#| ❛ biting into the sun until his body is flooded. ❜ ( answered. )

[charliemwrites]

Greater Bad - Part 5!

This is the final chapter of this series. I had so much fun working on it, making myself write a character that was genuinely just really mean most of the time and not chickening out by softening him (mostly).

Again, a gigantic, smooch-filled thank you to ceilidho for letting me write this based off her drabble/concept.

(The concept comes from @ceilidho’s concept/drabble of “military asset Soap” and heavily inspired also by @391780’s Nikto version. Please go check out theirs because they’re brilliantly written.)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con Elements, Unreliable Narrator, Semi-Safe/Not-Sane/Dub-Con Intimacy

You still smell the same.

Clean water, soap and skin. It saturates the back of his tongue when he inhales deep. The sharp, cloying scent of printer ink has been replaced by the buttery aroma of bread and sugar. It’s better. His mouth waters, canines too big and sharp in his mouth, jawing aching to bite down until he’s teething on bone. Scrape his imprint into marrow.

Some shrink mentioned it in those first sessions, before Laswell and Price realized their precious Johnny wasn’t lost in the hole in his temple.

The human olfactory sense is strongly associated with our memory. What smells like home to you, Soap?

The jagged puzzle of his mind didn’t have a piece for home. But it had one for his – you – and that’s just as good.

The humidity in the shower leaves him drowning in the scent of you, lungs heaving. If they’d waterboarded him with your perfume, he wouldn’t have struggled at all.

“Easy, easy,” your voice derails him.

Velvet and smooth, purring in the bottom of your throat. It bounces off the walls and cracks across his skull, a concussive force, disorients him. He grips tighter to keep his balance, swaying into you. You’re all slick and soft, caught between his body and the wall, nothing but naked skin and those big eyes that drive him more mad.

His face is still buried in the vulnerable curve of your neck; you taste just as good as you smell. You jump when he nips, a high noise caught on your clumsy tongue. He growls, wants to hear it. Wants to be overwhelmed by you until all his senses are blown out.

“I’m not saying no,” you soothe, hands skittering down his biceps.

Of course you’re not, not his girl. It’s not a matter of yes or no, not for the two of you. The moon doesn’t agree to orbit the Earth, the sun doesn’t choose to shine. You’re the gravity keeping his feet on the ground.

“Slow down a bit,” you murmur, “We’re not in a rush, are we?”

Just hearing you say “we” sends his heart thundering double-time and euphoria flooding his poisoned veins. “We” - you and him. You squeak as he thrusts hard against your lower stomach, where you’re pillowy and perfect from a life of plenty.

He doesn’t even process what you’ve said for a few moments, too busy nibbling “we” into your shoulder. Only when you thread shaky fingers into his hair – too excited to keep them steady, sweet thing – does his head surface over the swelling waves of desire to hear you properly.

“Missed you,” he explains, raking fingers over your thigh in hopes it’ll bruise. Your mouth parts on a gasp, inviting him in. He ravages your mouth, teeth snagging your plush lips. Needs to leave his mark everywhere for always. Don’t you get that? How could you ask him to slow down when your skin is still pristine, your cunt all tight and unspoiled – a fucking tragedy that.

“Ye missed me too, aye?” he asks. Of course you did, of course. Made this pretty little cottage for the two of you, filled it with so many things that he could never forget where he is again.

“I ken ye did.” He does you the favor of answering, since you’re too busy with his fingers in your mouth. You’ve gotten better with your priorities since that first reunion, laving your tongue over and between his digits rather than waste it on idle chatter. “Can go slow once I show yer mine. Been too fuckin’ long they kept us apart, little bird.”

Your fingers curl around his wrist. Must be satisfied with how wet they are, then. He presses down on your tongue one last time before pulling away.

“B-but you took care of them… we don’t need to—ah!”

He smirks as your entire body jolts. You’re already starting to warm up, but your saliva makes the slide between your delicate folds even easier. You’re just as silky as last time, clit shy at the top of your slit. He coos in your ear, gets you flushing and hot from filthy promises.

“Ye wan’ this just as much as I do,” he growls. Poor thing, he knows you like your little games and he’s being impatient. But it’s been too long and you’re playing with fire. “I ken ye do. Tell me ye do.”

You stutter in shock – if he still felt guilt, he’d feel bad for doubting you – and stumble over your words. He stills his hand to help you, bracing his arm over your head. The stretch of his body seems to distract you, mouth parted but frustratingly quiet as your round eyes roam scars and muscle.

He clicks his tongue and pinches your clit to catch your attention. You yelp, little nails sinking into his chest. He rumbles. It feels good, but he’s on a mission.

“Tell me,” he repeats when you blink up at him. “Tell me.”

“I-I just want to be able to go again,” you babble. “If I’m too sore…”

He chuckles. Is that all? “That won’ stop me, love. We’ll go plenty.”

You whine as he draws tight circles over your clit, coaxing it hard and swollen.

“I d-don’ wanna be t-too… sore! Christ!”

He huffs, caught between amusement and exasperation. Voice of reason you are, he knows you’ve got a point. Big as he is, and he knows he’ll lose any sense of restraint once he’s inside.

“I’ll make it good, bonnie,” he promises, biting kisses along your trembling jaw. “You’ll cum crying if tha’s what it takes.”

With that matter settled, he drops his head to your pretty tits. Water has beaded all over them and he jealously licks paths between each drop, flattening his tongue over your hard nipples. You moan and squeal as he sucks and nips, teasing them sensitive and achy. One of your hands tangles in his hair and tugs. Tingles race down his spine, scattering any sweet thoughts of going slow or gentle or with restraint.

You’re babbling at him but nothing could be more important than the rosettes he’s biting into your breasts. And you must agree because you’re getting so wet, leaking all over his rough palm, bucking your hips. He tilts the heel of his hand for you to grind against while he prods at your slick little hole.

You really have been good, somehow even tighter than he remembers. Of course, you were; he never doubted you. No wonder you were so insistent on prepping. He’d split you in half as you are now – fuck but that’s tempting.

“S-Soap – John. Please don’t… stop.”

“I won’ stop, birdie,” he soothes. Nothing could make him stop now.

Two is probably too much for you, but he loves the punched out little noise you make when he forces them in. The way your entrance clings and squeezes around his knuckles. How your spine goes tight and stiff, tilting your head back so that he has access to your singing throat. Pretty face all scrunched up as you struggle to adjust, stinging too much to even squirm. A flighty little bird right in the palm of his hand.

You’re so hot and wet inside. Feel fucking heavenly. Coating him in arousal, in need. His cock is aching to replace his fingers, feel you strangling him down to the base. Grinding against your thigh isn’t tiding him over anymore.

“Yer hand,” he grits out, “on my cock. Now.”

You shudder and circle the head, fingers tentative. Little tease.

He thrusts his fingers into you hard in retaliation, hips driving into the loose tunnel you’ve made. You must know what you’re doing, goading him on like this, plucking at his fraying patience.

“More,” he snarls, “or I’m going to use you like a fleshlight.” (Sooner than he was planning, anyway.)

You whimper and close your hand tighter, rubbing your thumb just under the head. Relief makes him generous, scissoring those two fingers inside you, easing you open. Lets you grind your clit on the meat of his thumb.

He crooks his fingers and finds a spot that has you mewling all sweet and precious. Does it over and over just to get your hand squeezing rhythmically around his shaft, precum dribbling over the back of your knuckles.

Christ, it’s been so long that he thinks he could blow just from this. Your voice in his ear, drooling pussy wrapped around his fingers, grinding into the open circle of your hand. But he needs to be inside you when he cums, he has to.

You don’t even seem to notice the third finger until it’s halfway inside, prying you open. Your legs buckle, knees shaking. He catches you with an arm around your waist, but it squishes you against his chest, the arm you’ve been stroking him with nearly immobilized. He can only stand the lack of stimulation for a few moments, occupying himself with his tongue down your throat.

“Enough,” he rasps, kicking the shower off.

Dazed, you blink at him in confusion, half-lidded and guileless, panting. He wants to fucking ruin you.

You yelp as he scoops you up, fingers still slippery where they grip your thigh. He croons as you cling, asking in a high, nervous voice where he’s going.

“Poor thing, dick’s not even in yet ‘n yer all addled.”

The dripping head of his cock grinds against your sopping slit as he carries you back to the bedroom. He remembers how much you liked it before – and you still do, your blunt little teeth buried in your bottom lip as you whimper.

It’s still dark, the crescent moon no use to your weak eyes. Like hell you won’t look at him when he finally claims you proper.

He slaps at the wall switch, a tiny lamp flicking to life across the room. You’re bathed in soft golden light, deep shadows swimming where it doesn’t reach. You and him, gold and black, light and dark.

He eagerly lays you out on the blanket, drinking in the marks decorating your upper body. You even have teeth prints on your arm that he doesn’t remember putting there – fetching, though.

You wiggle further up the mattress, and he follows, flashing a grin as he plants his hands on either side of you. The size difference is stark like this, the breadth of him subsuming you. Safe, tucked away, all his. Your breathing is loud as he bullies his way between your plush thighs again. You have to spread them so wide just to accommodate.

“Lemme see,” he says, voice barely leaving his chest. “Lemme see her. It’s been so long, baby.”

He can already tell you’re about to start up the fussing again – so shy, his little bird, but he’ll get you singing nice and loud now. No more of this demure chirping facade. You both know what you really are.

You squeal as he forces your thighs up, far enough apart that you babble that you don’t bend that way. Of course you do, though, you’ve just done it. Not that he really hears you by that point.

No, all his attention is on that gleaming, puffy pussy. So fucking pretty. Sticky and throbbing, your hole hardly showing the stretch of three fingers. Dripping as he watches, a dewy glob of arousal sliding down the seam of your cunt, towards your ass.

Just the slightest shift and his cock is nestled between your folds, the glans chafing against your hot clit. He measures the depth of it against your abdomen, head cloudy on the nervous whine that eeks from your throat.

Even with prep, he might break you anyway.

He hopes he does. Break you around him, shape you to him so that no one else will fit – not that anyone else will ever get the chance.

It’s not a conscious thought that gathers saliva on his tongue, purses his lips. You jump when he spits, rubbing the head of his cock through your combined fluids. Your cunt looks good in white. Like a bride.

You’re too needy, wiggling with nervous anticipation. He has to hold you down while he sinks into you – poor thing too blissed out to control yourself. One hand around your wrists above your head, the other pinning your hips at an angle to drive in as easily as possible.

One snap of his hips, and he’s buried to the hilt. You cry out, shuddering and dry sobbing. His vision goes spotty with the pleasure of it, your little pussy squeezing. You’re so…

“Fucking perfect.”

He shushes you, unable to bend to kiss you without making the stretch worse. Settles for rubbing circles into your hip, twisting to lace your fingers together. Now that he’s finally, finally where he belongs, it doesn’t seem such a monumental task to muster some patience.

“B-big,” you whimper. “You’re t-too big. I d-don’t – I can’t…!”

“You already are,” he coos, “little girl taking this fat cock, I’m so proud. My girl is so brave, my little bird. Bonnie lass.”

He’s rambling now, a dirty stream of consciousness. But that primal urge to fuck you open and loose and stupid is already clawing at him again. The tight clutch of your cunt calls for him to break you in, mark you up on the inside. Claim you as his irrevocably.

You feel him drawing back, eyes flying open wide. Writhing, half-formed protests on your tongue - that you’re not ready, that he’s too big, that it still hurts.

As if that’s any reason to stop, when anything needs to sting a bit to leave a lasting mark.

“Only way to make it hurt less,” he reminds, burying inside again. This time he rolls his hips, grinding the head of his cock along your satiny walls, against the hard barrier of your cervix.

Whatever you’re about to say is swept off in a wave of moans, washing over your wet tongue and down the back of your too-empty throat. Every time you try to gather them, he fucks back into you, hard enough to bounce you up the bed before he tugs you right back down.

Eventually you give up on doing anything but keening for him, massaging his cock from root to tip in those twitching walls. You loop your legs around his waist, ankles locked at the small of his back, knees squeezing against his ribs.

“Tha’s it, love,” he slurs, “jus’ take it.”

He lets your wrists go to clutch at both of your hips, angling them as he straightens his back. On the next thrust you scream, curse, throw your hands up to brace against the headboard. Smart girl.

His restraint unravels with each thrust until he’s pounding into you, slamming the bedframe into the wall. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your skull, jaw loose, spilling pathetic, weepy “ah, ah, ah” noises in time with his hips. He’s not going to last long at all. Not when you feel so goddamn good, finally claimed.

He presses his thumb against your clit and grins wickedly as you thrash. Tears leak from your unfocused eyes. You babble incoherently as he rubs a little rougher than he should, but your walls are sucking and clutching at every centimeter of him, so he doesn’t stop.

Even when you seize up, back bent into a sharp arch, clamping down so tight that he goes lightheaded.

“Soap! John… John it’s too much,” you sob. “John – Johnny!”

His orgasm blindsides him, makes him fuck you so hard that something in the bed cracks. In the haze, he flattens you to the mattress while bucking into you, not taking any chance of coming unseated. You whine in his ear but go limp, resigned to his cock spurting at the entrance to your womb – as deep as he can get – your cunt milking him for every drop.

He comes back to himself when you tap weakly at his hip, uncoordinated.

“Hm?” he asks, a little miffed that you’re disturbing his afterglow already.

“Hard to breathe,” you squeak.

He huffs. Alright, suppose he can understand that. Besides, he wants to see you.

And what a sight you make, splayed out and shaky on pleasure. Sweat at your hairline, lips swollen and bitten. He can still feel your pulse against his cock.

He sits himself up, eyes trailing down to the place where you’re joined. His cum is already seeping out a bit at a time, a thin creamy ring around his still half-hard cock. You keen a bit when it twitches.

“Pretty girl,” he coos.

You groan softly, flopping an arm over your glassy eyes as he pulls out – slow because he’s reluctant to leave.

But the sight of your slick diluting the milky white of his cum is too much to resist. You jolt at the first swipe of his tongue, react much faster than he’s expecting. Flip onto your front and try to scramble away. He growls at his stolen prize and pounces.

Under normal circumstances, you’re no match for him. Trembling and spent like this, you don’t stand a chance.

He grabs your calf and yanks you back, chuckling at the helpless stretch of your arms. You try to plead your case, but he’s hearing none of it. Plants his hand against your back as he shuffles onto his stomach, your thighs over his shoulders, knees digging into muscle. He tilts your hips with his other hand, thumb fitted in the crease of your pelvis, and brings you to his mouth.

Your struggling has made more spend leak out, and he laps it all up hungrily, tongue flat and ravenous. Sweeping from clit to hole to gather any stray droplets, even skimming over the tight furl of your ass. He licks into your loosened hole, high on pride at the difference he can feel his cock has made.

“’S too much,” you wail, “J-Johnny, please. I-I can’t, it’s…”

In retaliation, he slurps loudly at the fresh arousal blooming across his tongue. You hiccup, try one last time to wriggle away. He can’t have that.

You shriek as he fucks two fingers into you, voice thick with a fresh wave of tears. But you stop trying to escape. He doesn’t show mercy now that you’re behaving, coaxing more out, licking around his own knuckles. When he sucks at your overstimulated clit, you jerk and whine.

“I’m – I’m gonna… feels… w-wait, wait!”

It’s too late. He’s already laved his tongue over your trapped clit, crooked his fingers. You cum again with a shout, wetness splashing across his mouth, chin, down his neck. He groans, deep and rough in his chest. Doesn’t even give you a moment to recover before he pulls away, licking his lips.

“Do tha’ again on my cock.”

You’ve learned better now though – you lay there like a good girl as he stuffs you full again. Even better, you keep rewarding him with your soft cries of pleasure.

You really are made for him.

--

He likes the couch you picked. Not very big, but cushy. Besides, the two of you don’t need a lot of room anyway. Not when his lap makes a perfectly good seat for you.

You’ve been quiet all morning – probably still waking up from the coma he fucked you into. Eating babka from his fingers, licking them clean between bites. Docile and sweet, melting against his chest with your face tucked against his collarbone.

“Sore?” he asks.

“Mhmm.”

Your sweet little voice is all hoarse and soft. He’d coo if he didn’t think he’d be pushing his luck with skin so close to your teeth.

“Maybe I’ll massage you later,” he offers, smirking at the grumpy little “hmph” he gets in response.

He encourages you to sip a bit of water before your voice emerges again.

“What happens now?”

He doesn’t pretend to misunderstand the question.

“Now I get the life I’m owed,” he answers. All that fighting, suffering, bleeding, dying – and for what? A hole in his skull and his own goddamn people thinking he’s a monster. Even you, at first. You’ve learned, though. He’s sure of it. The rest can swallow bullets for all he cares.

“What if they come back?” you ask.

He hums. “Might contract with someone. Not opposed to killin’ on principle – just sick of doin’ it to someone else’s tune, aye?”

“Wh-what… what about…”

What about you. Poor thing, afraid Laswell and her ilk will snatch you up and dangle you in front of him again. Or worse – some other sod drooling for a slice of heaven in the pits of hell.

He doesn’t loosen his grip even when you shift a bit – needs to feel you in his hands.

“Got a plan for that, don’ you fret, little bird,” he soothes. “Still got one friend, I think. Jus’ gotta find ‘im.”

You exhale slowly, accept another piece of babka. “We’re stayin’ here, though?” you mumble around the mouthful.

He chuckles. Sweet little thing.

“Worked so hard on the place, might as well. Don’ care so long as I’ve got my bird, aye?”

“Mm.”

“How ‘bout a kitty, eh? Get ya somethin’ to keep ye company when I’m away.”

You swallow audibly. “I wan’ a dog. Big one.”

He chuckles. “’Course ye do. Aye, love, a big fuck-off dog to keep ya safe.”

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[ratcash-wasgud]

Beach episode with loser!Mizu,,,, she's lurking under the shade while everyone else is out in the water having fun like the- well loser she is

i love beach episodes!!! wahhh!!!! (i know basically nothing about beach culture btw)

i think this will be the last loser!mizu for a while guys (a couple days, until i realize i can't write anythinng else, and crawl back to my pookie). I have so many unfinished drafts ugghh.

mdni :p

+audios !! okay enjoy.

You and Mizu have gone to a couple of "dates", which all were just hanging out at or around the aquarium. Oh, and you once came to watch one of her games, but that's it. It's a very confusing relationship in Mizu's eyes.

For a while she already thought you two were dating, but Akemi quickly educated her on the wonderful world of talking stages. That day, Mizu decided that talking stages were her worst enemies. How are you not her girlfriend yet? It's not fair.

Akemi and Taigen only seen you once, and they were both intoxicated, and Ringo hasn't even met you, only in passing, so it's obvious they'd want to meet the person their grumpy friend is spending most of her time with. So Akemi arranges a beach hangout, and starts bugging Mizu about bringing you along, with "Come onnn, don't you wanna see her in a bikini?" typa comments.

Mizu, even though the last time you hung out with Akemi and Taigen it turned out very much embarassing to her, gives in after a while.

After a brief text exchange which Mizu floods with horrible memes, just to ease her own anxiety, you say yes, and now here we are.

Mizu is setting up her little fortress of peace in the sand, which is a big, soft blanket with a parasol guarding her from the sun. Her usual shades sit on her nosebridge. Her choice of swimwear is made of a pair of dark blue swimming trunks with rubber ducks all over it, and a bikini top that looked eerily like her usual sports bra. You on the other hand were...running late.

Ringo sat down next to her and offered her a muffin from the big bag he packed full of food, while Akemi and Taigen started to splash eachother in the water.

"You're more quiet than usual." Ringo comments with a slight smile, munching on a muffin himself. Mizu sighs and takes a bite of hers.

"It's stressful." She says with a shrug. "We're close, very close...but somehow not close enough. Like...how do you ask someone to be your girlfriend?" Mizu says to her bestfriend, looking up at the big guy from under her shades.

Ringo purses his lips as she stares ahead, thinking about it. "Say..."Will you be my girlfriend?" I think that would work." Mizu facepalms.

"Well, yeah, obviously, dumbass." She says, throwing her head back with a groan. "But the other stuff. Like...atmospehere, timing, mood...and how do I know she likes me enough to make that step?" She rambles. "It's obvious I like her, I told her I loved her once! What if she thinks I'm desperate? I mean, yeah I am...but I don't want her to know."

Ringo looks back at her, like she just confused his little brain even more, which she did. "Then wait for her to ask?" He suggest, and before Mizu could answer and tell him that it would be a terrible idea, because what if you never ask, you arrive, almost on cue.

You are...indeed wearing a bikini. And Jesus Christ, Mizu's breathing almost stops alltogether. Yeah, she slept with you once, and saw more intimate parts of your body than your belly button and cleavage, but this is different. You have your heart shaped sunglasses covering your eyes. She remembers those glasses, and she can feel her stomach twist in a not-so-bad way. She gives you sublte little wave as you approach, but before you could get to her, Ringo raids you.

"Woah, hey! I'm Ringo! You must've heard a lot about me from Mizu, since I'm her number one friend! I'm sure we'll get along great!" He chirps excitedly. Mizu needs to hold back the urge to burry herself in the sand and never come out. But to her surprise, you just laugh.

"How charming! Hey to you too, Ringo." You shake his nub. Mizu noticed that you find a lot of things cute and charming that Mizu would find cringe or lame. Maybe because you're more easy going. You walked to Mizu's little fortress, and offered her a smile. "And hey to you, hermit." You chuckled, kneeling on her blanket. Miz could feel her heartbeat fasten, having you so close. She should've gotten used to it by now, but she was convinced she never will.

"Hey." She said with a small, almost unnoticalbe smile. "You look...good." She complimented you, her gaze falling to your breasts for half a second, but her shades were keeping her safe.

"Thanks. Got this one just a week ago." You say, slightly pulling at you bikini top's strap. "You don't look halfbad yourself." You say playfully, then grab a beachball from the mountain of bags placed next to the blanket. "You know how to play?" You look at Ringo, then back at her. Ringo nods enthuistacally, and Mizu shrugs. Of course she knows how to play. She is in the school's basketball team, she is very good at ball games, but she needs to stay humble. That's hot, right?

"We need one more player though to make it even." You say, and just like that, as if smelling a challenge, Taigen appears.

"Well, lucky for you," He starts, putting his fist on his chest. "The champion has arrived." Mizu rolls her eyes, and you just gasp dramatically. Akemi sits down on the blanket. "You go ahead, I'll be the judge I guess."

And with that, the match if the decade started. You were on a team with Taigen, and Mizu teamed up with Ringo. She wanted to be on the same team as you, but Taigen snatched you up first. That bastard.

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're pretty." Mizu says, warming up her shoulders on the other side of the web.

"Complimenting me won't save your ass." You tease back with a wink.

"Wait, no, that's not what-" Mizu suddenly realized the meaning of her words, but before she could try and ramble herself out of it, the game started with Taigen serving. It went all well, since Mizu could block all of Taigen's hits, but when you were the one sending the ball her way? The woman froze.

Everyime you jumped up to hit the ball, your whole body bounced, especially that part that she couldn't take her eyes off of. The little victory punch you gave to the air after you scored, the way your hair stuck to your forehead because you started sweating, and the way you threw yourself at the ground to catch the ball last minute, making your soft body squish against the sand...it mesmerized Mizu.

It was obvious you took the game seriously, but sadly not as seriously as Taigen, who basically started beating his chest like a gorilla when he scored. The strategy was simple: Ringo would take your hits, and Mizu would block and eliminate Taigen's. It all went jolly for a good while of the game, until your bikini top slipped, revealing your underboob. You though nobody noticed, so you quickly pulled it back into place, But someone did notice. And that someone couldn't focus on anything else during the rest of the game.

The results came out with you and Taigen on top, but only by two points. It was infuriating as hell to watch Taigen give you a double high five, but you looked happy, and that made Mizu content. She was watching the scene, until Ringo nudged her.

"Now. Mood, and uh...vibe! All good. Do it now." He tried to whisper, but he was really excited. It took Mizu a moment to realize what he was talking about, and when she did, she gave him a determined nod. She marched to you, her cheeks burning, and a frown on her face that could be described as angry, but it was just a sign of her taking this seriously.

"You did good." She says, lifting her shades off her face, putting them up into her hair.

"Thanks. You two weren't bad either. You just decided to play against champions." You shrug playfully.

"So uh...I saw an ice cream booth over there. I could buy you one as a winning prize, or something." She offers, shoving one of her hands into the pocket of her swimming trunks. Her voice came out breathy, on one part from just finishing the game, and on the other...well...

"Free ice cream? Hell yeah!" You say enthusiastically, and get going. Mizu just follows you. Taigen stays there, looking confused for a second.

You stand there, staring at the different flavours of ice cream. "Mmm...I think I'll go with mint chocolate chip." You say, tilting your head, still considering it. "Or bubblegum!"

"You could get both." Mizu shrugs. You're very particular about your icecream, it seems. It's good to know. If she manages to score another date with you, she'll bring you to a pastry shop instead of an aquarium.

"Really? Awsome!" You celebrate to yourself. "What are you getting?" You ask, leaning closer to her. Mizu gulps.

"I'll just...have vanilla." She says, doing her damn best not to look at your lips that are so close. She whishes she could be on that level with you where casual kisses are a thing.

"Vanilla? Well that's a little...boring." You chuckle. "I think you'd like coconut." You say, pointing at the similar colored ice cream. The fact that you're comfortable enough to decide what could she like is so...so...

"Yeah, sure." Mizu shrugs again. She pays for the icecream, but doesn't start walking back to the others yet. "Here," She starts walking towards the part of the shore where big rocks could give some privacy. You follow her, kitty-licking your ice cream. That movement reminds her---fuck. Why is she acting like a hormone filled twelve year old?

As she stares at you while walking, you're staring at the water. She follows your gaze, and starts watching the water too. The waves and the foam splash against the sky, and the clouds hover above, now lightly pink and orange tinted from the sun almost setting.

Suddenly, you point at the sand: you spotted a jellyfish that got thrown out by the water. "Look!" You rush to it, and crouch down by it's side. "Do you think it's still alive. It's still wet."

"Yeah, like me when I'm near you." is what Mizu wants to say, but instead she just follows you. "I'dunno." You seem to worry about the jellyfish, which is...sweet. It's just a jellyfish to Mizu, but to you? It's already named Fred and has a twelve page backstory. Mizu, in an attemt to not let your mood get ruined, takes off her sunglasses, and places them on the jellyfish.

"Damn. I think he's still alive, he seems pretty fresh to me. Drippy, even." Mizu snorts, and you push her, making her land on her butt as you laugh with her.

"Oh my god...you're horrible." You say, your beautiful smile returning. Even if she landed on her ass, a win is a win. Mizu takes back her shades and throws the jellyfish back in the water.

Mizu then takes a deep breath. She looks at you, her blue eyes shining in the orange-ish light. She steps closer, and lightly takes your hand. She wants to make it seem like it's a casual thing, but her heart is drumming against her ribcage. She then pushes her already melting icecream close to your lips. "Wanna taste?" She ask.

You chuckle. She's adorable. You lean closer, and take a big lick off her treat. You notice that the white ice cream has already melted to her hand. You lightly take her wrist. "You're so messy." You say teasingly and start licking the ice cream off her fingers. Mizu's breath hitches as she watches your tongue work on her skin, licking her lips unconsciously.

"You're so fucking beautiful like that." She blurts out, her other hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

You smile up at her, licking up the cone. That was the greenlight you needed. You move your head up, and push your lips against her. You taste like coconut, as she opens her lips, inviting in your tongue. Her hand lands on your hips, leading you more behind a bigger rock, away from the all the prying eyes. She lightly grips the soft tissue on your hips, her fingers cautiously wandering towards your ass as you devour her lips. She slowly pushes you against the rock. You already ate your ice cream, and her's is melted completely, it's soggy cone laying alone in the sand as her hands move up to cup your breasts.

"I wanted to do this ever since that stupid match..." She murmurs into the kiss, her finger's finding your nipples through your bikini top.

You grin against her lips, slowly exchanging positions until her back is against the rock. You run your finger's along her skin, feeling up the exposed muscles. Her abs basically guided your hand along to trace their shape, then guided your hand downwards. You undid her swimming trunks and got on your knees before her.

Mizu looks at you, almost hypnotized by how good you look on your knees. Before she could react, you pull her trunks down, and teasingly lick her folds. Mizu pushes her palm against her lips to silence the loud groan that wanted to escape her lips. You chuckled against her flesh, closing your eyes as you started to do your work. Mizu's long, slender finger's got lost in your hair, keeping your head in place as she chewed on the inside of her cheek to hold back her noise.

She mumbles you name over and over, her hips lightly bucking into your mouth. "F-Fuck...fuck, I love you..." She blurts out in a half moan, half whine. Is it the best time to say it? Not really. But is that stopping her? No. She is too filled with passion and her feelings are bubbling over the edge. "I have loved you...f-for so long...p-please..." She whines silently. "I...I-I want you t'be mine..so damn bad...oh God..."

You look up at her, her juices dripping down your chin. You then suddenly stick out your tongue, pushing it inside her walls. Mizu bites into her palm to keep quiet.

"You're so fucking cute..." You mumble into her, repeatedly pulling and pushing your tongue in and out. Your nose rubs against her clit, making it hard to keep standing.

"M'gonna cum...f-fuck, keep going..." Mizu groans, bucking her hips even more into your mouth.

You can feel her walls clench around your tongue as she reaches her climax, holding your mouth open so her juices basically slip down your throat withouth swallowing. After she comes down from her high, you pull away, wiping your lips with the back of her hand, pulling her swimming trunks back into place. You get up from your kneeling position and give her a sloppy kiss.

"D'ya mean it?" You murmur into the kiss, your arms wrapping around her neck.

Mizu's lost in the kiss. She doesn't even think about the fact that she should be freaking out right now. "Meant every fucking word...I want to be your girlfriend." She says, her hands hugging your waist.

And with that...Mizu returned home that day a taken woman. She listened to the playlists she made you (psst!), and somehow heard every song in a new light.

[growup-thatbeautiful]

mad max fury road absolutely destroyed me so here’s some max brainrot!

also, apologies for all the unanswered asks, i legit haven’t written anything since well before december, but i’m trying to get back into it. just, you know, a lot going on :))

tw: mentions of sa, blood, canon typical violence

you’re one of joe’s wives, so obviously you’ve got a lot of trauma and you’re not exactly used to being out in the open. but, when furiosa tells you to follow her onto the convoy, you don’t hesitate one bit. you would do anything to get away from joe and the prison joe crated for you and the other girls. nothing can be worse than what you’ve already been through.

the hiding hole in the convoy is dusty and hot. it’s hard to breathe through the smoke and sand whirling through the crowded space, and you’re pushed up against the hard metal, Toast’s elbow in your stomach. when the convoy stops moving, you relish the opportunity to stretch your legs and drink some water. the thin cloth that covers your body is gritty with sand and stained by tears. if you had anything else to change into, you would.

the sun is brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. the sand is warmer than you expected, and you remind yourself that people die out here. but the water is cold and it’s sweet on your tongue, the hope of survival clawing it’s way from your chest.

at first, like everyone else, you don’t trust him one bit. he’s a stranger, and a man, and you’re not sure he’s sane. he doesn’t even have a name that you know of.

but there’s something about him. something that tells you he won’t hurt you or any of the other girls. the brown eyes that he hides under that mask are cunning and strange, yes, but there’s a level of honesty in them that makes you want to trust him.

furiosa’s killswitch stops him before he gets too far, and then he’s forced to take your group. you’re squeezed up from with him and her, the daggers between them enough to make it uncomfortable. she has control- you’re not worried about that- but he has pretty much all of the weapons furiosa hid away.

for the most part, the time passes in silence. Toast and Splendid argue some, and Dag takes the middle ground. Furiosa concentrates on the road, and the man curls as far into the metal of the door as he can, weapons stashed underneath his feet.

it’s not until much later, after you’ve met up with the women from the green place, that you talk to him for the first time. the sky is dark and streaked with sandstorms in the distance, greys and oranges flooding the atmosphere.

“all the others have names. you don’t?” he asks. you’re sitting in the front seat with him again, Furiosa deep in conversation with one of the older women.

“you haven’t told us your name either,” you bite back. “and my name isn’t your concern. neither are their names.” you nod toward the group of girls curled up on the back seat, each looking more and more exhausted.

he accepts your answer with a small nod. “i wouldn’t want to keep a name he gave me either.” there’s a surprising level of understanding in his eyes.

“it’s not that.” he doesn’t look convinced. “it’s not just that,” you correct. “i don’t have anything else to go by. i’m not used to having people use my name for good things.”

“i wouldn’t want to contribute to that bad streak,” he agrees. “what do i call you, then?”

you think for a moment. it doesn’t take you long to come up with a name. it’s something you heard Cheedo talk about one time, probably just a story about a place with streets made of water, opera houses full of painted tiles, and people crammed together but happy. “venice. you can call me venice.”

“venice it is, then.”

the next day, the plan changes. you never thought you would want to head back to where you came from, but it’s better than the alternative. years riding nowhere. sun blisters and sand burns.

the road back to the stronghold is dangerous. it’s risky. but you have Furiosa and the man with you. they’re just as dangerous, you think.

you didn’t expect to survive, though. yes, you lost Splendid and Nux. it hurt like you thought it would, but you haven’t had enough time to really consider it. not with everything going on. not when you find out the man’s name is max. it’s a good name, an old name. one without this world’s pain ingrained into it.

it’s been hours on the road with him and you can’t sleep. every time you close your eyes you see joe’s figure lurking over you or splendid’s body roll underneath truck tires or even flames eating at nux as rubble and rock crushed him into the ground. you know you’re going to be home soon, if you can even call the stronghold a home.

you know you’re getting on max’s nerves. he doesn’t say anything, but the glances in your direction are enough. you pick at your fingernails until they’re raw and bite and the inside of your cheek until it bleeds. none of it helps. you can’t sleep.

finally, he breaks the silence. “why don’t you try to sleep?” you don’t need to tell him why. he’s heard your screaming and your panicked breaths. he knows what happens when you try to sleep. “there’s nothing that used to help you fall asleep? with the other girls?”

“toast and i used to hold each other when it was too much.” you don’t know why you tell him. you would never wake Toast up, not when she’s finally fallen asleep after fitful attempts. and it’s not like max is going to hold you while you sleep. he has more important things to do.

you don’t expect him to offer. you really don’t. with Furiosa hurt, its on him to drive. it shouldn’t be much further, but it’s enough.

“lay you head down,” he says softly. when you don’t immediately respond, he adds, “you don’t have to, but i think it’ll help you get some sleep.”

“okay,” you agree uncertainly. slowly, carefully, like you’re trying not to scare him or yourself, you lean over and lay down, your back on the warm metal of the seat. your head rests gently on his thigh, and you try not to put too much pressure on him. you know he’s sore, and you aren’t sure this is what he wants.

“there you go.” his voice is quiet but, for once, sure of himself. his hand reaches to card through your hair and brush it off your face. “try to sleep, now.”

it’s easier than you thought it would be, trusting him. letting him take care of you. but, somehow, you do. maybe it’s because you know his name and because he’s saved you so many times. whatever it is, you let him lull you to sleep with his gentle hands tracing the curves of your face.

[alwaysmicado]

predator & prey

8.6k | 18+ MDNI | Nathan Bateman x f!reader

Warnings: consensual non-consent, restraints, manhandling, face slapping, hard choking, rough p in v sex, biting, creampie, pain kink, degradation/praise, subdrop, aftercare, soft(ish) Nathan Summary: Nathan fulfills your fantasy of being taken in the woods. Can you handle it? A/N: Living in the middle of nowhere has its perks...Can be read alone or as an extension of in control. I'm so beyond excited to finally share this with you!! It's been wreaking havoc in my brain for months now. Enjoy the ride and let me know what you think! 🖤

As the last rays of the setting sun dip below the horizon, casting the world into a deep indigo hue, Nathan grabs the neatly folded pile of clothes, your trail running shoes, and his backpack. Still in your sweats, you’re taken aback when he steps into your office, his hand finding your shoulder.

“Put these on,” he tells you, his voice betraying no particular emotion. He hands you a pair of jeans in your size and an oversized, white t-shirt, along with a nude bra and panties. You swallow and look up at him, catching the subtle glint in his eyes. 

“Time to go.” 

You dress as instructed, your fingers deftly lace up your shoes, and the two of you set off. 

The crisp air gently nibbles at your cheeks, and the faint glow of twilight casts a soft ambiance as the crunch of leaves and gravel beneath your feet echoes through the stillness around you. The air holds a charged energy, and each one of your steps carries a weight of anticipation. Your muscles are tense, your senses heightened, acutely aware of what lies ahead. 

Nathan’s demeanor is casual. He’s smiling, asking about your day, about the project that’s been giving you a headache for the past two weeks. You give him a semi-honest answer, admitting that you’ve been stressed, but omitting the fact that you’ve cried yourself to sleep over it more than once.

“You’ll figure it out,” he reassures you with a soft smile. Your furrowed brow meets his confident gaze, and for a moment, you study his face. He’s sincere.

You’re used to discussing your work with Nathan, it’s what you’re living with him for, after all. And despite your…complicated relationship with him, he has never questioned your professional skills.

That’s all on you. Your perfectionism is draining.

As you reach the edge of the woods after a half-hour march along the river, darkness begins to cloak you like a shroud. The trees whisper secrets, and the unknown looms like a specter in the night. Nathan activates the small portable light attached to his backpack, rolls his shoulders, and fixes his gaze on you.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and excitement courses through your veins, fueled by a potent blend of curiosity and trepidation. 

“You know what’s about to happen,” he says calmly, tilting your chin up with his gloved fingers to search your eyes. “Take a deep breath. We’re not starting until you’re ready.” 

You take a moment to gather yourself, inhaling the grounding scent of earth and pine, your eyes locked onto his.

“Choose a path and make sure you memorize it. Be aware of your surroundings and where you’re going. Do not look back.” He rubs your cheek softly with his thumb as his dark eyes pierce your soul. 

Sensing the rough leather of his gloves against your skin sends a chill down your spine as memories of pain and pleasure flood your mind.

These gloves have choked you until you passed out, just to slap you awake again. They’ve penetrated all your holes simultaneously, teasing you, stretching you, making you come over and over again. They’ve split your lip, caressed your cheek, spread Nathan’s cum all over your face, wiped away your tears.

There’s no part of your body they haven’t thoroughly explored in a tantalizing dance between violent and soft touches.

And Nathan only ever wears them for you.

As you study the man in front of you, the only man you’d willingly follow into the unknown, his presence feels both reassuring and elusive—a paradox you’ve come to not only accept but cherish. The intricate interplay of familiarity and mystery that shapes your connection is not just comforting; it’s irresistibly alluring.

In his all-black attire, he presents an effortlessly handsome yet imposing figure. You appreciate the boots on his feet, a deviation from his usual habit of walking around barefoot, and how they seamlessly blend into the darkness of his tactical pants secured by a familiar belt.

While the physical marks from your last encounter may have healed, allowing you to shower and sit down again without writhing in pain, the mere sight of the leather item makes you wince and sends a jolt of electricity through the muscles in your ass cheeks and thighs. 

Provoking Nathan is fun, but the consequences hurt. Badly.

Your gaze wanders further up, drawn to the hoodie that tightly embraces his broad frame, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the defined contours of his chest. It’s one of your favorite sights, second only to seeing him completely bare. Beneath his glasses, dark eyes fixate on you with a keen intensity, silently assessing the anticipation evident on your face.

Finally, your eyes reconnect with his, and the magnetic force of his gaze draws you into the depths of his desires. You see the lust in his eyes, the look of raw hunger etched across his face. It’s a look you’ve grown to both crave and fear, a look only you bring out of him.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Alright.” He nods and takes a step back from you, his scowl deepening. “Ten.”

You’re up and running before ‘nine’ even fully leaves Nathan’s lips. You don’t look back as his booming voice echoes behind you. Do you remember the path you chose? Do you know where your feet are carrying you into the mist, through the labyrinth of trees, fast, faster than they’ve ever carried you? You better run, little bunny, run, run away from him.

Ignore your racing heart, ignore the weight of his presence, ignore the forest closing in around you. You need to run. Run through the shadows, run away from him. Can you feel his eyes on you? The predator’s eyes locked on his prey?

Your time is up. He’s coming for you.

Nathan’s eyes follow you, vigilant, watching as your silhouette disappears into the forest, his heart pounding in his chest. Swiftly, he fastens the chest strap of his backpack, tightens his gloves, turns off the light, and lunges into a run. He’s on your trail.

Can you feel him? Can you feel him chasing you, drawing nearer with every frantic beat of your heart? He’s not going to stop until he catches you.

And you know what happens when he does, don’t you?

You’re sprinting, the crunch of leaves and the snap of twigs beneath your shoes creating a frenzied symphony in your haste. Panic creeps in, its icy fingers tightening around your racing heart. The air, now cold and damp, clings to your skin, making you shiver. You run further along the path you’ve chosen, quickly, as quickly as your aching muscles will allow. 

Are you scared? Is that why your breath comes in shallow gasps, and your eyes shimmer with unshed tears? Ah, yes. Yes, you are scared. That’s good. You should be. Let the tendrils of fear wrap around your every move, and embrace the primal instinct that tells you to run, run like a rabbit chased by a hungry fox.

He’s going to sink his teeth into your neck and tear you apart, tear you to shreds. 

Your cold feet carry you along the path you chose, deeper into the woods, deeper into the darkness. Trees blur past, bathed in moonlight, casting enigmatic figures on the path ahead. You can’t stop. He trails behind, a shadow in the darkness, tracking your scent, treading the path your feet imprinted moments before. Can you hear him panting, can you feel his hot breath on your neck? He’s on your heels, inching closer, so close to catching you, so close to having you.

You’re a fast little bunny, Nathan quietly acknowledges, his hungry gaze capturing a glimpse of your shirt. It only heightens the thrill for him, pursuing someone deserving of his dominance.

Oh, how he’s going to enjoy devouring you.

He’s behind you, pacing himself, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He’s calm and calculated in his hunt for you, his feet carrying him swiftly towards you. You must hear the branches snapping under his heavy boots, you must feel the heat radiating off his body.

How do you feel? Are you afraid or turned on right now? Be honest. He’s not going away, you’re not going to escape him, he’s going to get you. Have you made peace with your fate?

You should have listened to him. Fuck. A fleeting glance backward is all it takes for you to lose your balance and trip over your own feet, twisting your ankle. The harsh ground rushes to meet you, hands breaking your fall, immediately sending a sharp pain through your arms and shoulders from the impact. Gasping for air, on the brink of tears, you fumble back to your feet, rising as quickly as your sore knees permit.

Where are you? Where has fate led you? The urgency to run grips you again, urging you to flee, escape. Start moving—now. Away from him. Are you sure you chose the right path? Darkness envelops you. Your vision is blurry, you’re tired, your body hurts. The echo of your breath lingers, a haunting reminder of your vulnerability. He’s so near, closing in. Why are you doing this?

A surge of adrenaline in your bloodstream propels you forward, numbing the pain in your ankle and legs. You push yourself into a sprint, using all of your determination and strength, ignoring the heart in your chest threatening to explode. Do not stop. No matter how suffocating the open space around you feels now, no matter how much the cold wind bites your face, no matter how much you yearn for respite.

Do not stop. 

You keep running, heart pounding, panic rising. You hear him, feel him, know he’s toying with you like a cat playing with the mouse it’s about to rip apart. You like that, don’t you? The anticipation. Dull pain in your muscles slows you down, slows your desperate escape. 

Exhaustion and vigilance intermingle, fear collides with excitement, and amidst the confusion, a strange clarity emerges. This is it. He’s here. 

He’s on you – you’re free. 

Nathan’s weight bears down, the forceful impact knocking the breath out of your lungs, his hands and knees pressing you face down into the unforgiving, cold ground. The weight of his breath, heavy and labored, blends with the earthy scent on your lips, clouding your mind. 

“Caught you,” Nathan growls into your ear, his dangerous tone of voice causing your whole body to shudder with an urgent sense of dread. He’s panting, his teeth clenched as he grabs your neck, his gloved fingers painfully digging into your skin, putting his weight on you as you scream and thrash under him. He caught you, he has you, you’re his now. 

Your brain races in overdrive as the primal fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, telling you to ‘fight, fight, little bunny’.

Go on, act like you don’t want it.  

“No, get off me,” you scream at him, clawing at his hand on your neck, writhing and struggling to escape his grip. You can feel the sneer on his face, can feel his satisfaction with your predicament. Do you really want to resist him? That’s not true, is it? You don’t actually want him to stop, don’t want him to listen to the pathetic pleas leaving your lips. No, no, you don’t want that.

You want him to have you, to take you, to ravage you.

What a sick girl you are. 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Nathan snarls, his knees pinning your legs down, his grip on your neck intensifying while his free hand retrieves something from one of his pockets.

“You’re mine now. Mine to take, mine to hurt,” he grabs your chin roughly, his dark eyes boring into you. “And you better believe I’m gonna make it hurt.”

Are you scared of him? He’s stronger than you. He’s going to hurt you. You made him chase you, made him chase what’s his. You’re going to pay for that, little bunny. You’re going to pay for trying to deny him. Can you see the fire burning in his eyes? That’s all for you.

Grabbing your wrist, he forcefully twists your arm behind your back, ignoring your pained groan as you struggle and try to resist. With practiced efficiency, he repeats the motion with your other arm, his gloved fingers digging into your flesh. He needs to use all of his strength to keep your hands in place as he fastens the zip tie tightly around your bare wrists, effectively immobilizing your hands. 

You’re bound, restrained—like a little present on a plate, primed and ready for the taking. Does it hurt? Does it hurt to be this helpless, this vulnerable? Struggle all you want. There’s no way you can escape now. 

Your fate is sealed.

Nathan manhandles you onto your back, grabbing you by your shoulder, then immediately straddles you and sits on your thighs to keep you pinned down. You can see the dark glint in his eyes and the violent desire painted across his face. Does that make you wet? The lust, the hunger, the raw need he has for you? 

He knows, little bunny. You’re so pathetic.

“Fuck you,” you defiantly spit at him, as the subtle smirk on Nathan’s face stirs the rebellious voice simmering in your mind.

It’s the same inner voice that urges you to provoke him when your ass is already black and blue, the voice that tells you to deliberately graze his cock with your teeth, so he’ll grab your neck and fuck your throat harder, the voice that tells you to come without permission, so he’ll overstimulate you until you’re too weak to cry — the voice that tells you you need more.

Nathan strikes you hard across the face, splitting your lip. Tears spill from your eyes, and a surge of adrenaline floods your veins. The impact on your cheek is so intense that your head recoils, seeking refuge away from him, eyes clamped shut in an attempt to find solace in darkness. He denies you that respite.

“Look at me, whore!” His hands are on your throat in an instant, knocking your head against the ground, ruthlessly pressing on your veins, crushing you, choking you. 

His eyes blaze with a wild fervor, pupils dilated to an almost feral intensity. The lines on his face contort, a mixture of raw desire and twisted pleasure etched across his features. Desire and dominance intertwine as his gloved fingers tighten even further around your neck, each breath he denies you heightening the predatory satisfaction he feels.

The crushing grip on your throat sends shockwaves of panic through every fiber of your being, alerting your body to resist. Resist him. Resist him or die. With your hands bound behind your back, your struggles are futile, your desperate squirms and frenzied kicks against the unyielding ground only fueling Nathan’s arousal.

Can you taste your own fear on your bloody lips? Delicious, isn’t it?

The world around you blurs, your head spinning, your heart racing, the dark grip of unconsciousness tightening around you. Dumb little bunny, willingly jumping into the fox’s den. What did you think was going to happen?

You’re so helpless under him, so vulnerable, so utterly…human. 

Nathan’s cock is so fucking hard it hurts. 

Right on the edge, as the vacant look in your eyes hints at a mind detaching from reality, he lets go of your throat with a growl, and takes off his gloves. Convulsing, you desperately gasp and cough and splutter as precious air revives your lungs. Your vision gradually returns, and as you gaze upward through tear-filled eyes, the vast expanse of the night sky unfolds above you, a celestial canvas painted with a myriad of stars.

It’s beautiful. Chaotic. Intimidating. Soothing.

Then, his eyes come into focus. Those deep, dark, intense eyes you could drown in. Wouldn’t that be nice? You see fire in them, hunger, calculated power, and…something else.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re scared,” you hear Nathan pant, his bare hands gripping your cheeks firmly, before he leans in and presses his lips on yours in a messy, violent kiss. You’re still gasping for air, but he doesn’t care. He needs to taste you, to devour you, to claim you as his.

He’s frenzied now, moaning into your mouth, gripping your jaw, sliding his hand under your shirt, along your belly and further up, pulling your bra down. He bites your lip, tasting your blood on his tongue, bruising you, marking you. You sob against his lips, out of breath, in pain, mind reeling, so desperate to be close to him you’re shaking.

He laughs at the pathetic sounds you make as he sucks and bites at the sensitive skin of your neck while hungrily groping your tits, his hand exploring your soft skin, squeezing, twisting, punishing. He tugs at your erect nipples, loving how you arch your back and how your cries echo in the night. 

“Scream all you want, baby,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck before peppering soft kisses along your jaw, his free hand moving down your belly and into your pants. “Nobody’s coming to save you.”

You cry and whimper as blood, spit and tears stain your face, giving Nathan exactly what he wants. God, you’re perfect. 

He slips his hand into your panties, groaning at the feeling of your wetness, his fingers sliding through your folds, making you moan and clench around nothing when he brushes your swollen clit. You beg him to stop, twisting and pulling your arms back and forth under yourself, trying to wriggle your hands free to push him off. But it’s no use, is it? Poor baby. You’re bound, you’re, ensnared, like a fly caught in the spider’s silk, each struggle only tightening the threads around you.

What are you so afraid of? Why are you trying to resist so hard? Is it fear or is it the fact that you’re sopping wet from being violated? 

The truth hurts, little bunny, it really does. But you can’t escape it.

Overwhelmed with Nathan’s assault on your senses, you gaze up at him with pleading eyes, his wicked grin widening with every agonizing second as he’s relishing the betrayal of your body. You’re such a depraved whore, letting him hurt you and getting off on it. He loves that you are, and he wants you to know that. He wants you to know how much he fucking loves hurting you, how much he wants you. All of you.

He can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel you.

Sitting up straight, he kneels between your legs, momentarily abandoning your tit and your pussy to hastily fumble with the button and zipper of your jeans. Can you see how hard his cock is straining against his pants and how hard his chest is heaving? Can you see what you’re doing to him? He’s in agony and he’s finally going to get his relief from you.

If only he hadn’t underestimated you.

A split second. A split second of lust-fueled distraction is all it takes for Nathan to give you an opportunity to get out. And you take it.

It all happens so fast. 

The forceful kick you deliver to his abdomen shocks you both. He gasps as the unexpected blow catches him off guard, and he stumbles backward, crashing onto the backpack strapped to his shoulders. The impact jars through his spine, making him groan in pain as he feels the sturdy surface of the thermos he brought pressing into his back. Hearing his pitiful groans stuns you for a fleeting moment, a hint of concern creeping in. 

You catch a quick glimpse of Nathan’s dark eyes and that’s when the flight instinct finally kicks in, telling you to get the fuck up and run.

Oh, what have you done, little bunny?

You wriggle on the ground, pain pulsating through your body as you scramble to your feet, wrists still bound behind your back. You run, feet pounding against the uneven forest floor, frantically, unsteady, driven by a primal need to escape.

Your eyes, wide with terror, dart wildly in all directions, desperately searching for an escape route. The whites of your eyes stand out starkly against the backdrop of fear, reflecting the moonlight that filters through the trees overhead. Each breath is visible, quick and shallow, as if the very air you inhale carries the weight of your anxiety. The cold air stings in your lungs, each breath hurting your sore throat. 

“You fucking bitch!” Nathan’s furious shouts echo behind you as he pulls himself up with a pained groan, a relentless pursuit that adds to the drumming rhythm of your heart. “Running won’t save you, you stupid girl. You’re mine. And when I—fuck—when I catch you I’m gonna hurt you like I’ve never fucking hurt you before.” 

Your blood freezes in your veins at his words, but you don’t respond, focusing solely on the path ahead. Running, panting, gritting your teeth, trying to keep your balance with bound hands. Twisting and turning through the dense foliage, you try to outsmart your pursuer, relying on instincts honed by fear. The shadows dance around you, leaves crunching beneath your feet. You better run, little bunny, run, run away from him.

You think a little groping and choking was bad? Oh, you naive thing. That was nothing. He means it when he says he’ll hurt you like never before. But you know that, right? That’s why you’re running now even though your body is threatening to collapse. You just had to be defiant, hm? You just couldn’t accept that you fucking loved what he did to you.

Now look where your pride got you. Was it worth it?

He’s catching up to you, determined to win, his quick feet carrying him through the mist, his angry shouts getting closer. Can you feel his anger, his hot breath on your neck? Can you feel the venom with which he spits his threats at you? There’s nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal.

“You think you can escape me, you dumb bitch?” Nathan’s voice is a predatory growl, following your every move.

His cruel laughter chases you like a haunting melody, spurring you on to push your aching muscles harder. The forest seems to tighten around you, an inescapable labyrinth closing in as the predator hunts its prey. And then it happens again. He’s got you. 

As you dart left, he anticipates your move, and your bodies collide with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You both tumble to the ground with a thud, intertwined, leaves and dirt swirling around you in a chaotic dance. 

“No, no, no,” you scream, thrashing about like a wounded animal caught in a bear trap. 

You’re so much stronger than Nathan anticipated, it’s incredible. He knows you have a high pain tolerance, but your resilience is honestly amazing. You truly are the perfect prey.

You squirm and struggle to get away again, but Nathan puts all of his weight on you, pinning you face down under him, your face pressed into the mud, his fingernails digging into your arms so hard you’re making yourself bleed when you desperately try to pull away from his grip. His eyes burn with a mixture of fury and triumph as he pants against your neck, his knees digging into the back of your thighs, one hand moving to press on your neck.

“That’s enough,” he growls through gritted teeth, as you just won’t give up, even though he can feel your exhaustion.

He slaps your exposed cheek as he holds your neck steady, the sharp crack of the impact echoing in the oppressive darkness. A surge of pain courses through you like lightning, leaving a heavy imprint on your senses. Before you can fully register the sting, he ruthlessly yanks on your shirt’s collar, revealing the vulnerable expanse of your shoulder.

Without hesitation, he bites into your flesh, dragging his teeth, breaking your skin. His assault is akin to a wolf sinking its razor-sharp fangs into prey, tearing into your body with a savage hunger. It hurts worse than anything you can remember. Your body’s in shock and your cries come out soundless, weak, futile. He’s pushing you to your limits.

When he’s had his fill, he wipes his bloody mouth, sits up and turns you on your back, immediately straddling your thighs as one of his hands constricts around your bruised neck. The pressure is not yet enough to completely cut off your air supply, but it’s enough to evoke vivid and terrifying memories of how he choked you just moments ago. The implied threat is enough to keep you still.

Nathan slings off his backpack in a swift motion using his free hand and turns on the light. He then takes a few seconds to look into your wet, glazed-over eyes, caressing your tender cheek with an unexpectedly gentle touch, tracing your soft skin with his palm. He can see it in your dilated pupils, he can feel it radiating off your body, he can hear it in your trembling voice as you can’t hold back the pathetic little whimpers escaping your lips.  

You’re flying. 

Seeing the need in your eyes, his handprint on your cheek, his bite mark on your shoulder, and the blood on your lips makes his cock throb in his pants. He can’t wait anymore, he needs you.

He lets go of your neck with a menacing growl, moving back to sit between your legs. His unwavering gaze remains locked onto yours, stripping you of any semblance of agency. He quickly grabs the waistband of your jeans and drags them over your ass and down to your thighs like you’re a doll — like you’re one of his androids. Sentient, but not in control. 

It’s so peaceful, isn’t it? Being his toy. His little slut to play with.

You feel your panties being yanked down, feel the cold breeze on your pussy as Nathan lifts and bends your legs for better access, feel him holding your thighs with a tight grip. He can see how wet you are, how swollen your clit is, how much your body craves his violence. And he’s going to give it to you. All of it. Because he craves it just as badly. His cock is aching for you, rock-hard, pulsating, desperate to feel the warmth of your cunt.

He hastily pulls down his pants with controlled movements, revealing just how much his body wants you. You can see his cock through your wet lashes, causing your walls to clench around nothing and your hips to jerk at the sight; a conditioned response from the hours upon hours of ecstasy he’s given you.

“All for you, my little whore,” Nathan says with a sly grin as he follows your hungry gaze and reaches down to grab the object of your attention. Locking eyes with you and searching them for a second, he strokes the tip of his cock up and down your slick, puffy lips once, twice, and then pushes into your cunt in one forceful thrust.

You whine pathetically as he stretches you open with a loud groan, your toes curling in your shoes, the feeling almost too much to bear. He gives you no time to adjust before he pulls out completely and slams back inside as hard as he can, pushing your body up on the cold ground. 

“F-fuck yeah,” he groans as he bottoms out deep inside you, savoring the delicious feeling of your wet pussy sucking him in. “That’s it…Now, be a good whore and take it.”

You can’t hold back your moans as he starts fucking you at a relentless pace, holding on to both of your thighs, putting his weight on them, pressing them against your torso. The angle makes you incredibly tight and allows him to go deep, deep inside of you. 

Nathan’s gaze penetrates yours, watching in awe as the need in your eyes grows bigger and bigger with every inch of his cock stretching you, with every snap of his hips against your thighs, with every demeaning word he spits at you as he takes what he wants, reducing you to a toy he can use and abuse.

You take it, take everything he gives you, take it so well. You take it until you can’t anymore. 

“Please stop,” you whimper as his deliberate, continuous hits to your cervix cause you immense pain.

Nathan laughs breathlessly. You’re so cute when you pretend that’s not exactly what you need. What hurts more, huh? The pain of him using you or the fact that you’re close to coming from it?

“Can’t take it, slut?” he pants as he can feel his cock swell deep inside of you, your pussy gripping him like a vise. You feel so fucking good. “What happened? I thought you wanted this.”

“Hurts…” you whine as fresh tears run down your temples. You writhe under him, trying to move your legs, but it’s no use. You’re trapped. 

“I know it hurts, baby,” he coos in response, his voice deceptively soothing. “But I need you to be good for me. You wanna be good for me, don’t you? Yeah, you do. You wanna be my good girl. That’s it, baby. Just like that.” 

His words send heat straight to your core, causing your walls to flutter around his cock. God, you’re a perfect little fuckdoll. 

You yelp in surprise as Nathan suddenly leans in, putting your calves on his shoulder, crushing his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. You instinctively open your mouth for his tongue to slide inside, wanting to taste him, to feel him, to have him claim you completely. 

The coil in your lower belly is wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You’re so close. You moan into his mouth as his tongue swirls around yours, and he groans in response, his hips picking up the pace, slamming into you feverishly. Your pitiful cries evaporate in his mouth as his cock hits your cervix over and over again, determined to make you come from pain.

He can feel you burning up against his body, can taste the desperation on your trembling lips, can feel your pussy gripping him so hard it hurts. You’re fucking loving this. He chuckles against your lips as you start jerking your hips, trying your hardest to get more friction on your clit.

Poor little bunny.

He’s not going to touch you. You’re going to come like this or not at all.

Not giving you even one second to catch your breath, he draws back from your lips and immediately grabs the base of your neck with a firm grip to pull himself deeper inside you with every harsh thrust. Lightheaded, mind reeling, your overstimulated body is screaming for release.

“Nathan…” you sob, your voice a mere whisper as tears stream down your temples.

“That’s right, slut. Keep fucking crying,” he groans, his hips stuttering for a moment when he feels your pussy twitch around his cock. You’re so close. Your whole body is trembling and your moans are getting louder and louder as he’s picking up the pace, thrusting into you relentlessly, telling you what a depraved little whore you are for coming on his cock.

It only takes a handful more of Nathan’s measured thrusts before the coil inside you finally snaps and you crash into your orgasm at full speed. Your walls clamp down around his cock so hard he can barely keep moving, and the overwhelming ecstasy that spreads through your body and mind makes you forget who or where you are. You feel weightless, free, whole as he fucks you through your high, drowning you in his touch that masterfully blends pain and pleasure.

He almost comes instantly when he sees and feels you fall apart so completely, your blissed out expression the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

As you start to come down and all sensations begin to blur into an elusive haze, you feel the edges of your vision start to blur and Nathan’s groans seem distant and muffled. On the precipice of your consciousness, in your delirium, you feel the gentle touch of Nathan’s lips on your skin, you see him smiling at you, you hear him whisper in your ear that he lo–

A sharp slap to your cheek wakes you up and has you turning your head to cough and gasp for air. After a few seconds of trying to catch your breath, your chest heaving, your head spinning, you notice that Nathan’s still moving, his hips slamming against the back of your thighs with a relentless ferocity that borders on primal.

“You don’t get to pass out on me, baby,” you hear him chuckle. “I want you to feel it when I fill you up.”

He can feel it building and building, winding tighter and tighter, his cock swelling and twitching inside your cunt. He pants and moans your name, telling you what a perfect little whore you are, how fucking good you feel, how much he enjoys hurting you.

“Holy shit, that’s it. Fuck. Fuck.”

He explodes deep inside you, cum painting your walls, still thrusting as he twitches and pulses, making sure your pussy swallows every last drop. He sits up, panting heavily, sweat running down his temples as he looks down at where your bodies are connected. He slowly pulls out of you with a strangled groan, watches with satisfaction how his cum leaks out of your swollen pussy, and at last lets his spent body collapse on the ground next to you.

“Fucking unreal,” he sighs deeply, covering his face with his hands for a moment before wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. He takes a few seconds to catch his breath and to wait for enough blood to flow back to his brain, then turns his head to look at you. 

You’re lying on your side, turned away from him, your knees pulled up to your chest in the fetal position. Nathan’s eyes are immediately drawn to the burns on your wrists, the scratches covering your arms and ass, and the blood he can see on your shirt’s collar.

Seeing you in this state has his cock twitching on his belly.

He did this to you. He beat you, overpowered you, took you, fucking destroyed you. You were so sure of yourself before, and now look at yourself. Pathetic.

What hurts more, little bunny? Your body or your mind? 

Your pitiful sobs cut through the still of the night, interrupting Nathan’s thoughts.

“Shit.” He snaps out of it and immediately sits up, haphazardly stuffing his cock back inside his pants before opening his backpack to get out the shears he packed. He grabs them, then kneels behind you.

“I’m gonna cut your ties, okay? Don’t move.”

You give no indication that you can hear him, but you don’t move your hands as he cuts the ties around your sore wrists. You lie still, limp, even now that your hands are free again.

Concerned with your body temperature, Nathan quickly reaches for his backpack again to get out a woolen blanket. He drapes it over you, shielding your exposed body from the cold wind blowing around you.

He tries to turn you around, so he can look at you and talk to you, but you start thrashing about and crying violently when he puts pressure on your arm.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s over,” he says calmly but firmly, pulling you up into his lap with your back against his chest despite your protests. His strong arms hold you close, the blanket tightly wrapped around you. “Shhh, it’s over, you’re safe.” 

He can feel you stop resisting and your muscles relaxing in his arms after a minute or so, your head falling back against his shoulder, your breathing getting calmer.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he murmurs into the crown of your head, rocking you gently.

After a short while of sitting in silence, he decides it’s best you two get going, so he can clean you up and take care of your wounds. But first, he wants you to drink from the tea he brought, to warm you up and rehydrate you.

With a careful maneuver, he reaches into his backpack while keeping a supportive hold on you, retrieving the thermos that left a lasting impression on his back. He takes a sip to make sure it’s not too hot before encouraging you to do the same. He smiles to himself when you don’t bother asking what’s in it this time, too exhausted to care, apparently.

You feel the soothing warmth trickling down your sore throat, warming you from the inside. A gentle cough escapes your lips, a testament to the wear and tear your body has endured. When Nathan’s satisfied with your intake, he stows the thermos and helps you stand up. He pulls up your panties and pants without any protest from you, then picks up his backpack. 

“Here,” he murmurs, wrapping the blanket tightly around you, so it stays put without you having to hold it. He then hands you a blue cool pack for your swollen cheek and lip and guides your hand to the affected area. You wince and groan when the pack makes contact with your tender skin.

“Keep pressure on it, okay?”

You nod and press a bit harder, the throbbing pain prompting a new set of tears to well up in your eyes, silently expressing both pain and relief.

“Can you walk?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Mhm.”

“It’s not far,” he murmurs, prompting you to walk in front of him. The flashlight he brought illuminates the path, but exhaustion causes you to stumble a few times. When Nathan has to catch you for the fifth time, he realizes this isn’t going to work and finally opts to rearrange the blanket, so he can guide you with a supportive hand under your armpit.

You’re not really here, so you don’t notice that he’s leading you down a different path than the one you came from.

The cold night air is filled with unspoken truths as you walk in silence, the sound of gravel and leaves crushed beneath your feet echoing the muted conversation you’re not ready to have.

Your body is beginning to hurt more and more with every step you take, as you can feel the adrenaline slowly leaving your body. The fog in your mind begins to clear at the same time, revealing a storm of conflicting emotions you’re utterly unprepared for. 

Nathan’s just fulfilled a fantasy you’ve had forever but could never find the right partner for, either due to lack of sexual compatibility or lack of trust. And despite having you climbing the walls with frustration many times over the past few months, you trust Nathan and know he would never seriously harm you.

Not physically at least.

So, why are you pouting right now? He gave you what you wanted, didn’t he? This was your idea and you wanted it so badly.

Is it because you didn’t think it would feel so real? That it wouldn’t hurt so much? Hmm, that’s not it, is it? No, no. What you’re feeling is shame. You’re ashamed. Ashamed at how much you loved it. How much you loved the thrill of the hunt and the pain of being beaten and used.

What kind of fucked up person would enjoy something like this? What is wrong with you?

– – –

“I had it built over the past week,” Nathan murmurs as he’s opening a new pack of sterile wipes. “Pretty great, huh? I designed every room myself, feng shui included.” You dig your fingernails into your palm and suck in a sharp breath when the alcohol makes contact with the bite mark on your shoulder.

You’ve been in Nathan’s new cabin for half an hour now, and he’s been trying his best to make you feel comfortable—turning up the heat, helping you take off your dirty shirt and jeans, preparing a cup of tea for you while you were on the toilet, giving you pain meds a non-billionaire could only dream of getting their hands on, and carefully disinfecting your wounds in the bathroom. He’s even refrained from misquoting Oppenheimer or exclusively talking about himself.

He is trying.

You, however, have remained unresponsive, eyes vacant, lost in the echoes of your scene. Vivid memories pulse through your veins, and when Nathan notices the subtle tremors wracking your body, a flicker of concern shadows his eyes.

“Looks good,” he goes on as he’s done cleaning the mark his canines left on you. “It’s not as deep as I thought. Still looks like it hurts though.”

He can’t help but smile at the sight, the evidence of what he did to you. Beautiful. He puts the wipes down onto the wooden bench you’re sitting on and studies your profile. Silent tears are slowly rolling down your swollen cheeks, your bruised neck, over your breasts, pooling in your bra. Your lip is quivering.

You hear him say your name. “Can you please look at me?”

When you don’t react, he says your name a little louder, his patience waning as he grapples with his own sense of helplessness.

He’s not used to feeling this way—unable to fully understand or solve a problem that’s presenting itself. He’s a genius for God’s sake. Concern turns to frustration, his eyes mirroring the helplessness he’s experiencing—an unusual and uncomfortable sensation for someone accustomed to being in control.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. But your silence persists, and his frustration peaks. With a sudden resolve, he reaches for your chin, intending to force you to look at him. As soon as his fingers make contact with your skin, you slap his hand away.

“Don’t touch me!” you hiss at him with such venom in your voice that he’s momentarily stunned. Your eyes meet his for the first time since you left the woods, bloodshot and watery, pupils dilated. 

The sudden break in the stagnant atmosphere startles both of you and you immediately regret what you did when you see the look on Nathan’s face. Your palms are clammy, the bathroom suddenly feels far too hot, and every scratch on your body burns and pulses in time with your racing heartbeat.

“I–I’m so sorry,” you stutter, your eyes wide, your trembling hand reaching for his arm. 

“It’s okay,” he says calmly, studying your face with a furrowed brow. “Are you in pain? Is that it?”

“No—well, yeah. Of course I am, what the hell do you think?” A small smile tugs at Nathan’s lips, amused with your answer. “But, uh, that’s not it.” You avert your gaze and absentmindedly rub your right thumb over your left thumb in your lap. 

“Was it too much? Did I do some–”

“No.” You vehemently shake your head and look into his eyes. “It was perfect, Nathan. I liked it, really.”

He can see in your eyes that you’re telling the truth, but that just confuses him more.

“It’s just,” you go on, shifting uncomfortably on the bench. “What’s wrong with me?”

A lightbulb flickers to life above Nathan’s head, and suddenly, it’s crystal clear what your pleading eyes are trying to say.

“Why do you think anything’s wrong with you? You just said you liked what we did.”

“But why?” you blurt out. “Other people don’t ask their boss to chase them through the woods. They’re not perpetually bruised. And they wouldn’t get off on half the shit you do to me.” Your voice is agitated now, your hands wildly gesticulating between the two of you.

Nathan can see how distressed you are, but he genuinely doesn’t understand why. This isn’t like you. He sighs and puts his hand on your naked thigh. You let him.

“Pain, humiliation, submitting to me,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours. “That’s your thing, okay? Now, why is that your thing? Because you did a detailed analysis of all kinks and you cross-referenced that analysis with a points-based system? No. You’re just into pain and humiliation. You like submitting to me. It’s how you were programmed. Nature and nurture, baby.”

You hear the words he says, but your tired brain and your aching body make it so you’re not really processing them. His logic isn’t what you need right now.

“But…don’t you think that’s weird?” you murmur, your eyes filling with tears again.

Nathan sighs deeply, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “This is your insecurity talking, this is not your intellect,” he says sternly. “You’re better than that.”

He gets up with a suppressed groan, clutching his abdomen, and holds out his hand for you to join him.

As soon as you’re standing, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your lips still sting, but you don’t mind. Nathan’s lips, his warm body against yours, and his hands roaming your naked back feel too good to care. You’re losing yourself in his touch again.

He directs you backwards toward the sink without breaking the kiss, pressing his growing erection against your core when your lower back hits the sink. His tongue swirls around yours, his low hums vibrating against your lips as his hands find your hips.

Breaking the kiss, out of breath, he turns you around, so you’re in front of the mirror. 

“Look at yourself,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, his lidded eyes watching you. He slowly traces your skin with his fingertips, appreciating the marks on your body. A shiver runs down your spine and you moan softly at his tantalizing touch.

“I did this. I did this to you.” Nathan kisses your neck with his warm, soft lips, his beard tickling you. You close your eyes and hum at the feeling, resting your hands on the sink.

“And you took it so well, baby,” he murmurs against your skin between kisses, his hard cock pressing against your ass. “You earned every single bruise. You’re such a good little whore.”

His right hand moves down your belly, down between your thighs, cupping your mound over your panties. Gently but firmly. He keeps kissing up and down your neck, his warm breath and soft groans making you wet. You let your head fall back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck, and rocking your hips against his hand.

“Nathan…don–” you murmur, but he cuts you off. 

“Shh,” he purrs against your neck, sliding his hand inside your panties and finding your clit with his fingers.

“Look at yourself.”

You reluctantly open your eyes. His gaze meets yours in the reflection, your brows drawn together, your lips slightly parted. You still wince at the sight of your swollen face, the mark on your shoulder and the bruises and scratches you can see. But all of your thoughts are quickly washed away when Nathan’s fingers start rubbing your clit, his dark eyes never leaving you. 

“That’s it, baby. Look at what I did to you. Look at how much I hurt you.”

Speeding up the movement of his fingers, he can feel your legs starting to tremble as your orgasm approaches rapidly. He wraps his left hand around your front, his hand splayed over your tense belly, holding you against his chest. 

Sweet release. You can already taste it.

Your moans are becoming louder and louder, and right when you’re about to tip over the edge, Nathan roughly grabs your throat and simultaneously pushes three fingers into your pussy, pumping them in and out of you hard and fast. Your eyes widen in shock and your hands instinctively grab at his, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but he’s undeterred.

He knows you’re sore, so he’s not going to fuck you with his cock. But you need this. 

“There is nothing wrong with you or with what you want,” he growls into your ear, his eyes boring into you as he feels you coming around his fingers with a desperate moan.

You ride out your high on his hand until your knees buckle and your limp body collapses against his, your walls rhythmically pulsing around him. Holding you upright, Nathan presses a soft kiss to the mark on your shoulder and nuzzles the crook of your neck with his nose.

“You’re such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you.

“Now, how about a bath?”

– – –

Lying in the softest bed you’ve ever laid in, feeling the comforting embrace of the satin sheets around your body, and thanks to the pain meds working their magic, you find yourself in heaven. Floating on a fluffy cloud. Mind empty. Content.

“Feeling any better?” you hear Nathan’s voice behind you before the bed dips under his weight as he joins you.  

“Mhm. Great meds,” you murmur into your pillow.

“Yeah, right? I feel like I’m floating.”

“Huh?” You turn around to look at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the trees and the wall-to-ceiling window opposite the bed. “What the fuck, Nathan? You can’t mix those with alcohol.” 

“No worries. My liver’s been training for this.”  

You scoff. He’s unbelievable. “Why did you take them anyway? It’s not like you got hurt.”

“The big, purple bruise on my abdomen begs to differ,” he chuckles. “You got me pretty good.”

You can’t hold back a little laugh. “You’re a baby.”

“And you get a little too bold when you’re high. I’d watch it if I were you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, your eyelids beginning to droop.

Nathan smirks and shakes his head at you. “Hey,” he lightly taps your shoulder, “wanna see something cool? Check this out.” 

He flips a switch on the wall next to the bed, and suddenly, the roof smoothly retracts, unveiling the vast expanse of the starlit sky.

It’s breathtaking.

“Pretty amazing, huh?”

“It is,” you whisper as your thoughts float away like dandelion seeds carried by a gentle breeze, dancing into the realm of dreams. “Thank you.”

The quiet in the bedroom stretches for a few minutes as the soothing embrace of sleep begins to claim you. Suddenly, Nathan breaks the silence with a soft murmur.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” 

“Hm?”

He sighs. “About your masochism. You never told me.”

“Hmm. I don’t always. Only sometimes.” You turn onto your side, your face buried in the pillow. A content sigh escapes your lips. “Can’t help it.”

“Don’t keep stuff like that from me. Tell me next time.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m serious, it’s–” He stops when he hears your rhythmic breathing. He leans over you and looks at your face. You’re sleeping. You look peaceful.

Nathan rolls onto his back and stares at the stars overhead for a few minutes, contemplating the universe and his role in it until your breathing lulls him to sleep.

– – –

Thank you for reading 🖤 ➝ check out my masterlist

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Lone Wolf.

Whoever said that all wild wolves are lone has lied. But striking out by himself has always suited him better.

… Hasn’t it?

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Snow and ice don’t bother him. The cold never has, not when he has his fur and muscles keeping him insulated.

But it doesn’t keep his stomach from dropping when he looks ahead, shielding his eyes from the blizzard. The gray sky, overcast with clouds, makes the world blotchy and muted. If the sun were out, it would be much worse--the light upon the snow would blind him.

His lashes are coated in frost and dropping, and he can barely see ahead in the white world. The road ahead stretches on for who knows how long, and the storm is relentless.

There is not a single mercy granted to him, but he sees it now: a faint, glowing ball in the distance, piercing the veil of fog. It calls out to him.

He's like a magnet, inexplicably compelled to it.

Jack does not remember how he ended up in this situation, only that his consciousness starts and ends in the vortex of snowflakes. He's searching for something, but he doesn't know what.

He grunts, nestling deeper into his scarf and coat. His gloved hands burrow into pockets. Unfortunately, his face gets no reprieve from the biting gales and the chill freezing any bit of moisture in the area.

It hurts to breathe. It feels as though he's inhaling tiny shards of ice instead of air.

Still, Jack trudges forward.

Seeking out the thing he does not know.

It's more difficult than it has to be. The snow is up to his knees, almost his thighs. The weight of it, an obstacle to his journey--demanding that he raise his legs high enough to clear the wall or force his way through it.

A waste of time and energy.

Keep going, Jack encourages himself. You'll find what you're looking for at the end of all of this!

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"

With a war cry, Jack grits his teeth and sprints. He charges with reckless abandon, a man driven mad by his travels. Snow slams his limbs, his chest, particles flying into his chin and cheeks.

His muscles cry out in exertion as they're pushed to their limits. Pain, pain--and, for once, Jack is thankful for the numbing effects of the brutal winter.

A building comes into view.

A cottage, crowned in a halo.

His breaths shallow, his heart still pounding.

Jack throws himself at the front door and barrels inside. He closes out the cold, his body slumping to the ground in victory. The cabin's warmth floods him just as quickly as the exhaustion sets in.

His senses kick back in, and he realizes he has likely intruded in someone's home.

He hauls himself up and tentatively calls out.

"... Hello? Hello, is anyone there?" Jack asks. "Sorry for uh, breaking and entering. I just need a place to stay until the storm is cleared out."

There is no answer, which causes a fresh wave of relief to wash over him.

They must be out. I'll hang out for a little while and be out before they get back. They won't even notice I was here.

Jack dusts the snow off of him. Some of it has already melted, leaving frigid trails of water on his skin and coat. He shivers, the cold finally hitting him at once.

The cabin is tiny, but comfortable. Photographs line the walls and sit atop cabinets, throw rugs thrown over the floors, knickknacks scattered about.

The space is very much lived in. A family of seven, by the looks of it: seven rocking chairs--small to large--against the wall, seven bowls of porridge out on the counter, one giving off a hefty cloud of steam. There are even seven beds lined up in the next room over, one thin and hard and another overflowing with blankets and cushions.

If I sit on the furniture, I'll definitely get it wet.

His eyes wander.

At the far end of the room is a roaring fireplace. The flames leap up and crackle, beckoning Jack to come close, to warm himself beside it.

He shuffles over, the heat gradually growing and drying him. Crossing his legs and sitting, Jack basks in the cozy glow. His muscles melt, and a contented whine slips out.

This bliss, he knows, cannot last.

He will have to return to the blizzard soon.

Out there, in that kingdom of isolation. Barren forests, icy mountains, walking along a path that was his own.

Yet here, with the roof over his head and the fire at his feet, he is more at ease than he ever was in the snowstorm. Food, clothes, shelter—all the essentials he needs to bear that freezing, cruel world.

His heartstrings tremble, as if a hand had ran along them, setting them all into a song.

Something is still missing. Something you need, something even more important than the necessities.

What is it…?

Jack’s lids lower. They’re heavy, both with melted snow and the urge to sleep. To pass out right there, on the rug, damn it all if the family finds a massive wolf beastman snoozing on their living room floor.

It’s a tempting thought.

His eyes close, and they stay that way for a second longer than he’d like. He tries to open them again—stutter, stutter, collapse.

The warmth of the fireplace knits over him, lulling him deeper into the trance. The winds outside seem so far away now, muffled by the sturdy walls of the cabin.

He feels himself lolling forward, but doesn’t feel the hardness of the ground.

Somewhere, a door clicks open.

Voices float in, fuzzy around the edges. He's aware of them, but fails to scrounge up the names.

They're important people, he concludes.

"... Oh dear. It looks as though we have an unexpected visitor."

"Whoa, is that Jack?! Why's he passed out in front of the fireplace?"

"Does the reason matter? He looks as though he has been through quite a bit."

Footsteps. Jack senses a body nearby, but is too tired to rise, to offer an apology. Fingers come upon his neck, then over his mouth, testing for a pulse, for breathing.

"He is fine, he's just tired. Let him rest--he'll need to collect his strength. Although... sleeping in such a position is awful for his posture. We'll have to move him to a proper bed."

A pause, the feet pacing.

"Cucumber, you possess the greatest upper body strength of us. Carry him. Epel, fetch an extra blanket. Potatoes 1 and 2, towels. Ortho, you still have that heat lamp function, yes? Let's put that to some use."

"Yes, Vil-senpai."

"Command confirmed. Engaging heat lamp mode..."

Epel? Ortho...?

A light switch turns on in the attic of his mind. Other names bubble up, resurfacing, and he plucks them out one by one.

"IT SHALL BE DONE!"

Sebek.

"Roger! I'll get those towels right away!"

Deuce.

"Haaah~ Can't believe we gotta look out for Jack just cuz the big guy couldn't look after himself out there. Oh well. Can't be helped."

Ace.

The storm lifts.

That's right, they are...

Vil reaches him.

"Welcome home, Jack. You've found your way back to us at last."

My friends, my family.

[maehemthemisfit]

— waking up to you

♡𝅼  xiao x gn! reader

♡𝅼  content : pure fluff + flustered xiao

Why do you love him so softly? He simply cannot help, but wonder how your laugh, could somehow make him melt.

XIAO couldn't fathom how he found himself between your arms, captured in your warmth and smothered in the depths of your covers.

His amber eyes fluttered open, fighting to keep awake as his lashes laid heavy with remnants of exhaustion. They soaked in the morning sun as his gaze melted onto you, a twinge of adoration blooming within his chest.

To see you sprawled over him, creating a tangled mess of his limbs and sheets— A leg thrown over his hip, your chest touching his. It was truly a sight to see, and the highlight of his morning. Xiao was thankful you couldn't see the way his cheeks dusted pink, or the way his lips wobbled as his emotions spilled over.

The past few days had been quite difficult for Xiao, his karmic debt becoming more of a burden the more he slaughtered and upheld his contract. Endless bloodshed washed over his hands, it was only a matter of time before he'd finally drown.

You grew worried by the passing days, but the Yaksha was relentless with his duty to protect, brushing off your pleads to rest more than he believed he had to.

Eventually, the call of his name felt like wails of withering souls and his head ached horribly until his body couldn't take much more. He collapsed before he could answer your call, eons of suffering finally taking it's toll. And when you uttered his name to no avail, you knew something had gone horribly wrong.

The next thing the adeptus knew, he was surrounded by people tending to his health and a very concerned Zhongli by your side.

The three of you had a very eventful conversation that ended with Xiao being placed in your care and his polearm being confiscated until he fully heals. As much as he opposed the idea, he couldn't deny being fond of spending time with you, so he begrudgingly accepted his fate with a pout and crossed arms.

Which leads to now, with his arms crossed over you.

"...Xiao?" His neck tickled at the fan of your voice and he watched you with curious eyes rouse from your slumber. You reminded him of a cat when you stretched your limbs, most of them unconsciously brushing against his skin, slowly enclosing him altogether.

He took this chance to hold you properly in his arms as his ungloved hands made their way to your side, turning you to face him completely in your bed as his other hand gently reached for you chin. They were soft and delicate, tracing up your cheek in a mesmerizing drift, nearly putting you to sleep again.

"I'm here," he stated, a slight rasp to his words. His morning voice made you lightheaded, although he couldn't tell, his eyes blinking tiredly yet marvelling yours. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Well," you hummed, a playful chime to your voice. "I woke up to the sound of your heart beating really fast... Is something wrong?" you did your best to hide your smile, catching the way his eyes flickered from yours.

"Wh-What? Nothings w-wrong you- I wasn't-" He stammered, quickly bringing his hand to his chest to double check, another wave of red flooding his cheeks.

You giggled softly, pulling yourself up to kiss his nose, another ghosting over the diamond at the crown of his head. "You're adorable when you're flustered, y'know?"

He finally caught onto your tease and huffed, hiding himself in the crease of your neck and pulling you close once more.

"Tch. You and your frivolous antics." He mumbled, though there was no bite to his voice.

His heart fluttered to the sound of your joyous laughter, and Xiao swore to protect the melody it brings, no matter how embarrassed your teasing words made him.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

[violettduchess]

Hello sorry to bother please can I have Keith Wizard Fluff for the autumn Halloween costume challenge? Thank you Have a wonderful day 🙏🤗

A/N: I'm just going to keep working on these for a bit! Here you go @queengiuliettafirstlady 💜You are never a bother sweet Julie.

Keith x Reader

WC: 528

You read by the wan light of your rose-shaped oil lamp, breaking wax seal after wax seal, pouring over pleas and invitations, requests and letters of flattery. Merchants and royals, guild masters and city officials. All of them demanding something, some more politely than others. You lay down another scroll, turning away from all the documents a queen must deal with, each missive screaming for your attention, your time, your energy. They are tiny little vampires biting you over and over, draining you until all you want to do is throw yourself across your incredibly comfortable royal bed, the one lurking on the other side of the room, bathed in moonlight like a siren of the seas. You long to answer its call and dive beneath the thick, brocade blanket, unsure if and when you’ll ever come out.

Keith, royal mage, advisor and the man you love above all things, notices the way you gingerly touch your fingertips to your forehead, pressing against the dull throb of a headache threatening to break free. He’s been leaning against the closed door of the bedroom, watching you for the last several minutes. There is little he loves more than observing you when you aren’t aware of him, watching the play of expressions across your face like sun-kissed waves over water. But now he notices how tired you are, how the day is still weighing heavy on you. He moves quietly for a man his size, his dark green robes whispering softly with each step. 

From behind, his strong hands rest a moment on your shoulders, finally alerting you to his presence without a word. “Keith….” With a sigh, you lean back in your desk chair, head tilting upwards to look up into the sunrise eyes you admire so much. His long fingers slide their way up to your temples and then start to glow, radiating soft yellow light, a glow that echoes the very first rays of sunlight that pry apart the curtains of night. Again, a sigh escapes you, relief flooding your body as his magic soothes the pain in your head, the stiffness in your limbs. Warmth blankets you, wraps itself around you and when the light emanating from his hands slowly fades, you smile up at him, all the love in the world reflected in your bright eyes.

“Come here and let me thank you.” You reach up even as he leans down, clasping the nape of his neck and gently press a kiss against his lips. He responds, bracing himself on the wooden arm of your chair, returning your kiss with a magic in and of itself. It begins soft and slow, comforting and sweet. His lips over yours speak soundlessly of love and tenderness. When you rise from your chair, stepping around it and into the shelter of his arms, it tells him everything he ever needs to know of what he means to you, of the way you love him and let him love you. The desk and all its papers are forgotten and as you fall, locked in each other’s embrace, onto your bed, it welcomes you with soft, silken arms.

Tagging: @xbalayage @alexxavicry @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @scorchieart @nightghoul381 @bubblexly @keithsandwich

[ethereousdelirious]

Hey Therie, I know you're suuper busy with Sicktember shenanigans...but if you had the time, I was wondering if you'd want to something with that F/ukuzawa headcanon? Totally okay if not, but your tags got that idea stuck in my head now and will not leave me alone 🤯😱🫣🤭

Never too busy for you, Poni!

A sharp bite accompanied the sea winds, which had been so mild only days before. The sun rose later, obscured by clouds. Cotton and linen gave way to fleece and wool.

Yes, it was that time of year. Winter had come to Yokohama.

With it, a promise.

A promise that had Mori making a great many calls to Fukuzawa until the day came that the tell-tale weight of congestion dragged down his voice when he answered.

Mori insisted on a meeting under a pretense that Fukuzawa was sure to refuse once he heard the details. But he was sure to hear Mori out anyway.

Ah, Fukuzawa. So... accommodating, in his own way.

His bright scarf caught the wind as he made his way down the docks, where Mori awaited in a thick black coat. Despite his thick kimono and haori, Fukuzawa shivered slightly and kept his arms close to his body, hands hidden in his sleeves.

Mori grinned.

"Good evening," he said, making only a token effort to hide his glee.

"Mm." Fukuzawa just nodded. His jaw moved subtly, shifting the wispy curtains of his hair, and a lozenge clicked gently against his teeth. After a moment's continued silence, he dipped his chin and glared at Mori.

"Alright, I'll get on with it." Mori had come prepared with a dozen excuses to drag the conversation on. It wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when.

Fukuzawa could hold out for a while, yes, but the determined furrow between his brows was nothing more than false confidence. Even now, his reddened nose twitched and shone at the corners. Even now, his lip trembled.

"You see," Mori said, gesturing grandly outward, "this patrol of the docks is starting to feel a little unbalanced to me."

He raised his eyebrows, prompting Fukuzawa to sigh with a smell of ginger. "Unbalanced?" he repeated gruffly.

"Well, yes," Mori purred, drinking in every blink, every slight twitch of the nose. Every little hint was a diamond in its own right, and Fukuzawa had come bearing riches. The pink tint to his eyes and nose was worth several thousand yen in its own right, the stutter of his breath even more than that. He sniffled, causing his breath to hitch, and there was another million yen. "You see, the nights are only growing longer..." Fukuzawa sniffled again, his chest stuttering. "...and all the more dangerous for it."

Mori paused again, licking his lips as he watched Fukuzawa's hand flex and relax, tracing a slow but true pathward upward.

"We've already intercepted a troubling amount of smugglers," Mori added.

Fukuzawa's hand found its mark. Slender fingers braced against the bridge of his nose, moving downward as he applied pressure to the bridge. Even still, a tear streaked down his cheek, gleaming silver in the light.

Mori suppressed a shudder, heat flooding his chest. "Granted, we haven't had any near-misses so far, but I'm the kind of man who likes to stay on top of things." Well, except in one particular circumstance, but moments like that were few and far between with Fukuzawa.

The fierce shine in Fukuzawa's eyes when he pinched his nostrils shut with his knuckles, well. That was almost better than sex. His pale lips parted to allow a shuddering inhale that gave way to a strangled jerk of his shoulders.

Ah, the prelude to a magnificent show.

"What I'm getting at here is that—"

"Hhnk!" Fukuzawa twitched and tears spilled forth from his clear eyes, coating his lashes and streaming down his cheeks. He shifted his hand, pressing the side of his finger just below the nose, applying heavy pressure to the philtrum. Still, he kept his eyes locked on Mori's.

The noise wasn't a stifle so much as a sneeze that hadn't properly escaped, and the frustrated growl that Fukuzawa emitted under his breath was enough to make Mori's toes curl.

"What I'm getting at," Mori said calmly, staring at those irritated, watering eyes, "is that we might need a little assistance from time to time."

The breath Fukuzawa took to reply was his downfall. He dropped his hand from his face, revealing twitching nostril and parted lips, and managed not a single word, just an almighty gasp that had him throwing his head back as though in ecstasy. "Akht'SCHRgh!"

Mori took a half-step backward and clasped his hands behind his back.

Fukuzawa's head reared again, lip curling and teeth shining under the lamplight. "HHhrr'rsSCH! HH'TSCHRRMF! Hahh..." His bleary, watering eyes opened, locking once more onto Mori's. Wet lips parted, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded... Mori crossed his legs. "HhhrRT'SCH!"

This was it. Winter's promise, fulfilled.

[aebi12]

Sinful Desires - Chapter 10

Alyssa loses count of the times she sings for him.

When her mind cannot remember any more songs and her throat is so dry from not stopping, she starts telling him stories. Despite the years that have passed, she still remembers his favorites, so she narrates them in a low voice, trying to remember the exact events about the Age of Heroes and the strange legends of the children of the forest.

Her persistence seems to have a positive effect on him because he has long since stopped writhing in his bed and, when Alyssa places her hand on his forehead, his skin no longer feels febrile. Relief floods her body as she wipes the beads of sweat from his face and a thank you to the gods escapes her lips.

Alyssa gets out from the bed and sits in the chair where she had found Helaena several hours ago. The candles and the fire in the fireplace have almost gone out, causing the room to be bathed in a dim light that makes her feel sleepy, and she fights the urge to close her eyes and sleep. She has to resist. She has to stay awake and continue to care for Aemond.

The princess drinks some water, clears her throat, and fixes her gaze on him again, the feeling of vulnerability he projects engulf her once more. For an instant, Alyssa sees before her the boy he used to be. Young Aemond, with his determined and arrogant manner, wearing his regal green robes and projecting a strong and unperturbed appearance to all.

But not for her.

Alyssa still remembers his shy smiles when she surprised him with some stolen snack from the kitchens, she also remembers the books he had read to her when she told him she wanted to know more about the history of the seven kingdoms, she remembers the times they had thought about the names they would have given their dragons if their eggs had hatched.

The sun begins to rise and the princess is lost in her memories until the door is flung open and Alicent Hightower enters the room. The young woman stands up immediately and the expression of astonishment on the Queen Mother when she notices Alyssa's presence is even comical for a few seconds.

"In the Mother's name, what are you doing here?" she demands to know as she strides over to Aemond's bed. The queen continues with her questions without giving her time to answer, “How did you get in? What have you done to my son? Ser Criston!"

The new lord Commander of the Kingsguard instantly enters upon hearing Alicent's panicked voice. The knight has one hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to defend the queen immediately. For some reason the image transports her to the night Aemond lost his eye, specifically to the confidence with which Alicent had invoked the safety of her sworn sword and the determination Ser Criston had shown at all times to protect her. Alyssa smirks at the memory and a smug little noise that the queen interprets as disdain escapes her throat.

"You have the nerve to mock after what you did to the prince" exclaims the woman

"I did nothing to him that he did not deserve", Alyssa says, unable to contain her temper. Ser Criston takes a few steps towards her and she steps back before saying quickly, “I came here to take care of Aemond at Helaena's request. You should call your maester, the fever has passed and I think he is better”

Alicent stops watching her and focuses her exam on her son. Aemond continues with his eye closed but his breathing is even and his mien looks noticeably healthier. Alyssa insists, “I have been here since nightfall, I have had a hundred chances to kill him, but I did not. That is not my intention"

"Ser Criston, call maester Runciter" she finally orders after a few seconds of hesitation.

"Is it wise, my queen, to leave you here alone with the princess?" Cole asks.

Alicent looks at the knight and nods resolutely, “I can control the princess if I need to. Besides, Ser Arryk is at the door in case she has any tricks” she says the last thing looking at Alyssa, who bites her tongue to avoid responding as she would like.

Ser Criston abandons the room and Alicent leaves Aemond's bed and walks over to where Alyssa is.

"Why are you here, princess?"

“I already told you, your grace. Helaena asked me to take care of him."

"Yes, my daughter had the impression that your closeness would help him in some way"

Alyssa doesn't know what to say to that so she just stays quiet until the queen speaks again.

"Were you watching his sleep all night?" she asks after examining her face

“I sang for him too,” she admits.

"Prince Aemond doesn't like songs, he didn't even like them when he was a boy."

Alicent sighs, tilting her face back toward her son's bed, and an unfathomable sadness settles in her expression, which throws Alyssa off balance. While looking at the queen's face, which shows deep circles under her eyes that denote her tiredness, the girl has the impression that this is the first time she has seen Alicent as a real person because, despite having known her all her life, the queen has always been an aloof, authoritative figure, a name spoken without affection by her mother and stepfather... but she has never been what she sees now, a woman, a mother who seems on the verge of collapsing with worry.

"I feel that I owe you an apology," she says without thinking, "I did not intend to hurt Aemond." Alicent observes her again, her eyebrows raised and her expression of distrust clearly let the young woman know that the queen does not believe in her words. She sighs, frustration arises inside, the need to justify herself is stronger than her, causing her words to come out in a rush, "I lost control for a moment. I am not a violent person, I would never hurt someone intentionally, but the impression on what happened with…” Alyssa shudders and shakes her head. She can't think of him. Not now, "The news I received caused me a great pain and shock and it was horrible what I did and I am deeply sorry"

Alyssa looks down for a moment, fighting the desire to shed the tears that flood her eyes. When she finally calms down, she breathes deeply and faces the queen, meeting once again with Alicent's sad look and, for a moment, she has the impression that the woman is not really looking at her, but it seems that she is lost in her own world. Alyssa only observes her until the queen leaves her trance and fiddles nervously with her rings.

"I'm sorry too, princess. It was never my intention for things to get to this point. I tried to find a peaceful solution, to deliver terms that your mother would be willing to accept, but…” Her gaze returns to her son's bed. She doesn't need to finish speaking because Alyssa understands. Any chance of peace was gone the instant Aemond had killed her brother.

The maester interrupts the silence in which they had been sunk when he rushes in. Ser Criston enters after him and his gaze falls on Alyssa, but she ignores him and follows the maester, who approaches Aemond after greeting the queen.

"How is my son?" asks the queen, moving away from the young woman.

“The fever has gone. The prince looks better, his body seems to be healing as expected."

Alicent breathes a long sigh of relief as she slumps back into the chair. The maester proceeds to remove the bandages from the wound to change them for clean ones, but the queen stops him.

“Ser Criston, make sure the princess returns to her chambers,” Alyssa wants to protest, but she continues, “You've already been here all night, there is nothing more you can do for him. Furthermore, it is not proper for a young maiden to be alone in a man's room."

Alyssa blushes violently at her last comment and is inwardly grateful that the room isn't totally bathed in clarity.

“Princess” Ser Criston approaches her and Alyssa knows better than to resist.

Besides, Alicent is right, her task there had already been accomplished. The young woman casts one last glance at Aemond before following the knight out of the room.

***

She is not exclusively confined to her rooms.

Alyssa can visit the gardens, library, or throne room if she so wishes.

Or at least that is what Helaena tells her the afternoon she goes to visit her to thank her for watching over her brother's.

“He woke up a few hours ago and the first thing he did was ask for you,” her aunt tells her, “He meant to get up and come to you, but our mother did not allow it. The maester gave him more milk of the poppy and now he sleeps again."

Alyssa just nods at all this information and if Helaena expected it to cause something in her, she is disappointed when she notices her niece's blank look.

The truth is that, having returned to the solitude of her confinement after being expelled by the queen from Aemond's room, Alyssa had practically collapsed from exhaustion on her bed. The emotions and physical exhaustion of the previous nights had drained her of energy and she had sought refuge in her sleep.

But this refuge never came.

If the princess managed to sleep it was only for a few minutes and she always woke up more tired than she had been before. Her dreams were plagued by her memories of Luke, their shared moments from childhood, their last conversation... Alyssa would wake up with tears in her eyes and pace endlessly around her room until she came back to the bed and the nightmares continued to plague her.

The truth is that she doesn't feel entitled to mourn her brother.

Alyssa thinks of her family on Dragonstone. She thinks of her mother, who had endured the loss of baby Visenya with great difficulty. How had Rhaenyra reacted to learning that her Lucerys, her favorite son, was no longer in this world? Without a doubt, her mother must have been in deep pain. And Jacaerys…did Jace already know that his beloved brother had died? Jace, who had spent his entire life taking care of them both. And poor Rhaena…

All of them can mourn Luke's death.

But not her.

Because guilt washes over her every time, reminding her that it was her lover who ended her brother's life. The lover she had spent the whole night taking care of, doing her best to keep him from death. When guilt invades her and her pain and emotion overwhelm her, when fear and uncertainty for her future come back to torment her, she only manages to press her nails on her wrists and find relief in the sensation of physical pain. The stings and aching from her open wounds are like a ground wire, allowing her to breathe and providing brief relief. Not that she deserves to feel that relief.

"The servants say you are not eating well," Helaena continues with a voice that denotes the concern she feels. Alyssa watches her face, the frown and sorrowful blue eyes of hers.

The princess shrugs, not knowing what to say. The food does not appeal to her. She knows that she should try to eat, but everything tastes insipid to her. Helaena gives up after a few minutes of silence and leaves her room after giving her one last sorrowful look.

Alyssa goes to her place by the windowsill and returns to her vicious cycle of despair, pain, and blood. There the servants find her at dusk when they enter with a tray of food and help her remove her dress to put on her nightgown. The young woman winces as the fabric of her dress brushes against her bruised arms and the girls look at her wounds and then at her with sadness in their eyes but without comment.

Alyssa does not care too much. She does not have the strength to pretend to be okay or to hide the damage she's caused. She just wants to be alone

***

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Maester Runciter is cleaning his wound, a clean cut already looking rose-tinted, “A few hours. You needed to rest"

“I have rested enough. Finish quickly with that for I have important things to do"

“Surely, it can wait, my prince. You were unconscious for two nights, you have to be patient."

Aemond wants to tell the maester that he can save his advice for whoever really wants to listen, but he prefers to keep quiet. If he is too eager to get out of bed the man will surely alert his mother, who will once again prevent him from visiting Alyssa.

The first night after waking, Aemond had agreed to drink the milk of the poppy out of consideration for Alicent. The queen had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown during the couple of nights he'd been unconscious, Cole had told him, and she still seemed very distraught despite the fact that he'd woken up, so he'd preferred not to upset her too much and had agreed to rest.

But he could not continue in bed. He had to talk to Alyssa. He had to explain to her what had happened, he had to tell her that…

What exactly was he going to tell her? Would he dare to be honest with her? To admit that Vhagar had gone against his orders and acted almost on her own? Would he tell her that he was sorry for her brother? Would he confess to her the fear he felt at the thought of her not forgiving him for what he had done? The brief confrontation they had had in the throne room was still on his mind. Alyssa had refused to be close to him and had looked at him with such contempt in her eyes that his despair had been endless. Perhaps that was why he hadn't noticed the moment when she had snatched the knife from him. "You killed half my soul," she had told him. And she had announced her intention to take revenge. Not that he reproached her or held a grudge against her for it. Aemond, to tell the truth, was grateful for the injury she had caused him. He would endure every blow she directed his way until her thirst for revenge was satisfied and, perhaps, she could forgive him. Maybe that way, they would find peace together.

The maester helps him put on a clean chemise and his mother enters his room, followed by a maid with a tray of food that she places on the table.

"Aemond" his mother gives him a soft smile as she walks towards the bed

“Mother,” he replies, unable to help but feel the satisfaction of receiving Alicent's visit, “It is late. You should be resting now"

"Not yet" she looks at the maester, "How is my son?"

“The wound has healed, Your Grace. The danger has already passed”

"I'm relieved to know that" his mother's smile widens a little more and Alicent takes Aemond's hand in hers, "The prince will heal completely then"

“Indeed, my queen. Soon the prince will be able to return to his normal activities and perhaps visit his dragon”

Aemond doesn't miss his mother's reaction when the maester makes the comment about Vhagar.

“In due time, maester. My son still needs to rest" replies the queen standing up and walking towards the table to take the tray of food, "Thank you, maester, you can leave us now"

Runciter does a little bow before leaving. Alicent walks back to the chair and places a napkin in her son's lap.

"What did the maester really mean by mentioning Vhagar?" asks the prince immediately

"It was just a comment, Aemond, it is nothing that…"

"Mother" he presses

She makes a face before huffing and speaking, “Vhagar has been restless these past few days. The keepers of the dragon pit tried to appease her, but were unsuccessful."

Aemond knew the poor men would stand no chance of calming his dragon, who had spent too long exiled and far from the dragonpit to learn to obey them, "Where is Vhagar now?"

“Flying over the Blackwater. She has not stopped releasing flares since you were injured,” she sighs, ““She sank two ships heading towards Essos”

"I'll visit her tomorrow," Aemond says, internally feeling pleased to know that his connection to the dragon is still present.

“I wish you wouldn't, Aemond. You are not well yet, you must…”

He interrupts her once more, "Did you hear the maester, I am fine." Alicent doesn't reply, but he knows she'll probably insist in the morning. “I am also capable of feeding myself,” he adds when his mother reaches out to him with a soup spoon.

"Let me, please"

Aemond does not protest again and allows his mother to take care of him that night. He cannot avoid, however, his curiosity. He has spent five days without news of the kingdom and he needs to know the situation in which his family is.

"Has there been any news about the war?"

"We are not at war," says Alicent as she moves uncomfortably in the chair. At the look her son gives her, she adds, "At least not yet"

"Mother"

"Nothing has happened since you were hurt, if you want to know"

"But there must be ..."

"It wouldn't be your business anyway," she replies curtly.

Something stirs inside Aemond. His mother avoids his gaze and the prince has the bitter feeling that he has lost Alicent's trust. She had always been very honest with him, perhaps too honest, always trusting her worries on his shoulders ever since he had grown old enough to understand the dangerous context surrounding his family and his heritage.

"Mother, I know that I was reckless and negligent," he begins, the need to prove his value to his family rising in him again, just like when he was a child who felt insufficient for not having a dragon to validate him, "I acted in a way that does not correspond to the way you raised me and I endangered our family. I am aware of that, but…”

“Aemond, stop.” His mother places her hand on his again and stares at him, “I won't pretend I am not…upset by what happened to princess Rhaenyra's son. But I do not doubt your loyalty to this family or to your brother's reign. I only wish things had happened differently."

Me too, he wants to say, but he just nods and his mother pushes the tray away after deciding that he's had enough to eat, " Anyway, I'd like to know what's going on, that is all."

Alicent shrugs before responding, “We have not received a response from Rhaenyra regarding the terms offered for her to desist from her claim to the throne. Not that we were expecting one."

“And hasn't his side attempted any action yet or…?” he leaves the thought in the air

"We only know that she collapsed after finding out what happened with her son" she lowers her head and begins to play with her hands, hurting the skin around her fingers, as she always does when she is anxious or worried.

"Did she say anything about the princess's situation?" He asks while he gently takes her mother's hands among his, preventing her from continuing with her nervous action

"The princess" she sighs and sits down again, "No, we have not received any demand from Rhaenyra about her daughter. Most likely, she does not know that Alyssa is here. Lord Larys says Aegon captured her on the way to White Harbor. Maybe the news has not yet reached her"

Aemond is surprised at what his mother tells him. His half -sister surely had spies in court, the news must have already reached her, the silence about the kidnapping of her daughter is most suspicious.

"My niece is a valuable hostage, I hope she is being treated according to her position" he says trying to sound nonchalant.

Her mother rests her brown eyes on his and Aemond thinks he recognizes suspicion in them, but the feeling quickly passes, “She hasn't been mistreated, if that's what you mean. She remains confined to her rooms and refuses the attentions of your sister."

Alicent presses her lips together in a thin, taut line that shows her clear disapproval of Helaena's attempts to be civil with Alyssa, but Aemond lets the gesture go, making a mental note to thank his sister for being nice to his princess.

"Are you relieved to know that?" asks his mother taking him out of his thoughts

"What do you mean?"

His mother shoots him an exasperated look, “Do not treat me as a fool, Aemond. The girl was watching over your convalescence all night and you did not stop calling her in the midst of your unconsciousness"

Aemond feels the color come to his cheeks and refuses his mother's piercing gaze as he tries to compose his expression so as not to show the emotion that overwhelms him knowing that his princess was with him.

Not that he hadn't suspected.

Although he did not remember anything specific after passing out, inside him the feeling of having been lost and wandering aimlessly remained. But he had heard Alyssa's voice. Aemond believed it had been his imagination, his memories of the times she had sung to him under the weirwood, but perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps it was her voice that brought him out of that state.

“I like to think that she was here motivated solely by the guilt of hurting you,” Alicent continues.

No, it couldn't be just that, could it? Aemond's stomach clenches at the thought and he dismisses it. No, Alyssa had been with him because she still cared about him. It had to be that the reason.

Alicent sighs, defeated and aware that she will get no answers from her son, “Be prudent, Aemond. It would not be appropriate or wise to let yourself be guided by your desires."

"Mother…"

"Sleep now. It is too late already"

Without telling him more, she places a kiss on the forehead of her son and leaves his room.

***

Aemond wakes up at dawn.

With great care and not without pain, he manages to stand up and get dressed, taking care not to open his wound by making any sudden movement. Fortunately, his bandages remain clean and he takes that as a good sign as he walks towards the door. Each step is difficult at first, but soon years of physical training and endurance take over and he is able to walk almost normally.

Ser Rickard Thorne is visibly surprised to see him standing by the door and hastily offers him his arm to recline. Aemond declines the offer.

"Should I call the queen, my prince?"

"I have matters to attend to that do not require my mother's attention" when the guard seems to star to reply, he adds, "Follow me if you must, but for your sake do not interfere with what I am about to do."

The guard nods and lets Aemond go, who moves slower than he would like until he reaches Alyssa's rooms. The palace is still absolutely silent and he does not run into any servants, however, there is a guard guarding his niece's door.

"Leave us, Ser Arryk," orders Aemond.

The young guard knows his prince well enough to try to talk him out of it, so he steps aside and wanders down the hall. Aemond knows that Ser Arryk is more loyal to his brother than to him and that he probably would be prying about his visit, but he doesn't care for now.

Aemond pushes the door open and enters the room, trying not to make too much noise, but his slow, heavy progress gives him away.

Helena? Is it you?"

“Not Helaena, I am afraid” he replies finally entering Alyssa's field of vision, who is sitting by the window, still wearing her nightgown and her messy hair falling freely down her back.

Alyssa's heart skips a beat at the sound of Aemond's voice. For an instant she believes that her mind is playing tricks on her so she stops looking at the courtyard of the fortress and turns her gaze in the direction of the voice, running into the tall figure of the prince, who walks awkwardly towards her. Her eyes drift inevitably to his stomach, to where his wound should be, now hidden under his layers of clothing. Aemond should have healed well if he could now walk without help. Alyssa experiences a brief sense of relief at the thought, before the little voice in her mind reminds her again that he is her enemy.

Aemond watches Alyssa's expression go from incredulity to concern and disdain in seconds. The fear of her possible rejection assails him again.

"Have you come to collect the debt?" she asks in a lethargic tone

"Debt?"

“For hurting you,” Alyssa specifies, “Is it time to pay for my daring in hurting you? Am I to return to the dungeons?”

Aemond does not know what to say, dungeons? A few seconds pass before he responds, “No, of course not, do you think I am here to hurt you? Do you think me capable of that?” His voice transmits his disbelief and pain at the possibility that she thinks that he seeks to see her suffering

"Do not even try," Alyssa replies.

"Try?"

"Do not try to act like you are hurt by the suggestion I just made," she says in a dismissive voice, "Do not try to act like you care about me."

"Please let's talk"

"Leave," she says quietly as she turns her face back to the window.

"Alyssa, please let me explain."

"I do not want to listen to you. I do not want to be near you. I am a prisoner here, I know, but I am not forced to bear your company. Leave this room” despite the harshness of her words, her voice breaks.

And so Aemond's resolution.

“Do you really want me to go away?” he dares to ask her

The audacity of his question ignites the rage inside her. Despite having spent another restless night and feeling her strength slipping away, Aemond's question manages to prompt her to get up from the window resolutely and stride over to where he is with the intention of physically hurting him again.

“Did you expect another reaction from me? Did you think I would run into your arms and thank you for killing my brother? I do not think you are stupid enough to entertain such hopes or consider me magnanimous enough to simply overlook your transgression."

Aemond staggers and nearly loses his balance under Alyssa's furious fists attack, but he does not try to stop her. He knows well that this was a possibility. He also knows that he deserves to take her hits and that she needs to release what she has inside of her.

The girl punches his chest and shoulders, trying to put all of her strength into each of her rounds, looking to hurt him, though it doesn't seem to have much of an effect on him. At some point during the outburst she starts to cry and air begins to escape from her lungs.

Not now, Alyssa thinks desperately as her ears cloud with the familiar ringing and her head spins. The feeling that her heart is going to burst and stop suddenly overwhelms her, so she tries to take breaths to calm herself, but it has no effect. Alyssa looks at her trembling hands and brings them to her wrists, seeking safety from the pain, but bigger, stronger hands take hers. Alyssa does not protest, she is not in any condition to do it, she just allows arms to wrap around her waist and her forehead comes into contact with something hard. The princess tries to breathe once more and this time a smell of musk and wood reaches her. The scent is familiar and she is immediately comforted. The girl closes her eyes and continues to breathe, the feeling of nausea slowly disappearing as well as the tremors in her hands and her heart beats again in a regular rhythm.

The door to her bedroom opens and Alyssa opens her eyes. Two maids carrying a dress and a tray of food enter, but stop abruptly as they take in the scene before them. The princess is then aware that she is in Aemond's arms, that her head rests on his chest, and that they are in dangerous proximity.

"Put those down and leave immediately" he orders, furious at the interruption.

The maids curtsy and hurry out, closing the door behind them.

Alyssa pushes Aemond away from him, walking to the other end of the room. The anger has disappeared and the shame has settled in her, she cannot face him yet so she remains with her back to him.

"How did you get those wounds?"

“They were courtesy of your brother,” she replies after clearing her throat. She knows that, despite the days that have passed and the maester's ointments, her face still looks bruised, as does her throat.

Aemond suppresses a curse and balls his hands into fists. He is going to have a very serious talk with his older brother, but that is not what he is worried about right now, "I am talking about the wounds on your arms."

Alyssa ignores his question, "Leave, Aemond, I want to be alone."

He sighs, "Let me explain, please."

"Explain," she lets out a humorless laugh and turns to him, "Are you going to tell me the details of how you murdered my brother?" There had been a time when she had wanted to know exactly how things happened in Storm's End, but now her curiosity has been quenched, "Go away, Aemond, let me mourn my brother in peace."

Aemond owes her at least that much. The prince turns, ready to leave, but he has one last question.

"My mother told me that you took care of me all night," he asks turning to her.

"At Helaena's request"

“You sang for me,” he says in a low, melancholy voice. The princess bites her lip hard, how does he know that? Had Alicent told him? Alyssa doubts it. As if he could read her thoughts, he adds, "I heard you sing to me in my dreams."

Alyssa doesn't quite know what to answer, so they stare at each other for a few long seconds until she speaks, “You don't deserve an apology from me, I do not mean to give you one, but I will say that I was wrong to hurt you. I found no satisfaction in hurting you and taking revenge did not bring my brother back."

Aemond nods slowly after hearing her answer. Alyssa had always been a much better person than him, he knew that well. His Alyssa was light to his darkness and even though he had hurt her greatly, she had shown her kindness by taking care of him. Even though her actions were merely guided by her guilt and the realization of that hurt him, it felt good to know that part of her was still there.

The prince starts to walk towards the door, but she calls his name.

"Aemond, there is something I want to know" the anxiety and pain is reflected in her eyes, "Did you feel good after killing him? Did it feel good to finally get your revenge after all those years of waiting?”

Her question throws him off balance because, honestly, Aemond doesn't quite know how he feels. He knows that he regrets chasing Lucerys after leaving the castle, he knows that he should have been able to fight his temper, but… was he really sorry for his nephew's death?

Aemond is saved from answering because for the second time the door opens and Helaena enters the room with Ser Arryk. The gentleman tilts his head, noticing that Alyssa is still in her evening clothes, and focuses his gaze on Aemond.

"Sorry to interrupt, my prince, but the king orders the princess to go immediately to the throne room."

“Thank you, Ser Arryk,” Alyssa replies. The knight bows before leaving and the princess looks at Helaena, "I suppose this has to do with the absurd announcement he made the day he brought me to the fortress."

"I'm afraid so" sighs her aunt

Alyssa nods. Aemond looks at the two women, visibly confused, “What announcement are you referring to?

The princess raises her eyebrows at him, “Didn't they tell you? Your brother intends to take me as his second wife."

For the first time in days, Alyssa feels a surge of joy and satisfaction as she watches Aemond's horrified and furious expression as he hears what she has just told him.

_________________________________________________

Read on AO3: Sinful Desires by Aebi12

[pentagonieslut]

mm how abt a mini fic series because i thought about this pair and it made me just gush. can’t think of a name for it yet i’m sorry 😔

tags: m!body, bxb, idolxidol, sub!havit, dom!junseo, vamp!havit, uni student!junseo, barista! junseo, camboy!havit, white hair junseo, milk white hair junseo

warnings: blow job, pet play, rough sex, dirty talk, choking, biting, the good stuff, mention of blood / blood drinking due to vampire havit, jealous sex, merinthophilia, voyeurism (camboy havit), public sex, slight femboy!havit

(ain’t prepared, don’t you dare. always wrap before you make it clap. safety first.)

junseo screamed in surprise at the smaller male, who was stirring his tomato juice in the dark. grabbing his chest and turning on the light, he leaned against the entry way of the kitchen and raised a brow. “alright you little vamp. what’s up? you’re never like this unless you forget to take sleeping gummies, stressed, out of sleeping gummies, or you’re planning on sneaking out.” junseo said as havit continued staring blankly, ignoring the technical younger.

“you’re out of blood? or is the gummies?” junseo asked as he finally started moving around and getting himself some coffee whilst checking on both things. “i’m out of blood and gummies. i’ll go get some more later though.” havit finally replied as he turned around to face the other. “i know. because you leave your little notes everywhere.” junseo said, answering the next question that was about to leave havit’s mouth. “i’ll pick some up when i come back from class.” nodding his head, havit just got up and headed back to his room after patting the other on the shoulder and receiving a smile in response.

how junseo and havit met was by pure chance. havit needed someone to stay with him in his penthouse when he went out for night hunts and junseo needed a place to stay. it’s been like that for a few months now and the two were really close. junseo even found out about his secret two weeks after moving in. but he has yet to know his biggest secret.

arriving at the cafe, junseo had started up the coffee machines, turned on the food warmer, and set out the displays of treats. turning the sign over and playing some music gently, junseo was ready to work. slowly the other workers came in alongside the flood of patrons who were quick to get what they wanted and leave.

havit woke up to the sun slowly starting to burn his skin. shooting up and going to change, havit stumbled out the house with his phone falling onto the floor with a thud. “shit shit shit.” he said as he sprinted to the coffee shop to get the coffee only the owner of the shop knew how to make as he was a supernatural himself.

nearly falling face first into the shop, havit caught himself and stood up quickly, smiling at the owner who had chuckled softly and pointed to the back. havit slipped towards it and went to the fridge where he had spotted it almost instantly due to the cup design being a design meant for only him. “tell junseo i said good luck!” he spoke quickly as he made his way to his hideout where he found doha keeping watch in his wolf form. yechan was also in his wolf form, rolling in the grass happily. in the corner was yoonwoo who was eating a steak with his hands, his tail wagging.

“ah hey havit! we managed to find a few blood packets and make a couple for you. we got the large packs. hopefully your human can find more.” yoonwoo said as he finished eating and cleaned his plate up. havit thanked the youngers and went to grab them to pack away, leaving them the gifts he had picked up along the way.

making his way back, havit glanced at the time and quickly franked down the last of the coffee he had from earlier. entering his room and shedding his clothes to put on a butt plug tail, sit on his knees, and start his stream, he mewled softly as fans flooded in and typed what they wanted to see him do. “a-ah~” he moaned at the cock ring he had on, it’s vibration going higher and higher until it reached its highest point.

“p-please let me cum, master.” havit moaned softly, the dings going off in donations as everyone egged the cute male on. after he heard the 14th ding, he moved the camera as he shook and rubbed against his pillow quickly, cumming instantly. he smiled softly at the camera after he came down from his high, moving onto his knees and wrapping his mouth around the dildo he had placed to do pov style cams. after sucking for a while and squishing the pump to release the ‘cum’ he had, he stuck his tongue out for everyone to see before swallowing.

“you want to see me get dicked down by someone?” havit read the comment and chuckled softly, raising a brow in amusement. “maybe. we’re gonna have to see.” continuing to read the comments, he became shy and laughed at a few of them. “i’m a straight male but seeing you has me questioning myself..please do when you watch me. that’s all i ask for.” he said with a cute grin. “i’ll see if i Can get people for my event next week. i hope you all stay tuned for it! yes, my only fans is still running and has special events and items and videos for anyone who wants to subscribe!” he said as he slowly ended the livestream, turning off the camera and cleaning up his mess. it was almost time for junseo to come back.

realizing he only had his lingerie and a pair of shorts he hadn’t worn since he was in high school, he didn’t have time to think as he heard the door start to open. sprinting into the taller’s room, he grabbed a random sweatshirt from him and slipped it on, now noticing he had the tail on still. too bad he liked it and really didn’t want to remove it, whether or not junseo noticed it. but deciding for the better, he removed the tail and put on his small pants that seemed to fit like spandex.

exiting his room as if he wasn’t panting from sprinting around, havit went into the kitchen and pulled out ingredients for spicy stir fry pork. “ah hey, i was going to cook for you.” junseo said as he placed down the paper bag that contained what havit liked. “it’s okay. i was going to go crazy if i didn’t eat anything anyways.” he said as he turned his back towards him to stir the veggies.

“how was class?” havit asked as junseo shook his head and sighed. “not once in my life have i ever wanted to not be considered a campus cutie for the millionth time. the campus queen kept hitting on me, i have to write a song and produce it for a project, more like an album, and try to dodge the girls every time i’m walking to class.” he whined as havit only laughed and seasoned the meat. that’s when junseo noticed just exactly how small havit looked in his sweatshirt. his favourite one at that. the one the centuries older male gave him as a gift for his birthday in apology due to him entering a feral phase from the first supermoon that had occurred of the season.

“well if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be at your school. i’m modeling for one of the art classes and my friend needs help with his class since they’re preparing for their look book projects. i said i could help choose their styles.” havit said as junseo widened his eyes. “no. that can’t happen. are you going to be okay?” junseo spoke quickly, havit only shrugging. “you’re there. if anything i can eat a lot now, and hide when i get a chance.” junseo sighed and nodded his head slowly as he helped plate the food and get the side dishes out. “question. is my room a mess? or did you already mark which one you wanted to take before i left?” junseo asked as havit glared at him.

it started. junseo teasing the elder. “come on, i understand that as you get older, you tend to go back to being a kid again in a way. or does that not apply to ageless vampires? my tiny little havit, i don’t want to have to be a mean papa and scold you for running about and playing by yourself.” junseo teased out as havit moved in a flash, his hand around junseo’s neck within seconds of teleporting. “i’ll make sure you struggle to move from all the blood loss.”

calming him down, junseo carried him to the table to sit as they started eating, havit drinking an extra four animal blood packs along with the meal to keep him full for tomorrow.

havit and junseo walked together, junseo’s arm veins showing from his stress and frustration at how havit insisted on taking the tiniest bottle of juice with him. “i-i’ll find you as soon as i’m in crisis. i promise. if not then..you can take away my animal packs. i’ll eat coagulated blood.” the angry junseo was incredibly sexy in havit’s opinion, ten times more than when he has messy hair and man spreads blankly. he can never seem to have an angry junseo often enough to get off to so when he gets the rare chance to see it, he’s shaking within seconds.

“fair deal. i’m going to class. i assume you know where the art class is.” junseo said as havit nodded and tapped his nose as their reassurance signal. visibly relaxing, junseo whispered a quiet “be careful” before speed walking to his class.

havit didn’t realize that the art students were extremely advanced and finished within 20 minutes of the 52 they were given. “next pose please.” havit posed once again, this time acting like he was shocked by something. once they finished all that they needed, he was free to leave and that’s exactly what he did. he left as he drank his small bottle of what was not blood but rather banana milk mixed with a bit of hennessy. finishing it off and throwing it out, he got lost as he wandered around as his friend had canceled today due to an unprecedented event that his wife’s water had broken.

spotting the large lake behind the building, he went down to it and squatted down as he spotted a tiny gathering of fish near him. he took out his crumble bread he had and broke it into tiny pieces as he fed the fish with an amused smile on his face. he had fun watching and playing with the fish, not really minding the attention he was receiving from the passing students. “hi cutie! you already ate majority of the food. little joe didn’t have any!” havit said as a baby trout came up to him. “but i understand. you need to grow so eating lots will help.” “it will also help if i don’t go into a jealous rage and try to lose my life while doing so.”

hiccuping and glancing up, junseo towered over the other as he had a stern look on his face. havit only let out the nervous chuckle. “a-are you on break?” he asked as junseo only nodded and helped him stand up. “wait a second. did you say jealous rage?” havit asked as junseo froze as he turned away. “i’ll buy you something from the cafeteria.” havit smiled to himself. so he wasn’t the only one who felt something. typical junseo.

arriving back at the house, havit disappeared into his room and immediately got to work on doing a quick stream whilst junseo took a shower and did a little bit of his work. trying to be as quiet as possible, havit shook as he jacked himself off and used the other hand to move the dildo he had in his hole. “oh fuck. that feels so good..” he whimpered out as he came and his cum landed on his stomach. smiling softly, he stuck his tongue out because of the flooding comments of wanting to see his face. he ended the live abruptly, leaving the fans hungry.

[vvartorn]

tag dump !

[vvizardry-archive]

tag dump !

[vvitchcraftt-old]

tag dump.

[suna-reversed]

Icarus’ Irony ☀️

Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

alternative title: “but I crumble completely when you cry”

2k+ words

Minors DNI‼️

A/N: if you haven’t already seen this cosplay, go get some Toji brainrot

Warnings/Tags: mentions of violence, manhandling, dacryphilia, mild dub-con, fingering, mating press, cum play, breeding kink, size difference, cheating, smoking/alcohol, shotgunning, degradation, slight praise, angstt, hurt/comfort

“Do you know of how Icarus fell?”

His question snapped you out of your post orgasm daze. You looked up at him from where your head rested on his bare chest, thighs straddling his lap, quivering a little as you pulled away to look at his face in the moonlight.

“He flew too close to the sun?”

Toji looked deep in thought as you answered, nodding his head slightly,

“Ah yes, he did…”

You almost purred as his warm hand slid up your thigh, kneading the sore-marked flesh,

“ ...but that wasn’t what what damned him”

He paused again, dangling the lit cigarette held in between the index and middle finger of his other hand, the same fingers that were buried deep inside of you not too long ago,

“...his ruination came with his desire. The closer he got, the more he craved. His delusion didn’t even let him feel the searing heat that burned through his flesh. He was too lost in thought of the eternal glory he believed he’d found.”

Toji adjusted his gaze to meet your eyes, the acrid scent of smoke hitting you as he leaned forward. His actions seemed slowed and you found it hard to differentiate the golden aura around his silhouette from his actual self. Has he always been so ethereal? 

“Do you think he smiled?” 

“Huh?” you mumbled out drowsily, your head falling back on his chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent. night-chilled mist and cedar. His hoarse chuckle sent shivers down your spine. 

“I asked, do you think he smiled...knowing he was the only one to ever get that close to the sun, even if it destroyed him in the end?”

You heard Toji take a puff out of his cigarette and your breath hitched as a hand came to your jaw, tilting your head up as he exhaled out the smoke in between your parted lips.

How had he stayed this long tonight? Usually, you’d be cleaning yourself up by this time, no trace left of the man who had been whispering sultry words into your ear while pounding into you from behind moments ago. He was never this talkative afterwards either. 

“Why are you asking me this?”

He leaned back, turning his head away from you. The slightest of change could be sensed in his posture as you hesitantly brought your fingers up to trace the scar next to his lips. He’d grabbed onto your wrist halfway before it could reach his mouth everytime that you had tried it before, growling a low “wanna try that again?”, that usually led to you being stuffed full of him once more. Perhaps he was too high to care tonight?

“Why am I asking you this?” A dry laugh left his throat as he finally looked back at you, still making no attempts to pull your hand away from his face. 

“because I think you’re flying dangerously close; whether for warmth, for lust, for love; whatever it is, I have a feeling you’ll go down smiling even when the light sets you aflame.”

You were too lost in his eyes, your mind clouded by the feel of his unclothed skin against yours. How did he get the scar? Had he ever told you? Did she know about it? A burning sensation formed in the pit of your chest as your eyes slid to the gold band kept neatly on the nightstand. He removes it every single time; right before he sinks to his knees with a moan, saying his prayers in between your thighs as your heels dig into his spine. 

You couldn't register his words anymore. It all sounded like incoherent gibberish, perhaps that's what it all was. Perhaps, that’s all everything he’s ever said was. 

“I only stay with her because of my son” 

“I’ll get a divorce soon enough” 

“She wont let me live in peace if she finds out-”

All gibberish. Garbage. Empty promises. Lies. Words that held no meaning.  

His lips were still moving, but all you could hear was the loud ringing in your ears. Suddenly, the sensation of his flesh against yours felt like too much. You couldn't breathe as bile rose up to the back of your throat. You pulled your head away from his chest, but the warmth wouldn’t leave you, the wet feeling on your cheeks worsening the burning of your skin. 

Why was he still speaking? Could he not see that you were dying?

Shut up, shut up, shut up-

You found your lips moving out of their own accord 

“Leave-leave me alone I hate you”

The sob that ripped from your throat made you feel like you had just been pushed off from a skyscraper, feeling the end nearing, but it never quite seemed to come. 

Your incoherent pleas of being left alone continued as you felt muscular arms wrap around your figure; your sobs getting louder as you felt yourself being picked up, and then laid down on the plush mattress that still held the remnants of your previous feat with the man above you. 

You didn't realise you had been thrashing until a hand grabbed onto your wrists, bringing them together as Toji used his weight to pin your struggling body down, his other arm coming around to pull you into his chest, effectively muffling out your screams. 

Your sobs took a while to die out; leaving your eyes burning, throat dry, and the throbbing pain in your head worsening by the second as you continued to stare at the chipped ceiling past his shoulder. The same ceiling you had stared up at as he had ruthlessly rutted into your cunt, calling you “his obedient little slut”- “his cumdump”. 

That’s what you’ll always be, isn't it? 

You felt the grip around your body loosen, the weight lifting off of you slightly as your eyes came in level with his face. He held an unreadable expression like always. A bitter laugh escaped your throat as you looked back on all the times you had dreamed of the scar next to his lip twitching up, only for you. 

“Stop it.” His voice was smooth, your body instinctively reacting to his command. You hated it. But you still did have control over your words, 

“Fuck off” 

You saw his eyes darken, his hand moving up to grab your jaw harshly, 

“What was that?”

Smack!

Your palm burned as it landed, the skin of his cheek already tinting a deeper shade of crimson. 

Heavy silence hung in the room.

You gasped in shock as you felt a pair of lips crash down onto yours, Toji’s tongue making its way into your mouth as you groaned. You contemplated biting his tongue, but the rational part of your brain seemed to be dulling out more and more the longer that his tongue remained clashing with yours, his hands moving up your abdomen to grope your chest, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples. 

You shut your legs together as his hand tried to slither in between, but your efforts were to no avail as he grabbed onto your thigh, holding it away, not even wasting a second to dip his fingers into your heat. You felt your face heat up at the wetness he found there. Toji moved back to sit on his knees, thumb circling your clit as you tried not to let out any more sounds of pleasure. 

“You hate me huh? Then what’s this?” His fingers pumped in faster inside of you making you arch your back, a cry of shame leaving your mouth. 

Toji grabbed onto your thighs to push them up to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulders and biting at the tender skin he found. A loud moan left you as you felt him line up with your entrance, the tip already making you feel the stretch of his huge girth. 

You opened your eyes, only to be met with the same chipped ceiling once again. Tears welled up in your eyes, making your vision blurry as you felt a sob bubbling in your chest, pitying your own resolve for breaking so soon. 

But then you felt something rub against your cheek. A calloused thumb brushing away the tears as a forehead came down to press against yours, and you found your orbs locked onto the malicious ones of the man you had wrecked your sanity for. 

“You are…” he sighs out, and you grunt as he slides deeper into you, “...the only thought that plagues my mind.”

His lips meld with yours once more as he finishes his sentence, both of your moans being muffled against each other’s mouth. 

“...all-the-damn-fucking-time” he thrusts into you in between words. It's the closest he’s come to being gentle as his strokes, though slow, still hit deep inside of your dripping cunt. His hips jut into you more intensely as you bite his lip, hands moving up to entangle themselves into his dark locks.

You were crying and moaning and screaming all at the same time as his cock hit all the right spots, the pain of his huge member still being evident even after it had fucked out your pussy countless times. But it was drowned out by the pleasure as his fingers found your clit once more, hastily rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves as he picked up his pace. You found your face contorting in pleasure soon enough, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts as you felt your climax coming. 

“C’mon, go ahead, cream all around my cock like the good girl you are.” He grunted, voice deep and dripping in honey.

The coil in the pit of your stomach snapped as his tongue licked its way up from your neck to your jaw. Toji continued fucking into you as you rode out your orgasm, your body spasming from the overstimulation as you felt your insides being filled with thick spurts of cum. Toji groaned, pulling back to look at the sight of your cum-filled cunt, collecting the slickness that had dripped out of your hole with his thumb, only to push it back inside.

You were too tired to move a muscle, too tired to cry or curse him as he got up, walking out the bedroom door. The hollow feeling once again flooded your chest as you shut your eyes, hoping to wake up from this endless nightmare. 

Your body jerked awake as you felt something cool slide against your thigh. You snapped your eyes open, lifting your head, only to find the man you had just cussed out a thousand different ways sitting on the edge of the bed, a wet cloth in his hand. You were too stunned to say anything, staring at him as he inched forward, continuing his task of cleaning up the mess. 

You let your head fall back against the mattress, sighing as the conflicting thoughts in your mind continued to race on. You found yourself being lifted, a blanket being put over you before your head was pulled into a warm chest, arms wrapping around you as a hand cradled the back of your head. Your thoughts all disappeared away, the familiarity of his body becoming almost cozy as sleep took over your senses. You thought you heard him mutter something, but then again, you might as well have dreamt it.

----------

Toji found his hand lingering over the door handle as he glanced at your slumbering figure. Sighing, he walked back over to cover you with the blanket that you had kicked off. 

He found his own mind flooded with conflicting feelings as he walked out of your building. He had never stayed the night before. Moreover, he was trying to find a justification for the three cursed words he had muttered last night.

He decided to blame it on the nicotine that was clogging his system. Even though he had felt his high clearing as soon as he had seen you sobbing and moving away from him, your face filled with disgust. He never wanted to see you feel that way about him again. 

He looked down at the golden band clutched tightly in his palm. The metal was starting to rust. He was surprised your curious little mind didn’t notice, didn't ask him why - because real gold didn’t rust. He found his mind flashing back to the first time you had asked him,

“Are you...seeing someone?” 

He hadn’t known you for too long then, but the tug in his chest each time you were around made him want to disappear out of existence. 

You made him want to lose all restraint, and what would the man be if he lost his sense of identity, the only armour he harboured; his rigid demeanour. 

The lie had rolled off his tongue easily enough, switching over the band on his index finger to his ring finger under the table. Lifting it up for you to see, he had felt his heart clench at the flicker of sadness in your eyes. But that seemed to work as even more proof for why he had to draw a boundary around himself.

You burned like a thousand fires, your brightness blinding, your warmth creeping up to thaw the ice around his heart.

It terrified him.

How he always ended up coming back for more, how he ended up breaking a little more each time his name slipped past your sweet lips, how he’d vowed to destroy anything that dared cause you agony. Even if it meant destroying himself. 

Toji Fushiguro finally knew the answer to his question. 

He too, would go down with a smile if it was you lighting the match to his pyre, if it was you ripping the wings off his back.

After all you were the only light in his life, his precious sun.

How does it matter if he burns himself out trying to get closer to you?

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[fictionalwh0ree]

tired*- jj maybank

summary: you fall asleep on a rock at the beach after some rough sex with jj the night before.

word count: 769

warnings: smut- slight degrading kink, slight praise kink, slight choking, swearing

you had plans to go to the beach with your friends. the problem was, you were absolutely exhausted. whenever you weren’t attempting to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you were yawning. you, sarah and kie had found a spot on the beach and placed your stuff there. jj, john b and pope had decided to come by later. you laid down for a second, almost drifting off.

“you coming?” sarah asked

“yeah hold on,” you figured going in the water would help wake you up.

reluctantly you got up and walked down to the water. you followed sarah and submersed yourself. it had woken you up enough to play in the water for an hour and a half.

when you all exited the water, kiara sat on one of the beach chairs to dry off. you looked around and saw a patch of semi-flat rocks. you took your towel and walked over to them, carefully laying your towel down. you laid down on your stomach and rested your head against your arms. the warmth of the rocks radiated onto your body and helped keep you warm. the memories from last night flooded through your brain.

jj pulled your shirt off as fast as he could, throwing it across the room. you tugged at his shirt and he peeled it off, throwing it in the direction of your tshirt. soon all your clothes were scattered across his bedroom floor, all without interrupting the make out session going on. you two pulled apart and jj frantically searched his drawers for a condom. he turned to you before opening it.

“you wanna keep going?” jj asked

you nodded eagerly, your wetness starting to drip on his bedsheets. he slid the condom on. your lips reattached and he flipped you onto the mattress. he was now on top. he brought his hand down and let his fingers trace your folds.

“so wet already, baby?” he cooed

you looked up and nodded, causing a cocky smirk to make its way to his face. he lined his dick up with your pussy. his tip teased your entrance mercilessly.

“stop teasing, j,” you whined

he pushed it into you with no warning, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth.

“such a little slut,” jj said between moans.

he kept roughly pounding into you, each push hitting spots you didn’t know anyone could hit. your hands began to scratch his back repeatedly. jjs lips attacked your neck with kisses, love bites and hickeys.

“whos pussy is this?” he questioned demandingly, wrapping his hand around your throat.

“yo-yours,” you answered as best you could.

his dick began to twitch inside your tight pussy and he pulled his hand away from your neck and put it above your heat. he pushed his thumb onto your clit, rubbing it in circles.

“shit, j,” you moaned

“you’re so fuckin pretty,” he said between pounds.

every push and circle was getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. you swore you’d lose your voice due to all the yelling, moaning and profanities that exited your mouth as jj pounded into you. soon your walls began to clench around his dick.

“jj i’m gonna cum,” you yelled

“go ahead, cum on my dick,” he smiled. you released all over his condom, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“good girl,” he praised

he helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling out. he hastily pulled the condom off and pumped until he cummed all over your tits.

you smiled at this memory. maybe you wouldn’t have been so tired if jj hadn’t insisted on going in for three more rounds, you thought.

soon you drifted off to sleep on the very rock.

“hey where’s y/n?” jj asked sarah

she looked around before pointing at the rock.

“she fell asleep on a rock,” she said

“a rock?” jj laughed

“yeah, she was pretty tired” sarah said

jj smirked and thanked her. he walked over to where you were sleeping and crouched down. you immediately woke up.

“you’re blocking the sun,” you mumbled, opening one eye.

“you fell asleep on a rock,” jj commented

“it’s actually pretty comfy,” you paused, “for a rock”

“were you tired after last night, baby?” jj asked, only slightly mocking you

you nodded a bit and then turned your head and closed your eyes. jj laughed and then placed a soft kiss on your lips. you smiled slightly.

“mhm now move, thanks,” you mumbled.

he chuckled softly and pulled the hat off his head and placed it over yours before walking back to the group.

[svenotes]

stay with me | jjk

❝ maybe staying another night at your boyfriend’s isn’t such a bad idea ❞

[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader

[ GENRE ] : established relationship au + smut and a smudge of fluff

[ WORD COUNT ] : 6k

[ WARNINGS ] : oral sex, some real good tongue technology on jungkook’s part, fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, creampie, LOTS AND LOTS of dirty talk, jk calls oc ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’ way too many times, oc worried that her bf is going to get tired of her, some mentions of anxiety, jk is the sweetest bf and even sweeter at sex, there is barely any plot and just a lot of sex im so sorry 

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i'm on my period and i got horny and then this happened

masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post

“No.”

Jungkook shuffles behind you, the bed moaning. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

You shake your head, failing to suppress your smile as you slip on your thong. However, it does little to hide you from him. Glancing at the mirror, you see him shamelessly stare at your ass, licking his lips before he meets your gaze through the glass with a boyish grin.

You turn around to face him. “You’re going to ask me to stay.”

Jungkook hums, eyes dancing across your bare skin, darkening. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he admires you, confidence swelling in your chest and you take a moment to admire him. He sits at the edge of the bed, naked and yours, white, silk sheets pooled around his lower abdomen.

Your eyes trace over his rigid muscles, and your fingers itch to touch him. Even under the dim light, he is beautiful with his dishevelled hair and swollen lips. You finally meet his gaze and swear your knees almost give out. Heat pools in your stomach when you see the hunger in his gaze, breath hitching in your throat. Your thighs press together reflexively and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Wrong.” Jungkook pulls you at you until you're straddling him. He cranes his neck to press butterfly kisses along your jaw. “I was going to ask you to not leave.”

“Baby.” You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands. “That means the same thing.”

“Don't care,” he hums, pressing a firm kiss against your lips. “Don’t go.”

His plea tugs at the strings of your heart. It’s hard to say deny him. It’s especially hard to deny him with his dick hard, prodding against your thigh and his lips coercing you to stay cocooned under the sheets with him. However, the anxiety that builds in your chest is overwhelming and the thoughts that kept you up the night before still linger.

“Jungkook.”

“Unless you’re telling me you're staying, I don’t want to hear it.”

You giggle, leaning down for a sweet kiss. Minutes pass by before you pull away with a burn in your lungs and clouded mind. He chases after your lips, but you tilt your head for his lips to press against the corner of your lips, to his reluctance.

“Baby,” you start, “I need to go home and get new clothes. I’ve spent the entire weekend here and now I have nothing to wear.”

“I like you naked, anyway.” He grins as you slap his chest, failing to bite back your smile. “You can wear my clothes.”

“I have no underwear left.”

“I have a laundry machine.” He traces every curve of your spine, sending shivers down your back. “You’ll have clean clothes tomorrow.”

You brush the long strands of his hair from of his face. “I could grab some new clothes and come back tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be dark soon,” he reasons, unhooking your bra with two fingers and you cock a brow. “Leave in the morning — after breakfast. Dangerous people come out at night, y’know? I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

“You would’ve won me over with that one if you didn’t unhook my bra,” you remark, pinning him with a look.

“Really? Wait, lemme redo that—!” You let out a heartfelt laugh, throwing your head back and he grins. “Seriously, don't go. I don’t want you walking outside late at night.”

“The sun’s only about to set, I can get home before it gets too dark.”

Jungkook’s brows pinch together, lips curling downwards. “You’re trying so hard to leave. Why?”

Your heart misses a beat and you pray he doesn’t notice the hesitation in your eyes as anxiety swells in your chest. Your worries flood your mind as a reminder as why you must leave.

“You're going to get sick of me if I don't give you some space.”

“I could never get sick of you,” he retorts, holding you closer with a shake of his head. “And I don't need space from you. Wanna keep you in my arms forever.”

Your gaze softens on him and his cheeks are coloured pink. “Kook.”

“I don’t want you to leave — not tonight.” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. “Want you to stay with me.”

You indulge in the idea; one more night. You could stay one more night. You could. However, the fear in your chest does not allow for it. You’re scared — worried if he spends every waking moment with you he’ll soon get tired of you. Perhaps it’s a stupid thought considering you’ve been dating for over a year now, but the dread still lingers. No matter how much you reason with it, it haunts your thoughts — keeps you awake in the middle of the night even as he rests in your embrace.

He drags you from your reverie, pressing a kiss against the sweet spot under your ear and you let him have his way for now.

“Don’t go,” he says again in a whisper, pleading with his eyes. “Please. I want you to stay.”

Before you can answer he leans down to press his lips against yours. His lips meld with your own in a fervent kiss, his hand trailing down your body and tracing the curve of your ass, as he presses himself against your core. You roll your hips against him as the kiss becomes more sloppy and desperate with every press of him against you. Waves of pleasure shoot down to your core, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

His lips trail down the underside of your jaw, pressing a wet kiss against your pulse. A coil of desire begins to tighten at every nudge of his shaft against your nerves, nails digging into the skin on his back in response.

“Ngh — Jungkook, please,” you urge as presses his hips against yours, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.

“Please, what, baby,” he hums, smirking against your skin. “Use your words.”

“Touch me. Please, ah,” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillow. “Need you to touch me.”

He throws your unhooked bra to the side. Bringing a hand to wrap around your breast, he squeezes it adoring how soft and pliant you are under his touch. You arch your back as his tongue flicks against your perked nipple.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his warm breath fanning across the pebbled bud on your breast. “Thought you had to go, hm?”

“Jungkook—!”

“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied,” he says, hoarse, searching your eyes for an answer. “I won’t let you go until you’re begging me to stop. Do you want that?” He rolls grinds his cock against your core, groaning. “Won't stop ’til I feel your hot, tight pussy milk me for every last drop. Ah, wanna feel you fall apart on my cock, see you all pretty and full of my cum, hear you beg for more and more until you break.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, the hot, white coil tightening in your stomach. You wish so badly for him to be inside of you when you clench around nothing. His lips wrap around your perked nipple, licking and biting you, eliciting the sweetest of moans from your lips as his tongue swirls around your bud.

Your thread your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands at the nape of his neck how he likes it. He moans against you as you continue to experimentally roll your hips against him, desperate for some friction — for him.

“Do you want that, too, baby?” He asks, leaving a trail of kisses up the valley between your breasts. “Means you can’t go home though. You’ll miss your train if you let me do the things I want.”

“Are you sure you’re not going to get tired of seeing me every day?”

You try to laugh, but your voice comes out strained and full of worry. It doesn't sound like a joke as you hoped, voice shaking as you ask your question. Your heart thunders in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.

Jungkook stills, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed and eyes full of confusion.

“You think I’m getting tired of you?”

You look away from his piercing gaze and he doesn’t like it. Taking your face in his hands, he urges you to meet his eyes and you find yourself meeting his concerned gaze.

“Talk to me,” he says, softly.

You take a deep breath, eyes flickering to your hands resting against his chest. Mustering the courage to open up, you meet his gaze again as he patiently waits for your response, a thumb rubbing soothingly against the soft skin of your cheek.

“I—I’m scared that you're going to realize I’m not as great as you think I am,” you begin softly, voice shaking. “I’m worried if you spend too much time with me you'll get sick of me. I’m scared you’re going to get tired of me and leave me.” You pause, noticing the bewildered expression on his face. “I wanted to leave so I could give you space in case you wanted it. I didn’t — I don’t want to suffocate you.”

He’s silent for a long moment and you know it’s because he’s collecting his thoughts. However, a part of you still worries. You worry it's because he realizes he has grown tired of your presence. You worry he realizes that you have too much emotional baggage and doesn’t want to deal with it. You worry because you have a hard time accepting someone’s love.

“I haven’t done a good job at being your boyfriend,” he starts and your eyes widen, “if you’re thinking I’m going to get sick of you.”

“No,” you reply immediately, cupping his face. “It's not you. It’s my insecurities — my anxiety. You’re more than perfect. You say and do all the right things, Kook. I just… I’m scared one day you’re going to get tired of me — tired of constantly reassuring me, sick of having me around all the time and clinging to you.”

You’ve talked to Jungkook about it before. He knows about the thoughts that keep you up at night — the worries that gnaw at you until you’re in tears. He knows and he stays. He tries to help you in every way he possibly can. He holds you when you need it, whispers reassuring words, comforts you no matter when or where. He’s there for you in every possible way because he loves you.

But sometimes your anxiety gets the best of you — especially when it comes to him.

“Baby,” he starts and it’s hard to meet his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I will never get sick of you.”

“You don’t know that—!”

He cuts you off, “But I do. I know because I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will. Every moment you’re not with me all I want is you. All I can ever think about is you. You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it. All I ever want is you beside me, in my arms, in my house with me. I always want you right beside me — right where you belong.” A pause. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you, too.” Your response is almost immediate and he smiles, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips.

“Do you know how much I love your laugh?” You’re silent. “Do you know how much I love making you smile; how much I love waking up beside you and falling asleep with you in my arms. How much I adore your victory dances when you win games and your snoring—!”

“Hey!” You complain, but there’s a smile curling on your lips to match his.

“I love you so much — every single part of you — I couldn’t possibly ever get sick you. I love you so much I don't ever want to let you go.”

Hesitantly, you look at him and let the sincerity of his words sink in. His eyes are full of adoration for you and your heart is enveloped by a sudden warmth only he can elicit in you. Lifting your hand between your bodies and extend your pink finger to him.

“Promise?”

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his small finger around yours before sealing the promise with a sweet kiss. “Promise.”

“Okay,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I wasn’t being too clingy this weekend? I wasn’t bothering you or being annoish—!”

“I’m going to stop you before you say more things I don’t like.” He smothers your face in his hands, eyes narrowed. “Remember, I wanted you here this weekend, too. And I want you to spend another night because I love you and I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“Okay,” you murmur, shyly. “I’ll stay the night.”

“Good. I want my pretty girl beside me,” he chuckles under his breath, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. You notice his eyes grow softer, an emotion you cannot decipher hidden behind the awestruck in his eyes that leaves butterflies in its wake. “Move in with me.”

You blink. “What?”

“I—!" His eyes are wide as if he didn’t expect himself to say the word himself. His eyes flicker downwards before they meet yours again with purpose. “I want you to move in with me.” A deep breath. “My apartments too big for just one person and I miss you whenever you’re gone. You spend more time here than you do at your own place anyway. Move in with me.”

You search eyes and all you're met with is sincerity. “Are you sure?”

“Yea,” his smile is soft but it makes your heart swell. “Yea, I'm sure. I’m tired of waking up every morning and not having you beside me.”

“Moving in?” You ask, uncertainly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready. And you don’t have to give me an answer tonight or tomorrow. I want you to think about it and if you’re not ready, that’s okay because I’ll wait for you. You’re worth the wait.”

“Kook—!"

“I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, ___.” Your eyes widen at the declaration and his cheeks are coloured pink despite the bright smile on his lips. “I know we’re not there yet, but I want you every single day for the rest of my life. So while I wait for you to be my wife, I want to move in with you.”

Jungkook momentarily stills before he realizes the soft pressure against his lips is your own, smiling into the kiss as he closes his eyes. He kisses you tenderly and sweet, but there is desperation behind them. You’ve kissed Jungkook thousands of times but he still makes your head dizzy as he slips his tongue between the seams of your lips. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, your fingers tangled in his hair and his own pulling you closer towards him.

He pulls back first, a string of saliva connecting you before he places another firm kiss against your lips. “Was that a yes?”

“Yea,” you breathe, grinning. “Yea, it was.”

He flips you onto the bed with practiced ease, your back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you. You giggle as he places butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, face hidden in the crook of your neck. “My pretty, pretty girl.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes.”

“I want to cum.”

He laughs, pulling away. “Shameless, too.”

He leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s a hair's breadth from your cunt. His fingers brush against your closed slit, arousal leaking through the flimsy material as he presses against your core. Your breathing becomes erratic when he presses a kiss against your clothed lips.

“Baby — fuck.” Your eyes roll back as he drags his tongue to your clit, the friction from the fabric on your nerves driving you crazy. “St-stop, agh, teasing.”

“You’re not in the position to make rules, baby,” he says, rubbing against your clothed clit. “I’m going to take my time with you — have you begging for me to taste your cunt. And when you do, I’ll use my tongue to lick every little drop of sweetness from your pussy. Make you come on my mouth over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”

You whine, “Please.”

He teases you, moving your underwear aside just enough to lick a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. Groaning, he meets your eyes as your underwear slides back in place.

“You taste so good, baby,” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your thigh. “And you're so fucking wet. Bet I could slide right into you.” His fingers are back on you, brushing against your clit but not enough to do anything. “You want me, baby?”

Your arch your back in response to his next ministration. “Yes.”

His touch is gone just like that and you whine, brows furrowed in frustration. He snaps the waistband of your thong against your skin with a smirk.

“Beg.”

“Jungkook—!”

You’re about to complain, but he cuts you off. “Beg or I’ll fuck myself using that pretty mouth and leave you dry. Tell me, baby, how bad do you want me?”

“Please, baby, I need you.” Your hooded eyes meet his heated gaze. “Need your fingers, mouth, cock — you. I need you so bad. Wanna feel you so bad, please.”

“Could be better,” he muses before he presses a kiss against your clothed core. “But I’m impatient.” He taps your hips. “Up.”

Helping you out of your underwear, he brings his face towards your core, blowing against your opening. His nose brushes against your thigh as he places another kiss against the soft skin, hooking your legs over his shoulder.

“You’re soaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

You hum, contentedly when his tongue brushes against your slit. “All for you.”

“My pretty girl,” he rasps, nose brushing against clit. “So wet and needy for me.”

Before you can complain again you feel his hot, wet tongue press harshly against your lips before he drags it up to your clit. He swirls the rosy muscle on your clit, teasingly until your moaning and breathless. Without warning, his lips envelop around your throbbing bud, sucking in full force you scream his name as your hips buck. Warm hands hold your waist down as he hums, tongue licking against your entrance again. For a moment he dips inside you, moaning at the taste of your sweetness before going back to suck at your clit the way you love it and you see stars behind your lids.

He repeats the motion over and over, swirling his warm tongue around your swollen bud and sucking it in a way that has you forgetting your own name. Against your slick lips, he whispers praises, before he slips two fingers into your warm cavern and curling his fingers inside you.

“O-oh, fuck—!” you gasp, fingers tangled in his hair. “Don — mmngh — don’t stop, ngh.”

“Gotchu,” he grins when he finds your sweet spot. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“S-so good.” Your nails scrape against his scalp and he emits a low groan. “So fucking good, fuck.”

His fingers continue their onslaught at a new pace, brushing roughly against the spot that leaves you breathless. His lips are back on your clit like a hot suction and you scream out from the overwhelming pleasure.

“So fucking tight,” he muses, pressing a kiss against your bud. “Your pretty cunt's taking my fingers so well, baby. You sound so pretty while I fuck you with my fingers, but you sound prettier when you cum, you know that?”

Your head is spinning from euphoria, ecstasy and the lack of oxygen, but it doesn't matter — not when he's bringing you closer and closer to your release.

“Mngh — J-Jungkook!” He sets a new violent pace that leaves you overwhelmed as he hits your sweet spot. His name falling out your lips like a broken record while he licks at your juices, groaning against your cunt when you fist his hair and pull him closer to you. An electrifying coil in your lower abdomen tightens, building further when his ministrations bring you closer and closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers, bucking your hips further into his hand, whimpering as you say, “God, yes — ngh, fuck. I’m so close.”

“Cum for me.”

Euphoric pleasure slowly, yet surely floods through your body, his lips enveloped around your sensitive bud as he curls his fingers against your soft spot. With one last flick of his tongue, you fall off the euphoric cliff as he laps at your juices. He presses harsh, but sure circles against your clit with his thumb as you ride out your orgasm. Your hip spams, thighs trembling as he coaxes you through an indescribable, mind-blowing release that leaves your vision white.

His lips don’t leave your nether regions, wincing at the oversensitivity. You tug at his strands of hair but he shakes his head.

“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, licking the fruits of his efforts once his fingers slip out of your dripping cunt. “Wanna have you crying my name. Wanna show you how much I love you. Will you let me?”

You lift your head from the pillow, leaning on your elbows as you sit up. He holds your stare, smirking before he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit to your sensitive bud and you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens to keep you in place before he lowers his head between your thighs, the hot suction back on your clit.

“Agh, Kookie.” You throw your head back, chest heaving. “I’m too—” Gasp. “—sensitive.”

“You can take it.” A kiss against your nether lips. “Wanna show you how much I want you — how much I love the taste of you. I’m not letting you go until you’re begging me to stop. You up for that? Want me to remind you how good I can make you feel?” He dips his tongue back in you and you hiss. “Can you be my pretty, little slut, baby, hm? You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”

“Y-yea.”

You feel him smile against your thigh. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”

“You.”

“That’s right.” A rewarding stroke his tongue. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. Will you let me play with this pretty cunt, baby?”

He watches you with hunger in his eyes and the desire to have him use you as he pleases to seek his own pleasure overcomes you.

He brushes his tongue against your swollen nub, and you gasp, “Yes.”

“Pretty girl,” he hums and you’re immediately wrapped around his finger. “Do you want to be my perfect little slut?” You nod, meeting his heated gaze, a wolfish grin curling on his lips. “You're too good to me, you know that, baby?” He teases his tongue around your entrance, eliciting a whine from you. “My pretty girl.” Lips wrap around your clit and you scream, body falling limp against his sheets. “My perfect, little slut.”

And with that his tongue is on you, violently bringing you to another release. You are oxygen and he is a man deprived, burying himself deeper in your cunt. A growl emits from the back of his throat as you thread your fingers through his hair, your winces from oversensitivity shifting to moans of pleasure. He finds home between your thighs, reluctant to leave as he licks at every drop of sweetness you grant him. Jungkook brings you to release over and over until your tears stream down your face and you find it hard to take the pressure of his tongue against your overly-sensitive nerves.

With one last wave of pleasure washing over you, he pulls away. His cheeks are coated with a warm fuchsia, lips parted as he looks at your cunt with a predatory gaze. From his nose to his chin, he is covered in a sheen of your juices, eyes blown out as they meet your own.

He adores your fucked out expression, your chest heaving while you catch your breath. His tongue swipes at the remnants of your release on his swollen lips, the back of his hand wiping the excess off his chin before he leans down to catch you in a short kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes search yours for any sign that you want to stop, but he finds nothing.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“You told me you would make me pretty and full of your cum.” His gaze hardens on you, dark eyes trained on your own. “‘M not full of your cum yet. Can you fix that?”

“Such a greedy slut.” A smile grows on his lips as he leans down to your neck, nipping at the skin. “I made you come on my mouth so many times, but you still want more. Greedy, needy slut.”

“For you.” You wrap your legs around his waist as you grind yourself against his dick. “Only for you.”

He groans, hips rolling in rhythm with yours. “You like being my slut?”

“I like being yours.”

He stills for all of a second before he breaks out into a grin, laughing as he presses a kiss against your lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pulls his lips back on yours. As he leans towards you, his shaft presses against your folds. You’re barely able to focus on the kissing as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he grinds against you, coating his length with your juices.

A knot forms in your lower abdomen like a hot, tight coil wanting to snap. You can already feel yourself get needy at the feeling of his length against your folds, but before you can act upon it—!

“Tsk.” Jungkook clicks his tongue against his teeth as he catches you trying to slip his cock past your folds. “You want my cock?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze, eyes lazily meeting his. “Want you inside me.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, baby.” You furrow your eyes at that, mouth opening in protest. “Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want to be fucked by my cock.”

You frown. “That’s not happening—!”

There’s a teasing pressure against your pussy that makes you gasp, eyes rolling back as your mouth hangs open. A soft whimper escapes from you as he adjusts his cock to rub against you, mixing his pre-cum with your juices.

“What was that?” He asks, smirking and you glare at him through your lashes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I can give you everything you want if you just—” he leans down until his lips brush against your ear, his finger grazing over your sensitive clit and you hiss, pushing your hips against his hands for more, “—beg.”

Again, you ignore his request but more so because he aligns his cock to prod against your cunt and you cannot focus on anything but your need to have him buried in you. You can feel the sudden weight in the pit of your stomach as you lick your lips.

“So hungry for my cock,” he grunts. “You want something to fill you up so good you forget your name, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry at the lack of attention on your sex. “Please.”

“Please what?” He asks, lips curling because he knows he has you exactly where he wants. “Words.”

“Please fuck me,” you give in, frustrated as your walls clench around nothing. You’re hungry for more — body craving more of what he’s willing to offer; of the undeniable pleasure he would provide if you just gave in. “God, I want your cock — need it. Need you to fill me up, need you to fuck me — nngh!” You moan, body going rigid against his as his head rubs against your swollen bud, fingers tweaking at your perked nipples. “Want you so bad, baby. Wanna be your perfect, little slut so bad. Have me however you want, I don’t care — do whatever you want to me. I don’t fucking care.” You grind yourself against him, chest heaving as the desire for him to fill you up becomes desperate. “Just fuck me, baby, please.”

“That’s my girl.” He rewards you with a kiss. “I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll fill you up with my cock. Gonna bury my cock deep inside your slick cunt. Gonna stretch out your walls so good no other cock will be good enough for you — no other cock could ever fill you up like mine. No one will fuck you better than me.”

“That’s right, baby,” you urge. “Make me yours.”

Painfully, slow he slips his cock into your warm cunt, groaning. He’s big, in both length and grith, causing a slight burn accompanied by an abundance of pleasure. Moans fill the room as he fills you up to the brim, inch by inch until he no longer can. Your hot, slick walls clench around him and he groans, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Stop that,” he growls, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re so fucking tight, ah. If keep you do that I’m going to fucking blow my load.”

“Do your worst, baby,” you say, eyes hazy. “I want you to ruin me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, unsheathing himself from your cunt until the tip is nestled an inch within your entrance and then slams himself back into you. A lewd moan erupts from both of you as the stars decorate your vision. You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, eyes rolling back every time he sinks back into you. With each thrust and roll of your hips, he rubs himself against the spot that leaves ecstasy rushing through your veins.

“You’re so, agh, hot like this.” You can feel the pressure build in your stomach, the coil tightening with every brush of him against your sweet spot. “So hungry for my cock.”

“Feel so good in me,” you moan, watching as his dick slips in and out of your cunt. “Fill me up, ah, so good. Fuck, take what’s yours, baby.”

He visibly shudders at that before latching his lips on your perked nipple. His tongue laps around the perked bud on your breast, spare hand coming to knead the other before he swaps breasts.

You groan, dragging your nails down his back, sure to leave a mark. “Oh, fuck.”

Your eyes roll back as the head of his cock brushes roughly against the spot that has you seeing stars. He has your toes curling, his name coming out like a mantra as he ravishes your body, moaning into your neck. A knot of pleasure tightens, burning like a hot coil and he knows with the way you pulse around his dick that you’re so, very close.

You can taste the bits of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, but it’s still not enough. You need so much more and he hears it in your pleas.

“Puh—please,” you breathe as you feel him press his lips against your pulse. “Hard—oh, my God.” You barely get the words out of your mouth before he’s ploughing into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Ngh, like that, fuck. S-so good, baby. Feels so good.”

“Yeah,” he groans, biting your neck. “So good to me, fuck. Such a good fucking girl.” At that, you squeeze around him and he lets out another lewd moan. “You gonna cum?”

All you manage is a nod and a sharp breath of air. His hand slithers down your body to find your clit and he presses against it harshly, eliciting a hiss from you. It’s oversensitive from the multiple times he made you cum on his tongue, but he doesn’t care because he knows you love it. He’s quick to rub circles around the bud and smirks to himself at your vocal response.

“Don’t — ah — stop.” You feel the coil burn more, pleasure building in your body like rapid fire. So fucking close to your next release, even as the sensitive bud stings. “Gonna — ah — gonna cum.”

His lips are eager for yours, pressing against them in a searing, hot kiss as he tries to coax the orgasm from you with his sinful lips. You can taste yourself on him and hum. His release threatens to unravel before him, but he fights against it so he can feel you wrap around his cock when you cum. He lifts himself off you to admire the blissful look on your face as you slowly become undone before him.

“Pretty girl — ngh,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over your cheeks and you whimper. “All mine. Come — ah — for me, hm? Come all over my cock, baby.”

Sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clenching around him as he fucks you hard. Every thrust leaves his head nudging against your sweet spot, clouding your vision white. A fire builds within you again, leaving you to gasp for air between every moan.

“Kook, I — ah, I can’t come—” Moan. “I can’t come again.”

Softly rubbing against your clit, he presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good slut for me, tonight, baby. You can do it. Come around my cock for me.”

And with his words and one last thrust, the burning coil snaps, pleasure rushing through your body in euphoric waves. Your veins flood with ecstasy and he soon follows, his seed coating your walls. Overwhelming pleasure unravels within you both like a wildfire, spreading across your bodies as he continues his pace to ride out your highs. His lips find yours once again, pressing a lazy kiss against yours as you both ride out the last remnants of your orgasms.

Once he’s caught his breath, he slowly slips out of you, lifting himself to admire the way his seed spills out of your pretty cunt. You feel his cum spill out your cunt, down your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he says aloud and your lips curl into a tired smile. “So dirty and full of my cum.”

He leaves the bed, heading towards the washroom to grab a warm cloth and you lay there, tired. Exhaustion seeps itself into your bones, lids heavy as they flutter shut. You don’t hear Jungkook return, but rather feel him when a warm cloth brushes against your swollen pussy, cleaning you up. He’s swift to clean you up the best he could before attending to himself and putting the rag away. Maneuvering over you, he brings the blanket over your bodies, nudging you to lay beside him.

“You were so good, baby,” he whispers as he pulls you closer towards him. “Always so good for me.”

“Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Are you tired?”

“Yea.” You nuzzle against his chest finding comfort in listening to his heartbeat. “I honestly could’ve knocked out after that first orgasm.”

He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. “Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We do?” You furrow your brows. “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna help you pack your boxes so you can move in by the end of the week.” You laugh along with him, throwing a leg over his own as you get comfortable. “Are you sure? You really ready to move in?”

Unable to hide your smile, you press a chaste kiss to his chest. “Yea, I’m sure.”

"You’ll be stuck with me for a long time,” he hums, exhaustion washing over him. “I won’t be letting you go for a while.”

"You better not.” Your smile quickly turns to a frown when you finally notice. “Jungkook?”

“Yea.”

“I'm hungry.”

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