₊˚⊹♡ synopsis: You lied about being a beta. But now you’re in heat, and someone’s about to find out the hard way.
₊˚⊹♡ pairing: Alpha!LADSmen x Omega!reader
₊˚⊹♡ warnings: NSFW! unprotected sex, loads of breeding (pun intended), knotting (caleb cuz why do you think he can help it?), omegaverse, dumbification, inappropriate use of evol, fingering, cunnilingus, mild angst+loss-of-control trauma(zayne), multiple rounds of feral fucking.
₊˚⊹♡ nya's note: passed out from period cramps and resurrected only to type this—in. one. night. so forgive me since it isn't exactly proofread. however i do hope i fed you well, my naniis.
if you wanna be tagged for the sequels, do lmk in the comments.
and finallyyy—reblogs, feedback, unhinged thoughts—all are deeply appreciated.
秦彻 SYLUS QIN
It’s all a blur—the cramps twisting inside you, your head spinning, vision blurring. The gun slips from your shaking hand, but Sylus doesn’t notice that. He notices the way your scent changes, sweet and sharp, his pupils shrinking in horror before widening with something worse.
You barely hear him call your name before glass shatters and his Evol drags you both out of danger.
Fuck. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out you weren’t a beta. You’d been so careful—suppressants doubled, routine perfected—but you hadn’t accounted for a high-risk mission throwing your cycle off balance.
“Pheromones,” you croak, clutching your stomach, curling fetal in the passenger seat.
He doesn’t hesitate. Soon, the car is heavy with his presence. His pheromones wrap around you—warm like a leather jacket left in the sun, like the earth after rain, rich and grounding. Your cramps dull…for a moment. Until they hit again.
“Please. m’sorry,” you murmur, guiding his hand to your cunt, soaking through your pants.
“Kitten.” His jaw is tight—warning—or pleading—it’s impossible to tell apart.
“For fuck’s sake, Sylus. Please.”
That’s all it takes. His hand shoves into your pants, sliding two fingers in while the other stays on the wheel.
“Fucking soaked,” he grunts, his pheromones thickening as your cunt holds him in a hot grip.
He groans once more as you clamp tight. “Heat suppressants. Is that why this is that bad?”
You give him a look. But he just curls his fingers in you, making a whorish moan rip from your throat. “Fuck—fuck me. please.” You cling to his arm like a lifeline.
“Sweetie.” His brows furrow but God he’s so hard at that. “Do you realise what you’re saying?”
“Just shut up—for once and listen to me.” your jaw tightens as you hold back a sob.
It’s how you’re on his bed, pants off, the angry tip of his cock already dragging between your soaked lips. his face is close to your hot one, his arms secured around your arched body.
His cock slips into you. he pushes forward once—his delicious weight crushing your body. And the draaaaag of his stupidly thick dick along your pulsating walls—ohhh—
“Sy—!” a weak moan escapes you as you cum around him.
“Already, kitten? I’ve barely filled you.” he cradles your face as your eyes open. Your hips rock once, pushing his head deeper.
He sighs, and lifts off you. you nearly whimper at the lack of his skin against yours. But soon, his pheromones come alive, drowning you. his hand snakes below you knee, hooking it up and pressing it way back to your chest.
“Now that you’ve come to,” he drawls, pulling his hips back until only his tip remains. “Let us begin.” And with that, he surges forward, filling you in one long stroke.
You mouth hangs open as you fall limp under him, your cheek wet from drool. Your cramps have dulled and there’s only the pressure of his dick filling your womb so perfectly at each brutal snap of his hips to yours.
Your body rocks at each thrust. Strings of whimpers fall from your mouth as he fucks you. You don’t know if you’re imagining it but his pheromones tickle your skin like they have a mind of their own. How long had you been suppressing your heat?
“Stay with me.” Sylus grips your chin, his cock never stopping its heavenly abuse.
“mmpph—please more,” where do you find the audacity, truly?
He chuckles darky until he pulls back and thrusts hard. “ah—hah yes fucking perfect!”
His finger finds your clit, just keeping it there, still, it has your body quivering. He buries himself to the hilt once and spills into you with a deep groan.
And as if your womb has a brain of its own—you cum with him. Just at the taste of his cum.
“Your pheromones are going haywire.” He rasps, eyes closing briefly. You’re so ferally horny that even the syllables he articulates has your pussy fluttering around him. Why wouldn’t you though? Sylus had always been such an alluring alpha. And now that he’s bred you, you wanted more.
…you wanted his knot.
Yeah, you’ve lost your mind.
“Tightening around me,” he groans low in chest, keeping you full of his dick, kissing your womb each time. “If you keep this up, I might knot you.”
“Do it,” you feel him throb inside you. Hard. Like he was swelling—
“don’t—” he bites his tongue, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm the way his blood pumps to his cock. He gives you another thrust regardless—before his energy links slither around your body, flipping you on your stomach.
You whine. But he has to. If he doesn’t—if you keep your slutty mouth running—you’re gonna have a thick knot swelling in you, plugging you and keeping you full of his warm cum.
his hand snakes around your throat, bringing your face back close to his. Your back is arched, ass flush against his hips as his cock drives deeper into your pliant hole. Already overstimulated from finishing so wildly.
“g-god sy—too deep—please!”
“Why did you lie?” his thrusts turn punishing. Sharp.
“I—ngh! Thought you didn’t want a weak partner.” His fingers curls around your neck. Your face feels hotter now. Your thighs press together as you inch closer to cumming hard on his heavy cock again.
“Weak?” he nearly spits those words out. “Kitten. You’re the last person on this planet I’d describe as weak.”
His hand comes down again, to find your clit. His cock screws into you with precision. Making your gummy walls pulsate happily around him.
“fuuuuck. fuck sylus!” you cry out.
“Alpha, beta or omega. It doesn’t fucking matter to me. you’ll always be the strongest woman in my life. And you’re the only one I’d want by my side.”
You’re soaking up the sheets at this point. Your juices spilling and spilling endlessly.
“cum for me.” his lips trace the shell of your ear, before biting your earlobe. And that’s it. You cum around him. Desperately. Pathetically.
Pussy wringing him for his cum. Begging to be bred full. And he gives you. Loads and loads and loads of his cum. It doesn’t stop. And your pussy doesn’t let up on milking him until he’s completely dry.
“You’ll spend your heat cycles with me from now on.”
Who are you to argue.
夏以昼 CALEB XIA
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You thought you could skip your heat suppressants this month. Your doctor had listed all the side effects of the pills. So maybe since you were all alone this weekend, you could let your body be for once. Caleb wasn’t coming over this week. Or so he said.
But here he was, outside your door.
How were you supposed to know he was planning a surprise?
You can’t stop your pheromones. you can’t pretend Caleb’s not knocking on your door and louder now that he can smell your essence flowing through.
“you got an omega in there?” the knocks get insistent. Shit.
“y-yeah. just—just leave for today, okay?” you lie through clenched teeth, one arm over the couch for support. Did you truly think this would repel him?
The door opens. When did he get the key—
The minute his eyes fall on you, he freezes in horror. “no fucking way…” he breathes.
“Caleb I—lets discuss this—” you tremble, falling to the ground. He rushes to crouch beside you. Caleb’s pheromones come alive in response to your wild ones. He has to hold his breath to keep himself in check. And you sense it. His restraint. The only way to escape the interrogation is—
Your lips crash to his, and it doesn’t even take him a second to devour you right back.
“make it stop. Please.” Your hand trails down, low to his hard on. Of course.
That pretty much seals your fate. He lifts you with one hand, and within ten paces he’s putting you on the bed.
He’s on you, nose buried in the crook of your neck, drinking in that sweet scent you keep spilling.
“fuck is this what you needed? An alpha to make it all go away?” his hand traverses down, between your legs where you keep oozing your love juices. You whimper at his words, back arching with need.
“caleb please—”
“you think you’re in the place to make demands pips?” he murmurs darkly. And then you feel it. The way his cock springs free and hits your stomach. Hot and heavy and—you look down—leaking precum that makes your cunt spasm. He taps your clit with the angry red head of his cock.
Before you can let out the whimper stuck in your throat, he pushes in.
“ohh—oh please—” your legs spread wider to accommodate him to no avail. He’s too big. Filling you up too much. Your walls are forced to open for him. “too—hic—big!”
He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s driving into you again, tits bouncing at each hard thrust, allll the way back out and then alllll the way in. your jaw falls slack, eyes glazed with need.
“pretty pussy takin me so well though, baby.” He leans back, watching his dick get smothered in your juices as it keeps disappearing in your little hole.
His finger finds your clit, wetting it with all the mess you dribble out around his cock.
“hngh—! Cale—”
“why’d you hide it from me?” he asks, yanking you closer by your thighs.
“you’d—mmph—treat me like a baby—” your eyes flutter shut as he slams his cock right against your sweet spot buried deep in your gummy walls.
“like what? Do things for you?” he smirks, his thumb teasing your hole as his cock stretches it. “don’t you like it? Me spoiling you?” he groans to himself at it.
You manage to shake your head even as every thought gets fucked out of you.
“no?” he stops abruptly and you whine so pathetically that it reverses each statement of self-respect you’ve made.
You feel weightless as his evol lifts you and places you on him, slamming you back down on his cock. “Well go ahead. Show me how much you hate it when I do the work.”
Your thighs shake as you attempt to move. You try to move. To prove something. But your legs quake, your body burns, and you end up grinding helplessly against him. Not deep enough. Not full enough.
“Fuck, Caleb—”
He cups your face, brings you nose-to-nose.
“Just say it,” he whispers. “Say you need me.” you nod erratically at that.
Wet thwops echoing as he fucks up into you, bullying your hole into swallowing him deeper. “ohmygod—mmfuck!” your head lolls back, eyes shut as he drives into you from below. One sharp thrust and it has you pulsing around him as you cum.
One more thrust and he’s spurting ropes of his cum into you. but then…
“ca—caleb—?!” he grows. His cock gets bigger, and you pussy keeps milking it as his knot swells inside you.
“sorry pips. I need to.” He groans deep as his knot keeps all the thick seed in you—plugged. He lasts only a moment until he’s grinding you on his knot.
“hahh! Istoomuch!” his knot probes your g spot, and the more he grinds, the more it massages that spot making you see fuckin stars even though you’re mad overstimulated, pussy still fluttering in the aftershocks. Tears fall free now.
“Take it. Cum ‘round my knot, baby.” He grunts, pulling you against him, his knot shifting to a delicious angle, pressing so perfectly against that swollen spot—your pussy just dumbly clamping around him, sensitive from all that overuse.
His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles.
“gonna cum—hah—again, pips. You’re gonna take it like a good girl, riight?” his eyes fall on the bulge that forms in your lower tummy. “fuck, you ready to be bred?”
Your nod’s barely a tremor, but it’s enough. He grips your hips, thrusting up hard, deep, relentless. Wet, obscene sounds fill the room. Your orgasm crashes through you, violent and shattering, and his follows—hot and heavy—until you feel it.
And after hours, your heat finally tames into dull cramps.
Maybe having Caleb find out wasn’t as bad as you had thought.
沈星回 XAVIER SHEN
The Association knew your ABO type. Not your cute coworker-slash-neighbour living upstairs. And really, you hadn’t even lied. When he’d assumed you were a beta, you’d simply… not corrected him. A harmless omission.
Until one day, your heat hits. The consecutive missions had been weighing on your mind. Enough to make you forget to take your heat suppressants for the month.
You’d shut all the windows, even taped the edges halfway before a worse wave of cramps hit and you had to curl in fetal on the couch. And as you’re trying to take controlled breaths, you see a basket being lowered onto your balcony. Curiosity drives you toward it.
it’s from Xavier. Painkillers, lavender essential oil and a note. Fuckin hell he knows.
I had some painkillers at home. and the other stuff. Hope it is helpful.
And so, one thing leads to another and you’re begging him to come downstairs.
He has you close to him—back pressed against yours, hands in your panties and two of his fingers in your cunt.
“Xavier… this isn’t helping.” You croak helplessly, hips grinding back against him. You hear him suck in a sharp breath. His pheromones start feeling thicker now.
“you want my cock?” it’s a sultry whisper in your ear. Far from innocent.
“y-yes…”
Your panties are slid aside as the blunt head of his cock teases your hole, coating his own cock in your warm syrup—before slipping in, making you stretch open around him inch by inch.
You whimper into the pillow when he buries himself to the hilt.
“m’so full.” You mewl, hips chasing it.
“and you still want more?” he raises a brow behind you. “okay.”
And he drives back in. filling you once more. Your thighs tremble, pressing together as he fucks you slow and deep. The angle makes your head spin. He’s nestled against that deep spot so well that you’re already close.
Still, you whimper for more—restless. For that itchy emptiness in your womb to be filled. His palm rests on the side of your waist as he leans close, making the head of his cock shift closer to where you want him.
“what’re you begging for?” his voice is low whisper in your ear.
“wanna-wanna be filled.” You manage. You feel him halt for a moment before he hikes up a thigh. You yelp in surprise but he’s already pounding the blunt head of his cock back into your gummy walls.
“hngh—Xav-Xavier.” You babble incoherently the minute he kisses your cervix. His essence comes alive, encompassing you as he brands you with his cock over and over again.
By the time he slows his pace, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum or how many times he’s filled you full.
Xavier pulls out, only to see your walls push out his creamy spend in a weak pulse. The sound you make is barely human. He exhales something rough, something that sounds like he’s losing the last thread of restraint he ever had.
His thumb presses lightly to your swollen rim, puffy pussy lips tingling with need, circling it once as if testing how sensitive you are. The answer hits him immediately when your whole body jolts.
“…greedy,” he mutters under his breath, voice ragged. “You don’t want to let any of it go, do you?”
“mmh—no—please—”
Your hips twitch, your hand reaching back for him without thought. He catches your wrist, pins it to the small of your back, and watches another bead of slick roll down your thigh.
Then he pushes two fingers back inside you.
You gasp, going taut around them, sucking them in like your pussy recognizes him now and refuses to let him go. His fingers curl, gathering the creamy mess he left inside you and nudging it deeper, deeper to your womb.
“you’re—,” he murmurs, leaning over your spine, his breath hot against your ear. “Still clenching. You’re not done.”
Your breath stutters. “Xavier… please… need—”
“You need me to keep you full,” he finishes for you, like he’s reading straight out of your instincts. He withdraws his fingers, slick and dripping, and you feel the heavy drag of his cock settle between your thighs again. Thicker now. Harder, if that’s even possible.
He guides himself back to your messy pussy lips, tapping lightly against your overstimulated hole before pushing the head in, slow enough to make your eyes cross. The stretch burns in the sweetest way, your walls fluttering as they try to pull him deeper.
“Good,” he whispers when you moan. “Open for me.”
Your legs fall apart on instinct.
He shoves in with a single, unhesitating thrust.
Your mewl against the pillow as his hips mold flush to yours, your body accepting him like it’s starved for it. His chest presses to your back, trapping you under him as his hand slides under your lower belly, holding you in place while he grinds deeper, deeper, deeper—
“Stay like this,” he says against your neck. “I’m not stopping until your heat settles.”
You sob in blisfull agreement.
Xavier starts moving.
Slow at first. Deep enough that your toes curl with every roll of his hips. Then faster, his rhythm tightening into sharp, precise strokes that spear straight into that molten spot inside you. Your breath breaks, your vision shatters, and you’re already trembling before the next orgasm even crests.
Your body clamps around him so hard he groans into your skin, low.
“That’s it,” he hisses. “Keep milking me. You’re going to take all of it this time.”
His hand slides down, thumb working tight circles over your clit while he fucks you deeper, the bed shaking underneath both of you. Pressure coils so brutally that you’re practically ripped open by the pleasure when it hits, your walls spasming around him in relentless waves.
Xavier isn’t far behind. His pace stutters, his grip on your waist bruises, and with a groan that sounds dragged from the bottom of his lungs, he spills inside you again, thick and hot and endless.
Your body shudders, overstimulated and so full it aches.
Xavier breathes hard against your shoulder, but he doesn’t pull out. His fingers hold your hips steady, keeping every drop inside you.
“Not done,” he mumbles, voice a deep, exhausted rasp. “Your heat’s nowhere near finished.”
You whimper, already trembling under him. And he rolls his hips again.
祁煜 RAFAYEL QI
Your fork barely touches the plate before the first cramp hits. You try to school your face, but Rafayel’s eyes are on you instantly, bright and nosy as always.
“You good, cutie?” he drawls, tipping his head, curls falling over his cheek. “You look like you just saw your report card.”
You force a shaky laugh and wave him off. “Just… gas.”
He hums, unconvinced. Meanwhile, your heat is blooming too fast, rising under your skin, threatening to drag you under. Why weren’t the suppressants working well?
Another cramp snarls through your abdomen. You grip the table edge.
His eyes narrow. “Okay. That wasn’t a ‘gas’ thing. What’s going on?”
Your pulse skitters. You need relief. Something to anchor you. You swallow hard and manage, “Your… your pheromones. I just—what do they smell like, again?”
There’s a beat where he just blinks. Then his brows lift, slow, almost elegant.
“My pheromones,” he repeats. He leans in like a cat catching a scent trail. “You’ve been hiding something from me, miss bodyguard.”
The way he says it feels like a fingertip down your spine. You don’t answer. You can’t. Another wave hits and you shudder, breath hitching.
Rafayel’s expression shifts, his dramatic flair flickering into something sharper. Calmer. A tone you’ve never heard from him.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
It doesn’t take him much time to drive you back to his place. He carries you down the hall, pushes into his room, and sets you on the bed with a care that barely matches the tension in his body. The scent of him settles around you, curling warm and sweet, thick enough to make your thighs part on instinct.
Rafayel’s gaze drops between your legs, breath stuttering. “Cutie… your scent is driving me insane.”
Your heat spikes at the sound of his voice. You reach for him, dragging him in by his shirt. He kisses you immediately, deep and dizzying, his mouth soft but insistent as your body arches up against him. His pheromones hit you in a hot wave and you moan into his lips.
“Lie back,” he murmurs.
You do, chest rising and falling too fast, the need clawing through your skin. He slides his hands up your thighs, pushes your panties aside, and the moment the cooler air hits you, you gasp.
“cutiee,” he whispers, eyes darkening as slick gathers between your legs. “You’re already dripping.”
You try to squeeze your thighs together but he stops you, fingers pressing them open again. He leans down, kisses the inside of your knee, then your thigh… then settles right between your legs.
The first slow lick of his tongue makes your hips jump. The second pulls a broken sound from your throat. He sucks gently at your swollen clit, breath warm against you, one hand holding your thigh steady while the other slides under your ass to lift your hips closer to his mouth.
Your heat flares. Hard. Violent. You grab at his hair as your back arches off the bed.
“Rafa—Rafayel, I can’t—”
“Yes you can.” His voice is thick, hungry. “You need this, don’t you?”
Before you can answer, he flattens his tongue against you and pushes two fingers inside you. Your body clamps down instantly, drawing them deeper. The relief is so sharp you whimper, hips rocking helplessly.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against your skin. “Let me take care of you today, miss bodyguard.”
You fall apart on his fingers, pleasure hitting so fast you barely manage a gasp before the orgasm crashes over you. He doesn’t pull back. He keeps licking you through it, his spit mixing with the sweet syrup you ooze out. He keeps fucking you with his fingers until the overstimulation burns into need again.
You’re shaking when he finally lifts his head. His lips and chin are slick with you. His pupils blown wide.
“Round one.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawls up your body, kissing your stomach, your ribs, your throat. “You’re not done, cutie.”
You barely register his clothes being pulled off him, his body settling over yours, his cock heavy and leaking against your soaked entrance. He cups your face, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.
Your eyes meet his and his pheromones roll out in a deep, sweet rush that goes straight to your spine.
The second he pushes into you, your breath breaks. The stretch is intense, perfect, your walls gripping him so tight he groans against your ear.
“Warm… so warm…” His hips snap forward, burying him fully inside you. “suuuch a sweet pussy. Clinging so pathetically.”
You cling to him, heat twisting your nerves raw as he starts to thrust. Slow at first, deep enough to make your toes curl. Then faster, his grip tightening on your waist as he pounds into your syrupy cunt, every stroke hitting the spot that makes your vision blur.
Your legs lock around him. “ohhmmhhh ye—rafayel—ah—please—”
He catches your wrists and pins them above your head, leaning down until his forehead touches yours. “I know. Just take it. You need it reeal bad.”
His thrusts get sharper. Harder. The bed creaks. Sweat slicks your bodies together. The smell of your heat and his pheromones mixes into something thick, intoxicating. Your climax builds hot and brutal, tearing through you the moment his thumb drops to your clit.
You cry his name. Your poor cunt spasms around him. He groans, hips jerking as he presses as deep as your body will take him.
He fills you. Hot. Thick. Pulse after pulse until you’re trembling under him, stuffed full of his creamy goodness.
But he doesn’t soften.
He kisses your jaw, breath shaky. “That’s two.”
“wha—angh!”
His hips roll again, slow, deliberate, keeping everything inside you.
“You’re not done,” he whispers, licking into your mouth as he starts moving again. “Your heat wants more.”
And he gives it to you. Again. And again. Until the room smells like nothing but the two of you tangled in instinct and sweat and pleasure, until you lose count of rounds and the world narrows to the feeling of his body claiming yours until your heat finally, finally settles.
Rafayel collapses beside you, pulls you against his chest, and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Next time,” he murmurs into your hair, “just ask nicely, baby.”
黎深 ZAYNE LI
"breeding.”
—Is the last word you’d use with Zayne. much less ask for it. Yet here you are after his little pheromone outburst at the hospital. You’d lied about being a beta right from the beginning. Avoided the Akso hospital to get yourself checked, avoided Zayne half your high school after you bloomed late.
All because of one thing—like his evol, Zayne had a hard time containing his pheromones. and being a decently dominant alpha, his pheromones would often push omegas around him into heat.
As it did to you when you thought of visiting him to drop by lunch. The moment you entered his office, your knees weakened. Your stomach twisted in painful knots. and he—he had to rush you back home after learning everything. Even your unhealthy dosage of heat suppressants that you ingested each month because of him.
“I’m not leaving until you’re alright.” He kneels by your bed as you curl up in pain.
“s’not your f-faul-fuckinsonofa—” you breathe once as a cramp hits. “just leave. It’s—” a breath again “…fine.”
“untrue.” His jaw flexes. Adamant idiot. It’s the pain that makes your brain fry enough to forget all boundaries.
“breeding. Tha—aghh—! Is what’ll stop it.”
You don’t give him a chance to process before your lips are crashing with his. He freezes for a moment until he melts into it, slowly rising from the floor and onto the bed when you clutch his collar.
“there is a high chance this might result in unwanted—”
“I know. We’ll get me some pills.” You huff, guiding his hand to your soaked, hot cunt.
His wrist twists, catching yours. “are you certain?” his eyes are softer. Scared.
You nod. And then cup his face despite your womb internally punching you.
“of course.” With that, he pulls you on him, keeping you close, thighs against his knees.
His fingers find the edge of your panties, slipping through easily. Two fingers circle your entrance before pushing in. you grind on his lap. His hips lift for a moment, chasing that friction.
You whimper in pain and that’s what makes Zayne finally pull out his cock. Thick, heavy and so, sooo ready to ruin you.
But the moment you lift your hips to finally sink, your cramp hits.
“I’ve got you.” he murmurs, stroking your hair with one hand and the other guiding his leaky tip to your pussy.
Your hips roll once and you wince again. “stop.” His brows furrow in a silent correction.
“relax.” He murmurs as he eases into you, slowly, filling every inch sooo good that it has you whimpering. Your walls stretch around him inch by inch.
“zay—mmhh so—” your eyes roll back, mouth open.
He lets out a soft sound at the way you clutch around him so perfectly. Fit him like a fuckin glove.
His hips raise once. Testing. And judging by your already fucked out look, he thrusts harder this time. your nails dig into his shoulders as your own hips roll once the pain ebbs away giving way to molten pleasure.
Your walls flutter around him at each kiss of his cock to your overly welcoming womb.
“m’so close…” you whisper, burying your head into his neck, breathing in his scent that singlehandedly calms your pain. His fingers find your clit, rubbing taut circles on your swollen nub, smearing your arousal over it.
Your pussy keeps clamping around him tighter and tighter and tighter—
“c-cumming—ohhhmy—zaynee—” he fills you to the hilt, giving your syrupy, greedy walls something to milk.
And ohhh that you do. Enough to have him explode into you, filling you with hot ribbons of cum, making it cream around your hole—mixing with your honey.
He slowly sets you down are you come down from your high. But his cock is insistent. Still hard, still keeping you full of him.
“s’not enough—” your hand comes down to your stomach. But Zayne captures it, bringing it to his lips, kissing the inside of your wrist.
“then let me satisfy you.” He pulls back only to fill you up again.
Messy strings of his cum dribbles out of you, spilling onto the sheets. His hips move again, this time—pounding you.
Deep, looong strokes, each reaching the end of you and back out.
“hngh—m’too full—” you babble, moans stuck in your throat.
His hands part your thighs, hiking them up so your body can take him deeper if that were even possible.
Your walls flutter around him hungrily again with every deep thrust, your hips rolling on instinct as he fills you relentlessly. Strings of his cum mix with your arousal, dripping down the curve of your thighs, and the scent—his pheromones, his essence—wraps around you, making you all hot and coaxing you towards your orgasm.
“Zayne—mhh… s-so deep…” you whimper, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he keeps moving, slow at first, then harder. A cocktail that messes your brain chemistry.
Each stroke hits that perfect spot, and you sob, lost between pleasure and the ache that still lingers from your heat.
His hands move to your waist, holding you firmly, but gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, almost tender, brushing a strand of sweat-damp hair from your temple. “I wish I could control it—”
You shake your head weakly, lips parting in a soft moan. “S’not your fault… Zayne,” you breathe, tilting your head to kiss his jawline, tasting the mixture of him and yourself. “I’ve always wanted you.”
He groans softly at your confession, letting it wash over him before pressing back into you, hips snapping against yours with a fresh, deliberate force.
“cum for me, my sweet.” A kiss is planted to your temple. “please.” He adds softly as he reaches down to rub your clit, pushing you closer to your climax.
But he beats you to it. Breeding you full—once more—giving you everything you’ve begged for tonight. Still, he mumbles apologies, thrusting into you—pushing through his overstimulation. He nearly cries out when you cum around him for the last time tonight.
₊˚⊹♡ synopsis: You lied about being a beta. But now you’re in heat, and someone’s about to find out the hard way.
₊˚⊹♡ pairing: Alpha!LADSmen x Omega!reader
₊˚⊹♡ warnings: NSFW! unprotected sex, loads of breeding (pun intended), knotting (caleb cuz why do you think he can help it?), omegaverse, dumbification, inappropriate use of evol, fingering, cunnilingus, mild angst+loss-of-control trauma(zayne), multiple rounds of feral fucking.
₊˚⊹♡ nya's note: passed out from period cramps and resurrected only to type this—in. one. night. so forgive me since it isn't exactly proofread. however i do hope i fed you well, my naniis.
if you wanna be tagged for the sequels, do lmk in the comments.
and finallyyy—reblogs, feedback, unhinged thoughts—all are deeply appreciated.
秦彻 SYLUS QIN
It’s all a blur—the cramps twisting inside you, your head spinning, vision blurring. The gun slips from your shaking hand, but Sylus doesn’t notice that. He notices the way your scent changes, sweet and sharp, his pupils shrinking in horror before widening with something worse.
You barely hear him call your name before glass shatters and his Evol drags you both out of danger.
Fuck. This wasn’t how he was supposed to find out you weren’t a beta. You’d been so careful—suppressants doubled, routine perfected—but you hadn’t accounted for a high-risk mission throwing your cycle off balance.
“Pheromones,” you croak, clutching your stomach, curling fetal in the passenger seat.
He doesn’t hesitate. Soon, the car is heavy with his presence. His pheromones wrap around you—warm like a leather jacket left in the sun, like the earth after rain, rich and grounding. Your cramps dull…for a moment. Until they hit again.
“Please. m’sorry,” you murmur, guiding his hand to your cunt, soaking through your pants.
“Kitten.” His jaw is tight—warning—or pleading—it’s impossible to tell apart.
“For fuck’s sake, Sylus. Please.”
That’s all it takes. His hand shoves into your pants, sliding two fingers in while the other stays on the wheel.
“Fucking soaked,” he grunts, his pheromones thickening as your cunt holds him in a hot grip.
He groans once more as you clamp tight. “Heat suppressants. Is that why this is that bad?”
You give him a look. But he just curls his fingers in you, making a whorish moan rip from your throat. “Fuck—fuck me. please.” You cling to his arm like a lifeline.
“Sweetie.” His brows furrow but God he’s so hard at that. “Do you realise what you’re saying?”
“Just shut up—for once and listen to me.” your jaw tightens as you hold back a sob.
It’s how you’re on his bed, pants off, the angry tip of his cock already dragging between your soaked lips. his face is close to your hot one, his arms secured around your arched body.
His cock slips into you. he pushes forward once—his delicious weight crushing your body. And the draaaaag of his stupidly thick dick along your pulsating walls—ohhh—
“Sy—!” a weak moan escapes you as you cum around him.
“Already, kitten? I’ve barely filled you.” he cradles your face as your eyes open. Your hips rock once, pushing his head deeper.
He sighs, and lifts off you. you nearly whimper at the lack of his skin against yours. But soon, his pheromones come alive, drowning you. his hand snakes below you knee, hooking it up and pressing it way back to your chest.
“Now that you’ve come to,” he drawls, pulling his hips back until only his tip remains. “Let us begin.” And with that, he surges forward, filling you in one long stroke.
You mouth hangs open as you fall limp under him, your cheek wet from drool. Your cramps have dulled and there’s only the pressure of his dick filling your womb so perfectly at each brutal snap of his hips to yours.
Your body rocks at each thrust. Strings of whimpers fall from your mouth as he fucks you. You don’t know if you’re imagining it but his pheromones tickle your skin like they have a mind of their own. How long had you been suppressing your heat?
“Stay with me.” Sylus grips your chin, his cock never stopping its heavenly abuse.
“mmpph—please more,” where do you find the audacity, truly?
He chuckles darky until he pulls back and thrusts hard. “ah—hah yes fucking perfect!”
His finger finds your clit, just keeping it there, still, it has your body quivering. He buries himself to the hilt once and spills into you with a deep groan.
And as if your womb has a brain of its own—you cum with him. Just at the taste of his cum.
“Your pheromones are going haywire.” He rasps, eyes closing briefly. You’re so ferally horny that even the syllables he articulates has your pussy fluttering around him. Why wouldn’t you though? Sylus had always been such an alluring alpha. And now that he’s bred you, you wanted more.
…you wanted his knot.
Yeah, you’ve lost your mind.
“Tightening around me,” he groans low in chest, keeping you full of his dick, kissing your womb each time. “If you keep this up, I might knot you.”
“Do it,” you feel him throb inside you. Hard. Like he was swelling—
“don’t—” he bites his tongue, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm the way his blood pumps to his cock. He gives you another thrust regardless—before his energy links slither around your body, flipping you on your stomach.
You whine. But he has to. If he doesn’t—if you keep your slutty mouth running—you’re gonna have a thick knot swelling in you, plugging you and keeping you full of his warm cum.
his hand snakes around your throat, bringing your face back close to his. Your back is arched, ass flush against his hips as his cock drives deeper into your pliant hole. Already overstimulated from finishing so wildly.
“g-god sy—too deep—please!”
“Why did you lie?” his thrusts turn punishing. Sharp.
“I—ngh! Thought you didn’t want a weak partner.” His fingers curls around your neck. Your face feels hotter now. Your thighs press together as you inch closer to cumming hard on his heavy cock again.
“Weak?” he nearly spits those words out. “Kitten. You’re the last person on this planet I’d describe as weak.”
His hand comes down again, to find your clit. His cock screws into you with precision. Making your gummy walls pulsate happily around him.
“fuuuuck. fuck sylus!” you cry out.
“Alpha, beta or omega. It doesn’t fucking matter to me. you’ll always be the strongest woman in my life. And you’re the only one I’d want by my side.”
You’re soaking up the sheets at this point. Your juices spilling and spilling endlessly.
“cum for me.” his lips trace the shell of your ear, before biting your earlobe. And that’s it. You cum around him. Desperately. Pathetically.
Pussy wringing him for his cum. Begging to be bred full. And he gives you. Loads and loads and loads of his cum. It doesn’t stop. And your pussy doesn’t let up on milking him until he’s completely dry.
“You’ll spend your heat cycles with me from now on.”
Who are you to argue.
夏以昼 CALEB XIA
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You thought you could skip your heat suppressants this month. Your doctor had listed all the side effects of the pills. So maybe since you were all alone this weekend, you could let your body be for once. Caleb wasn’t coming over this week. Or so he said.
But here he was, outside your door.
How were you supposed to know he was planning a surprise?
You can’t stop your pheromones. you can’t pretend Caleb’s not knocking on your door and louder now that he can smell your essence flowing through.
“you got an omega in there?” the knocks get insistent. Shit.
“y-yeah. just—just leave for today, okay?” you lie through clenched teeth, one arm over the couch for support. Did you truly think this would repel him?
The door opens. When did he get the key—
The minute his eyes fall on you, he freezes in horror. “no fucking way…” he breathes.
“Caleb I—lets discuss this—” you tremble, falling to the ground. He rushes to crouch beside you. Caleb’s pheromones come alive in response to your wild ones. He has to hold his breath to keep himself in check. And you sense it. His restraint. The only way to escape the interrogation is—
Your lips crash to his, and it doesn’t even take him a second to devour you right back.
“make it stop. Please.” Your hand trails down, low to his hard on. Of course.
That pretty much seals your fate. He lifts you with one hand, and within ten paces he’s putting you on the bed.
He’s on you, nose buried in the crook of your neck, drinking in that sweet scent you keep spilling.
“fuck is this what you needed? An alpha to make it all go away?” his hand traverses down, between your legs where you keep oozing your love juices. You whimper at his words, back arching with need.
“caleb please—”
“you think you’re in the place to make demands pips?” he murmurs darkly. And then you feel it. The way his cock springs free and hits your stomach. Hot and heavy and—you look down—leaking precum that makes your cunt spasm. He taps your clit with the angry red head of his cock.
Before you can let out the whimper stuck in your throat, he pushes in.
“ohh—oh please—” your legs spread wider to accommodate him to no avail. He’s too big. Filling you up too much. Your walls are forced to open for him. “too—hic—big!”
He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s driving into you again, tits bouncing at each hard thrust, allll the way back out and then alllll the way in. your jaw falls slack, eyes glazed with need.
“pretty pussy takin me so well though, baby.” He leans back, watching his dick get smothered in your juices as it keeps disappearing in your little hole.
His finger finds your clit, wetting it with all the mess you dribble out around his cock.
“hngh—! Cale—”
“why’d you hide it from me?” he asks, yanking you closer by your thighs.
“you’d—mmph—treat me like a baby—” your eyes flutter shut as he slams his cock right against your sweet spot buried deep in your gummy walls.
“like what? Do things for you?” he smirks, his thumb teasing your hole as his cock stretches it. “don’t you like it? Me spoiling you?” he groans to himself at it.
You manage to shake your head even as every thought gets fucked out of you.
“no?” he stops abruptly and you whine so pathetically that it reverses each statement of self-respect you’ve made.
You feel weightless as his evol lifts you and places you on him, slamming you back down on his cock. “Well go ahead. Show me how much you hate it when I do the work.”
Your thighs shake as you attempt to move. You try to move. To prove something. But your legs quake, your body burns, and you end up grinding helplessly against him. Not deep enough. Not full enough.
“Fuck, Caleb—”
He cups your face, brings you nose-to-nose.
“Just say it,” he whispers. “Say you need me.” you nod erratically at that.
Wet thwops echoing as he fucks up into you, bullying your hole into swallowing him deeper. “ohmygod—mmfuck!” your head lolls back, eyes shut as he drives into you from below. One sharp thrust and it has you pulsing around him as you cum.
One more thrust and he’s spurting ropes of his cum into you. but then…
“ca—caleb—?!” he grows. His cock gets bigger, and you pussy keeps milking it as his knot swells inside you.
“sorry pips. I need to.” He groans deep as his knot keeps all the thick seed in you—plugged. He lasts only a moment until he’s grinding you on his knot.
“hahh! Istoomuch!” his knot probes your g spot, and the more he grinds, the more it massages that spot making you see fuckin stars even though you’re mad overstimulated, pussy still fluttering in the aftershocks. Tears fall free now.
“Take it. Cum ‘round my knot, baby.” He grunts, pulling you against him, his knot shifting to a delicious angle, pressing so perfectly against that swollen spot—your pussy just dumbly clamping around him, sensitive from all that overuse.
His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles.
“gonna cum—hah—again, pips. You’re gonna take it like a good girl, riight?” his eyes fall on the bulge that forms in your lower tummy. “fuck, you ready to be bred?”
Your nod’s barely a tremor, but it’s enough. He grips your hips, thrusting up hard, deep, relentless. Wet, obscene sounds fill the room. Your orgasm crashes through you, violent and shattering, and his follows—hot and heavy—until you feel it.
And after hours, your heat finally tames into dull cramps.
Maybe having Caleb find out wasn’t as bad as you had thought.
沈星回 XAVIER SHEN
The Association knew your ABO type. Not your cute coworker-slash-neighbour living upstairs. And really, you hadn’t even lied. When he’d assumed you were a beta, you’d simply… not corrected him. A harmless omission.
Until one day, your heat hits. The consecutive missions had been weighing on your mind. Enough to make you forget to take your heat suppressants for the month.
You’d shut all the windows, even taped the edges halfway before a worse wave of cramps hit and you had to curl in fetal on the couch. And as you’re trying to take controlled breaths, you see a basket being lowered onto your balcony. Curiosity drives you toward it.
it’s from Xavier. Painkillers, lavender essential oil and a note. Fuckin hell he knows.
I had some painkillers at home. and the other stuff. Hope it is helpful.
And so, one thing leads to another and you’re begging him to come downstairs.
He has you close to him—back pressed against yours, hands in your panties and two of his fingers in your cunt.
“Xavier… this isn’t helping.” You croak helplessly, hips grinding back against him. You hear him suck in a sharp breath. His pheromones start feeling thicker now.
“you want my cock?” it’s a sultry whisper in your ear. Far from innocent.
“y-yes…”
Your panties are slid aside as the blunt head of his cock teases your hole, coating his own cock in your warm syrup—before slipping in, making you stretch open around him inch by inch.
You whimper into the pillow when he buries himself to the hilt.
“m’so full.” You mewl, hips chasing it.
“and you still want more?” he raises a brow behind you. “okay.”
And he drives back in. filling you once more. Your thighs tremble, pressing together as he fucks you slow and deep. The angle makes your head spin. He’s nestled against that deep spot so well that you’re already close.
Still, you whimper for more—restless. For that itchy emptiness in your womb to be filled. His palm rests on the side of your waist as he leans close, making the head of his cock shift closer to where you want him.
“what’re you begging for?” his voice is low whisper in your ear.
“wanna-wanna be filled.” You manage. You feel him halt for a moment before he hikes up a thigh. You yelp in surprise but he’s already pounding the blunt head of his cock back into your gummy walls.
“hngh—Xav-Xavier.” You babble incoherently the minute he kisses your cervix. His essence comes alive, encompassing you as he brands you with his cock over and over again.
By the time he slows his pace, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum or how many times he’s filled you full.
Xavier pulls out, only to see your walls push out his creamy spend in a weak pulse. The sound you make is barely human. He exhales something rough, something that sounds like he’s losing the last thread of restraint he ever had.
His thumb presses lightly to your swollen rim, puffy pussy lips tingling with need, circling it once as if testing how sensitive you are. The answer hits him immediately when your whole body jolts.
“…greedy,” he mutters under his breath, voice ragged. “You don’t want to let any of it go, do you?”
“mmh—no—please—”
Your hips twitch, your hand reaching back for him without thought. He catches your wrist, pins it to the small of your back, and watches another bead of slick roll down your thigh.
Then he pushes two fingers back inside you.
You gasp, going taut around them, sucking them in like your pussy recognizes him now and refuses to let him go. His fingers curl, gathering the creamy mess he left inside you and nudging it deeper, deeper to your womb.
“you’re—,” he murmurs, leaning over your spine, his breath hot against your ear. “Still clenching. You’re not done.”
Your breath stutters. “Xavier… please… need—”
“You need me to keep you full,” he finishes for you, like he’s reading straight out of your instincts. He withdraws his fingers, slick and dripping, and you feel the heavy drag of his cock settle between your thighs again. Thicker now. Harder, if that’s even possible.
He guides himself back to your messy pussy lips, tapping lightly against your overstimulated hole before pushing the head in, slow enough to make your eyes cross. The stretch burns in the sweetest way, your walls fluttering as they try to pull him deeper.
“Good,” he whispers when you moan. “Open for me.”
Your legs fall apart on instinct.
He shoves in with a single, unhesitating thrust.
Your mewl against the pillow as his hips mold flush to yours, your body accepting him like it’s starved for it. His chest presses to your back, trapping you under him as his hand slides under your lower belly, holding you in place while he grinds deeper, deeper, deeper—
“Stay like this,” he says against your neck. “I’m not stopping until your heat settles.”
You sob in blisfull agreement.
Xavier starts moving.
Slow at first. Deep enough that your toes curl with every roll of his hips. Then faster, his rhythm tightening into sharp, precise strokes that spear straight into that molten spot inside you. Your breath breaks, your vision shatters, and you’re already trembling before the next orgasm even crests.
Your body clamps around him so hard he groans into your skin, low.
“That’s it,” he hisses. “Keep milking me. You’re going to take all of it this time.”
His hand slides down, thumb working tight circles over your clit while he fucks you deeper, the bed shaking underneath both of you. Pressure coils so brutally that you’re practically ripped open by the pleasure when it hits, your walls spasming around him in relentless waves.
Xavier isn’t far behind. His pace stutters, his grip on your waist bruises, and with a groan that sounds dragged from the bottom of his lungs, he spills inside you again, thick and hot and endless.
Your body shudders, overstimulated and so full it aches.
Xavier breathes hard against your shoulder, but he doesn’t pull out. His fingers hold your hips steady, keeping every drop inside you.
“Not done,” he mumbles, voice a deep, exhausted rasp. “Your heat’s nowhere near finished.”
You whimper, already trembling under him. And he rolls his hips again.
祁煜 RAFAYEL QI
Your fork barely touches the plate before the first cramp hits. You try to school your face, but Rafayel’s eyes are on you instantly, bright and nosy as always.
“You good, cutie?” he drawls, tipping his head, curls falling over his cheek. “You look like you just saw your report card.”
You force a shaky laugh and wave him off. “Just… gas.”
He hums, unconvinced. Meanwhile, your heat is blooming too fast, rising under your skin, threatening to drag you under. Why weren’t the suppressants working well?
Another cramp snarls through your abdomen. You grip the table edge.
His eyes narrow. “Okay. That wasn’t a ‘gas’ thing. What’s going on?”
Your pulse skitters. You need relief. Something to anchor you. You swallow hard and manage, “Your… your pheromones. I just—what do they smell like, again?”
There’s a beat where he just blinks. Then his brows lift, slow, almost elegant.
“My pheromones,” he repeats. He leans in like a cat catching a scent trail. “You’ve been hiding something from me, miss bodyguard.”
The way he says it feels like a fingertip down your spine. You don’t answer. You can’t. Another wave hits and you shudder, breath hitching.
Rafayel’s expression shifts, his dramatic flair flickering into something sharper. Calmer. A tone you’ve never heard from him.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
It doesn’t take him much time to drive you back to his place. He carries you down the hall, pushes into his room, and sets you on the bed with a care that barely matches the tension in his body. The scent of him settles around you, curling warm and sweet, thick enough to make your thighs part on instinct.
Rafayel’s gaze drops between your legs, breath stuttering. “Cutie… your scent is driving me insane.”
Your heat spikes at the sound of his voice. You reach for him, dragging him in by his shirt. He kisses you immediately, deep and dizzying, his mouth soft but insistent as your body arches up against him. His pheromones hit you in a hot wave and you moan into his lips.
“Lie back,” he murmurs.
You do, chest rising and falling too fast, the need clawing through your skin. He slides his hands up your thighs, pushes your panties aside, and the moment the cooler air hits you, you gasp.
“cutiee,” he whispers, eyes darkening as slick gathers between your legs. “You’re already dripping.”
You try to squeeze your thighs together but he stops you, fingers pressing them open again. He leans down, kisses the inside of your knee, then your thigh… then settles right between your legs.
The first slow lick of his tongue makes your hips jump. The second pulls a broken sound from your throat. He sucks gently at your swollen clit, breath warm against you, one hand holding your thigh steady while the other slides under your ass to lift your hips closer to his mouth.
Your heat flares. Hard. Violent. You grab at his hair as your back arches off the bed.
“Rafa—Rafayel, I can’t—”
“Yes you can.” His voice is thick, hungry. “You need this, don’t you?”
Before you can answer, he flattens his tongue against you and pushes two fingers inside you. Your body clamps down instantly, drawing them deeper. The relief is so sharp you whimper, hips rocking helplessly.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against your skin. “Let me take care of you today, miss bodyguard.”
You fall apart on his fingers, pleasure hitting so fast you barely manage a gasp before the orgasm crashes over you. He doesn’t pull back. He keeps licking you through it, his spit mixing with the sweet syrup you ooze out. He keeps fucking you with his fingers until the overstimulation burns into need again.
You’re shaking when he finally lifts his head. His lips and chin are slick with you. His pupils blown wide.
“Round one.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then crawls up your body, kissing your stomach, your ribs, your throat. “You’re not done, cutie.”
You barely register his clothes being pulled off him, his body settling over yours, his cock heavy and leaking against your soaked entrance. He cups your face, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone.
Your eyes meet his and his pheromones roll out in a deep, sweet rush that goes straight to your spine.
The second he pushes into you, your breath breaks. The stretch is intense, perfect, your walls gripping him so tight he groans against your ear.
“Warm… so warm…” His hips snap forward, burying him fully inside you. “suuuch a sweet pussy. Clinging so pathetically.”
You cling to him, heat twisting your nerves raw as he starts to thrust. Slow at first, deep enough to make your toes curl. Then faster, his grip tightening on your waist as he pounds into your syrupy cunt, every stroke hitting the spot that makes your vision blur.
Your legs lock around him. “ohhmmhhh ye—rafayel—ah—please—”
He catches your wrists and pins them above your head, leaning down until his forehead touches yours. “I know. Just take it. You need it reeal bad.”
His thrusts get sharper. Harder. The bed creaks. Sweat slicks your bodies together. The smell of your heat and his pheromones mixes into something thick, intoxicating. Your climax builds hot and brutal, tearing through you the moment his thumb drops to your clit.
You cry his name. Your poor cunt spasms around him. He groans, hips jerking as he presses as deep as your body will take him.
He fills you. Hot. Thick. Pulse after pulse until you’re trembling under him, stuffed full of his creamy goodness.
But he doesn’t soften.
He kisses your jaw, breath shaky. “That’s two.”
“wha—angh!”
His hips roll again, slow, deliberate, keeping everything inside you.
“You’re not done,” he whispers, licking into your mouth as he starts moving again. “Your heat wants more.”
And he gives it to you. Again. And again. Until the room smells like nothing but the two of you tangled in instinct and sweat and pleasure, until you lose count of rounds and the world narrows to the feeling of his body claiming yours until your heat finally, finally settles.
Rafayel collapses beside you, pulls you against his chest, and presses a kiss to your temple.
“Next time,” he murmurs into your hair, “just ask nicely, baby.”
黎深 ZAYNE LI
"breeding.”
—Is the last word you’d use with Zayne. much less ask for it. Yet here you are after his little pheromone outburst at the hospital. You’d lied about being a beta right from the beginning. Avoided the Akso hospital to get yourself checked, avoided Zayne half your high school after you bloomed late.
All because of one thing—like his evol, Zayne had a hard time containing his pheromones. and being a decently dominant alpha, his pheromones would often push omegas around him into heat.
As it did to you when you thought of visiting him to drop by lunch. The moment you entered his office, your knees weakened. Your stomach twisted in painful knots. and he—he had to rush you back home after learning everything. Even your unhealthy dosage of heat suppressants that you ingested each month because of him.
“I’m not leaving until you’re alright.” He kneels by your bed as you curl up in pain.
“s’not your f-faul-fuckinsonofa—” you breathe once as a cramp hits. “just leave. It’s—” a breath again “…fine.”
“untrue.” His jaw flexes. Adamant idiot. It’s the pain that makes your brain fry enough to forget all boundaries.
“breeding. Tha—aghh—! Is what’ll stop it.”
You don’t give him a chance to process before your lips are crashing with his. He freezes for a moment until he melts into it, slowly rising from the floor and onto the bed when you clutch his collar.
“there is a high chance this might result in unwanted—”
“I know. We’ll get me some pills.” You huff, guiding his hand to your soaked, hot cunt.
His wrist twists, catching yours. “are you certain?” his eyes are softer. Scared.
You nod. And then cup his face despite your womb internally punching you.
“of course.” With that, he pulls you on him, keeping you close, thighs against his knees.
His fingers find the edge of your panties, slipping through easily. Two fingers circle your entrance before pushing in. you grind on his lap. His hips lift for a moment, chasing that friction.
You whimper in pain and that’s what makes Zayne finally pull out his cock. Thick, heavy and so, sooo ready to ruin you.
But the moment you lift your hips to finally sink, your cramp hits.
“I’ve got you.” he murmurs, stroking your hair with one hand and the other guiding his leaky tip to your pussy.
Your hips roll once and you wince again. “stop.” His brows furrow in a silent correction.
“relax.” He murmurs as he eases into you, slowly, filling every inch sooo good that it has you whimpering. Your walls stretch around him inch by inch.
“zay—mmhh so—” your eyes roll back, mouth open.
He lets out a soft sound at the way you clutch around him so perfectly. Fit him like a fuckin glove.
His hips raise once. Testing. And judging by your already fucked out look, he thrusts harder this time. your nails dig into his shoulders as your own hips roll once the pain ebbs away giving way to molten pleasure.
Your walls flutter around him at each kiss of his cock to your overly welcoming womb.
“m’so close…” you whisper, burying your head into his neck, breathing in his scent that singlehandedly calms your pain. His fingers find your clit, rubbing taut circles on your swollen nub, smearing your arousal over it.
Your pussy keeps clamping around him tighter and tighter and tighter—
“c-cumming—ohhhmy—zaynee—” he fills you to the hilt, giving your syrupy, greedy walls something to milk.
And ohhh that you do. Enough to have him explode into you, filling you with hot ribbons of cum, making it cream around your hole—mixing with your honey.
He slowly sets you down are you come down from your high. But his cock is insistent. Still hard, still keeping you full of him.
“s’not enough—” your hand comes down to your stomach. But Zayne captures it, bringing it to his lips, kissing the inside of your wrist.
“then let me satisfy you.” He pulls back only to fill you up again.
Messy strings of his cum dribbles out of you, spilling onto the sheets. His hips move again, this time—pounding you.
Deep, looong strokes, each reaching the end of you and back out.
“hngh—m’too full—” you babble, moans stuck in your throat.
His hands part your thighs, hiking them up so your body can take him deeper if that were even possible.
Your walls flutter around him hungrily again with every deep thrust, your hips rolling on instinct as he fills you relentlessly. Strings of his cum mix with your arousal, dripping down the curve of your thighs, and the scent—his pheromones, his essence—wraps around you, making you all hot and coaxing you towards your orgasm.
“Zayne—mhh… s-so deep…” you whimper, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he keeps moving, slow at first, then harder. A cocktail that messes your brain chemistry.
Each stroke hits that perfect spot, and you sob, lost between pleasure and the ache that still lingers from your heat.
His hands move to your waist, holding you firmly, but gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, almost tender, brushing a strand of sweat-damp hair from your temple. “I wish I could control it—”
You shake your head weakly, lips parting in a soft moan. “S’not your fault… Zayne,” you breathe, tilting your head to kiss his jawline, tasting the mixture of him and yourself. “I’ve always wanted you.”
He groans softly at your confession, letting it wash over him before pressing back into you, hips snapping against yours with a fresh, deliberate force.
“cum for me, my sweet.” A kiss is planted to your temple. “please.” He adds softly as he reaches down to rub your clit, pushing you closer to your climax.
But he beats you to it. Breeding you full—once more—giving you everything you’ve begged for tonight. Still, he mumbles apologies, thrusting into you—pushing through his overstimulation. He nearly cries out when you cum around him for the last time tonight.
the steam in the shower is thick enough to hide in but sylus has a way of finding what he wants. he has you bent over his forearm, front presses up against the wet tiles, ass arched up high, and body slick with your body wash that he loves to use up so much. you’ve gone still as his thick fingers slip in and out of your sopping cunt, taking the time to prep you for his monster of a cock.
“you’re very quite now, sweetie,” he whispers, voice deep and low, and you can easily sense the grin in it. “where did all that big talk go?”
sylus adds a third finger and you find yourself struggling to respond, cheek pressed against the cold tile, eyes rolling back like he’d already fucked you dumb. “i’m r-right.... here,” you gasp, clawiing the tile. you hear him chuckle behind you, that deep rich laugh that has your walls fluttering against his fingers. “good. then pay attention.” he leans down and bites your shoulder hard, leaving behind a mark. you cry out, but before you can move, his large hand comes down to slap your ass with a loud smack, sting hot. “nngh... sy-lus! that’s gonna bruise!” you whimper, brows furrowing at the familiar sensation.
he laughs at your words. “then you’ll have a souvenir to see thorough i’ll be fucking you.” he slaps your ass once again, even harder to see the red bloom on your skin and your pussy pulse against his fingers. he retrieves his fingers and guides his cock to your opening, and with one brutal shove, slams all the into you.
“oh! g-god..syyy..” you sob, fingering scratching at the grout. he’s so big, pressing against your gummy walls to the max.
“still concerned about the marks, sweetie?” he grunts, hips starting a punishing, fast rhythm. because of the body wash and water, every thrust is slick, sliding in and out with a wet squelch. everytime his hips crash against your ass, it makes a heavy thud that vibrates through your body. sylus starts hammering into your sweet spot, hitting it so hard your vision starts to blur.
“mmmh.. a-ah! s-sylus.. too deep, you’re-!” you moan, your tight walls, clenching around his dick hard. he chuckles at your moans, cute, he thinks, before sucking down your nape, to bite your ear lobe.
“surely, i’m exactly where i need to be?” he mutters, his breath hot in your wet skin. he reaches around, pinching your clit down with his thumb and rubbing it in fast heavy circles while he keeps pounding into you from behind. the feeling is a total disaster for your coordination. you’are shaking, knees knocking together as the tight coil in your stomach builds up as his thick tip abuses your cervix.
“s-sylus, i’m-i’m gonna—come!” you whine out, voice like sweet music to his ears.
sylus hums, letting out a groan as he nears his own release. “look at me,” he commands, hand coming up to grip your chin and turn you toward him. tears are streaming down your pretty face as he presses a soft, sloppy kiss to your pouty lips. his grip on your waist tightens, thrusts becoming, shallow and frantic as presses tight against the obvious bulge low in your stomach. “give it all to me. now, sweetie.”
your whole body locks up. you scream as you fall over the edge, walls squeezing him in tight pulsing waves. the pleasure is so sharp, it makes your head spin. the coil stomach snaps, white hot cum spilling out of you. “good girl,” sylus grunts, driving in one last time before he spends himself deep inside of you, the warmth of seed filling you up.
making out with sylus is such a humiliation ritual because he’s the one to come up behind you while you work on something, his hands wrapping around your waist and letting you feel the warmth of his body as you’re pressed against him, but the second you show any kind of reaction, he switches to teasing and laughing at how easily he gets a rise out of you.
“what do you want me to do? use your big girl words”
you roll your eyes and try to walk away from him but he won’t budge, caging you in with his arms and laughing when he sees a flush rise up your neck.
even when you push him off with a swear, storming away and ignoring when he finds you lying on the couch, his heart swells seeing your pout and furrowed brows. he’ll try and part your legs to come between them, but you force them shut any time he manages to crack them open even a sliver. eventually he just picks you up and places you on his lap, thighs straddling his as he apologizes.
“c’mon…can’t have my pretty girl mad at me, what’s it gonna take?”
you continue to ignore him until he once again presses kisses to your jaw, moving his lips to the pulse point on your neck before you pull him back by his hair & finally talk to him again. “stop being such a dick”
he nods solemnly at your comment, placing one of your hands over the hard muscles of his chest as he ‘swears’ on your rule. you roll your eyes and push him back, glaring at the smug expression he wears. your fingers delicately trace his collarbones, hands climbing up and admiring the veins along his neck. he pulls you forward for a kiss, tongue running along the seam of your lips.
he explores the cavern of your mouth, lacing his tongue with yours and groaning at your taste. a whimper leaves your throat and sylus growls as he finally gives up on letting you have control, pressing you even closer with a hand against the back of your head and deepening the kiss as he begins to slurp on your tongue.
“taste so fucking good” he grumbles against your mouth. you want to respond but he pulls you back by your hair to expose your neck, letting him leave a trail of sloppy kisses. you move his hands to grasp your breasts and instead of gently massaging them like you expected, he rips apart your top and exposes you to him. your gasp sounds out as he immediately latches his lips to one nipple, pinching and twisting the other and relishing in the whines of his name leaving your lips.
he looks up at you, smirking at the way you try and press him closer. even when he pisses you off endlessly, he always gets what he wants, and you always let him.
A/N: im literally in my follicular phase and I wanted to write papa dragon sylus so here we are. I got my main inspo from @embetiee and this specific art of dragon sy and mc together 🥺— this is gnawing on my brain SO SO GOOD also @syynon literally begged me to tag me for this so rhehe there you go Sylus ovi is ITCHING MY BRAIN SO SO GOOD
Content warnings: eggnancy, egg babies to be, soft papa sylus and mama reader, pregnancy, fluff contents, don't like dont read (minors dni please)
Word count: 598 words
Divider by : @diviniyae
To say carrying a small clutch of dragon eggs is heavy, is an understatement to your current situation.
You huff, trying to find a sense of comfort in a nest made out of the finest silks and feathers collected by your most dearest husband, Sylus. Holding your heavy stomach with one hand, your tail swishing from left to right with agitation. Once you found a comfortable place to rest— near the center of the rest, beneath three layers of silk, you sigh with relief.
"There we go," You rub your swollen stomach, feeling the little ones move inside— how many eggs were you carrying again according to Sylus? Two? Three? The numbers seemed to blur in your pregnant brain,
"Now stay still. I need to rest before your father—"
"Yes?" You hear Sylus from outside, the deep rumble of his voice seem to wake up the little ones within you, making you groan with annoyance.
3 minutes and a half was the longest time you were comfortable until it was interrupted.
He enters the cave you both call home, carrying a new bundle of silk on one hand and game on the other. Setting both aside, he approaches you and presses a soft kiss on the spot in between the horns that have emerged as an exchange of souls and promise of eternity by each other's sides, before kissing the highest point of your baby bump.
"I was resting comfortably, and then you opened your mouth and woke up our children," You roll your eyes and look away.
Sylus laughs, cupping your cheeks to face him, "It seems like I've disturbed their slumber then…"
"And mine as well."
"And yours as well," Sylus repeats and kisses her again, "How shall I make it up to my sweetie?"
You hum for a moment, placing your finger on your chin as you push Sylus off to the side to readjust yourself once more. Sylus helps, placing one hand on your back and the other lifting up your stomach,
"Careful mama," Sylus whispers softly, his voice carries heavy with absolute devotion and care, "I dont want you or the little ones getting hurt."
Your cheeks flood a bright red as you try to look away. Sylus merely laughs and helps you along until you were comfortable once more, cuddled up beside him, his hands enveloping your growing stomach. He kisses your forehead and slowly makes his way down your face until he reaches your lips. He cups your face with one hand and asks, "May I?"
You nod and he kisses you, his lips felt like a comfortable and warmth fire that slowly brings comfort to your heart. You pull away moments later, smiling at Sylus. He smiles back and rubs your stomach, the eggs shifting lower inside you, "They'll be here soon…"
"Hmm…" You nuzzle close, "Sy, we're hungry, what did you bring?"
"Goat, shall that do?"
You hum again. Sylus gets up slowly, making sure to bundle you in silks that smell like him. "Get some rest, I'll wake you up once food's ready."
"Okay…thank you, my love."
Sylus approaches the nest once more and kisses her again, "I love you, my soul."
In the silence of their cave, the fires give a gentle glow around it, Sylus kept his eyes on the cooking meat, and occasionally at a sleeping you.
When the time comes, perhaps around late winter or early spring, the clutch of dragon eggs would enter the world and you and Sylus would call yourselves parents, but for now? Perhaps husband and wife will do.
A/n: tumblr posted it again BEFORE I CAN FINISH ADDING MY AUTHOR'S NOTE😭 I CANT BELIEVE I WROTE AND POST THIS ON THIS ACC PLEASE DONT KILL ME PLEASE DONT SEND BAD THINGS TO MY ACCOUNT
The first time you leaned in and kissed him, he felt like the entire world could burn down around him and he wouldn’t care. Since then, making out with you has become his favorite addiction. The way you melt into him, the little sounds you make when he licks into your mouth, how you grip his shirt like you’re afraid he’ll disappear,he can’t get enough.
Tonight is no different.
You’re straddling his lap on the couch in his private lounge, hands tangled in his silver hair while he kisses you deep and slow. His hands slide up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he pulls you closer. A low groan rumbles in his chest when you rock against him, unconsciously grinding down on the growing bulge in his pants.
“Fuck, kitten…” he murmurs against your lips, voice already rough. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
You whimper softly, kissing him harder, and for a moment it feels like you might finally be ready. His hands slip under your shirt, palms warm against your bare waist, thumbs stroking just beneath your ribs. He’s so hard it’s aching, straining painfully against his zipper, but he doesn’t rush you. He just keeps kissing you like he could do this forever.
Then you pull back suddenly, breathing heavily, eyes a little wide.
“Sylus… wait. I’m sorry, I-” You bite your lip, looking guilty.
He stills immediately.
His hands slide out from under your shirt and settle respectfully on your hips instead. Even though his cock is throbbing angrily between you, begging for friction, his expression softens.
“Hey,” he says gently, voice low and calm. “Don’t apologise. You never have to be sorry for that.”
You look down, cheeks flushed. “But you’re… I can feel how hard you are. I keep getting you worked up and then stopping-“
Sylus cuts you off by tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes. That usual smugness is gone, replaced by something warmer and tender.
“I don’t care if I stay hard for the rest of the night,” he says simply. “Or all week. Or all month. We go at your pace. Always.”
He leans in and presses a slow, sweet kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, much softer this time.
“You letting me kiss you like this already feels like winning the lottery, sweetie,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I can wait. As long as you need.”
Even as he says it, his cock twitches hard between your thighs, still painfully trapped and aching. He ignores it completely, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest instead.
You bury your face in his neck, relaxing into him. “You’re too good to me.”
Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle, though it sounds a little strained.
“Trust me, I’m not a saint. Right now I’m thinking about a lot of very filthy things I want to do to you,” he admits, voice dropping into a purr. “But I’d rather have you comfortable and happy than rush anything. This-” He squeezes your waist gently. “-is more than enough.”
You stay like that for a long time, you curled up on his lap, his arms securely around you while he presses occasional kisses to your hair and temple.
Later, after you’ve fallen asleep against his chest, Sylus finally lets out a slow, controlled breath.
He’s painfully hard, balls aching, cock leaking into his boxers… but he just holds you tighter, a small, satisfied smile on his lips.
Because even if it means blue balling himself every single time you make out, you’re worth every second of it.
His kitten is safe, comfortable, and slowly opening up to him
Disclaimer: Avatar the last airbender is owned by Nickelodeon Animation Studios, Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. This is simply fan work.
Author’s note: Please note that this fanfic takes place years after the show, though it might not be completely faithful to the comics and may deviate in some areas.
This is my first fanfiction. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated; I only ask that you remain respectful. God bless you all.
Chapter 1
“Hope you don’t mind a new roommate, Sparky!”
This was the first thing Toph said to Zuko when he met her at the palace gates to welcome her. The monarch was in the middle of a meeting with his council, when a guard came running in claiming a ‘loud, dishevelled woman in Earth Kingdom robes’ was at the gates demanding to see him.
Of course, Zuko knew who it was immediately.
Still, he was surprised. It had not been that long since the last reunion he and his friends had at the 'Jasmine Dragon'. To commemorate the glorious end to the Hundred Year War, the ‘Gaang’ (as Sokka insisted on them being called) decided they’d assemble at Iroh’s tea shop once every year to celebrate together. No matter what they had going on in their lives, they always made time for each other, especially on this day.
They had been through too much to ever become strangers.
He had spoken with Toph that day, and enjoyed sparring with her. It was hard to believe, but she had gotten considerably stronger when it came to her bending. Zuko hoped this upgrade was attributed to training and not dangers during her travels. From what he’d heard from Aang, Toph had become somewhat of a nomad these past eight years. While moving all over, with no particular destination in mind, she resolved to explore more of the world her parents shielded her from. For a time, Toph even wandered with what was left of the Freedom Fighters, now led by Smellerbee. Though she would occasionally visit her friends during her travels, she never stayed for longer than a couple weeks.
Zuko expected this stop to be the same.
Nevertheless, he was more than happy to receive her and promptly gave her one of the finest rooms in the palace. After months of having to deal with stuffy politicians and noblemen, tensions with the neighbouring Earth Kingdom, and his advisors’ constant insistence for him to marry, Zuko was stressed to say the least. Therefore, he was overjoyed to have his friend come to stay with him. And who better to cheer him up than the 'melon lord' herself.
Toph quickly made herself at home and after forcing Zuko to cancel his second meeting that week, she decided they’d spend their afternoon at the Palace Gardens feeding the turtleducks. This environment was Zuko’s favourite place to unwind. Not only was it a serene atmosphere, allowing him to relax after hours of hearing Lo and Li’s anxious ramblings, but it also reminded him of simpler times. Zuko wondered if his comrade knew the significance of this place or if it was just coincidence. Regardless, he was grateful to her for persuading him to come.
“You need to be careful with the babies or you’ll regret it,” Zuko warned Toph as she cradled an infant turtleduck in her palm.
“Why? What’re they gonna do?” Toph challenged, playfully.
“Trust me. I once made the mistake of throwing a whole loaf of bread at them, then one of the mothers came at me with a vengeance. They may look harmless but if you mess with them, they’ll give you a world of pain.”
Toph smiled widely.
“Heh, they’re just like me!”
“Exactly, like you,” Zuko acknowledged.
The two laughed and Toph finally placed the babe gently on the water, who then rushed to join its kin.
“Why did you throw bread at them, in the first place?” Toph asked.
“I was trying to be like Azula…”
“Why?!” Toph cried, shocked at his response.
“…I wanted to prove that I could be as strong like her. But then I learned that hurting others doesn’t make you strong at all. And of course, not to mess with a mother’s offspring.”
“Did you feed these guys with Azula?”
“What? No! I always fed them with my mom. It was my favourite thing to do in the palace back then.”
“Your mom? I haven’t met her in person yet. What’s she like?”
“She’s wonderful, Toph,” Zuko answered wistfully. “I’ll introduce you to her and Kiyi when they return.”
Kiyi, about to turn sixteen, wished to see Ember Island after hearing about Zuko’s childhood holidays there. She was, of course, followed by her parents who wished to celebrate her approaching graduation from the fire academy for girls. As much as Zuko wished to join them, the political tensions arising did not leave much room for leisure, let alone a vacation. As such, Zuko was forced to resist his little sister’s puppy-dog eyes and stay behind, though he promised to write to them whenever he could.
“What’s your favourite thing to do now?” Toph inquired, suddenly.
“Huh?”
“You said feeding the turtleducks was your favourite thing to do back then. What’s your favourite thing to do now?”
It took some time for him to answer.
“Hang out with you, I guess.”
Toph laughed. It was unclear to the Fire Lord if she was mocking him or was genuinely delighted at his comment. He knew she did not do well with sentimentality, though it was no secret that when she loved, she loved deeply. And she especially loved her friends.
“What’s so funny?” He asked, mildly irritated. If there was anything he hated, it was being laughed at. It reminded him of his deranged sister’s taunts. Then again, he could never stay mad at his companion, who was nothing like Azula, thankfully.
Toph’s laughter simmered to a chuckle. “Nothing. Chill out, Firecracker,” she quipped.
“Firecracker? You’re never going to run out of nicknames for me, are you?”
“Get used to it, Candlestick. I’m not going anywhere!”
actually, zuko being either lin or suyin's father makes the most sense?
especially lin's bc it doesn't make sense for toph to refuse disclosing her father's identity at the cost of staining their relationship if it was anyone else.
toph needed her freedom and wanted to be the republic city's chief of police while zuko was the fire lord and his family would have to follow rules. i bet toph didn't want lin to be confined in the palace the way she used to be as a child either.
revealing that lin was zuko's would complicate things for both of them, so she kept the truth to herself and then it was too late.
i know she mentions the father's name being "kanto," but i think it might be a code name they used for zuko at some point? bc again, doesn't make sense for her to hide his identity if he was a regular guy.
this theory lowkey works for suyin too, tbh. or it could be that suyin is sokka's and toph just didn't want to overcomplicate things by telling suyin who her father was and not lin. or if she said anything, then it would be unfair for sokka to know he had a daughter and not zuko. and if they all knew everything, then it would just not be comfortable.
#we need simulated endurance hunting for people like shit that's actually enriching for humans as a species#i would be so down for that. use this body the way its supposed to be used (tags via @falconheaded)
Do you have any idea how much I'd pay for a treadmill with a built-in persistence hunting simulator?? I would get on that thing every day
Let's Put the End in Friends | Jackson Wang (Part 2)
Part 1
The one where your best friend/sort of boyfriend really wants to fuck you.
Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, SMUT, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers
Requested: Yes
w.c. 7.8k
Warnings: reader is bad at feelings, jackson is in love, two horny weirdos, "begging" for sex (but not in a bad/manipulative way there's a mutual understanding ok), oral - fem!receiving (the man eats it like cake even after he hits), unprotected sex (don't do it unless you're best friends with Jackson Wang and I'm guessing you aren't), discussion of contraceptives, breeding kink sorta kinda heh, brief talk of having kids in future, banter, teasing, name calling, dirty talk, I think that's all?? they're still really annoying except just horny now
A/N: Ughhhh here's the part two that I desperately wanted to write and finally people requested it!! This chapter is like 15% feelings and 85% smut, but it's all kinda mixed in so I apologize in advance.
Jfc I love these two so much. If this is bad I'm sorry! I love writing where it takes me and it all felt right. I love my readers so much. <3
Requests: Open (link below)
In dramas, after a confession, things were usually a little awkward, shy, sweet. But the day after Jackson confessed to you, he nearly bit your hand off when you tried to steal one of his dumplings. Granted, you bit him first, but it was his job to be chivalrous, not yours.
“Um, maybe eat your own before you try to steal mine?”
“I’m literally just a girl, Jackson.”
A few weeks after said confession, things were still mostly the same, as you were awoken by someone pinching your cheek. Bleary eyed, you squinted, looking up at a very hot, very annoyed face.
“Where the hell is my academy sweatshirt? I’m gonna be late for my shift,” he huffed, giving you another pinch. Jackson worked part time at an MMA academy, teaching a class of young children. Unfortunately, that meant three days out of the week, he had to wake up at 7 in the morning to be ready by 8. And if he was up, so were you.
“I dunno,” you whined groggily, rolling over. “I didn’t wear it. Promise.”
“Liar,” he accuses.
“Mmn. ‘m not lying, check my laundry.”
You hear shuffling, the sound of your hamper being opened (filled with clean clothes, because dirty clothes go on the bathroom floor of course), and quickly tug the blanket over your head as Jackson calls your bluff.
“At least it’s clean,” you attempt to plead your case, but the covers are yanked off. You yelp as Jackson flips you onto your back and begins to tickle you.
“Didn’t wear it, huh? Seriously, of all my clothes?” he snarls, fingers digging into your sides. You can’t speak; you instead make animalistic noises of possession as you attempt to free yourself. You wrap your legs around his waist and shove at his chest, shouting apologies in between fits of laughter.
At last, the tickling ends, and you all but collapse against the sheets, sprawled out like half a starfish.
“I’m going to start charging you for the things you steal,” Jackson says, breathless himself from the efforts of torture. Only then are you made aware that his hands are on your thighs. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose, until you do, when he squeezes them beneath his palms and brushes his thumbs under your pajama shorts.
“Hey,” you warn, wriggling beneath him. He laughs and leans over you.
“What?”
“You know what. Get off of me.”
He sighs, letting his head drop down as though weary.
When he looks at you again, his eyes have gone all soft, and it makes you feel warm and tingly inside. You swallow and force yourself to look away. You weren’t completely immune to his charms and didn’t want to risk it, answering the question he hadn’t asked.
“Nope.”
That was the deal.
Kissing was alright—as long as it wasn’t too long or too deep. Touching was fine too, just avoid any erogenous zones. Truthfully, you weren’t sure why you’d placed such heavy restrictions on your…relationship? Whatever this was. Probably because at the end of the day, you were still terrified of losing him. Of crossing a bridge that crumbles behind you, never being able to return to where you were.
Right now, the two of you could still be around your friends, could still shamelessly flirt and insist it isn’t flirting. When you’d shown up to dinner with the guys, your hand clasped in Jackson’s to test the waters, no one said a word. Youngjae crinkled his nose and said it was cringe…and that’s it. That was the only reaction. The only people surprised about this development were the two of you, apparently, mostly you. And, you hadn’t realized how horny you were for one another.
When you’d stare at him after a shower, when he had the audacity to drink juice from the carton wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, you noticed that…you’ve always stared. That wasn’t new. It’s just that you were now aware of it, and also very aware of how it felt to see his throat working as he swallows, beads of water dripping down his chest and following the dip of his abs like a treasure map for your tongue—
But it went both ways, fortunately, as Jackson’s playful way of grabbing your waist when you were busily bent over no longer felt fun, but rather, made you want to push against him, feel his hands sliding elsewhere, because god had they always been so big? Had his fingers always been so long?
Presently, Jackson rolls his eyes and kisses your cheek. You refuse to look at him still, so he tilts down, where his lips brush your throat; when your head snaps up to scold him, he takes the opportunity to catch your lips with his, sighing as though relieved.
Kissing him feels so normal that it’s almost painful, like every second his lips are against yours, you ask yourself why you were so stupid, why you hadn’t noticed before, why you hadn’t understood that the feelings you’ve had for him were being confused for platonic when they were much, much closer to something akin to lo—
“Mmff…ou’re ‘unna ‘ee ate,” you mumble, though Jackson doesn’t stop kissing you. You giggle as your words are slurred by his mouth, which in turn makes him smile, which in turn makes you wrap your arms around his neck and consider begging him to let the kids down just this once.
You know he wouldn’t hesitate. So that’s why you groan and push him away. You squirm from beneath him before he can snatch you up, fixing your pajamas as though you were preparing to walk the red carpet. When you look up at Jackson, he’s on his knees on your bed, hands gripping the covers and head tilted to the side. Oh.
“Stop looking at me like that, puppy boy,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. You cross your arms, taking on the weight of the world’s strongest soldier as Jackson fucking Wang silently begs to bend you over the mattress
Jackson lets his legs slip over the side, feet planted on the floor as he tugs you toward him by the strings of your shorts. You whine in protest—losing a drawstring was so—
“I think you like it when I beg,” Jackson says, voice too low to be good for your health. You look at him in surprise, his expression hasn’t really changed, but why did he have to do this to you?
“I think you’re gonna be late,” you huff, feeling your cheeks redden.
“I think you’re cute when you blush.”
“I think—”
“I think we’re gonna be good for each other.”
“It was my turn,” you pout. “I think you need a cold shower.”
Jackson mumbles something you don’t catch as he nuzzles his face against your stomach. His arms hang loosely around your hips, and you’re once again left with emotional whiplash as the man somehow goes from fuck me~ to hold me in the span of a few seconds. You swallow and rake your fingers through his hair (which he pulls at less nowadays, thanks to your nagging).
“I want to,” you say quietly, nails scratching at his head. “But I’m scared. Like…we could probably bounce back from this, and from holding hands and even kissing. But I’m afraid that I’d never be able to, you know, not hurt around you the further we go if things turn out bad. We just don’t know what’ll happen if we commit. That’s scary.”
To your surprise, Jackson squeezes you tighter. He tilts his head back to look up at you, his chin resting just above your belly button.
“What is it gonna take, pie?” he asks softly. Your brows furrow, though he continues. “What’s it gonna take for you to realize I’ve been yours this entire time?”
Your breath catches in your throat; you know he can feel it from the way your stomach tightens. He noses at the material of your top, planting a kiss there. Then the bastard opens his mouth again. You can taste his words.
“You own me, baby.”
You wake up confused and sweaty, fumbling around for your phone. You grab the device and groan—it’s not even five in the morning, and it’s a saturday.
The dream woke you up. You and Jackson had an idea to conserve water, apparently, sharing a shower too small for one person let alone two. Your brain filled in the blanks for the missing information, unfortunately for you, though you had no doubt he was as beautiful in this reality, too.
It was almost impossible for you to go back to sleep after waking up usually, so you throw the covers off with much more attitude than necessary before quietly stepping out of your room. The light beneath Jackson’s door is off, and you tiptoe down the hall, but when you round the corner to the kitchen you gasp in surprise.
Jackson raises a brow at you, taking a sip from the bottle of water in his hand. He’s wearing nothing but black boxers, showing off the lean muscles he works so hard on. So very hard.
“You’re up?” he asks, and by his raspy tone it’s clear he woke up not long before you. You nod and shrug for no reason at all other than to distract from the fact that your eyes are eating him alive. He has the sexiest bedhead, and the thin chain he wears glints as it drapes over his collar bones.
“Thirsty,” you lie. You move past him to reach the fridge, but an arm hooks around your waist. You inhale sharply as you’re tugged against his chest, the warmth of him shooting tingles down your back. You swallow, and he holds the bottle in front of you.
“Here,” he mumbles. He sounds so casual, like his actions hadn’t just made your soul briefly leave your physical form. You take the water from him and tilt your head back for a sip, not having realized how thirsty you were until you’ve finished half of it.
You turn around, though he doesn’t release you, so you remain pressed to his bare chest. You have no idea why, but you lean forward and kiss him just below his collar bone, realizing too late how cruel you were being. In an attempt to make it chaste, you kiss the other side, right above his heart, though Jackson’s hand flies to your hair. He cups the back of your head and refuses to let you move.
“Jackson,” you protest, but he whines.
He fucking. Whines.
“Please, pie. Just keep your lips on me. Please,” he breathes. You exhale a shaky breath and nod.
“Okay,” you say quietly, and you swear he sighs with relief. You watch his face, tilting in again and pressing another kiss to the same spot as before. Jackson nods, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips.
You kiss the center of his chest, lips dragging over his skin to his left pec. When you move a tad bit lower, this time where his heart beats, he hisses and tightens his grip in your hair. You gasp for all the right reasons, though he doesn’t know that.
“Fuck, sorry,” he whispers as though the two of you are sneaking around rather than doing…whatever this was in the middle of your shared kitchen. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you giggle softly. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”
Jackson looks down at you, his expression morphing completely into…calmness? But it still puts you on edge.
“What’d I say?” you ask with a frown.
“I haven’t had sex in almost a year,” he admits.
You blink.
“You…what?” you breathe, shaking your head. “But, you’ve had tinder…you’ve gone on dates.”
Jackson pulls you close again, silently asking for more kisses. You realize he might’ve been right…you like when he begs. You kiss him as he asks, this time close to his nipple, and he shudders.
“I’m not gonna fuck a girl who wants more than I can give her,” he says. You mouth over his skin, tongue reaching the edge of his areola. You like his answer.
“Why can’t you give her what she wants?” you ask, knowing what he’ll say but wanting to hear it all the same. Jackson knows this too, but he’s more than happy to give you what you want.
“Because she—fuck—”
Your tongue lathes over his nipple and he grips the counter tight.
“—’cause she’s not you,” he finishes. “None of them are. Can’t be anything for anyone except you. Wanna…wanna be everything to you.”
“You are…you are…” you mumble carelessly, barely kissing him, but rather rubbing your mouth on his chest. He seems more than okay with that, his head falling back, though he shakes it.
“I’m not, baby. I’ve got so much to give you, gonna show you what it’s like to be loved right, fucked right, needed right. I need you, y/n. I-I fucking need you so bad. Always have.”
You were supposed to be turning him on, not getting choked up, but you pulled back and covered your face. Jackson was still a little breathless and out of it, but he grabbed at your wrists.
“Sorry, fuck, was that…was that bad? I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” you mumble, wiping helplessly at tears that slide down your cheeks. Jackson pulls you forward, crushing you to his chest. He wraps both arms around you so tight you can barely breathe. You love it.
What else do you love?
You love that you can feel his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh, that you can feel how much he wants from you. You swallow your tears and reach between you, your palm finding the thick outline beneath his boxers and squeezing.
Jackson’s reaction is visceral and downright sinful. He jumps, then buries his face into your hair.
“Again, p-please,” he mumbles. You do it again. There’s a weird mix between sadness and horniness between you, but you keep going, sliding your hand up and down his clothed length. He’s definitely thick and a little longer than average, but not frighteningly so.
Thick enough to make you choke, but not enough to bruise your cervix. Perfect. Somehow, you think you know exactly what it feels like to be fucked by him.
“Jesus fuck—I don’t care if I get to fuck you, just please…let me taste you, baby,” Jackson grunts, hips lazily bucking against you.
That…sounds alright with you. You take your hand off his cock and grab his wrist to pull him to his room, but he twists you around so that your back is to the counter. You open your mouth to ask what he’s doing, but the words die on your tongue when he drops to his knees.
“J-Jackson, you don’t have t-to…”
“Shh, baby,” he mumbles, cupping the backs of your thighs. You feel dumb, forgetting how to speak. “Let me make you feel good. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make when you play with yourself.”
Your cheeks flush pink, Jackson’s words hardly registering in your brain. He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your pajama shorts, leaning forward to kiss the front of your thigh before he begins tugging them down.
“W-What do you mean when I pla—oh…”
Jackson doesn’t hesitate, going face first between your legs and groaning. The vibrations ring through your inner thighs and go straight to your clit, nearly sending you down. He hadn’t even touched you properly yet.
“If you tell me you didn’t want me to hear you fucking yourself, I’m gonna call you a liar,” he whispers. His lips graze over the hair you keep trimmed—you could be a little self conscious about that at times, a couple past partners even commenting on it, but Jackson is worshipping your pussy without words and you’ve never felt so perfectly adequate.
You think over what he said once you regain a little bit of consciousness. And fuck.
You were tired of this sort of hindsight ability you had now, the way you felt when you thought back to the times you were so obviously head over heels in love with him and had convinced yourself you were friends.
Like fucking yourself with your favorite toy, back to the wall splitting your rooms. Moaning loud even though you didn’t do that when he wasn’t home.
“S-Sorry,” you whimper, because what the fuck else are you supposed to say? You feel warmth as Jackson breathes a laugh against your thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin near your labia.
“It’s okay, baby. Just do it again for me, hm? While I’m in the same room at least?”
Did he have to be such a fucking brat? You thought “pie” and his attitude would disappear after all of this, but you were sorely mistaken. You opened your mouth to complain.
Jackson pushed your thighs open wider, settling between them and looking up at you from his knees. You squeaked, and the last thing you saw before his face disappeared was that smug grin underneath his pretty brown eyes.
You learned two lessons very quickly. One:
Jackson Wang ate pussy like his life depended on it.
And two, you were immediately jealous of any woman who’d ever had him like this, on his knees between their legs. This should be illegal.
His tongue slid between your tender pussy lips, expertly finding your clit and daring to flick at it beneath the hood. Your knees did buckle, but he hugged your thighs and kept you upright, taking the opportunity to squeeze and knead at your ass. You reached down and gripped his hair for purchase, tugging, eliciting a groan from him that felt better than any dick you’d ever had. You did it again, and this time he practically sang praises into you—he was literally fucking you with his moans.
“Jesus fuck, Jackson?” you ask, unable to do much else other than feel and squeak out your needs. His fingers dug into the plushness of your thighs, though one hand slipped beneath your shirt. His thumb grazed over your nipple before gently pinching it, and you were ready to die.
When he sucked the tender flesh of your clit into his mouth, you stumbled forward, nearly sending him back until he caught you by the waist. You whimper and tug at him to let you go until finally, he pulls away from your cunt, looking far too pleased with shiny lips. He licks them and you fall into his lap, shuddering as you cling to him.
“That bad, huh? Should I keep my day job?” He teases you gently, one hand cupping the back of your head while the other hugs you tighter. You can still feel his cock straining against his boxers, nearly perfectly aligned as it presses against your ass.
“S-Shut up, a-asshole,” you stammer out, gripping his shoulders tightly for comfort—or maybe dear life. Jackson chuckles in a way that makes you feel safe and annoyed—because how can he send you to fucking space and then try to convince you it’s all good and dandy with the same mouth?
“You okay baby?” he asks softly. When you nod, he pulls back enough to kiss your temple, though keeps his lips there. You swallow, having a feeling that he wasn’t done with you. Not even close.
“Was it good?” he asks.
“Very c-classy,” you manage to huff, but Jackson only laughs.
“Mmm. Knew you’d taste good. Knew you’d love me on my knees,” he hums. You shiver, and he moves to your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Knew you’d look so pretty while I eat it.”
You let out a soft whine, your hips rolling into his. You’re spreading your sticky juices along his clothed cock, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he grabs your waist and bites his lower lip.
“Are you done? Hm? Or can I take you to my room and finish you off?” Jackson asks, tilting his head to kiss below your ear. “Lay you down and hold you open until that pretty clit is nice and swollen…”
“F-Fuck,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “N-No.”
“M’kay, need me to run you a bath then? I bought some new bath bombs—”
“No I meant…” you breathe, letting your head drop to his shoulder. You were dizzy, but your thoughts had never been more clear. Not necessarily a decision out of desperation, just…it needed to happen. You needed it.
“I-I don’t want you to eat me out, Jackson,” you say as you swallow.
You lift your head, relieved to see there’s no frustration in his gaze, no disappointment. God, he’s really just here to make sure you’re happy, safe, comfortable.
“I want…I want you to fuck me.”
“Why are we in your room?”
“My bed is bigger.”
“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”
“I don’t know, pie. When’s the last time you washed my sheets?”
You crinkle your nose, but Jackson just rolls his eyes. He drags you onto the bed with him, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it in your face. You sniff, your eyes immediately narrowing.
“Have you seriously been washing your bedding regularly now under the implication that we’d fuck soon?” you hiss, sitting up to glare at him. He was sprawled out, looking much too happy for your liking.
“Yes,” he says gleefully. You grab the pillow and make an attempt to suffocate him, but he doesn’t fight back, and that’s not very fun.
Oh yeah! You’re also only wearing his a t-shirt, and he’s only wearing boxers, and his cock is very hard and you’d very much like to put it in your mouth now that you’ve recovered somewhat from his tongue.
“You’re such a boy,” you groan, throwing the pillow back to the headboard. Jackson nods, tugging at the hem of your shirt.
“Yeah. Take this off and sit on my face please,” he hums, lying back as though preparing to be sacrificed to the thigh smothering gods.
“How romantic,” you scoff.
“Come sit on my face so I can make you cry the only way a man should make a woman cry, please~”
“Better.”
With the back and forth out of the way, you can’t bring yourself to smile, pulling your knees to your chest. Jackson sits up, reaching out to take one of your hands in his large one.
“Hey, no expectations, remember? You wanna stop right now, we’ll stop and never do anything like this again. You want me to finish you off, that’s fine too,” he says, thumb brushing the back of your knuckles. You shake your head.
“No. I think…I think we should. We need to, I mean, otherwise we’re gonna be in limbo forever. But…” you pause, feeling your eyes burn a little damn it. When you look up at him, his boyish charm is gone, replaced completely by a concerned man who almost looks in love with you.
“Hm? What is it, pie?” he asks, coaxing you gently. Ugh—why did sex have to be so god damn complicated?
“Promise me,” you say, biting your lower lip as you gather your words. “Promise me if we hate it, if it’s bad, just…stay with me? Like, forever? Please don’t move out? I mean if you have to get married just try to find someone who’s nice enough to let me stay? I’ll do the laundry. We can be like a throuple except you both just have to feed me and nothing else.”
“I love you, y/n.”
“Nevermind, let’s just do it.”
Jackson laughed as you flopped onto your back, though he leaned over you and caught your chin in his hand. You avoided looking at him, but he tilted your head down and pressed his forehead to yours to prevent you from escaping his eyes.
“I know you’re allergic to that word—”
“I am not—”
“But I love you. I love y/n and I love pie and I love the girl who thinks ‘coinkydink’ is an appropriate alternative for ‘coincidence’—”
“It is but okay—”
Jackson rolls his eyes, cupping your cheek under the romantic guise of making you shut up by pressing his thumb to your lips.
“Do you know why I want to fuck you?” he asks, his voice oddly gentle for such an erotic question. You blink, he lifts his thumb.
“Um, ‘cause I’m hot?” you offer with a shrug. His thumb goes back to your lips.
“Yes, but the truth? I want to make love to you but I assumed your reaction to that phrasing would be…”
Jackson lifts his thumb.
“Cringe?”
“Correct,” he smiles. “I’m gonna do what I can so the next man you meet has to climb to fucking heaven to reach the lowest bar for you. I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’ll be damned if you leave my bed able to call your best friend and complain that your inner thigh got more action than you did.”
You pout and push his hand away.
“That was one time,” you mumble. “If sex with you sucks, who am I gonna call? Yugyeom?”
“I dare you to fucking try,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. You beam, attempting to boop his nose, but he leans forward and kisses you instead. “If you leave this bed and hate me after, I’ll move out before sunset. And if you want me to l-o-v-e you for the rest of your life, I’ll do that too. I told you, pie. I’m yours.”
You kiss him this time, turning into him and cupping his jaw. Why couldn’t he see that the more of this he showed you, the less you wanted to risk it all disappearing?
You tilt your head to the side, nuzzling your face against his throat to plant kisses there. He inhales, leg sliding between yours as a hand strokes your hair.
“Mm…what do you want, y/n?” he asks, groaning when you suck beneath his jaw.
“Wanna suck you off,” you mumble against his skin, relishing in the heavy groan you feel from him. “Then I want you to fuck me.”
“I can do that,” Jackson nods, licking his lips. You release him and sit up, looking over his stretched out form. He was so fucking gorgeous, and you were in his bed.
You place a hand in the center of his chest, and Jackson sits up on his elbows, his thighs parting eagerly. You giggle, gently kneeing his side.
“Patience,” you hum, dragging your hand down to his abs, letting your fingertips dip between the muscles. You remembered all those times you fantasized about drawing your tongue against them—realizing you can. So you throw a leg over his, sliding down until you’re hovering over his thighs, face level with his hips.
One hand rests on the elastic of his boxers while the other palms his abs. You look up at him as you drag your finger through the lines, following the shape of his muscles. He’s tense, but still coherent, so your other hand slides down to palm him again.
Jackson curses under his breath, eyes never leaving yours. So you lean down and flatten your tongue below his navel. He gasps as you lick down the thin trail of hair that disappears beneath his boxers, kissing the sensitive skin there before moving up again. Jackson whines, and you lift a brow.
“You’re not being very patient,” you say, kissing his stomach before licking up to his chest. Jackson’s head falls back, one hand moving to your hair.
“It’s been almost a year, pie,” he groans. “Want this…want you…”
You giggle softly. When you palm him again, curling your fingers around his constricted length, Jackson practically flies off the bed, grabbing your wrist.
“Baby, I will let you suck my cock until the sun explodes, just…please not now, I’m so fucking close, wanna be inside you…” he breathes. You’re surprised to see his chest flushed and heaving, not having realized how worked up he was over just a few light touches. You swallow and nod.
He smiles in relief, pulling you in for a kiss before sitting up on his knees, gently guiding you back. It’s a little jarring, suddenly being underneath your best friend, but Jackson immediately gives you gentle kisses, whispering your name and promises to make you feel good. You believe him.
You lie there awkwardly as he reaches over you to the bedside table, removing a foil packet. You feel your cheeks redden, which makes him chuckle, and you mumble a quiet shut up. When he holds the condom packet between his teeth and thumbs the waist of his boxers, you realize that you should probably be naked, too. So you cross your arms over the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it over your head and tossing it to the side.
The condom drops and bounces off your thigh as Jackson’s lips part in shock.
“What?” you mumble shyly, bringing your arms to your chest. He clears his throat and fumbles for the condom, shaking his head.
“Nothing. You’re gorgeous. Knew you were, just..." he sucks in air through his teeth.
You blush harder, resisting the urge to tell him to hurry.
Jackson manages to slide his boxers down to his thighs. His cock, once freed, smacks his toned stomach and you grip the covers at your sides as you watch an enticing bead of precum slide down the shaft. It’s exactly as you’d imagined; a little bigger than average, thick, and so beautifully veiny. God it’d feel so good on your tongue, but later. The idea that, hopefully in the future you could suck his beautiful cock whenever you wanted to, made you happier than you’d ever admit to anyone.
You watch as he rolls the condom down his length, swallowing down your doubts as he drops to his forearms on either side of you.
“You okay?” he asks, no humor, no teasing, just genuine concern. You nod and lick your lips.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” you say with a shaky breath. Jackson smiles, leaning forward until your noses bump. The action makes you giggle until you realize he’s fitting your mouths together, and suddenly he’s kissing you.
It’s gentle and soft, his lips sucking at your lower one but moving no further than that. Your arms move to loosely hang around his shoulders, where both of his slip beneath you. You feel the head of his cock brush over your clit and jump. Jackson chuckles. It happens again, but this time, the swollen head catches against the opening between your folds, and you can already feel the stretch, wriggling your hips as if to wedge him in.
Jackson begins to push.
The stretch is slow, heavy, delicious, both of you releasing sounds of relief with eyes rolling back into your skulls as though you’ve both spent four years pretending you don’t want this. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he squeezes you tight beneath him as he sinks deeper and deeper. At last, his hips meet yours, and Jackson Wang, your best friend, is balls deep inside of you. You squeeze your eyes closed, overwhelmed by the sudden and intense sensations and emotions.
“Are you okay? Feels okay, baby?” he asks softly, clearly restraining himself. You nod, licking your lips.
“Mhm. It’s good. So good,” you babble. Jackson chuckles, nodding as he kisses you again. It’s sweeter this time, moreso as he begins to slide out. The drag of his cock makes you shudder, and you clamp your thighs tight around his waist.
“That’s it,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Lock me up inside you, baby. So fucking pretty.”
You purr in response, arching your back. Jackson takes this as a go ahead, pushing himself up to his palms as he begins to fuck you properly.
You feel your mouth open in shock as he thrusts rhythmically, the switch between emptiness and fullness making your head spin. Every time his hips smack the backs of your thighs, another grunt escapes his mouth, and fuck if you couldn’t listen to that sound for the rest of your life.
Jackson leans down and kisses you. This time, you make sure it’s not as sweet, sucking his tongue and letting him lick yours. You taste his groan as he bucks heavily, pausing to collect himself. Your legs hook around his waist, heel digging into his lower spine, making him moan.
“F-Fuck baby, gonna make me come already,” he breathes, letting his head hang down. You smile, cupping his face and pulling him into you.
“So sensitive,” you purr. Jackson huffs.
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” he hums, wincing at his own sharp thrust. “Maybe I should pull out and leave that gorgeous head to wonder what it’d be like.”
“You won’t,” you reply, calling his bluff. “If I begged you, I bet you’d go raw.”
Jackson surges forward, hands moving behind your knees as he folds you nearly in half. You choke on air and look up at him, wondering why the fuck you've forced yourself to wait for this.
“You don’t have to beg for shit. Don’t fucking tempt me, y/n.”
Your mouth opens at his tone, but he begins to fuck you harder, gripping your form against him as he gives you everything he has. Your whines turn into muffled cries as he tucks your face into his shoulder.
“Shh…let’s not let the neighbors know I’m finally inside you baby…that’s it, quietly…take it for me, yeah?” he hums, and you whimper, digging your nails into his skin. Your legs bounce uselessly where he holds them in place, giving him room to be flush against your ass each time he bottoms out.
“Can’t wait for you to let me lick this sweet little cunt until you cry,” he murmurs, leaning back to slip a hand between you. You jump when he immediately finds your clit, index and middle finger repeatedly alternating pressure. He’s a god damned expert, and you feel yourself clenching tight around the obstruction of his cock.
“Fuck…is that all it takes? You’re squeezing me like a fucking vice, y/n," Jackson groans. “More, baby. That’s it…fuck. So fucking good.”
“J-Jackson,” you huff, squirming beneath the pressure of his weight. “Nng…f-feels so good…”
“Yeah, princess? Just like you've dreamed about?"
Fuck. He always knew, knew you too well, were you made of glass?
"Y-yeah," you whimper, choosing not to lie. "B-Better."
Jackson kisses you again, his hand slowing its movements to match his hips.
“Show me,” he says roughly, obviously close himself. “I wanna feel you cum, baby. Want my cock shiny and sticky like my tongue was.”
“Mm..don’t stop, ‘m close,” you breathe. You tuck your hands into his hair, tugging at the strands, knowing what kind of response you’d experience. He groans, as expected, though pulls back and pushes your thighs apart.
He looks down at your cunt swallowing his cock whole as he rubs at your hooded clit, cursing and biting his lip. Your cheeks flush despite everything, and when his eyes flicker to your face—you’re not sure what to call that expression if not love.
You want him to cum first. You bring his hand away from your clit and up to your lips, kissing the wet pads of his fingers before slipping them into your mouth. Jackson lets out a high pitched noise that you can’t wait to tease him over later as he watches you suck them.
He swallows and leans forwards, pulling your fingers away from your mouth to kiss you. You think it’s an accident, the intimacy, but the kiss is soft, so soft that he stops thrusting and you stop trying to make him cum, so soft that you’re suddenly crying and hugging him and apologizing for being a fucking idiot.
“Hey, ‘s okay baby, I’m here,” he whispers, his own eyes wet. “Stop crying, y/n. I’m right here. I’m yours. I’ll still be yours tomorrow. Shh...”
“I’m so fucking sorry,” you breathe, burying your head against his throat despite the fact that his cock is kissing the opening of your cervix currently. “I was scared, Jackson, so fucking scared, I-I think I loved you so much that I scared myself into thinking I couldn’t.”
“Huh?” he asks, knowing damn well what you said according to the stupid grin on his face. You roll your eyes, using the back of your hand to wipe at your tears.
“I said I love you, asshole,” you whisper, sniffling. “And ‘m not gonna say it again.”
“Okay,” he chuckles, pulling your hands down to wipe your tears himself. “Fine. I’ll just memorize the way you sound when you say it and play it over and over until we live in a nursing home together."
"You roll your eyes, smiling through the teariness. Only you would cry in the middle of sex, but Jackson seemed to love this, taking it as your not-so-silent confession.
He eventually shifts again, making you shudder despite the fact that he was only getting comfortable. He prepares to ask—you already know—want me to stop? So you shake your head before he gets the words out.
“I want it, you know, without,” you say instead, shyly looking up at him from your elbows. Jackson looks a little confused, and you sigh, gesturing around as if that’s helpful at all. “You know. Without.”
“I have no idea what you’re saying, pie—”
“I’m saying I want you to fuck me, and then I want you to tell me you love me so I can say it back without dying, and then I want to go to the pharmacy with you and get plan b even though I’m on birth control because we’d make cute babies but I wanna wait like 10 years probably. So, like, without? If you want?”
You finish your monologue, your cheeks burning hot. You flop to your back and cover your face, once again forgetting about the cock buried inside of you. Jackson doesn’t, of course.
“Are you asking me to hit it raw—”
“Must you be so unromantic—”
“Shut up and c’mere,” he mumbles. He leans down, pulling you up enough to kiss you. You feel him shuffling between you, embarrassed by the gasp that slips out when he pulls back. Jackson smirks. There’s a snap of rubber and he winces as he removes the condom, tossing it into his desk trash can.
“Easy, baby. He’ll be back,” he chuckles.
“I’m actually going to kill you,” you groan. But then he’s pushing into you again, and fuck if the look on his face doesn’t make you want to buy a first class ticket to hell.
“Fucking…jesus…baby…” he gasps. You giggle, though he just pushes you back to hide the apparent blush on his cheeks.
“That bad huh?” you mock him, feeling him bottom out, completely. He curses and dips his head to kiss you, but it’s messy and desperate and feeds the fire that’s been burning inside of you for too long.
“So fucking…nng…so fucking pretty,” he says with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasp, clinging to his shoulders as he leans down. He kisses you again, hard, palms flattening on the bed on either side of your hips. He uses the leverage to fuck you harder, leaning over you until you’re pinned beneath him.
“D-Didn’t know it’d turn you into an animal,” you giggle breathlessly, hand fisting his hair. He groans and tilts his head to the side.
“You turn me into a fucking animal, baby,” Jackson grunts. “Makes me…makes me want to do stupid things, like fuck you without a condom and cum so deep the pill doesn’t do shit to stop it—”
“Jackson—”
“You said it first. Still gonna make you swallow the pill with my cum dripping down your thighs.”
You squeak and tug him down for a filthy kiss, tongues barely missing the mark as his thrusts become loose and sloppy. He’s fucking himself dumb, gripping the sheets and whining against your mouth like a dog.
“G-Gotta make you cum. Gotta make it good for you,” he breathes, reaching between you. You pull his hand away, shaking your head. He begins to argue but you squeeze your thighs around his waist, making him shudder and stumble. He falls against you, cursing into your hair as he continues his thrusts.
“Want you to cum first,” you whisper, hugging him tight. “Want you to fill me up like you said, so fucking deep—"
He groans, leaning on you and thrusting heavy as he snaps his hips forward. His speed remains the same, but you can hear the sound of his hips meeting your ass like he's trying to bury himself in you indefinitely.
"T-That's...fuck..." you whimper, nodding. "Good, that's good."
“Ah…ah…” Jackson whines, shaking his head. “F-Fuck, baby…gonna cum, is that…is that okay? Fucking…ah…c-can I cum?”
Oh. Oh.
You were going to explore this later, him asking permission to cum. But not now.
“Please, Jax. Please cum for me, in me?” you beg softly. “Promise, I’ll take it so good."
“Fuck, I know you will, princess. Know you’ll take it all so good for me…so perfect, so fucking beautiful…all mine, baby…”
Jackson clings to you so tight you have trouble breathing, but you feel him shudder, hear him gasp, and you squeeze him back just as much. He releases a sob into your hair, his muscles tensing as he cums hard. You feel his cock pulsing, the warmth spreading inside of you, and realize with a start that you’re feeling his actual cum seeping into your womb.
You rub his back for a few minutes while he recovers, until he finally sits up and hisses at the sensitivity of his softening cock still buried in you. When he tugs away, it’s your turn to gasp, shivering at the cool emptiness you feel.
“Was that okay?” he asks quietly, hands pushing your thighs apart. You nod.
“Yeah, ‘s good. What are you—shit.”
Jackson knelt between your legs, lips first kissing your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. You all but scream, trying to clamp your legs together, but his easy strength prevents that.
“F…Jackson...fuck, w-what are you doing?” you whimper again, trying to push yourself up to look at him. He uses a hand on the soft of your belly, pushing you back down. He pops off of your clit, free hand taking over the strokes.
“My babygirl didn’t cum. I’m gonna make sure she does,” he explains as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“B-But you…your cum…”
“Mhm, keep reminding me,” he moans, tongue slipping beneath the hood of your clit while two long fingers prod at your sore hole. You wince, but he slowly eases them in, his own cum working as lube. Rather than move them, he holds them there, gently stroking inside of your walls while he laps freely between your labia.
In a frighteningly short amount of time, you’re coming off the bed (literally) with a cry of surprise, mumbling his name over and over again as though he could save you from the crushing pleasure you felt. Your thighs clamped around his head, though he made no move to escape, apparently right where he wanted to be as it allowed him to continue sucking and licking the sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs trembled violently.
It stole your breath, and you saw stars, mixed in a few moments later with a boyish grin and someone peppering your face with kisses. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, definitely if you were comparing him to other men. Well. There was no comparison.
You could only imagine how it'd feel with his cock as deep as it was. Next time. You'd suck his cock, cum on it...maybe make him beg to do the same.
Jackson is patient enough to wait until you’ve mostly returned to your body before he smugly proclaims that he was right, the sex was great, and you owe him a backrub (don’t you usually have to make bets to win them in the first place?) but whatever, because you were fucked out and your boy was happy and probably planning your wedding.
But once you attempted to sit up, wincing at the soreness of keeping your legs open, Jackson kissed you sweetly and urged you to lie down again. He left for a few minutes, returning with boxers (darn it) and a bottle of water, which he forced you to sip whilst he ran you a bath.
You were helped down the hall, feeling like a frail old lady after you insisted you could do it—and had to catch yourself by the doorframe as you walked like a baby deer. You informed him it wasn’t polite to laugh at people you’ve nearly fucked to death, regretting your words immediately as a somehow cocky Jackson became even cockier.
He guided you into the bath, telling you to relax while he ran to the pharmacy. Before he left though, he knelt beside the tub, fingers tapping at the lava-like water you were soaking in.
“Do you like the smell?” he asks, resting his chin on his fist. You nod, letting your fingers find his and trying to pull them beneath the water. He compromised by pulling yours out, kissing the back of your knuckles. “Good. It’s strawberry scented.”
“Fucking me doesn’t make my bath bombs free real estate,” you say pointedly.
“Fucking me doesn’t make my clothes free real estate.”
You open your mouth, then purse your lips.
“Touche.”
“I have something to ask,” he sighs, resting his lips on your hand. “It’s really important.”
Oh god. What.
“Yeah?” you ask, your voice shaky. Jackson grins.
“Just…did you like my cream, pie?”
You stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating the last hour and four years of your life. “I want a divorce.”
“I love you.”
“How…how long have you thought of that joke?” you ask. You didn’t really want to know the answer.
“Um…about 20 seconds after I called you pie for the first time? Not with you of course.”
“Well why in the god damn hell not with me!?”
“I mean? Yes with you?”
“Creep.”
“I love you.”
“I still want a divorce.”
“I still love you.”
“Nng.”
“That means I love you in worm?”
“...Yeah.”
“Heh~”
“Hey Jackson?”
“Mm?”
“Your lil sperms might be kinda fast? So like? Maybe leave now? I do love you but I will not have your babies right now?”
“Oh. Yeah. Be right back. Try not to make a baby with those in the meantime, they’re not ripe yet, you know?”
A/N: so, as I was sick today I decided to mess around on Pinterest. I have had a creativity spur lately(or I’m manic ). Either way as I was coming up with Avatars for my vrchat account (when i eventually get a PC & learn how to make avatars) . I have saved ideas and concepts I want to do. As such i eventually got to one of my favorite fandoms avatar… the blue aliens not the elemental benders. As such my brain running on full serotonin said “ hey let’s hyperfixate on what our personal na’vi avatar would look like”. At first it was very much tied to my cultural background(s) which I will not say. Eventually until I came upon OC’s that other people have made. Beautiful ones mostly from the clans we currently know about and the game. Then I found “ Ice/snow” na’vi people. This was a concept I never even heard or thought of before. Now majority of my culture is based in warm or by the ocean areas African or Native American. So I stuck to what I knew until I got the idea. Well what if my na’vi person was almost the complete opposite of me. Then I got the idea of creating myself as a snow/ice na’vi instead of the ocean or desert one I was originally thinking. This got my brain pumped on ideas! Next thing you know I am deep diving into as much information I can dig up. I love avatar but still there’s information I don’t know so a lot of research and hyper fixation later. I have come up with not only a story idea. But an entire storyline,characters,and world building of a na’vi snow clan. Ofcourse influenced by a combination of tribal cultures that mainly live in frozen tundras. Also a few Native American influence/african influence because this is what I know best.
Anyways…. As such I am going to write a story delving into this idea. None of what I wrote is canon but majority is developed from what I could gather on pandora & na’vi. Pure fiction from fiction. Please be nice for my first chapter written at 4 AM! I will be editing & updating. But for now here’s some concept photos & the title.
Avatar Pandora fanfic: The Taiga of the hidden clan Huyutikaya
By.dawnjaco
Location: taiga a hidden village in a frozen tundra. The northern part of pandora
Main characters: The Huyutikaya the viper wolf spiritualist
Oare Taha : previous known as Dawn back on earth. Human turned na’vi. Originally employed African American female one of the first to have a fully functional na’vi avatar body. Currently Tsahìk of the hidden clan.
Kajika Taha : means to “walk without sound” Original name classified. Husband to Oare with more secrets than the hidden village. Human turned na’vi origin and original rank also classified. Currently Olo'eyktan of the hidden clan.
Two children: newborn baby girl Nyota(star) & Tsamsiyu Son Iniko(meaning born in a time of trouble)
it has been eight days since he felt your lips on his skin. it was driving him insane.
and it was all because he beat you in kitty cards. he can clearly recall your pissed-off expression as he beats you for the seventh time in a row. it wasn’t his fault that the kitty cards god blessed him.
but clearly, you were beyond reason as you declared that he won’t be getting kissed until you cooled off.
sylus thought nothing of it, thinking that it would only take a few hours and some coaxing until you relented, only to be mistaken as you intentionally dodged every attempt at a kiss.
first, it was you pushing his face away, then it turned to you avoiding his touch, and now, you were flat-out avoiding him.
enough is enough. sylus thinks to himself as he marches to your shared room, throwing open the door before stopping in his tracks.
you were on the bed, wearing his shirt, hands holding a crow plushie that was smothered in stains, with your lips as the imprint.
“well,” sylus stood in front of you, his arms crossed against his chest as a frown played on his face. “what do we have here, kitten?”
sylus looks closer, seeing that the shades differed. all shades varied from the ones you wore the past week.
you were kissing the plushie every time you wanted to kiss him.
sylus was pissed, not at you. never at you. but at the thought that he could’ve been on the receiving end of all your kisses. and based on how the crow was covered in kiss marks, he could’ve been kissed by you a lot.
you say nothing, sylus steps forward to grab at the plushie, flinging it to the side of the room with a careless flick.
“you’re telling me, that you have been wasting your kisses on an inanimate object, when i’m right here?” sylus invades your space, you let him.
his arms cage your body as your back meets the soft bedding.
“don’t you think that it’s time to end your cruelty, hm?” sylus eyes the smudged glittery lip gloss on your lips as it parted.
“syl—” he cuts you off, a soft kiss on your temple.
“you’ve deprived me, kitten.” he mouths, tracing your cheek to your neck, sucking a small mark.
“won’t you end my suffering?” he places one last kiss on your chin before he pulls away just enough to look at you.
he was waiting for you to make the first move. he wants it, needs it to be your move.
you try avoiding his gaze, but his hand comes up to lift your chin.
“please.”
how could you say no when you had the fearsome leader of onychinus beg for a kiss?
you reach to pull his face down, lips meeting yours. you can feel him exhale out of relief as he kisses you back, gently at first, then the week’s worth of craving for your taste gets the better of him as he kisses you deeper, his tongue peeking out to trace your lips.
you pull away, needing to breathe, but sylus pushes down his body weight on yours, trapping you underneath him.
“not yet.” he huffs out, his pupils dilated, ruby eyes bleary. he dips down once more to capture your lips, his hands reaching to intertwine yours as he holds it above your head. he pulls away to whisper, voice raspy.
“we have a week’s worth to make up for, sweetie.”
note:yearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner!sylusyearner just give him a kiss damn
a/n: this is one of my few longer fics in a while, but honestly, I couldn’t resist diving into all those dramatic Sylus moments. There’s just something about his hopeless romantic vibes and over-the-top mood swings that I love to write so here we are! Thanks for sticking with me through his emotional rollercoaster. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed bringing this messy, dramatic love story to life. <3
It was day 12. The first week had been bearable. Video calls every night, your sleepy voice teasing him. He’d smiled, genuinely smiled when you called him “Boss-man” in a fake serious tone, just to make the twins laugh.
But now the entire house was dead silent, too silent. Not a single note played from the vintage record player nestled in the corner of his office. No familiar crackle of vinyl, no strings swelling from his favourite piece, not even the slow, melancholic piano track he usually let play when reviewing reports. Just silence.
Sylus sat behind his desk, eyes flicking over business deals without truly reading them, fingers motionless on the keyboard. The untouched vinyl on the turntable had finished spinning twenty minutes ago. He hadn't even noticed.
Luke passed by the office, did a double-take, then slowly backed up and whispered over to Kieran. "He's not playing anything. Not a single record. I think something's wrong." Kieran’s voice came through, hushed and slightly horrified.
Inside the office, Sylus exhaled quietly and leaned back in his chair. His gaze flicked to the corner where your favourite record sat on the shelf, the one you’d danced to in this very room when he first played it for you after a mission. You’d spun around in his oversized button-up shirt, laughing and dancing.
But now… The video calls had stopped and were instead replaced by short text messages.
[Kitten 💌💍]
Safe. Will message again after. I love you. ❤️
And then silence. Twelve hours. Sixteen. Twenty. Today, the only thing he received was:
[Kitten 💌💍]
Alive. Compromised zone. Will explain later. Love you
Short. Blunt. No video calls, no update, but still ending with “Love you.” That alone had kept him functioning for the last thirty-six hours.
He exhaled through his nose, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough to remind him how tightly he’d been holding it all in. His fingers were already flying across the screen.
'I miss you more than I can say. Come home soon. I’m making your favourite curry tonight.'
He hit send. Then, without a word, he pushed himself up from the desk and walked to the record player. Click. The familiar static crackled to life, followed by the opening notes of your favourite piece, the one you always swayed to, even when you were too tired to stand properly. The music filled the room, soft and slow, as Sylus leaned back against the desk, arms folded, eyes closed.
“He’s... smiling.” Luke leaned forward, squinting. “Wait, is that? Oh my god. It is. It’s the real smile after so many days. The one where his eye twitches and everything.”
“Yeah,” Kieran muttered. “She must’ve messaged.” Luke stepped back dramatically, hand on chest. “And just like that… the boss-man sleeps again.” Kieran nodded solemnly. “It’s official. She’s his emotional support.”
Around 8 PM, Luke and Kieran crept into the kitchen just in time for dinner and to their surprise… in front of the stovetop, Sylus stood in a cloud of fragrant steam, apron tied around his waist, sleeves rolled up. His voice floated out dramatically. “Coriander. That was the missing touch. She always said I forget the coriander…”
Luke whispered, “Oh no, he’s full domestic spiral.” Kieran nodded. “It’s happening. Husband Withdrawal Syndrome.”
Sylus ignored them, humming softly under his breath something low and vaguely romantic as he moved from the stove to the bench, plating food with way more care than was necessary for a Tuesday night.
“You okay, Boss-man?” Luke tried. Sylus sighed deeply. “I’ve cooked this dish fourteen times with her, and now it’s my first time cooking it alone.”
Then, Sylus began plating not one, not two, but four full servings. Each, neatly arranged and there, at the end of the row, he pulled out your favourite plate, the purple ceramic one with a matching spoon and favourite glass on a lace coaster.
The twins slowly realised he wasn’t just making dinner. He was making dinner for you. Even though you were still in Skyhaven, even though you hadn’t called in three days, even though the curry would be cold before you could even read his last message. He sat down across from your plate, gazing at it fondly. “Eat well, my love,” he whispered toward the empty seat… and then took a bite like he was eating your memory.
The twins just quietly grabbed their food and walked backwards out of the room. “Do we check on him tomorrow?”
“If she doesn’t call soon, we’re gonna find him slow dancing with Mephisto.” Luke snorted
As Day 22 approached, everyone around Sylus knew better than to linger, unless they had a death wish or a bulletproof emotional shield. The last guy who tried small talk nearly got his wrist dislocated for asking how he was.
Sylus wasn’t even supposed to be in Linkon that long. It should’ve been just one meeting, a quick intel swap and then home. But the moment he wrapped things up, his legs took him straight to that café, the tiny one tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop, the one with your favourite tiramisu. Back when you were still dating, he used to sneak away during business meetings just to see you there. You'd always order raspberry tea and pull him down by the collar the second he sat, pressing a kiss to his cheek like it had been weeks instead of days. Now? Now it had been twenty-two. Twenty-two days.
And the only person he wanted to eat with was off fighting wanderers and dealing with energy fluctuations near Skyhaven, only able to send him short little updates like, “Still breathing. Also, I accidentally broke my bracelet 🙁.” So, yeah he was tense.
The bell above the café door chimed softly as Sylus walked in, shoulders tense, jaw tight. Luke and Kieran followed a few paces behind, both moving with the caution of men escorting a ticking time bomb in a public space. “He hasn’t said anything in ten minutes,” Luke whispered. “Yeah,” Kieran muttered back. “It’s too quiet. Something’s brewing.”
Sylus headed to the usual table, the one by the window where he and his wife used to sit every time they were in Linkon. He didn’t speak, just stared out the glass like it had personally betrayed him.
And that’s when he saw them. A couple across the café, laughing, sharing cake and holding hands across the table. The guy even tucked a loose strand of hair behind the girl’s ear and leaned in to kiss her temple.
Sylus froze. His brow twitched, then furrowed; he locked into an expression Kieran privately referred to as "emotional storm warning.” Luke’s eyes went wide. Kieran whispered, “Oh, no. He’s about to”
Luke stepped in, gripping Sylus’s arm. “Boss-man. No. Deep breaths.” Sylus scowled as he continued to glare a hole just staring at this couple. Luke snapped. “We’ve been over this, other people are allowed to have relationships!” Sylus crossed his arms like he was being personally wronged.
They ended up grabbing takeaway and heading out of the café before Sylus could start burning everything down. He was still sulking, the paper bag with an extra slice of tiramisu dangling from his hand.
But then, Kieran stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes went wide. “Wait. Is that?” He gasped. “Miss Hunter.” Luke spun around. “No way. Are you sure?”
Sylus rolled his eyes. “Very funny. What is it this time? A cardboard cutout? A hallucination? Mephisto wearing her hoodie?” But before Luke could answer, a familiar voice called out behind them, “Sylus!”
He barely had time to turn before he felt it, your arms, wrapping around him from behind, locking him in place like a heartbeat he thought he’d lost.
Sylus blinked once. Then slowly turned around in your arms, still holding the café bag, like he’d just been punched in the chest by joy. “You’re here,” he said softly, like the words might shatter if he said them too loudly. “I’m here,” you smiled. “Mission ended early. Figured I’d pick up some dessert before heading home, but it seems like you got here first”. Sylus dropped the tiramisu bag and crushed you into a full embrace mid-sentence.
He didn’t answer; instead, he just kissed you. Hard. Desperate. Like he had something to prove. One hand still cradling your jaw, the other wrapping firmly around your waist as he pulled in closer, pressing every inch of himself into that kiss like you'd been air and he’d been drowning. Your fingers curled in his jacket as you kissed him back with just as much heat, standing on your toes to match his intensity.
Luke audibly cleared his throat. Kieran turned his back around. “I am not paid enough to witness this.” Sylus pulled away just slightly, forehead still pressed against yours, his voice low. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“End a mission early?”
“Come back looking that pretty. I nearly passed out.”
You laughed, brushing your thumb along his cheek.
Luke muttered, “God, they’re so married.” Kieran sighed. “Yeah. But at least he’s not threatening to stab people for mentioning their partners anymore.”
“Home?” you asked.
“Home,” he smiled back.
But not before one more kiss, this time softer, slower, and just for you.
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