past your bed and out of your shared bedroom. The light of the hallway enough to stir your brain awake.
“Where are we going?” You ask, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as he cradles you into another room.
Wonwoo laughs at your question, “We have to take the guest bedroom for the night, darling. You’ve soaked through our mattress.”
#svt#seventeen#svthub#svt x reader#svt smut#seventeen smut#svt fic#seventeen fic#svt one shot#seventeen one shot#svt image#seventeen imagine#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fic#wonwoo imagine#wonwoo one shot#wonwoo x reader#paula writes ✨#paula writes smut
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-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+
Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea
Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻
A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)
Masterlist - requests are open :)
Arthur Morgan
- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you
- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.
- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3
- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.
- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.
- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.
- Forehead kisses!!!!!
- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.
- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you
NSFW
- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.
- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him
- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “
- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.
- Refuses to finish before you ever.
- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “
- Grips The headboard.
John Marston
- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.
- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘
- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.
- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.
- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.
- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.
- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.
- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.
NSFW
- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.
- Not very serious most of the time.
- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.
- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.
- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.
- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.
- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.
Dutch Van Der Linde
- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.
- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.
- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.
- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.
- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.
- Reads to you a lot.
- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.
NSFW
- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur
- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.
- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde
- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.
- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.
- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “
- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.
- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.
- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.
Sadie Adler
- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.
- Shes just so sweet to you.
- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat
- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.
- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.
- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.
- Big spoon.
NSFW
- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom
- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While
- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you
- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “
- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.
- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.
- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time
- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.
Molly O’Shea
- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.
- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being
- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “
- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.
- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red
- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes
- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.
- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.
NSFW
- Pillow princess. End of story.
- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes
- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.
- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.
- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.
- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.
- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.
- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.
#disclaimer as always with hcs#these are my thoughts and not to be taken too seriously#don’t get salty if you don’t agree.#my hcs for any character seem to draw at least one salty person out#it’s fic! enjoy it!#arthur morgan x reader#Dutch van der Linde x reader#molly O’Shea x reader#John Marston x reader#Arthur Morgan#molly o'shea#sadie adler#john marston#dutch van der linde#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 fanfic#x you#fluff#smut#sadie adler x reader
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Inked - Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie loves the doodles from his favorite girls so much that he gets them permanently etched on his skin.
Note: Dad!eddie, mom!reader
Words: 1.8k
“I can’t study anymore,” you whine, dropping your head down on your kitchen table.
Eddie watches you with an adoring smile on his face. He slides his hand over and snatches up the pen you were taking your notes with. A tapping on the back of your hair has you picking up your head and looking at your boyfriend.
“Take a break,” Eddie says, offering the pen to you. “Do a little doodling.”
“I don’t wanna mess up my notes,” you say with the most adorable pout Eddie’s ever seen.
“On me,” he answers. He flips his arm over so you can draw on the inside of his right wrist.
“I dunno what to draw,” you tell him.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
You wrinkle your nose in concentration, practically making Eddie fall in love with you all over again. Sometimes he feels like he has to restrain himself from telling you just how much you mean to him. He’s afraid he’ll scare you off if he tells you that he’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let him.
An idea finally comes to you, and you hold his arm steady with one hand, and put the pen to his skin with the other. Your brow pinches in concentration as you drag the tip along to make the design. Eddie decides not to look until you’re finished, wanting to be surprised by your completed masterpiece.
“Am I hurting you?” you ask, glancing up at him.
“Not at all.”
“Almost done!”
“Take your time, baby.”
“Tada!” You lean back and put the cap on the pen. Eddie raises his wrist up to inspect your artwork. He grins at the little stick figure kitty cat you’ve drawn.
“He’s perfect,” he tells you.
“She,” you insist. “She’s a female cat.”
“My apologies. She’s perfect,” Eddie corrects.
“Thank you very much,” you say, pulling your textbook closer towards you, ready to study again.
Between work and a family member’s wedding, you don’t get to see Eddie over the weekend. When he picks you up for school on Monday morning, he has a bright beaming smile on his face.
“Someone looks happy,” you say as you click your seatbelt into place. “You know we’re going to school, right?”
Eddie’s too excited, he can’t even find the words. So instead, he tugs up the sleeve of his leather jacket and shows you the inside of his wrist. At first you don’t understand what’s got him so worked up. It’s just the cat that you drew on him a few days ago, what’s the big deal? But you pick up on how the drawing doesn’t look the least bit faded after all this time. In fact, it looks a bit darker. The skin around the outline of the cat also looks raised and red. You suck in a harsh gasp as your eyes widen in realization.
“You got it tattooed on you?!” The pitch of your voice rings in Eddie’s ears and he lets out a chuckle.
“I did. Now I can look at my baby’s artwork anytime I want to.”
You want to tell him how absurd it is that he did this, that he might regret it later on. But you’re too overwhelmed by the fact that he got your cartoon permanently inked on his body. It’s not even anything meaningful, just a silly little cat. But to him, it was important enough to keep forever. Your eyes mist over, and you shake your head.
“You don’t like it?” Eddie asks, his heart plummeting.
“Eds, I love it. I just can’t believe you’d do this for something I drew on you.”
“There’s nothing I’d rather have on me,” he says.
You unhook your seatbelt and launch yourself across the van at him. He laughs as he catches you, settling you in his lap as best he can.
“I love you so much,” you mumble into his neck.
“I love you too, baby.” He tilts your chin up and presses his lips against yours. “Purr-ever.”
You wrinkle up your nose at the pun and shake your head. “No, we’re gonna have to come up with a name for this little feline. I will not stand for awful puns about her.”
Eddie laughs and nods his head in agreement.
“We can do that.”
Ten years later, it’s a rainy Monday and Eddie’s trying to keep your four-year-old daughter entertained until you come home from work in a few hours. So far, they’ve played Barbies, Go Fish, and even watched The Little Mermaid twice. All after her day of preschool.
Bailey’s now itching for another activity to amuse her and stumbles upon the box of crafts in her room.
“Ooh, Daddy!” She shouts, even though he’s right behind her. “Can we color?”
“Sure thing, kiddo.”
He helps her carry the coloring books, crayons, and markers to the kitchen table. She spreads them all out, needing to see every last thing before she decides what she wants to work on. Settling on a Minnie Mouse coloring book, Bailey situates herself in her chair to get as comfortable as possible. Eddie selects a coloring book full of fairytales because he knows there are a few creatures in that one who remind him of D&D monsters. Father and daughter color in silence for a while, only the occasional hum of approval coming from either of them. Eddie glances over to see Bailey’s nose wrinkled up as she concentrates and her small tongue poking out of her pink lips. Traits she inherited from each of you right there on display.
“Done!” Bailey announces once she’s finished her rendering of Minnie in a purple polka dot dress. Eddie looks over at it and nods appreciatively.
“That’s real pretty, princess.”
Bailey flips through the pages but huffs when she can’t find another one that she wants to color. Eddie notices her impatience and quirks an eyebrow at her.
“What is it, rugrat?”
“Dunno what I wanna color,” she says, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped up on the kitchen table. Eddie decides to let her figure it out on her own, wanting her to be able to make her own decisions. He goes back to coloring his picture of a fairy, but before long he feels a poking at his arm. Turning his head, he sees Bailey giving him an adorable grin—the one she uses when she wants something.
“May I help you?” he asks.
“Can I color on you?” Bailey asks, eyeing the pale expanse of Eddie’s left arm that his Iron Maiden t-shirt leaves uncovered.
“I guess so.” Eddie caps his marker and holds his arm out to his little girl. Bailey grabs a lime green marker and holds it above the skin on the side of his elbow. She stares, little brows furrowing together.
“Dunno what to draw.”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
Bailey thinks a few moments longer before lowering the marker, letting the green ink stain her father's skin. Eddie hears the front door of the apartment open and a giddy smile spreads on his face, excited to see you even though it’s only been a few hours. He can hardly wait as he hears you taking your shoes off and setting your things down. When you walk into the kitchen, you chuckle at the sight in front of you.
“What’s going on here?” you ask.
“Hi, Mommy,” Bailey says, not taking her eyes off of her creation.
“A little artist is at work,” Eddie says, holding his right arm out for you. You take his hand, and he presses kisses across your knuckles.
“Tada!” Bailey leans back and puts the cap back on the marker. Eddie turns to see a bright green smiley face on the side of his arm, one eye bigger than the other, and squiggly lines coming from the top of its head.
“It’s lovely,” Eddie says, grinning at his daughter.
“He’s lovely,” you correct him, knocking your hip against him playfully. “I love the squiggles on his head.”
“That’s his hair! It’s like Daddy’s!”
Now that she says it, the green spirals do resemble Eddie’s curls.
“I love it, princess,” he tells her. There’s a proud smile on her face as she leans up and presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.
When you and Eddie are getting ready for bed that night, you chuckle when he takes his shirt off, giving you a better view of the green art.
“Don’t be laughing at my new ink,” Eddie teases. “Best tattoo artist I ever had.”
“Oh, really?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, it’s a tie,” Eddie relents. He turns his arm so he can get a better look at his little Picasso’s work. “Think I’ll get this inked too.” The way he smiles so fondly at the marker design gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling.
“She’d love that,” you say as you pull down the blankets on your bed.
“Don’t be jealous,” Eddie says as he climbs in on the other side. “Dinah is still my favorite.” Your husband holds up his wrist to you, showing off the stick figure cat you drew back in high school. “Favorite tattoo, that is. She’s my second favorite pussy.”
Eddie barks out a laugh as you lean over and swat at him.
The next day, Eddie waits anxiously outside of Bailey’s preschool classroom. Kids could be blunt and would tell you if they didn’t like something. What if Bailey wasn’t happy he got her drawing tattooed on him? Would she understand the emotion and sentiment behind it? Eddie doesn’t have time to think about it before the door opens and a dozen munchkins are swarming around, trying to find their parents.
“Daddy!”
“Bailey!”
She runs to him, arms raised, and he gladly snatches her up and holds her on his hip.
“How was school, princess?”
“Was good,” she answers.
He starts to walk out of the school with her, and when he gets out into the parking lot, he jostles her a little in his arms.
“Wanna see something?” he asks.
“Okay.”
Eddie sets her down so she’s sitting on the trunk of the car and turns so she can better see his left arm. He tugs his sleeve up a little to give her a better view. Bailey grabs his arm in both of her small hands, making Eddie wince when she gets too close to the still-sensitive area.
“I drew that,” Bailey points out.
“You did,” Eddie says. “And this morning I got it tattooed on me.”
Bailey gasps and holds his arm even tighter.
“You did?! My drawing is your tattoo? Forever?”
Eddie can’t help but chuckle at how awed she sounds.
“Yeah, princess. Forever.” He turns to face her again and moves some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. “That’s how long I’m going to love you, too. Forever.”
“It looks cool, Daddy.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Cooler than Dinah the cat.”
Eddie laughs.
“Don’t tell Mommy.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine
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Scribbles & Doodles— Coast & Altitudes: { Meddle }
—Mafia Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
𑁍 Synopsis: The pressure of giving your husband an heir is surrounding you like a vice, amidst it Satoru quells your heart.
𑁍 Genre: SFW: domestic fluff, traditional arrange marriage, hints of yandere if you squint,
𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (2.3k)— fertility issues, meddling in-laws, angst-comfort, domestic life, talk of pregnancy and children [tell me if I missed something] Base on THIS request.
𑁍 A/N: Hi guys~ How are you? I finally managed to crawl out of my burrow, and here's a small step out of the writer's block, I hope you like it~ —Grey,
The clattering of plates and light chattering kept you on a constant edge. Gripping your utensils to hide the urge of hiding away from the weekly lunch with your in-laws. the food made by the family's chef tastes stale, almost like a powder on your tongue. It feels like you're going to have indigestion.
"Y/n, dear. How's the food to your liking?"
Minami, your mother-in-law smiled. Beside her Satoru's grandmother look at you with her stern eyes. Your eyes resisted the urge to look in your husband's way and answered as politely as you could.
"It's wonderful Mother." The honorific sounded so foreign it was almost unspeakable.
"That's good, here eat more. I can't have my beautiful daughter starve. You need to take care of your body or else how can I have grandchildren running around?" She lightly chuckled.
But your body only tensed at the sight of food on your plate that you could feel sweat starting to form on your temples despite the full-blast air conditioning system.
"Oh the two of you will make very beautiful babies I can't wait, right Y/n?" Satoru's grandmother added, but her eyes hold you in a rigid manner. "It's been a while since the two of you wed. Why am I still not seeing young ones?"
Make it stop. Their words repeated like a broken tape inside your head it's making your heart race. Their eyes are like daggers sheathed under their words. Perhaps their want for a child is genuine but they do not treat you no more than a broodmare.
"Don't start." It was a warning drawl. A large hand enveloped your cold palm, the callousness of the hand grounded you back to reality.
"Oh come on son your grandmother is right, it's been almost half a year. I still cannot see children running around. What's taking so long?" Minami sighed, and look at you for a long time. "Is it because you're too busy with work dear? You should focus on making a home than making more money you can't even spend."
His Grandmother added more salt to the wound, not giving you or Satoru a chance to speak.
"My grandson can provide for you Y/n, what more is there to busy yourself in this work you are raving about—"
"Mother, Madame I—" You breathe but your words died down at your husband's growl. A sense of relief and fear washed over you as he uttered the words you are desperately waiting to hear.
"Thank you for the meal. But you don't meddle with our marriage, it seems you didn't learn your lesson yet."
Satoru set down his utensils, leaving his food, and motioned for you to stand despite his mother's protest and grandmother's unforgiving gaze directed towards you. The meal is done. Another ruined meal with this neverending cycle that no one seems to end.
"Satoru." You tug your wrist from your husband's grip. He never stopped until both of you stand before his car. You could feel the shame of leaving abruptly devouring you. What would his mother say the next time you meet? "Satoru I..." You look at him but stopped at the grimness of his face.
His jaws clench, withholding the rage burning in his eyes. You could see the way he stare, so cold and ruthless that it was better to keep quiet or else you might aggravate him more. You hung your head low and took a step back but it only seem to make him angrier.
"Get inside." He opened the door to his car, closed it, and turned around to the driver seat. Motioning for the guard to open the gates as the two of you leave his mother's house.
You are reminded of what you are expected to fulfill as his wife.
To fulfill the duty of providing Gojo Satoru with his heirs as much as you could. The mere thought of it brings a shiver to your spine. A broodmare in simple words. No matter what you achieve it will never change the fact you need to give him children to satisfy the people around you. You desperately want that as well. A child to love, a child to take care of. A family with your husband even if this marriage in the first place was a matter of strengthening your yakuza clans rather than genuine love. You don't care because for once, you can finally have a family of your own.
You have a husband that takes care of you. A home that has the warmth you have been desperately praying for.
But it seems the heavens never liked to grant your wishes.
You watch Satoru's inked-covered back flex as he works his way around the kitchen, wearing only cotton shorts with a towel around his neck, fresh out of the shower. Unlike the morning he wears a suit and the holster of his gun to work, he wore almost nothing in the confines of your home. So trusting to show his scars and let you in his world.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. You've been married to this yakuza gang leader for almost six months. The callousness of his palm whenever his touch hovers on your skin reminded you he touches guns, not roses. His vivid tattoos scream danger. His rough kisses told you he isn't used to fragile things, he's rough and ruthless.
"C'mere, you haven't properly eaten lunch." He called, setting down a plate of grilled salmon and fried rice on the plate on the kitchen counter.
It's so strange that this ruthless man everyone fears and respect for his cruelty is the only man to treat you with genuine care. It's as if the marriage wasn't borne out of contract. You watch Satoru scoop the rice for you and pour you water and after he also made his plate but before making sure you get the larger portion of the salmon he cooked.
Or perhaps it really wasn't...
Satoru is not a saint. You can count the times you saw your husband shed blood remorselessly. But for you, the ruthless yakuza leader would peel clementines with one look from your hungry eyes. Satoru is the man that if you asked him for a marble he'd give you a diamond.
"It was negative." You started. Regretful for bringing this up when you're just enjoying each other's presence. But you were never one to hide this kind of thing from him when he has every right to know.
Satoru fell silent. He tilted his head as you slowly lean to see his reaction. He pursed his lips and continued peeling the clementines and putting them on your plate.
"Is that why you're upset enough to drown yourself with work?" Satoru effortlessly grabs your waist and put you between his open thighs, your chest pressed against his, your nose touching as he continued staring at you even at such a close distance, his gaze robbing you of precious oxygen.
You can't answer him at all. Bothered by his eyes boring into your soul, and the heat of his body leaving you flushed and squirming in his hold. It was too much to handle at once. You were opting to dive into your husband's neck, pressing yourself as close as possible as if it could help, but you didn't have the time to. He lifted your chin but never urged you to look at him when you couldn't.
Your eyes fell on the coffee that has gone cold. Satoru followed your gaze and move the mug away from your eyes until your gaze finally landed on him. There's a complicated look you cannot name whirling in Satoru's eyes that you cannot name.
"I can't have you getting sick over that baby girl." Satoru exhaled, brushing your hair out your face. Watching your lips wobble and sight off the tears in your glossy eyes. So brittle, so precious.
Pampering you with his words and touch has always been a pleasure to him. Building you up and seeing you fall apart from his touch is ecstasy for his dark heart. It's so twisted yet right at the same time knowing he's the only one you allowed into your heart to be this close.
To feel the heave of your chest against his. The way your eyes quiver under his stare. To hold your hand when your fingers start to fidget. His heart preens at the fact he's the only one who can see you like this. To have every piece of you, so close. And he would do anything to cherish you, anything. So why would his wife have such a somber face etched on her beautiful face?
"It's reasonable to question this Satoru. Everyone is asking for a child from you and me." You shake your head, still unable to meet his eye. No one really knows how your dream haunted you like a nightmare in daylight.
"I already told you, Baby. We don't need to rush. I don't want any of our family meddling with us." He sighed and paused a bit. "Can we just have time for ourselves first? I want to have you right now, just you and me Baby. I want my wife first, can we have that hmmm?" The patience his blue orbs hold is almost heartbreaking.
Satoru looks dark and serious as he waits for your answer. This time his hand brought your palm to his cheeks while the other held your back to balance you on his thighs. It's around you that his rough edges may be a little coarse but you never complained.
"If my family's opinions are straining you, I'm sorry-"
You shake your head vehemently. Cupping his cheeks and shushing him. Your head fell as beads of tears started falling. The way he is handling things is breaking your heart. It feels too reassuring. Too good that it's almost surreal. What did you do in your past life to even deserve a husband like him?
"I'm sorry too. For forcing this when I know we're not ready yet." You bit the insides of your lips. "You have nothing to be sorry for my selfishness 'Toru." You said quietly, shame creeping down your spine.
Satoru shushed you. Bringing the back of your palms to his lips. Pressing kisses all over your hand as he brushes the unshed tears from your lashes.
"I want a child with you too. I want to be parents with you. We will be, I promise you." Satoru stroked your head. "I just want you to know that I don't listen to people's opinions when it comes to you. This is our marriage Baby, and you will be my first all the time."
Satoru hates it. Hates it when you beat yourself up over uncontrollable things. Hates it when he sees you upset when he vowed to only make you happy by his side. Hates when you're the reason for his happiness but he's the cause of your distress.
No. It's not even him. It's the people, irrelevant people in your marriage around you.
"Even before I married you, I didn't think about our groups or the expectations of my family. I think of you... if you wanted to be my wife. If you wanted us to be a family." He kisses your palms. Your heart feels like being pinched by his confession. "I knew how much you wanted to build a family. And I wanted to be in that world you're going to have, with or without a child we're still family Baby, you and me." He licked his lower lips and tilted his head. It's as if he's probing what's in your mind. He gently kissed your tears away. Feeling your heart settling down with the assurance he laid for you.
When your mother gave birth to you, was she happy? Maybe, maybe not. You have always reminded her of a failed marriage, her nightmare. Perhaps, that's why she is desperate to keep you out of her life. Away from her, and her family.
Your eyes landed on a photo frame on your working desk. A boy and a girl, somewhere around six years old sporting the same hair as you, but their eyes are shining, filled with innocence and life. You didn't know that your family has a history of twins.
"A twins huh?" You imagined a young boy and girl with Satoru's eyes and your hair. That would be perfect.
"Madame?" Miwa interrupted your train of thought. "The Boss is here to pick you up from work."
"Already?" You picked up your bag and rushed to the elevator.
Miwa was quick to follow. You can't be more thankful for the witty and efficient girl Satoru arranged for you as your assistant.
"Been waiting for you." Satoru greeted you with his signature boyish grin, leaning on his Ducati with a helmet on his arm. His suit is replaced with an all black rider outfit.
You notice he was alone in the basement. Miwa also offered to take your bag and left the two of you alone. Satoru strode to you, adjusting the helmet on your head, taking off his biker's jacket, and wrapping it around your torso. That leaves him with his black tee shirt, hugging your husband's body like a sleeve exposing his beautiful tattoos.
"Is this safe?" You breathe.
Satoru just smirked and adjusted his gloves, helping you get on the back of his big bike as he revs up the engine, tucking the stand back.
"You just hold on to me and don't ever let go. Got it, Baby?" The engine sound made him lean over your ear and brought your hands to wrap around his waist. "Got it?"
You nodded and sigh, placing your cheek on Satoru's back. Your grip around Satoru tighten as he tore through the busy night road of Tokyo, letting the wild sound of his bike and the wind drown everything around but your body pressed close to his hot back.
Perhaps... A little more time, a time just for the two of you doesn't sound so bad after all.
—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld
#[—coast & altitudes]#mafia gojo x reader#jjk mafia au#jjk mafia gojo#jjk mafia gojo fluff#jjk married gojo fluff#jjk gojo x reader#gojo satoru x wife#gojo x y/n#mafia gojo yandere#mafia gojo fluff#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#married gojo fluff#married gojo angst#husband gojo x wife reader#greycaelum#yandere gojo x reader#yandere mafia#yandere gojo
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Omg look vampire ref(simplified but it's alive) with all little funny notes that you can find interesting
And some doodles of them too. I keep forgetting to add bells on their wrists and add those bat's wings on their shoulders(yeah forgetting the details of my own designs woohoo let's go) but they're still pretty<3
#biting the hand that feeds au#bhtf au#bhtf sundrop#bhtf moondrop#my art#vampire au#moondrop#fnaf moon#fnaf moondrop#moon#moondrop fnaf#moon fnaf#sundrop fnaf#fnaf sundrop#sundrop#fnaf sun#sun fnaf#vampire sundrop#vampire moondrop#whores<3#missed them
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for your fall prompts! what about “why are your hands so cold?” with the love of my life, steve harrington?
autumn, my love! ty for requesting! i hope you like it!! — steve makes fun of your cold hands but only as an excuse to hold them (mutual pining, friends to lovers, 2k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Family Video always smells like Robin’s morning coffee, crisp autumn air, and warm nostalgia this time of year. It’s quiet and homey and liminal — as orange as early autumn itself.
The empty store is filled with the sound of your rushed scribbling as you jot down a load of cursive nothingness in your journal. Your hand smears the wet ink across the page. It stains the paper as much as the side of your wrist.
Your other hand is curled into a fist to prop up your lolling head. Expelling your racing thoughts into the leather-back book is the only thing keeping you awake.
The stale air glows suddenly with a newfound life when a cozier, more familiar scent engulfs you — like pine, musk, and vanilla. You feel Steve’s visceral warmth surrounding you. Before you can blush about the unexpected proximity, he snatches your journal out from under you.
“Hey!” you shout before you mean to, perhaps the loudest he’s ever heard you.
“What’s this?” this beautiful boy muses, honey eyes sparkling. The dull store blooms with its radiance. You can’t believe he’s looking at you with it and with his rosy, lopsided grin.
“Give it back,” you demand, quieter now and smiling wider.
Steve meets your playfully arched brow with a sunny grin. He thumbs through your journal with golden hands from a leftover summer tan. His biceps are all but bursting from his vest and too-tight polo.
“Keith said you’re not allowed to write in your diary on the clock, you know?” he reminds with a feigned seriousness, scrunching his nose when his twinkling eyes flit back to yours.
Keith did actually say that. A few days ago now. He also said he’d dock your pay if he caught you doing it again, the absolute asshole.
“It’s not a diary!” you argue with a beam on your face.
You briefly wonder if you’re smiling a little too wide, and the fleeting thought makes the bright expression flicker.
You cross your arms over your chest and pretend to be more serious. Something about Steve stirs a deep sensuality in you, though — like a wolf innately drawn to a full moon. The corners of your lips quirk with an emotion you couldn’t conceal if you tried.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he singsongs with raised brows.
Strands of honey hair hang over his wrinkled forehead when he turns to the book in his hands. He swipes his fingers through them to push them back again, but they fall into place a second later.
You’re too enamored by the boy in front of you to stop him when he starts flipping through your notebook. You know he knows it isn’t a diary. You also know he wouldn’t be going through it if it were. He’s too nice for that. Too sweet on you, anyway.
He finds a random page and lingers there. His eyes flit over every inch of the ink you’ve scribbled inside — miscellaneous lists, doodles, and song lyrics. He figures it must be the music you’re humming all the time, tunes you can’t get out of your head.
Every time I see you, all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves of your hair, the words read in clumsy cursive. And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight. The beating of my heart is a drum, and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like you—
Steve’s heart flutters. He feels like a kid again. His stomach swirls with the thought that you might’ve been thinking about him in between the lyrics. It’s as unlikely as it is childish. He knows this, so he frowns.
“Oh,” he monotones playfully, brows pinching and lips jutting. “That’s boring.”
“Exactly. So give it back—” You reach for the book, but Steve’s too quick. He jerks it out of your reach and leaves your hand grabbing at air.
“Ooh, sorry, sunshine,” Steve lilts. “Looks like you’re not tall enough for this ride.”
Your cheeks speckle with heat. You wonder if he’s flirting or if he’s just being friendly, and you’re too in love to know the difference. Your terribly hidden smile is wide and impossibly giddy, anyway.
“Steve,” you bite, though it comes out much happier than you intended it to. “Give it back.”
He purses his lips to the side and furrows his brows. “Hmm… No.”
Your smile broadens, and your eyes widen at his blatant defiance. You giggle like a child as you walk the short distance towards him. “Give it back,” you laugh and stand on the tips of your toes in front of him.
He chuckles boyishly in return and lifts it further out of your reach.
You jump slightly off the ground to grab it. You fail the first time and try harder the second. You just narrowly miss it. The tips of your fingers brush his wrist as your torso presses too intently against his ribcage.
Your chest scrapes his vest and jostles his Hi, I’m Steve name tag. You stumble back in mortification.
With a red-hot face and a gaping gaze, you try to stammer out an apology. Nothing comes out. Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish as you pull the hem of your sweater down from where it had ridden up.
Steve has his own look of bewilderment. His honey eyes are aglow with something short of amusement. You’re briefly worried he’s about to mock you until he starts to laugh. “Why are your hands so cold?” he wonders with squinted eyes.
Your stutter hasn’t quite left you. “I— I don’t know. My hands are always cold.”
You curl your fists into the sleeves of your sweater on instinct. If only to hide how they shake for him.
“But that’s like… ice cold,” Steve insists, crooked smile widening. “Like, we live in Antarctica cold.”
Less embarrassed and more playful, you roll your eyes and turn away from him. “Okay…” you mumble under your breath as you sit back down in your chair. Steve can’t stand you being too far away, so he follows you.
“Like, you just got done shoveling snow with your bare hands cold. Like—”
“I get it, Steve. I’m a freak of nature,” you concede, spinning in your swivel chair to face him again.
He’s much closer than you expect him to be. His long legs are all but inches from your knees as he stands before you. You flush but smirk up at him in attempts to keep cool about how fervently he makes you tremble.
“I’m just teasing,” he assures with a pretty laugh.
You already knew that, though. He’s too kind to be mean. He’s a dumbass sometimes, but he always means well.
“Here, look,” he starts, laying your journal back on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”
Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”
You find out a second later when he turns back to you and takes your hands in his larger ones.
His fingers are long and golden as they curl around your knuckles. His palms aren’t soft, but they aren’t rough either — like they’ve been used, but not too ardently. And he’s warm. He’s oh, so warm.
You tense at the sudden action but relax a second later, melting into him like you’ve always been destined to.
“Oh…”
“Right?” Steve nods with raised brows and quirked lips. “I’m practically a space heater.”
Your heart’s fluttering too aggressively to stutter out an intelligible sentence, so you just nod back at him. “Yeah…”
It makes a little too much sense that the ray of sunlight that always calls you Sunshine feels so golden warm.
Steve gives your hands a squeeze. “See? You’re getting warmer already.”
He doesn’t know it’s because you’re blushing so intensely you feel like your entire body has been set on fire. You’re happy to let him keep on not knowing.
“Thanks, Stevie…” you murmur quietly, gaze trained on your entwined hands.
“Stevie?” he chuckles.
Your eyes dart up to his sparkling ones, and you freeze. You hadn’t meant to call him that. That nickname was usually reserved for your too-elaborate daydreams. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. It just— It just slipped. I’m sorry.”
“No. No, it’s okay,” Steve assures with the shake of his head, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I liked it.”
You exhale a nervous laugh through your nose, ducking your gaze away from his. “You always hate when Robin calls you that…”
“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s Robin.”
Your laugh is more genuine this time.
“And it sounds a lot prettier when you say it, anyway.”
He must notice how hard he’s making you blush with how warm your hands have gotten — from frozen solid to fiery hot. But he holds them, anyway. Even when they get all clammy. You want it to mean more than it probably does.
“Yeah?” you press, peering up at him through your lashes.
“Yeah,” he nods like it’s obvious, then gets as sheepish as you a moment later. He tries to act cool through his shyness, tilting his head and shrugging as he smirks. “How about you call me that tonight?”
Your eyes go wide at the unintended insinuation.
His gape matches your own when his own words dawn on him. “I meant at dinner!” he follows quickly. “At Enzo’s. Seven o’clock. You know, if— if you wanna go with me or whatever.”
You do. Most desperately so. In fact, you’re pretty sure you dreamt about it one time. Maybe you’ll tell him that if you’re brave enough — over pasta and breadsticks.
“I don’t have a car,” you confess with a forced laugh. “Or a pretty dress…”
“I can pick you up!” Steve assures immediately, then grows visibly shier. He shifts his weight on his feet but doesn’t try to let go of your hands. It feels too right to hold them. “And, you know, I’m sure you’ll look nice in whatever you decide to wear, sunshine.”
You purse your lips to the side as you nod, lest your beam blinds him and makes your cheeks burst.
“Okay… Enzo’s. Seven o’clock,” you repeat quietly.
“I pick you up,” he says, squeezing your hands.
You squeeze him back. “You pick me up.”
“And we spend an hour eating breadsticks and making fun of all the wine snobs.”
The imagery makes your stomach swirl, a dream so real you can taste it — red wine and garlic and cherry chapstick.
“Sounds like a plan,” you affirm with a sheepish giggle.
He nods, having no idea he’s grinning like a lovesick idiot down at you. “Cool.”
“Cool,” you repeat.
You watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. For a fleeting moment, you think he might kiss you. You want him to kiss you. You might melt at his feet if he did, but you need it like you need air.
Ding!
The door chimes at the front of the store.
Autumn air rushes in, leaving you bitterly cold all over again. Or maybe that’s just because Steve’s stepping away from you. Both of you know that Keith will have a fit if a customer complains about PDA.
“Hi! Welcome in! Can I help you find anything?” Steve greets as kindly as always, smiling just the same.
He only says it because he has to say it. He’s secretly hoping for a negative response, just so he can keep on talking to you.
The man in big work boots and a thick canvas jacket squints around the store. He rubs his scruffy face with a hardened hand and turns to Steve. “Yeah, actually,” he says in a gruff, gravely voice. “I was looking for this movie for my wife. It’s her birthday and…”
He rambles on about her favorite movie, a cartoon from her childhood he’s gone two towns over to find. It’s sweet enough to give you butterflies, though it doesn’t match the zoo that erupts in your stomach when Steve turns to look at you again.
He departs from you with a honey gaze. You smile back at him as he goes, watching him intently as he helps the customer with a pretty pink smile.
Your hands are cold again. So much that they ache with you curl them into fists.
You can’t wait for Steve to hold you again tonight. Over a white-clothed table, warm yellow candlelight, and wine-slicked lips.
Enzo’s. Seven o’clock.
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#stevie dabble#st drabbles#event: fictober!
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞
An unplanned emergency while out with Bucky for the day left you between a posturing alpha who bared his teeth — a flash of a warning to any bypasser that dared venture too close — and the experience of your first heat with the mafia boss.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
♕ Alpha!Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Omega!F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
♕ 2.0k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
♕ Fluff, omegaverse, unspecified age gap
჻჻჻ SMUT: Car sex, public sex, gunplay, clitplay, thigh riding
჻჻჻ KINKS: Praise, degradation, daddy, alpha
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔
♕ Well, let it be known that when I try something new, I never half-ass it. My first ever omegaverse fic, and my first gunplay.
♕ I have to yell and preach to the rooftops just how helpful @smutconnoisseur and Amber were on helping me with the lore and dynamics of this, thank you both so much.
♕ Welcome to Alpha and Bunny.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔
♕ Quick Musical Doodles (Slowed) by JK Beats
♕ 7 rings by Ariana Grande
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂
♕ @sgt-seabass
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔
♕ @allcapsbingo 𝗚𝟯 — Older Alpha / Younger Omega
— Masterlist
♕ @mcukinkbingo 𝗢𝟱 — Age Difference
— Masterlist
𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
It was a rare occurrence – a day out with your alpha, especially due to his extensively booked itinerary. Nonetheless, you were giddy with excitement as you walked next to him, holding his hand and swinging it in uncontainable glee; black ink contrasted like a shadow over the blank canvas of your own hand, untouched.
Just how he liked it.
“Where are you taking me today, honey?” Bucky asked, and the genuine interest in his tone made your heart soar.
You hummed and skipped a little, and he looked at you, a fond smile teasing the corner of his lips. “I think–I think we’ll go…” Listing off the many shops you had planned on visiting, each one made Bucky’s smile grow wider.
“You sure know what you want, Bunny, huh?” His tone was teasing, and you nodded. “Good girl.”
The stores passed in a blur – each more expensive than the last, but Bucky encouraged you, swiping his card only after he made sure you had got all of what you wanted. It had taken a long while to get used to the lifestyle, spending so frivolously after working back to back shifts just to make ends meet was a huge adjustment.
You never thought you would have fallen for an older alpha, but Bucky had been a surprise, as you were to him.
Bucky only took it in his stride. You were envious of his ability to adapt, but he never led you astray, not since you had found one another. His sense of control and dominance evident in his hardened stare and aged wisdom.
As you ventured from store to store, holding Bucky’s hand and allowing your wrists to brush against each other, you noticed that passersby kept sending you furtive glances or cleared from your path, and it made you anxious. You thought back to that morning as you got ready – Bucky was at his dresser, putting on his watch and rings, when you felt feverish, a small surge of heat that prickled over your skin.
Something didn’t feel right – not now, as you walked next to Bucky, and stepped closer to him.
“Bunny?” Bucky asked quietly, his hand releasing yours so he could place it on the small of your back. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
You blinked. “I- Um, nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Liar, your instincts screamed. Bucky only looked at you through his sunglasses, face void of expression. “Nothing is wrong, I promise.”
“Okay,” Bucky said slowly, and he guided you into the next store, his hand still on your back and presence looming. He was standing much closer as you browsed the shelves, and you glanced over your shoulder to ask him something when his nostrils flared.
“What do you think of this–?” You held up the necklace that had caught your attention – the diamonds glittering in the bright lights overhead. Sweat started to bead over the back of your neck and you made a point to ask Bucky to stop for ice cream, or something cool after you left this boutique.
Bucky smiled tensely, his nostrils still flared. “It’s beautiful, baby–just what my ‘mega needs, yeah?”
The words, innocent and innocuous in their delivery, made you freeze. You blinked owlishly, unable to move as another surge of that feverish heat flooded you.
He reached over and gently plucked it from your hands. There wasn’t a concerned glint in his eyes, rather, they had dilated and left a slim ring of blue where there would have been an ocean. “Let’s move on, Bunny, c’mon.”
“But–”
“Enough,” Bucky growled, the sound low in his throat. You whimpered and Bucky grabbed your hand, kissing your palm. “You feeling okay, baby?”
It was like he knew, but he was choosing to coax it out of you rather than demand it. The dynamic of an alpha and omega was certainly new to you – you had no idea whether he could sense the feverish prickle over your skin, or the way the boutique had suddenly turned into a sauna.
“I- I don’t know,” you whispered. Bucky’s nostrils flared again. “Why do you keep scent-”
“We need to go.” The command was sudden and fierce, the growl of it low in your gut and you found yourself stepping closer to his body. His arms wrapped around you, and you realised he seemed to grow bigger, more brooding and volatile in his scent.
The scent was strongest at his neck and you nuzzled closer, when it hit you. A blinding fever, scorching in its intensity, settled over you like a blanket and you whined.
“Move.” Bucky pulled you along, leaving the necklace long abandoned as he stalked to the door. A clerk came rushing over and Bucky growled low in his throat, the sound made you tilt your head back to expose your throat, but he grasped the back of your neck and forced your head back down. “Easy, Bunny,” he murmured as the clerk neared.
“Sir, is everything-”
“Yes, thank you,” Bucky snapped, his hands still all over you as he forced you out of the store and into the street. Much quieter, he whispered to you softly, “Alpha’s here, Bunny, it’s alright.”
The people scattered away from the two of you and stared as you panted and whined quietly, still clinging to Bucky’s chest while he walked you to a car that’s tires squealed as it pulled up to the curb. “Get in,” Bucky ordered just as the back door swung open automatically. When had he called for it–?
You clumsily slipped onto the back seat, blissfully ignorant of the way Bucky growled and snapped at the remaining spectators while he threw your bags into the trunk, before he followed behind you. The door slammed with the force he exerted. “Back home. Now,” he barked, and the car peeled away – you couldn’t even see who the driver was.
“Alpha,” you rasped, your hips twitched as you tried to sit still and stop squirming. “What–? I need-”
“Daddy knows, Bunny–breathe for me,” Bucky soothed, and you took a deep breath. “That’s it, good girl; doin’ so good for alpha. There’s a good girl.” You whined breathlessly and watched as Bucky shifted slightly, his back flush with the seat. “C’mere, pup. Come sit in daddy’s lap.”
You scrambled from beside Bucky to sit in his lap, your thighs on the outside of his – pressed slacks and tidiness forgotten as you mindlessly rubbed your clothed heat over them. Instinct was screaming at you to go faster, to beg for something, but you didn’t understand. “What’s happening?” you managed to gasp around a hiccuped sob.
“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky cooed. His right hand went to your hip to coax your rhythm, and his left rested over the back of your neck, almost cupping it. “You’re goin’ into heat, sweetheart. You’ve not had one with me yet, remember? Think for me, go on.”
Sifting through memories whilst amongst the desperation for something you didn’t understand wasn’t something you could do, and you whimpered, pawing and grabbing at his shoulders before forcing your head close to his neck; gulping at the air like a starved woman for his scent of woodsmoke, whiskey, and leather.
Bucky’s hand tightened on the back of your neck and you exhaled, the pressure seeming to alleviate all control you had over your limbs. “Answer me, Bunny–think for me. Think for daddy, I know it’s hard.”
“Dun’ know, alpha,” you whispered, fisting his shirt in your hands. “It hurts, please-”
“What hurts, honey?” Bucky asked, the hand on your hip squeezing. “Tell alpha, baby.”
You gulped and rubbed your clothed cunt over his slacks faster and harder, desperate for friction. To your shock, his thighs felt wet and you pulled back to glance down, only to find the seat and thighs of his slacks soaked with- “That’s all you, Bunny. You that wet for daddy, huh? That pussy aching to be filled?”
“Oh, fuck,” you breathed, and you moved your hips faster. “Alpha, please, I don’t know-”
“That’s alright, pup.” Bucky pulled you closer by the back of your neck, his lips dancing over the skin of your neck before he breathed heavily into your ear. “Get off on daddy’s thighs like a whore, then you can think–so fuckin’ desperate and it’s gorgeous, pet.”
Fire burned through your veins and you sobbed, chasing a high you’d never felt before. It was true, this was your first heat with an alpha, and while you had experienced a heat on your own, it was incomparable to the pleasure and pain of what was happening now.
“So fuckin’ pretty, ‘mega, using me. Go faster, you can take it, honey,” Bucky purred, both hands on your hips now. His grip was tight and unrelenting in its pace as he helped you grind over his lap. “I want you to make a mess, pup.”
Your hands slipped from his shoulders to his chest, and your fingers brushed over the straps of his concealed shoulder holsters – a thrum of danger joined the throbbing in your cunt at the implication of those handguns used otherwise. “Daddy…”
“You want me to fuck you with my gun, Bunny? That it?” Bucky prompted, a wolfish smirk showing his canines. “Force it into your pretty pussy like it’s my cock–make you take it?”
“Please!” Your hips moved faster as your climax began to crest, the pleasure blinding.
“Oh, I will, pet. Daddy will make you take more than you can handle, that pretty pussy will be begging for more,” he promised, and you whimpered. “Now, alpha needs you to cum. Do you think you can do that, pup? Make daddy proud?”
Words failed you and you nodded fervently, desperate for the release. Suddenly, Bucky’s right hand left your hip and pulled out one of his twin handguns. “I think you can make alpha proud, Bunny.”
The muzzle of the gun travelled from your collarbone down your chest, between your breasts. “This turns you on, doesn't it? Daddy usin’ his guns on you.” He clicked his tongue when you moaned. “You like the danger, pretty whore." He forced it through the waistband of your panties and the cold metal of the sights brushed against your slick lips.
“Daddy, daddy, please–wanna cum,” you moaned, the last syllable ending with a whine.
“I will make you cum, Bunny, don’t you worry ‘bout that. And you know what’ll happen when we get home?” The words startled you; you forgot you were in a moving vehicle, Bucky’s gun between your legs. “You’re gonna present for your alpha, and I’m gonna fuck and knot you. Would you like that?”
“Yesyesyes,” you chanted, shuddering. “‘M close!”
“So pretty, so sweet,” he mused, his hand squeezing the back of your neck with a hum. The grip sent you lax and you slumped a little in his hold. “This is only a taste for what I’m gonna do to you, shlyukha.” The gun pressed hard into your clit, and you shivered. “Cum for me, Bunny. Soak daddy.”
Your back arched and you howled to the roof of the car, shaking violently through the waves of release that pulled you under. Through the dull roar of blood in your ears, you could hear Bucky’s soothing praises.
“There’s a good lil’ ‘mega for me, good fuckin’ girl,” he whispered, tucking your face into his neck where his scent was even stronger than before. “So good for me, takin’ it so well, baby.”
Whining pitifully, you squirmed closer, your chest flush with his as you heaved for breath. “Alpha, alpha,” you murmured.
“I know, pup. I know, you did so good f’me,” he praised, his hand tight on your neck again. “When we get home, alpha’ll take care a’you, alright? Love on you–got everythin’ ready for this moment, sweetheart.”
You nodded weakly and squirmed in his lap again, wanting to become one with your alpha. “Wan’ more,” you tried, but Bucky hushed you.
“You’ll get more, pup,” he promised as the car took a sharp turn. “We’re almost there, then daddy’ll give you his knot, yeah? You want that?”
“Mhm,” you hummed. “Wan’ that, alpha.” The heat haze settled heavily over you – it was like you had too much to drink and all of your thoughts were muddled and slow, centred on one thing, and one thing only: getting your alpha’s knot. “Alpha- Daddy, did I do good?” you slurred, burrowing closer.
“You were such a good girl for me, such a good pet,” Bucky whispered, and he kissed your sweaty temple.
The affection made you purr quietly, and Bucky growled lowly in response, the deep rumble a soothing balm to the ache that had started between your thighs again. Not long now, you managed to think as you scented the air, the heavy scent of slick and sweat made your mouth water.
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#allcapsbingo2023#rookthorne's works
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https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/741884957599973376/httpswwwtumblrcomeldritch-spouse741700018004?source=share
I need to know in explicit detail the first time breg allowed this human to collect samples. Also need to know the embarrassing situations they are put in that their coworkers judge them
I honestly love this so much I'm kicking my feet and giggling ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
[Fem reader. I kind of rushed this. Doodle at the end.]
TW: Heavy themes of abuse (including mentions of noncon, death and captivity); Dubious consent moments.
" Listen, we just need you to get in there. "
You blink. " ... This can't be serious. Is this a joke? "
The half-fiend woman, superior to you in professional rank, drags a hand across her blonde locks and grimaces. " Look, I know it sounds bad- "
" Of course it does! This was nowhere in the job description- "
Not that the job description was very uh, descriptive, anyway. But any straw will do, anything to cling to a modicum of your dignity as you get told what your next task will be.
She seems to switch through a few different corporate tactics to ease the blow. " Listen, please. We are short-staffed at the moment, and this has been affecting production a lot more than you can imagine. Specimen 197 is a big bread-winner here and we all know he's uncooperative with machinery, going as far as to ruin it constantly, which leads to more expenses- "
She's explaining this to you like you're a particularly slow toddler and you're not amused.
" We have also noted that M197 is clearly attached to you and a bond has been formed, which is why your presence is requested in certain situations, to reduce his stress levels during tasks. This... Is another one of those tasks. We just need you to get a few samples- " She points at the two canisters next to her. " And you can think of it as a way to improve your bond with the specimen even. "
" Ma'am, he's entering a rut. " You pause. " You want me to walk into a male breeder's cell while he's rutting and engage sexually with him? "
She gulps. " For- For strictly professional purposes- "
" I'm not doing this. "
...
" There's a significant monetary bonus if you manage to do it. "
A long, shameful, disgustingly filthy moment of silence unfolds where you internally debate how far you're willing to go for some much needed money.
Too far, apparently.
" ... I'll do it. "
" Great, that's wonderful, we- "
" No cameras in the room. "
She flinches. " But then how are we supposed to know if you're in danger? "
" No cameras, please. "
If you die you die. You don't want footage of you being possibly mauled by a breeder out there...
A begrudging glance is cast towards the canisters sitting innocently on the table.
Grabbing them, you prepare for the shitshow you signed yourself into.
We have him tied up, the techs had informed you, it'll make things easier.
Just hearing them gives you headaches.
Yes, of course, because forcibly restraining the already volatile lifeform will make it cease being hostile. Logical.
A long-suffering sigh exits your lips when you input the code to open 197's cell. It's a code you know by heart now. If not from the regular standard visits, then from the hurried string of numbers your coworkers would scream at you over the radio before getting launched around by a monster several times their size and weight.
It's hard to forget something like that. There are just some faces you never see again.
As soon as the heavily reinforced door hisses open, you're greeted by an immediate build-up of a snarl. As scary as the sound was when you first heart it, and continues to be on an instinctual level, you understand now that it's mostly born out of fear.
Nothing good ever happens when 197 is cuffed and he's right to be frightened.
The moment you step into view and the door slams shut behind you however, he visibly seems to shift gear instantly.
Sitting on the rather uncomfortable tiled ground, specimen 197 has his ankles spread and cuffed to the ground, his wrists joined behind him and his neck nearly choked to the wall. A muzzle prevents the breeder's jaw from elongating as it tends to do when he's threatened. His tail is likewise restrained in two areas. Those cuffs are the best things modern technology can offer, you haven't heard of a single solid monster type that can shatter them. They're likely also tampered with by some more magically-inclined individuals, but you've never been one to dabble in that.
He exhibits the signs you'd expect from any male entering a rut. Excessive sweating, goosebumps, a faster breathing rate, tension, restlessness and a dilated, humid slit. His skin flickers from time to time, signals somewhere between aggression and courtship displays. You would never have associated heat cycles with torture before starting your work here, but seeing the way these monsters are chemically forced into hypersexual, unhealthily exacerbated heats has shown you just how cruelly this biological process can be exploited.
Sometimes they die. A hormonal, frenzied, artificially accelerated metabolism like this is powerful, but it's also very fragile, in a way. Either they're able to maintain their required ridiculous nutrient intake, find a way to preserve as much energy as possible, or simply panic and end up dying from a mixture of stress and lack of sustenance.
Another sigh escapes your lips, you try to clear your head by placing the canisters on the ground.
The breeder in question, who was once nearly pitch black in his effort to intimidate the perceived threat, is now snow white, having registered you as his favorite, the "nice one". 197 shrinks in himself, then begins a litany of keening whines interspersed with specific chirps.
It might be a plea for attention from an already hormone-fried brain, it might also just be a desperate request to be released from his binds.
You're no paragon of morality, but unlike your coworkers, you understand that building a bond with anyone requires depositing some trust in them. And, even if 197 is rutting, you can only continue to build a connection with him if he has a modicum of comfort in this situation. Which is why you steel yourself before moving closer to the specimen in question and inputting the specific combination to unlock all of his cuffs.
The process is timed, giving workers about five or so minutes to leave the cell before the cuffs drop and the monster is freed. It prevents casualties, naturally.
197 tries to thump his tail in appreciation when he realizes what you're doing, quietly rumbling and trying to lean into the small brushes of your fingers as you work.
" There big guy, just give it a second... " You take a few steps back while you wait.
It feels like a small eternity before the restraints begin falling off one by one. First the tail ones, then the muzzle, the neck, the wrists... And the ankles. On that last click, the breeder shrugs everything away and stretches as he stands.
You've studied these monsters and their mannerisms, he's not stretching just to soothe his joints, he's displaying. The exaggerated curve of that spine says it all, you know exactly what reaction he's after. Though, already riled up as he is, you don't think it's a good idea to respond.
In a second, he's closed the distance between the two of you, this near suffocating hovering over your front, hands and arms twitching with the urge to touch you. 197 is not good with boundaries, which was very surprising to you, considering he absolutely detests it when 99% of people touch him.
The 1% being you.
He waits, visibly pained, for the signal.
" You can touch me now. "
And like a sudden wave, 197 nearly crashes onto you, his comparatively massive pale body blanketing over yours as his arms cage your upper body, lifting it along with him. You squealed the first few times, now you know to stay mostly still and lean to the right so he can shove his face in the crook of your neck without bonking his head against yours. Painful.
He takes a couple deep, shameless inhales of your scent. And, if you had to guess, you're probably a bit sweaty from anxiety. Not that he seems to care, 197 actually appears to slow down a little, enjoying the closeness and now familiar odor you possess. His tail coils around your legs and you pat his back when the telltale chirps and trills of elation make it past his throat.
" Yeah, I missed you too buddy. Take a breather. "
This close to the male, you have absolutely no choice but to drown in his musk. 197 can't help it, he's ruttting after all, those pheromones have to come out. Fortunately, as a human, you're not affected by them, though some of your monster coworkers have to wear specific masks when they enter rutting breeder cells. To you, it's just vaguely unpleasant and heavy.
197 would usually give you a bit of room by now, but he doesn't seem interested in that, instead shifting you around so he can smell other parts of your figure, particularly your hair. Your face warms from his excessive body heat and the sensation of being corralled, your protests silenced when a long blue muscle dips to trail from the base of your neck to your jaw and up the side of your face. The movement is quick, and your attempt to reflexively lean away is met with a tighter grasp as he repeats it.
197 has a habit of dulling his teeth to look more humanoid for your comfort, but not today, in the state he is, he likely forgot that detail altogether. This unfortunately means that you feel the scrape of those pointed daggers every time he amorously samples your skin.
" Alright okay, that's enough- "
You butt in when it feels like he's getting a bit too riled up too fast. It's not exactly counter-productive to your task, but letting him get more and more control over the situation will make it difficult to get the samples later. You can't wrangle a breeder in the throes of their rut, you have to do things before that critical stage.
However, the specimen isn't interested in listening to anything you have to say, responding instead to your tone with his own whine and starting to tug at your uniform. That does it. Thoroughly soaked in his drool, you grab onto the breeder's forearms hard.
" 197! " It's not a tone you like to use with any of the breeders here.
He eventually snaps out of his little trance, gulping, steadying himself before frowning and giving you the space you want.
In this barely minute-long episode, 197 has already kicked into high-gear. Breathing accelerated again, open-mouth panting, excessive drool production, somewhat puffed figure and the tips of his twin cocks already poking out of a pelvic pouch that can barely hold them back. He seems to shiver in his own overwhelming arousal, and though this species is known for having its eyes shielded behind a layer of skin on the face, you know he's fixed on you like a famished animal.
Although your cheeks are moments from setting aflame, this isn't exactly a new sight for you. 197 has gotten aroused in your vicinity several times, you've actually lost count. It'd be nonsensical of you to get irritated over such, given that these males are forced into hypersexuality by the concoctions introduced in their organisms. That paired with his fondness for you probably makes it hard for 197 to not get erections constantly. A hug can set him off, even simple closure paired with your scent is enough to do it.
Well. No time to waste.
While he's mildly disoriented, you grab one of the canisters and move towards a corner of the room with a seemingly randomly arranged pile of fabrics. This, as confusing as it may be to some, is a breeder's nest. And in this species of monsters, the males tend to be the ones who arrange spaces for coupling. 197 has expressed clear discontentment with the fabrics given to him during times of rut to fulfill his instinctual needs, but no one here is ever acting with the specimen's best interests in mind. Besides, he piped down when one of the techs had the bright idea of giving him a jacket you forgot in the workplace. It's right there in fact, the gray hue contrating with a mostly white and pale color scheme.
The nest itself is big, if it fits 197 then it definitely fits you too. And, knowing exactly what you're doing, you let him observe you take a step into it and sit down on the middle, empty canister beside you.
Oh boy.
You can practically hear the popcorn crackles in his brain.
The monster trills loudly, proudly, your supposed acceptance of what have amounted to months of unsubtle courtship from his part being finally rewarded. It's a dangerous moment, you're perfectly aware of such, but it's also necessary to get this over with.
197 drops to a creepily nimble crawl across the floor, rapidly posing over your seated form with blue-tinted cheeks and rabid need. Before you can get so much as a word in, he's dropping some of his weight on you, showering you in hasty licks and clumsy kisses again, this time unable to help himself from nipping at your clothes. The coverings visibly bother him, and the male growls quietly before his instincts tug at him again and he's trying to slot himself between your clothed legs. It takes some yelping, and fussy movement from his part, but you eventually rationalize that stressing him out can lead to a violent response right now.
Might as well let him get away with some embarrassing acts.
Hormone-muddled as he is, 197 has only enough of a mind to hold onto you and press two hot lengths against the front of your body. He's already full-mast, the heat and weight of those things dragging across you when he automatically moves his hips is utterly filthy. He groans, probably the first kind of decent friction he's been getting since he entered this phase of his cycle, the softness and smell of his favorite human getting the monster to leak already, lost in his desperate search for a modicum of relief. As gross and ridiculous as it is, at least he's not tugging at your clothes yet.
You can sense his frustration, the frantic way 197 mechanically bucks against you, the pressure he puts in every thrust, the way his claws puncture into your lab coat and he whines low, this noise that turns into a pleased sort of snarl. Overwhelmed, you shiver beneath his figure, glad there are no cameras to see you fluster and shamefully let a rutting monster grind at you.
You dare say you can get into this.
There's something so appealing about having a monster yearn for you so madly that he's driven to this senseless and primitive display, that even so much as humping you could have them blissed out. Your legs quake around his and you feel your pussy throb in response to the muted friction from his lightly barbed cocks. It's not the first time you've wondered about how it would feel... You've always been a monsterfucker at heart, and 197 is a brutally gorgeous specimen. He's always imploring for even a single touch from you, if you spread yourself out you have absolutely no doubt he would ram those alarming inches into you like a wild beast.
Yeah, maybe your coworkers would call you a sickfuck, but it's not like anyone who works here is moderately normal...
It's a secret. One that you're vaguely paranoid might not be so secret anymore, now that you've been entrusted with this.
In your horny little stupor, you make the critical mistake of forgetting that breeders quickly detect arousal in others. And you are probably making a wet spot in your pants as of now.
With a sudden snort of an inhale, he rises like a man possessed to start ripping at the sides of your lab coat, forcefully trying to rip it off even as he's unable to stop rocking his hips. He knows how to unbutton things just fine, but you bet he can't be fucked to think much in this state.
" Hey- Hey, easy, slow down. " You grab onto his wrists, being ignored.
Okay. Time to think this out while you still can. He's going to rip through your clothes if you let him, and that's not just needless damage, it'll put him in control. But being aggressive about getting him to stop isn't ideal with this type of monster, you need something that distracts him too much to realize he's not exactly holding the leash here. Eventually, an idea graces your mind, though it makes you grimace a little.
Already blazing with shame, you carefully edge a hand between you and, with some hesitation, grab one of the twin members pushed against you.
Instant reaction.
The monster halts, as desired, and looks at you almost oddly, but hopefully. The trick is not giving him enough time to think, so you quickly get a feel for what you're working with, and start stroking him generously.
It's not the frenzied, rushed jerking he inflicts on himself when his own libido becomes bothersome, the fisting of a large hand with little focus and care. You handle him as pleasurably as you can manage, using both hands on him and attentively reading his face. 197 pants openly again, glancing vapidly at your small hands while they work him and he fucks into the motions, strings of thick drool falling from his teeth.
" Good...? Yeah? " You ask, gulping.
He falters and gasps, trying to articulate something. " Please. " Gets dragged out, his dick pulsing in your grasp.
You don't quite know what he's begging for, but you assume he's enjoying himself. Watching the neglected length bob uselessly, you take the opportunity to remove your own lab coat, switching hands quickly when necessary. The shirt comes off too, leaving you in your bra and pants.
By the time you glance back at him, the breeder's skin has shifted entirely to black, and he's hypnotized by the new parts of your body revealed to him, the mounds on your chest breeder females don't have but that he somehow finds pleasing to the eye regardless.
You make a lifting motion, trying to get his attention. " Knees. Come on, knees. Let me show you something. "
It takes a hot second, but he computes the request and does as told out of genuine curiosity. You're about to show an already decidedly horny monster the wonders of oral sex, which is likely not the brightest of ideas, but no one's here to judge your poor decisions.
197's girths hover far too close to your face while he waits a tad impatiently. Studying the things you'll be pleasing soon, you nearly pale a couple shades, knowing it'll take some prayer not to end up hurting your jaw. The male has lived in captivity since the day he hatched, you've enjoyed showing him some of the nicer things in life from time to time, this is just another one of them.
Carefully grabbing onto the left one, you glance at 197 as you deliberately slip your tongue out, so he doesn't just assume you're going to try biting his genitals. He tenses, because of course he would, but you take your time, stopping the moment only his tip is inside your mouth. The breeder is a tad confused and quaking slightly with ambiguous anticipation.
Then you suck.
And it clicks instantly.
God, just this little of his length is already forcing you to open wider than you've ever had to with previous partners, still, you strain to take a few more inches down and focus on that part.
The male exhales tremulously, experiencing the feeling for the first time ever, you're certain. 197 has to straighten slightly as the first intense waves of pleasure course through him, and bless the big dorky monster, he has no idea what to do with himself or his arms. As your jaw adjusts, a tad uncomfortably, you start truly gouging how much of him you can handle. Not that much honestly, but it's to be expected. It's already more than enough to please him, if the increasingly louder growled trills are any indication.
Oh, you bet this is the closest thing to heaven for him. His favorite human, with a mouth warmer than he could have ever expected, lips much softer than any of his species', no apex predator teeth to get in the way, and a tongue that although flat and short, can still chase after those wonderfully sensitive spots.
He has exactly zero idea how to react beyond making bestial noises and drooling on his own chest like a vapid animal. The way his cock pulses in your mouth is a tad bothersome to the rhythm you're trying to keep, but you figure you don't have to show-off to someone who's never had oral before, he's already blown away.
Humorously, 197's hands land on your shoulders, and that's the only way he can apparently steady himself while he's sucked off. His spare cock oozes precum that smears onto your bare chest and you half-heartedly pump it when you pop off his other dick.
" Is this okay, hm? " Needless question, really.
The breeder doesn't even make an effort to reply, whining at the loss of friction and edging forward until both his members nudge against your cheek and lips, begging without words to have that bliss again.
Feeling vaguely in control, enough to be playful, you lean away from the one closest to you and take the right one into your mouth, sucking it as far in as you physically can before switching to the other one, all just so you can hear 197 gasp and grunt out moans. His desperation causes him to buck, and as you gag, a little lightbulb fizzles above his head.
Oh.
Oh no.
The next time you try to pull away, his hands rise from your shoulders to the sides of your head. Each dark finger nearly curves over the perimeter of your skull, and you freeze instantly, not wanting him to tighten his grasp by any means. Everything is fine so long as he only holds onto your head this way, gently.
He's the one moving this time, apparently marveling at the sight of his length disappearing past your somewhat swollen, drooled lips. Except, as expected, he's going faster and deeper than you'd like, getting into it enough to trigger harsh flutters in the back of your throat. Your gagging and subsequent reflexive jerks are met with warning rumbles and one of his hands caging you in place by the back of head.
He learns fast, needless to say.
The more he drives into you, the less you can control your saliva, creating gross pops and slurps as you have little choice but to huff through your nose. Merciless, not even the odd cough around his dick will stop him now that he's nearing orgasm, or so you're willing to guess by his franticness.
Eventually, he makes the mistake of shoving his cock far enough that your jaw strains and your stomach flips, a grossly loud hurl being his response. The horrid noise finally jolts him to a still, giving you enough space to pull away and catch some much needed breath, controlling your belly before anything unfortunate happens.
" Fucking Hell! " You groan hoarsely, irritated. " You're hung like a horse, be careful... "
The rutting male's fried brain only understands that you sound wounded, a concerned chirp followed by soothing sloppy laps to your jaw being his response.
Not an ideal development at all, and yet, progress.
197 is usually very violent with the breeders they tired to pair him for mating. Which is to be expected, being the golden goose of the facility comes at a cost- The rush of hormones in his machine of a metabolism doesn't just contribute to more virility than his male peers, it also causes bursts of hyper aggression not easily controlled. And the only socialization this one usually gets is fights with other males who feel threatened by his presence, understand that they are being hurt by techs because they fail to live up to the standard 197 created, that they might be killed for such.
The females, likewise, fear him.
197 is bigger, louder, scarier. He has a reputation amongst the other breeders, and some of them were more likely to try fighting him off during their heats than accept getting sexual with him. This has led to 197 rejecting all breeders regardless of the context, which resulted in many of the paired females being immediately fatally attacked whenever a scheduled session was arranged. Sometimes he would simply slaughter them, other times he would actually instinctually attempt to mate, and end up ignoring cries of distress, nothing but rage and hormones in that brain causing him to end up killing them mid-coitus.
Shitshows, complete shitshows you've had the displeasure of partially witnessing in the past.
Which is why you're so incredibly shocked he stopped when he heard you nearly throw up. Then again, you're no breeder, and you like to think you've created as decent a connection with him as possible. It could be that.
When the monster thinks you've recovered enough, he attempts to get you to sit in the same position from before so things can resume, and if the way he's insistent on keeping a hold of your head is any indication, then he's learned he prefers to take control of this. And you won't be the fool that argues with him in this state.
After licking your lips a few times, hearing his impatient little huffs, you take one of those slicked cocks into your mouth again, letting him build the pace back up. On the one hand, you're glad you don't have to pretend to keep any composure, letting yourself drool as much as possible for the sake of making the process easier, and uncaring of the filthy noises that only seem to make his thighs quake. On the other, you need a solution so he doesn't just peirce past the back of your throat.
So, experimentally, the next time 197 pushes far enough to have your eyes rolling, you get a firm grasp of the base of his tail and tug.
The appendage lifts and his spine curves back in sudden shock. You doubt it's pain that has him straightening like a plank, after all, you know these beings can oftentimes carry their young by the tail, so if it can handle their body weight, then it can handle a yank from a human's hand. It's more so a sort of "freeze reaction", effective in getting the male to pull back even if he grunts in mild agitation.
It's only fair, in your eyes.
The moment you let go, 197 continues to fuck your face as he pleases, moaning and curving over you once more to find his own pleasure, until he drives in too much again and you repeat the gesture. Over and over, so he understands there are limits.
It seems to succeed in getting the message across. If he wants to keep getting sucked off by your hot little mouth, then he needs to be minimally considerate.
This goes on for a while, you're almost proud to feel him eventually actively hold back from going too far. Because that would halt the friction, and judging by the way his tongue lolls out in pleasure, 197 wants to come really bad.
He seems to have enjoyed your antics from before, because the male actively pulls out of your mouth with another lurid pop and positions his spare length against your lips, fucking into you a couple times before switching to the other one, doing this enough times that you honestly struggle to contain some laughter.
His throbbing increases and you know his peak approaches, quickly reaching beside you for the container as fingers race to open it. Your spare hand makes an extra effort to stroke the length 197 can't fit inside you and with as much vigor as possible, you complement his every motion.
The second you back away to breathe, strings of saliva still clinging from your lips to his dicks, offers the monster enough of a nasty view to trigger exactly what you need. 197 snarls at the top of his lungs, rapidly fisting both cocks before you. It's a decidedly disgustingly arousing display that has you staring heatedly, until the first rope of thick pearly cum lands on your cheek.
It jolts you into flustered movement, holding the canister up to the closest of his girths, you try to get as much as possible inside, unable to shield yourself from the rest of his load as it lands on your neck and tits, warm globs marking you in the throes of the specimen's ecstasy.
It's immensely relieving for him, the sighed, low and needy moans that rip out his throat evidence enough that 197 had been pent up for more than a while. And you... You're soaked in warm seed, observing his maddened jerking slow down.
This is your job now.
Personally collecting from the golden goose of the facility. All for a bonus.
Whatever, just don't think about it too much.
Giving into the guilty sense of pride you feel over making 197 stare at the ceiling in total bliss, you lean down to catch the trails dripping down those teal blue lengths, cleaning him. You don't have to, by any means, but you've already sunk so low today, what difference does it make if you let yourself go a little?
The specimen's legs tremble and he glances down at you with this utterly cum-drunk, infatuated smile. Dark, stained digits rise to comb through your hair in some kind of comforting gesture until you eventually pull away and allow the male to recover.
Now, two things.
You need to clean up somehow, you don't want his cum to dry on your skin.
There's also the matter of the second canister, you think while you grab one of the cloths in the breeder's nest to wipe your face and chest on. You probably won't be allowed to leave his cell until they're both full.
Reaching for the one already warm with 197's sample, you seal it tight, the small device in it emitting a faint green light and beeping quietly. The signal that one container has been filled is then sent to whichever tech is keeping track of this particularly... Unique task.
A pang of shame courses through you at the thought of one of your coworkers now knowing that you've made 197 orgasm.
Time to get the other one and hurry this up.
Unfortunately, as soon as you're about to set a foot outside of the nest, a huge black hand captures your leg, and you're possessively tugged back by a disgruntled breeder who barely gives you enough time to scream before he starts shredding the rest of your clothes...
Hours have passed. You're sure of it.
As far as anyone's concerned, your work has been accomplished. Both canisters are practically overflowing with untainted samples, sitting in the corner of the room so that nothing happens to them.
You're naked, sticky and likely to bruise in some areas from 197's lack of strength mediation, but you did it.
At any moment now, coworkers of yours will enter 197's cell, and you know it's going to be a total wreck. Between his likely immediate aggression, the damage they'll cause him and your less than sightly state, it'll be unpleasant.
But you can't bring yourself to care.
Not when a tireless tongue continues to groom your already exhausted form and 197's meaty cock lazily fucks globs of his hot cum back into your puffed pussy while he trills soothingly. His breathing has steadied and his heartbeat slows.
Any moment now, he might fall asleep inside you, enjoying a sweet moment of bliss before you're taken away again.
It's almost cruel.
#Bregory#monsterfucker#terato tag#yandere monster#yandere teratophilia#monster boyfriend#monster x human#not sfw#minors dni#pinnie's art#terat0philliac
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