#A Dim Valley

[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon forbidden west | marshal ivvira 1/?

[star3synth]

i have progressed further into pokemon ranger: soa and i have discovered two things:

the ice lake ost? beautiful. amazing. so pretty. could listen to it on a loop for a long while and not get bored of it. probably one of my favorite tracks in the game honestly

the actual ice lake puzzle? infuriating. took me forever to complete and made me want to punch a hole through a wall. bonus points for me taking forever to even get back on land only to find out that i took the wrong path and then i had to go back to the start and take even more time trying to get out of the lake the correct way

(i was falling in so many whirlpools and it took me like a whole hour to get out of this stupid lake guys. but at least the music was nice lol)

[endykelopaedia]

sometimes the creative itch strikes a terrible time & place because now i need to write an indeterminately long fic about caroline and the wizard and DIVORCE! oh my god i'm taking serious psychic damage over here

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I thought I was going to be cursed forever (actually: for at least a day) trying to get zinc sunscreen off my face, but I made this DIY scrub mixture of literally just brown sugar, olive oil, and honey, and it took off the sunscreen RIGHT AWAY! (Note, I did not wet my face first, though.) Aaaaand it made my face soooooooooooooooooooooo soft, like, wooooooow. I'll have to pay close attention to whether or not it irritates my skin over time because I have super dry skin (especially on my face), but if it at least works to get the sunscreen off in one go, I'M PRETTY FREAKIN' HAPPY!

[dollwrites]

ᴅᴏᴏʀ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｔｙｐｅ ┊ goonette isekai! ( 7k follower event )

ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ ｗａｒｎ��ｎｇｓ ┊ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, pwp, creampie, cum play, titty sucking, all characters featured are aged 18+

ｉｍｐｏｒｔａｎｔ ┊ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

Rafayel is a creampie addict.

whether it’s because he loves the way you look with his cum leaking out of your freshly fucked hole or because it’s his way of claiming your body, marking you as his mate, you didn’t know for sure. the only thing you could be certain of is, whenever he started to twitch and throb inside of you; whenever his balls drew up tight, and his ragged panting melted into a needy chanting of your name on a mindless loop, that he was going to cum inside you.

“Raf, ffffuck!” you crooned, breathless and undulating on the mattress beneath him. your back arched up from the surface to push your chest flush to his face, your right hand buried in his mauve tendrils so deep that you could feel the beads of sweat as they drench his scalp, and the heat of his fever transferring deep into your palm. you were gripping those sticky locks, holding on to them for some semblance of control as he rutted into you with wild abandon, his head dipped low to suck on your swell, whilst his hand fondled with other, his thumb mimicking the way his tongue flicked at your pebbled nipple, swiping over the taut flesh and nudging the little bud from every angle.

it was this lavishing of affection, paired with the rapid-fire, shallow pumping into your core, that had your eyes crossing with unadulterated pleasure, and your body trembling as you drifted closer and closer to a release. “I’m getting close, baby…” you half-plea, rocking your hips up to meet him in a sloppy, slick joining. if Rafayel was anything, he was a skilled lover. he knew that you didn’t need to be stuffed full on every occasion, and so he experimented with how many inches to fuck into you each time you laid together. tonight, though his thrusts were quick and greedy, he was only giving you half of his length at a time, letting the swollen, leaking tip of his cock head bully the spongy cluster of nerves that made up your g-spot until you were shaking and sputtering, instead of fucking you deep and steady.

“Yeah?” he asked upon prying his mouth away with a wet pop. his voice husky and low, and saliva glistening against the pink lower tier of his kiss-swollen couplet. his own complexion, though typically porcelain, had taken on a dusky, rosé glow, especially against the apples of his cheeks, the tips of his ears, and the expanse of his chiseled chest. his mouth, though still parted and panting out puffs of hot breath against your hardened nipple, curved into a strained smile as his eyes searched your countenance, equally lovedrunk. “Wanna cum with me, pretty girl?” he asked, his eyes darkened as he buries his face between the valley of your tits, breathing in the scent of the sweat oozing from your pores. his eyelids fluttered as he drank it in, like a man intoxicated, and you felt the warm, bumpy surface of his tongue flat against your flesh to lap at that essence. “Oh, fuck, tell me,” he murmured, muffled, as the lower quarter of his face disappears into your cleavage, but his eyes gaze up at you, the purple hues within them dim and stormy. “Tell me that you want me to make you finish while I cum in your warm, little pussy.”

you nod, eagerly, your voice breaking out of desperation as you tug on his hair, unsure of whether to pull him up to kiss his lips or smother him between your tits. “Y—yes, Rafayel! Please, make me cum with you!”

you’d hardly gotten the beg out before Rafayel was responding. sitting back on his haunches, he allowed almost every inch to slip from your clutching heat— until only his the bulbous head remained notched just beyond the threshold. you mewled at the lack of fullness in your depths, but your disappointment was soon replaced with pleasure. Rafayel allowed his hands, soft yet strong, to slip under your hips and drag your body close, until your bottom rested on the slope of his legs, keeping your lower half elevated on his lap. “C’mere, baby…” he breathed out, one hand splaying out against your lower belly, fingers stroking beneath your navel, allowing his thumb the reach he needed to paw at your clit in tight, concise circles. your own hands, that had initially reached out for him when he shifted positions, now fell back against the pillow your head rested on, fisting handfuls of it, unneeded, while Rafayel tended to your body. you moaned his name, your head tilting up so you were staring at the ceiling, brows furrowed, focusing wholly on his perfect ministrations.

“You look so cute like this,” Rafayel murmured, more to himself than to you, his free hand gripping the girth of his cock tight. he was still slick with your juices, and he used that to his advantage, pumping the exposed inches instead of plunging into you, to the rhythm same rhythm he assaulted your clit. the treatment elicits of moan from his parted lips, that bubbles up from deep within his throat. “— squirming and needy, chasing your high for me. Come on, pretty girl, cum on my cock for me.”

a few more encouraging words and Rafayel’s thumb running laps over your button is all that you need before you catch that orgasm you were so desperately chasing. you hear his voice, as soon as he saw you were about to be engulfed, whisper harshly, “Look at me,” and you were barely able to obey, your eyes flitting to his face just in time to glaze over. you maintained the unfocused eye contact, stars forming in your peripherals, and Rafayel doesn’t let up, coaxing you with furious strumming on your swollen clit to ride out the orgasm he’s giving you. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, knowing damn well the only response you could give him was a strangled yip and a half nod, his breathless smile widening, “Yeah? I know, baby, I know. I feel it, too. I’m cumming,” he growled, pumping himself erratically a few more times before he spilled himself inside you. warmth seeps in, spreads through your shallow core, and dribbles out in thick, streamers when Rafayel pulls his sated, softening cock from you. your cunt clenches, one last stitch effort to keep him anchored inside you, which ultimately pushes another rope of his creamy release out of your freshly-fucked body.

Rafayel sat back on his haunches for several moments, panting, with his twitching cock now draped, flaccid, over his sweat-sheened thigh, as he gazed down at his handiwork— his hands finding your trembling shape. he felt along the flare of your hips, up over your waist, his thumbs gently massaging the flesh there as he eased you out of your aftershocks with gentle fondling. “Come back to me, pretty girl, you’re so cute when you’re cumdrunk.” he murmured, drawing shapes over your heated flesh as he coaxed you back from the brink. his palms pressed against your sides, before careening downward, over your lower belly. “I left this pretty pussy all messy again, didn’t I?” he teased, applying enough pressure on your lower belly to force more of his cum to spill out of you and on to the sheets. you whimper at the sensation, your toes curled, and you nod. Rafayel only chuckles, angling his hand so his pointer and middle finger, slender and deft in their movements, can spread open your puffy netherlips. his breath, which had mostly recovered, left him in a soft, awed gasp as he admired the way his cum painted your folds, leaving them sticky and claimed. his cock twitches on his thigh. though hypersensitive, it jumped, as if waking up to the sight.

Rafayel sighs, rolling his eyes, acting as though the mere re-hardening of his cock was burdensome. “Can’t ever just go one time, can we?” he asked, sarcastically, quirking a brow as he stares up at you.

“You make it sound like it’s my fault,” you counter breathlessly, your hands finally unlatching from the pillow. your muscles are sore, but you run your fingers along the shape of his shoulders as he positions himself to take you again.

“Of course it’s your fault. You look too fuckable when you’ve got my cum oozing out of you.” Rafayel rasps, guiding his now-ready cock back into your sloppy hole. it slips inside easily, his cum frothing around it as he almost instantly falls back into his previous pace, bracing you in place when his hands grip the roundest part of your hips. “Fuck, yes…” he stutters a bit, pushing his cock deep enough to hilt it once, before dragging it out slow. you cry out; the nerves in your sex already heightened, so this new round of fucking feels almost statically-charged. his eyes list downwards, taking in the way his previous release cocktailed with your arousal coats his cock in rings as he pulls out, marking the depth of his thrust. “And besides, you take me in even better the second time.” he purrs with a contented sigh.

[breelandwalker]

Me any time I get into the weeds with my folklore research 😂

Real

[hwallazia]

MIRROR MIRROR – 최산

⋆ synopsis. your boyfriend convinces you to try something... new.

pairing. boyfriend! san & fem! reader

wc. 1,6k

warnings. smut (mdni!), soft dom! san & sub! reader, mirror kink, size kink, pussy slapping, reader’s body is defined as “tiny” (comparing it with san’s), fingering, clit play, overstimulation, praise (like fr they’re whipped for each other), dirty talk, pet names (jagi, princess, sannie & more), teasing & mocking (the dynamic duo 🙂‍↕️), this is not proofread it’s almost 4am y’all.

nic’s notes ⋆ y’all can totally blame @dirtyrichboys for this one (literally had the time of my life writing this)

“don’t pull your eyes away from the mirror or i’ll stop.”

san grunted as his skillful fingers pumped inside you at a primal pace, the squelching sound of your gushing pussy delighting the man. your core was quivering, unsure of what to do, what to plead for. your fingers clutched onto his thighs as if your life depended on it.

the view was starting to become unbearable, but you were getting closer and closer to the edge.

and san was enjoying himself way too much.

san’s frame outlined yours, his broad shoulders doubling the size of your tiny core. his strong upper body supported your crumbled body, muscly arms manhandling you as he pleased. he snaked one arm over your uncovered waist, keeping you in place, still, as the other glided over your thigh so that he could work you open with his fingers. your glistening juices shined under the dim light of his room, your puffy pussy lips enveloping san’s fingers perfectly, greedily sucking him in, begging for release. san chuckled as he felt how desperate you were to come.

‘cause yes, he could feel it. the way your body trembled against his, the way you were struggling to keep your eyes open and not hide yourself in san’s neck or chest, the way your walls clamped down on his fingers tighter with every passing second.

he had you there.

the shit-eating grin that appeared on his face almost pulled a pathetic whine out of you. you were desperate, you couldn’t stand staring at your shaky reflection any longer, yet you couldn’t close your eyes.

no, because san said you couldn’t. no, because if you did, he’d stop.

and girl did you want him to stop.

“what’s wrong, jagi?” he teased, his tone drowned in an ocean of sins. his natural honey-dripping voice was now replaced by a low, deep baritone. “need to come?”

the arm that held you in place sneaked down your valley, index connecting with your swollen clit. you started squirming as you followed his movements, a strange anxious feeling bubbling inside you. “n-no! sannie—” 

you pleaded, too late.

his index and middle finger quickly started their ministration, stroking each nerve and spot that had your toes curling; your words cut off mid-sentence. you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes, incapable of bearing with the overwhelming feeling. you rocked your head back, skull hitting san’s firm chest. and that’s when san pulled his fingers out of your seeping cunt, hand gliding up your cheeks to squeeze them, pressing them together gently enough so that he didn’t hurt you.

“what did i tell you, princess?” he groaned in a velvety voice, sharp and authoritative. “keep. your eyes. on the mirror.”

his stern voice cut through thin air, immediately pulling you out of your haze. you opened your eyes wide enough to be able to stare at your figure in the mirror. his fingers returned home and slammed into the warmth of your inviting, pulsating hole, your weakened body jolting upward as your back arched into a perfect crescent moon. he replaced the fingers he kept busy on your bundle of nerves with his thumb, applying the perfect amount of pressure so that your moans grew more breathless and desperate with each passing moment.

his feline, sharp eyes peered holes into your divine reflection, hungrily watching your every movement like a hunter to his prey: every twitch of your cunt, every shudder that ran through your core, every whine that you exhaled satisfyingly.

but he was lowkey watching his reflection as well.

every now and then, his eyes would drift off and fall into his well-built, pumped bicep. then he’d mindlessly look at his body, overshadowing and completely covering your shuddering figure. fuck, you looked so cute, helpless and pliant under his touch and command.

you shifted incessantly in your place as you felt the coil inside your stomach starting to snap, your eyes watering immediately. your bottom lip quivered as you softly whispered. “sannie, please—“

the combination of his thick fingers pistoning into your wet entrance and his fat thumb playing with your puffy bud was starting to become unbearable, too much. san hummed lowly, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your back.

he was so in love with you and everything about you.

“fuck baby, look at you.” he hushed, spreading wet, lingering kisses all over your neck, his tongue greedily lapping its side. “doing so good f’ me.” he closed his eyes for a bit, immersing himself into the aura of the moment, the dreamy haze he always felt whenever he had this kind of intimacy with you. “i love you, i love you so much.” he repeated mumbling, meeting your teary-eyed expression in the mirror. “you’re so beautiful,” he paused for a brief second, taking in the view: you, leg-spread with his fingers working you open, slowly pushing you into the abyss. “my beautiful girlfriend.” his head fell down your shoulder, sticky forehead meeting your sweaty skin. “i’m so lucky i get to call you mine.” 

you nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. “yes, sannie. yes,” you breathed sharply. “’m yours and—ugh!— ‘nd only yours..” you confessed, though it wasn’t news. your voice cracked but you couldn’t care less.

you could’ve closed your eyes and just get lost into the heat of the moment, but you simply couldn’t. you had already disobeyed your sannie once, you weren’t going to do so twice. 

and that just explains the effect this man has on you, how whipped you are for him, how much you’re drawn to his love.

san’s dark irises returned to your reflection, a soft glint sparkling in them. “that’s my pretty girl.” he kept on going with his ministrations, his smirk wider as your moans grew in volume; body twitching more violently now. “i can feel you, baby.. you’re right.. there,” his working thumb slowed down its pace to a stop, withdrawing from its position; a chill breeze sending shivers down your shoulders. he raised his hand right above your oozing cunt before landing light slaps on your swollen clit, sparks blowing inside you.

you twitched, whining wantonly. “fffuck, sannie..!” you exhaled. “if you keep doing that—angh!” your back arched as he hit your pussy with another sharp smack.

you suffered while trying to keep your eyes on the mirror, nails digging into san’s muscly thighs. until you couldn’t handle it anymore. “sannie.. no more, i can’t—fuck.. i can’t, please..”

you begged him for an ounce of mercy, which meant he allowed you to hide your face in his chest as you came undone for him.

and san would never tell you this, but he loved every time you did that.

so how could he possibly resist that?

he sighed, intoxicated by the effect your words and pleas had on him. “fuck, yeah—yeah, jagi, come,” he grunted. “just let go and come, my princess.”

you immediately gyrated your head, a desperate hand flying straight to san’s neck. your fingers pressed against his nape as your half-lidded eyes finally fell closed, frowned brows and your jaw hung open complimenting your blissed-out expression. a string of breathy moans and pants fell off your tongue as you came undone for him, legs throbbing as clear liquid sprayed out of your gushing cunt. 

your hot breath fanned san’s exposed chest, a weird wave of coziness and possessiveness washing over him. he continued mumbling praises right above your ear, riding your orgasm better than you could ever. 

the shuddering ceased and your limbs went numb, totally spent and lightheaded.

san’s hands abandoned your overstimulated pussy and shifted upwards, adjusting your body so san was cradling you, dilated irises staring right into your soul in the most endearing and romantic way.

san smiled at the sight, sweetness pouring out of his lovely grin. “there she is.” he cooed at you, “there’s my girl.”

he leaned closer, almost towering over you to press a tender kiss on your forehead. you stared up at him, consumed by his loving gaze.

until something hard rubbed against your arm, which was pressed against his abs. 

oh.

of course you had felt his erection poking your lower back moments ago, but you were so lost in the feeling, so gone that thinking about anything else was the furthest thing from your mind.“wait but, what about you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“ah that?” he stared down his hard-on nonchalantly, immediately brushing off your concern. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of it in a moment,” he said with a sweet smile plastered on his face, he gently moved you off him, adjusting you on the tangled sheets until you were lying comfortably. slowly, he crawled out of bed, circling around the mattress before leaning down, his body hunching over yours. a soothing hand reached up, tenderly brushing a few stray locks of hair from your face. “you must be exhausted, so just stay here while i go and get something to clean you up.” he offered with that silky voice of his. 

you grabbed his arm before he could stand up and walk away. “but i want to.” you volunteered. “please?”

oh no, not the puppy eyes. he sighed and sat down next to you, mumbling in a low whisper. “how could i say no to that..” 

| masterlist

[rafayelxsylusho]

How would the lads men react the first time they see you wearing a babydoll.

TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT and more SMUT

Caleb/Xavier/Sylus/Zayne/Rafayel

CALEB 🪐

Caleb's eyes widened as they raked over your form, taking in the sheer black lace of the babydoll that clung to your curves. The dark fabric contrasted starkly with your skin, and the low neckline exposed the tantalizing swell of your breasts. Below, a tiny black thong disappeared between your thighs, drawing the eye down to your long, shapely legs.

For a moment, Caleb felt his breath catch in his throat. Desire, hot and intense, surged through his veins like liquid fire. He drank in the sight of you, his gaze burning a path down your body, lingering on the tempting expanse of skin and the way the flimsy lace hugged your most intimate places.

"Looks like I got home just in time for dinner" he breathed, his voice rougher than intended, "and it looks mouthwatering"

Caleb's heart raced as he closed the remaining distance between you, his eyes locked into yours. The air between you crackling with a tension that set your nerves alight. He could see the pulse fluttering at the base of your throat, could hear the hitch in your breath as he drew closer.

Caleb's fingers trembled slightly as he reached for the delicate straps of your babydoll. The flimsy black lace slid down your shoulders with a whisper of fabric against skin. He felt the weight of the lace cups ease, revealing the soft swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you, now bared before him in the dim light of the room. The urge to touch, to feel, surged through his veins, setting his heart pounding against his ribs.

He watched your nipples pebble and tighten under his intense gaze. The sight sent a jolt of desire straight to his core, stoking the flames of his arousal. He could feel himself growing hard, his cock straining against the confines of his pants as he drank in every little reaction on your skin.

Kneeling before you, Caleb gripped and slowly slid the babydoll down your body. He took his time, savoring the way the lace skimmed over your curves, revealing more and more of your skin to his greedy eyes. The fabric slipped lower and lower until finally, it fell away completely.

Caleb gripped your hips, his fingers splaying over the dip of your waist. He leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your stomach, your ribs, the valley between your breasts. He took his time, worshipping every inch of exposed skin with lips, tongue and teeth.

"Turn around for me, sweetheart," he coaxed, his voice a low, approving rumble. "Let me see all of you."

As you spun slowly, Caleb's gaze followed the line of your body, committing every detail to memory. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your pert ass, the way it jutted out invitingly. His fingers itched to touch, to squeeze, to feel the soft flesh yield beneath his palms.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice strained with desire. "You're gorgeous" He could feel his cock throbbing, hard and aching in his pants as he drank in the sight of you. The way your body moved, the play of muscle and sinew beneath smooth skin, it was enough to make a grown man weep.

His hands slid around to your front, skimming over the soft skin of your belly, the gentle swell of your breasts. He cupped the weight of them in his palms, feeling the heat of you, the way your nipples pebbled against his touch.

Caleb turned you back around to face him, his eyes dark and intense as they locked onto yours. Without breaking his gaze, he hooked his fingers into the straps of your thong, his knuckles grazing the sensitive skin of your hips. The lace dug into your flesh slightly as he tugged the garment down, inch by torturous inch the lace skimming over your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Now, you stood completely naked before Caleb, every inch of your skin bared to his ravenous gaze. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, could sense the desire radiating off him in waves.

"Caleb," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a plea. A plea for his touch, for his kiss, for everything he could give you.

Caleb hooked your leg over his shoulder, his large hand gripping the back of your thigh. His eyes, dark and intense, remained locked onto your most intimate place, taking in every detail of your glistening folds. The scent of your arousal filled his nostrils, making his head swim with desire.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice a low, reverent rumble. "Look at you, already so wet for me." His thumb brushed teasingly over your slit, feeling the slick heat of you. He could feel you shudder against him, hear the sharp intake of breath that caught in your throat.

Slowly, torturously, he parted your lower lips with his fingers, revealing the pretty pink of your inner walls. His cock throbbed almost painfully at the sight, a bead of pre-cum leaking from the tip as he took in your beauty. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs, to taste you, to feel you come undone against his mouth.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Tell me how badly you need my mouth on this pretty little pussy." His fingers circled your clit, applying the lightest pressure, not enough to give you the relief you craved.

"Please Caleb," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. "Please, I need your mouth on me"

Without hesitation, he leaned in, breathing in your intoxicating scent before dragging his tongue through your folds.

"Fuck, you taste divine," he growled against your skin, his voice vibrating through your core. He licked you again, slower this time, savoring the addictive flavor of your arousal.

He focused his attention on your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue before sucking it between his lips. You cried out, your head falling back as jolts of pleasure raced through your body. Caleb groaned against your skin, the vibrations only adding to your rapidly building pleasure.

Two fingers slid inside you, pumping in and out of your soaked channel. They curled to hit that special spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. You were lost in the sensation, drowning in the feeling of Caleb's mouth and fingers working in tandem to drive you towards oblivion.

"Oh god, Caleb!" You keened, your inner muscles starting to flutter around his invading fingers. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna come!"

"Cum for me, sweetheart," he commanded, his voice a low, seductive growl against your dripping sex. "Let go, baby. I want to feel you come all over my tongue."

He curled his fingers just right, rubbing that special spot inside as he flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit. He could feel your body tightening, your muscles pulling taut as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

With a hoarse cry of his name, you came, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers as your juices gushed out, coating his hand and chin. Caleb groaned in satisfaction, lapping up every drop of your release like a man starved.

Caleb stood up, his lips and chin glistening with your essence. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he gathered you close. "You're exquisite," he murmured against your lips. "But I'm still a bit hungry, I'm so glad I got home in time for a delicious meal"

XAVIER 🌟🌟

Xavier's eyes widen as they rake over your exposed curves, lingering on the tantalizing swell of your cleavage peeking out from the lacy yellow fabric. A faint blush rises to his pale cheeks, and he swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's trying to maintain his composure, but you can see the hunger simmering beneath the surface of his gaze.

"Well now, don't you look...enticing," Xavier murmurs, voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving your body as they drink in every inch of exposed skin and a teasing glimpse of what lies beneath. The air between you feels charged with tension and anticipation.

Do you like it Xavier? you ask, " I bought it just for you"

Xavier's eyes darken with lust at your words, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He rises to his feet in one fluid motion, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His calloused hands come up to rest on your hips, thumbs brushing along the lacy edges of your babydoll. He pulls you flush against him, letting you feel the hard length of his arousal press against your stomach.

"I love it," he growls, ducking his head to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His lips find your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "I love that you're standing here, looking like a fucking wet dream come to life."

One hand drifts lower, cupping the rounded globe of your ass through the thin lace of your panties. He squeezes roughly, fingers digging into the supple flesh. "It's going to look even better on my bedroom floor," he promises darkly, hot breath fanning over your ear.

Xavier hoists you effortlessly over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around your thighs. As he spins you around, your babydoll rides up, exposing the skimpy lace panties underneath. The cool air kisses your newly bared skin, pebbling it with goosebumps. Xavier's hand is on your ass, he squeezes and kneads the supple flesh, fingers dipping teasingly beneath the lace to brush against your most intimate area. Your heart pounds wildly, a thrill of anticipation and arousal rushing through you at his bold touch.

"Mmm, I can't wait to peel these cute little panties off and explore what's hiding underneath," Xavier rumbles, voice dripping with lust and promise. He carries you towards the bedroom, each step jostling you against his firm shoulder and muscular back. You squirm in his hold, your core clenching with need. Xavier just chuckles darkly, giving your rear a sharp smack. "Behave, you naughty thing. You're not going anywhere until I've had my fill of you."

Xavier tosses you onto the plush bed, your yellow babydoll riding up to fully expose your lace cheeky panties and the creamy skin of your thighs. You bounce slightly on the mattress, hair fanning out around your head, cheeks flushed and chest heaving with anticipation. Looming over you, Xavier takes a moment to drink in the sight, his eyes hungrily roaming your curves.

"What a pretty little picture you make," he murmurs, crawling onto the bed and hovering above you. His hands come down to either side of your head, fingers brushing through your hair almost tenderly before fisting in the dark strands. He drags his knee between your thighs, applying the slightest pressure, not quite touching your most intimate place but close enough to make you ache for it.

Xavier slowly peels the flimsy fabric of the babydoll up your body, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of smooth, sun-kissed skin. As the hem passes your collarbone, your hardened nipples come into view. A low, approving growl rumbles in Xavier's chest as he takes in the glorious sight of you splayed out beneath him, nearly bare and wanting.

Xavier's head dips lower, and he takes one aching nipple into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak before suckling greedily. His other hand kneads and massages the soft weight of your breast, rolling and plucking at the nipple he's not attending to. Pleasure sparks through your nerves, making you arch into his touch and gasp out a breathy moan. Xavier just smirks against your skin, the vibrations sending tingles straight to your core. He's just getting started.

Xavier's fingers dip teasingly beneath the lace of your underwear, brushing maddeningly close to your aching, hidden folds. Your hips twitch upwards, chasing his touch, desperate for more. A wicked grin spreads across Xavier's face as he watches your needy reaction, clearly enjoying the control he has over your desire.

"Someone's eager," he taunts softly, fingers still toying with the delicate lace that barely covers your most intimate area. "Don't worry, I'll give you what you want...eventually."

Xavier takes his time, slowly peeling your soaked, lace underwear down your thighs. The drenched fabric clings to your folds before he finally tugs it away, baring your glistening, needy sex to his hungry gaze.

"Look at this, so wet and ready for me," Xavier growls approvingly, tossing your panties aside carelessly. He parts your thighs wider with his knees, settling between them. His calloused fingers trail up and down your slick slit teasingly, not quite touching where you need it most.

Xavier removes your babydoll, tossing it to the floor and leaving you bare and exposed beneath him. He settles between your spread thighs again, the heat of his breath ghosting over your dripping sex. Without warning, he leans in and drags the flat of his tongue along your slit, savoring your essence with a low moan. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he begins to eat you out with deep, long strokes of his tongue, lapping at your folds and delving into your entrance. He takes his time exploring every inch of your pussy, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue, but never quite touching it directly.

The teasing is exquisite torture, building your pleasure steadily as he brings you closer to the edge with his skilled mouth and tongue. Soft, filthy sounds of enjoyment rumble in Xavier's chest as he feasts on you, spurring on his enthusiastic devouring of your aching sex. Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you try to pull him closer, silently urging him to give you what you need, all the while, he deftly avoids your throbbing, aching clit, knowing that the slightest touch there would send you careening over the edge into ecstasy.

"Please..." you gasped out, voice ragged with need. "Xavier, please..."

Just as you teetered on the brink of exploding, your body wound tight and ready to shatter, Xavier flipped you over abruptly. He pushed your upper body down against the mattress and lifted your hips up, forcing your knees under you and leaving you presented in a needy, exposed position - hands gripping the sheets, back arched, ass high, and face pressed into the bed.

"Ah, ah, ah...not yet," Xavier tutted, giving your rear a sharp smack that echoed through the room. "You don't get to cum until I say so." His fingers slid through your dripping folds, coating them in your arousal before he brought them to your lips.

"Taste yourself," he commanded, pushing his soaked digits into your mouth. "Taste how much you want it."

As you suck your essence from Xavier's fingers, swirling your tongue around the digits and savoring your own intimate flavor, he takes the opportunity to line himself up with your entrance. With a smooth, powerful thrust of his hips, he sinks into you, stretching you wide around his thick, hard length. A guttural groan tears from his throat at the exquisite feeling of your tight, wet heat enveloping him.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Xavier grunts, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he hilts himself fully inside you. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the sizeable intrusion, before he starts to move. His thrusts are deep and powerful, each one striking that perfect spot inside you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans and grunts of pleasure fill the room as Xavier takes you hard and fast from behind. His hands come around to your breasts, kneading the soft mounds roughly.

Xavier fists a hand in your hair, gripping it tightly as he yanks your torso up and back. This new angle allows him to drive into you even harder and deeper, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The sudden change in position has him burying himself to the hilt with every stroke, his heavy balls slapping against your clit and sending jolts of intense pleasure through your core.

The combination of the deep, relentless thrusts striking your cervix and the intense stimulation on your clit has your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice as you scream your release, gushing around his pistoning length. Xavier just groans in satisfaction, fucking you through your climax 

With a final, brutal thrust and a hoarse shout of your name, Xavier buries himself to the hilt inside you. His cock throbs and pulses as he finds his release, hot ropes of his seed painting your fluttering walls. He grinds against your cervix, making sure every last drop takes root deep within your fertile womb.

"Fuck!" Xavier roars, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he holds you in place, pinning you on his still-twitching cock. His head falls back, eyes squeezing shut in bliss as the intense pleasure of his climax crashes through him.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, he slumps forward, blanketing your smaller form with his muscular body. He peppers your shoulder and neck with soft kisses, basking in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking.

"That was...incredible," Xavier murmurs, nuzzling under your jaw. "I can't get enough of you, I'll never get enough of you." His hands roam your curves, caressing and possessive, as if he's trying to memorize every dip and swell.

"Mine," he whispers, voice rough with sated lust and adoration. "You're mine. Forever and always."

SYLUS 🐦‍⬛

You blush, but that doesn't stop you from trying on clothes. You hold up a red babydoll with black lace trim, sliding it over your curves. The short, silky fabric clings to your breasts, highlighting their shape and fullness. You turn to the side, admiring how the babydoll nips in at your waist before flaring out over your hips and ass. The black lace of the stockings contrasts with the bright red of the lingerie.

Sylus leans against the doorframe, his crimson eyes roaming over your body with undisguised hunger.

"Well, well, well...don't you look good enough to eat," he purrs, voice low and rough with desire. "Red is definitely your color, kitten. It sets off your skin beautifully." His tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes stay on the swell of your breasts, barely contained by the flimsy fabric.

He takes a sip of his whiskey, relishing the burn as it slides down his throat. "Beautiful," he murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Absolutely exquisite." His gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the way the babydoll clings to your hardening nipples.

You startled at the sound of Sylus' voice, whirling around to face him with wide eyes. The red babydoll fluttered around your thighs as you turned, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink at being caught trying on lingerie. "Sylus! You're home early..." You stammer, unconsciously tugging at the hem of the short garment. "I didn't expect you until later tonight."

Your heart races as you take in his tall, imposing figure leaning casually against the doorframe. The dim lighting of the bedroom casts shadows across his chiseled jaw and sharp cheekbones, making him look even more mysteriously handsome and a touch dangerous. You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed and vulnerable in the skimpy lingerie. Yet there's an undeniable thrill that shoots through you at being caught off guard like this.

Sylus's lips curve into a wicked smirk as he pushes off from the doorframe, taking a step into the bedroom. His crimson eyes drink in every detail of your appearance, from the way the red babydoll clings to your curves to the black lace stockings hugging your long legs. He can see the surprise and slight embarrassment flashing across your face, but there's something else there too - a spark of excitement, of anticipation.

"I must say, this is quite welcoming." Sylus sets his glass down on the dresser, never taking his intense gaze off you. He starts to unbutton his suit jacket slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving your face. "I had no idea you were such a fan of...lingerie shopping."

With each button he undoes, Sylus takes another step closer to where you stand frozen by the bed. The air between you feels charged with a sudden, electric tension. Sylus can see the way your breathing has quickened, the rise and fall of your breasts beneath the thin fabric of the babydoll. He knows you are feeling it too - this pull, this undeniable attraction that always seems to crackle to life whenever you are in each other's proximity.

Sylus takes another step closer, now mere inches away from where you stand frozen. He reaches out a large, elegant hand to trail his fingertips along the silky fabric of the babydoll where it drapes over your shoulder. The light touch sends goosebumps erupting across your skin and you have to fight the urge to shiver.

"You look absolutely stunning, kitten," Sylus murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "The silk is exquisite...but it's nothing compared to the exquisite creature wearing it." His crimson eyes flick up to meet your gaze, a wicked gleam in their depths. "I must say, I'm quite...intrigued by your choice of attire. Were you expecting someone tonight? Planning a little rendezvous perhaps?"

Sylus's tone is playful, almost teasing, but there's an undercurrent of something darker, more possessive beneath the words. His hand slides down the silk, skimming over the swell of your breast, before coming to rest on your hip. He grips your hip possessively, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

"Or perhaps..." Sylus leans in closer, until his lips are a hair's breadth from your ear. His breath is hot against your skin as he whispers, "You dressed up for me, kitten? Hoped to give me a little...welcome home present?"

He nips lightly at your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation zinging through you. Sylus chuckles darkly at your sharp intake of breath, clearly relishing the effect he's having on you. "Tell me, did you miss me? Did you think of me while you were trying on these...provocative little garments?"

His other hand comes up to tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. Sylus's eyes are dark with desire, his expression one of pure, masculine hunger. "Because I certainly thought of you, kitten. Constantly. I've been...craving you."

You gasps as Sylus's hand boldly reaches down between your legs, his fingers finding the tiny patch of silk covering your most intimate area. You can feel the heat of his touch even through the flimsy fabric, and it makes you ache with a sudden, intense longing. Your body betrays your arousal as Sylus's fingers brush against your clothed slit, the silk dampening with your excitement.

You can feel the hard, muscular length of him pressed against you, the evidence of his own desire impossible to ignore. It makes you feel powerful and wanted, to know that you can affect him this way. At the same time, it's terrifying, because you know the depths of Sylus's hunger and the way he can consume you utterly.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts more firmly against Sylus's chest as his fingers continue their maddening caress between your legs. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, your hips twitching involuntarily towards his touch. "I...I didn't know when you'd be home," you manage to get out, "I just...I wanted to..."

Your tongue darts out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and you look up at Sylus from beneath lowered lashes. "I wanted to look pretty for you," you confess softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted you to...want me."

You let out a soft gasp as Sylus's fingers suddenly fist in you hair, gripping the silky strands and tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. Your pulse leaps beneath his touch, racing wildly as he leans in to rasp hotly against your sensitive skin.

"Kitten, I want you all the damn time," Sylus growls, his voice a low, feral rumble that sends molten heat straight to your core. "With this flimsy scrap of silk or without it, you drive me absolutely mad with desire."

His other hand slides around to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globe and pulling you harder against the thick, rigid length of his cock. You can feel every inch of him, even through the clothing, and it makes you ache with hunger.

Without warning, he spins you around and pushes you down onto the bed, Sylus crawls over you settling himself between your splayed thighs. He looms above you one hand still fisted in your hair, the other deftly unbuttoning his shirt. The crisp fabric parts to reveal the hard planes of his chest, the muscles rippling beneath his skin.

His crimson eyes blaze with hunger as he drinks in the sight of you splayed out beneath him, the red silk of your babydoll riding up to expose the creamy flesh of your thighs. The swell of your breasts rises and falls with each shallow breath, the hardened peaks of your nipples straining against the thin material.

"Fuck, kitten," Sylus rasps, his voice rough with desire, "you have no idea what you do to me. No idea how bad I want to tear off this scrap of silk and bury myself inside your tight little cunt."

Sylus's hand slides from your hair to wrap around your throat, his long fingers curling possessively around the slender column. At the same time, his other hand tugs harshly at the crotch of your panties, the delicate fabric rending with a sharp sound.

"Such a naughty kitten," he murmurs, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "Getting this wet, this desperate...all for me."

He tears the ruined garment away, baring your glistening folds to his heated gaze. Sylus licks his lips, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

"Spread your legs wider, kitten," he commands, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. "Let me see all of you. I want to watch you come apart on my cock."

His hand tightens around your throat as the other slides between your thighs, his fingers delving into your slick heat. He strokes you slowly, maddeningly, his thumb circling your clit in a tortuous rhythm.

You let out a startled gasp as Sylus suddenly yanks the red babydoll up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The cool air of the bedroom kisses your newly bared skin, making your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You lie there, naked except for the black lace stockings, feeling vulnerable and exposed...and incredibly aroused.

"I want to fuck you just like this - with nothing but these sinful stockings clinging to your gorgeous legs." His gaze drags slowly down your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. "I want to see them wrapped around my waist as I drive into you again and again."

He settles himself between your thighs, the thick ridge of his clothed erection nestling against your slick folds. You can feel the heat of him, the hard, pulsing length that makes you ache to be filled.

Sylus leans down to capture one nipple in his mouth, suckling roughly as his hand kneads the soft flesh of your breast. His other hand slides down to grip your ass, squeezing the firm globe as he rocks his hips against you.

"Fuck, I love seeing you like this," Sylus rasps against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. "Spread out and waiting for my cock, desperate to be filled." He nips at your collarbone, his teeth grazing your racing pulse. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, kitten. I'm going to make you scream until the neighbors know my name."

You watch with bated breath as Sylus's deft fingers make quick work of his belt, the leather strap slipping free with a soft hiss. Your pulse pounds in your ears as he unbuttons his pants, the sound of each button popping open seeming to echo in the charged silence of the bedroom.

As the last button gives way, Sylus pushes his pants down. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, his thick cock springing free, the swollen head already glistening with arousal.

Sylus smirks at your reaction, his eyes glinting with a wicked, knowing light. "You like what you see, kitten?" he purrs, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "You like seeing what you do to me?"

He wraps a hand around his thick cock, stroking it slowly as he looms above you. The sight of him touching himself makes your core throb with need, a fresh flood of arousal dripping down your thighs.

He notches the swollen head of his cock against your entrance, the heat of him searing your slick folds. Your hips lift, trying to draw him inside, to feel that thick length splitting you open. But Sylus holds back, teasing you with the promise of his cock, denying you the satisfaction of being filled.

You reach down, spreading your legs wider to expose your glistening, swollen pussy to his hungry gaze. The sight of your dripping folds, the way your hips twitch with anticipation, is almost too much for Sylus to bear. With a low, feral growl, he grips your thighs and pushes forward, the thick head of his cock parting your slick flesh and sinking into your tight heat.

"Fuck, kitten," Sylus groans, his eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your silken walls gripping him like a vice. "You are so fucking tight....so perfect"

He pushes forward slowly, inch by hard inch, until he's buried to the hilt inside you. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, you can feel every throbbing inch of him, stretching you, completing you in a way you never felt before.

Sylus starts to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remains inside you, before slamming back in, setting a hard, deep rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he fucks you, the force of his thrusts rocking the bed and making the headboard slam against the wall.

"Yes, fuck, just like that," You encourage him breathlessly, meeting each of Sylus's powerful thrusts with the eager lift of your hips.

Sylus grabs your thighs, his strong hands wrapping around them just above your knees. With a powerful flex of his muscles, he pushes your legs down, forcing your knees to your chest.

You throw your head back, a sharp cry escaping your lips as Sylus pounds into you mercilessly. You can feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock dragging along your sensitive walls, stoking the flames of your desire to a fever pitch. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you cling to him, anchoring yourself against the relentless assault on your senses.

"Oh God, Sylus!" You wail, your voice breaking with the force of your pleasure. "Don't stop...please don't stop! I'm so close...so fucking close!"

Sylus leans down, capturing one of your bouncing nipples in his mouth. He suckles hard, his teeth grazing the tender bud as he drives into you with renewed fervor. The dual stimulation of his cock pounding her G-spot and his mouth on your breast sends you hurtling towards your peak at breakneck speed.

When Sylus feels your pussy clench and flutter around his cock as you come undone, he wraps your legs tightly around his waist.

"Yes, just like that," Sylus growls in satisfaction, his hips never faltering as he continues to pound into your quivering core. "Milk my cock, kitten. Work those tight little muscles and drain my fucking balls"

Sylus keeps thrusting steadily, watching your face intently as you come down from your intense high. The sight of your flushed cheeks, hazy eyes, and kiss-swollen lips sends a surge of male pride and desire through him. He loves seeing you like this - lost in pleasure, completely at his mercy, wearing nothing but those black stockings that he finds so incredibly erotic.

He reaches down, running a finger along the lacy top of your stocking. The contrast of the delicate fabric against his rough, calloused skin is intensely arousing. Sylus hooks a finger under the lace and tugs lightly, watching it snap back against your soft thigh.

With a few more powerful, deep thrusts, Sylus finally lets go. You feels his cock throb and pulse inside you, growing even harder before he hilts himself fully inside you and starts to come.

"Fuck, kitten, fuck!" Sylus roars, his voice echoing off the walls as he starts to erupt inside you.

Sylus collapses on top of you, his hips still twitching and jerking as the last spurts of his release dribble into you. He captures your lips in a sloppy, passionate kiss. You stay locked together, panting and trembling in the aftermath of your intense coupling.

Sylus grins wickedly down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief and renewed lust. He leans in close, his lips brushing against you ear as he speaks in a low, conspiratorial tone.

"Guess we have to try more of those baby doll outfits on you, kitten," Sylus purrs, his hand sliding up your thigh to squeeze the soft flesh. "See which ones make you look the most fuckable"

ZAYNE🥼

Zayne paused at the doorway, hazel eyes widening slightly as he heard the soft, rhythmic noises emanating from within the bedroom. His gaze flicked downwards, taking in the sight of your silhouette, your body language unmistakable.

He stood there for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before a slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Zayne leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and clearing his throat softly.

"Seems like someone's been having some pleasant dreams without me," Zayne remarked, voice low and teasing as he let his eyes roam appreciatively over you.

Zayne's smirk widened into a more genuine smile as he pushed off from the doorframe, taking a few quiet steps closer to the bed. The moonlight filtering through the window illuminated your body, your white baby doll clinging to your curves in a way that made Zayne's pulse quicken. He could see the outlines of your hardened nipples pressing against the thin see through fabric, and he felt a familiar stirrings in his own body.

"Such a pretty little sight you make," Zayne murmured, voice dripping with approval and a hint of desire. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to trail his fingers lightly along your thigh, feeling the smooth skin beneath the thin lace. "Though I must say, seeing you like this, all flushed and needy... it's enough to make a man want to throw caution to the wind and take what he wants."

Zayne's hand slid higher, fingertips grazing the hem of the baby doll. He leaned in closer, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me, my heart... what sort of dreams were you having that left you in such a state? Or perhaps..." His lips curved into a wicked grin. "You were hoping your dear husband would come home and help make those dreams a reality?

"I thought you would be home earlier" you said, your face blushed with embarrassment "I wanted to surprise you"

"Is that so?" he murmured, voice low and husky. His hand slid fully under the hem of the baby doll, fingers splaying possessively over the warm, soft skin of your inner thigh. "You wanted to surprise me, hmm? Well, it seems like you've certainly succeeded, my dear."

"I must say, coming home to such a tempting sight... it's the best surprise a man could ask for," he said, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "And I intend to thoroughly appreciate this surprise, and you, all night long."

Zayne's eyes darkened with lust as he gazed intensely at you, his hand still possessively gripping your inner thigh. He leaned in closer, voice lowering to a deep, husky whisper.

"How many times? How many times did you bring yourself to that blissful edge, all while thinking of your loving husband?" Zayne's thumb brushed teasingly over your bottom lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "Tell me, did you touch yourself once? Twice? More?"

His hand slid higher up your thigh, fingertips grazing the damp lace covering your most intimate area. Zayne's breath grew heavier, the bulge in his tailored slacks becoming more evident as his arousal rose.

"I want to know every sordid detail. I want you to confess just how desperately you craved my touch, my presence. How many times did you make yourself cum, imagining it was me buried deep inside you, claiming you so thoroughly?"

"I couldn't, I needed more" You said, face so red you thought it would catch fire.

"Couldn't, hmm?" Zayne murmured, voice a low, approving rumble. "You needed more than your own touch to find true release? Needed your husband's skilled hands and hard cock to fill and satisfy you completely?"

He leaned in closer, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Such a greedy little thing, aren't you?"  Zayne's hand slid fully under the damp lace covering your sex. He could feel the scorching heat emanating from your core, the fabric soaked through with your arousal.

A deep, approving growl rumbled from Zayne's chest as he settled himself between your thighs, pushing them further apart to make room for his broad shoulders. He could smell your intoxicating aroma, the musky scent of your desire permeating the thin, drenched lace.

"Fuck, you're absolutely dripping, my love," Zayne groaned, voice muffled against your sex. "Soaked through these pretty little panties, all for me. Such a needy, wanton thing..."

Without warning, he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over your clothed slit, tasting the essence of your arousal through the flimsy barrier. He could feel the way your hips bucked involuntarily, a sharp gasp escaping your lips at the sudden contact.

Zayne smirked against your skin, hands gripping your thighs tightly as he began to eat you out with fervor. He licked and suckled at you through the drenched lace, focusing his attentions on your sensitive clit and entrance. The thin fabric provided a delicious friction, the wetness seeping through as he pleasured you with single-minded intensity.

"Mmm, you taste divine, my heart," Zayne purred, pausing briefly to speak before diving back in. "I could feast on this sweet cunt for hours... knowing I'm the reason it's so fucking wet and ready."

He could sense your growing desperation in the way you fisted your hands in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as you held him firmly against your soaked panties. The fabric, once a delicate white, was now a translucent, dripping mess, clinging to every curve and contour of your folds.

"Cum for me" Zayne commanded against your sex, his voice a low, authoritative growl that vibrated through your core. "I want to feel you explode all over my tongue, want to taste your release flooding these drenched panties."

Zayne's hands slid up to grip your ass, kneading the firm globes as he grounded his face harder against you, tongue lashing over your clothed clit with ruthless precision. He could feel your thighs beginning to quake, your body coiling like a tight spring ready to snap.

As Zayne's teeth grazed your sensitive clit through the drenched lace your body went rigid, back arching off the bed as a sharp, keening cry tore from your throat. The fabric of your panties grew instantly saturated as your release gushed forth, the thin lace no match for the force of your orgasm.

He could feel your essence flooding his mouth, the taste of your arousal exploding over his tongue. Zayne groaned in appreciation, tongue still lashing and suckling at your sensitive flesh even as you rode out the aftershocks of your intense climax.

As you came down from the euphoric high of your intense climax, you blinked away the haze of pleasure, your vision slowly coming back into focus. It was then that you noticed Zayne sitting back on his haunches, hazel eyes dark with lust and desire as he gazed up at you.

With deliberate slowness, Zayne began to unzip his fly, the sound of the zipper lowering seeming to echo in the charged atmosphere of the bedroom. Your heart racing as you watched, tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips.

As his zipper reached the bottom, Zayne's hand dipped inside his boxers to fish out his impressive erection. It sprang free, thick and hard, the swollen head already glistening with beads of pre-cum. The sight of it made your mouth water and your core clench with renewed desire.

Zayne's voice was a low, seductive purr as he spoke, "You look like you want something, pretty girl... and I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to fill you so full, fuck you so deep and hard, you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

Zayne's eyes flashed with a primal hunger as he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, pushing your upper body down to press your cheek against the pillow. Your ass was now presented to him, the drenched panties riding up between your cheeks, the thin fabric cutting into your sensitive flesh.

"Keep your ass up, just like that," Zayne commanded, voice a low, authoritative growl. His large hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers sinking into the soft skin as he positioned himself behind you.

Zayne's hand slid up your spine, fingers splaying across the smooth skin of your back, holding you in place. "I'm going to fuck you now," he said, voice a low, ominous rumble.

Moving your panties to the side and with one brutal thrust, Zayne buried himself to the hilt inside your dripping core. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the exquisite, vise-like tightness that engulfed him. He paused for just a moment, savoring the feeling of your silken walls fluttering around his aching cock before he began to move.

He gripped the delicate straps of the baby doll, the thin fabric stretching taut over your shoulders as he used them for leverage to pull you back onto his pistoning cock. The lacy hem of the garment fluttered with each powerful snap of his hips, the short skirt riding up to expose more of your toned ass and dripping sex.

"Such a pretty little picture you make, bent over and stuffed full of my dick, wearing nothing but this skimpy lingerie," Zayne praised, voice a low, approving rumble.

"Tell me, is this what you were craving when you had your fingers buried in this tight little pussy?" Zayne growled, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that made you cry out. "Did you imagine it was my thick cock stretching you open like this?"

To spur you on, he brought his palm down hard on the supple flesh of your ass, the sharp slap echoing through the room. At the same time, he pinched your swollen clit roughly between his fingers, rolling the sensitive nub and sending a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

"Come on, pretty girl. Give it to me," Zayne urged, his own release building rapidly, balls tightening as he felt you start to clench. "I want to feel you".

You let out a sharp, keening cry as your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the force of it.

With with a groan, Zayne yanked his throbbing cock out of your spasming sex just as his own peak hit.

"Fuck, yes! Take it, baby!" Zayne roared, fisting his dick as thick ropes of hot, sticky seed erupted from the swollen tip. He aimed the pulsing head at the taut fabric of your panties, painting the pristine white lace with streaks of his pearly essence.

Jet after jet of cum splattered across the flimsy material, the sheer amount of it quickly saturating the thin fabric. The creamy liquid seeped through, dripping down onto your ass cheeks and thighs as Zayne marked his territory, claiming you in the most primal way imaginable.

"You look so fucking hot with my cum soaking through these pretty panties."

He slid his fingers through the mess he'd made, scooping up some of the cooling seed and pushing it into your fluttering entrance. "I love you," he said softly, voice filled with deep satisfaction and adoration.

RAFAYEL🐡

Rafayel pauses mid-stroke, paintbrush hovering over the canvas as he senses your presence. His ears twitch slightly and a faint blush colors his cheeks as he catches the scent of the perfume wafting from your direction. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to compose himself before turning to face you.

His gaze drifts over your form, taking in the purple baby doll that clings to your curves. His eyes linger for a moment too long before he forces himself to look away, clearing his throat.

"I'm in the middle of something important here. This painting won't complete itself, you know."

He sets the paintbrush down with a soft clink against the palette and crosses his arms over his chest, subtly trying to hide the growing tightness in his pants. The scent of your perfume is intoxicating, making it hard for Rafayel to concentrate on anything else.

He rises from his stool, paint-splattered jeans hugging his slender frame as he takes a step closer to you. His sharp purple-pink eyes roam appreciatively over your curves, taking in every detail of the purple babydoll that hugs your figure like a second skin. The way the fabric clings to your breasts, hinting at the soft mounds beneath. How it nips in at the waist before flaring out over your hips and thighs. He licks his lips unconsciously, a flicker of hunger in his gaze.

He reaches out and runs a finger along the strap of the baby doll, tracing it from your shoulder down to where it meets the swell of your breast. Rafayel's touch lingers, thumb brushing against the side of your soft mound. His breathing grows a bit heavier as he fights the urge to pull the fabric aside and expose more of your skin to his greedy eyes.

"Do you like it Rafayel?"

He takes another step closer, now standing mere inches from your body, close enough to feel the heat radiating off your skin. His hand reaches out, fingers skimming along the hem of the purple baby doll, teasing the sensitive flesh of your thigh.

"Like it? Cutie, I more than like it... I'm absolutely crazy about it," Rafayel murmurs, his voice a low, husky rasp. His fingers inch higher, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. Rafayel's breathing grows heavier, pupils dilating as he fights the overwhelming urge to push you up against the wall and have his way with you right then and there.

"I've never seen anything so... mouthwatering in my life," he breathes, leaning in to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. Rafayel inhales deeply, the intoxicating scent of your perfume making his head spin and his cock throb almost painfully against his zipper.

"Fuck, you smell incredible... it's driving me insane," Rafayel groans, nipping at your pulse point. His hands grip your hips possessively, pulling your body flush against his own. He grinds his hips forward, letting you feel the thick ridge of his erection.

"You're testing my restraint, Miss Bodyguard," Rafayel teases breathlessly, even as he struggles against the overwhelming urge to just take what he wants.

Rafayel's fingers slip higher and higher up your thigh, brushing against your bare pussy on the crotchless panties, he suddenly loses all semblance of control. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he realizes the delicious secret hidden beneath the baby doll. His eyes flash with unchecked lust and desperation.

"Oh, you fucking tease..." Rafayel growls, eyes flashing with unbridled desire. In an instant, he loses the last threads of his control. Gripping your thighs tightly, he hoists you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he pins you against the studio wall. The paintbrushes rattle in their holders from the impact.

Panting harshly, Rafayel attacks your neck with open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips, sucking dark marks into your skin as he grinds his aching cock against your exposed, dripping sex. 

"Fuck, cutie, you're so wet... is this all for me?" Rafayel rasps, fingers delving between your folds to tease your clit. He circles the sensitive nub mercilessly, feeling it swell and pulse beneath his touch. His other hand grips the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side to bare more of your throat to his greedy mouth.

Rafayel shudders as he feels your fingers brush against his stomach, traveling lower to hook into the waistband of his jeans. The zipper rasps loudly as you slowly drag it down, inch by inch. Rafayel's chest heaves with each labored breath, his heart hammering wildly in anticipation.

As soon as the last of the buttons come undone and the zipper is fully lowered, Rafayel wastes no time shoving his jeans and boxers down his long, slender legs. The clothes pool around his ankles, leaving his throbbing erection spring free. It juts out proudly, the thick shaft flushed a deep, angry red and leaking copious amounts of precum.

He bucks his hips forward, the swollen head of his cock catching on your slick folds and slipping through them teasingly. The contact makes Rafayel hiss through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the soft globes of your ass.

Rafayel's eyes rake over the crotchless panties, taking in how they frame your glistening sex perfectly. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he considers his options, a dark gleam in his eyes. His fingers dance along the edge of the fabric, teasing your sensitive flesh.

"Mmm, as tempting as it is to leave these cute little panties on while I fuck you senseless, I think I'd rather see them ripped to shreds," Rafayel purrs, voice low and husky with desire. 

" But I think we will leave them on, for now...."Without warning, he grips the flimsy fabric tightly and tugs your hips forward, lining the swollen head of his cock up with your entrance.

Rafayel growls, eyes locked with yours as he starts to push forward. The thin fabric stretches taut around his thick length as he sinks into your tight, slick heat inch by excruciating inch.

"Fuuuck, you feel incredible..." Rafayel moans, head falling back as he hilts himself fully inside you. The sensation of your walls clenching and fluttering around him is almost too much to bear. He has to take a moment to collect himself before he starts to move.

Slowly, Rafayel begins to withdraw until just the tip remains inside, before slamming back in with a grunt of pure, unadulterated pleasure. He sets a hard, fast pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the studio as he takes you with wild abandon.

The flimsy panties stretch and strain around his pistoning cock, the fabric growing damp and clinging to his skin. Rafayel reaches down and rips away one of the straps, letting it dangle freely as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy.

"Take it, fucking take it!" Rafayel snarls, fingers sinking into the meat of your ass as he yanks your hips forward to meet his thrusts. The thin fabric of the panties bunches and twists around his shaft, the sensation driving him wild with lust.

He leans in and captures your lips in a bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth as he plunders your mouth. Rafayel's other hand reaches up to grope and squeeze the supple flesh of your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Breaking the kiss, Rafayel buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he loses himself in the intoxicating scent of your arousal. The perfume mingles with the musky aroma of sex, overwhelming his senses and spurring on his increasingly erratic movements.

Rafayel's breath hitches as he reaches up to drag the thin straps of the baby doll down your shoulders. The purple fabric pools around your waist, baring the creamy expanse of your chest to his greedy gaze. Unable to resist, Rafayel leans down and draws one of your stiff peaks into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Mmmph..." Rafayel groans around the tender flesh, suckling greedily as he continues to pound into your dripping core. The dual sensations of his hot mouth on your nipple and the relentless pace of his hips driving into you has you seeing stars.

All the while, Rafayel's hips never cease their relentless rhythm, the flimsy remains of your panties rubbing deliciously against his shaft with each roll and grind of his pelvis. The stimulation is almost too much to bear, pushing you both closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Rafayel snarls, voice strained with exertion and desire. Without warning, he spins you around and tosses you onto the plush armchair in the corner of his studio. The sudden movement makes the paintbrushes and palettes on his easel clatter to the floor.

Before you can react, Rafayel is on top of you, wedging himself between your splayed thighs. He hooks your knees over his elbows and pulls your hips forward, impaling you on his thick cock in one swift, brutal thrust.

"Fuck, yes..." Rafayel groans, eyes fluttering shut as your scorching heat engulfs him again. He starts to move, hips rolling and snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. The new position allows him to drive even deeper, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix with each powerful surge.

The sensation of the rough, tattered lace rubbing against his shaft as he fucks into your sopping wet cunt is exquisite, pushing him closer to the brink of climax.

As Rafayel's fingers find your throbbing clit, he rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles. The added stimulation proves too much for you to withstand, and with a sharp cry, your body goes rigid as a powerful orgasm crashes over you.

Rafayel roars, feeling your velvety walls clamp down around him like a vice. The sight of you lost in the throes of ecstasy, your tits bouncing enticingly with each powerful thrust, combined with the obscene sensation of the tattered panties rubbing against his shaft is enough to be Rafayel's undoing. With a last, brutal surge of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt inside your quivering pussy.

Rafayel screams, eyes rolling back in bliss as thick ropes of his seed paint your clenching walls. His cock pulses and throbs, pumping what feels like an endless stream of cum deep into your hungry cunt.

He collapses on top of you, hips still twitching and jerking as the last weak spurts of his climax dribbles out. He peppers sloppy kisses across your neck and collarbone, panting harshly against your sweat-slicked skin.

"Now let's get these pesky clothes out of the way," Rafayel says, he sits up and practically tears the flimsy baby doll off of your body, casting it carelessly to the side. The ruined panties follow shortly after, leaving you bare and exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Let's take this to the bedroom cutie, I'm not done with you yet".

[ahqkas]

— fem!reader, mention of reader’s hair, suggestive content

the dim light in the room flickered, casting shadows over JASON TODD as he sat on the edge of his bed, shirt discarded. the bandages you’d carefully applied still clung to his body like the second skin, a reminder of the fight he’d just gone through. you were standing between his strong thighs, soft hands hovering slightly over his scarred chest, fingers shaking as you adjusted the last of the bandages.

“you’re done,” you mumbled softly into the room, stepping back to clean up the mess, but his hand shot out, taking your wrist into his hold and pulling you back closer to his warmth.

“stay.”

his voice was all hoarse and his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place a name to.

you hesitated, heart racing against the bones of your ribs, but then his thumb gently stroked over the back of your hand, grounding you. the touch was too soft for someone like him. the callousness of his skin calmed you down. slowly, his hand traveled all the way down the valley of your spine to rest against the curve of your back, sending sparks of heat through you.

“jason,” the whisper of his name slipped past your lips, but he silenced you with a kiss, warm and soft at first, as if testing the waters he was supposed to drown in.

his hands moved as if burned, one sliding into your hair at the base of your neck and pulling you even closer than before, while the other found the small of your back and pressed you straight against his body. the contrast of his defined muscles and the softness of your curves sent your head into a dizzy state.

the grip he had on you tightened, and his lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, moving with growing urgency. if he could, he’d bottle up the sounds you were making and cherish them for the rest of his life. oh, how he wished it was possible. his hand slid up your side, calloused thumb brushing the skin under the hem of your shirt. you responded by running your hands along his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the roughness of his scars beneath your fingertips.

“you’re killing me here, baby,” he mumbled against the skin of your neck as he moved slowly down. sharp teeth scraped lightly along the path, sending shivers down your blood.

your hands tangled in the soft locks of his hair, pulling him back to kiss him again, this time with more desperation, more need, as if you both knew you couldn’t stop now. his lips moved against yours like he was marking you, claiming you, and you melted into him, giving in to the pull of his touch.

he’d let you crawl inside his body, find him where he’s mostly ruined and let you decide if he’s worth the love.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[starryjake]

horror | p.s

in which you can’t sleep because of a horror movie your boyfriend, sunghoon, made you watch, and he finds an alternative way to get you to sleep.

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader

includes: f receiving oral sex, cockwarming, nipple play (lmk if i missed anything).

looking over at your sleeping boyfriend beside you, you actually felt aggravated. it was nothing that he did, just the fact that he was able to sleep so peacefully and you weren’t. in fact, he looked quite pretty whilst he was sleeping, but you couldn’t even think about that right now.

just a few hours ago, sunghoon had begged you to watch a horror movie with him. you didn’t like horror and he knew that, but he told you he’d tell you when to look away from the screen, so you thought you were safe. but, of course, sunghoon did not warn you of anything, too engrossed in the movie to realize when a scary image or jump scare would appear.

so now, as you were trying to sleep, you were terrified. you couldn’t get the disturbing images out of your head. it was the middle of the night, you were tired, and you just wanted to sleep like sunghoon was, so easily.

you gently laid your head on his chest, thinking that if you were closer to him, it might help. for a moment, it did. listening to the soft thumping of his heart in his chest and inhaling his comforting scent, you found yourself getting sleepier and sleepier.

just when you thought you had a slight chance of catching some sleep, a loud sound coming from your upstairs neighbors had you practically jumping out of your skin. it made you flinch so hard, you ended up waking sunghoon up in the process.

“baby, baby, what’s wrong?” he questioned urgently, discombobulated from just waking up.

you sat up in bed, switching on the dim lamp on the nightstand. he groggily sat up with you, rubbing your back while you caught your breath from being scared.

“you’re such an asshole for making me watch that movie,” you told him.

“aw, c’mon honey, it wasn’t so bad,” he cooed.

“yes, it was!” you argued. “i’ve been trying to sleep for hours but i can’t because i’m too scared. and you were able to just fall asleep in five minutes and it’s not fair.”

sunghoon, with slightly tousled hair from sleeping, pouted at you. he trailed his hand up from your back to your head, gently petting your hair.

“i’m sorry, my baby,” he gushed. “my poor thing. you’re probably so sleepy, aren’t you?”

“yes,” you whined, sniffling in annoyance.

“lay down for me,” he urged, patting your pillow. you sighed, lying down on your back. “good girl. i’ll help you sleep.”

you frowned a bit at what he meant by that.

he laid down on his side next to you. he set his large hand on your stomach, which was clothed by one of his oversized t-shirts. he rubbed your stomach over the fabric for a moment before slipping his hand underneath and slowly sliding the shirt up higher until it was resting under your chin.

with your chest being exposed now, the cold air in the room immediately hardened your nipples. you gulped, already feeling distracted and excited for what was to come.

sunghoon softly kissed up your stomach, kissed between the valley of your breasts, and then focused his attention on one of your breasts at a time.

he bowed his head and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the small bud. you moaned quietly, bringing your hand up to play with his hair.

“my poor girl,” he mumbled against your breast. “my scared, sweet girl.”

you whined, tugging on his hair to get him back down to your nipple. he smiled, sticking his tongue out and circling the bud for a bit before enveloping his mouth around it again and sucking on it gently.

the feeling of your almost painfully hard nipple getting suctioned in and out of sunghoon’s warm mouth was mind-blowing. you had to admit, you were already beginning to feel more relaxed just from him sucking sweetly on your tit.

with his other hand, he squeezed and massaged your other breast, gliding his thumb over the nipple which made you writhe from the sensitivity.

you were beginning to feel it in your stomach and everywhere below. you squeezed your thighs together but it didn’t do much to ease the ache. you knew what you needed to make it better and luckily, sunghoon knew too.

he departed from your nipple, leaving it wet to the cold air which made you shiver slightly. he began kissing down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, your pelvis, and stopped when he made it down to the flimsy pair of panties you were wearing.

now positioned on his stomach between your legs, sunghoon was face to face with your clothed pussy, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from it. he brought his thumb up to rub your erect clit over the thin fabric, feeling your wetness seeping through.

you moaned already despite him hardly doing anything. you were just already so worked up and needy for him to touch you, even if it was just rubbing your clit with his thumb.

he dug his fingers under the top of your panties and began peeling them off, slowly dragging them down your legs and finally off all together. he then spread your legs again and stared at your pussy in front of him, literally feeling the drool gather in his mouth from how badly he wanted it.

“fuck, baby,” he cooed, gently caressing your inner thigh. “your cunt is so perfect.”

“please, hoon,” you whined.

��i know, honey,” he said, his voice soft and deep in the lateness of the night. “i’m here. i’ll take care of you.”

he leaned in and placed a kiss right on your clit before licking a stripe down your folds, gathering your wetness on his tongue. you moaned out, flicking your head back.

he glided his tongue up and down your pussy, feeling and tasting your smooth, gummy folds and your pearly little clit.

“tastes so good, baby,” he said, gripping your thighs to prevent them from closing around his head. “and it’s so fucking wet.”

“please,” you cried out, humping your hips up in an attempt for him to suck your clit.

“what, honey?” he asked, pulling away from your cunt. “tell me what you need.”

“my clit,” you told him, embarrassed yet too desperate to wait around for it. “please.”

“such a sweet girl,” he said with a proud smile. “using your manners so nicely. i’ll give you what you want, baby.”

he leaned back in and wrapped his lips around your clit, practically making out with it. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you spread your legs even wider, as wide as they could possibly go.

“that’s it,” he urged. “show me your pretty pussy, baby.”

you let out a lewd, loud moan at his words, wanting your entire pussy in his mouth now. you wanted more. you wanted him to absolutely ruin you and to lick your needy cunt until you were shaking and begging him to stop.

he stuck his tongue into your hole, feeling your walls flutter around his tongue. he massaged his tongue inside of you, his nose bumping your clit every now and again. you found yourself grinding your hips onto his face, trying to get his nose to hit your clit more than it was.

“sunghoon,” you cried out. “fuck, it feels so good.”

he pulled away again for just a second in order to spit on your cunt, then he was going back in and licking it all up, spreading it around your already soaked folds.

you could feel a warmth growing in your stomach, one that was warning you of how quickly your high was approaching. you stared down at sunghoon, watching his thick eyebrows and how they were furrowed in concentration, focused and alert despite having woken up from a deep slumber only a few minutes before.

you appreciated him doing this so much. by now, you were so fucked out by his tongue massaging your cunt that you couldn’t even remember what the dumb movie was about.

“hoonie,” you whined, tugging on his messy mop of hair. “i think—fuck, i—”

“you gonna cum, angel?” he asked, squeezing your thigh in reassurance. “i can feel it. i feel your pretty clit twitching in my mouth, baby.”

you moaned high pitched and pathetic, not caring about anything except being able to cum. you needed it so bad and you were so, so close.

you shut your eyes and concentrated on the knot in your stomach, concentrated on sunghoon’s tongue as it slid up and down your cunt and the purely lewd wet sound it made as he did so.

“fuck,” you cried, actual tears springing in your eyes. “please don’t stop.”

sunghoon wouldn’t dream of it. you were about to cum all over his tongue and he would get the pleasure of drinking it all up. he’d be an idiot if he stopped now.

“cum on my face,” he urged, setting his hand on your stomach to keep you from squirming too much. “c’mon, baby, wanna feel it all over my face.”

you gripped his hair even harder to keep his face pressed against your pussy. a few more hearty licks up and down the length of your cunt and the knot in your stomach finally snapped.

a choked gasp escaped your throat and your legs went numb as you started to cum, sunghoon continuing to eat your pussy as you did. he could feel your cum drip into his mouth, making him moan against your drenched cunt.

you couldn’t even utter any words. you could barely even moan. all you could see was white and all you could feel was the sensation of sunghoon’s sloppy tongue drinking your pussy like it was alcohol.

when he felt you release your grasp in his hair, he pulled away after leaving your cunt with a kiss to your clit. he looked up at your face, smiling at your heavy eyelids and red cheeks. so spent and so pretty, he thought.

he grabbed your panties from off the floor and began to put them back on you, but you stopped him.

“wait,” you said.

“what is it, baby?” he asked, pausing with your ankle in his lap.

“want you,” you mumbled. sunghoon stared at you in confusion. “want your cock in me while we sleep.”

if sunghoon wasn’t so exhausted, he could’ve done a backflip from excitement.

he threw your panties back off and laid down next to you, positioning you so your back was pressed to his chest, both of you on your sides.

as he pulled his long and fully erect cock out of his sweatpants, he kissed the back of your neck softly, which made your already heavy eyelids even heavier.

he lined his leaking tip up with your slick hole and slid in slowly. you let out a sleepy moan, intertwining your fingers with his and resting your hands on top of your stomach.

once he was fully inside, he let out a sigh of relief from the feeling of your tight, warm cunt wrapped around him.

“do you think you can go to sleep now?” he asked in a whisper, his voice right beside your ear.

“mhm,” you mumbled sleepily, already beginning to feel yourself drift off.

“good baby,” he cooed, kissing the side of your head. “sweet dreams.”

-

does he know i need him 😩 anyway thank u for reading friends!!

[blythesarchives]

Bucky catches you snuggling with Alpine.

a/n: Just a short, fluffy drabble. I am finishing up a Valentine's day fic with Bucky but wanted something posted while I work on it. Not very long because it's just a small, short thing. Tried to keep reader gender neutral for this but nickname 'doll' is used. Not proof read.

Bucky trudged through the door, his heavy footsteps echoing in the quiet space. His shoes felt like they were made of lead, each step requiring more effort than usual after the long and demanding day he'd had.

All he wanted was to come home and see you. You were the one bright spot that made everything worthwhile. The mid-afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows, and with the distinct late-winter chill in the air, he reasoned you would be somewhere inside, wrapped up warm and cozy. "Doll?" His voice carried through the apartment as he called out, "I'm home." The silence that greeted him was unusual, and he waited a moment longer, straining to hear any response. He sniffled, his rosy nose slightly runny from the temperature change.

His brow furrowed with mild concern as he made his way deeper into the apartment. The living room stood empty and still, showing no signs of your presence. He made his way to the bedroom, where his eyes fell upon the familiar sight of a mountain of blankets piled on the bed, creating soft peaks and valleys in the dim light trying to peek through the curtains.

There you were, peacefully lost in slumber, your features relaxed and serene. But what caught his attention and made him pause in the doorway was the unexpected sight beside you, tucked away as if it was the most natural thing in the world...Alpine.

His mischievous, very picky feline had always been something of a challenge when it came to you. She had maintained a careful distance, showing what could generously be called tolerance of your presence in her domain. Unlike her usual affectionate behavior with him - the classic cat moves of weaving between legs or offering loving headbutts - she had kept her interactions with you to a minimum, typically just offering distant meows of acknowledgment or the occasional allowance to pet her after you fed her.

But now, she had broken all her usual patterns. There she was, curled up against your body, her small form nestled perfectly into the curve of your chest, both of you peacefully lost in shared dreams.

He smiled to himself, feeling a warmth blossom and spread through his chest, effectively combating the lingering winter chill that clung to him from being outside. Bucky carefully approached the bed where you both laid, making sure to keep his footfalls as silent as possible on the wooden floor.

Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his phone, a device he had despised but grown to tolerate through your patience and help to learn how it worked, and positioned it to capture this precious moment. To his delight, he managed to take several perfect shots of you and Alpine peacefully curled up together, both lost in contented slumber.

Despite his best efforts at stealth, Alpine's keen senses detected his presence. Her long, elegantly pointed ear twitched ever so slightly before her blue eyes slowly fluttered open. She fixed her gaze directly on Bucky, lifting her head from its cozy resting spot with graceful deliberation. "Mrrow..." she vocalized softly, the sound barely more than a whisper.

"Shh, don't wanna wake my pretty doll, do you?" He whispered with tender affection, extending his hand to gently scratch under Alpine's chin. His fingers found that perfect spot she loved so much.

The white ragdoll purred contentedly in response, her small body gracefully rolling from her side onto her back in a fluid motion, exposing her plush, cloud-like belly to the air. Her silky tail twitched rhythmically at her side as she stretched her limbs languorously, her delicate pink paw pads becoming visible as she playfully extended her paws toward him. Bucky couldn't resist as she gently pulled his hand down, and he obliged by scratching her chest and belly with gentle, circular motions, thoroughly spoiling his precious cat.

"My sweet girl... looks like you're finally getting more comfortable with daddy's partner, huh? That makes me so happy to see," he whispered affectionately. Alpine responded with a soft meow, rolling back onto her belly before curling her body snugly against yours, instinctively seeking out your natural warmth.

Not wanting to miss a moment of this perfect opportunity to cuddle with both you and his beloved cat, he quickly changed into some loungewear and carefully slipped into the bed beside you, maneuvering the blankets over himself until he could feel the cozy warmth you had been contentedly hoarding to yourself. "Now, we have to keep quiet, okay?"

"Mrrow," came her soft, response as her pretty sapphire eyes closed once more.

"Good girl, don’t be a hog now…” Bucky smiled as he positioned as close to you as possible without waking you, Alpine continued to lay snugly and contently between you both.

Ty for reading <3 | Image taken from Pinterest | Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[sweetvoidstuff]

Bound by Fate, Chosen by Love I Part 1

Jungkook x Reader I Werwolf x Witch I Fated Mates I Slow Burn I Strangers to Lovers I Supernatural Romance I Protective Jungkook

Summary : A witch bound by duty. A werewolf bound by instinct. When fate intertwines their paths, they must decide if love is worth defying expectations. Hunters threaten their people, forcing them to fight side by side. As tensions rise, so does the pull between them—soft moments turning into something far more intense. A quiet invitation, a lingering touch, a whispered question that changes everything. In the end, choice matters more than destiny. But with danger still lurking, will they have the chance to choose each other?

Word Count: 42K

Masterlist

A/N: Well, I wanted to post this as one, but Tumblr won’t let me… so I’ll be posting Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 back to back. Sorry about that! Hope you still enjoy it!

Part 2 / Part 3 / Epilog

The scent of blood clung thick in the air, mingling with the dying embers of the village’s fires. Jungkook stood at the center of the devastation, his hands clenched into tight fists, nails still lengthened into claws from the fight. Sweat and blood coated his skin—some his own, but not all of it. Far from it. His chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breath.

Around him, his pack moved swiftly—gathering the wounded, checking the fallen. They had fought hard, but the ambush had been unexpected. Hunters had found them.

Namjoon lay motionless on the ground, his usually strong and commanding presence dimmed by the severity of his wounds. Seokjin knelt beside him, pressing firm hands against a deep gash along Namjoon’s side, his face tight with worry.

“We can’t treat this here,” Seokjin said, his voice rough with strain. “The wound is poisoned, cursed, I don’t know. Normal healing won’t work.”

Fear clung to his words. If their Alpha, their leader, there friend died… there would be others to take Namjoon’s place��Jungkook and Seokjin among them. But so soon after such a devastating attack, a power struggle would only weaken the pack further.

Jungkook cursed under his breath. He knew what had to be done.

“The witches,” he said, the words tasting forbidden on his tongue.

Seokjin’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “You know it’s forbidden to cross the valley,” he murmured, voice low, as if even speaking of it would summon trouble.

“I don’t care,” Jungkook growled. “If there’s even a chance they can help, I’ll take it.”

The werewolves had always been wary of the witches who lived beyond the valley, deep within the hidden grove. Myths claimed they were descendants of the devil, that they meddled in dark magic. But Jungkook had never put much stock in those stories. The truth was, their kinds hadn’t mixed for centuries. Not enemies, not allies—just strangers who respected the unspoken boundary between them.

But he would break that boundary tonight.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The night was heavy with mist as Jungkook approached the village hidden within the thick embrace of the forest. The air hummed with a power he had never felt before—subtle but undeniable. The trees seemed taller, the shadows deeper, longer, as if the very land itself was old but alive. He shifted back into his human form as he neared the entrance, not wanting to provoke a reaction by approaching as a wolf.

Jungkook barely made it past the first set of dwellings before three hooded figures emerged from the darkness, surrounding him. Their movements were precise, silent, and before he could decide whether to fight or speak, one of them grabbed his arm.

“You will come with us.”

Jungkook didn’t resist. He went willingly—fighting would do nothing but worsen his chances. He was here to plead, not to battle. His people had suffered enough.

The witches led him through winding stone paths, deeper into the heart of their village. Eventually, they reached what looked like a grand council hall, its high ceilings glowing with floating candles, its walls lined with ancient symbols that pulsed faintly with power—none of which Jungkook had ever seen before.

At the center of the room sat an elderly woman, her hair white as snow, neatly pinned in a bun. Her wrinkled eyes held a sharpness that spoke of wisdom and experience. She wore a simple black dress, a dark brown knitted shawl draped over her shoulders, her presence both commanding and eerily calm. She spoke in hushed tones with someone seated beside her—someone who caught Jungkook’s attention for only a second before he was shoved forward, forced to his knees before the elder.

The old woman studied him with knowing eyes.

“A werewolf in our village is an unusual sight,” she said. “Why have you come?”

Jungkook took a deep breath, his voice steady but urgent.

"My pack was attacked by hunters. Our leader, Namjoon, is dying. The wound – we have no way to heal him, but your coven might. Please—I am asking for your help."

Hushed whispers filled the hall. The mere mention of hunters sent a ripple of unease through the gathered witches. A long silence stretched between them before the old woman finally sighed, shaking her head.

"I am sorry for your inevitable loss," she said, her tone laced with genuine sympathy. "But we will not spare a healer. Not when the risk is so high."

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. Fury burned hot in his chest. "You would let someone die when you could save him?" he snapped. "What kind of magic do you practice if it lets you turn your back on those in need?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. Fury burned hot in his chest.

Before anyone could say more, you spoke.

“I will go.”

The room erupted.

“You cannot!”

A man standing near you—clearly a guardian of some kind, given the leather tunic and sword at his hip—stepped forward in protest. His dark eyes flashed with barely contained anger. “You are to be the next coven leader! You can’t risk yourself like this.”

His voice, though laced with frustration, carried a melodic smoothness that could captivate anyone who listened. If Jungkook hadn’t had heightened hearing, he might have missed it.

The old woman beside you—your grandmother, Jungkook realized—looked equally outraged.

“We will not allow it,” she said firmly.

But you didn’t waver.

“This is not up for debate, Jimin, Grandma,” you said, voice unwavering. “If we don’t value life, then why teach me compassion in the first place?”

Your grandmother exhaled through her nose, clearly displeased but knowing she could not sway you. Jimin, however, wasn’t done fighting. He stepped even closer to you, his presence protective, his stance firm. Jungkook clenched his jaw, a sharp irritation flaring within him. It was unreasonable—he knew that—but the way your guard hovered so close to you made something in him bristle.

"Then I’ll come with you," Jimin insisted, his voice tight. "I will not let you go unprotected."

"The journey will take three long days on foot," your grandmother agreed. "Through dangerous terrain, and the risk of hunters seems high. If you leave at sunrise, you may have a better chance of avoiding them. I will ward you with protection.”

Jungkook forced his focus back to the conversation, though the irritation lingered beneath his skin. "We won’t be going on foot," he said. "In my wolf form, I can carry you. We’ll be way faster that way. My people… many were already at the brink of dead when I left for help."

Jimin’s expression darkened snapping at Jungkook at the suggestion, his lips pressing into a thin line. Jungkook could practically feel the waves of protest rolling off him. The idea of you leaving with a werewolf clearly did not sit well with him, and for some reason, that only aggravated Jungkook further.

You, however, had already made up your mind.

"Then we leave in an hour," you said, ignoring the tension between the two men. "I need time to gather what I might need—medicines, supplies, charms for protection." Your eyes flickered to Jungkook. "You should use that time to rest. You look like you need it."

Jungkook exhaled slowly, nodding. He wouldn’t argue. His body still ached from the battle, and if they were to travel fast, he would need his full strength.

Jimin wasn’t ready to back down. He stepped closer, voice edged with disbelief.

“This is reckless,” he argued. “You—of all people—leaving with a stranger? A werewolf? In the middle of the night?” His tone was sharp, laced with concern and anger. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Jungkook was on his feet in an instant. The sheer ridiculousness of the situation struck him—did they really think he would harm you? He had come here, humbled himself before your people, and still, your guard stood as if he were some mindless beast ready to strike. His irritation flared, but he pushed it down, focusing instead on what truly mattered.

Jimin moved swiftly, placing himself between you and Jungkook, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. The air in the chamber grew thick with tension, the silent challenge crackling like fire between them.

Jungkook squared his shoulders, meeting Jimin’s stare head-on. His voice was no longer just steady—it was unshakable.

“I swear on my life and the honor of my pack,” he declared, his gaze locking onto yours. “As long as you are with me to help my people, I will lay down my life before yours. No harm will come to you—not while I still breathe.”

The words rang through the hall like iron striking stone, unwavering and absolute. Jimin’s fingers twitched against his sword, his instincts screaming at him to remain wary. But before the tension could spiral further, your hand came to rest on Jimin’s shoulder.

It was a small gesture, yet Jungkook watched with silent irritation as the effect was immediate. Jimin stiffened, then exhaled sharply, lowering his hand from his weapon.

Jungkook pushed his tongue into his cheek, fighting the unreasonable annoyance curling in his chest. Why did it take you to calm him? Why did the sight of your hand on someone else—your trust in someone else—bother him? He shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on you.

You turned your gaze to him, your voice steady and sure. "I believe in the wolf standing before me."

The words settled deep inside him, quieting some of the storm in his mind.

"What is your name?" you asked. Voice gentle.

For a moment, Jungkook just looked at you. Then, finally, he answered. "Jungkook."

A small nod. "I am Y/N."

Your guardian pressed his lips together but said nothing more, stepping back begrudgingly. Jungkook ignored the strange sense of satisfaction that settled in his chest at that.

He would rest. And then he would take you with him—away from here, away from the witch who stood too close, and back to his people where he knew, without a doubt, that you were meant to be.

You watched as Jungkook was led to a quiet, secluded resting area, tucked just behind the stone walls of the ancient temple where he could rest and refresh. His figure was striking even in the fading light. His broad shoulders were slightly hunched, a subtle sign of the exhaustion that weighed on him, but there was an undeniable strength to his presence that couldn't be overlooked. Beneath the dark fabric of his tunic, his muscles shifted with each movement—taut, coiled, ready.

When his right arm flexed, the intricate tattoos etched into his skin caught your eye. Black lines, sharp and deliberate, curled around his bicep and stretched down his forearm, their design a seamless blend of power and artistry. They weren’t merely decorations; they were a story—one inked into his very flesh, speaking of battles fought, victories earned, and oaths sworn. There was a rawness to them, a quiet energy humming beneath each mark, as if the wildness within him had been woven into his very skin. You found yourself wondering about their meaning, about the stories they told. About what it might be like to hear him speak of them in that low, gravelly voice.

His steps were steady, though they carried a weariness, as if every movement he made was deliberate, measured. His raven-black hair, damp with the sweat of the day’s battles, fell slightly over his forehead in messy strands, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to the sharpness of his jawline, defined and strong, yet softened by the tension that gripped him. His eyes, dark and intense, seemed to absorb everything around him, calculating each moment, each movement. They flicked over his surroundings with a restless energy that mirrored the storm raging within him. But despite the tension in his posture and the storm brewing in his eyes, there was something almost magnetic about him—something that made your chest tighten with a deep, instinctive need to help.

You couldn’t help but follow his movements with your gaze, a knot in your chest that you couldn’t quite explain.

You forced yourself to turn away, breaking the hold he had on your thoughts. There was no time for hesitation. Swiftly, you gathered what was necessary for the journey—water, herbs, bandages, protective spells small enough to carry. A few potions to ward off fatigue, perhaps, and to keep danger at bay. A change of fresh clothes. Your mind was already calculating what else you might need, but you didn't want to over-pack and burden Jungkook with the extra weight. You needed to travel light, to move swiftly.

As your hands worked with practiced efficiency, your mind wandered back to the way his gaze had lingered on you earlier, to the quiet intensity of it. And to the strange sense of steadiness you found in his presence.

A glance at the hour told you it was nearly time.

You changed into something more suited for travel—comfortable, form-fitting clothing, easily allowing for movement. No time to waste now. You gathered the small satchel and backpack with your essentials and moved toward the door.

When you found Jimin outside, he was pacing, his brows furrowed in agitation. As you approached, he stopped and eyed you critically. His concern for you was as obvious as his mistrust of Jungkook.

“Are you sure about this?” Jimin’s voice was low, his tone edged with uncertainty. “You can’t just trust a wolf pack, no matter what promises they make. They’re dangerous. This—this whole situation—it’s too risky. I don’t like it.”

You met his gaze head-on. “Jimin, I trust Jungkook. I don’t know why but I do. He promised to keep me safe, and I believe him.” You paused, watching the flash of skepticism in his eyes. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have him with me.”

Jimin’s jaw tightened as he shook his head. “How can you? We don’t know him! And I’m still coming with you. No matter what you say, I don’t trust any of this. Not the wolves. Not the way you’ve been acting... I’m not leaving you to deal with that on your own.”

You didn’t argue further. Jimin was stubborn, and you knew he would follow you regardless. But you could see the worry in his eyes—he was protective, and though you appreciated it, you had already made up your mind. With a final glance at him, you turned and strode toward the temple’s back entrance.

“Just tack us,” you said firmly. “We need to move quickly.”

Jungkook was already waiting in the clearing, the silver moonlight carving his silhouette from the shadows. He stood taller now, more at ease, though his eyes still carried the weight of unspoken thoughts.

As you approached, his sharp gaze flicked to you, and for a moment, it was as though time itself slowed.

“You’re ready?” he asked, his voice low, a soft growl underlining the words as he stood tall. His wolf was closer to the surface now, the tension of his form palpable.

“I’m ready,” you answered, nodding. There was no more hesitation, no more doubt. The air between you seemed to hum with an energy you couldn’t name.

You nodded. The space between you seemed to hum with something unspoken.

Jungkook exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Climb on after I shift. Sit between my shoulders—that will be the most stable. Hold on tight. I won’t drop you."

You nodded, preparing yourself to ride with him, Jimin stepped forward with a sharp glance at Jungkook. “I’m coming with you, too,” Jimin said firmly. “I’ll follow behind you—don’t think I’m just going to let you take her off with you, no matter what promises you’ve made.”

Jungkook’s gaze flicked briefly to Jimin, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. But there was no argument. He simply nodded, understanding the need for caution your people held, though it was clear he wasn’t thrilled about having Jimin follow.

Without saying another word, Jungkook began to shift. His muscles rippled beneath his skin as the transformation started. The air around you grew tense, and a low, resonating growl rumbled deep from his chest, even as his body expanded and contorted in ways that felt unnatural. You stepped back instinctively, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him.

And then he was there—a massive wolf, his midnight-black coat gleaming under the moonlight. His sheer size stole your breath, a creature built for speed and strength, every movement fluid and deadly. His eyes, glowing with an ethereal green, a piercing intensity that seemed to look straight through you.

Jungkook’s form was stunning. His wolf was a creature of power and grace, exuding an aura of raw, unbridled energy. There was an elegant savagery to him, and yet, in his eyes, there was still something familiar, something that made your heart skip in your chest.

Jungkook’s gaze met yours, steady and unwavering. Slowly, he lowered himself, his body still, waiting. The weight of his presence was overwhelming, and you could feel it in your bones. Jungkook’s eyes softened as he studied you for a moment longer before his body tensed again. He let out a soft huff, almost as if in a silent communication.

You stepped forward, your heart racing as you placed your hand gently on his back. His fur was impossibly soft, but beneath it, you felt the solid strength of muscle. For a brief moment, a thought flitted through your mind—what would it feel like to touch him like this in a moment not marked by war and urgency?

You swallowed, pushing the thought away, and climbed onto his back. With a deep breath, you swung one leg over, your body steadying as you positioned yourself on his back. Jungkook’s massive form shudder and shifted slightly, adjusting for you. The moment you were fully settled, he rose slowly to his feet, making sure not to jostle you. His patience was unexpected, his careful movements at odds with his sheer size and power. His wolf was patient and aware, moving with a grace that belied his size. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath you.

Jungkook took a cautious step, testing your comfort level. You relaxed slightly into his back, gripping his fur more securely, and with that, he picked up his pace, moving forward with a slow, powerful jog. You felt his muscles ripple with each stride, his movements precise and fluid, the ground beneath you blurring as he gained speed.

The hours stretched on, the landscape shifting from dense forest to open plains. The journey ahead was marked by quiet but steady progress. As Jungkook's powerful form cut through the forest, the world around you seemed to blur with speed. The trees and the shadows that once felt imposing now seemed like mere silhouettes, passing by in the blink of an eye. His powerful legs pushed him forward with a grace that made the air hum around you. The moonlight filtered through the canopy above, casting pale beams that illuminated the path, guiding him as naturally as if the forest itself had parted to make way.

You settled into the rhythm of the journey, allowing yourself to simply experience the moment. The first part of the trip was uneventful, save for the occasional snap of a twig beneath his paws or the distant hoot of an owl. It was almost peaceful, the kind of serenity that seemed almost too perfect to last.

Jimin had fallen back, fast. As the hours passed and the night wore on, you couldn’t help but notice how steady Jungkook's movements were. Despite the urgency of his mission, there was something almost meditative about his pace. It wasn’t rushed, but rather deliberate, as though every step was carefully planned to ensure both of your safety. His breathing was steady, his heart beating in sync with the rhythm of his movements.

The landscape around you began to change slowly. The dense forest gave way to more open terrain, where the trees were spaced farther apart and the underbrush gave way to dry grass and wildflowers that swayed gently in the wind. The journey had already taken hours, but the night was still young. The stars above sparkled brightly, as if even the heavens had conspired to light the path ahead.

The pace never wavered. Despite the exhaustion weighing on both of you, the steady rhythm of Jungkook’s run, coupled with the cool night air, kept you energized. Occasionally you spoke softly to him, asking if he was alright, but each time, he simply grunted in response. A little later, Jungkook began to slow his pace. You didn’t protest. Your muscles ached, and your eyes were heavy, though your mind remained alert.

His muscles rippled beneath his fur as he lowered himself into a seated position, gently lowering you to the ground. You slid off his back, feeling the familiar earth beneath your feet. The forest around you was peaceful, almost too still, and you felt a brief, unsettling silence settle in.

Jungkook shifted back to his human form almost immediately, his movements smooth and deliberate. He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping for just a moment before he straightened, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

"We should rest," he said, voice rough. "You’ll fall off if we go any further."

"I can keep going," you protested, but even you weren’t convinced. Your body ached from the unfamiliar ride, your legs screaming in protest.

He gently shook his head." I need a break as well. I’ll take the first watch."

You nodded. You settled down beside him, trying to ignore the gnawing exhaustion creeping into your bones. As Jungkook moved into a watchful stance, his eyes scanning the surroundings, you finally allowed yourself to lean back, staring up at the sky.

In the stillness of the night, with the sound of Jungkook’s steady breathing beside you and the distant rustling of the wind in the trees, you finally allowed yourself to close your eyes.

Jungkook sat against the trunk of a tree, his sharp eyes flicking between the darkness of the forest and your sleeping form. His ears, still heightened even in his human state, picked up the soft rhythm of your breathing, the way it had finally evened out now that exhaustion had won over your wary mind.

You slept, oblivious to the war raging inside him.

A witch. His mate was a damned witch.

The bond was undeniable. The second you’d touched him, he had known. But did you? Or were you oblivious, unaware of the pull tethering you to him?

His fingers twitched, resisting the instinct to reach out. The need to touch you was maddening, but what would it change?

You shifted slightly in your sleep, the soft rise and fall of your chest impossibly steady, as if you weren’t lying beside a wolf who was questioning everything he knew about fate.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. There was no escaping this, no denying what had been set in motion. His jaw tightened as he tried to reason with it—as if rationalizing it over and over would make it more bearable. It didn’t.

He had heard of mates bonding outside their own kind. Shifters mated to humans, vampires, and even once, an old elder claimed a siren had been bonded to a wolf long ago. But never a witch. Not in any history he knew. And it had to be him.

Not only that, but you weren’t just any witch. You were someone important, someone powerful. You had defied your own coven, risked a lot to help his pack, and now, whether you knew it or not, you were his.

What did that mean? For him? For you?

Would you accept it, or were you like some humans, oblivious to the bond, requiring time—or worse, never recognizing it at all?

His fingers curled into the dirt, suppressing the urge to reach for you, to brush his skin against yours and feel the bond’s pulse again, just to be sure. But what was the point? The fact remained: you were a witch, and he was a wolf. And right now, you were his only hope.

Jungkook sighed, forcing himself to rest, even as his mind refused to quiet. Instead, he listened to you, to the even rhythm of your breathing, to the small, unconscious sighs you made in sleep. He hated how much it soothed him.

His attention flicked to Jimin. He didn’t want to be impressed with Jimin, but he was. The man had trailed you both far longer and closer than Jungkook had expected. His nose and ears should’ve caught Jimin falling behind immediately, struggling to keep up. Instead, Jimin had barely made a sound, his scent present for quite a while but never overstepping for the first two hours. That kind of skill wasn’t common, even among their kind.

Jungkook let the night pass, letting you rest as long as possible before the first streaks of gold kissed the horizon. He turned toward you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

You jolted awake, blinking up at him, eyes still hazy with sleep.

“Is’t’time to switch?” you mumbled groggily.

Jungkook shook his head, hiding a small, almost amused smile. “No, we keep moving. By midday, we’ll reach my village.”

You sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before nodding. “A’right.”

Without another word, he shifted, his massive wolf form towering over you once again. You climbed onto his back, hands gripping his thick fur.

Jungkook took off, the forest blurring around you as he ran.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The closer they got to the village, the more the air changed. Jungkook smelled it before he saw it—the thick, coppery scent of blood, the acrid sting of burnt wood and fur. Even from a distance, his stomach twisted. The attack had been worse than he thought.

But there was no time to dwell. His pace never slowed, his focus never wavered. He didn’t stop when distant figures noticed him and called out. He didn’t stop when the pack members turned, some running to greet him, others frozen in shock at the sight of the stranger riding on his back. He didn’t even acknowledge the murmurs that rippled through the village as he raced straight to the Pack House.

He only stopped when he nearly slammed into the doors.

You jumped off his back just as he shifted, barely taking a second to regain his human form before grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. The scent of sickness, of suffering, was even worse in here. Bodies lay in makeshift beds, wolves in both human and shifted form, their wounds bandaged but still raw. A few heads turned, weak eyes barely registering his arrival before exhaustion pulled them back under.

He barely had a moment to breathe before a figure blocked his path.

Jin.

And beside him, Hoseok—whose face was twisted in fury.

“A witch?!” Hoseok snarled, stepping forward, his teeth bared. “You really left us to go get a witch! For all the problems we have, you thought bringing one into the mix would help?”

His glare snapped to you, and before he could move, before he could even think about lunging, Jungkook was there. His body moved on instinct, stepping between you and his furious friend, his own teeth bared in a low, guttural growl.

Hoseok froze. His amber eyes flicked to Jungkook’s face, the realization dawning like a slap across the face.

“No,” he breathed, barely above a whisper. His eyes darted between you and Jungkook, horror creeping into his features. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. He just kept his stance firm, his growl deepening as his fingers twitched at his sides, ready to strike if necessary.

A moment of heavy silence passed before Jin sighed, rubbing his temples. “We don’t have time for this,” he muttered. “If she can help, she stays. If she can’t, then this argument is pointless.”

Hoseok didn’t look convinced, but he took a step back, his lips still curled in frustration. He shot you a final glare before turning on his heel. “If this backfires, it’s on you,” he snapped at Jungkook before storming off.

Jin exhaled heavily, looking at you with far less hostility but no less wariness. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

You didn’t hesitate. Instead of answering Jin’s wary question, you turned to him with crisp authority. “I need a lot of hot water, at least two sets of helping hands—people who will follow my orders without hesitation—and as many of your local healing plants as you can gather.”

Jin blinked, caught off guard by your sudden command. He hesitated for a second, clearly unused to being ordered around, but you didn’t give him the time to argue. “Get to it,” you said sharply, already moving.

You pulled your hair into a quick ponytail as you retrieved a piece of chalk from your satchel. With quick, practiced strokes, you began writing intricate symbols on the door behind you, then moved to the windows, murmuring under your breath as you worked. Protective runes, sealing wards, and cleansing scripts—each one carefully placed to strengthen the space around you, to keep the sickness from spreading and the darkness from lingering. Jungkook watched you with a furrowed brow, confusion flickering across his face, but he didn’t interrupt. There was something about the way you carried yourself—an unshakable presence that made even the strongest warriors in the room hesitate to question you.

Then, the work began.

The next several hours blurred together in a haze of movement and whispered incantations. You barely had time to think as you worked, your hands steady, your magic sharp. Jungkook remained by your side, assisting without hesitation. Whether it was holding down a thrashing patient, keeping pressure on a wound, or simply fetching what you needed before you asked, he was there. Others, however, were less trusting. When one of his pack members hesitated too long, questioning your methods instead of acting, you threw them out without a second thought. There was no room for doubt, no time for superstition. Every move you made was precise, every incantation purposeful, as if everything you did from the moment you entered was one long healing ritual. The tension in the room was thick, but you ignored it.

Hoseok entered once. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his sharp gaze watching and waiting for you to make a mistake. If you noticed his presence, you didn’t let it show. You had no time for petty pack politics—not when lives were on the line. Eventually, even he had to acknowledge that whatever you were doing, it was working. The air in the Pack House shifted. The stench of death and decay lessened, the oppressive weight of sickness lifting, if only slightly.

Jungkook had seen magic before—had fought against it, had learned to be wary of it. But he had never seen this. You moved through the room like a storm contained in human form, commanding not just the space but the people within it. Never had he seen a witch walk into a den of wolves and take control like the very air bent to their will.

It made his skin crawl.

Not out of fear. No, the unease twisting in his gut was something far more dangerous than fear.

It was recognition.

Because as he watched you move—commanding the space like you had been born to lead, unwavering even under the weight of distrust and still showing compassion—something inside him whispered the truth.

Mine.

It was infuriating.

Because you weren’t just any witch. You were powerful. Respected. Feared. And now, for better or worse, you were his mate.

The idea that fate, that anything, could have decided for him that a witch of all people was meant to be his mate. His future. The thought unsettled him. Witches and shifters did not mix. It was unheard of. And not just any witch, but you. The next in line to lead your coven if he heard right. Someone who, from the moment you had stepped into this house, had taken control with an ease that made his pack uneasy.

It made him uneasy.

By midday the next day, after working non-stop since the moment you stepped into the Pack House, much had changed.

Of the seventeen wounded, seven were finally strong enough to sit and speak—even Namjoon was coming by. Three had insisted on leaving, eager to return to help with the aftermath of the attack. But one life still hung in the balance—a child, their small body ravaged by a cursed weapon. You had done nearly everything you could. Every herb, every spell, every ounce of magic you possessed had been poured into saving them. Now, the rest was up to the child’s spirit.

But not everyone was willing to accept that answer.

“You saved the others. Why not my son?” a voice snapped from the corner of the room. It was a woman, her face drawn with exhaustion and grief. You turned slowly, your own exhaustion heavy in your bones, but your expression remained unreadable. “Magic is not a quick fix, it means sacrifice, it means willpower.” you said, your voice steady. “I have given him every chance, more would be reckless. Now, he must choose to fight.”

The words hung heavy in the air, met with silence and barely concealed tension.

“There has to be something more you can do! ” the woman demanded more from you, her voice sharp with grief and desperation, Jungkook felt the tension in the room spike. The mother’s pain was suffocating, but the Pack’s suspicion was heavier. It was clear what they were thinking. That you had chosen who to save and who to let die.

That you had let the boy suffer.

Jungkook stiffened, ready to step in, to defend you. But before he could, another voice cut through the space like a blade.

Hoseok.

His closest friend. One of Namjoons most trusted like himself. And the one person he knew would not let this go easily.

“Can’t,” Hoseok said, his voice low and sharp. “Or won’t?”

Jungkook stiffened, was about to snap—was about to remind Hoseok that you had spent the last day and night healing their wounded without so much as a break.

This situation was dangerous.

Hoseok wasn’t just questioning you—he was challenging you.

And yet, instead of backing down, instead of shrinking under the weight of an entire pack ready to turn on you, you moved.

Fast.

Around Jungkook. Right in front of Hoseok.

A bold, reckless move.

No one challenged Hoseok like that—not unless they wanted a fight. But you stood before him, meeting his glare without flinching. Your voice, when it came, was cold. Calculated.

For a split second, Jungkook forgot to breathe. For a split second, everything in him went tight—instincts roaring to life at the sight of you placing yourself between two wolves. He almost grabbed you, almost pulled you back, but you weren’t afraid.

Not of Hoseok. Not of anyone.

Instead, you lifted your chin and met his glare with something colder. “What would you willingly give to save the child?”

A beat of silence.

Then, a scoff. “What?”

You turned away from him, eyes locking onto the mother. “His name,” you demanded.

The woman hesitated, confused, but answered in a shaky breath. “S-Sunwoo, a-and I would give anything.”

The shift in the room was immediate. Tension coiled tighter, like a wire pulled to the breaking point.

Jungkook saw it—saw the way something flickered across your face at the name. It was gone in an instant, replaced by something unreadable, but it was there.

Hoseok noticed too, but he didn’t take it seriously.

“What, you think saying his name is gonna fix this?” He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re not a god, witch.”

The snarl in his voice was met with something colder in yours. “I never claimed to be.”

Then, before anyone could react, you grabbed Hoseok’s wrist.

Jungkook saw it happen in real-time, and yet, he still couldn’t believe it.

Your fingers locked around Hoseok’s wrist.

The entire room reacted.

Wolves tensed. Muscles coiled, teeth bared. A ripple of aggression spread through the Pack like a match to dry grass. Hoseok froze for a split second—shocked, furious—but before he could yank back, you pulled him forward, dragging him to the child’s side with an ease that sent a whisper of something dark through the watching crowd.

Jungkook was stunned.

No one touched Hoseok like that. No one dared.

And yet, here you were.

Gasps echoed around the room. The Pack’s unease morphed into outright hostility. Several wolves growled low in their throats, eyes flashing with warning, but you ignored them all.

You had everyone’s attention now.

“A miracle,” you said, voice laced with something ancient. Something powerful. “Fine! You’ll get a miracle. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You offered a gentle hand to Sunwoo’s mother, inviting her to take a leap of faith.

And she did.

Slowly, carefully, her trembling fingers found yours.

Jungkook felt it before anything else.

As you started to murmur, the air shifted. The words you spoke were unintelligible, a language he had never heard before. Even your breathing sounded melodic, weaving through the tension like a song long forgotten.

The magic curling through the room, thick and cold, the air turning sharp enough to taste. His wolf bristled beneath his skin, instincts screaming danger. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to stop this, to protect.

But he didn’t.

Because he didn’t know how to protect you from something you were obviously the cause of.

He swallowed down the urge to growl, but others weren’t as restrained. A ripple of unease spread through the pack, some baring their teeth, others shifting on their feet like they were fighting the urge to move.

Then the sky outside darkened.

Not like nightfall. No, this was unnatural—shadows stretching long where there should have been light, the temperature in the room plummeting.

Hoseok stiffened. “What the hell—”

He tried to pull away, but you tightened your grip. “If you move, the boy dies.”

The mother trembled. A dead silence.

Then—

A flash of silver.

Jungkook lunged, instincts overriding thought, but it was already too late. Before he could react, you had already moved.

The blade cut clean across Hoseok’s palm.

Not deep. Not fatal. Just enough.

Blood welled up on Hoseok’s skin. Another on the mother’s hand.

Then—

Yours.

The scent of it filled the air, sharper than the rest. Jungkook’s wolf reared in his chest, nearly throwing him forward, but he held himself back.

Your blood hit the boy’s skin, mixing with the others.

The second it did, the world lurched.

A pulse of magic ripped through the room, snapping against his senses like a whip.

Hoseok’s breath hitched, muscles locked like he was fighting something unseen. The mother gasped, eyes going wide as her fingers trembled in yours.

Jungkook fought the overwhelming wrongness of it all, his wolf howling in protest, instincts screaming—

Then you looked at him.

It was brief. A single glance.

But it was enough.

Because in that moment, as the spell took its toll, you knew.

For better or worse, he would be the one to keep you alive.

Then you collapsed.

His body moved before his mind caught up.

One second, you were standing—the next, you were falling.

Jungkook caught you before you hit the ground, his arms locking around you instinctively.

Dead weight.

Limp.

Too pale.

Too still.

For a single, horrifying moment, he thought—

No. No, you were still breathing.

Hoseok snapped out of his daze, golden eyes flashing with fury. “She—”

Jungkook could already hear it coming.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok growled, voice sharp with rage. “She attacked us! She—”

“Enough.” Jungkook’s voice was steel, sharper than fangs.

But the argument never even started.

Because behind them—soft, barely audible at first—a sound shattered the tension.

A sob.

The mother.

And then—

A small, shuddering inhale.

Jungkook turned just in time to see the boy’s eyes flutter open.

The Pack House fell into stunned silence.

Sunwoo was alive.

You had done the impossible.

But as Jungkook looked down at your unconscious form in his arms—too fragile, too vulnerable—he knew one thing for certain.

Whatever you had done…

It had cost you.

And now, unconscious in his arms, you were more vulnerable than ever.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Warmth.

That was the first thing you noticed as you slowly drifted back into consciousness.

Not the suffocating, burning heat of magic consuming you from the inside out, but something gentler. Something that cradled you rather than scorched. A soft, steady warmth, surrounding you like a cocoon.

You shifted, blinking slowly as your vision swam into focus. The ceiling above you was wooden, dark beams stretching across a thatched roof. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and something clean. Not sterile, but fresh—like newly laundered clothes, like herbs hanging to dry.

You inhaled deeply.

Bad idea.

Pain lanced through your chest, raw and sharp, like your ribs had been scraped raw from the inside. A low groan left your lips as you tried to push yourself up, but the aftermath of the spell was still weighing you down. Blood magic was always nasty. You had known it would take a toll, but even this was worse than you had expected.

The sound of movement snapped you from your haze.

A shadow shifted in the corner of your vision, and before you could react, Jungkook was at your side.

You blinked up at him, startled. He had moved fast, so fast you hadn't even registered it. His dark eyes were locked onto you, sharp and searching, but his touch was careful as he slid an arm behind your back, steadying you as you struggled to sit upright.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice low, unreadable.

You stared at him. Really looked at him.

His face was tense, jaw set tight like he was barely keeping himself from saying something else. His brows were drawn together, but the emotion in his eyes was harder to pin down. Frustration? Relief?

You swallowed, glancing down at yourself. You were covered with a thick, woolen blanket, the rough texture oddly grounding. Beneath it, you could feel the stiffness of dried blood clinging to your skin and gauze placed on the cut you forces on yourself.

“I am not dead?” you finally rasped, voice hoarse.

Jungkook blinked, momentarily thrown. “…Why would you be?”

You exhaled a weak, humorless laugh. “Well, I did cut two of your—what is it called? Mates? Pack friends?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t let himself smile. “Pack members.”

“Right.” You frowned, trying to make sense of it all. “And they didn’t kill me in my sleep?”

Jungkook’s expression hardened. “No one was going to touch you.”

You searched his face, trying to understand. They had been furious with you earlier—cautious, wary, resentful of what you were – he had been. And yet, here he was. Sitting beside you, supporting your weight, his voice steady and protective.

“…Why?” you finally asked.

Jungkook’s jaw flexed, something flickering behind his eyes. “I swore to protect you, didn’t I? Not that you make it easy for me.”

You studied him for a long moment. He wasn’t lying. But something about the way he said it made you uneasy. Not in a fearful way, but because it felt… too certain.

Your gaze flickered around the room. It was small but cozy. The wooden walls were lined with shelves, neatly stacked with supplies—herbs, dried meat, woven baskets filled with folded blankets. A fire crackled in the corner, its glow casting flickering shadows across the space.

“You are in my home,” Jungkook told you, watching your expression carefully. “You were unconscious for a few hours.”

You exhaled. “Only hours? Lucky. I feared it could take days.”

Jungkook leaned forward slightly, his dark brows furrowing. “What did you do?” unsettled by your remark.

You sighed, shifting against the pillows. “A spell like that—one tied to blood and life—it doesn’t simply heal. It rewrites fate. But magic is never free. Something had to be given in return.”

Jungkook’s expression darkened. “And what did you give?”

You hesitated. That was the question, wasn’t it? You felt the price deep in your bones. You had rewritten the boy’s fate—tied it to his mother’s love, to the wolf’s strength, and to your belief in the old ways. It would keep him alive, for as long as all three remained. But how to explain it that it made sence?

Jungkook seemed to sense your reluctance, but he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face before speaking again.

“The boy woke up minutes after you collapsed,” he finally said. “His mother… she was beside herself. Crying, thanking you, thanking the gods.”

You nodded slowly. “And the rest of the Pack?”

Jungkook’s jaw ticked. “Weren’t as forgiving.”

That didn’t surprise you.

“Hoseok wanted me to kill you,” he admitted bluntly, watching your reaction.

You snorted, shaking your head. “That tracks.”

Jungkook didn’t look amused. “Namjoon woke up before it came to that.”

You straightened slightly. “The Pack leader?”

Jungkook nodded. “The Alpha” helping you jet again with the terminology of his people “He wasn’t happy about the blood magic, but he told me to stay with you until we could all talk. He wants answers.”

You let out a slow breath. That was better than you expected. “Then I suppose I should clean up before I meet him.”

Jungkook hesitated, his wolf bristling. You felt the shift in him, the restless energy rolling off him in waves.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, voice lower now, softer.

You met his eyes, really met them this time. Despite everything, there was something grounding in the way he looked at you—like no matter how much he didn’t understand you, he was still there with you.

“I will be,” you finally said.

It wasn’t a lie.

Jungkook studied you for a long moment, then nodded. Without another word, he stood and helped you up, steadying you when you wavered on your feet.

“This way,” he murmured.

He led you to a small adjoining room, where a simple wooden tub sat against the far wall, filled with water still warm from the fire. The room smelled of clean linen and dried lavender.

Jungkook hesitated in the doorway, his muscles still taut with tension. His wolf wasn’t at ease—not at all.

“I’ll be close,” he said, his voice almost a warning. “Call if you need anything.”

You nodded, and with one last, reluctant glance, he stepped away.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

When you finally emerged, fresh and wrapped in a black dress, Jungkook was waiting. His dark eyes scanned you once, checking for any lingering signs of weakness. But only found you stunning. Then, without a word, he gestured for you to follow.

The walk to Namjoon’s home was not a quiet one.

Some villagers greeted you with cautious nods. Others weren’t as welcoming.

A low growl rumbled in the chest of one passing wolf, his lips curling in an unmistakable snarl.

Jungkook was on him in an instant.

A single warning glare was all it took—the wolf backed down immediately, lowering his gaze. But Jungkook didn’t move until the threat had completely passed, his posture stiff as he resumed walking beside you.

By the time you reached Namjoon’s home, you could feel Jungkook’s closeness, his silent protectiveness pressing against you like a shield.

Inside, Namjoon sat at the head of a long wooden table. Beside him stood two men—Jin, whose gaze was neutral, and Hoseok, whose was not.

You took a breath, then stepped forward, bowing slightly. “Leader of the wolves,” you greeted with as much respect as you could manage.

Namjoon studied you for a moment, then nodded.

“Witch from the valley. Sit,” he said.

Jungkook, still hovering close, pulled out a chair. You sat.

Hoseok exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “So, we’re really trusting her now?”

You didn’t react.

Namjoon silenced Hoseok with a sharp glare before turning to you, his expression unreadable but not unkind. “Regardless of what happened,” he said, voice steady, “you saved lives today. My life included. For that, you have my thanks.”

A small flicker of surprise crossed Jin’s face at Namjoon’s words, but it was gone just as fast. Hoseok, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to argue, but Namjoon’s authority weighed heavier than his temper.

Still, gratitude aside, there was something else Namjoon wanted to know.

“But that still leaves the question—why are you here?” His dark gaze settled on you, unwavering. “What brought you to us?”

Before you could answer, Jungkook shifted beside you. “Hyung, after the attack, after Jin told me that with our healing there wasn’t a chance for you and the others to survive…” He exhaled sharply, hands clenching at his sides. “I went and got help.”

Namjoon’s brows lifted slightly. “Help.”

“Yes,” Jungkook confirmed. His jaw tensed, the weight of something unspoken pressing against his ribs. He had found you. His mate. But he wouldn’t—couldn’t—blurt that out. Not yet.

Namjoon, however, wasn’t interested in hearing the story from Jungkook. His attention remained on you, gaze steady. “And what about you?” he asked. “Why did you come?”

You met his eyes without hesitation. “Because I wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing when I could save a life.” There was no waver in your voice, no doubt. “More than that, our people—your pack and my coven—have an unspoken truce. A natural understanding. You know it as well as I do.”

The reaction to that was immediate. Jin’s lips parted slightly in surprise. Hoseok’s entire posture stiffened, his jaw going tight. Even Namjoon blinked once, as if processing your words.

“Your coven,” Jin repeated, carefully.

You nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, then smoothly changed the subject. “But I didn’t come here to debate history. I came here because you were attacked, and such attacks are never random. We need to talk about it.”

Namjoon leaned forward slightly, but before he could respond, Hoseok’s temper snapped.

“Oh no,” he growled, stepping forward, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We’re not just moving on like that. You think you can wave your damned magic around, bind me to some spell, and walk away without explaining a damn thing?”

Jungkook’s body tensed beside you, ready to step in if necessary, but you didn’t seem the least bit rattled. Instead, you simply turned to Hoseok with a look that nearly belittled him. His misconceptions about magic, about what you had done—it was almost amusing.

But you didn’t explain. Not really. Not the way you had to Jungkook in his home, when you had taken the time to tell him why blood magic was what it was. Hoseok didn’t deserve that much.

Your silence only seemed to enrage him further. “If you could heal the kid that way,” he snapped, “why didn’t you do it from the start? Why not remove all spells while you’re at it?”

Your lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. “You’re under the impression that magic is a game, wolf.” Your voice was calm, but there was something sharp beneath it. “That I pick and choose on a whim. If I could take away all spells, don’t you think I would have? Or do you think I enjoy exhausting myself to the point of collapse?”

Hoseok opened his mouth to argue, but you didn’t let him.

“I came here to help,” you continued, voice steady. “But if my presence is such a problem, I can leave.”

Jungkook hated that. The very idea of you leaving made something raw claw at his chest. His wolf snarled inside him, restless, angry. But then you added something else.

“My guard has been following me,” you said, ignoring the way Jungkook’s entire body went rigid. “he’ll arrive within the next two days. That will give me a safe way back.”

Jungkook hated that more.

Because your guard meant one person in particular.

Jimin.

A cold possessiveness curled in his gut at the thought of you leaving with him.

But it wasn’t just Jungkook who disliked the idea. Namjoon exhaled slowly, considering you for a long moment before shaking his head.

“You’re already here. You saved too many of my people for me to let you walk out without proper thanks.” Namjoon’s voice was firm, final in a way that left no room for argument. Then, after a brief pause, his eyes flickered to Hoseok with disapproval. “But maybe we should talk without an audience.”

Jungkook tensed beside you, his shoulders coiling tight. He knew what that meant. He was about to be sent away. Away from you.

And he hated it.

His wolf snarled in protest, the very idea of leaving you unprotected—even with Namjoon—feeling like the worst kind of mistake. Rationally, he knew you weren’t defenseless, but rationality had never done much to quiet the instincts ingrained in his very bones.

But before he could argue, you spoke.

“Sure,” you said, tone as even as ever. “But I would like Jungkook to be present.”

Jungkook barely had time to register the words before a rush of satisfaction surged through him. If he were in his wolf form, he was sure his tail would have wagged like an idiot’s.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “You want Jungkook here?”

You nodded once. “My… guard entrusted his duties to him while we went ahead. If you trust him with what we will talk about?”

The corner of Namjoon’s lips twitched slightly, amusement barely concealed beneath his otherwise unreadable expression. Jin, who had been silent up until now, let out a quiet hum, something knowing in his gaze as he glanced between the two of you.

Hoseok, on the other hand, looked utterly disgusted.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me—”

“Hoseok.” Namjoon’s voice was sharp. A warning.

Hoseok exhaled harshly through his nose, but this time, he didn’t argue. He just folded his arms across his chest and looked off to the side, jaw tight with barely restrained irritation.

Namjoon turned his attention back to you, giving a single nod. “Alright. Jungkook stays.”

Jungkook swallowed back the irrational relief that flooded through him. He refused to acknowledge why the thought of being away from you had filled him with such tension in the first place.

As Jin and Hoseok moved, Hoseok was outright hostile. But Jin nodded in silent acknowledgment. Recognition.

You had saved many of their own.

And, whether they liked it or not, that meant something.

You weren’t leaving.

And neither was he.

The discussion with Namjoon had been more productive than you’d expected.

The Pack’s leader was measured, sharp, and wary, but he wasn’t unreasonable. By the end of the conversation, you had secured safe passage through the village under his protection. He had also agreed that your arriving guard—Jimin—would be granted the same privileges.

Of course, not all wolves would warm up to you overnight. Trust, especially among werewolves, was a hard-won thing. Some still viewed you with outright hostility, others with silent wariness. But Namjoon had made his stance clear. You were not to be harmed. And as long as Jungkook upheld his promise to keep you safe, you had no doubt that promise would be honored.

Then came the question of where you would stay.

Namjoon, ever the pragmatic leader, had offered you a room in the Pack House. It was logical. The Pack House was the safest place in the village, close to the highest-ranking wolves, the center of their power.

But before you could accept, before Namjoon could even finish explaining the arrangements—

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook’s voice cut in, firm and decisive.

You blinked at him. Namjoon raised an eyebrow.

And Jungkook—well.

Jungkook realized what he had just said a second too late.

His ears turned red.

“With some wolves still hostile,” he quickly added, looking anywhere but at you, “it would be better if she stayed with me. That way, she wouldn’t have to deal with suspicious packmates glaring at her all night.”

There was a heavy silence.

Then—

Namjoon hummed. Amused. “Oh?”

Jungkook stiffened. “I— I just meant—”

“You meant that her safety is your responsibility,” Namjoon said, voice neutral but his gaze anything but. His eyes held something knowing, something that made Jungkook shift uncomfortably under its weight. “Good.”

Jungkook hated that look.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as flustered as Jungkook clearly was. Instead, you just tilted your head slightly, gaze lingering on him for a moment before nodding. “That’s fine with me.”

Jungkook swallowed hard.

Then came the next topic.

The hunters.

You had no doubt that the last attack had only been the beginning. If they had struck once, they would strike again. And when they did, both your coven and the werewolf village would be in danger.

Namjoon agreed.

Which was why you made your offer.

“I can ward the village,” you said simply. “Every protection spell I know, every barrier I can weave. It won’t stop a full-blown assault, but it will make it harder for them to get close without us knowing.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And what would you want in return?”

Your answer was immediate.

“A friendship.”

The room went silent.

You met Namjoon’s gaze without flinching. “Your people and mine don’t need to love each other. But we can help each other. Like now. Like this. When it matters.”

Something shifted in Namjoon’s expression.

After a long moment, he nodded.

“That,” he said, “I can agree to.”

With the terms settled, Namjoon and Jungkook had wanted to take you around the village to begin placing protection spells.

Except—

Your stomach had other ideas.

A quiet, traitorous rumble filled the room.

For a second, no one said anything.

Then—

Jungkook turned to look at you, blinking.

Heat immediately flooded your face.

You pressed a hand against your stomach as if that would somehow take back the sound, but the damage was done. Namjoon’s lips twitched in amusement. And Jungkook—

Jungkook grinned.

His wolf preened at the sight of your flushed face.

You cleared your throat. “Perhaps… a break before we start?”

Jungkook was already pushing up from his chair. “I’ll get food.”

Namjoon nodded. “Eat first. We can go after.”

And just like that, you found yourself following Jungkook to a smaller, more private space—a cozy, open room in the Pack House where food was often shared among the higher-ranking wolves. It wasn’t the main dining hall, where the majority of the pack ate together, but it wasn’t entirely secluded either.

Jungkook grabbed a plate and started piling food onto it—grilled meat, roasted vegetables, thick slices of bread. He moved with ease, almost unconsciously, as if he had done this a hundred times.

Which, you supposed, he had.

“You don’t have to serve me, you know,” you pointed out, watching him.

Jungkook didn’t even look up. “You just fainted a few hours ago. You’re eating.”

You huffed but said nothing as he handed you a full plate.

Then—before you could react—he grabbed a piece of bread and ripped it in half.

You stared.

“…Are you always this aggressive with your food?”

Jungkook paused mid-chew, eyes flicking to you.

Then he grinned, mouth still full. “Hmph.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips twitched.

You sat down at one of the wooden tables, and Jungkook took the seat beside you—right beside you, not across, not with space between. His thigh was close enough to brush against yours, his presence a warm, solid weight beside you.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you took the first bite. The food was simple but good. Well-seasoned, filling. It grounded you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

Jungkook watched you, a small flicker of satisfaction in his expression.

“You like it?” he asked.

You nodded, swallowing. “It’s good.”

Jungkook watched you eat with a quiet, deep satisfaction.

It wasn’t just relief that you were eating after what you had been through. It was something older, something ingrained into his instincts, something wolfen.

You were eating his food.

Food he had picked for you. Food he had given you.

And you liked it.

A low, pleased hum rumbled in his chest, too deep to be entirely human. His wolf settled, tail-wagging levels of happy, as you took another bite, clearly enjoying the meal.

He knew, logically, that you didn’t understand the significance. That you weren’t one of them.

But in his world, in his nature, providing for a mate was instinctual. Offering food wasn’t just kindness—it was a sign of care, protection. It was a wolf’s responsibility. Making sure you had everything you needed, that you were safe and fed, felt more fulfilling than it should.

Jungkook glanced at your plate—mostly empty now—and felt a surge of satisfaction so strong it almost startled him.

You had eaten everything.

Jin, who had silently slid into the seat across from you at some point, noticed.

Noticed the way Jungkook was sitting a little too close. The way his eyes flickered with something warm and possessive. The way his body was angled protectively toward you, even though there was no immediate threat.

And Jin, being Jin, did what he did best.

He grinned.

Jungkook shot him a glare, but it lacked heat.

Jin just picked up a piece of meat and bit into it lazily. “So,” he mused, glancing between you and Jungkook, “you’re really staying with him, huh?”

You swallowed the last bit of food, nodding. “Apparently.”

Jin’s grin widened. “Interesting.”

Jungkook groaned.

After you finished eating, Jin pushed himself up from his seat, stretching. “Namjoon’s caught up with other things,” he said, “so I’ll be the one following you while you work on the protection spells.”

Jungkook immediately frowned.

You gave Jin a small smile, genuinely pleased to have him accompany you. “You’re welcome to come, but I should warn you—it’s probably going to be boring.”

Jin gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Boring? Do you not know who I am? I am the life of every gathering. I bring light to the darkest of days. I—”

“You talk too much,” Jungkook muttered, rolling his eyes.

Jin ignored him, grinning as he leaned slightly closer to you. “Besides, if I wasn’t there, who knows what kind of trouble you and Jungkook would get into all alone?”

Jungkook kicked him under the table.

Jin howled, clutching his shin. “See?! This is the treatment I get for trying to protect your reputation?”

Jungkook scowled, but his ears were turning red.

You just shook your head, standing up chuckling. “Let’s just go.”

Jin, still grinning despite the pain, followed with a smug expression. Then, after one last glance at your empty plate—Jungkook’s wolf practically purring at the sight—you set off to begin your work.

The afternoon passed in a blur of whispered incantations and flickering air.

Some spells were nearly invisible, their effects subtle and woven seamlessly into the land. Others were more obvious—the air shimmered in places where barriers strengthened, the light bending as if the very world was shifting to accommodate your magic.

Jungkook watched you with open awe.

He had never seen magic like this before.

Of course, he had always known witches could do things wolves could not. But witnessing it firsthand—watching you shape the world with your hands, bend energy with nothing but your will—was entirely different.

You were unlike anything he had ever encountered.

And the pack was beginning to see it too.

At first, they had simply observed from a distance, hesitant and wary. But as the day went on, some wolves grew bolder. A few approached, curiosity outweighing suspicion.

Jungkook was tense at first. He didn’t like the way some of the wolves hovered nearby, their eyes locked onto you as you worked. Even if they weren’t outright hostile, they were still watching—still wary, still uncertain.

It made his wolf restless. Protective.

But as the day stretched on, something began to shift.

At first, the wolves had simply observed from a distance, hesitant and cautious. But curiosity was a powerful thing, and eventually, it overpowered their distrust. A few wolves stepped closer, drawn in by the strange yet mesmerizing sight of your work.

Jungkook kept his stance firm, his expression unreadable, but Jin nudged him lightly.

“Relax,” Jin murmured under his breath. “Look at them. They’re not snarling. They’re not snapping their teeth. Give them a chance.”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, glancing at you.

You were so focused, so calm, tracing unseen lines in the air with your fingertips, murmuring soft incantations that made the very atmosphere flicker. Your magic left shimmering traces behind—sometimes invisible, sometimes shifting like heat waves. It was beautiful.

And, surprisingly, some of the wolves thought so too.

One finally stepped forward, hesitant but determined. “What… exactly are you doing?”

Jungkook stiffened slightly, but you only turned to them with quiet patience.

“I’m warding the village,” you explained simply, pausing in your work to meet their gaze. “Strengthening the defenses so if hunters come again, we’ll have early warnings and protections.”

The wolf frowned, shifting on their feet as if processing your words. Jungkook held his breath, waiting for them to sneer, to challenge, to reject.

But instead—

“…That’s good,” they admitted.

Jungkook blinked.

The wolf didn’t say anything else, but they stepped back, watching you work with less wariness than before.

Jin shot Jungkook a knowing look. See?

And as much as Jungkook hated to admit it, Jin was right.

For the first time since you had arrived, it felt like a small part of the Pack was beginning to accept you. And though Jungkook wouldn’t let his guard down completely—though he still watched every wolf that got too close—he allowed himself to breathe.

It wasn’t acceptance. Not yet.

But it was a start.

Jungkook felt something warm settle in his chest as he observed the shift.

You were changing things here.

For the first time, his pack was beginning to see you not as an outsider, not as a witch—but as someone helping them.

And then—

“You should stop.”

Your hands stilled mid-gesture as Jungkook’s voice cut through the evening air.

You turned to look at him, confused. “What?”

The sun was dipping lower now, staining the sky in deep oranges and purples. The air was cooling.

Jungkook’s jaw was tight.

“You should stop for today.”

You frowned. “I can keep going.”

“No.”

The word was firm.

Your frown deepened. “Jungkook, I’m fine—”

“You fainted earlier.”

The reminder sent a ripple of stubbornness through you. “That was from a blood spell, not this.”

“I don’t care.”

His voice was steady, but his eyes—

His eyes were intense.

Frustrated. Worried.

His wolf was pacing beneath his skin, restless. The memory of you collapsing, unconscious and pale, was still too fresh.

You hesitated.

He took a step closer, his expression dark and serious. “You’re not pushing yourself past your limit again.”

The protective edge in his tone caught you off guard.

Jin, standing a few feet away, watched with open amusement but said nothing.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Jungkook—”

“No.”

You huffed under your breath, muttering, “You’re worse than Jimin.”

It wasn’t meant to be a big deal, just an exasperated complaint, but the second the words left your mouth, Jungkook’s expression darkened.

Worse than Jimin?

Jungkook, was not amused.

“Worse than Jimin?” he repeated, voice flat.

You blinked at him, only now realizing what you had done.

Jungkook didn’t like being compared to Jimin. But even more than that, he didn’t like the implication behind your words—the one that suggested you needed someone to stop you, that you wouldn’t stop on your own. That you had the same reckless streak that Jimin always scolded you for.

His jaw clenched. “That supposed to mean something?”

You hesitated. “It means you’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic?”

Jin snorted. “You are being a little dramatic, Jungkook.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, but it lacked real heat. Then he turned back to you, his sharp eyes searching your face.

“Stop pushing yourself,” he said firmly.

You exhaled, dragging a hand through your hair. You hadn’t even done that much. But something about the way he was watching you—like you were one wrong move away from collapsing again—made it impossible to argue.

You exhaled slowly. Then, finally, you gave in. “…Fine.”

Jungkook’s shoulders relaxed just slightly.

You hadn’t noticed how tense he had been.

Jin snickered. “Didn’t know you were this bossy, Jungkook.”

Jungkook ignored him.

Instead, his gaze softened as he looked at you. “Come on. You’ve done enough for today.”

And just like that—before you could argue further—he reached out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, tugging you gently in the direction of his home.

You let him lead you.

And behind you, Jin’s grin only widened.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Jungkook didn’t let go of your wrist the entire walk back.

It wasn’t until you stepped inside his home—until the door shut behind you, sealing you both in the quiet warmth of his space—that he realized it.

His body tensed. His grip slackened.

And then, as if burned, he let go.

Too fast. Too abrupt. He had been so preoccupied with keeping you close, with making sure you didn’t push yourself too hard, that he hadn’t thought about what he was doing. About what it meant.

His whole body tensed as he stepped away, putting deliberate distance between you. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking near his temple, and you could practically see the war waging inside him. Something unsettled flickered in his eyes, like a question he wasn’t willing to ask.

His heart pounded in his chest, restless and uneasy, his wolf scratching just beneath the surface, urging him to pull you close again. To feel that warmth, that connection.

But he didn’t.

Because that would be reckless. And selfish.

You hadn’t chosen him. Hell, you might not even know.

Jungkook swallowed, his throat bobbing, before his gaze snapped away. "You should take the bed."

You turned to him, one brow arching. "What?"

"You heard me." He gestured toward the small but comfortable-looking bed in the adjacent room. "You're still recovering. Take the bed."

You blinked at him, then let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, absolutely not. You should take the bed. This is your home."

"It's my home, which is why I'm saying you should take it."

You crossed your arms, leveling him with an unimpressed look. "I'm a guest. Guests take the couch. That’s just common courtesy."

"And hosts take care of their guests," he shot back, expression firm. "That’s just common sense."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You’ve already taken care of me enough."

"You passed out from that spell earlier," he reminded you. " And then spent the entire day working." He took a slow step closer, voice dipping into something softer. "You need proper rest."

"So do you."

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling smug for a moment—until you saw the way his ears had turned pink.

Jungkook didn’t care about himself. He cared about you.

And that realization made something unfamiliar twist low in your stomach.

Still, you weren’t about to let him win so easily.

"You’re taking the bed," he insisted.

"I’m taking the couch."

"You’re so damn stubborn."

You smirked. "Thank you."

"It wasn’t a compliment."

"Sure sounded like one."

Jungkook let out a low, frustrated groan, rolling his eyes skyward like he was asking the moon for patience.

This shouldn’t be such a big deal. It was just a bed. But the thought of you sleeping out here on the couch while his bed sat empty didn’t sit right with him. Not at all. You deserved comfort. Safety. The best he could offer you.

And…

And if he was being completely honest, part of him liked the idea of you sleeping in his bed.

Because then, when he went to sleep later—when he laid his head on the pillows and inhaled deeply—your scent would still be there, woven into the fabric, lingering in the space around him.

His wolf purred at the thought, tail practically wagging.

He swallowed thickly, pushing down the surge of want that threatened to rise to the surface.

"You’re taking the bed," he said, tone final.

You huffed. "No, I'm—"

Jungkook growled.

It wasn’t loud, wasn’t threatening—but it was warning.

You froze for half a second, eyes narrowing at him, then sighed. He was serious about this. And honestly… you were exhausted. The last two days had taken more out of you than you wanted to admit. The thought of sinking into a real bed instead of stiff cushions… well. That was tempting. And if Jungkook was going to be this insistent, you might as well accept the offer.

"Fine," you muttered.

Jungkook barely contained his victorious smirk.

Then, before you could change your mind, he turned toward the small storage space in the corner, pulling out a spare blanket for himself. "Good. Now go to sleep."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, you turned and headed toward the bedroom, the scent of pinewood and something distinctly him wrapping around you as you stepped inside. It was simple but comfortable—neat blankets, a small table near the window, and pillows stacked against the headboard.

It was undeniably his space.

And you were about to sleep in it. You already had, but now you would do so on your own.

And as you walked past him, heading toward his bedroom, Jungkook couldn’t help but glance at you—at the way your presence fit so easily into his home, like you belonged here.

Like you belonged with him.

His chest ached.

He turned away before he could think about it too much.

Tomorrow. He’d think about it tomorrow.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Jungkook woke up to the soft sounds of clinking utensils and a faint hum of a melody he couldn't quite place. The smell of something warm and comforting filled the air, making his stomach grumble, even though he wasn't quite awake yet.

He blinked slowly, his eyes adjusting to the light streaming through the small window. For a moment, he was disoriented, not fully sure where he was. But then the memory of the night before came rushing back—everything from the blood spell to your stubborn insistence on taking the couch. And now, here you were, in his kitchen, cooking.

He rubbed his face and pushed himself up, wincing slightly at the soreness in his muscles from the events of the last few days. His eyes fell on you, bent over a skillet, the faint sound of sizzling filling the silence between the two of you. You were humming lightly, focused on your task, completely at ease in his space.

The sight of you so comfortable, so... at home, made something warm stir inside him. He couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. This—this felt like peace. Like everything had settled into place. His mate, in his kitchen, cooking breakfast.

A low chuckle escaped him, and you turned slightly, catching the sound as you noticed him. His gaze met yours, a mix of amusement and something softer, unspoken, in his eyes.

"Good morning," you said, your voice calm and steady, though there was a hint of playfulness in your tone.

Jungkook stretched, his muscles protesting, but he ignored it. "I didn’t realize I was the guest here," he teased softly, trying to keep the mood light. "Shouldn't I be the one making breakfast for you?"

You didn't look up from the stove as you replied, your voice warm but firm, "I'm fine. The breakfast will be ready soon."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, watching you with a mix of amusement and admiration. There was no winning with you. "What kind of tea are you drinking?" he asked, a change of subject to keep the conversation going.

You paused for just a beat, considering whether you should tease him or not. Your eyes flickered over to him, and with a knowing smile, you said, "Lavender. I hope it’s okay I used yours. And something from the herbs I brought along. It’s meant to help with fatigue."

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but the soft laugh that followed was immediate. "Of course it’s okay. You don’t have to ask, you know." He stretched, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and a smile tugged at his lips.

You gave a small, appreciative smile, then turned your attention back to the tea. As you listed the herbs you had brought, Jungkook raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and something like suspicion.

"What exactly did you bring?" he asked, his voice teasing. "Are you making potions instead of tea?"

You met his gaze and couldn’t help but laugh lightly. "Nothing that extreme," you teased back, though there was a glint of something serious in your eyes. "Just a blend to help with your energy levels. It’ll give you a little more balance."

"You should try it," you said, your voice gentle as you poured him a cup of tea and passed it to him.

As his fingers brushed yours, a strange, electric feeling ran through him. It was subtle at first—just the briefest of touches—but it sent a jolt of warmth straight to his chest. His heartbeat quickened, his breath catching as the sensation seemed to settle deep inside him. It felt like home, like peace had washed over him.

You froze for a fraction of a second, the weight of the moment hanging between you, but neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved.

Jungkook’s breath faltered as he glanced down at your fingers, now both holding the cup in your hand, feeling the lingering warmth of your touch still dancing along his skin. His wolf stirred restlessly, but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to break the silence.

He wanted to. He wanted to ask you if you felt it too. But he couldn’t.

You finally broke the moment with a soft, steady exhale, your fingers retreating slowly as you handed him the cup. The air around you felt heavier, charged, but neither of you acknowledged it.

"Do you like it?" you asked, your voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

Jungkook chuckled, though a small part of him still wondered what other strange remedies you had hidden among those herbs. He took a sip of the tea, letting the warm liquid settle over him. He couldn’t deny it was soothing.

"It’s good," he murmured, looking at you with a playful glint. "Maybe you should just make all my tea from now on."

For a moment, you both stood there, silently sharing the quiet of the morning, the tension between you simmering just beneath the surface. Jungkook glanced at you again, wondering if you knew what had just passed between you. Wondering if you could feel it too.

But he didn’t ask. And you didn’t say anything more.

The air hummed with unsaid words. With possibilities neither of you was ready to confront.

Yet.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Jungkook was still watching you when the sharp knock at the door made you both jump slightly, shattering the fragile moment between you.

Jin’s voice carried through the wood. “Jungkook, open up! You too, witch, I know you’re in there.”

Jungkook groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hyung, it’s too damn early for your nonsense.”

“Too early?” Jin scoffed. “Half the pack has been awake since dawn. Now open the door before I break it down.”

You exchanged a glance with Jungkook, who rolled his eyes before getting up and swinging the door open.

Jin stood there, arms crossed, looking entirely unimpressed. His sharp gaze flickered over you before settling back on Jungkook. “The pack house needs you both. Some of the wounded need another check, and others specifically asked to thank the witch who healed them.” He gave you a pointed look. “Try not to look so surprised. You did save their lives.”

You shifted, pushing your tea cup aside. “I don’t mind helping,” you said after a pause.

Jin nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

The walk to the pack house was quiet, though Jungkook stuck close to you, his presence steady beside you. The moment had been disrupted, but you were almost grateful for it—because the longer you spent with him, the harder it was to ignore the lingering dread creeping in. The moment you finished here, you’d have to leave. Jimin was expecting you back home. And the thought of walking away from this place, from Jungkook, left a weight in your chest that you weren’t ready to unpack.

At the pack house, things quickly became busy. You checked over wounds, reinforced healing spells, and even brewed a potion for revitalization—something to help the injured regain their strength faster. Some of the wolves you’d treated were hesitant at first, still wary of a witch in their midst, but others, grateful for your help, actually sought you out to thank you.

Jungkook remained by your side the entire time. Whether it was intentional or not, you weren’t sure, but you could feel him—his presence, his gaze, his silent reassurance. It made it easier to breathe, even as your mind churned with thoughts you didn’t want to face.

Jin stayed behind at the pack house as you and Jungkook left to continue warding the village. You had just reached the edge of the territory when another familiar voice cut through the air.

“You really have no shame, do you?”

Hoseok.

You turned just in time to see him approaching, his expression unreadable but his tone laced with irritation.

Jungkook immediately tensed beside you.

“I’m busy, Hoseok,” you said evenly, refusing to let him get under your skin.

“Oh, I can see that,” he said, eyeing the way Jungkook stood close to you. “Busy playing house with our second-in-command?”

Your jaw clenched, but before you could say anything, Jungkook moved.

He stepped between you and Hoseok, his posture rigid, shoulders squared. “Watch it,” Jungkook warned, voice low and dangerous.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “What? I’m just wondering when exactly we started trusting witches so easily. Or is she just an exception?”

Jungkook’s muscles coiled, his hands clenching into fists. “I don’t need to explain anything to you.”

Hoseok scoffed, crossing his arms. “Right. Of course not. Just like you don’t need to explain why you’re acting like she’s more important than the pack.”

The accusation sent a sharp wave of tension through the air. You could feel the way Jungkook’s anger crackled beneath the surface, restrained only by a thin thread of control.

“I swore to protect her,” Jungkook said, his voice quiet but firm.

Hoseok’s expression darkened. “Why?”

Jungkook’s grip tightened at his sides. “Because she could saved us.”

Hoseok took a slow step forward, looking past Jungkook to meet your gaze. “Did she? Or did she just do what was convenient for her?”

That was the final straw.

Jungkook lunged first.

The impact was sudden, raw. The two of them crashed to the ground, rolling through the dirt as fists flew. Hoseok wasn’t weak, but neither was Jungkook—especially not when he was this furious.

You barely had time to react before they were locked in a vicious struggle, growls ripping through the air. Jungkook fought like he had something to prove, like he was defending something that went far beyond just you being a witch in their territory.

Because this wasn’t just about the pack anymore.

It was about you.

And though Jungkook wasn’t ready to admit it—to himself or to anyone else—he wouldn’t let anyone talk to his mate like that.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Jungkook barely had time to process his own fury before he was moving. His body acted before his mind could catch up, instincts taking over in a single, explosive movement.

One second, he was standing between you and Hoseok, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles ached. The next, he lunged.

The impact was immediate—bone and muscle colliding with raw force. They hit the ground hard, rolling through the dirt as the force of Jungkook’s tackle sent them skidding across the clearing. A snarl tore from Jungkook’s throat, his wolf dangerously close to the surface.

Hoseok wasn’t weak. He recovered quickly, twisting his body mid-roll to break free from Jungkook’s grip, and in the next heartbeat, he retaliated.

A fist shot out, catching Jungkook just under the ribs, but it wasn’t enough to make him back down. If anything, it only made him more determined.

Jungkook shoved back, hard, knocking Hoseok onto his back before pinning him down with a knee to his chest. His breath came heavy, his heart pounding in his ears, but he barely noticed.

"You don’t get to talk about her like that," he growled, voice rough with warning.

Hoseok scoffed beneath him, gritting his teeth as he struggled against Jungkook’s hold. "So that’s what this is about?" he spat. "Not the pack, not the safety of our people—just her?"

Jungkook’s grip tightened, fingers curling into the fabric of Hoseok’s shirt. "She saved us," he bit out, his tone lethal. "She saved Namjoon. She saved me. And you still act like she’s the enemy."

Hoseok’s eyes flashed, his own anger simmering beneath the surface. "She’s a witch," he snapped. "You don’t just forget centuries of bloodshed because of one act of kindness."

Jungkook’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "And you don’t blame someone for things they didn’t do."

A tense silence stretched between them, their harsh breaths the only sound in the air. The pack house wasn’t far—others would have heard the commotion by now. But neither of them moved, neither willing to be the first to back down.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw you take a small step forward. You weren’t afraid, not of him, not of Hoseok. But there was something in your expression—something wary, something uncertain.

And it made Jungkook’s fury deepen.

Because you shouldn’t have to look at his pack like that. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself every time you turned around.

His fingers twitched against Hoseok’s collar, but he forced himself to release his grip, shoving himself back just enough to let the other man breathe. Hoseok coughed, rubbing his chest as he sat up, but his glare didn’t waver.

"She doesn’t belong here," he said, his voice lower now, but just as sharp.

Jungkook’s hands curled into fists at his sides. "She belongs wherever she wants to be," he said firmly. "And if she chooses to be here, then that’s her choice. Not yours."

For a long moment, Hoseok didn’t reply. He only stared at Jungkook, then at you, as if weighing something unspoken. Then, with a heavy exhale, he pushed himself to his feet.

"This isn’t over," he muttered, brushing dirt from his clothes.

Jungkook didn’t look away. "It is for now," he said, voice cold.

Hoseok cast one last glance between the two of you before turning on his heel and walking off, his posture stiff with lingering tension.

The second he was gone, the air between you and Jungkook shifted.

His shoulders were still taut, his body wound too tight, but when he turned to look at you, something softened in his expression.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges.

You blinked, caught off guard. "I—yes," you said slowly. "You didn’t have to do that, you know."

Jungkook exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, I did."

You studied him for a long moment, something unreadable passing through your eyes. He was still tense, shoulders squared, fists flexing at his sides like he wasn’t quite ready to let go of the fight.

Your gaze flickered down to where Hoseok had landed a solid punch just under his ribs. A faint shadow of pain crossed his face before he schooled his features again.

"Are you alright?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. "That hit looked like it hurt."

Jungkook scoffed, shifting his weight. "It’s nothing."

You frowned. "That’s not an answer."

His lips twitched, but when you stepped forward, reaching a careful hand toward his side, he stiffened. Not because he didn’t want you close—but because the moment your fingers brushed his shirt, something in him nearly unraveled.

"Should I take a look at it?" you asked, voice softer now. "Just to make sure it won’t bruise too badly?"

Jungkook swallowed, throat bobbing. He should say no. He knew he should. But you were standing so close, the scent of lavender and something warm filling the space between you, and for some reason, he didn’t want to move away.

He wanted to say yes.

And that terrified him.

But before he could answer, the sound of footsteps broke the moment, distant but approaching. His jaw clenched as he turned his head, knowing it was probably another member of the pack coming to check on the fight.

You took a small step back, hands dropping to your sides.

"Later, then," you murmured.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you meant the check-up or something else entirely.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Jungkook barely had a moment to catch his breath before another set of hurried footsteps approached. A younger wolf, barely past his first shift, skidded to a stop in front of them, panting.

"Jungkook," the boy gasped, eyes darting between you and the beta. "Alpha Namjoon needs you. Now."

Jungkook’s entire body tensed. "What happened?"

The boy hesitated, glancing at you, before lowering his voice. "There’s been movement near the eastern border. Strangers. We don’t know if they’re hunters or rogues, but Namjoon wants you there."

A growl rumbled deep in Jungkook’s chest. His instincts screamed at him to stay—to keep you within reach, where he knew you were safe—but the pack came first. And if there was a threat near their borders, he couldn’t ignore it.

His gaze snapped to you, his brow furrowed in hesitation. "You go stay with Jin," he ordered, voice rough. "Don’t go anywhere until I get back."

You sighed, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I’ll be fine, Jungkook. It’s just for a moment."

He didn’t look convinced.

You stepped closer to Jungkook, voice lowering. "Really, go. Your pack needs you. I’ll be right here with Jin when you get back."

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. His wolf didn’t like this—not one bit. But he forced himself to nod, eyes lingering on you for a second longer before turning away.

The moment he disappeared into the trees, you went to find Jin. It didn’t take long for you to find him and tell him why you were without Jungkook.

"You know," Jin mused, leaning lazily against a tree. "I think that might be the first time for Jungkook to hesitate to follow an order."

You crossed your arms, rolling your eyes. "He’s just protective."

Jin hummed, looking at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart. That’s not just protection. That’s something else entirely."

You opened your mouth to argue—but then closed it again. Because deep down, you knew Jin wasn’t wrong.

And that realization was almost as terrifying as the thought of Jungkook being forced away from you.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The minutes stretched longer than you expected. Jungkook still wasn’t back, and though you weren’t worried for your safety, you couldn’t shake the unease creeping in. Jin, ever the social one, kept you occupied with stories about the pack and his long-standing friendship with both Jungkook and Namjoon.

“You know, Jungkook wasn’t always the brooding, silent type,” Jin mused, leaning against a tree. “When we were younger, he was the first to pick fights, but not out of aggression. It was just his way of proving himself. Namjoon always had to drag him out of trouble.”

You smiled faintly, picturing a younger Jungkook, all wild energy and untamed defiance. “And you? Were you the responsible one?”

Jin scoffed. “Me? Absolutely not. I just had the best excuses to get us out of trouble.” He smirked, then his expression softened. “Jungkook’s loyalty is fierce, though. If you have him on your side, he’ll never let anything happen to you.”

You hesitated. “I know.”

Jin watched you for a moment before changing the subject. “Hoseok, by the way? I have a theory about why he’s been so difficult with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

Jin chuckled. “He doesn’t trust outsiders, sure. But it’s more than that. He thinks you’re going to take Jungkook from the pack.”

You blinked. “What?”

“He sees how Jungkook looks at you,” Jin continued, voice casual but sharp with meaning. “Even if Jungkook doesn’t realize it yet, Hoseok does. And he’s scared of what that means.”

Your lips parted, a denial forming, but before you could say anything—

A sharp whistle tore through the air.

Then, chaos erupted.

Shouts and growls filled the village as figures clad in dark clothing emerged from the tree line. Hunters. Again.

Your stomach lurched. Jin’s posture changed instantly, his easygoing demeanor vanishing as he grabbed your wrist. “Stay close.”

Chaos erupted almost instantly. The pack members still recovering from the last attack scrambled to evacuate the children and elderly while others shifted mid-run, lunging toward their attackers.

You nodded, but already, your thoughts raced. Not because you feared for yourself—you could handle this. But because Jungkook wasn’t here. If he were, you’d at least know he was safe.

The battle broke out in full force. Wolves, still recovering from the last attack, fought through their injuries to defend their home. Children were ushered away, their cries blending with the clashing of steel and snarls of wolves mid-shift.

You moved quickly, helping where you could. Spells left your lips, defensive barriers flashing to life, potions thrown to heal the wounded. Jin fought beside you, sharp and ruthless.

Then, in the chaos, you lost him.

You turned sharply, searching, but before you could find him, movement caught your eye. A hunter—a man clad in dark leathers, blade gleaming—rushed toward a small girl with pigtails, frozen in fear.

You didn’t think. You moved.

One hand grabbed the child, the other reaching into your pouch. As the hunter’s blade swung down, you twisted, pulling the girl with you, and hurled a vial of shimmering powder at the attacker’s face.

He screamed, clawing at his eyes, stumbling back in agony barely missing you.

But before you could react further, the unmistakable sound of crystals shattering on stone sent a cold dread through you.

Two glimmering stones landed behind you, their shards glowing faintly.

Binding Crystals.

A barrier flared to life, sealing you inside a confined space—cut off from the rest of the pack.

Two hunters were with you.

"Looks like we caught ourselves a little witch," one sneered.

You exhaled slowly, grounding yourself. "Stay exactly where you are," you murmured to the girl. "And close your eyes."

The hunters chuckled. "You don’t seem to understand your situation."

A small smile curved your lips as you reached into your pouch once more. "No," you said calmly, pulling out another vial, this one filled with a thick, black inky liquid.

"You don’t understand yours."

With a flick of your wrist, you uncorked the vial.

Black smoke poured out instantly, thick and unnatural, swallowing the space whole. The hunters cursed, stumbling back as the darkness consumed everything in its path.

And then—

Jungkook arrived.

He and his patrol burst onto the scene just in time to see the last of you disappear into the smoke.

Not one, but two hunters with you.

Rage, cold and absolute, filled him.

"No."

Without thinking, he lunged toward the barrier—only to be thrown back violently, skidding across the ground as the magic repelled him.

"No!" His roar shook the trees, his wolf raging against his skin, furious and desperate.

You were gone.

And he couldn’t reach you.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦ Part 2

@somehowukook

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

moonshine leaks in through the window blinds.

suguru is undressing, sluggishly, in the dim darkness of your bedroom. he is weary; as are you. it’s been a long, long day, celebrating in the morning, in the evening, going to the spring festival downtown and grabbing hotpot with satoru and shoko right after — stopping by their favorite bar before finally heading home. fatigue drags your bones against soft flooring, as you rummage through his closet, pull your worn hoodie over your head and let it fall to the floor. 

suguru’s birthday is always eventful. your boyfriend is a well-loved man, after all; no less by you than anyone else. it’s been worth it, worth every ache in your joints, to see him smile and scoff and swallow down mouthfuls of soba and cake. to see him a little sheepish, a little tipsy, a little more open with his heart than usual. sweetness brings it out of him. 

(you’re happy, that this year was a success as well.)

a low groan. you turn your head, to watch as he cranes his neck, stretches his arms, as the muscles of his bicep coil and twitch under the linen of his shirt. as he slips out of it, lets his hair fall, a hair tie slipping down to rest around his wrist. his roots must ache, by now — you wonder if he’ll let you massage his scalp, just to help him unwind. but suguru gets restless after being pampered for too long. could barely stop himself from pouring your drink, over and over, carrying you the last bit home even though his own legs must have yearned for respite too.

sometimes, you want to ask him — can you please just let me love you?

(his answer is usually a smile.)

”god,” comes the voice of an angel, raspy and sweet. the heel of his palm meets the blade of his shoulder, digs into the skin as if to soothe it. ”’m exhausted.”

a smile tugs your lips up, blooms like a peach tree and flutters in tune with your heartbeat. you put your arms through the gaps of an oversized tee, press your nose against the fabric and inhale, the scent of laundry detergent and musk soothing your muddled senses. after pulling it over your head, you’re left in nothing but your boxers and his shirt. it makes him melt, you’re more than aware. when your hair is tousled, from the midnight air and satoru’s restless hand — when you’re engulfed in nothing but him.

”well, we walked a lot,” you exhale, sending him a sweetened glance. he returns it with a huff. 

”talked a lot, too,” he mutters, too tired to sound as displeased as he’d probably like. you drink in the sight of his skin under lunar light, lap up the excess cobalt, swallow softly. ”why is it that all my energy magically drains as soon as satoru’s involved…?”

”he loves you,” you supply, not-so-helpfully. ”he just hasn’t had a chance to bug you in a while, i guess.”

a scoff. 

”he has a funny way of showing it…”

suguru unbuckles his belt, kicks off his jeans, and slumps back on the bed with a silent sigh — the mattress creaks beneath his weight, allows him to get comfortable on the very edge. gazing at you, patiently, spheres of rusted-gold through lidded eyes. heavy with what you know to be fatigue.

he pats his lap, one heavy hand. 

”come here, sweetheart.”

(his voice alone melts you down to the marrow. sweet and smooth, roughed up from the outing; the purr of a needy cat, silken sheets and jasmine buds.)

a moth to a flame, or a lamb to a knife — you are pliant as you move towards your lover. weak, as you tuck your legs over his knees and slide into his lap.

an inhale. he buries his face in your shirt, his shirt — smiles, noses against your pulsepoint and the tender valley of skin between your jaw and shoulder. engraves your scent into his being.

”i love you,” he whispers, a low lull of his tongue. a kiss against your neck. ”thank you for today.”

the words have left you long before your mind tugs at your lips. ”i love you too, sugu.” you nuzzle against his locks, relish as they tickle your sensitive skin. ”i don’t think i did much, though…”

”no?” you hear the smile, the hint of a chuckle, even as he lifts his fingers to pinch your little nose. ”you don’t think so, silly?”

he tuts — eyes gleaming under artificial light, the lamp on your nightstand. 

”even made me breakfast.”

”… it turned out so-so.”

an exhale, at your little frown. humoured, your mind supplies, if a little exasperated. he clicks his tongue, rubs his thumb over the bridge of your nose before letting go. ”it was lovely,” he corrects. ”you’re lovely.”

and you know that he’s displeased. you know by the way he says it, how softly he shuts you down and guides you in the right direction, lips smearing kisses on your vulnerable skin as if reproaching you. he’s sleepy, can’t help but be lazy, no less thorough in his mission. has no mercy for your jaw, or collarbone, or neck. you’re shivering, shaky sighs slipping out — curling your arms around his neck and angling your head to give him more room to work with. he can be greedy, tonight, you don’t mind. whatever he wants. his fingers find solace in the plushness of your hips, squeezes softly, molds the flesh. a silent thank you. 

for what, you wonder.

melting when your skin meets his? letting him touch you like this? trusting him to do it gently?

your mind is tangled up in knots. just letting him love you, hold you close, feeling his heartbeat through the fabric of his shirt — ba-dump, ba-dump, like waves crashing into shore. you hope he cannot hear the constant patter of your own; hope he cannot sense the prickling of your nerves. he might think the night is over, but you still have something more to offer.

… or, at least you should.

it’s nerve-racking. your heartbeat knocks at your ribs, sticks its head out to ask how you’ve been. better, you’d like to say. a lot less close to passing out. silly, silly body, never letting you get off easy — never being of any use. it shouldn’t be this scary, not even close. you know your lines. you’ve practiced all week. but it is, and it’s paralyzing, and suguru is so tired he’s just gnawing at your earlobe now. 

clammy hands, beating heart, shaky fingers.

(you wish it was easier to say what’s inside.)

”i… have another present,” you mumble, finally, into his hair. as if that will muffle it. swirling a lock around your finger, playing with it to ease your mind.

suguru blinks. you feel the flutter of his eyes against your skin, the ghosts of pretty raven lashes. he pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes — watching you, closely, to see what you mean. attentive. 

there’s a certain look in his eyes.

”… more?” he asks, voice scraping against the walls of his throat, the buzzing of a dragonfly. he slips a hand under your shirt, curls it around your naked waist to tug you closer, keep you safe and still. ”haven’t i been spoiled enough, today?”

he’s smiling. you don’t think he knows what you mean, but he must sense your hesitance. keeps his hand on your hip, rubs comforting circles into your skin, seems to delight in the way your body can’t help but tremble all while leaning into it. stupid, beautiful suguru, stupid wandering hands. he’s only making your heartbeat sputter more. 

it’s too difficult. even after that peptalk with satoru and shoko, you can’t find the words you need. 

finding a birthday gift for suguru is always a hurdle. every single year. you can never decide on what to go for, never settle for just one thing — because he’d be happy with anything, you know that, but it’s not enough when you’re as smitten as you are. when all you want is to give him something that will make him smile brighter than ever, a smile that’s just for you.

what would make him the happiest? what do you want to tell him, more than anything? 

you always agonize over it, sure, but this year…

(even if it’s a little much, you —)

”haha… well…” 

you shift on his lap, tuck your thighs around his waist, just needing stability. and it’s muscle memory, your skin against his, bodies molding together like liquidated gold. he watches you, patiently — doesn’t rush or force the words out. a sun god in your room, on your bed. tangled up in sheets he washed for you. 

a sliver of sunshine, that belongs only to you.

what is there to say?

even now, you can’t uncap the lid over your heart. your hands are too shaky to dust off the longing. if you could, you’d say something like: 

i love you, i love you, i love you.

i want to wash your hair, and kiss your eyelids when you sleep, and scrub the rot from off your bones. i don’t want to care about what anyone else thinks. 

i could tell you i love you a million times.

also, do you want to get married? 

i know i’ve made you wait — you always wait so patiently — but would you mind?

would you be mine forever? 

a sudden sting. your teeth sink into your bottom lip, as if to silence your own thoughts, the phantom taste of heavy iron blooming on your tongue. slick vines wrap themselves around your teeth and sew your mouth shut. no words, no breaths, no nothing. 

just clammy hands, beating heart, shaky fingers. 

(you wish you could be kinder to the monster in your ribs.)

”… tomorrow,” you sigh, at last, the word forcing its way through your throat. you slump your cheek against his forehead, fleeing from his prying gaze, the question on your mind. ”… you’ll get it tomorrow.”

(shoko’s voice rings in your ear. coward, she’d say. loser, satoru would add. they’d be right.)

stupid, silly heartbeat. beating so loudly you can’t even find your voice. 

but suguru only smiles.

”… not today?” he brushes against your bottom lip, traps it between his thumb and pointer finger. tilts his head, softly. ”did you change your mind?”

you melt, into his touch, head dipping forward. 

”… just wanna wait a little longer,” you sigh, a little shaky, feeling sheepish. ”is… that okay?”

”of course.” his answer comes as soon as you ask. 

as natural as breathing.

mwah. his lips meet yours, chaste and sweet, gone as soon as you’ve thought to lean into it. ”i’ll always wait for you,” he says. ”you know that, don’t you?”

(you do.)

a silent nod. he seems to note your sour mood, the ghost of a pout on your lips. because he chuckles, that familiar purr-like rasp, falling backwards and tugging you with him — pushing you down against the mattress, crawling over you, a praying mantis with the smile of a fox. gentle, gentle, his hands cupping your hips. black hair frames his face, his smile, the moonshine gliding across his nose and cheekbones. he’s all you can see, until he’s leaning forward, nosing against your pulsepoint to feel the pitter-patter there. you can still feel the weight of his gaze, sticky honey-webs of oak and cedar.

warm, warm, warm. a little sleepy.

and he sighs against your skin. 

”i want to tell you i love you a million times,” he says, an orange split into tender halves. ”you know that?”

he sounds tired. he sounds happy, deliriously so, like he can barely believe it himself. you like it when he gets this playful, like it when the hint of boyishness he keeps carefully concealed spills through the gaps.

you blink.

a matching sigh, from your loverotted lungs. ”.. yeah,” you murmur. ”i know. i’d say it back a million times.”

a plum tree blooms against your collarbone, the branches of his lips stretching up into a grin. ”see? you’re perfect.” he moves up, captures your lips with his own, savours the flavour of your lip balm. eyes gleaming like fireflies. ”just perfect for me…”

ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. 

”what other gift could i possibly need?”

… and, well — it’s hard to argue when he sounds so convinced. when his skin is gleaming, when he’s on top of you, caging you in with his thighs and keeping you steady. when he looks like the rest of your life. 

it’s hard, even though a litany of words scratch against your windpipe, begging to be set free. even though you didn’t want to be a coward, today. 

(any other day of the year would have been fine.)

a hand cups your cheek. 

”… hm?” he tilts his head, raises an eyebrow. awaits your response, with fond, tired eyes.

you bite your lip. ”… i guess…”

”no, you don’t guess,” he huffs, half a chuckle. leans close to nip at your cheek. ”you know. i’m already spoiled with your presence. what else do i need?”

”well, it’s just—”

”no.” he shuts you up, mashes his lips against yours again. ”no more of that. okay, sweetheart?”

…

”thank you for today.” he echoes, into the shell of your ear. the warmth in his voice sparks against your spine. ”i had a lovely time. with the others, with you.”

an underlying demand —

you know what he wants.

so you give in. whatever he wants, you remind yourself. whatever he wants.

”… you’re welcome,” you mumble, finally. defeated, just breathing in his scent, smooth hints of bergamot and coconut oil. ”happy birthday, suguru.”

(and he smiles.)

one more kiss, and then he’s pulling back. watching you, softly, laid out across his sheets like sunshine spilling through the window blinds in spring.

”… thank you, honey.”

(tomorrow, you’ll air out your restless ribcage. uncap the lid, dust off the longing.)

today, however — you will lie with clammy hands, a beating heart, and shaky fingers. let him hold you close, as tightly as he wants, for as long as he wants.

whatever he wants.

the words can wait; they’re good at that.

[littlelovelunette]

Submissive With A Cock

Lost the request for ittt

Contains smut, strap, degradation, submissive!vi, spitting, cock slapping, choking, implications of chastising cock, breeding, bdsm, orgasm control, sadistic!r, filthy filthy sex, wax play, nipple play, bondage

Word count: 1.6k

Vi was crying out with each and every bounce, she was stuck riding your strap, dildo disappearing in her tight asshole with each and every thrust.

Filthy moans spilled past her scarred lips, she felt way too good to even phrase it right.

Vi's nipple pierced tits were bouncing up and down with every little motion she made— the nipple piercings shining in the dim golden light of the cramped bedroom you both shared.

You leaned back cozily and comfortably as you scrolled through your phone with your right hand, left hand holding her cock and giving it lazy slow strokes.

"Mommy, please." Vi breathily moaned and tried to struggle against the ties holding her wrists behind her back but it was of no use.

"Mommy please what?" Your tone was taunting as you looked at her, sparing her a simple glance. "Look at you pathetically riding my strap. You're the one with a real dick—" You slapped the shaft making it twitch and making Vi whimper. "—Yet I'm the one dicking you down."

Vi let out a whine at that, wincing as you grabbed her cock and squeezed it oh your hands, creamy liquid seeping out of the tip.

"Slut." You spat between the valley of her tits, spit dripping down so disgustingly but it was on Vi so it was anything but disgusting— it suited her. Suited her fucked out state. Her pathetic whore-like state.

Vi let out a small strangled moan as you thrust your hips up hard against her asshole. "Oh, so good!" Vi cried out, precum dripping out of her reddened tip.

"Fuck, you're dripping so much." You laughed as you continued thrusting your hips up making Vi's face contort, small sounds leaving her, "Maybe I should just lock your pathetic cock up instead. I'm way too nice with you, aren't I?"

"Mommy, please, don't do that." Vi pleaded, looking at you with puppy eyes. "I'll be good. I'll be good." She panted mindlessly as her muscles strained against the restraints of her hands

You will, huh?" You held Vi's thigh, guiding her up and down on the dildo. You held the shaft of her dick with your hand and stroked it, tilting it up making Vi clench around the strap.

"Gonna cum?" You asked, feeling her cock twitching in your hand. Vi nodded pathetically and babbled, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Vi let out a scream of pleasure, thick ropes of semen splattering on her own chest and face.

"Fuck..." Vi cursed under her breath, your thumb pressed against Vi's bottom lip, forcing the liquid into her mouth using your finger.

"You taste good, don't you?" You smirked and Vi nodded, "Yes... So good..."

"Mommy, can I please put it in you?" Vi asked in a small, innocent voice. She stared at you with her puppy eyes making you smirk a little, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

"You want to stuff this tight cunt?" You asked, making Vi whimper a little, nodding her head immediately.

"Wanna fill up mommy's cunt, hmm?" You taunted with a smirk on your lips. Vi, however, shameless as she was, nodded eagerly.

"Please, please, please!" Vi pleaded, making you laugh a little before nodding and tapping her hip.

"Come on. Get off."

You slipped the ties and loops off of Vi's arms.

Vi got off the strap, helping you take the harness off your body. You slowly spread your legs out. "Mommy... So wet for me." Vi whispered and traced your wet folds with her fingers.

"Stop playing around, slut, you know you want it, stuff it." You ordered making Vi nod quickly, grabbing her shaft with one hand and guiding it to your slit.

Vi slid it in with ease, a throaty moan leaving your lips. Vi slowly started thrusting, finding a rhythmic pace that you approved of. "Mommy, please say I'm doing good."

"Yeah, you are." You said, pulling Vi's torso down, "You are doing so good." Vi wrapped her arms around you as she desperately rammed her huge cock inside you making lewd squelching sounds fill the room.

You didn't care the room smelled like sweat and semen, even Vi smelled like her own semen but fuck, did you love messy, filthy sex.

Vi's cock was already so sensitive, even as your walls fluttered tightly around her shaft you expected her to hold off for way longer. If there was any rule you made Vi follow it was that you get to come first whenever she's penetrating you with her submissive shaft.

But this time it felt like she really wouldn't be able to hold herself off because of how much she was twitching inside your tight cunt. Of course, you knew she was teetering on the very edge of an orgasm so you just had to give it a little push.

Afterall, it was your job to train your bitch wasn't it? Vi's eyes snapped open and mouth parted, her brain barely registering words rather just pleasure as she merely managed to utter the word "Mommy."

And before she could apologise or even think of it, you felt the gush of semen flood your insides. She did it. And now you had your little excuse to give Vi a probably borderline pain-pleasure punishment.

"Mommy, please that was an accident, it won't happen again I swear! I'm just sensitive, I'll have better—" Vi began but you were already pulling her cock out and forcing her to lay with her back flat against the bed.

You grabbed the ropes you had used to tie her hands with before and used them to tie her wrists to the bedpost, disabling her from using those biceps which were honestly just eye candy because she simply was too submissive (when in subspace) to use them or her dick for that matter.

Your first slap to her cock made her whole body jolt in the sudden pain, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She babbled out, tears streaming down her cheeks already. You knew she was sensitive, she came two times already and her third orgasm was probably building up as she simply thought of the punishment she'd have to endure now.

"Such a useless thing." You squeezed her length making Vi's eyes squeeze close, a small "Hah..." Leaving her mouth.

You knew, she was in for a long night.

You stood up and walked to the cabinet, taking out the BDSM candles you both had contemplated on using before but Vi wasn't brave enough to ask for it, knowing you'd taunt her to death about it.

You lit the candle and watched the wax slowly start melting, “Tell me, slut, how sorry are you?”

“I'm sorry, mommy, I'm sorry, please. I'll have better control!” Vi squeaked, feeling the hot wax starting to coat her shaft. “It burns! It's hot!”

“Yet your cock is twitching, precumming.” You laughed tilting the candle to let more wax fall on her cock, Vi cried out in pleasure with her head thrown back.

Her mouth opened a little but only a small choked moan issued barely even audible.

“I'll be good… will control…”

You blew the candle out after a bit and put it on the bedside table before slowly wiping the wax off her dick.

“Mhm? Your cock is so warm now.” You laughed a little and hovered your cunt over her cock making Vi’s eyes instantly sparkle.

“Please, inside, please.” Vi pleaded pathetically, face shining with her tear stains and sweat. Your fingers tangled in her sweat dampened hair as you sunk down, letting her hard warm length slide inside your achingly wet pussy.

“Mommy, so tight…” Vi whined and cried out, you wrapped your legs around Vi, bringing her hands out of the ties and onto your breasts.

“Play.” You said and Vi instantly started pinching and pulling on the nipples, sucking and leaving hickeys on your mounds as well.

“Mommy's boobs…” Vi stuffed her face in the curve of your breasts, suckling contently as you slowly started moving your hips, riding her cock. “S-So good.”

“Yeah? Fuck, you're so big, you like mommy's tight cunt, huh?” You held Vi’s throat, squeezing it a little making her gasp for air. Her face scrunched up in pleasure and reddened more than before. It was clear she loved your wet tight cunt around her cock.

“Mommyyyyyy! Please, kiss.” Vi puckered up her lips eagerly, it was so cute as she repeated it again, “Kiss…”

You moaned a little feeling her cock hit your cervix. “What a baby.” You said but there was no real heat behind your words as you grabbed her jaw and brought her in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

Your tongue delved in her mouth swallowing her moans as Vi's hands left your tits and held your waist instead guiding you to bounce on her cock.

“Mommy, I'm gonna cum, please, I'm gonna cum, can I cum?” Vi squeaked as she trembled beneath you.

“Not yet, hold on,” you panted, “I'm close too, fuck, let's cum together.”

Vi nodded and wrapped her arms around you pausing your motions as she brought you in for a sweaty, tight hug.

She desperately fucked into you as she bucked her hips up, making you moan and hold her tightly as you came on her dick.

Just after you came, Vi came too, inside you, painting your inner walls white.

As you slowly got up, letting her shaft slide out of your spent pussy, you grinned seeing the now unconscious woman lay beneath you, cock slightly reddened from the stimulation.

“My slut. My slut with a cock.”

[rafes-slut]

Angst/smut request where reader is a bit self concious in bed, not wanting her to see her face, she feels embarressed making faces and he's had enough

Hope you will like it!

LOOK AT ME

Warnings: Smut (18+), bondage (wrists tied), dominance, slight anger/frustration, possessiveness, explicit language, missionary position, light restraint, forced eye contact, slight praise kink.

----

The nightstand lamp cast a warm glow across Rafe’s room, dim but enough to illuminate every inch of you—the way you were sprawled on his bed beneath him, lips swollen from kissing, breath shaky from his touch. The sheets were a mess already, tangled beneath your bodies as his weight pressed against you, his mouth claiming yours in a way that made your head spin.

Nights like this were nothing new. You had been with Rafe long enough to know every inch of his body, every pattern of his kisses, every sound he made when he got lost in you. But somehow, he still kissed you like it was the first time, like he was desperate to learn you all over again.

His hands roamed over you, sliding beneath your shirt, pushing it up slowly, his fingers trailing fire in their wake. He pulled away only for a second, just enough to tug the fabric over your head before diving back in, his mouth moving along your neck, over your collarbone.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky, thick with something deeper than lust.

Your breath hitched as his lips dragged lower, down the valley between your breasts, over your stomach, before he came back up, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down in one slow, torturous motion. You whimpered into his mouth when he kissed you again, your hands finding his hair, tugging him closer.

He groaned at that, pushing his hips into yours, letting you feel just how hard he was.

“Need you,” you whispered, almost a plea, and you felt him smirk against your lips.

“You got me, baby,” he murmured.

It wasn’t long before both of you were bare, the heat of his body pressing into yours as he settled between your legs. The weight of him, the way his skin burned against yours—it was overwhelming in the best way. He grabbed your thigh, pulling it higher against his waist, and your fingers tightened around his bicep as he pushed inside you, stretching you inch by inch.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping, your body arching up into his. It was too much, too good, too intense—just like always. And like always, as the pleasure built up, you reached over to the side, your fingers searching for the lamp.

But the second you flipped the switch, plunging the room into darkness, Rafe froze.

A heavy silence filled the air, and then—

“Are you fucking serious?” His voice was low, rough with frustration.

You barely had time to react before he reached over, flipping the light back on. The glow returned, washing over his sharp features, his furrowed brows, the irritated set of his jaw.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as you went to turn it off again, but this time, his hand shot out, catching your wrist.

“No,” he snapped, his grip tightening just enough to make you still. His eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. “You’re not doing this shit again.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “Rafe—”

“You always do this.” His voice was sharp, edged with something that almost sounded like anger. “Every fucking time.”

You looked away, embarrassment creeping up your spine, but he didn’t let you. His fingers curled under your chin, forcing your gaze back to him.

“Stop hiding from me,” he muttered. “I wanna see you.”

You shook your head, your face burning. “It’s embarrassing.”

His jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring. “Embarrassing?” He scoffed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You think I don’t wanna watch you fall apart for me? You think I don’t wanna see every fucking second of it?”

He released your chin, only to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head. His strength was effortless, his hold firm as he leaned in close, his lips ghosting over yours.

“I’ve let you do this too many times,” he murmured darkly. “I’ve let you get away with it.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “Rafe—”

“Not tonight.”

Before you could say anything, he reached for the belt on the nightstand, the one he had discarded earlier, and within seconds, your wrists were tied to the headboard.

Your breath hitched. “Rafe—”

“Now you don’t have a choice,” he muttered, his fingers brushing over your cheek before tilting your chin up. “Now I get to see you the way I want to.”

A shaky exhale left your lips, heat flooding through you at the way he was looking at you—possessive, hungry, determined.

Then he moved again, snapping his hips forward, pushing deeper inside you, and your head fell back against the pillows, a broken moan slipping out before you could stop it.

“That’s what I wanna see,” he rasped, his hand gripping your hip, holding you in place as he set a slow, deep pace. “That’s what you keep hiding from me.”

Your fingers curled against the restraints, your body tightening around him as he moved. Every thrust, every grind of his hips sent sparks shooting through you, and there was no way to hide it now, no way to stop him from seeing the way your mouth fell open, the way your eyes fluttered shut, the way pleasure took over your entire expression.

He groaned at the sight, his head dropping to your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse before he pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze, and the second you did, his rhythm faltered. A growl rumbled in his chest, and he snapped his hips harder, faster, dragging another moan from your lips.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re so pretty like this.”

Heat coiled in your stomach, the pleasure climbing higher, and you knew he could see it all—every twitch, every tremble, every second of you falling apart beneath him.

[eroselless]

UNDERNEATH YOUR CLOTHES

summary => Request: Could you write a one-shot about Charles’ girlfriend wearing one his Ferrari jerseys or like his merch w his name on it and he fucks her with it on? [2.1k]

[charles leclerc x reader]

warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut 

note: I’ve had this request in my inbox for so long and I’ve been absolutely itching to get this out. I’m such a sucker for friends to lovers so I changed it a bit to fit with the idea that I ended up rolling with.

School’s out until July so if anyone has anything they want written, send it in :) Hope you guys enjoy this first Charles request! 

You groan at the sound of urgent knocking at your door. Groggily, you pull yourself from your bed and make your way to the door. You don’t bother switching on the lights, neon signs from outside streaming light through your half-closed blinds, making patterns on the carpeted floor. The digital clock above the stove reads 3.27 am. You peek through the peephole, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Charles, shifting from one foot to the other. You swing the door open, a yawn pulling your jaw open. You squint at him, the light becoming too much for your eyes.

“Charlie, what the fuck?” you question as Charles rubs the back of his neck. His hair is dishevelled and his cheeks are a light shade of pink. 

“I, uh, I lost my keys and my phone while I was out and I can’t get into my apartment,” He explains sheepishly. You sigh, shaking your head in mild irritation. You step aside to let him in.

“You owe me big time for waking me up at this ungodly hour.” You state, trailing behind him after locking the door. He chuckles a soft ‘of course, chérie’ before heading into your room. He makes a beeline for your closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off of his designated shelf. He pulls them on before reaching back and tugging off his shirt. 

“How exactly did you manage to lose both your keys and your phone in one night?" you call from outside, a hint of amusement in your voice. He shakes his head. "Long story," He replies vaguely. 

He makes his way out, switching on a floor lamp by your bed. His eyes are on you as you collapse on the bed with an exasperated sigh. You roll away from him, facing towards the opposite side of the room. You pull the sheet up to your chest, making sure to keep some for him when he tucks himself next to you. His gaze trails over your figure in the dim light, eyes catching the big 16 and Leclerc written across the back of your oversized, overworn t-shirt. He cocks his head to the side, blinking a few times, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Are you sleeping in my race shirt?” He teases, not having noticed it earlier. You turn at the sound of his voice, letting out a sleep mhmm. Your eyes are heavy, threatening to pull you quickly back into a deep sleep. The look you share is charged with something that makes you grow warm. A familiar feeling blooms in your tummy, a feeling not typically felt towards your best friend. He narrows his eyes at you and you can see a fire beginning to build in his cerulean eyes. He stares at your body, probably longer than he should.

You’re the image of a goddess as you lay on your back innocently, hair sprawled around you, almost like a halo. He can’t help but admire the red fabric against your skin or how it clung to every curve of your body. He can see the dark material of your underwear, poking out slightly from under the t-shirt. His eyes settle on the valley between your breasts and how your nipples have pebbled against the cold air. 

A shiver runs through him as he tears his gaze away from you. He rubs at his arms, turning away from you as he does. He clears his throat, setting his watch and wallet on your bedside table.

“Are you cold at all? Do you need another blanket?” 

You mumble a quiet no, reaching a hand across the bed. He watches as you make a grabby motion with your hand, beckoning into bed. He hesitates for a moment, suddenly self-conscious of what he is wearing, or rather, lack thereof. His pants are hung low on his hips and his shirt lays on the floor by your dresser. He bites his lip as he slips in next to you. His eyes widen slightly as you grab his arm, pulling him into you. It’s not like this was an odd occurrence, having years of comfort between each other. But his mind always seemed to wander, wondering how you’d feel without the barrier of clothes between you. He adored how you proudly wore HIS name in support during races. Here, the red fabric of your shirt contrasts with the white of your sheets, it feels so much more intimate. He couldn’t get the image of how good you looked with your back to him, his name sitting between your shoulder blades. 

You can feel him tense up as you settle under him, his head lying on your chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the goosebumps blooming across your skin as the cold air drifts through the sheets. He has to stop himself from letting his hands (and his mouth) wander over the fabric of the shirt. 

It seems to him like you’re drifting back into sleep as he lays wide awake. He feels your hands wander over the large expanse of his back, your touch sending goosebumps down his spine. Your fingers take their time feeling over every mole and scar littered over his skin. You knead his thick muscles, a rumble escaping Charles’s lips as you dip your fingers in every dip and hill. His breath is hot on your skin as he shoves his head in the crook of your neck. 

Your eyes don’t feel as heavy when your hands find their way closer to the waistband of his pants. They settle there for a moment before you decide to slip a finger under it, pulling at it and releasing it. It snaps against his skin, a yelp escaping him. 

He lets out a laugh, quick fingers poking at your side. You thrash under him, howls of laughter bouncing off the walls. He blows raspberries into the thin skin of your neck, only causing you to squirm further. 

The energy slips from the room as you both stop to catch your breath. He’s suspended over you, supporting himself with his arms on either side of your head. The fire you’d seen earlier burns in his eyes as he looks down at you. It burns at the line you’re both afraid to step over, knowing full well that if it burns it away completely, there’ll be no going back. His eyes are locked on yours. They’re dark, their usual blue now as dark as a storming sea. Your eyes trace over the curve of his cupid’s bow and flicker up to his eyes once again. 

The warmth in your lower belly returns as he leans down and presses a tantalizingly slow kiss on your jaw. His hand cups the back of your thighs and you're suddenly hyperaware of the thin and increasingly wet fabric of your underwear. You let out a quick breath as he drags his lips over the column of your neck. The hand that isn’t supporting him slides up your body and under your shirt, gently grazing at your ribcage. You slip a hand away from his body, meeting his under your t-shirt. Sliding it higher, you bring his hand up to your breast. His fingers pinch teasingly at your puffed-up nipples, pulling a whine from your lips. 

“Charles…” you moan out, eyes opening and meeting his as he pulls away. Your eyes meet, the room going quiet again. 

In an instant, his mouth is on yours, tongue swirling with yours. You can taste hints of tequila on his tongue, no doubt the reason why he lost his keys and phone. He moves to sit on his heels and you follow his lips, already intoxicated with them. 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you snugly onto his lap as he settles at the head of the bed. The bulge in his pants is pressed deliciously against your crotch. You let out a gasp as he grips tight onto your hips, moving you over his hard-on. 

“You look so pretty in Ferrari red,” he murmurs, teeth nipping lightly at your neck. The pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline. A smile tugs softly at your lips. 

He hesitates as his fingers drop to the waistband of your underwear. He fiddles slightly with the fabric, mimicking what you had done earlier and snapping it gently over your skin. You felt a gasp get pulled from your chest as his hands began to move under the fabric, pressing into the bundle of nerves at your very center. Your voice comes out in broken fragments:

”Charlie, please…” you beg.

You don’t quite know what you're asking for. For so long, you’d unconsciously ached for him. Your own fingers would find their way into your underwear and with your eyes squeezed shut, you’d try to imagine that they were his. His touch now feels almost overwhelming. You crave the weight of his body pressing you down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your most sensitive parts —

“Fuck,” he cries out, hips bucking up into yours. He squeezes at your breast, biting at your nipple over the fabric. You go to pull the shirt off, needing to feel his lips on your skin when he stops you, eyes hazy and glazed over with lust.

“No,” he says shaking his head. “Leave it on.” his fingers now travel downwards, pressing at your clit through your wet panties. You take in a sharp breath, head falling back. He circles it, thumb and pointer finger pinching at it slightly. 

“Need more,” you slur. He meets your gaze, a soft pink adorning his cheeks.

“Need my cock, mon coeur?” You nod instantly. You go up on your knees, giving him the chance to pull his sweatpants just enough to free his cock. It taps gently at your stomach, precum already beading at its tip. You draw your finger over its slit, a thin sting appearing as you pull away. Charles lets out a groan under you, eyes swimming with desire.

You climb off quickly, pulling off your panties and dropping them to the floor. Charles can’t take his eyes off of you as you swing a leg over his lap, his hands going to take hold of your thighs. His eyes float to where your grab him and bottom out on his cock. The squeeze you give him is so much better than he had anticipated. His mouth falls open as you take him in fully, he can’t believe he’s gone this long without ever feeling you all around him. You grind your hips against his, setting a rhythm. 

“t’es une si bonne fille, tu me prends tout entier,” he groans. such a good girl, taking all of me. His hands feel like they have nowhere to go but to the globes of your tits as they bounce deliciously in front of him. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, twisting it and pulling it up. Your tits burst out from under the fabric, nipples pebbling at the cold breeze in the air. He wraps his lips around them, teeth teasing them gently. Your back arches at the feeling, only pressing them further into his face. He was hooked how the fabric of the shirt ripples over your chest and the taste of your skin on his tongue.

“P-putain..” he whimpers, coming up for air. He lets out grunt as he plants his feet on the bed, lifting his hips fucking into you with force. Your lips part as the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates through the room. His hands go to your ass, fingers digging into the suple flesh as he rocks you against him. Your hands take refuge on his chest, gasping as he hits your sweet spot. You feel so full with him as he continues to move at a steady pace. 

He brings his lips up to yours, groaning softly against your panting lips. It only spurrs you further, circling your hips to meet his as he continued to rutting his hips up into you. You can feel your orgasm nearing, a wave of pleasure coming over you. It envelops you, suffocating you as it crashes down. 

Charles can’t hold it any longer, lifting you off of him as strings of cum spill from his cock, coating his stomach. You sit on his thighs, just beyond the reach of the spurts. He looks incredible, cheeks red, lips swollen, chest heaving. You feel like you’re under a spell as you drag a finger through the warm cum on his stomach and tuck it between your lips. His eyes seem to sparkle, a new flame appearing suddenly in them.

“Can we go again?” his voice cuts through the suddenly silence in the room. With an innocent meeting of eyes, there is only one response that can escape you lips. There’s a grin playing on your lips, finger still caught between your teeth. An astounding answer echoes through the room with no words spoken, it has the two of you tossing around the sheets until the sun comes up. You’re gonna have to wear his name more often.