#ITS ALL IN MY HEAD BUT SHES TOUCHING HIS CHEST NOW

[uhbambii]

Soup Days

The lighthouse was quieter than usual, its warmth a stark contrast to the damp chill that had seeped into their bones during their trek through the Hossberg Wetlands. Rook sat bundled on the couch by the aquarium, her cheeks flushed—not from her usual sharp-edged confidence, but from the fever that had crept up on her after hours of trudging through muck and freezing rain. She sniffled miserably, rubbing at her sore throat, and glared half-heartedly at the bowl of soup Lucanis Dellamorte had just placed in front of her.

“I didn’t trek through miles of swamp just to be defeated by a cold,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice gravelly.

Lucanis, standing beside her with arms crossed, raised a sardonic brow. His dark eyes gleamed with humor as he crouched to her level. “Mia cara, it’s not a cold. It’s a warning from the Maker Himself to let me cook for you more often.” He gestured to the bowl. “Italian penicillin. Eat, and you’ll survive to see another day. Maybe even two.”

Rook huffed, her lips twitching into a small smile despite herself. Lucanis was impossible to argue with, especially when his quick wit came wrapped in that rich, sonorous voice. His dark hair fell loose around his face. It softened his sharp features in a way that made Rook’s heart stutter, even in her current, pathetic state.

She picked up the spoon reluctantly and tasted the soup. The warmth flooded her chest immediately, soothing the ache in her throat. Garlic, lemon, and just the right amount of spice.

“It’s good,” she admitted, her tone begrudging.

Lucanis grinned, leaning back on his heels like a smug cat. “Of course it’s good. Amore mio, when have I ever done anything that wasn’t perfect?”

Rook snorted, wincing as the effort aggravated her throat. “Let me count the ways—”

Before she could finish, Lucanis reached out and placed a hand on her forehead, his touch gentle. His fingers were calloused from a life of fighting and command, but now they were soft against her fevered skin. He frowned, the teasing momentarily replaced by a flicker of genuine concern.

“You’re still too warm,” he said quietly. Then his smirk returned, though it was softer this time. “And all this because you couldn’t let me take the lead for once. Really, tesoro, you’ve faced down ogres without so much as a scratch, and here you are, bedridden from a little weather.”

Rook tried to glare, but it lacked any real venom. “If you’re just going to mock me, you can take your soup back.”

“Oh, no, no, no. The soup stays. As does my company.” Lucanis moved to sit beside her, draping an arm over the back of the couch. His warmth was an instant comfort, even more effective than the blanket Rook had wrapped herself in.

Rook shifted, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Sempre,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She sighed, contentment settling over her despite her earlier complaints. The fever and soreness faded into the background as Lucanis started recounting an exaggerated tale of how he once sweet-talked an Orlesian merchant into selling him an entire crate of imported wine for half the price. His voice, rich with humor and charm, was better medicine than anything else.

As the evening stretched on, the lighthouse grew even quieter, the world beyond its walls fading into the hush of the fade. Lucanis’s fingers absently traced soothing patterns along her arm as she began to drift off, her head still nestled against his shoulder.

Just before sleep claimed her, she heard him murmur, so soft it almost seemed like a dream: “Ti amo, mia luce. Rest now.”

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Okayyy, yall are eating up the Lucanis Fluff!!

same tho

[pricesprettyprincesss]

There’s a thing I wrote about Simon… I hope you like it…

MDNI - suggestive content

“Boys Night”

Simon decided to host a boys' night at his place, inviting his friends Johnny and Gaz over for drinks and video games, reminiscent of their younger days. As they lounged on the couch the next morning, Johnny couldn't resist making jokes about the previous night's antics.

“Give it to me, Simon, that’s what she kept screaming!” Johnny laughed, his voice filled with mock enthusiasm.

“Give it—give it to me, Simon!” Gaz chimed in, throwing his head back against Johnny's shoulder, the laughter contagious.

But Simon remained unamused, his expression resembling that of a disgruntled cat forced to endure the antics of its human companions. Despite the jovial atmosphere, there was an underlying tension in the air, as if Simon's patience was wearing thin.

I was walking from our bedroom to the kitchen to retrieve a snack for myself when I heard Johnny’s comment. I saunter over to the living room, to grace my fiancé with my presence. “Actually Johnny, I said give it to me harder daddy” I smirk as I lean over to kiss Simon’s masked face, my elaborate diamond glittering on my hand as I place it on Simon’s chest to steady myself.

Simon's mood seemed to light up a bit as he saw me approaching. Once I was close enough he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me onto his lap, peppering my neck and cheeks with affectionate mask covered kisses.“You’re an ass, Johnny,” Simon chuckled. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have some business to attend to,” he grinned cheekily, earning a laugh from Gaz, but a groan from Johnny.

The guys said goodbye leaving Simon and I sitting on the couch.. “Did you have a fun night with the boys?” I ask Simon looking around at the disheveled state of my living room. A smile tugged at the corners of Simon's covered mouth as he looked around the living room, his eyes wandering to the empty beer bottles, controllers, and other debris.

“It was enjoyable, albeit rowdy,” he chuckled, reaching forward to intertwine his fingers with my own. “But now I have you all to myself,” he added with a hint of possessiveness, his masked lips finding their way to the crook of my neck. “You sir are forever the charmer” I let out breathlessly. "You're my favorite target for a reason," he cooed, his voice low and husky. His calloused hands brushed along the bare skin of my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

“I don’t think the living room will look as good as it should,” he mused, his gaze flickering over to the disarray surrounding us. Still, his focus quickly returned to me, the warmth of his breath dancing against my skin.“I will clean up whatever mess you boys have made, but I’ll do that in the morning… I want to entertain whatever you’re concocting up in that handsome head of yours.”

An eyebrow arched beneath his mask at my reply, a smirk slowly spreading across his mouth. “Whatever I want, huh?” he purred in response, his fingers dancing along my body in a tantalizing dance. Slowly, ever so slowly, his hand found its way to my chin, gently lifting it to meet his eyes.“Be careful what you wish for, love."

I smirk, “I know you’ll take care of me… I trust every single thought you come up with, no matter how incredibly dirty they can be” I kiss in between his eyebrows, where the smallest bit of skin he has showing from under his balaclava.

"Oh, and I don't think you can handle the filth in my mind,” he whispered, his breath sending chills down my spine. The desire in his eyes intensified, as his hands began to wander over my body, slowly yet firmly pulling me even closer, his touch igniting a fire within me.

“You're in for a world of trouble,” he murmured huskily as he lifted his mask just above his nose, his parted lips grazing my skin. “That’s my favorite world when I’m with you” I lean in and grabbing his chin to hold his face in place while I tenderly kiss his lips.

He reciprocated my kiss with a passion that could set fire to the living room, his fingers digging into my sides with a fervor that told me he had been holding back his desires. There was an edge to his touch, a feral hunger in the way his mouth moved against mine, his tongue eagerly exploring the newfound space. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with need.

“Mmmm is that so… I thought I was your angel” I coo and kiss him again. A brief laugh escaped from him, a sound that was both amused and aroused by my response. His teeth found their way to my neck, nipping and licking my skin with a need that made my spine tingle.

“My angel… my temptress,” he whispered between bites before sucking a small mark into my flesh, his fingers gripping my hips tightly. “My savior…. My sinner” I coo, tangling my fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers sure to leave imprints of his desire, his touch turning almost possessive. He trailed a line of kisses along my jawline until he reached my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin at the base of my earlobe.

“Your demon,” he murmured hotly, his voice low and heavy with need. His stubble brushed against my skin, the sensation sending sparks racing down my spine. “my demon” I purr softly into his ear. His fingers dug into my flesh even harder, his breathing growing more ragged as his hunger intensified. I could feel the heat radiating off him as his mouth found its way to mine, his kiss needy and demanding.

He lifted me with ease, his arm circling around my frame to pull me flush against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the bedroom. His hands were everywhere, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “You know… demon….. I love seeing you hang out with your friends… makes me want you more than I already do” I kiss his chin.

His hands gripped my thighs tightly, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. He walked us over to the bed, and with a swift move, he tossed me down onto the sheets, the impact making me bounce as I landed. He leaned over me, his arms caging me in, his body shadowing mine as he held himself above me, his eyes dark with intention. "Are you telling me I should hang out with them more often?"

“Only if I can cook the dinners…” I smirk. I know he loves when I cook him food and especially for his friends. He flashed a roguish grin, clearly amused by the suggestion. "Your cooking does sound tempting," he murmured, his fingers grazing over my stomach. He leaned down, his mouth hovering over the sensitive skin of my neck, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Perhaps I could invite them over for more evenings, under the condition that you cook for us all." He took a moment to playfully nibble on my skin, his teeth grazing lightly. “As long as when you eat you save room for me as your desert”

A low chuckle rumbled through him, the sound of it thick with desire. "Ah, so I'm only good for a nighttime snack, eh?" he murmured against my skin, his voice holding a hint of teasing. His mask was bunched up around his mouth now, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his parted lips and the heat in his eyes. “Mmmmmm… all the time….” I correct him.

His teeth found my earlobe, nipping at it softly before releasing it with a flick of his tongue. The heat in his eyes flared, his gaze roaming hungrily over my body. “And I must say you are a tasty delicacy that I can never get enough of,” he murmured hotly in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. His hands were everywhere, touching and exploring, as he claimed my mouth in a searing kiss.

My fingers found their way back to his shaggy hair on the nape of his neck.. “Sii… baby…” I whimper. His fingers traced a path down my body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His mouth followed suit, planting tender kisses down my neck and chest. "You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured hotly against my skin, his voice thick with need. Slowly, but surely, he continued showering me with kisses lower and lower. “Is.. that.. so..?” I ask breathlessly as he continues to trail kisses down to my belly.

As he reached my exposed belly, he let out a low groan, his hands finding purchase on my hips to keep me steady. His lips peppered along my abdomen, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “You drive me insane,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with hunger. “Can’t get enough of you.” Slowly, he kissed his way lower toward where I needed him most. “Then take all you want my love” I hold onto his hair as if my life depended on it. His fingers slipped past the waistband of my pants, tugging them lower until he could push them all the way down. He paused for a brief moment, his breathing ragged as he took in my disheveled form.

“Just be careful what you wish for,” he warned huskily before he buried his face in my most sensitive area, his mouth worshipping my body. I couldn’t form coherent words, I’d be lying if I said I responded to Simon in anything but moans and whimpers. He took his time with me, lavishing me with his mouth, his tongue flicking and swirling as he brought me closer and closer. He was relentless in his fervor, spurred onward by each moan and gasp. He knew his way around my body so well, every spot he touched set my skin ablaze.

“Simon….Jesus……I’m……gonna���.ohhhhhhh” I cry out. He chuckled against me, his fingers digging into my thighs as I shattered beneath his touch. The heat of his breath sent shivers down my spine as he drew his head back, his eyes dark and sparkling with desire. “Did you really think I’d let you off that easy?” he murmured lustfully, his tongue flicking out again to sample me. “I…kno-know…you… w-won’t” I shudder as my body shakes a little with the after effects he’s having on me.

He watched me with a self-satisfied smirk, clearly enjoying the way my body responded to him. He didn’t wait for me to recover, his fingers tracing patterns along my thighs and stomach. “Such a perfect little thing you are,” he crooned, his voice filled with a possessiveness that only fueled my desire even more. “I’m going to take care of you, darling.”

“Mmmmm” I purr happily as he’s reduced me to a mush. “Sii… you’re soo good at that… I will never get tired of your tongue” I add to my purrs as he comes back up to eye level… I kiss him, my tongue lingering and dancing with his.

His hands tangled in my hair, holding my head steady as he reciprocated my kisses with his own heated fervor. "And you taste sinful," he murmured hotly against my lips, his voice thick with need. "I can never get enough of your taste, darling." His hands roamed over my body, claiming me all over again. “I guess it’s a good thing we are getting married then… isn’t it?” I ask peppering his cheeks with kisses. He let out a low chuckle, his heart swelling with love under my affection. His hand found its way to my chin, tilting my head back so my eyes met his swirling ones.

“A very good thing,” he murmured affectionately, his thumb brushing over my lips. “I wouldn’t want to risk letting you find someone who doesn’t kiss that sinful taste off your lips." His fingers traced a path down my body, his touch lingering on my skin. “My perfect demon… taking all his angel’s sin…. Mmmmmmm…” I murmur before pulling his lips back onto mine for slow, deep kisses. He pulled me against him, his body molding to mine flawlessly, as he parted my lips with his tongue.

His fingers still tangled in my hair, holding my head steady as he kissed me deeply, his tongue seeking its way into my mouth. There was a need in his touch, a passion that made my body shiver with desire. I willingly let him devour me from within, submitting fully to his sinful ministrations.

His lips are gentle against mine, but there’s an urgency behind them. I gently remove the rest of his balaclava from his face… “I wanted better access to your hair” I giggle against his lips as he grumbles a “what was that for” in protest. He allowed me to remove his mask, his expression softening when he noticed my desire for access to his hair.

"It's only fair that I get equal access to your hair too," he murmured affectionately, his hands finding their way to my hair. He gently grasped a handful of the red strands, his fingers teasing the locks playfully. "Besides... I need to make sure it's always in perfect condition for me to play with." He flashed a roguish grin, his eyes glinting mischievously. “That’s why I keep my hair long for you my love” I scrunch my nose. A low chuckle rumbled through him as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against my own. He gently kissed the tip of my nose, his fingers tugging lightly on my hair. “And you know I love how playful the red locks can look when you have them down. It’s like a visual representation of your fiery spirit,” he murmured affectionately, his eyes tracing over my features. “You’re perfect for me, in every way.”

“And you’re perfect for me in every way Simon” I reassure him and I lean to kiss his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at the feel of my lips pressing against his cheek, a content sigh escaping his lips. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer as he nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck. “I’m a lucky man,” he murmured affectionately, his breath ghosting over my skin. “My beautiful angel...all mine.”

“And I’m a very lucky woman… my handsome devil” I coo. His teeth latched onto my shoulder, biting gently before releasing the flesh from his grip. He trailed kisses up to my earlobe, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

”My delicious little sinner,” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and sensual. His hands glided down my body, claiming me as his own. ”The most perfect being in the entire world."

“Mmmmmm” I melt at his touch, malleable for him to bend at his will. He continued to shower me with kisses and bites, leaving his mark on my skin as if to prove I was all his. When he leaned away to look at me, his eyes were filled with a desire that was almost sinful. “Such a beautiful sight,” he whispered hotly, his eyes roving over my body with a possessive hunger. His touch continued to play over my skin, his fingers dancing over my flesh, stirring my desire. I smirk at his compliment… reaching my hand up to caress his stubble covered cheek. “I love your stubble darling..” I giggle gently. He let out a chuckle, turning his face into my hand. He nuzzled his nose against my palm, his stubble rubbing against my skin.

“And I love how it makes you writhe when I nuzzle my face against your sensitive spots,” he teased, his voice low and seductive. He caught my wrist, gently pinning it down as he nibbled on the skin. “Me too…” I purr looking up at him through my eyelashes. His eyes never left mine, a wicked gleam in them as he slowly, but surely, crawled over me. He pinned me onto the bed, his body hovering over mine, a smirk tugging at his lips. "And I love how my stubble makes you gasp as I trail my mouth down your body."

“Mmmm” my eyes close at the thought… this man is a dream come true, insatiably obsessed with me… He dipped his head low, his mouth finding my sensitive skin as he left a trail of kisses along my neck. His teeth found purchase on the hollow of my collarbone, nibbling and suckling on the skin as he continued his path down my body.

"And how you shudder and shake when you feel my stubble tickling along your skin." His voice was a low, sultry rasp as he continued to mark a trail down my exposed flesh.“You….. Simon…… my darliing…..” I whimper with my hands holding his hair. A low, possessive growl escaped his lips when my fingers tangled in his hair. His tongue flicked over the sensitive marks he left in his wake, his fingers tracing circles over my inner thighs. “And how you arch your back and call my name in that sweet, sultry voice…” he murmured hotly in my ear, nipping at my earlobe. “Like this?” I ask innocently as I arch my back, pushing my chest and torso into his chest as he hovered his body over mine. And I lowered my gaze to his chest then I looked back into his eyes, “*Siiiiimooooonnn” I whimper out in a sweet and smooth voice.

He let out another low groan, a possessive hunger shining in his eyes as my body pressed into his. His hands found their way to my thighs, holding onto them with a grip that would surely leave behind marks of their own. "That's it, darling….I will never get tired of hearing you say my name like that." he growled lowly against my skin as he nipped at the sensitive flesh beneath my chin.

“I’ll never…. Get tired…. Of saying your……. Name” I say through bated breath. He claimed my mouth, his tongue slipping past my parted lips as he deepened the kiss into something more possessive. His mouth trailed down to my neck, his stubble rubbing against my sensitive flesh. "My perfect, sinful, seductive little angel…" he whispered heatedly against my skin, his teeth nipping gently at my collarbone.

I smile as he returns his lips to mine for a brief moment. “My sweetheart, protector, possessive demon and my doting lover” I whisper back to him. His eyes locked with mine, filled with a burning passion that set my skin aflame. He leaned down, his mouth hovering over my ear as he whispered, his voice thick with need and love mixed. “You have no idea how much I want you right now…” he murmured hotly, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. His stubble tickled the skin by my ear as he moved to press kisses along my jawline.

“I have a sort of an idea of how much you want me” I whisper and I reach down to his waist. He let out a sharp gasp as soon as my fingers found his waist. His grip around my thighs tightened for a brief moment, his body tensing at my touch. A hungry rumble escaped his lips, his hands grasping my hips firmly, his fingers digging into the skin as he held me in place.

“Careful what you wish for, darling…” he chuckled lowly in my ear as he nibbled on my earlobe. I unbutton his pants, leaving the zipper up. “I’m wishing for it….. make my wish come true?” I coo.

A low groan escaped him as my hands began unbuttoning his pants, his body quivering with anticipation. His thumb traced circles over my skin as he leaned down, his mouth finding my neck, his teeth grazing over my pulse.“Oh, darling…You’re making it extremely hard for me to hold back,” he said with a low, warning growl.“I don’t want you to hold back Sii.. I want you to ravish me” I say with a voice mixed with pleasure and pleading.

His breathing was ragged, his eyes darkened with a passion that was bordering on feral. A low, possessive growl escaped him as he pressed his body down into mine, pinning me underneath him.

"You don’t have to ask me twice," he murmured hotly in my ear, his teeth tugging on my earlobe. His mouth claimed mine in a heated, possessive kiss.

[mystra-midnight]

Rock You Like A Hurricane

summary: he was the one who held the reins to your pleasure, who could send you shattering into ecstasy with little more than a look, a touch, a whispered command.

warnings: 18+ only. oral: (male receiving). deep throating. face fucking. choking/gagging. slight praise kink. king steve is its own warning.

words: 1.2k.

notes: there is a line in the song 'rock you like a hurricane' by the scorpions that inspired this. so you can thank them. fyi, the line is 'The bitch is hungry; she needs to tell. so give her inches and feed her well'. i'm not sorry is any capacity and to my steve girlies, you're welcome. <3

Steven Joseph Harrington had a reputation — a loud, larger-than-life reputation that followed him wherever he went. And good god, did he live up to it. Every day, you’d hear the whispers, the rumours swirling through the halls and parties, painting him in hues of royalty.

King Steve, they called him, a title that seemed as much about his demeanour as it was about his wealth. You’d always assumed it was because he was filthy rich, not just comfortable but downright dripping with privilege. But that wasn’t why women flocked to him.

He was blessed in other ways, and it wasn’t until you found yourself alone with him at some party in the middle of nowhere that you fully understood. Steve had been gifted with the prettiest cock you’d ever seen, and he knew exactly what to do with it.

“You gonna take it all tonight?” he groaned from above, his voice rough and dripping with arrogance. He didn’t need an answer — he already knew it. At that moment, Steve wasn’t just a king; he was a god among mortals, and you couldn’t help but worship him.

He had you splayed on the bed instead of at his feet, where you often kneeled, a supplicant who worshipped at the altar of his body. Now, with your head tipped back over the edge, he had complete control, free to take what he wanted. His cock stretched your lips wide as he moved lazily, savouring the wet heat of your mouth. Each thrust was deliberate, demanding more from you — spit dribbling from your swollen lips, trailing down your chin in messy streaks.

Steve’s fingers twisted into your hair, his grip firm, holding you in place. His thumb brushed against your cheek, the touch soft, almost reverent, contradicting how he filled your throat. His pace remained slow, letting you feel every inch of him, the weight of him pressing down your throat, the way he stole your breath in a way that left you deliciously dizzy.

"Look at you," he said, smirking. "Taking me so well." His eyes, dark and hungry, watched yours, admiring the way they fluttered as you fought to keep up with his quickening pace. He groaned as your throat tightened around him, the soft, wet sounds fueling his desire with every deep thrust. The praise sent a shiver through you, warmth pooling low in your stomach, tightening with each roll of his hips.

You swallowed around him, sucking in a breath of air while you could, the movement drawing a low groan from his throat, deepening his own pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you could feel his tension, the way he was still holding back. At the same time, he savoured the sight of you under him, vulnerable yet utterly willing.

Steve pulled out, and your chest heaved as you gasped for air, lips swollen, makeup smeared in a way that left you feeling like some masterpiece in his eyes. He leaned down to brush his thumb across your plump lower lip before bringing it to his own, tasting the wetness left on you. “You're perfect like this.”

He stroked your cheek again, his thumb gently wiping away a smudge of mascara, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch, the warmth inside you blooming, an unmistakable ache. But he wasn't ready to soothe you, not yet. With a sudden, rough snap of his hips, he drove himself deep, pulling a strangled gag from your throat as his cock pierced through your lips, stretching you open and claiming you again.

Steve delighted in your surrender to him, your willingness to take everything he had to give — even if it pushed you to your limits. He slowed just enough to let you catch your breath, his gaze heavy-lidded and dark with possession. “You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, almost reverent. “Messy, all mine. You know that, don’t you? That you’re mine?”

It was another rhetorical question he didn’t need answered. His grip on your hair loosened, and he caressed his fingers along your scalp, soothing the sting left in his wake, a comforting gesture that contrasted with the possessiveness in his voice. It was a claim he’d never voiced until now, but it lingered in his every touch and look, and word he’d whisper into your skin when you were laid bare for him.

You managed a small nod, his cock resting heavy against your tongue, the tang of pre-cum coating your palate. His hands cradled your face, guiding you as his pace quickened. He thrust deep, savouring every sensation, every sound you made. Your lips were swollen and glistening with spit and arousal — a vision of loveliness.

His hips snapped forward; each thrust deeper than the last as if he was testing you, pushing your limit bit by bit. It wasn’t hurried or careless — no, every movement was deliberate, a silent dare for you to hold on, to prove just how much of him you could take.

You felt the stretch of him, the pressure building until, finally, he buried himself fully within your throat. The head of his cock pressed deep, his girth filling you completely, and you could feel the warm, heavy weight of his balls resting against your face.

His breath hitched, and a low, guttural sound escaped his throat. Though Steve didn't speak, you could feel the unmistakable pride radiating from him. You were proud of yourself, too. His hands tightened on either side of your head as though he needed to be grounded against the surge of pleasure that coursed through him.

The room was now filled with the soft, obscene sounds of your shared pleasure — your muffled gasps, the wet glide of your tongue against his shaft, and his low groans as he held himself still, relishing the sensation of your throat stretched tight around him. He lingered there, basking in the feeling, letting you adjust.

Your body arched instinctively, the ache deep inside you flaring hotter, and he noticed; of course, he did. Steve trailed his hand gently along your shoulder, his touch lingering as he cupped the curve of your breast. His fingers teased, rolling your nipple between them with a firm, deliberate pinch.

It was a reminder of his control and how he could push you right to the edge and pull you back with one touch. He was the one who held the reins to your pleasure, who could send you shattering into ecstasy with little more than a look, a touch, a whispered command.

He withdrew briefly, leaving only the tip of his cock between your plump lips, before driving forward again, hard and unrelenting, admiring the choked sounds you made and the way your throat clenched around him. Your nails bit into his thighs as you steadied yourself. Steve used you with an almost primal instinct, taking his pleasure without restraint, your face slick with spit that clung to your lashes and dampened your hair. 

“Just like that,” he murmured, voice husky, thick with pleasure. “Just keep taking me. That’s my good girl.” And you knew in that moment why they called him King — because he made you feel like royalty, too, even as he undid you.

[obwjam]

a small surprise part 4 (gravity falls g/t)

back with a new chapter!! parts 1 • 2 • 3

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The fist came down at an alarming speed, like it had materialized out of thin air. Jay was thrown backwards, and her head instantly smacked against the table, causing stars to pop in and out of her vision. The only thing she could hear was a faint, dull static, like her brain was a television that wasn’t getting a signal. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would break through her chest. She didn’t have the strength to push herself to her feet. All of her limbs felt like they were paralyzed.

“Shit!” Stan yelled. Oh, he instantly regretted it. He didn’t even realize what was happening until his fist had already connected with the table. His subconscious must have saved him from actually touching her, but he got pretty damn close. He blinked, blinked again, and fully realized he almost just killed somebody. 

Again.

“Oh, god, kid, are you alright?” He bent down, putting himself at eye level with the writhing tiny. “Kid? I’m sorry, I didn’t — I wasn’t tryin’ to hurt you, I just — got carried away, that’s all!” She wasn’t responding, so he began to reach his hand out toward her, ready to nudge her back to reality. 

“DON’T!” she screamed, louder than anything he’d ever heard before. She managed to scramble farther away from him. “PLEASE! I–I’M SORRY – I WON’T – P-PLEASE! Don’t…”

Stan’s expression shifted. He knew what this was. She was begging for her life. Something had switched inside of her. Something Stan was not expecting. His hands were shaking, and he was unsure what to do with them. He hovered awkwardly, watching, before realizing that he suddenly felt grossly uncomfortable looming over her. The sheer force of his fist caused her to fall over. She was barely as tall as it. Stan could pinch her between his fingers and never feel the weight. She was miniscule. How was any of this real?

Jay was too busy rolling in pain to notice, but Stan sat in total silence for 10 minutes, his mind racing to figure out what to do next. Maybe Poindexter has some kind of cheat sheet on her somewhere. Maybe all those secret codes were about her and he didn’t want her to read them. How does she even read, anyway? The letters must look huge. Focus, Stan, focus. Maybe she needs some water? But I don't want to move right now. I could just ask her. But I don’t want to talk again. My voice might shatter her eardrums.

Eventually, Jay came to. She had shut her eyes tight for a while, hoping the pain would melt away on its own. Soon enough, it did, but even with her senses thrown off, the feeling of being loomed over was incredibly persistent. She didn’t want to see Stan, so gigantic and destructive, towering over her after he just tried to murder her. And she certainly didn’t want to hear his smarmy jokes about her begging for her life – the embarrassment of that was beginning to hit her hard. How could she even be in the same room as him ever again, knowing she had become the helpless, controllable little thing he so clearly saw her as?

Stan, trying to stay patient and silent, was only increasing Jay’s anxiety more. Why was he just… sitting still? She dared to take a peek and only saw Stan’s massive elbows pressing on the tabletop, his torso so big it looked more like an endless wall. She wasn’t prepared to hear him speak.

“Look, kid, I–”

But he stopped as soon as her eyes met his. The shock of her expression sucked all the air from his lungs. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes burning from tears. She was staring at him in horror, like he was some kind of – some kind of monster. Someone who acts so callously toward other people’s feelings and needs. A killer. Now’s not the time for this! But Stan’s mind wouldn’t let him rest. Not even as his hand twitched in his lap, unable to stay still. He jumped when she jumped; he had no idea how she was able to pick up on that movement. Disoriented and filled with anxiety, Jay slowly scrambled backwards until she found a stack of books to dive behind for cover. Stan just watched. There was nothing he could do.

Jay pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. Not being able to see Stan’s movements was probably a bad thing, but she couldn’t bear to be in his line of sight right now. She hadn’t cowered like this since first meeting Ford, and it all felt so eerily similar. Stan was just like Ford in as many ways as they differed – even if they didn’t share a face, she would be able to suss out their relation to each other. They both had this air of unpredictability and superiority, and Jay was now twice caught in the crosshairs. She had to get her hook. She had to get out of here. She had to…

Stan felt sick, just as he did in this very basement a week ago. It had been so long since he actually interacted with people, and he found that a lot of his survival instincts he prided himself on were not transferable to the real world; or even to tiny little people in the real world. Why did he think he needed to use violence to assert himself over someone as tall as a golf pencil? Why did she react so scared this time? Probably because you almost killed her. But nobody ever took him seriously. Why did she have to be different?

Stan sucked in a breath. Quit it, Stan. You can’t be doing this. But if he kept sitting there and staring at the books, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Fine. Then go work on the portal. Go be useful for once in your life.

It took Jay a while to notice he had left. She was too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking, and it took everything in her not to black out again from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. The sound of her own hyperventilating snapped her back to reality. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t even have any thoughts going through her head. It was completely, totally silent. She wasn’t even sure she could remember what words to use. But she eventually noticed that the vibe in the room had shifted considerably. The silence had become eerie, and the suffocating feeling was largely gone, replaced by an anxious panic. She hoped her senses weren’t betraying her, but a quick, subtle peek around the books confirmed that Stan was no longer sitting at the table, waiting for her to come out. She couldn’t see through the window, but a lot of clanging and a lot of cursing confirmed Stan had gone to work in the portal room.

Jay took the opportunity to finally stand up. She needed to grip the spine of the books to pull herself up because her legs were completely drained of energy. In a moment of panic, she thought she was maybe paralyzed from the incident, but she was able to take a few shaky steps. She blinked as her brain oriented itself, her eyes stinging, her world still turning. She didn’t quite understand why Stan had left the room, but she didn’t care. The only thing her brain had the capacity for right now was escape.

She stumbled over to her hooks, which were still woefully incomplete. Fuck it, she thought, wiping the sweat off her hands, I’ll just slide down the table leg – link these together, she managed to hook one piece of bent metal around the other with her trembling hands, then use this, she picked up, dropped, and picked up again what she had tied together for rope, and I’ll just wrap it around myself, and I can – I can – I just need –

Jay tried her best to assemble something that could get her safely down from the metal table, but she was trembling so hard that she could barely keep the hooks from slipping from her grip. And the more time she took, the more she panicked, and the more mistakes she made. The risk from falling from such a great height couldn’t be any worse than seeing Stan again. She had to hurry, quick, before he—

The stinging sound of scraping metal made Jay freeze so fast she could feel her blood turn cold. She was too numb to turn around, but having her back to him was even more terrifying. She slowly turned around, gripping her hooks so tight she thought she’d crush them.

Stan gaped back, eyes wide. It felt like he glitched temporarily before getting his ability to speak back. “Oh. You’re still here.”

She shrunk back, whimpering a bit and putting her hands in front of her chest in a protective position, tightening her white-knuckle grip on the hooks. She didn’t dare move an inch.

To her surprise, Stan, very slowly, lifted his hands up placatingly. “Don’t worry,” was all he managed to say in a scratchy, hoarse voice that barely sounded like his.

Jay couldn’t budge even if she wanted to. She was frozen.

“Oh. I see. The, uh, metal things,” Stan said clumsily, nudging his head at her hooks. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I’d want to get out of my sight if I were you, too.”

Jay knitted her eyebrows. This was not the tone of voice she expected from him.

“Look, I didn’t – I didn’t mean to – I’m – I’m sorry, Jay,” he stumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Her heart skipped a beat when he actually said her name. “You probably won’t forgive me, and that’s alright, I don’t deserve it. It’s just – my life hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. I don’t always… handle things the best,” he said, sounding profoundly embarrassed at admitting such a thing. “Never have, and I guess I never will. I’m just the Pines family screw-up.”

Jay arched an eyebrow. Her mind was telling her this was all an act – a pity party to draw her back in so he could do something awful. But her gut kept asking one thing: Why would he need to do that?

After a few tense moments, Jay lowered her hands and loosened her hold on the hooks. Stan, taking this as a sign of trust, slowly sat down, pushing the stool back a bit to put some distance between them. Now Jay felt comfortable enough to inch backwards until her back hit the stack of books. She didn’t even blink, in case Stan did something again.

“I know Poin–uh, Ford didn’t tell you anything about me,” he began, wringing his hands together, “but I, uh, don’t exactly have the most admirable past.” He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard? “I’ve had to do a lot of lying, a lot of stealing, just to scrape by. I lived out of my car for a while. Hah, I don’t even know how Ford tracked down the motel room I was staying in to send me that postcard.” He stole a glance at Jay, who wore the same skeptical look on her face. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s been a while since I’ve had… company. Or been around people who weren’t convicted felons. And when I came here, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else but Ford. And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting anyone three inches tall. So I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I just… need to remember how to act normal again.”

Jay was floored. The depth of sorrow in his voice was something she didn’t think a human was capable of. And as freaked out as she was, she could clearly see this was an attempt to reach out to her, to offer an olive branch without having to keep apologizing and reminding himself of the terrible thing he’d just done. He acted impulsively, and he knew it. Even after what he just did, he was making the effort to at least try and patch it up.

Ford did the exact same thing.

“I, uhm, I can relate. Kind of.” 

Stan’s eyes lit up for the briefest of moments at the sound of her voice. He didn’t think that would actually work. 

“Uhm..” Jay had to pause. This all felt so foreign to say. She had never related to a human about anything. “About the stealing part. And the not being used to company part.” Stan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jay sighed. Was she really about to do this?

“I’ve told you a bit about… borrower stuff,” she said, keeping it vague in the hopes that he forgot most of it. “A huge part of the lifestyle – probably the biggest part, really – is the… stealing from humans part.” She gave Stan a chance to insert a witty remark, but he stayed silent. “We basically take anything and everything we can get while they’re not looking. Food, supplies… whatever we can get our hands on. And it gets pretty lonely, because most of us – we travel in small groups, or pairs. It’s not safe to be in a big group. I’ve…” She debated if she wanted to say this, but judging from the small tidbits Stan had revealed, she guessed it wouldn’t be so embarrassing to him. “I’ve been on my own for a while. It’s – well, it’s hard to remember times with other borrowers. I could go weeks without speaking, and it – it would have been normal. This… this is all pretty new to me, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s new to me. I know how to handle myself,” Stan interjected, immediately regretting his defensive tone when he saw her exasperated expression. “I mean… that sounds like it was really tough on you.”

Jay huffed a laugh. “Yeah. It was.”

There was an awkward silence as both of them tried to figure out what to say next. Stan was remorseful, and a little freaked out, but he just wanted to feel okay with himself as quickly as possible. He could barely handle the nervous side-eye she was giving him right now, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Look, uh, you don’t have t’be scared of me, okay? I did somethin’ stupid, I know I did. I shouldn't have tried to – it was just a reaction. I’m used to havin’ to punch my way outta situations. Sometimes I forget how… tiny you are.” Jay felt her stomach sink at the direct call-out to her size, and she shrank even more as Stan peered at her. “Like, I could breathe on you and hurt you.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Weak and helpless.”

“Well, you’re a pipsqueak, that’s for sure,” Stan said callously before shaking his head. “But no, you – that’s not it, I just – I know this is weird for you, but come on, you gotta admit it’s even weirder for me. Up until a week ago, I didn’t even know something like you even existed. Now I’m talkin’ to a person who can fit in my hand, and you… you’ve been hangin’ around Ford for months. I’m just a… different version of him.” A stupider, worse version of him.

Jay thought about it for a moment. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point. Stan wasn’t the first giant she’s ever dealt with, but she was his first tiny. And he just lost his brother after not seeing him for a long, long time. That was a lot to deal with. She didn’t really know what Stan had been through, but judging from the way he spoke about it… it didn’t seem normal by human standards.

“...I know,” Jay said quietly, sheepishly, but Stan still heard. “And I’m… sorry, for riling you up. I said those things to make myself feel better, because – you may think I have this superiority complex thing, but I mean, how else am I supposed to compete? You… Ford, Fidds, you guys are gigantic. You can do things I can only dream of doing. Hell, you do things I can only dream of without even thinking about it. It’s… hard not to feel worthless in comparison. It’s hard to feel like I even matter.”

Jay immediately flushed red. Why on earth did she just say that? Why was she confiding in Stan? She was saying things she had never even told Ford. This is so embarrassing. He doesn’t care! He doesn’t have sympathy for you! 

But to Jay’s surprise, Stan didn’t laugh at her or make another joke about her size. Instead, he sighed. “Trust me. I know how that feels.” Jay’s look of pure surprise and skepticism told Stan he needed to elaborate. “You only knew my brother for a couplea months, but I spent my entire life with the guy. I grew up in Ford’s shadow. He was the smarty pants know-it-all twin, and I was the trouble-making, dumb twin. My folks cared more about Ford’s homework than whatever I was doing.” Stan stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do right now was relive this. Why was he even saying this to her? “Hah. Looks like we’re more alike than we thought, pipsqueak.”

Jay crossed her arms. “Woah, let’s not get crazy now,” she said, slightly defensive. But her small smile betrayed her. Stan smiled in return.

“Hah, right.”

Stan rubbed the back of his neck, and after a few seconds of silence, he stood up, ready to leave and be done with this. He said his apology – he said more than he wanted to, in fact – and that was more than enough. The exhaustion was clearly getting to him. He’d slept maybe a total of 10 hours over the past five days. Yeah, that was it. He was just tired, not thinking straight. He needed a good night’s sleep. Maybe a day’s break from code-cracking and journal reading and tiny little people who could sit in his palm would do him some good.

He made his way toward the exit, but stopped at the threshold. Something was nagging at him, and he needed a clear head.

“You, uh… you gonna be alright, kid?”

Jay’s eyes lingered on Stan. Her heartbeat still felt elevated, her breath hitching every time his fingers twitched as he wrung his hands together. The thought of being picked up by him again made her head start rocking. It took everything she had to look up at him, and even then, she could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before the bile started to rise to her throat. She had to take a few concentrated breaths once she realized her breathing was still shaky.

“Yeah,” she said finally. She wasn’t sure how much she meant it.

“Okay,” Stan replied. He wasn’t sure how much he believed her.

Stan stood for a few moments, sorting through his feelings. Nothing about this felt real. It was all happening so fast. But he would go to sleep tonight and wake up in the morning and she’d still be here while Ford was gone. Just like it had been for the last week. Just like it was probably going to be for the foreseeable future. It was stupid, and unfair. But Stan was used to unfair.

He found himself staring, still unable to process how he could barely make out her form among the clutter of the table. If he didn’t know she was there, he wouldn’t have noticed her. He hated how much that freaked him out.

Ugh.

“I, uh, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

Jay stared straight ahead, then down to the table. Her hooks sat on either side of her. She had tied up enough rope. She had thought everything out. She knew the way out.

But then she looked back up. Stan leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, his expression cautious, his eyes hopeful. He regarded her with curiosity, not disdain. He was waiting for an answer. She let out a long, deep sigh.

“Yeah, Stanley. I’ll see you in the morning.”

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 16: The Bracelets

Thanks again for keeping this story alive!!! Chapter 15 was posted a few moments ago, so make sure you read that first! Please leave comments on the story and art ❤️

26 Days until competition

“What do you mean you don't want to spend time with me?” Azriel questioned playfully. Socked feet propped up on the coffee table, Azriel stretched his body as he held his phone, content to watch Elain who had been frantically running around her kitchen for thirty minutes. 

On the other end of the video call, Elain snickered as she put the finishing touches on the cooled down cake. It was a simple red velvet cake covered in thick cream cheese frosting. 

“That is not what I said at all,” She chuckled, smoothing out the icing with a butter knife. “Nesta is having a girls’ night. I figured it would be good if I went for a little while.”

Azriel's heart squeezed in his chest. The meeting with Miryam and Drakon had been one of his best ideas. It’d only been a few days since then, but there was no trace of the doubts that had previously plagued her brain. She’d needed a reminder of what skating was all about. A reminder that she was strong and capable, and could give herself permission to be entertained. To open her heart and let love, any kind of love, burrow its way in. 

They’d spent a good two and a half hours at the Snowspell rink, jumping between showing the married couple their ice dance routine, and carefully learning intricate lifts only allowed in the pairs skating program. Miryam talked Elain’s ear off, sharing early stories of her and Drakon’s relationship while Drakon relentlessly teased Azriel any chance he got about the way he wore his heart on his sleeve. After they’d left the rink, Elain’s joy could be felt across Prythian. Azriel had dreamed of Elain’s lips on his cheek that same night. 

“I didn't realize you were so hellbent on seeing me anyway,” Elain taunted, licking the frosting from the knife when she’d finished. There was something so erotic about this sweet, soft woman licking what could double as a deadly weapon. 

“Spending time with you is the best part of my week,” Azriel answered truthfully, adjusting so that one arm was underneath his head. “There's nothing better.” 

“Not even hockey?” She asked quietly, doe eyes wide in surprise as she gingerly sprinkled pink hearts onto the cake. He’d gotten lost in those eyes on more than one occasion. He’d also caught those pretty brown eyes looking at him in a way she never had before. Almost as if he’d finally become something more to her than just a skating partner. More than just a friend. His cheeks warmed at the possibility. 

Azriel spoke softly, “No, not even that.” And it wasn’t a lie. Everything else dulled in comparison to spending whatever little time he could with her. 

“And what will you do while I am occupied tonight?” Either a genuine question, or a way to squash the palpable tension that could be felt even across a video call.

“Maybe I'll throw my own guys’ night,” He suggested, though a night alone was tempting. 

“Whatever you do, do not corrupt my nephew,” She said, pointing the knife at the camera. 

“I wouldn’t dream of stealing Cassian’s job.” A moment passed before he said more solemnly, “Promise me you’ll call if you need me for anything.” 

Elain’s face flushed. She wondered if her cheeks would always heat or her heart would always glow when he showed just how much he cared about her. “I promise.” 

Elain stood outside Nesta's door with the cake cradled between her hands. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the wind, matching the sprinkles on the sweet treat. Laughter erupted from behind the door, and Elain decided she couldn’t flee now even if she wanted to. A very tipsy Nesta had spotted her through the window and ran to fling open the door, enveloping Elain in a warm embrace. With a laugh, Elain gently scolded her older sister for almost crushing the cake. 

The inside of Nesta’s home smelled like cinnamon, embers from the fireplace, and three different types of alcohol. On the couch, Feyre lounged with a glass of red wine as dark as the accent pillows. Two girls sat on the floor, a brunette and a redhead, with a giant unopened box between them. 

“Am I late?” Elain asked sheepishly, nodding her hellos. She turned to Nesta. “You said to come over at eight. How are you already tipsy?” 

“No comment,” Nesta slurred, patting Elain’s cheeks. She must have had a few drinks before anyone arrived. “And you’re right on time. Elain, meet Emerie and Gwyn. Emerie teaches mixed martial arts here in the Night Region, and Gwyn owns a vocal studio in Summer.” 

All three girls flashed bright grins between each other. Elain placed the cake down on the kitchen table and said softly, “I baked a cake. I hope everyone likes red velvet.” 

Everyone did, in fact, enjoy red velvet cake. The treat was gone within the hour, along with most of Feyre’s delicately crafted charcuterie board. Gwyn’s exotic fruit tray had also been a hit, and the drinks were flowing and constantly being refilled. Bottles of wine, liquor, and even sparkling ciders were quickly becoming empty. 

Elain, to her sisters’ shock, had indulged in perhaps one too many drinks as well. She’d burst open from her shell, nodding along to Gwyn’s stories and laughing loudly at Emerie’s drunk antics. Feyre’s eyes glittered as she and Elain drunkenly swayed to music, and Nesta’s cackle could be heard all the way in Day region at Elain’s attempts at filthy jokes. 

“What’s in the box?” Elain motioned toward Gwyn, who eagerly unsnapped the locks and turned it around for everyone to get a better look. Elain’s hazy eyes took a moment to focus. 

“One of my vocal kiddos brought me this bracelet kit for Solstice last year,” She beamed, fiddling with the bracelet strings before passing them around. “I haven’t found time to make any yet, so I figured tonight would be perfect. Silly, harmless fun. There’s enough for me to make bracelets for all my students and for you all too, if you’d like.” 

Elain accepted her string, rubbing it between her fingers. In all her twenty six years, she’d never experienced something as simple as making a beaded bracelet with friends. Lighthearted, easy fun had never been a choice. 

And now it was.

So she grabbed another string, scooped a pile of beads and charms from the box, and permitted herself to create a memory that in years time, she’d hold dear to her heart. 

The last bottle of wine had just been cracked open as the doorbell shrieked. Emerie, closest to the door, opened it and blinked. 

“We heard there was a party.” 

Elain watched Nesta’s head whip toward the front door, mouth falling open as Cassian stomped into the house, followed closely by Rhys and…

“Azriel,” Elain breathed, not as quiet as she thought. His gaze found hers immediately, shooting a wink in her direction. 

She didn’t know where to look first. 

The short sleeve black shirt that seemed to suffocate his arms.

The gray sweatpants that hung loosely off his hips. 

The backward black cap. 

The molten hazel eyes. 

The smirk that always sent her heart into overdrive. 

She didn’t know where to look first, so she just…looked. 

And if he gave her shit about it, or tried to joke about her ogling him, she’d blame it on the three and a half glasses of wine she’d consumed. 

Elain stood, blocking out Rhys and Feyre’s conversation about Nyx’s bedtime routine with their sitter named Madja, and completely ignoring Cassian’s lame attempts at flirting with Nesta (who only seemed to be enjoying said attempts due to the large amount of vodka in her system). 

She walked right over to Azriel, whose grin was blinding. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What have you been up to, beautiful? You look like you’ve been having a good time.” 

Elain offered a lazy smile of her own, extending her hand and wiggling her fingers as the other was clenched behind her back. “Follow me.” She led him to the back porch, sticking out her tongue at Cassian’s wolf whistle (which earned him a smack on the chest from Nesta), before shutting the door for privacy. 

“I got you something,” Elain said, shaking her head at the mistake. Giggles erupted from her throat. “Well, technically, I made you something.” In a movement so swift she almost lost her balance, she presented her clenched fist toward him, revealing a pair of bracelets. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “I know you have my necklace, but now we have matching good luck charms, too.” 

Azriel blinked. 

Elain bit her lip, stained cherry red from the wine. “Is it stupid? We don’t have to wear them. They’re probably not good anyway since I’m a bit tipsy and couldn’t really see the colors of the beads but–.”

“Put it on me.” 

The rambling paused. “What?” 

He presented his wrist, saying thickly, “Put it on me.” 

A relieved breath escaped her lips as she secured the pink bracelet around his wrist. It took her five tries to finally knot the string, playfully pouting when Azriel teased her about watching her alcohol intake. The middle beads made up her name, and the blue bracelet she had him tie around her own wrist featured his name, too. A claiming of the sort. 

“Miryam told me that she and Drakon used to wear a matching set of rings on the day of their competition to bring them luck,” Elain hiccupped, covering her mouth when another set of drunken giggles left her mouth. Azriel leaned against the back of a chair on the porch, arms crossed and eyes mesmerized by the current state of his partner. “Cresseida and Varian have matching warm-up jackets, and I know Kallias and Viviane have each other’s initials tattooed on the inside of their wrists. They kiss the tattoos before they skate. I wanted us to have something, too. Even if it’s just a silly beaded bracelet made after one too many glasses of merlot.” 

Elain felt herself being pulled into Azriel’s chest. She sank into him, nuzzling her face into the fabric of his shirt. He held her to him, fingers running through her honey-gold strands. 

“I hope you know I’m never taking this off,” Azriel said, lips brushing against her hair. She smelled faintly of jasmine, honey, and the wine she’d consumed. Familiar and intoxicating. 

Elain, arms still wrapped tightly around Azriel’s torso, tilted her head back to say, “That’s the point.” 

They were content to embrace each other in the dark of the night. At least, Azriel truly was. But it was Elain who pulled away first, just enough so there was a sliver of space between their bodies. Azriel folded his arms over his chest, face easy as he watched Elain look him over unabashedly. 

“Checking me out?” He teased, lips quirking. 

He expected her to flush like she always did. And of course she did. But the rose color that blossomed high on her cheeks was accompanied by a sultry voice. “And if I am?” 

She stepped forward again, and Azriel audibly swallowed as her fingernail traced the dark ink along his bicep. Her movements were slow, exploratory, and hell he could do nothing but stand there and let her touch him. 

Her fingers grazed the tattoos on his neck next. Azriel bit his lip to stifle a groan before murmuring, “Then that makes two of us.” 

Indeed, because he was growing less subtle whenever his eyes lingered on her body over the last few days. The urge to touch her, taste her, had been far more consuming now than in the beginning of their partnership. 

But he wouldn’t touch her, nor would he taste her. 

Not yet. 

Not in this state. 

“Az?” She whispered into the night, index finger tracing the sharpness of his jaw, the outline of his lips. His pants visibly tightened, and he prayed to whatever entity existed that she didn’t look down, lest she be uncomfortable. 

“Mm?” 

“What’s it like?” She asked softly, thumbing the plushness of his bottom lip. Her eyes focused on his mouth, savoring the warmth of his breath, before saying, “To be kissed?” 

Every piece of Azriel froze. 

His thoughts and his bones and his blood and his breathing and his heart. Time was suspended as he let the question sink in.

“I’ve never been kissed before,” Elain went on, eyes a shade of deep brown. Azriel couldn’t, wouldn’t, tear his own gaze away from her. Not while she was looking at him as if she might ravish him wholly. “And I’ve never kissed anyone myself but I…” She swallowed then, the only outward show of nerves. “I think I’d like to kiss you one day.” 

Azriel’s heart leaped. He didn’t care that her words were a bit slurred and thick from the wine. Didn’t care that she was revealing a piece of herself while she wasn’t sober. Despite the alcohol in her veins, he knew her words were truthful. “I think I’d like to kiss you, too.” 

One moment, Elain’s eyes were roving over his face, his body, and her hands were tracing and gently gripping any sliver of exposed skin. The next second, her lips quivered and eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “But I can’t.” 

Azriel’s face fell, and he gripped her wrist in his hand, their bracelets glinting in the moonlight as he cradled her hand against his cheek. “Why not?” He asked in a broken rasp. 

Elain pulled away, although every instinct in her body told her not to. He looked visibly in pain, as if her words had sliced through his chest. “There’s too many reasons why we can’t do this. As much as I want to, we just…can’t.” 

He would get no more information out of her, he knew. So he accepted her answer with a curt nod of his head and released her wrist. He already missed the feeling of her skin. 

“I have a pretty good idea what some of those reasons are,” Azriel said. “But let me just say one thing.” And because he was a greedy bastard, he stepped forward and placed either of his hands on the sides of her neck, thumbs stroking her skin. Beneath her neck, he could feel the rapid thrum of her pulse. “If any of your reservations are because of…me…I need you to know I would never force you, never pressure you, to do anything. If anything ever happens between us, it will be on your terms, when you are ready.” 

Elain’s eyes flashed, Azriel’s face the depiction of wary. Full of conviction, she said, “None of those reasons are because of you, Azriel. Please never think that. I trust you with my body as much as I trust you with my life.” 

Azriel groaned, forehead bumping against hers. “Fuck, Elain. Tell me you understand I’d take care of you. Tell me you know that.” 

She nodded sheepishly. 

“No,” Instinctually, he gripped her chin between his fingers, never hard enough to cause pain. Only to keep her there with him just a bit longer. “Tell me.” 

She stood straighter, chest brushing against his own. Elain gauged the raw emotion in his eyes and said, “I know you would take care of me. In every way possible if I allowed you to.”

Azriel dipped his chin once, kissing her nose before breathing, “Good.” And because his mouth was just a hair's breadth away from her lips, and because the temptation to claim her was so strong, he pulled away and offered, “How about I take you home, yeah? You look like you’re going to pass out any minute.” 

Elain chuckled after stifling a well timed yawn. In her tipsy haze, she whispered, “Only if you promise to carry me to my bed if I fall asleep in the car.” 

And yes, Elain had fallen asleep within minutes of strapping her seatbelt. It took Azriel a moment to fish out her apartment key from her purse, but once he found it, he carefully maneuvered Elain out of his car, cradling her to his chest as he expertly unlocked the door. 

Even without the promise, he still would have carried her to bed anyway. The thought of changing her into something more comfortable infiltrated his mind, but he decided against it. He wasn't sure how she would feel in the morning if she knew he had seen her, if only for a brief moment, in a vulnerable state. 

So he laid her on the bed, peeling off her shoes before securing her under the puffy, white comforter blanket. After some rummaging in her bathroom cabinets, he found a pack of makeup remover wipes, and gingerly scrubbed her face. Even with all of the jostling, she remained fast asleep and as peaceful as a dove. 

Azriel knew he should’ve left right then, but he perched himself on the side of her bed and gently stroked her now makeup free cheek. He knew what this feeling meant inside his chest. The feeling he wanted to let erupt, but one he had to keep contained until she felt the same way. 

“You have my heart, Elain Archeron,” He whispered into the silent night, kissing her cheek before he stood from the bed. “I hope one day you let me into yours.” 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[faegoddessog]

Stroke Yourself For Me

A/N: Soooo, I've been dipping my toes into digital art this week... Decided to whip this up today to go along with this little window into the fuckery that is my mind. I'm still learning (though I've done sketch art my whole life) Yes I used (several) reference pictures. I fear some of the values may be off, and of course I see all that is wrong with it... but I'll never tell. lol!

As always, if you'd like me to add you to my tags list, let me know!

Summary: Just a little moment when introvert time becomes exhibitionist time.

Warnings: Mature Material 18+, Masturbation, Mess, lil' bit'o praise, Fingering, PiV

It had begun just cuddling on the couch. Just quiet time. He was reading on his 

kindle, thumbing through the pages. She had sat down a foot from him, her own tablet in hand. She knew he needed introvert time and didn't want to interrupt. She just wanted to be near him.  Without looking up, he opened one arm towards her in the universal invitation for snuggle time. 

She slid under his arm and into his chest. Once settled, she let out a big sigh of contentment, he kissed the top of her head. 

It was like that for a while, until she came to the dirty part of her story. She was so sucked in, that she didn't realize she was muttering little oh’s and mmm’s of appreciation. 

Without letting on, Austin started reading over her shoulder. His fingertips unconsciously caressing her upper arm. His keen fingers that he could hold in just such a way as to look delicate, as though water were dripping off the tips. There were countless photo shoots of him, but none of them showed the reality. Not one gave away  just how strong and persistent those long fingers could be.

It wasn’t until he shifted, adjusting to give his dick just a little more room, that she noticed his e-reader was laying face down on the cushions. 

She turned to look at him. His eyebrow twitched and his jaw tightened, fire kindled in his eyes  She twisted in his lap to reach his mouth with her own. He had pulled her in hungrily. 

Now, she matches his desire easily, running her hand down the old tshirt that covered his chest, then up under it. He reaches over his head, and grabs the back of his shirt. It momentarily divides their face as the fabric passes between them.

Just the heat of his skin under her hand is another level.  She plays at the hairs of his chest and his hand roams down to the curve of her lower back. His mouth is on hers again, devouring, demanding. His tongue is just that little bit extra in her mouth. As he pulls back, in ebb, she sucks that rich of his lip in, the tip of her tongue flicking along the fullness. 

Lower, lower, lower her hand wanders as his glides around the curve of her ass.

She runs a finger along his waistband, teasing his skin with her fingernail. The muscles of his stomach tighten in and attempt to pull away from her ticklish touch. He smiles against her lips, humming out a tiny laugh. She can feel his sweet little cupid’s bow twitching against her lips. She pulls back to look at him, her pupils dark  with want.

“Sorry, didn't mean to tickle.” her voice comes out sultry and low. 

“S’ok,” he purrs out, capturing the beauty that is his bottom lip in his teeth. 

He wants her, wants everything to do with her, He’s so fucking in love with this woman. He’d endure anything for her, from her. He’s about to tell her this, when  her tongue rims her rosy pink lips and he loses all train of thought. What she could do with that tongue, he knew, was pure sorcery.

She leans in, pulls his lip out from under his teeth with her thumb and flicks her tongue against it in little kitten licks. All just a minor distraction from her hand as it continues to explore the rim of pants. She tugs at the button of his jeans, but her angle doesn't lend itself to ease of movement.

In one swift snap of his fingers, he slips the round brass stud from its capture, his zipper follows suit and he exhales at the sudden space his now hard cock is afforded. 

She cups him gently through his briefs as her tongue continues to make promises to his mouth that she may or may not keep. 

His groan, low in his throat, is everything to her. She loves him beyond words  and  would do nearly anything to hear that sound rumble in his chest. The sound of desire, of straight up need. His need for her.

Together, they free his cock, exposing it to the cooler air. He hisses as a stray hair he must have missed is caught in the zipper. 

“You ok?” her concern written on her face.

“Oh yeah” he rubs at the sting. She catches his movement out of the corner of  her eye.

“MMMM,” her eyes narrow as an idea forms in her wicked brain. 

Together, they work his pants down just enough to keep the toothed metal away from his sensitive flesh. 

She takes in the sight of him, shirtless, pants only partly on, freckles sprinkled over the surface of him, like kisses from Ra. She walks her lips over her favorite ones;  left pec, the three that slant across his midline like Orion’s Belt, and the darkest one down and to the left from his belly button. The last conveniently near the tip of his cock. 

The fact that when he was freed and hard like this, he could drip precum just above his belly button always made her wet. In fact there was a dewy drop threatening to fall right now. She slowly laps along the tip once, twice.  

The breathy ‘oh’ that falls out of his mouth makes her hips pulse forward.

Yes, when she first laid eyes on his natural asset, she had been nervous. It was just… big. He had seen the look on her face and luckily, he knew just what to do, how to handle her. He had worked her so sweetly and thoroughly with tongue and fingers that she begged him for it. When he entered her slowly, deliberately, she had rocketed straight up and was bounding over the precipice of her orgasm within a handful of strokes. 

Anytime she lays her eyes on it now, her Pavlovian inner walls prick with heated blood flow. It turns out that he fits perfectly into her cunt.

His hand alights at his base.Holding his big cock gently away from his belly between thumb and forefinger, offering himself up to her in whatever form she wanted to take him.

It was hot, in fact, everything about him was heat itself. 

Now, she trails her fingers lightly up his magnificent shaft.The grin on his face at her touch was all the encouragement she needed. 

She pitches forward, dominating his mouth. Her hand wraps around his and pulls it onto his shaft. 

“Stroke yourself for me,” she says against his lips. Before he can protest, she produces a bottle, seemingly from thin air. Clear liquid dribbles in a line along his shaft and over his tip. 

He freezes as the cool sliquid drips onto his fingers and skin. This was not what he had in mind. In fact, he had never done it in front of her, or anyone for that matter. 

“C’mon baby, show me how you work that gorgeous cock,” she murmurs in his ear, sensing his hesitation.

Her sultry voice, her hot breath on his skin, the way her hips press against his leg leaves no space for the embarrassment that was trying to surface.   

“Please, Sugah”  she slips ever so slightly into a prettily demanding southern accent. The one that always gets her what she wants, the one that has come to drive him wild. 

“I- I don’t usually use this hand,” his mind trying to hold the two opposing thoughts of wanting to yet not. 

“Hmm, quite the dilemma then huh, cuz that’s the one that’s messy and this other one is busy bein’ all ‘round me.” She snuggles deeper into the crook of his arm. 

He tries moving the muddled hand. It feels awkward to him, like he’s never touched himself before. 

“I don’t know baby, it’s … I’m…” he stutters, those high cheekbones flushing as he breathes out what could almost be a petulant sigh. 

“You can do it,” she encourages, “we are in no hurry my love, just close your eyes and find what feels good.” She trails her fingers over the ridges of his abs. 

He nods, licking over his bottom lip before trapping it with his top teeth again. He shuts his eyes. He starts with his thumb and first two fingers, slowly up and down his now slick shaft. Short strokes become longer ones as his hand finds a metaphorical footing.

Her fingertips trace down to his legs, her nails scratch light lines up his thigh. He moans as even through the jean material, the sensation adds to his pleasure. His hand starts to grip, fisting up and down his cock. 

She watches the muscles of his forearm pop as he pauses now and then edging himself just a bit. His eyes are still screwed up tight, little lines forming between them on his forehead. The way his lips fall apart is just delicious. 

“Fuck, baby, you are so hot, I love watching you pleasure yourself,” the murmur in his ear spurring him on. More lube drips from the bottle onto his tip, then into her hand. Her palm gently cups around his balls.

“Oh fuck yeah,” it comes out more breath than vibration as his eyelids flutter. The tips of his fingers dig into her back as she massages his sac. 

The tension travels outward: squirming hips, wave of motion up his arched spine, his chin tilted up. All of it before his abs tighten and curl him in. She can tell his body just wants to fuck, primal and instinctual.  

His strokes move short and fast over his head, then long and slow over his whole length. 

Little fretful moans begin to escape him, like he’s begging for permission to cum, even though he’s in total control. 

“That's it.  You gon’ cum for me?” Her voice drips over him like honey as she drapes her leg over his. 

“Uh huh,” comes his simpering reply.

She starts to tongue the nipple nearest her, sucking in the tiny nub, grazing it with her teeth the way she knows he likes it. 

His whimpering moans are like music to her ears. His glutes flex, his feet try to find purchase, his body is shaking.

“God, it’s so sexy,” she says more to herself than him. Her pussy squelches in her panties as she presses against him, desperate for friction against his thigh. 

His edgy , percussive sounds give way to deep grunts. His hand stills as his hips jut forcefully forward, fucking his length up into the ring of his fist. 

She can feel his testes tighten to his body. 

“Let me hear you sugar.” She extends one wet finger behind his balls doing her best to stay light and steady in the storm of his passion. His hip thrusts rub the pad of her finger across his tight little pucker. It is his total undoing. 

Long, loud growls accompany the strain of his hips and gnashing of his teeth. His pelvis tucks and his abs are rock hard.

White cream spurts from his tip, a milky line from his sternal notch to his belly button and back again. He seethes, air hissing in and out from between clenched jaw.

“Good boy, that’s what I want,” she rises. In one motion she straddles his chest, skirt hiked and rubs her cotton panties on his cum covered chest. She’s not even thinking right now, her need is cardinal. 

His hand is still on his cock, arm trapped under her leg. He never thought someone riding his chest would be so fucking hot. 

Still panting, his other hand wiggles its way under the sticky fabric. His fingers find the wettest pussy he ever felt. The fact that his jerking off is what has her clit drowning like this is not lost on him.

She drives back onto his fingers, leaning forward over him to let him get deeper. Her tits jiggle under her shirt. She lifts it and feeds him one of her nipples. He eagerly suckles, just like she likes. 

“MM, can you get deeper?” she moans, 

“You want my dick, it’s still hard,” his voice is low and sultry around her nipple.

She doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. Her body says it all as she scoots back and  he pulls the sodden cotton aside as though he’s done it a thousand times. She gyrates her hips, seating his tip. 

 When she finally slides back. They both groan loudly; he at the warm heat enveloping him, she at being so utterly and perfectly filled. 

Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

"I've been tagged by you before Lumiere!": @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke

[dumblesbiansworld]

I probably shouldnt say this but the scenes in Mona Awads 'Bunny' where Ava and Max have some romantic thing going on and Samantha just stares at them in jealousy are so 'Mr Brightside' coded. its insane

[jfkisonthemoon]

they honestly couldve done so much with junpei beheaded/dismembered and im disappointed that it ended up just being mira. so much of his character and his relationship with akane is characterized by his lack of bodily autonomy, and him being openly beheaded during the nonary games would be the ultimate example of this. its perhaps the most brutal death in the game, and it never really gets explained or developed beyond the one puzzle that we get with it. junpei has been shown repeatedly to be subject to akane's plans or follow her blindly and i just think that would have been a really interesting angle to approach his beheading from. junpei has willingly signed up for nonary games in two different timelines just because he knew he would see her. he was infected with a deadly virus trying to find her. he grew desensitized to death as he took underground jobs to try and find her. his safety always comes second when shes in the picture, and his beheading wouldve been a prime opportunity to 1. exploit his willingness to let himself die/be injured for her and 2. make akane confront the fact that her confidence that junpei will always follow after her is not necessarily a positive thing.

[sadpicturesques]

so is there a mrs. brightside?

[mintmatcha]

Continuation.

Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.

And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.

He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-

He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.

Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.

Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.

"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.

You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.

"I'm retired."

Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.

"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."

"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."

Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.

"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"

You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.

"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."

Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-

"You twitch like one too."

"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.

"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.

"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.

"Soda water with lime."

"No alcohol?"

"I like to keep my wits about me."

The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.

"You scared the fuck outta him."

"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."

Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."

"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"

He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."

"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."

That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-

"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.

"I do.'

"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."

"It's better if you don't know."

Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-

A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."

"You kill people?" he whispers back.

"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."

It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.

If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.

"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."

"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"

You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."

There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-

So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.

"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.

Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.

[rose-petles]

니키 - ruined make-out sessions -> N.NK

Warning → Kissing / Making out.

Paring → Clingbf!Niki x SoftieGfFem!Reader

Synopsis → Its been two months since he has kissed your lips.

You jumped when you placed your toothbrush back in the holder and looked into the mirror, only to find niki standing there behind you.

He giggled as he put his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest before he laid her chin on your shoulder.

"You scared me."

Your eyes locked in the mirror and he pouted sadly.

"Sorry. I just couldn't stand being away from you for another minute."

You turned around and looped your arms around his neck to pull him closer if that was even possible now.

"It's been two months since I last saw you. Two months without your arms around me, without being able to kiss you." He whispered the last part against your lips as he leaned in to steal another lingering kiss from your lips.

"I love being on tour. Don't get me wrong. You know being on tour. Don't get me wrong. You know how much I love it. But it's not easy being so far away from my girl."

You hooked your fingers under his chin, already craving the taste of his lips again. He breathed out a soft sigh as he gently laid his hand on your cheek, wanting to feel your soft and warm skin against his fingertips.

"I've missed you too, nini. So much."

You quickly melted into his kisses and hid touch as he let his hands roam along your body. He suddenly started to walk backward until he led you out of the bathroom and into the hotel room where you fell onto the mattress, fingers intertwined.

He pulled away to stare at you adoringly for a moment. You were wearing his shirt. It was nothing new. You find yourself stealing them all the time.

He even left his favorites behind for you, spraying his perfume on the fabric to let his smell linger until the day you reunited; which came much sooner than he expected, thanks to your wonderful surprise visit today.

He dropped his forehead onto yours and pecked your lips as he kept his eyes locked with yours.

You looked pulchritudinous, just laying there all smiles while you stared at his endearingly and eagerly awaited the next brush of her lips on your own.

"I'm so happy you're here." He whispered before trailing kisses to your neck.

"Me too, niki. I missed you lots." You mumbled as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes to let more of your skin be kissed lovingly by the sweet brush of his lips.

He put his fingers under your chin a moment later because as much as he loves kissing your neck and hearing those sighs fall from your lips, he loves the taste of your lips and the way they move against his own.

He deepened the kiss and brushed his fingers along your skin. You jumped when he lifted up his shirt you had on and his warm fingers fell to your skin.

But his touch was so calming, so doting, and after two long months without feeling his passionate touch, you basked in every second of his concupiscent caresses.

You held him close, so close that you could feel every swift beat of his heart against your own.

You couldn't help the soft sigh that fell from your lips as he pulled away from your lips once more to kiss and gently bite at your skin.

He’s missed you an inexpressable amount and he planned on showing you just how much; by loving on you and holding you as tight as she could.

But just as his lips brushed against that one special spot on your neck, the door of the hotel room was opening and you both jumped in shock.

Jake stood wide-eyed, looking just as shocked as you and Niki.

Niki cleared her throat awkwardly while you buried your face in his neck. Your cheeks were redder than ever before and niki would usually tease you for that, but his ears were just as red.

"Jake? What's up?"

"Uh," Jake mumbled and shook his head, trying to think of why he walked into the room in the first place.

"You didn't knock?" Niki wondered.

"No, I did. And Sunoo and Heeseung called before that. But neither of you answered and now we know why." He tried to crack a joke, but you were all too shocked and too awkward to laugh.

"Sunghoon wanted to know if you wanted to go out?Y/n's here, it's her first night, and we thought we'd do something fun to celebrate but... I think you found other ways to celebrate." You whined in embarrassment and niki shook his head.

"We'll be down in a few minutes."

Jake never left a room so fast before, simply nodding and slamming the hotel door behind him.

You and Niki stared at each other for a moment before he climbed off of you.

"Well. the next week should be fun. Having to look Jake in the eyes after that."

Niki chuckled and reached for your hand.

"Yeah. But I'll take the teasing. At least I've got you here and that's all that matters to me."

You laid your head on his shoulder and she kissed your head lingeringly.

"I feel the same way, nini."

He turned your cheek and leaned in for another kiss. But you pulled away quickly, taking him by the hand and leading her to the bathroom.

"Come on, we gotta get ready. The boys are waiting for us."

He whined as you dragged him into the bathroom to get ready, already craving your kisses again.

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Copyright © 2024 rose-petle/Rostle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[moonstruckme]

hello, my love! i cometh to the with a poly!marauders request.

i haven’t fleshed it out in my head, but could you write something revolving around them talking about r while she’s “asleep”? the way it came was in the sh drabble, reader falls asleep on james after the tough convo. i thought of a nice follow-up where the lads talk about ways to support them while they think she’s asleep and she feels so safe and supported and it’s just fluffy and cute.

it doesn’t have to be around sh or anything like that! just something fluffy and cute where they talk about her when they think she’s fallen asleep on one of the lads. it could be about past trauma they want to support her with, a trigger and them discussing how to go about helping, etc. - anything you fancy at all. i could use some soft fluff ❤️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

poly!maraudes x fem!reader ♡ 796 words

Sirius’ thumb is sweeping a slow back-and-forth over the baby hairs at your temple. You can feel his chest rising and falling beneath your head, hear his heart inside it, smell the heady spice of his cologne, but you’re sleepy enough that those things fuzz together, melt into the gooey softness of dozing. 

James and Remus are tidying in the kitchen. You’ve been distantly aware of their low, continual sounds, but you don’t register the change until Remus’ footsteps near the couch where you and Sirius are lying, the floor creaking beneath his feet. 

“Do either of you—oh.” His voice drops to a hush when Sirius shushes him. “Is she asleep?” 

You have the notion to make some small sound, but your mind is sluggish. When Sirius murmurs, “yeah,” before you can, you decide to let it go. 

Remus makes a soft tsking sound. You feel the couch bend near your feet. “Should we wake her? She might not sleep well tonight if she does now.” 

“I don’t much care when she sleeps.” Sirius’ thumb keeps stroking at your temple, his voice as soft as you’ve ever heard it. You think that you may never get past the oddity of being held by him like this. When you first met Sirius, any tenderness had to be disguised as flirting. In a moment like this he would have woken you with sweet, tickling kisses mushed into your neck, growling about how you were too cute to let sleep before making some joke about how if you want to get me into the bedroom, gorgeous, there are quicker ways. And it was all in good fun, you’d enjoyed it and known the real sentiments that lay beneath all his levity. But over time that showy, over-the-top amorousness has morphed into a more sincere sort of fondness, and you like this version of Sirius even more. “Only that she does sleep,” he finishes. “She hasn’t been getting much of it lately.” 

“No,” Remus hums. “I’ve noticed.” 

There are a few moments of soft, blanketing silence between them. You start to drift off again, but then another pair of footsteps comes. 

Remus must make some silent signal, because James whispers, “She’s sleeping?” 

Two hums. 

“It’s not like her to sleep during the day.” 

“We don’t think she’s been getting much of it during the night, either,” sighs Remus. 

James makes a low cooing sound. The throw piled by your feet finds its way up to your shoulders. 

“James.” Remus’ voice is stern. 

“What?” 

“Don’t touch her face,” says Sirius. 

“Sorry,” James laughs softly. “She just looks so cute.” 

“Well, try to restrain yourself.” 

“Okay, okay.” But a pair of lips touches down ever so softly on your forehead, and you hear Sirius’ amused chuff. “Why do you think it is that she’s not been sleeping?” James asks. 

Remus hums. “M’not sure. I think she may just be a bit overwrought.” 

Your chest aches at the caring in his tone. Sirius’ free arm bands across your shoulders, a protective, solid weight. 

“She’ll be alright,” he murmurs. “She just needs a little extra help at the moment, is all.” 

“Maybe we could bake something tonight,” says James. “She always likes that.” 

Remus’ voice is warm with affection. “That’s sweet, Jamie. Maybe something simple, so she can just relax.” 

“Like decorating cookies?” 

“Do we have the stuff for that?” Sirius wonders. 

James scoffs, and you feel Sirius’ chin bump your head as though a forceful kiss has been pressed upon the top of his. “As if you’d have any idea what’s in our pantry. Cute.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. You shift slightly to hide it, turning your face further into Sirius’ chest. All three boys go quiet. 

Sirius rubs your shoulder gently. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, lips to your hair. “Go back to sleep.” Your boyfriends stay silent as you settle, and for a cautious while after that. 

“She’s so precious,” Remus whispers, almost too softly for anyone to hear. 

James makes a quiet sound of agreement. “I hate when she’s upset.” 

“I don’t think she’s very upset,” Remus muses. “Or if she is, she might not know herself. It’s all just a bit much right now, I think.” 

“She’ll be okay,” Sirius says again. His hand is moving over your shoulder still. You think he might do it for hours if it kept you from waking, he loves you that much. Your heart feels too big for your chest. “We’ll take care of her. Cookies, right?” 

“It’s a start,” Remus agrees. 

“James, I swear to god, if you wake her I will fill your shoes with cow shit.” 

“I won’t,” James swears. “Relax.” He presses his lips to the tip of your nose, and both the other boys sigh.

[tojirights]

❛ you taste like heaven. ❜

Alastor with angel!reader omg. I imagine that reader was Alastor's wife back when they were alive, but didn't see eachother again after death because Alastor is in hell and reader is in heaven. I imagine that after Sir Pentious got redeemed, Sera sent reader (because she has experience with demons(? Ur choice) and Sera trusts her a lot) down to hell to investigate this 'hazbin hotel'.

a/n: AHHHH i almost didnt want to write smut into this because it was so precious 😭 ooc alastor again but its so CUTE. i added my "alastor speaks french" agenda to this as well lol.

buy me a coffee? 😇

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, fem! receiving oral

heaven was in shambles after the last extermination, no one knew what would happen next now that souls could be redeemed from hell. it was then that sera approached you in private, all but begging you to go be an "ambassador." you were hesistant at first, not only thinking that this was a lot of responsibility, but also that your... husband had to be down there. he wasn't a "good man" after all, but your heart still fluttered at the thought of seeing him once more. with a sigh, you accept sera's plea and prepare for your trip down to the hazbin hotel.

there to greet you, was charlie morningstar herself, bright eyed and bubbly just like you heard all about. she leads you into the foyer of the hotel before you stop dead in your tracks. charlie is still speaking a mile a minute in your ear, trying to welcome you as best she can, but you're not listening. your eyes meet alastor's, immediately recognizing him even in this new form of his. and when his smile almost fades, you know he recognizes you too.

there's another brief pause before you're running towards him, your wings unfurling on their own as you're quickly wrapped up in his embrace. the other inhabitants of the hotel watch, confused, seeing as alastor hasn't really let anyone but niffty get close enough to touch him, let alone embrace him. your wings fluff up and cover your faces as you lean up to kiss your estranged partner. "oohh, sweetheart.." he sighs against your lips. "its been..."

you smile between kisses, your heart racing in your chest. "too long." you finish his sentence, earning a chuckle from the demon. his lips kiss a trail to your ear, a low growl to his voice as he whispers to you. "you taste like heaven, darling." your cheeks go red, not quite prepared for such a comment, especially in front of company. "alastor!" you hiss, hitting his chest gently but he just pulls you closer in response.

finally, he addresses the group behind you who are all standing with their jaws hanging open. "now, if you're all done gawking, i believe my wife needs to be shown around..."

husk spits out his drink as alastor speaks, covering angel in alcohol. "your WHAT!?" you hide your face as calamity ensues, everyone trying to speak over eachother at the insane news. "your wife... is an angel?" charlie asks gently, trying to get to the bottom of this. "well, i couldn't have known for sure but she was always more a saint than i." alastor hums, running his hand down your back. you shudder when he touches your wings, to which he notes in his head for later.

"o-oh! well then! i guess you should show her around, yeah?" she smiles bashfully, still taken aback by everything happening since your arrival just a few minutes ago. you look up at alastor, your cheeks aching from smiling so wide. "i think i'd like that." you whisper to him, enjoying the way he pulls you closer to him. "hold on tight then, my love."

you're not sure what he means by that until you're slipping into the shadows with him. its an odd feeling, but you don't think much of it until you're reappearing in what you assume is his bedroom. alastor is careful with you, like he's afraid the wrong touch will burn you, but he craves the feeling of your bare skin against his hands more than he can admit. you smile, reaching your hands up to cup his face. "touch me, al. i'm not fragile..."

your words light a spark deep within him, forcing him to restrain himself from ripping your pretty clothes into tatters. he groans inwardly, large hands reaching around to pick you up before fumbling his way to the bed. "corrupting an angel wasn't on my bucket list until seeing you again, my dear." his tone, its not what you're used to hearing, but that gravelly undertone shoots straight through you. "oh please, you can't corrupt me more than you already have." alastor's lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you feel him smirk.

"i hope that's not a challenge." he tests, tugging at the hem of your dress. you all but giggle, lifting up so alastor can free your body of clothes. "and what if is it?" you challenge, knowing full well that alastor wouldn't let your teasing continue without proper punishment. his eyes darken red, and there's a tinge of fear in your gut. because this may still be alastor, but its been quite a while, you don't know how he's changed.

but as he kisses down your stomach, you're reassured that the man you married is still there somewhere, underneath this 'radio demon' persona. "your lips tasted of heaven, mon amour, does this taste so sweet as well?" alastor's words alone are enough are enough to make you whimper, then the feeling of his hot breath against your clothed cunt makes your core pulse.

your hands naturally fall to the top of his head, feeling the softness of his ears and the rough points of his antlers. "c-can i..?" you start, timidly holding onto the horns. alastor's body shudders as he shoves his face into your thigh. "yes, ma chérie. please do." he breathes, tugging on the thin fabric of your panties until they rip in half.

alastor wants to be patient, wants to treat you like the angel you are, but he is a demon after all. and he hasn't gotten such a delicious meal in far too long. after he feels your grip tighten on his antlers, he lets loose his self control. his first taste of your sweet pussy sends him into a frenzy, eating you like a man starving. his tongue swipes up your slit before circling your clit in quick flicks. your legs are shaking already, breathy moans leaving your lips with reckless abandon.

there's a part of you that is concerned to be getting your cunt ate by a demon, but this demon was your husband, after all. sera made you come down here and you might as well enjoy yourself, right?

your hips arch up, craving more and more, and alastor is happy to oblige. "this is heaven, my dear. not some palace in the sky, but here, between your legs." your eyes well with tears, overwhelmed in more ways than one. every pass of his tongue has your release teetering on the edge while his sweet words make your heart flutter. its almost too much, and when alastor sucks on your clit, your walls burst.

"a-alastor i'm..." you mewl, every nerve on your body screaming as your orgasm rolls over you. you're almost sure you're hurting him by how hard you tug at his hair, but alastor doesn't stop. the intensity is something you've not experienced in many, many years, and the tears stream down your cheeks. alastor coaxes you through it, licking slow and soft circles around your sensitive bud until your shaking stops.

he's quick to climb up, wiping the tears from your puffy eyes. "such a good girl, mon amour. there's plenty more where that came from."

[parkerslatte]

Weak At The Knees

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

Summary: At Starfall, Y/N is searching for Azriel and when she eventually finds him, she is surprised to find him drunker then she had ever seen him before.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

As Y/N turned, her dress spun around her elegantly. The light blue was a contrast to everyone else’s darker gowns making her stand out within the mass of people. Y/N hadn’t picked the dress she wore, that had been down to her mate. Her mate who she hadn’t seen in a while. 

She scanned the room and didn’t see his face in the crowd, nor did she see the shadows that were usually resting calmly upon his shoulders. There was no trace of him. 

“Feyre,” Y/N said, catching the attention of the High Lady. 

Feyre stepped away from Rhys and turned to Y/N with a tired smile. “Y/N, I haven’t seen you all night!”

“I know but I’ve been in search of my mate all night,” Y/N replied. “Have either of you seen him?”

The High Lady shook her head. “The last time I saw him, he was with you.”

Y/N sighed. “That was about an hour ago.”

Y/N looked around the room and out of the corner of her eye spotted a shadow darting towards her. Y/N quickly bid Rhys and Feyre a goodbye and walked to the shadow. It darted out and wrapped around her body, Y/N shivered. Despite his shadows not being a physical being, they were always chilly to the touch and she could swear that she felt Azriel’s hands in their caress. 

“Now where is your master?” Y/N muttered and followed as the shadow led her to a door. 

Y/N opened it and smiled at the sight. Azriel was slumped on the floor, his wings stretched out at his sides, seemingly laying on the floor. An empty bottle resided beside him as he looked out of the floor to ceiling window. 

“There you are,” Y/N said, walking over to her mate. 

Azriel’s head snapped to her and a lopsided grin spread across his face. “Y/N, come and sit with me.”

The moment Y/N sat down beside him, Azriel frowned. “I need you closer.”

Y/N shuffled closer and Azriel continued to frown. “Not close enough.”

Azriel let his legs fall open and gestured for Y/N to sit between them. Y/N chuckled and did as he wanted. 

“Where have you been for the past hour?” Y/N asked as she leant back in his arms. 

Azriel pressed her back to his chest firmly, pressing a soft kiss on the back of her neck. “I’ve been here, waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?” Y/N questioned, fully relaxing into Azriel’s arms. “Az, I had no clue where you were.”

“Oh, I thought I told you to meet me here?” Azriel asked, caressing her arms, causing goosebumps to trail in his wake. 

“No, my love,” Y/N said. “You never did.”

Azriel huffed. “That explains a lot. I thought you forgot about me.”

“Sweetheart, I could never forget about you,” Y/N said, turning her head to look at him. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not a lot,” Azriel replied, burying his head into the crook of her neck. 

“Then explain the empty bottle beside you,” Isal said, cupping his face. 

“That was for my shadows,” Azriel replied, fighting a grin trying to force its way onto his face.

“I completely believe that1,” Y/N said with a smile as she pulled away from Azriel and stood to her feet. 

Azriel reached out for her, a pout on his face. Y/N chuckled. Azriel rarely ever got this drunk, in fact he rarely ever got tipsy. It had been years since she had seen Azriel indulge this much. 

“Come on,” Y/N said and held Azriel’s hands in hers. 

“Where are we going?” Azriel asked, stumbling to his feet causing Y/N to balance him. 

“To get you to bed,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around her mate. 

“I don’t want to go to bed,” Azriel complained. He wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and rested his forehead against hers. “I want to stay here with you.” Azriel pressed a sloppy kiss against her lips. “I wanted to stay here and share a drink with you.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “You took care of that yourself, my love.”

Azriel sighed., frustrated with himself. “Will you come to bed with me?”

Y/N smiled and caressed his face. “Of course. Now come on.”

Y/N led Azriel out of the room, him clinging to her the whole time. There were eyes on them immediately when they stepped out, everyone clearly not used to seeing Azriel act the way he was. 

“I was wondering where Az slipped away to,” Cassian commented, sliding up to the mated pair. 

“He was hiding away in a separate room waiting for me,” Y/N answered while Azriel simply pulled her back against his chest. “An idea he completely forgot to tell me about.”

Cassian looked at Azriel and a quiet laugh sipped past his lips. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him this drunk. But I’ve never seen him like this, the last time he was just…broodier than usual.”

“That’s not true,” Azriel mumbled against Y/N’s head. “Y/N, tell him that it’s not true.”

Y/N laced her fingers with his. “Cass, it isn’t true.”

Cassian laughed and finished off his drink. “Well, I’ll let you get Az to bed. Mother help me when we go to training tomorrow with his hangover.”

Y/N peeled herself away from Azriel, to his dismay. She wrapped Cassian in a quick hug. “Well it’s a good thing that is your problem and not mine.”

“He’s your problem tonight,” Cassian said and pulled away. 

Almost immediately, Azriel’s arms snaked around her waist and pulled her against him and buried his head into the crook of her neck, his lips pressing soft kisses against it. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not a problem,” Y/N said as she turned in Azriel’s arms. 

As Cassian bid goodbye to the couple and went to find his own mate, Azriel began to press more kisses against Y/N’s exposed skin. Despite being mated for over a century, Y/N felt herself begin to get flustered

“Having fun there?” Y/N asked, locking her arms around his neck. 

“I love you,” Azriel mumbled. 

Y/N smiled and gently cupped his face, pulling him away from the crook of her neck. “I love you too.”

“I don’t want to go to bed anymore,” Azriel said. “I want to stay here with you and watch Starfall.”

��Well we can find somewhere to sit,” Y/N suggested. 

“But I just want to be with you,” Azriel whined. 

Y/N’s eyes filled with amusement. “My love, have you forgotten in your drunken haze that there is a balcony connected to our bedroom.”

Azriel smiled. “Can we go there?”

Y/N pecked his lips. “That is where I was taking us anyway.”

“I love you,” Azriel muttered again. 

“You’re awfully affectionate tonight,” Y/N commented. 

Being affectionate was common for Azriel, but only behind closed doors. The most he would initiate any sort of public affection was maybe a quick kiss on the lips or cheek or a squeeze of her hand. But behind closed doors Azriel was the most affectionate male in existence. 

Whenever they were alone and just lounging around after a long day, Azriel’s favourite position was to lay with his head on Y/N’s chest, silently listening to her heartbeat, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m with you,” Azriel answered. 

“Come on,” Y/N said and linked her fingers with Azriel’s. 

Y/N led her mate to their room and closed the door behind them. The moment the doors were closed, Azriel began to pull Y/N over to the double doors to the balcony. Y/N followed him, watching as his wings scraped against the floor. Azriel didn’t seem phased. 

Proceeding to open the doors, Azriel pulled her out into the cool night air. Y/N couldn’t help but smile in response to the genuine joy that presented itself on his face. 

Azriel wrapped his arms around Y/N and pulled her close to him and planted his lips on hers. Y/N smiled into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“There was something I wanted to tell you tonight,” Azriel mumbled against her lips, his body swaying. “I wanted to tell you when I snuck away.”

Y/N caressed Azriel’s cheeks. “What was it, my love?”

Azriel pulled away from Y/N and walked to the end of the balcony. Y/N followed. 

Azriel pointed into the distance. “I bought that cottage you liked.”

Y/N looked at Azriel in disbelief. “You didn’t.”

Azriel turned to Y/N, a smile on his face. “I did. You liked it so I bought it.”

“But you said you didn’t want to move too far away from the rest of the Inner Circle in case anything happens,” Y/N said, wrapping his arms around his neck once again. 

“I know,” Azriel said, his arms slipping around her waist. “But I need to start doing things for myself, not for others. And I have my own family now.”

A fond smile spread across Y/N’s face. “Are you sure about this, Az?”

Azriel nodded. “I had everything planned out tonight. We would slip away and share that bottle of drink together and I would tell you, but I think nerves got in the way and I began to have a few drinks to find the courage to tell you and then I had already finished the bottle and completely forgot to tell you to meet me.”

Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair. “You talk a lot when you’re drunk. And you’re not as articulate with your words either.”

Azriel groaned and buried his head into the crops of Y/Nm’s neck. “This isn’t how I planned it.”

Y/N’s hand found its home on the back of Azriel’s head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Azriel.”

“I love you so much,” Azriel mumbled, peppering kisses up her neck until his lips met her mouth once more. 

Y/N melted into the kiss, somehow feeling herself falling more in love with Azriel— if that were even possible. 

“I will never tire of kissing you,” Azriel whispered, his hands squeezing her hips. 

“Then kiss me again, but—mmph—“ 

Y/N was cut off by Azriel's lips on hers, this time his mouth fully dominated hers as if he were a starved man. Y/N clung onto him, afraid that if she were to let go, her knees would buckle. 

She could get lost in his kisses with no way out and she would die a happy woman. 

However, the moment Azriel removed one of his hands from where he gripped the railing of the balcony, his body immediately began to sway. Y/N pulled away from the kiss and tried to stop the inevitable conclusion to this stunt but it was too late. Azriel fell back, pulling Y/N down with him. 

His back landed onto the stone balcony with a loud thud while she landed softly upon his chest. Y/N quickly looked at Azriel, afraid that he was hurt but before she could ask him, the most beautiful sound rang through the air. Azriel’s laughter. 

Azriel never laughed often. He would offer the occasional chuckle, or if he were in a specific instance— a giggle, though he would rather be shot down from the sky than ever admit that. 

The laughter was contagious as Y/N began to laugh with him, fully relaxing atop his chest when she knew that he wasn’t hurt. Azriel’s hands rested on her back and hip, keeping her pressed against him. 

“You have me weak at the knees,” Azriel spoke through his laughter.

“You didn’t need to bring me down with you,” Y/N replied. 

“Wherever I go, you go,” Azriel teased. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. “When I said that at our mating ceremony, I didn’t have this particular instance in mind.”

Azriel smiled wide. “It doesn’t matter. You said it.”

“And now I’m living to regret it,” Y/N joked. 

Azriel’s hand caressed her face, his hot breath fanned across it. “No you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Y/N replied. 

The moment their lips touched, the most beautiful sight that happened once a year shot across the sky. Both Y/N and Azriel were too wrapped up with one another to notice, but neither of them cared. Their most beautiful sight was when they looked at each other. 

[hannieehaee]

what if girls noticed nerd jk was getting attention from mc and that made them curious enough to try and speak to him and mc gets a wittle jealous and possessive 👀👀👀👀🥹🥹🥹🥹

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, afab reader, smut, situationship implied, jealousy, penetrative sex, etc.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, extra

wc: 1897

a/n: loved this prompt omg thank u for requesting anonymity<333

masterlist

you weren't a jealous person. that just wasnt part of your personality.

never had you ever had to feel jealous about any boy you liked giving attention to someone else. nor did you think you'd ever have to.

so why was it that you were currently green with envy as you watched an unsuspecting jungkook be bombarded but the attention of three girls?

that was your boy toy, not theirs. you had been the one to find him and take him in and wreck his mind, so why were they suddenly so interested?

the two of you were supposed to meet in one of the many hallways leading to the campus' quad in order to head over to get some lunch before your tutoring session. however, after having waited over ten minutes leaning over the wall in which you'd usually wait for him, you began to grow annoyed. you walked around a bit, attempting to see if he was nearby, only to never locate him. even after a phone call and three texts (three!!!), there was no response from the boy. it wasn't until you walked over to the next hallway that you spotted him from afar, a shy mess as three girls surrounded him with flirty smiles.

one of them kept reaching out to touch at his chest, pulling at the neck of his dress shirt to reveal more of his skin – jungkook shyly took a step back, but the sight still bothered you. another annoyingly twirled her hair as she made eyes at him – jungkook's eyes didn't meet her own, but the implication made you far too angry. the last one had grabbed his phone from his hands, likely entering her contact info in it – this was the one that made you fume the most.

you weren't close enough to hear the conversation, but you could still see every single move and action coming from the girls, all targeted at your jungkook. you'd never felt this jealous in your lifespan.

sure, you weren't official with jungkook, but you still did not dare look at any other guy now that you had jungkook all to your disposition. how could you when you had such a pretty and obedient boy so obsessed with you?

soon enough, you grew far too annoyed at the sight, marching over there decisively, ready to rip heads off it necessary.

you made it close enough for jungkook to finally spot you behind the three girls, with them being too distracted by the pretty boy to realize you were currently standing at a short distance behind them. jungkook immediately perked up, features morphing into those of shock upon taking notice of the annoyance in your face. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, which alerted the girls of your presence, causing them to turn to you.

"baby-," is what slipped out of his mouth, immediately covering it in embarrassment.

rather than shocked or ashamed, the girls seemed bothered by the interruption, giving you looks of disdain and disgust while your eyes remained on jungkook.

"what are you doing with my boyfriend?", you finally spoke up, annoyance reeking from your voice.

"b-boyfriend?", asked jungkook, unable to mask the shy smile making its way to his face.

the most annoying girl of them all scoffed, jungkook's phone still in hand, "boyfriend?", she tilted her head to the side in mock curiosity.

stepping forward, you snatched the phone from her hand, grabbing onto jungkook's hand with the other and stepping in front of him before facing the girls again, "i'd appreciate it if you didn't hit on jungkook. he's taken," you said before marching away once more, dragging a willing jungkook along with you.

you didn't look back at all as you walked away, not even to check on jungkook. still annoyed, you held tightly onto his hand all the way to your dorm, not uttering a word at the boy the entire time.

~

"i'm so sorry, i didnt- hmph!"

"shut up, jungkook, just- just shut up," you rasped before attacking him with your lips.

the moment you made it into your dorm, jungkook was ready with apologies as soon as you closed your door, turning to you with his pretty doe eyes and a pout. you could tell on your way here that he noticed your discomfort at the previous confrontation, likely scared that you were mad at him.

but you could never be mad at him. you knew those girls only showed interest in him when you first noticed him. it had quickly become a hot topic when you and jungkook began to be spotted together hand in hand, though you never confirmed any type of relationship to anyone. you'd noticed more girls taking notice of jungkook ever since, but these had been the first ones to try and shamelessly take him from you.

so you dragged him home and pushed him up against the wall, not allowing a single word from his lips. you were far too bothered to have a conversation. you needed to confirm to yourself that jungkook was yours and that no one else could even go as far as looking at him with suggestiveness in their eyes.

"'m sorry- they- fuck, i didnt-"

the poor boy kept trying to sneak in apologies in between kisses, but your lips wouldnt stop attacking his own, sucking into his tongue until he submitted to your kiss.

eventually, your lips trailed down to his neck as your hands unbuttoned his dress shirt, wasting no time in running your hands up and down his sculpted physique. sometimes you cursed at yourself for never having noticed such a pretty boy before – especially when he'd been pining after you all along.

"hated seeing you with those girls," you grunted into his skin, nails scratching down his chest and abs, drawing a hiss from him, "so fucking annoying ..." you muttered.

"i didnt- i didnt realize they were flirting with me, i-im sorry," he stammered, too lost in your touch to give you a better explanation.

you disconnected from him, grabbing onto his belt loops and harshly pulling him into your living room, with him numbly following you. pushing him onto your couch, you threw off your shirt and wiggled your pants down before sitting on him, lips immediately finding his again.

"made me wait for you," you whined, "made me watch those girls be all over you ... so mean to me ..." you huffed into his lips.

he shook his head but continued kissing you, "m sorry ... 'm so- so sorry," he pleaded, hands digging into your hips and attempting to make them make contact with his own, but you persisted against it.

"you're sorry?", you asked, pulling away. grabbing onto his hands, you placed them on your bare tits, knowing it always made him crazy when you let him touch you, "you didn't look sorry back there, though?"

his eyes remained on your tits, hands shyly squeezing at them. his glasses were foggy by now, making you have to remove them to wipe them before putting them back on him, "i ... im so sorry," he mumbled again, without much thought. he kept biting his lips and looking down at your tits, head shyly tilting forward to seek permission to get them in his mouth.

"do you want them, kookie? you want those girls?", you sneered, throwing his hands off you and huffing above him, no longer sharing any contact apart from you sitting on him.

this woke him up from his lust-filled trance, "n-no! no, i could never- i want you! i only want- it's just you!," out of character, his hands went to wrap around you, pushing your against his chest. for once, he did not ask for permission as his lips went to your chest, desperately kissing and sucking at it as apologies left his lips.

you sighed in contentment, fingers running through his locks, "my kookie ... you're mine, right? only mine?", you asked, sighing again at how good he worshiped your body. his hands were restless as they felt up your hips and ass, attempting to push you against him so you'd grind on his hardening cock, this time successful.

he groaned at the friction, nodding into your chest, "yours ... y-your boyfriend," he sighed, nibbling at your nipple before softly licking at it.

"need ... fuck, need to show you you're mine," you decided, suddenly pulling away and drawing a whine from him. your hands went in between you to help him remove his pants, pulling them down low enough to pull his dick out.

"please ... show me. need you to show me ..." he cried before breaking his voice with a gasp, hands tightening around your waist when you lowered yourself onto him with no warning.

"m-mine, fuck- you're all mine," you rasped, open mouth against his own, unable to properly kiss due to the sudden stretch.

"t-tell me you're mine too ... please-", he begged, nosing at your cheek.

"'m yours, pretty. your girlfriend, hmm? just like- how you're my boyfriend. right, kookie?", you groaned out in between bounces, catching jungkook's groans right in your ear.

the poor boy did not stand a chance. your words got too him too easily, making him begin to beg to cum faster than expected, and far sooner than he usually did.

but you still needed to punish him a bit. even if he had been aware of the girls flirting with him, you had still been forced to bare witness to their grubby hands on him, a sight that still made you see red.

"can't cum, yet, bunny ... be good and wait for your girlfriend," you commanded lightly, "you'll be good, right, bunny? my pretty bunny ..." you rambled, slowing down your thrusts and leaning back so your clit would rub perfectly against his pelvis. it made you lightheaded.

he nodded without any other words, gasping every so often when you'd tighten around him. hands were greedy in how they dug into your plush skin. likely leaving marks.

"'m gonna cum, bunny," you revealed, "gonna give it all to you ... with me? hmm? cum with me, baby?", you were a mess just as he was, whining out every word pathetically.

yet he fared far worse than you, unable to form any words, simply whining your name as he nodded against your skin.

taking this as a green light, you let yourself go, continuing to bounce crazily on him whilst your orgasm took over you, eyes rolling back when you felt him find his high along with you.

"s-so good ... m-mine ... only want you ... just y-you," he grunted, falling back against the couch with eyes shut close.

you let yourself fall against him, nuzzling into his warm chest and drawing patterns on his skin with your fingers, refusing to make a move to slip him out. wrapping his arms around you, he gave you the impression he also wanted you to remain there.

"i'm sorry," he started, "id never flirt with anyone who wansnt you ... too shy to even flirt with you in the first place," he chuckled shyly.

"it's okay, bunny. just like you so much ... it drove me crazy to see them think they could just have you like that," you grumbled, kissing his skin to calm your annoyance at the memory.

"i only want you," he reassured, hands caressing your back softly.

"me too, bunny."

[solbaby7]

Feel Me

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual descriptions, tensionnnn, cocky!az , minors DNI

summary: Fae males don’t make love like the sweet boys you knew in the human lands. Fae’s fuck.

based of the request in [ part 1 ]

—

No one else was supposed to be home.

Rhys and Feyre had left long before the morning dew could mist over the lawn. Cassian and Nesta had slipped out hours ago with their leathers on and hair neatly braided after a steaming cup of coffee.

Buttered pancakes steam on a plate, bacon sizzles on the stove and your hips sway in tandem with whatever bouncy song your humming. Strawberry stumps grow in a pile to your left, knife slicing at ripe fruit contentedly until a sneaky wisp of darkness snatches a piece for its master. “You planning on sharing?”

“Depends on how nicely you ask.”

Azriel doesn’t bite, he only raises a brow with a smirk growing at the corner of full lips. “Was it polite words that initiated Elain’s legs straddling your waist the other night?” Shock shoves the ability to form a sentence out the window and you despise the way your eyes linger on the mess of dark hair atop his head—thoughts wandering to less than respectable places when picturing other ways to muss up soft strands. “Bacon’s burning.”

A frustrated scoff pulls from your throat, a blush fanning across your cheeks and gratefulness floods your chest when you actually have something to busy your hands with to avoid Azriel’s honeyed stare. “Not that it’s any of your business,” You hiss, avoiding spattering oil while forking meat from the pan. “But, I was just helping out a friend.”

“Helping?” His morning voice was sinful; a low rasp coupled with lazy lids and a t-shirt that fit entirely too well.

“I offered sound advice.” The house cleans while you plate, stealing berry stumps as a warm rag is ran over the countertops. Hot water is poured in a mug, a tea bag string twirled around the handle. Azriel’s already next to you, twisting open the honey jar and passing it over before you can reach for it. “I demonstrated to ensure a thorough understanding—nothing more.”

“And what exactly were you demonstrating?”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.” Syrup drowned pancakes are shoved into your mouth, favoring the possibility of choking on fluffy goodness over engaging in this conversation for a second longer.

Azriel doesn’t feel the same way, blocking off your hasty exit with his body. Was he always this tall? Giant wings hover behind him and they rustle softly when you reach out a hand to gently push him away. It was a mistake on your part—initiating physical contact because now all you could focus on was the warmth that ebbed through the soft cotton of his shirt and the hard muscles hiding beneath it. “Make it my business.”

You don’t pull away, too entranced with the smell of him. The feel of his body against your fingertips. The barely there distance that toed the line of entirely too close. “I don’t understand why you’d even care.” You mutter, snatching your hand away when you catch yourself subconsciously rubbing at the dark fabric. “I was—“ Words stammer, breath catching over the intensity of his stare and you have to will your voice to steady itself. “I was teaching her how to properly be intimate with a male.”

“I didn’t realize there was a proper way.”

“You know what I mean,” You ramble, obviously flustered when swatting away the inky fog that attempts to swipe crispy bacon from your plate. “She asked for advice and I gave a few tips to make her feel more confident—more comfortable. I was being friendly.” The pancakes have started to go cold around the edges but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Azriel keeps stalking closer, arms boxing you into the counter with ease.

“Hm,” His face is unreadable, void of any emotion but your certain his eyes go just a touch darker when you lean back, your shirt rising; broadcasting a sliver of your stomach and the pale blue panties peeking out of your sleep shorts. “And if I wanted some friendly advice—would you help me with that too?”

Breakfast is long forgotten, your eyes following the plate being pushed away by hands much bigger than your own. A shaky laugh emits, strands of your hair tickle at your cheeks and you’re painfully aware of your attire—or lack thereof judging by hardened peaks poking through delicate silk. “Az, you’re no blushing virgin. What could I possibly help you with?”

Cool shadows trace over bare legs, teasing up your calves and curling around your knees. “I can think of a few things.”

A predatory darkness coats every word, lids narrowing challengingly at you from above. There’s nowhere to run and truthfully you didn’t want to; falling into the trap of his insinuations until the smell of your arousal was becoming anything but subtle. But, then again, who fucking cared when this was exactly what you’d been craving for as long as you could remember. Filthy little fantasies about the Illyrian soldier had plagued your mind for decades. You were reduced to haughty looks and bitten lips while he sparred shirtless with Cassian, sweat gleaming against his chest and the sharp ring of swords colliding. Dirty desires that flared when you’d bump into Az late at night, his hair messy and eyes hazy—that lazy smile and those pet names that he’d let slip when he was too tired to overthink them.

Could it have been possible that Elain had been right?

That you just needed to look to find what you were yearning for.

You pray you don’t appear as desperate as you feel when your eyes scan his own; sifting through the shades of warm caramel and burnt sephia as if they’d shift into mystical beings with endless answers to your list of questions. “Such as?”

“Maybe,” The syllables are drawn out with a sing-songy lilt that has your legs shifting. “—we can start with why you thought she’d be using your tricks and charms on me?” You blame the breeze sifting through the curtains on the shiver that rakes up your spine.

The counter is cold when you lift yourself onto it, palms flat and back curving against the window pane. You shrug, breaking the eye contact and turning your head to face the flying creatures fluttering their feathery wings in the bird bath. “I hadn’t considered it’d be anyone else. You and Elain spend lots of time together and she’s obviously beautiful in that delicate, sweetheart in need of saving sort of way.”

“Careful, you almost sound jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Well, not anymore. But, he didn’t need to know that you’d ever wasted a second of sleep on him. “It was just an observation.”

“A poor one.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not going after your job.” Your arms cross over your chest, knees childishly nudging at the top of his thighs to push him away but he remains steady like a brick wall. Irritation pushes the fluttery twist of yearning out of the way the longer Azriel peers down at you with that look in his eye—that stupidly handsome smirk plastered on his annoyingly kissable lips. “Any other questions you’d like to interrogate me with?”

The vitriol in your tone only furthers the grin on his face, eating up the fluctuating emotions he pulls from you like a full course meal. “Just one more.” A breeze shifts through the open window, cutting through the strands of your hair and the smell of your conditioner permeates the space between you. “How much longer must I wait for you to pursue me before I have to take you for myself?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all you’d like but not for your pardon.” It’s said so swiftly your brain barely registers the suggestive nature of it before he’s talking again. Sweeping you up in the whirlwind that was Azriel and all you could do was hold on tight for the ride. He obtains a boldness you could only dream of, hips jutting forward between your legs to keep you from slipping away; closing the distance until his wants and desires are anything but unclear when pressed so firmly against you. “How much longer?

You swallow, the movement tracked by a hunters stare as you scramble to pull together a coherent sentence. “I suppose that depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you have any almost lovers that you’re still pining after?” Shadows glide over the countertop, sneaking behind you and urging you forward. Silky sleep shorts shuffle upwards with the motion and Azriel’s wastes no time in his exploration. Warm hands rake up the length of your legs leisurely, tracing over barely there scars and memorizing moles many overlooked. “Or do you only want me because you’ve never had me?”

Tension hold thick in the air, heavy mugginess that coats your skin with an uncomfortable warmth as you and Az sized each other up—waiting to see who’d break first.

The odds didn’t seem to be swaying in your favor.

“Never had you?” Azriel repeats as if you’ve told a joke, confidence roaring in his veins from the reactions your body offers him. Goosebumps follow the tantalizing trail of his fingers up your legs, thighs subconsciously shifting wider, granting access for more of his body to touch against your own. “Every time I close my eyes, I have you.” He has to know the effect this has on you. That must be why he insists on stealing your backbone and converting it into a makeshift leash until you’re completely pliant in his grasp. “Not exactly conventional. Nowhere near comparable the real thing, I’m sure.” A wicked gleam twinkles in his eyes, his hard chest the perfect contrast against the softness of your own. “But, it’s certainly served to be good practice.”

“Azriel—“

“How much longer should I wait?”

The barely restrained need he emits makes your stomach clench. Forces your eyes to dart from his own to his mouth; lingering, lusting.

Fuck, not much longer at all. It felt like the clock was ticking and with each second that passed, your fate grew nearer and nearer.

Instinct speeds up the process, nudging you closer until the tip of your nose brushes against his own. It’s cautious—exploratory. Testing what was allowed and what wasn’t but Azriel’s patience only stretches so far and waiting for this—for you—is an impossible task.

His mouth covers yours in a claiming clash of eager lips and hands desperate to learn the shape of you.

You’re no better, nails raking through inky strands and scouring the strong slope of his shoulders like a woman starved. A relieved sigh tickles at his skin when he kisses over your cheeks, down your neck; until that spot just below your ear forces out low whines. “Az,” Your chest heaves, lungs struggling for a full breath. “Someone will see us.”

Azriel groans, lips searching for the spots that shut you up. The spots that had your spine curving and leg hooking over his waist. You lean back, anticipating the cool chill of the wall but all you meet is soft sheets and fluffy pillows as inky shadows disperse around the room. “Better?”

“Almost.” Eager fingers grip at the offending fabric hiding golden-brown skin beneath, attempting to yank it free. “Take this off.”

“You’re not this demanding in my dreams.”

“And in mine, your mouth isn’t really used for talking.”

Azriel’s efficient in adjusting to your suggestions, tearing apart soft silk as if it were nothing more than a piece of parchment in his quest of baring more of you to him. Hips buck up and nails dig into the hard-earned muscles of his back while his mouth sucked marks across your chest. Warm hands dip under the waistband of your shorts, back curving softly in anticipation as preening little moans cut through the darkness of Azriel’s bedchambers.

When he finally touches where you need him most, teeth sink harshly into the fat of your bottom lip; the feeling of his fingers dragging slow circles over the thin cotton of your underwear becoming the perfect torture. It feels too good to ponder on about the arousal soaking through your delicates or the desperate pleas for more that tumbles from your lips like sinful prayers.

Any remaining clothing falls carelessly to the floor, the hard length of him resting at the crux of your thighs. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t I feel sure?” Your brows are a little pinched when you stare up at him, a hand wedging between your bodies to guide the swollen head of his cock to your entrance.

“You feel like mine,” Az confesses hoarsely. Inch by deliciously devastating inch is pushed to the brim, hazel eyes transfixed on the snug wrap of your pussy and the warmth that follows. “Like you were fucking made to take my cock.”

He was better than you’d ever pictured, stealing your very breath away with each dragged out stroke. “Az,” His gaze is heavy, sliding up to meet your own with dark promise casting shadows against god-like features. “Please, just move.”

“Here I was trying to get you properly adjusted,” A biting grip begins at your waist, fingers digging precious prints into your hips as Azriel positions you as he pleases. Bare thighs are braced in the crease of his arms, a cocky smirk ghosting his face. “But you just wanna be fucked.” Eyes roll behind fluttering lids when the pace picks up, the position forcing you to take every inch until all you can offer is choked moans and garbled praises.

Claiming marks are placed wherever Azriel’s mouth can reach, muffled groans and deep grunts of pleasure vibrating against your skin as he carves out a space specifically made for him. You don’t last long, lips searching for his own as you clench around the length of him; toes curling and manicured nails biting at the base of his wings.

“There you go,” He croons, gently tucking stray hairs away from your face—a complete juxtaposition from the relentless way his cock fucks into you. “Taking me so well.”

Bleary eyed and boneless you are in his grasp; allowing him to act on every secret fantasy and salacious desire he'd harbored longer than he could remember until you feel the vicious twitch inside you, his hips stuttering and seed spilling.

The room reeks of sex, sheets sodden and clothes too ruined to walk out of there wearing them without looking like you belonged in a pleasure hall.

Not that it would matter—Azriel won't let you go now; hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. "You were wrong, you know." Your brow raises in silent question. "Now that I've had you, I can't see myself ever wanting anything else."