#his dumb little braid

[avengerphobic]

yall think that exodus was intended to be native when they created him cuz he is red and he had the braids and warpath made a comment about how he looked like he could be

[mus1ca1]

braids (i hated the anatomy of wrench's face in this one)

[watatsumiis]

oh my god. kaeyas new outfit. ogh. /pos

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[moonsaver]

AE!Sunday getting nightmares while everyone's asleep and unable to sleep again because of them

AE!Sunday who checks if you're awake by sending you a small text, getting a silly response back and making him quietly chuckle.

AE!Sunday who quietly tiptoes to your room when you invite him in after he tells you he can't sleep – neither can you and what better joy is the one that's shared joy?

AE!Sunday who learns how to play the numerous videogames you and stelle do on your phones, makes an account for himself and lets you do most of the work to kill the op bosses. He tries to use his weird mind control powers on the videogames when it doesn't listen and it backfires because now he's dizzy and the game restarts all over. You laugh at him and he sends you a warning glare before zoning out in his dizziness again.

AE!Sunday who you practically have a sleepover with,, you make horrendous tea for the both of you, he tells you his wing-care routine, both of you braid each other's hair, you play around and tease some of the angels that follow him. They stick cute little stickers all over him; nevermind the contrast of the hello kitties all around the eye in the center of his outfit.

AE!Sunday who you do skincare with. You choose to do the horrendous animal face masks with him and take photos. Turns out he's wearing one upside down. But it doesn't matter now because you have blackmail material... nevermind the fact he has the same photos, too.

AE!Sunday who tells you childhood stories of him and Robin – but the solemn mood is shaken out of him when he looks up to see the angels sprawled over you while you listen attentively, with that dumb animal facemask still on, making him chuckle again.

AE!Sunday who confides in someone else for the first time. He tells you his nightmares and his fears and you tell him your insecurities. You both have a heart to heart, and eventually end up laying down on the floor with scattered pillows and puzzle pieces about you when the words start flowing out of your mouths like you two were old friends.

AE!Sunday who lets you brush his wings while he talks because it calms him down. Its a soothing feeling brushing through them, too.

AE!Sunday who falls asleep then and there; maybe even you too. But before your heavy eyelids close, you peek out to see his sleeping face and the various angels comforting him even in his sleep.

AE crew who find you two sleeping on your room's floor in a mess, because you two slept in and missed breakfast. March is a bit salty, but takes a photo anyway.

[undisclosedproxy]

Possessive, obsessive, aggressive T.R T.N M.R

Summary: A movie night where secrets get revealed with Y/N and the boys.

Popcorn flying through the air, laughter filling the homely manor and the television playing a long forgotten movie. This is how good life ha been living with the boys. Y/N was currently sitting on the warm carpeted floor in between Theodores legs, Tom was sitting to the right of them, comfortable on his own seperate arm chair and Mattheo to the left of them, taking up most of the couch sitting in the most annoying way so that he was touching both Theodore and Y/N.

”You should have heard her screaming Y/N” Mattheo laughed loudly basically wheezing at this point, ready to pee himself from laughter.

”Okay it’s not that funny. All we did was hook up and then she woke me up screaming, she was supposed to leave already.” Theodore said shooting a fake glare in Mattheos direction with his icy blue eyes. He continued to sloppily try to braid Y/Ns piece of long brown silky hair.

”You’re right. It wasn’t funny it was obnoxious. Actually it was downright absurd, only the lowest of the low human beings with that level of IQ-“ Tom started going on a very angry rant, most of the time everyone doesn’t know what he’s talking about when he has these moments of his temper betraying him.

”Come on tom, calm down a little bit?” Y/N asked with furrowed brows and a slight pout. She didn’t mind when Mattheo and Theodore start their friendly banter but sometimes Tom just doesn’t get the hint, or pick up on social settings vibes.

Tom huffed and looked away, he didn’t want to admit it but he cares about what she thinks. They all know it too.

”You pricks are both so fucking in love with Y/N, at this point it’s disgusting.” Mattheo chuckled loudly as he continued to throw popcorn at Tom. Mattheo draped a foot over Y/Ns head. She shot him a glare and smacked his foot with her free hand, the other trying to help Theodore braid her hair.

”Do not start.” Tom warned him with a harsh look as Tom continued to put the popcorn Mattheo keeps throwing at him in a trash bag.

”Oh, do not act like you weren’t going absolute crazy when she brought a guy home.” Theodore yelled extremely loudly for no reason which was so random. Y/N looked up at Mattheo with a confused look, then back up at Theodore who was fiddling with her hair trying to detangle the matt he had made.

”No i didn’t!” Mattheo screamed back obviously lying. He was trying to cover for himself in front of Y/N.

”You dickheads did too!” Mattheo yelled pointing at Tom and Theo. As he jumped up, the popcorn falling onto the floor, the popcorn kennels already in the expensive carpet. Tom groaned loudly obviously already knowing he is going to be the one cleaning that up.

“Well. We did not hex him.” Theodore said sassily as he crossed his arms with a huff, giving up on trying to untangle the braid.

”Yes.” Tom said dryly agreeing with Theodore.

”IT WAS LITERALLY YOU WHO HEXED HIM!” Mattheo screamed at Tom, Mattheo was met with Tom staring at him blankly.

”oh.” Tom said nonchalantly,

Everyone stared at him with a concerned look on their faces.

”Is this why no boys ever come back over after the first date?” Y/N asked with a dumb founded look on her face.

”Yes.” The boys all answered in the same nonchalant tone and all at the same time.

”You guys sound like a cult, i’m leaving.” Y/N said as she gets up off the carpeted floor from in between Theodores legs. She walks up the stairs while flipping them off as they stared at her blankly.

”Her ass is so fat.” Mattheo said while so obviously staring. He was met with eye rolling from Theodore, but obviously he was staring too because he had to re arrange his pants, and Tom just looking at him with a disgusted look as he grabbed a pillow and put it over his crotch as he huffed once again.

[s0dium]

who are the sexiest JJK DILFs??? Your toji fic got me thinking....

I LOVE DILFS

Synopsis: Ranking the top three JJK DILFS. This was very self indulgent ;)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru

Warning: Age gap, breeding, blowjobs, edging

Toji Fusiguro

Of course first place goes to him, he is THE DILF

More of a father than people give him credit for, but is definitely one everyone would like to fuck

The type to act like he doesn't care about what his kids do but then show up to their baseball game or recital with a camera

Definitely likes younger women

He knows no shame. Are you his kids pre k teacher? He is fucking you. You his kid's babysitter? Might as well spread your legs now

Toji knows how hot he is, in fact he bathes in the stares of all the other moms and the whispers

He's mean in bed too

You thickly swallow when you feel Toji tap his tip on your soft lips.

“Suck.”

With not an ounce of hesitance, you bring your face close to Toji’s awaiting member and allow your tongue to flop out, the warmth of your wet muscle gliding across the underside of his dick making his thighs shudder. Your ego swells, he rarely, almost never, shows a reaction when you suck him off. That simple shudder gives you the courage to bring his tip in your mouth, suckling and kissing the swollen head. Your eyes are locked with his as you do this, relishing in that subtle smirk he gives when your tongue swirls over his member, soaking the skin with your saliva.

"Make it quick, before the kids get home." He says through a groan.

2. Geto Surguru

Coming in hot is Suguru

Above all else Suguru is a family man, even after two daughters he finds him self wanting more. Perhaps a boy even?

Very loving father, the type to make you breakfast in bed and cook for you

Very active in his kids life, will go to PTA meetings (which you hate because all the moms swoon over him) and he knows how to braid and do his daughters hair

Wants. More. Kids. Honestly, it doesn't matter what gender the kid is, he would be lying if he said the part he didn't like the most was the fucking you dumb and filling you

"Talk to me baby," Geto groans in your ear. Oh god you want to, you want to say something something about how fucking good you are feeling, but words seem to fail you. The friction of his dick thrusting in and out of your walls is too delicious almost maddening. Geto snapped his hips so fast that everything seemed like a blur, the bed was shaking immensely with the head board banging on the wall and so were you from getting your cervix abused by his leaking tip. One hand is pinning your wrists together while he pistons into your gummy walls with brute force, too dumb to resist him that you could only moan and whine from how good he was fucking you.

"Want me to cum in you baby? Fill you up?'

3.Nanami Kento

Honorary DILF! This man has everything that meets the DILF criteria without being an actual dad

But if he where a dad, he'd be an amazing one

Stern but kind, Nanami Kento is not only dad material but husband material

Nanami Kento is the type to be oblivious to all the stares he gets from other women because the only this that on his mind is you and his kids

And with you, his wife, the love of his life, this man takes his time loving u

"M'feel so good so good," You babble feverishly, practically choking on each syllable. Your breathing has become ragged and fat tears started to cloud your vision.

"Shhhh baby I know." Nanami groans, grunting at the way your pussy squeezes around him, trying to suck him in impossibly more even though his tip is already brushing against your cervix.  The sounds that emanated from your bodies were sinful, trapped warm cum sloshing with every slow thrust. Your thighs trembled, toes curling and uncurling at the feeling of being stuffed so impossibly full. 

“Faster please faster,” You whine and bury your nose into the nape of his neck to kiss and lick at the skin in an attempt to appease your husband. 

“Just a little longer baby, wanna fuck you nice and slow first.”

[kirislovelygf]

new haircut (sevika x fem! reader)

contents: you and sevika are married, takes place between acts 1-2 (season 2), you give sevika a haircut, found family trope with jinx & isha :(( fun family time :D

wrd count: 1.3k

⍣ ೋ

things have been crazy in the lanes for the past new months. i haven’t seen this many enforcers on our streets since.. actually i've never see this many.

ever since those noxians came and paid topside a visit, that kiraman girl had been on a serious power trip.

she became some kind of dictator down here and now she’s got her men flooding the streets. beating on people, putting up weord propoganda all over the city, arresting good men and women..

all in search for jinx. they're promising bullshit to anyone who turns over jinx to theauthorities but no one down here is dumb enough to do that.

sevika’s been trying to rally the undercity together for some kind of uprising but i’ve been helping jinx keep a low profile.

she’s never been good a laying low.

we’ve mostly spent these days playing in the hideout, taking naps all day, stuff like that. it’s more fun with her new little friend isha.

i’m not sure where she came from, but sevika told me she just.. fell from the sky basically. and just followed jinx around from then on.

the three of us were hanging out one night. i was playing around with my makeup on isha, who’s been begging me to use it on her.

“not too much, she’s still little.” jinx said as she was fixing a new gadget of hers at her desk.

“where you think she’s going? out to party? have some drinks? it’s just for fun.” i chuckled, raising my brush to isha’s eyes.

“close your eyes, sweetie.” i instructed. she did so with a cheeky smile. i smiled at her giddy fingers tapping the metal floor in excitement.

“we’re gonna do some glittery pink… it’ll look super pretty.” i told her.

as i continued, i heard the stomping of boots toward us.

i look over at sevika, home from another day of work.

“hi, vika.” i smiled.

“we doin’ makeovers?” she said jokingly as she walked over.

“yeah, she’s been crying for one for days.” i said. isha whines and hits my knee, making me laugh.

i look up at sevika staring at herself in the cracked mirror. she’s looking at the sides of her head and feeling the back of her head.

“what? realizing you woke up uglier than yesterday? i bet if your ask, she’ll give you your own makeover.” jinx giggled.

sevika stayed quiet before looking over at me.

“you think you can help me with something?” she asks.

“what is it?” i asked, looking for some lip gloss for isha.

“i’m not loving my hair.. it’s hard to tie it up with one arm.”

“what? i love your hair, vika. and i don’t mind doin’ it for you, i’ve said so already.” i said to her.

she chuckled. “it’s not just that. i’d like it better shorter.” she says, glancing at herself again.

jinx looks up and gasps. “can i cut it?”

“no.”

“you want it cut! you just said-“

“not by you.” she grumbled. jinx scoffs.

“i’m great tdoing hair. you think i sleep in these? every night..” she says, holding up one of her blue braids.

"and? you haven't cut your hair since you were a kid. that's literally baby hair-" sevika argued.

“it’s okay, i’ll help.. but i still think you should leave it as is.” i sighed.

“thanks. cause there’s no way i’m letting her near my head with scissors.” she said.

“no haircut is gonna make you look less like a grumpy troll under a bridge... just sayin.” jinx said before putting her goggles back on.

“hey. that’s my wife.” i snapped.

jinx mocks me before going back to fixing her gadget.

i put a bit of gloss in isha before i told her she was done and she jumped up to look at herself.

sevika laughed as isha tried jumping up to see her reflection but couldn’t reach.

she picked her up and set her on her leg so she could see herself. she smiled widely in admiration of herself.

i stand up. “okay.. now, where are the scissors?” i sighed out.

jinx giggled menacingly before going to a drawer and pulling out these sharp, deadly knives attached to each other.

isha gasps.

“oh hell no..” sevika grumbled.

“are you trying to behead her?” i laughed.

“they’re all i got.” jinx shrugged, holding them up with both hands.

i stare at her before she sighs, throwing the giant scissors aside and finding appropriately sized scissors in a drawer.

“thank you.” i said. i look at isha. “you gonna help me, kid?”

she shakes her head “no” and jumps down. i laughed softly before looking at sevika’s reflection.

i sighed out. “okay… are you sure?” i asked her.

“yeah.” she sighed out.

“hm..” i took out the hair tie from her hair and let her hair fall to the sides of her face.

“uh… okay.. jinx, come here, i don’t know shit about cutting hair.” i said.

“no!” sevika protested. i slapped her shoulder.

“stop being a baby! damn! i’m just gonna have her tell me what to do.”

sevika huffs in relief as jinx walks over to us.

“okay.. let’s see… what’s the vision? what’ll make you wanna fall in love with her all over again?” she asks me.

i shrugged. “i love her like this.” i patted my hand on her head. she looks at me with a bored face.

“okay nevermind, bitch. fuck you.” i snapped. she laughs.

jinx hums in thought. “okay.. i got it. we’re gonna go short in the back, long in the front. sound good?” she says.

“i don’t know.. are you sure?” sevika asked.

“yes, just trust me. jeez..” jinx grumbled. i laughed as sevika was getting visibly nervous.

jinx guided me to cut off sevika’s hair in a way that so that it doesn’t look like a chopped mess.

i cut off the last of hair before jinx found a razor to use.

“whoa, hey, im not tryin’ for no buzzcut.” she protested.

“it’s just for the sides, you crybaby.” jinx said. she puts it in my hand.

“i don’t know how you put up with her.” she says. i laughed. sevika grumbled.

“it was funny.” i snapped.

“anyway, just relax, baby. it doesn’t look that bad.” i said to her.

we lightly shaved the hair on her sides before i finally finished.

“okay.. let me see.” she turned to face us with her new look.

“see? not that bad. you look... less terrible.” jinx said.

“yeah, not that bad.” i nodded.

i was lying, i was so wet, holy shit. sevika looked so good with her new hair.

the bangs falling on her eyes, her neck looking clean, ugh i needed her:

she checks herself out in the mirror and isha gives her a thumbs up.

“it’s.. good. thanks.” she nodded.

i took a quick breath before looking at jinx.

“alright, well, we gotta get home.” i smiled.

“already? it’s like.. 7. you don’t usually get outta here till late.” jinx said, glancing at her junky clock on her desk.

“yeah, i’m not tryin’ to run into any enforcers talkin’ about some “curfew.” i'm a grown ass woman, i'll go home when i want." i chuckled, lying about my intentions.

she scoffs. “i get it. see ya.” she waved at us as isha did the same, but more enthusiastically.

she signs “thank you for the makeup.” and i sign back “you’re welcome.” before waving to her.

i took sevika’s hand and dragged her out of the hideout.

“you’re in a rush.” she laughed as we walked onto the street.

i pushed her into an alley and pulled her neck down to kiss her. she kissed me back in surprise but leaned into it when my hands slid up her neck and into her freshly shaven hair.

“i’m so sorry i said anything before about not cutting it. you look so fucking good-“

“yeah?”

before she continued, i kissed her again, this time, she laughed softly against my lips.

i couldn’t stop staring at her the whole way home. we’ve been married for like two years and i feel like i’m crushing on her all over again.

i spent the night our my room letting her know just how good i thought she looked.

⍣ ೋ

a/n: her bob in s2 is so RARARGDHJBGIDWODHNPIDOBUO

[cyber333angel]

Hi, could you please write more Lumberjack Logan and farmer’s daughter reader. Maybe them sneaking into the barn to do it 🙈🙈

lumberjack logan howlett that just can’t get enough of the pretty young farmer girl. playing husband and wife with you everytime your fathers out of the house, fucking you so sweetly as if he doesn’t work under your roof for your father. it’s wrong, he knows that but he can’t do anything but give into temptation when you constantly tease him, prancing around the farm in short dresses and your cute brown cowboy boots. holding onto your braided pigtails as he plows into you, the both of you in the empty barn going at it as if logan wasn’t just invited to eat dinner with your family. whispering in your ear about how much of a good girl you are for taking his cock, talking about making you into his little farm wife and how cute you would be with a belly full of his kids. he has you pleading and crying for him to fill you up, agreeing to anything he says as your going dumb on his dick, pleasure taking over your mind. pulling your panties back on, making sure to keep every drop of his cum deep in your cunt as the two of you stroll slowly back to your house, holding hands. giving logan a quick peck on the cheek and letting go of his hand once you both reach the door, walking in together acting as if you two didn’t just make a mess in the empty barn behind the house.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

FANTASY

Based off of this! post.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!reader Summary: you surprise Eddie by dressing up as an elven princess from Dnd. Warnings: 18+ SMUT kissing, fingering, unprotected PIV (please be safe out there), oral (f receiving), body worshipping, teasing, a little nipple play, orgasm denial A/N: I have played Dnd once in my life, I do not know everything about it so please correct me if I get anything wrong about it.

Eddie sat up in bed re-reading the Lord of the rings The Two Towers for the millionth time as he waited for you to join him.

it was the first night of your honeymoon and it had been a long day and Eddie had done nothing but pepper you with love the whole day, being the gentleman he is and showed you exactly why you married him

you had been in the bathroom for quite some time, not that Eddie had seemed to notice, as he stuck his nose in a book he can't put down until you cleared your throat

he looked up to see you and his eyes widened as he got the sight of you leaning against the door frame with a seductive smile on your face

you were dressed in an elegant, fantasy-inspired gown in various shades of green, becoming darker as the skirt flows down, adorned with gold embroidery with a flowing chiffon cape that drapes over the shoulders.

your hair was down with a single braid tucked behind an elf ear you had placed on, and a golden headpiece atop your head.

you perfectly resembled an elven princess from Dungeons and Dragons, and he let his copy of TOTR fall from his hands and land on the floor by the bed

"Suilad ennas nin bein adan plural edain" you spoke, tilting your head mockingly as Eddie gulps and tries to find the words to say to you

He can already see it, your body on top of his, tangled in the sheets as you moan his name in pure bliss as he pleases you nicely.

the tent in his pants grew as he thought about what he would do to you.

you were the prettiest thing he's ever laid his eyes on, and it was all for him, for his benefit and dick seemed to understand that as it rose in his pants, so hard it was uncomfortable and almost painful.

he needed to have you; he needed to ravish you right this second after ripping the dress off your body, he needed to fill you up so good that it would risk getting you pregnant, and he wouldn't mind, not if it meant he could think back to this night.

he wanted it so bad, and he could tell you knew that as you smiled cockily, taking small strides towards him on the bed, your leg peeking out of the high slit in the skirt of the dress.

he wanted to sink his teeth into your plush skin just hard enough to leave a mark, he wanted to tear the dress to shreds whilst still on your body, leaving you look a mess, though you'd still be as stunning as now, stood in front of him.

"Holy shit" he mumbled to himself as he shifted in his place, unable to find the words to express how good you look, how much he wanted to tear you apart and fuck you until your dumb

but just as he leaned up and tried to kiss you, you stopped him

you pulled out a pair of dice from inside the bodice and dropped them onto the bed sheets beside him

"if you want to kiss me, you're gonna have to roll" you smirked, seeing his whole body twitch in anticipation and need

he looked up at you, the fire in his eyes made you feel weak in the knees as he adjusted himself, rubbing over his boner to ease the growing pain of eagerness

he fumbled over picking up the dice. looking at you before rolling it onto the bed sheets

he mumbled in victory before pulling you down and bringing you into a passionate, much needed by him kiss.

you find a comfortable position as he placed you on his lap, his hand finding its way onto your thigh, gently rubbing your skin, sighing at the feeling of your lips dancing together

his hands moved up, following the curve of your hips up to the bodice of your dress, cupping your breasts in his hands, managing to give them a squeeze before you pulled away, humming

"What do you want to do next?" you asked him, crawling off on his lap

he frowns as he thinks "I want to...take off your dress?"

"Then roll" you whispered in his ear, smiling as he shivers

he picked up the dice and rolled it, praying to the gods he got over a ten, wanting nothing more for the dress to come off so he could worship your perfect body

he cursed to himself when it landed on a two, looking up at you with innocent eyes, making you fake a pout

"looks like that'll have to wait, big boy" biting your lip, internally laughing at his face, laced with disappointment

He frowns "can we continue kissing?" He blinks, looking down at your lips

You pretend to think for a moment, tapping your chin, humming "mm. Let's ask the dice"

He grabbed the dice from beside him and rolls, immediately grabbing your chin, pulling you down, you didn't even have time to see what he got before you melted into the kiss, he slides his right hand down your chin to your waist. Pulling you down onto the bed beside him.

You open your eyes, taking a sneak peak at the dice on the other side of his leg. Pushing him away

"Eddie! That was a miss! You don't get to kiss me!" You faux anger before dropping your voice, your fingers trailing his chest, right over the O in 'dio', your fingertips running over the letter

"Does someone need to be punished for lying?" You tut, leaning in and whispering in his ear

He lets out a whimper, secret be told- he likes seeing you have such power over him, he likes being told what to do- he finds it so attractive on you, seeing you in such a way is making him so hard that he's finding it hard to focus when your tits are right there, in front of him, calling out his name, begging to be sucked on so nicely.

He can already hear the sounds of your pretty moans as you let him fuck you. He can see it, your tits bouncing as he pounds into you mercifully, showing you his frustration for teasing him, for making him wait, for making him roll a pair of dice just so he can touch you.

Eddie shakes his head "n-no I- I'm sorry I won't do it again"

He knows your version of punishment in this situation won't end in an orgasm on his end- he won't even be getting teased- your punishment will be nothing, you'll sit there, letting him learn his lesson for lying to you, letting him know what he did and that he should regret it. So he would rather not get that punishment tonight

"Why shouldn't I?" You tilted your head, almost mocking him

"Please? I- I know what I did was wrong" he looked down

You drag your hand over his legs, pressing against the tent in his pants before moving on, reaching for the pair of dice before picking them up, ignoring his sigh as you touch him

"Let's see if the dice thinks I should forgive you"

You roll the dice and smile "looks like it's your lucky day"

You asked him what he wanted to do and he tried again with taking off your dress, rolling the dice.

He looked over at you with his big doe eyes and a smile, you leaned over him, making sure the roll was a hit.

You raised your eyebrows. Slowly rising from the bed before standing in front of him.

You reach for the zipper on the side on the dress, letting it fall down your body as you stand in front of him, leaving you in only the cape and a matching green lingerie set.

You were so perfect, so pretty, so fuckable.

He shifts on the bed, leaning closer to the edge

You go closer to him, climbing onto his lap, smirking at his desperate face as he stares at your breasts right in front of his eyes

You lean in, placing a kiss on his lips. He runs his hands along your back, his thumb going under the clasp on your bra as his other hand reaches up and unclosed the Cape, taking the mesh away from your soft skin.

Before he has a chance to unclasp your bra, you stop him, slapping his arm away

You tut again, forcing the dice in his hands

"You forget about my little friends?"

He groaned and rolled it, he's so hard he's co fused as to why you haven't said anything, like you usually do, teasing him about the way he gets turned on just for you

He unclipped your bra and threw it across the room

Your run your hand through his hair as you slowly grind on his lap, subtlety rolling your hips against him

"What next baby?" You bite your lip, holding the back of his neck as you lean in, nibbling on his ear, loving the way he shivers against your touch

"I- I want to touch you...them" he mumbled, sounding almost hungry as he stares at your bare tits in front of him

he rolled the dice and instantly attached his hands to your breasts, giving them a little squeeze, his ears perking up as he heard a gasp fall from your lips as he pinched your nipples. they were always so sensitive against his rough padded fingertips teasing them, and the noises you made as he pressed his thumbs against them were so pretty, so pretty that he might say it was his favourite noise, music to his ears, he's said before.

the buds of your nipple were hardened against the hotel room's cold air and he smiled to himself as he thought about taken them into his mouth, licking and sucking on them as you whimpered and moaned his name, he knows you wouldn't be happy, not rolling the dice before making a move but he couldn't hold it in anymore, the swell of your breasts looking so appetizing to the point Eddie's almost drooling.

So he brought your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as he squeezed your other tit, smiling to himself as you whimpered when he bit down on the sensitive bud of your nipple

you mumble his name as you feel his hot tongue swirl over your breast, it feels so good that you don't have the power to stop him, you should give him this for being so good for you, and right now he's being so good.

he hums against your breast, still sucking and nibbling, now just moving to the left, sending vibrations through your body as your close your eyes, your hands finding his hair as he massages the soft skin of your chest.

you begin to grind on his lap, feeling his hard cock against your clothed heat, slowly growing wet, feeling the patch soaking your lace panties as you rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans.

"you're so beautiful" he mumbled as he pulled away for a moment before latching his mouth onto your neck, licking and sucking your sweet spot, being sure to leave his mark on you.

he nibbles on your collarbone as he hears a content sigh leave your lips before you find the strength the fight him, remembering the whole game of this

"who said you could do that?" you frown, glaring at him

he looks into your eyes with blown out eyes, looking like he's in a trance as he gaze lowers down to your plush lips.

in any other situation, he would have felt bad, he would have apologised and begged for forgiveness for going against you, but Eddie couldn't find it in himself to say sorry about it, cause he wasn't, why should he be sorry for wanting you underneath him, open for him as you moan his name

so he made the bold decision to ignore you, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips as he pushed you down on the bed, laying you flat on your back before pulling away

"I'll play your little game, but you're not in control here, doll"

before you could protest, he shoved two fingers in your mouth, making you hum in confusion

"Suck" he ordered as he picked up the dice, swearing under his breath before you giggled, gagging when he shoved his fingers deeper down your throat.

he went back to kissing your neck, sucking the places he hadn't only a few seconds prior. you had closed your eyes, relaxing on the bed as he began to use you, without your knowledge, Eddie had rolled the dice, trying again before taking his fingers out of your mouth

the string of spit connecting your lips and his fingertips before snapping when he pulled away too far, bringing his hand down your body, digging his hand into your lace panties, pressing his now soaked fingers to your clit, earning a gasp from you and you opened your eyes, seeing him shift down the bed, you feel his hot breath brush against your skin as his fingers hook around your underwear, pulling them down slowly, placing kisses down your body, gently biting at the skin of your hip as he removes your underwear, pulling them all the way down, flinging them across the room before planting wet, sloppy kisses over your lower stomach, rubbing the skin under your boob with his thumb as he rang his other hand back to your bare core, rubbing his fingers flat through your slick folds.

as you look down, lazily smiling at him loving on your naked body, you frown, noticing he has all his clothes on still.

"Eddie" you breathe, hearing his groan as he continues to pamper your body.

you reach down and pull at the collar of his shirt "take it off, baby"

"oh Elven Princess, Patience is a virtue" he tsks.

he chuckles under his breath as he begins slowly circling your clit, his fingertips gliding with delicious friction over the sensitive bud.

"this what you wanted, Princess?” he cooed, his voice mockingly sweet. You could feel his warm breath fan over you as he moved closer.

He couldn’t stop himself. he couldn't help but lean in and flick his tongue over it just once, just the slightest touch, and you let out a broken moan and wiggled under his touch.

He inhaled deeply, smelling your intoxicating scent.

he looked up from your pussy and made eye contact with him as you leaned on your shoulders, staring at him while he rubs over folds, not yet going in.

Eddie wrapped his plush lips around your clit and started to flick his tongue over the bud at a painfully slow pace.

You gasped and gripped the neat bedsheets. he always was good with his tongue.

His mouth was hot and wet, and the way he was looking at you with such love and lust, made the tightness inside of you start to grow in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie was in on cloud nine as he buried his face in your pussy, drinking your delicious and sweet taste.

With one hand on your hip, keeping you from wiggling around, he slid one of the fingers of his other hand into your throbbing entrance. Slowly, before adding another, not giving you any time to adjust before he carefully pumps.

He chuckled when you moaned at the feeling of him stretching you open.

you whined, gasping at painful stretch of your delicate skin he is currently abusing.

you squeezed his fingers so nicely, feeling every ridge and hearing every squelch as he curls his fingers inside you, his lips still attached to your aching clit, sucking harshly.

Soon the only sounds in the room were the wet clicks of your pussy, and your soft moans as you let your head fall onto the pillow beneath you, your eyes rolling back when he squeezed your hip

Eddie laid his tongue flat and wide as he lapped up your pussy and you couldn't help but whimper at the feeling.

Eddie’s cock throbbed in his tight jeans, so uncomfortable as he grinded against the mattress, trying to give himself the friction he so desperately needed as he ate your pussy so well for you

"Eddie.. I- mm...i'm gonna cum" you moaned sinfully

Eddie pulled away after humming, his fingers still pumping inside you, gaining speed to replace his tongue

"let's see if the dice wants you to, ay?" he growled, releasing your hip and grabbing the dice

"do you, dice, want this elven princess to cum f'me?" he asked the dice before rolling

you were in a trance, tightening your walls around his thick fingers as he pumped, too focused on trying to cum that you barely heard what your husband was saying, his voice sounding like a distant hum.

you let out a broken moan as you felt the tightness start to let go be tuts

"dice says no, sweetheart" he said, pulling away, making you whine and your whole body shiver as the tightness fades, leaving you frustrated

"what? no, please" you beg before looking beside you at the dice, frowning

"Eddie that was a hit?!" you huffed in slight anger

"was it? must've mistaken it- woah!" you said before you pushed him away, flipping him over so he's on his back

"you were never in power here, weakingling, the dice controls us" you glare at him

he stared up at you as you climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, you lean down to kiss him and just as your lips meet and he lean in, his eyes fluttering shut, you stop, tilting your head to the side, you grab his chin and point his head to the side as you bite his earlobe, steadying your breathing as your pull away, pulling him in for a kiss,

your press your lips against his before leaning away, biting his lip as you pull away, letting go to see his lips bounce back

"don't play with me, commoner. you don't know what i can do to you, what i will do if you play with me, so sit back and be a good boy for me, understand?" you question him fiercely

he nods his head as you pull his shirt over his head, taking it off befoe throwing it away, staring at his tattoos littering his body of show for you

you place your hands on his chest and lean down, playing a kiss on every tattoo on view, hearing his breath hitch when you place a delicate kiss to his newest addition you had only found out about a week after he got it, a few months ago, right below his right collarbone, over his heart was laced with a fine line ink, confirming the date on your wedding, it was so gentle, contrasting against every other tattoo on his body.

you had cursed at him for getting it, and he had questioned you for your hesitation, saying 'think we won't last? honey I'm planning on keeping you forever, js'wanted to have a bit of us on me forever'

it was crazy to think that was almost 6 months ago, you had been so stressed with planning and wanting every aspect to be perfect. and now, a day in to being married to him, your heart warming at the little touch of writing, a promise of commitment that he couldn't get rid of it he tried

Eddie's dick was still so hard, he could feel the precum staining his boxers until he was whining

you sucked on his skin, going up all the way to his neck, wanting nothing more to mark him. your hands find their way to his pants and fumble to undo his fly and push down his pants with the help of him, kicking the jeans off, the only thing keeping you from sitting on his pretty cock was his thin boxers.

you grind your hips on his, creating some sort on friction, you push him up so he would lean against the headboard, sitting up but still laying down.

his hands find your hips and guides your movements until you smack his arms away

"how dare you touch me without the permission of the dice" you spat

it gave you a rush, giving him orders and telling him off for things, you had done it before yes, but it always felt so good, giving you a thrill knowing it turned him on so good, he loved it, and he was never scared to show it

you gripped onto his hair and forced him to look into your eyes as he stares down at your tits bouncing

"You want these off, don't you?" you reach your hand down, snapping the elastic of his boxers on his skin as you pull them back

he gulps and hums out a response "uh-huh" he mumbled

"Beg for it" you howl, lowering your voice as you stare down at him

"Please take them off, I'll be good-" he starts before you cut him off

"don't beg me, beg the dice" you hold the dice in front of him

he sighed, looking down at the small shapes in your hand "please let her take my boxers off, I won't disobey you again" he pleaded

you roll the dice on his chest and grin wickedly

"Looks like the dice answered your calls" you huff before pushing them off his body, letting them roll to the side of him on the bed

you left yourself up and push his boxers down his legs, letting them fall off the side to the floor, you sit on his thighs just below his cock that sprung out, being let free from the aching pain of being stuck inside harsh fabric.

the precum leaking from his swollen tip is what sends you into a frenzy

"Such a pretty cock you got, commoner" you coo, reaching and slowly pressing your thumb to the head, chuckling at how it twitches in your hand

"Please, please I need you" he begged as he closes his eyes when you begin slowly pumping his dick

you pick up the dice shove them in your hand "roll"

he huffs and rolls the dice, moaning in victory

"You heard the dice, fuck me" he sighed, resting his head on the headboard

you roll your eyes and position yourself right above him

"Do not rush me, and do not command me, do you want to cum? you desperate human" you tut

you sink down on his cock and compress your whine when you let him fill your aching pussy

"Yes, yes I want to cum- I'm so sorry, princess, it won't happen again, I want to cum in you" he nods enthusiastically

you hum in satisfaction. you sit on his lap for a second, slowly rocking to get yourself adjusted before you slowly lift off and bounce back down

you place your hands on his chest to stabilize yourself

"c-can I touch you, princess?" he asked desperately

"I suppose" you huff, covering the fat you want his hands on you, helping you out to bounce on his dick, to give him pleasure

his hands find your hips yet again and you let him, loving the feeling of his rough fingertips against your skin

you rise and fall on his lap in a slow rhythm, slowly building pace as you feel more comfortable, the stretch of his big cock stuffing you nicely as he hits all the right spots, he's always reached the best of places, making you feel so full as he pounds into you

but being on top lets him reach so many more places

and before you know it, your pace is gradually getting faster and faster, your moans filling the sweaty air of the hotel room and he grunts, letting out small pleas and whines, whispering your name

he leans up, taking one of your tits in his mouth, biting at the sensitive bud of your nipple, hearing your gasp of pain but moan of pleasure.

you start rolling your hips in circular motions, trying so desperately to rub your clit against his pubic hair at the base of his cock.

he started the thrust up into you, matching your rhythm of pace, the sound of skin clapping together is all you can hear past his groans and your whimpers.

you focus on the feeling, letting your eyes roll and your head throw back as he reaches all the right places, he feels so good.

His hot wet tongue sucking and nibbling at your tit, and the harsh and rough feeling his hair feels grazing against your clit is aching.

Eddie releases your nipple with a pop! And leans up, digging his face in your neck, mumbling words of encouragement and praise into the shell of your ear.

Nothing can be heard but the squelching of his big cock thrusting into your pussy as you bounce up and down.

You pace has quickened and your moans are becoming breathless as you feel the tightness bubbling up in the pit of your stomach

Eddie groans as your walls tighten around him, squeezing him no nicely

Everything about this is driving him crazy, every moan escaping your plush lips, every slap of skin, every pornagraphic look on your face when he slams his dick so deep inside of you

God he fills you up so well, so well that you feel the pit inside of you grow.

Eddie can tell you are close just by the way you squeeze your dripping wet walls around him, coaxing him in your juices.

Eddie moans into the swell of your neck, biting on the soft skin

He leans away, his back leaning against the frame of the bed, one hand finding its way to the small of your back, just above your ass, eith the other remaining on your hip, gripping on to the sweaty skin and you pant and moan

Your hands find Eddie's chest again, your nails seeping into his skin, scratching his pecks. His thrusts are beginning to get sloppy and you know he's close

Eddie can't take his eyes away from you, he's so entranced by what you've done for him tonight, making the fantasy he didn't know he wanted needed come true.

You could feel his dick twitching inside of you and you smiled weakly

"Are you gonna cum f-for me?" You panted

He nods, not being able to speak as he watches your tits bounce with your movements, with your mouth hung open, letting out broken whines of pleasure

"Y-yes, p-princess" he winces "I-im gonna cum"

You smirk down at him "you reckon the dice will let you spill your seed into the elven princess?"

He whines, his climax about to reach breaking point, on the verge of spilling his load inside of you, painting your walls white.

You pick up the dice for the last time. Flicking them away, nor having the energy to roll, you glance beside you, looking at the numbers

"Cum f'me, Eddie" you let out, wanting his hot cum fill you up

You hold your climax in, wanting nothing more than to cum together.

"A-are you close?" He grunts, his palm flat against your back, pressing firmly as his other hand traces shapes around your hip.

You hum in response, not being able to hold it much longer as your thrusts grow tired "Please cum for me, Eddie"

He lets out a broken moan and mumbles intot the hot, sex filled air

"I'm gonna-"

You both moan in unison, each thrust and fall of your hips meeting in perfect harmony as you both let the tightness go.

Eddie hums as he spills his hot seed into you

And you let out a toe curling moan escape your lips as you cum on his dick, you juices mixing together, sticking to your thighs as it leaks out of your throbbing hole.

You hum, your climax fading away as you begin to go limp in his arm. He rides out your high as he pushes you closer to him, letting you lean on his chest.

After a moment, he's stopped moving, and you're left to catch your breath, listening to his rapid heartbeat as his chest rises and falls against your ear

"You're the best wife ever, you know that?" He sighs.

‐----------------‐-----------------------------

[kombuuuu]

Can I request Miles 42 bullies you at school and is always bothering you but he gets mad and tries to fight someone else who is bullying you because he’s the only one who can be mean to you😩😩‼️

Deflecting.

Earth42!Miles x Fem!Reader

“I would get your hands off her if I were you, homeboy.”

This one is kiiiinda violent, not by Miles mostly be warned C:

PART TWO !!

such a cute wife (throw me on an island to live in my delusions)

You were quiet, silent most days. Not stepping out of the very thick circle you’d made for yourself consisting of just you.

And yet, still.

Still, the mere thought of keeping to yourself as a permanent transfer student would make even the most daft of people scoff.

You weren’t anything special, you were void of attention, and happy that way. Acted appropriately and left anger at the door. Had nothing and no one to complain to, so why make problems for yourself?

You’re entire life was just floating along your schooling and waiting patiently for the day you left. Even if you were the rare case of “Got transferred half way through the year because the school saw potential!” girl, you’d just wanted to be left to yourself.

But even the premise of that seemed almost impossible now.

Because ever since you were pushed by some rushing kid straight into Miles Morales, tripping him over with you. Him and his asshole friends had made it their life mission to bother you.

“The cute new girl?”

“Yeah, the one that—,” The first boy glanced at Miles. “,—tripped on.”

“Oooh, shit—, She’s fucked.” The other man whispered back, laughing under his breath. You could feel his taunting stare at the back of your head, and when you checked your peripherals, Miles was sending a sickening glare your way.

You sighed.

—

The ache in your head was probably the only thing keeping you awake.

The day dragging longer than usual had you right about ready to get home and knock yourself out within a minute of being in your bed. Your hand slowly dragged down your face, taking a deep breath and stuffing your jacket somewhere in your locker. The heat of the school mingling with the temperatures the Summer was providing and then adding on the rain from the prior day? You cursed Brooklyn and its humidity. Reaching to close your locker, you finally fit the jacket in the already cramped space. A little piece of the fabric poked out, and you pushed it in while simultaneously trying to keep everything else in too. Pulling a face before you finally managed to get it shut, and slip your finger out before it can get trapped. You turned the key into the dumb metal and scowled at it before pocketing the key and turning to leave.

Being so engrossed in your feud with the locker, you had failed to realise the very man who’d given you this headache, leering over your frame. Turning straight into his chest and reacting in a pained groan, gripping your forehead in displeasure and glaring up at whomever was standing so close to you.

Which happened to be Miles Morales. Staring down at you with cold, dulled eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” The simmering anger in your voice was made known, and also promptly ignored. He tilted his head down at you, braids shifting with the movement, his expression barely changing. If only he had a conscience. Then maybe you could read his expression, the emotions on his face —, but in this universe? The thought seemed laughable.

He stepped forward, sending you staggering closer against your locker.

“Back off—,” You’re voice shook a little as you swore. Dropping his eyelids into a glare, he spoke, “You keep talkin’ to me like that, and we gon’ have a problem.”

“You keep creeping up on me like a fuckin’—,”

“Like a what?” Miles’s bored, taunting voice grated against your eardrums.

You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving, and clenched your jaw. Shaking out the annoyance in your bones, you kept your calm.

“Don’t get shy on me now.”

A surge of anger rose through you, before you willed it away.

He was antagonising you.

You tried not to instigate him. If you didn’t encourage it, maybe he’d go away.

“Never mind. Whatever, Why—,”

“Miles, my man.” A different man clapped him on the shoulder, giving you the chance to step back and away from him. The other man was tall and lanky, spindly in the way where he looked out of place for a high school. His blue eyes caught sight of you, smirk contorting the bridge of his nose and baring his teeth. “Fuck you doin’ with this thing?”

“What d’you want.” Miles diverted attention from you quick, his companion not getting the hint.

“Fuck, nevermind man,” The man sent a sleezy smile at you, looking you up and down slowly, a short whistle under his breath.

“Shut the fuck up, James.”

You glared are the taller man, something like bile clawing at your throat. The way he was talking about you was sickening, nothing more than a bothersome rodent.

Miles glanced at you, raising a brow, he wanted to see how long it would take before you’d finally fight back. Through the months you’d been at this school, not once had you actually lost your nerve.

On worse days, like this one, you gave him attitude. Snapping at him the moment he showed up, knowing if you didn’t, he’d take the chance too first. He looked forward to those days, where you would engage him. It sent some sick thrill through him. Watching the way your eyes unfocused, urging yourself not to roll them. How your composure surely chipped but never cracked, fingernails digging prints of a fine line when dug into your palms.

He watched your breathing stutter and counted your breaths with you, he’d basically memorised the pattern.

10 beats in, hold for 8, and 12 beats out.

Though, this was only on a good (bad?) day. Other days you just stood and took it. Letting him say whatever he wanted to you, talk shit right to your face. Spread rumours without repercussions and mess with you just because he had the urge.

And just like always. Through the heat of Summer and the full ache in your head, you managed to do nothing.

Just stand and stare as James acted like you were less to a piece of meat.

Miles scowled, dropping his shoulder and causing the man to fall from leaning on him. “Omf— Hey! What the fuck, dude.”

“Let’s go.”

James scoffed, rolling his eyes but following behind nonetheless.

“Miles, what was that shit about?”

“None of your fucking business, homeboy.”

Their voices faded as they walked away, the white noise of chattering people swallowing the scraping of James’s voice.

You wondered what Miles had really wanted this time, as he hadn’t gotten the chance to say anything with James showing up. You hate to thank him, but god. You might’ve lost your mind.

—

Four months in and you were losing your mind. Miles hadn’t stopped, neither had his determination. He seemed so eager to piss you off and do nothing but stare coldly as you composed yourself every time.

Just as that thought brimmed in your head, something kicked out in front of you, sending you flat on your stomach. Hands pressed into the hardwood of the gym below. You groaned, knees being knocked straight to the ground, landing with your arms outstretched in front of you. At least it wasn’t your face.

A voice was heard behind you and you froze, unsure what to do at that moment.

“Get up, [Name].”

James.

“Yeah, I’m—“ You shuffled back onto your feet. Standing up cautiously and checking your uniform was in place.

“Shut the fuck up.” He interrupted you, and you turned around slowly to face him. “Ever since I made it clear how little you were fucking worth, that dipshit Miles has been a fuckin’ dog to me.” He spat at you, the anger rising in his voice, he gripped the polo shirt you wore, dragging your limp upper half closer to his.

You shivered at his breath on your face, wanting to gag.

“Sorry.”

“You’re a fucking freak—.” His group of even more childish people were standing behind him like some sort of team work movement.

“Please let go.”

“I’ll fucking gut you. I needed that motherfucker—,” “Woah.” “,—He’s lucky I don’t beat his ass for ditching me.” Seems like attachment issues. “And you too, cunt. I’ll end your fucking life.”

He pulled you ever closer, using his height to intimidate you, six foot four of an angry man standing over you, no thanks.

A whistle was heard from the main room of the Gym, prompting James to let go of you.

“You’re lucky you’re a looker, call it pretty privilege.”

“..”

“Next time I’ll fucking kill you.”

You dropped from where you had been dragged onto your toes, stumbling a little as James’s group snickered when they walked past, bumping your shoulder and wolf whistling.

—

The lesson ended, and you rushed to get out of there. Making your way to the locker room, and being the first in there, also the first to leave. Changing from your sports uniform and rushing out of the Gym.

You kept looking over your shoulder, Knowing that James wasn’t lying. He probably would kill you, or, objectively worse.

You tripped over your feet before righting yourself again. People around sent curious looks to you which you ignored easily.

Getting to the front of the school, glass double doors shut with a “locked” sign on it, you continued to shoulder forward. Ignoring the shout of the office lady, you pushed against the metal bar and opened the door. You’d already known about the doors being unlocked constantly, having seen many times teachers trying to check no one was watching before slyly slipping out. So when the door opened for you with no trouble, you breathed out quick, and booked it.

You praised yourself for the amount of cardio you could do, the school was three stories for goodness sake, the amount of stairs you needed to climb was insane.

You slid to the side, dodging the occasional pedestrian and making it to the main gate, another shout was heard from the front of the school and you slipped out the gate just as it opened for another teacher, thanking them as you passed.

“Thank you!” You shouted as you ran.

“You’re welcome?— Oh..”

“Kid, Get back here!”

The office lady watched you hit the end of the street and turn, no longer in her sight. She threw her hands in the air and sighed.

“I’m going to get fired.”

“No, Marlene. I’ll cover you.”

“Thanks, John.”

“Why were they running, anyway?”

“Dunno, maybe AP exam.”

—

Miles watched as James was escorted back inside the building. His scowl etched onto his hideous face. Two of their shared buddies trailed behind him, rolling their eyes at the teachers questioning them.

One of the girls in his group was pressing against him, Miles getting more agitated by the minute. His disinterest in her only seemed to fuel her infatuation more, and it was getting annoying.

The guys at his table were all laughing at some—, probably sexist joke one of them made, the ladies giggling along with them, feeding their toxic lovers the attention they so desperately want. It’s not like Miles thought he was above these people. He just was. They were scum, but the only friends he could keep. Hurt people hurt people, and all that sappy shit. So when you hurt so much, only a small portion of people can stand you, and you them.

But when your name was mentioned, he perked up significantly — his ears fine tuning to the conversation. Completely forgetting about the raven-haired girl pressing against him, and focusing on the words spat by James and his two huevos.

“She’s hot though—,”

“Fuckin’ cares ‘f she is? Woulda beat her ass.”

“[Name]?”

“Yeah, [Name]. Miles got all fuckin’ sissy I thought she was hot, and now we don’t talk.”

“So?”

“So—!? Now I lost my chance with Imogen, she’s all fuckin’ over him cause I’m gone.”

Right, Imogen was her name.

“You want to beat her up over you losing a bitch? Just bag her instead?”

James rolled his eyes, debating it. Miles tensed, his relaxed posture straightened quickly, causing him to almost knock Imogen in the face. Too which she squealed at. An awful noise, really.

He quickly stood, chair falling behind him with a loud clang, and strode out of the hall, Glaring at James the entire time. His two friends laughed James’s sudden hesitance to respond, knowing how piss scared he was of Miles.

James stayed silent until the doors to the cafeteria closed, and the whispers started up. Then told his buddies off in a harsh tone.

No one had ever seen Miles do anything too bad. But with the amount of times he’s shown up to school with a busted nose and smug aura, you could tell—, whatever fight he’d had.

He’d won.

—

To say that Miles wanted to have the day away from school, probably wasn’t true. With the stuff he’d heard James and his dogs speil, he’d rather you not be alone.

He was—, worried.

But when his Uncle Aaron called him in for something urgent right at 4 AM, telling his Ma it was a work emergency, he couldn’t refuse his Uncle. He fit his mask onto him, faceplates slotting closed. Claws being turned and clicked into place, he flexed his hands, dragging the window of his room open in the early morning, and left with his Momma sound asleep.

—

The peace and quiet of the day had been rather disturbing. Not having Miles or any of his groupies bother you—. Was off, not unwelcome, but odd.

So when the bell rang for your fourth class, everyone heading from their lunch break back to their assigned classes, it was only by nature you’d be pulled into deserted corner of the school by some unknown figure. A hand placed over your mouth and the other gripping your wrist, pulling you back.

You struggled against the mystery person, a sickeningly familiar voice croaking in your ear.

“Be—,” You kicked your head back, knocking his jaw. “,—Fuckin’ bitch, be quiet.”

Your foot slipped under you, bringing him more leverage to haul you further from the light of the main hall.

You screamed through his hand, tears building behind your eyes when you heard a door unlock.

“Get in.”

“Fuckin—, Open it wider, dipshit.”

“Fuck off.”

James ripped his hand off your mouth before you could realise, pushing the middle of your back so you were forced into a dark, cold classroom.

You fell to your knees, a sense of déjà vu kicking in as you braced yourself with your hands.

Your chest heaved, James slamming the door shut.

“Keith, close those blinds.”

“Fuck are you gon’ do?”

“Beat the fuck outta her.”

—

Miles stuffed his claws somewhere in his locker, uncaring for secrecy. No one was there now, everyone having gone to class. He’d arrived fairly late, not an unusual occurrence considering his occupation, though. So the office ladies didn’t mind.

He slammed his locker shut, an image of you doing the same with a pout on your lips coming to mind. He had class with you now, sat right next to you, actually.

So he made his way towards the back block of the school, where you’d be.

—

A hit straight to your cheek sent you flying to the floor again, Mathew letting go of where he was holding you up.

“Dude your grip is shit.”

“Nod off.”

Keith muttered something about “Fucking brit..” from his seat on the prior teachers desk.

You groaned internally, eyes lolling to the closed curtains, the broken glass of the window letting in a sweet breeze. The only reprise from this entire ordeal was a broken window.

There’s some poetry in that, or something.

Blood dripped from your nose and lip. A cut on your cheek now present too. James, the creep, had rings on his thin fingers that, when used, hurt to no end.

You were picked back up by under your arms, closing your eyes in pain and hissing. You opened your eyes in time to see the small glint of metal in James’ pocket, and the wince on Keith’s face before another fist connected to your temple.

—

You weren’t there.

You had shown up to school, evident by your paper on the lecturers desk, but hadn’t shown up for the period.

And by the empty seats of James, Keith and Mathew. He could only guess what was happening right now.

Miles slammed the door to the class shut, ignoring the panicked yells of his teacher and started towards the darker parts of the school. Where no one used, a chemistry accident setting the safety board director deep in debt and a block of the school unusable.

He flung open his locker when close enough, snatching the prototype version of his claws from the locker. Small, sharp finger coverings that were something close to the claws he had for his Prowler suit. The knuckles were brassed and the wrist latch clasped easily to his skin. He slammed it shut again, not bothering with the lock, and honed in his hearing.

The walls were thin enough.

—

“Don’t you think this is a little too far?”

“Shut the fuck up, Keith.”

“Fuck you gonna do if she snitches—?”

He gripped James’s wrist, holding the knife away from both you and himself.

“—You gon’ ruin your life for this shit, man?”

“She’s been playing my fuckin’ nerves—, yeah.”

Keith gave him a bewildered look while Mathew stared on in disinterest, still holding you at a position you couldn’t right yourself.

The blood had stained your shirt now, bruising littering your face and body.

James had taken to ditching the knife.

“Fuckin—, Whatever man.”

It clattered to the ground with a large clang, the tiled floors of the science room made the echo ring in your head like the growing migraine.

“Drop ‘er.”

Keith glanced down at you, then backed off. An odd look on his face while he kicked the knife away from James, unintentionally pushing it closer to you.

He walked back to his seat.

Mathew let go, watching as you dropped to the ground and started coughing.

Choking on your own blood before you spat it out.

“You know how long i’ve been wantin’ to fucking do this?”

He raised his leg, tilting your chin up with his boot, how demeaning.

He swung back and kicked your ribs, sending you into another coughing fit while you fought the urge to throw up, tears streaming the blood dripping down your chin.

“Your family ruined my fucking life.” Another kick to your stomach, you gagged.

“Taking my dad, then my fucking girl too?”

What is this guy on about.

“Your fucking daddy couldn’t just mind his own business. Had to get involved, then you.”

A harder kick to your stomach, you clenched your abs and covered your head.

A sudden shock ran over you, a familiarity that always sat with James clicking in your mind.

James Ohnn, son of Jonathon Ohnn, a man who had a hand in the collapse of a still-in-construction Kaleidoscope that was said to bring revolutionary science to the new world. It’s framing shattered while the workers on it all went with it.

His father was the lead scientist of that Kaleidoscope, and by turn in of your dad, was promptly arrested.

“I didn’t do shit—,”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

He kicked your ribs again, and you swore you could feel them crack.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking ruined me.”

He swiped the knife again, Keith shouting something you couldn’t hear amongst the ringing in your ears.

You shut your eyes, crowding your head with your arms.

A slam broke through the muffles of your mind. Panicked voices and accusations being thrown around before a thick accent curled around your head.

Miles Morales.

“I’d get your hands off her if I were you, Homeboy.”

Miles approached slowly, checking your face while keeping his eyes on the three men.

“Fuck off, Miles.”

“No.” His head cocked to the side, eyes slanting while he assessed the situation.

“What, you gonna fight us?”

James’s voice was shaking. He’d never seen Miles looks o absolutely pissed before.

“Don’t think I can, asshole?”

“It’s three against one.”

“Realmente piensas—, sabes que, no importa.”

Miles lunged at him, Keith and Mathew shouting in tandem while you struggled to keep your eyes open. The pain working its way past your adrenaline and into your bones.

He grabbed James by the wrist, twisting it back and listening to the sickening crunch of his Lunate bone in curious satisfaction. James screamed, trying to tear his hand away from Miles. Even with his right hand pulling too, he wouldn’t budge. The metal clicked together every time James shifted, and Miles gave an extra squeeze before letting go. The force James was pulling sending him flying back, he stumbled and tripped over your feet, falling back and smashing his head on the tiles.

The other two boys scrambled for the door, running out the hallway and whining like dogs.

James groaned, rolling onto his stomach, Miles deadpanned down at him. You watched through blurry vision as Miles picked his up, sat him against the teachers desk, almost slumped against it. Grabbed his hair by his crown, slowly bringing his head forward, bending him at the waist. Before slamming his head back against the wood with a dull thud. He repeated this sick, prolonged process until James had fallen unconscious. Standing over him, then going to grab the knife laid a bit from you. You looked at him from your position, not unthankful, but still—, he was evidently a contributor.

“Don’t move.”

“Wha— Why? I have to get home.”

Miles scoffed, crouching down next to you, knife in hand. His limp wrists resting on his bent knees.

“You gonna’ go home with a cracked rib and busted face? Nah, Chiquita. Vente conmigo, yo te arreglo.”

He stuffed the pocket knife down the side of his Nikes and took off his claws, putting them in the pocket of his jacket.

He hooked his arm under your knees and upper back, cradling you bridal style before standing to his full height.

You panicked a little— “Wha—, No. Miles, put me down.”

“No.”

“Hh— Whatdyu’ mean ‘No’!?”

You hooked your hands over his shoulders and gripped him as he made his way through the back exit of the school.

“I said, I’m taking you home.”

—

You groaned in pain, shirt lifted to just under your bra line as Miles assessed the damage.

He had been joking when he said cracked rib, but there was an underlying sense of real possibility. According to him though, nothing had been enough to seriously injure you. Except the disgusting looking bruises littering yourself.

You tried to focus away from the pain. Or Miles in general, he was very distracting, the lingering attraction you had when you met thought to be squished, was bubbling up again.

He had an ice pack pressed to your skin, and if you were a tad less conscious, maybe you would’ve made a joke of how cold his hands already were. The sweltering heat doing nothing to soothe the bruising.

“Keep this here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Watch the attitude.”

You huffed a breath, laugh being painful.

“Yeah, whatever.”

You shifted yourself to alleviate some pain, and took his place holding the pack on your stomach.

He grabbed an anti-septic from the small kit he had for first aid. When he’d pulled it out earlier, you’d questioned it.

“You get injured women on your room often, Miles?”

“Nah, Just you. Usually they can take care of ‘emselves.”

You’d giggled at that, not entirely offended but more so amused he’d decided not to take offence at your jab.

His hands reaching for your face brought you back to the present. Flinching back in surprise, you watched him watch for a moment. “Chill, ma. Just gon’ put this on your cuts. Needa’ touch your face for that.”

You cringed, the twisting of your lip having you suck in a harsh breath. “Yeah—, yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Mhmm.”

The callouses in his hands were made known the moment he touched you, spreading the cream along the cut on your brow, cheekbone and lip.

His hands were a nice contrast compared to the heat of your cheeks, and the gentleness at which he was using.

When Miles touched your face, leaning his body closer to yours, he wanted to savour the feeling. The softness of your flesh against his own, how he could trace the contour of your cheek without it being awkward. His thumb rubbed a small amount of cream onto your lip and he couldn’t look away. The sight of your blood stained skin under his blemished hands had him stuck in the moment. Unable to answer her last question.

“Miles?”

The way her lips formed around his name sent a burning heat throughout his body.

“Yeah—.”

“Is my lip okay? ‘M I gonna need stitches?”

You poured up at him and he shook his head. “No.”

“Mmh— Okay.”

You looked to the side, addressing his room and Miles watched the way your eyelashes brushed along your cheeks when you blinked.

“Okay, just this left. Gonna be a little cold.”

“Thank you.”

“No stress, Chiquita.”

He grabbed some petroleum jelly, spreading it along the cuts on your face and moisturising the wound.

He then placed adhesive bandages along the places necessary, and placed everything back into his first aid.

“Miles.”

“Yeah, Mami?”

You paused at the name, he’d been using those a lot lately.

“How’d you know to find me?”

He looked down, shuffling up next to you against the headboard. You gazed out the window, ignoring the tension that was eating at the both of you. He did too.

“Gut feeling.”

—

DAMN BABY THIS ONE GOT WILD

tags :3 @gemma42 , @denuparxoume

my gorgeous translator @kissmxcheek !!

[prettyfastcars]

Darkest little paradise | Mob!Lewis

Summary: You and Lewis are childhood best friends. You know him better than anyone, and you’re one of the few people he actually trusts fully. But Lewis has been keeping secrets from you. And when you find out exactly what he's been hiding, nothing is ever the same again. 

Themes: mob!lewis, angst, smut, possessive!lewis, virgin!reader, fluff, slight degrading kink, explicit language, slightly dark!mob!lewis, friends to enemies to lovers ish

Out of all places, he didn’t expect to find you out on your balcony drinking by yourself. 

Lewis had received a phone call from your very worried father earlier, the latter told him that you weren’t picking up any calls, and asked him to check on you to see what was wrong. Your parents were travelling and they were worried about you being alone when they suspected that you were upset. 

Lewis was confused as to why you didn’t reach out to him if you were really upset. Usually you texted him regarding every minor happening throughout the day. 

“Hey, princess,” He called out gently, stepping out onto the penthouse balcony to join you. “Your dad called me, he wanted me to see how you were doing. Everything… alright?”  

Dumb question, he knew. Of course nothing was alright if you were out here drinking alone. You looked like you had been crying too. Puffy red eyes, dried tears on your cheek. It was night time, and the city sparkled below like a shimmery tapestry. Yet you looked devastated, like you couldn’t even bring yourself to admire the citylights. 

The moment you looked up and met Lewis’ eyes, you felt like running into his arms and crying again. Lewis had always been your safe place. You two grew up together. Your families had been friends for decades. Your father and Lewis did business together, both of them powerful, feared, and respected in this city. But to you he was just your best friend. He was there right beside you for everything; school, high school, uni, graduation, vacations, all your good days and bad days, everything. 

But you knew you would feel dizzy if you got up so you remained seated on the lounge chair, sipping on more wine. You were one and a half bottles down. 

When you remained quiet, Lewis walked up to you and stood by the chair just watching you. He could tell you were a bit drunk, but the bottles of wine weren’t his main concern. 

He was more bothered by what you were wearing. 

Your families had been on enough vacations around the world for Lewis to have seen you in all sorts of swimwear. But right now, as you were dressed in nothing but dark red, lacy, see-through lingerie, it felt risqué and intimate. Thankfully you had a satin robe on, though it didn’t leave much to the imagination. It was driving Lewis insane. He had to clench his fists and take a deep breath in order to get his brain to function properly, and not be distracted by the amount of skin that you were showing. 

Did someone, other than him, see you like this? 

“Why are you dressed like that?” He tried his best to keep his displeasure hidden, but if you had been sober enough you would’ve surely caught the bitterness and jealousy in his voice. 

You looked up at him, and sighed. Everything seemed blurry in your drunken state. 

“You look so handsome,” You murmured, then chuckled humorlessly. “Were you out doing scary things while looking insanely good again?” You teased, and sipped on your wine again. He did look good, then again he always did. But right now, dressed in an all black suit, his braids tied into a low ponytail, his chains and rings… “Your nose stud looks extra sparkly tonight.” You commented, hiccuping after. 

Lewis let out a sigh, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Why are you dressed like that? And why are you drinking alone? Did something happen?” He asked. 

That made you tear up again as his questions allowed the hurt to come flooding back in again. After a few seconds of silence, you answered, “I had a date tonight.” 

“What?” Lewis’ blood pumped faster than ever. 

You repeated, sounding more upset than earlier and on the verge of crying. “I had a date tonight.” 

He waited for you to give him more details, unsure of what to say. 

You continued, beginning to slur a little. “We were gonna have a cute date night. I made dinner, I got all dressed up,” You went to take another sip of wine but Lewis snatched your glass from you, and the look in his eyes told you that you weren’t getting that glass back. You sighed and resumed talking, “But he didn’t show up. I texted him, I called, I waited for an hour. Then his text came and he said he doesn’t feel like he’s ready for a relationship and what not.” 

“Well, at least he didn’t waste your time.” He said, trying to sound supportive. “If he didn’t like you, then–,” 

You cut him off, “I don’t care about being liked. I wanted him to fuck me.” 

Lewis froze again. His hand around the wine glass tightened to a point where he thought it might shatter but it didn’t. “Is that why you’re wearing that?” 

You rolled your eyes at him dramatically, “What do you think, Lew?” 

His hands were shaking. He didn’t know how to react to that. The two of you had been close all these years, but this was new territory. “Let’s get inside.” He said, already walking away expecting you to follow him. 

But you didn’t move. 

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked, making Lewis stop and turn around to face you again. Once you met his eyes again, you asked, “Why does this always happen to me?” You sniffled, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks. “Am I not pretty enough?” 

Lewis sighed and walked over to where you sat. He placed the wine glass down and grabbed you by the arms, pulling you up. He kept an arm around you because he knew you’d be dizzy. “Who said you’re not pretty, princess?” 

You looked at him with teary eyes. “Then why doesn’t anyone want me?” 

He pulled you closer, looking at you with soft eyes. “Maybe he’s an idiot. Maybe he’s–,”

“But it’s not just him.” You sniffled, followed by a sob. “Everyone I’ve ever dated, they…” You hiccuped, “No one ever wants me. Everything feels great on the first dates, but then something always happens and they just… leave. Most of them never even tell me why, they just ghost me.” 

Lewis kept his poker face on as you wrapped your arms around him, finally feeling safe enough in his arms to cry your heart out. You sobbed, not worried about how your nearly naked body pressed up against him. You didn’t know you were driving him mad. 

“I just wanna feel wanted. And desired.” You cried on his shoulder, and he hugged you until your sobs fading into soft sniffles. “I want to experience things too, I deserve it, don’t I?” Lewis’ arms were warm around you, and that was all you needed. “I just wanna feel pretty.” 

“But you are pretty.” Lewis said, his voice soft and quiet. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.” 

You were quiet for a few moments, then said, “But even you don’t want me.” 

Lewis froze for a moment, then pulled away quickly, cupping your face so you’d look at him. “What’s gotten into you?” 

More tears fell down your face silently, Lewis wiped them away. This was way different than all the times he comforted you. There was a line you were both crossing here and you both knew that. 

“If we weren’t best friends, and if I’d let you–” 

“You’re drunk.” Lewis cut you off. 

But you continued, sniffling. “Would you? Would you want me, Lew? Am I pretty enough for you?” Before Lewis could answer, you grabbed his hand and guided it over to your chest. Another fell down your cheek. 

“Stop.” Lewis warned. 

“Please…” You whispered, placing his hand over the lacy material covering your breast. The warmth of his hand made you shiver. “I’d let you do anything.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. 

Lewis fought himself to remain in control. He could feel your racing heartbeats, your warmth and the softness of your skin. You were upset and hurting, and if he did anything, it would be wrong because clearly you weren’t thinking straight. 

One moment he was looking at you like he was in pain, and the next he pulled his hand away from your chest and wrapped it around your throat instead, making your eyes widen at the sudden rough movement. 

“Stop saying shit like that.” He hissed, in a lowered voice he had never used on you before. He tightened his grip around your neck just enough to have your full attention. “Now get inside, take this fucking outfit off of you and get some sleep.” His dark brown eyes stared into yours. “Stop acting like a needy brat, and do as I say.” 

With that he let go of you, pushing you away carefully. You wiped your tears and basically ran inside your penthouse. 

Lewis stayed out on the spacious balcony for a while longer, mainly to calm himself down but also waiting for his throbbing erection to calm down as well. Fuck. He wasn’t expecting that. 

After a while, Lewis walked back into your penthouse. He went straight into your bedroom and found you sulking in bed. Thank fuck you were not wearing that flimsy lacy thing anymore. It looked like you had had a shower as well. 

He grabbed a cold water bottle from your mini fridge and brought it over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed as he handed it to you after taking the cap off. You accepted it quietly and took a few sips. 

He noticed you were avoiding his eyes. “Talk to me.” He said. He hated it whenever you two fought or argued, which you very rarely did. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally whispered, “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“I know. You don’t have to apologise.” He stood up, and said, “Look, I have to fly somewhere for work. I’ll see you back at your father’s house in a few days, okay?” 

Every fortnight Lewis and your dad got together to discuss business, and your families used that as an excuse for a get together each time. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes. 

“Hey,” Lewis bent down and tapped you on the nose playfully. “Don’t worry too much. Get some sleep, you need it.” 

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, and didn’t leave until you gave him a faint smile back. 

—

Lewis couldn’t get that night out of his head. He was being plagued with what ifs. What if he had taken your offer? What if you two had slept together? Would you have woken up and regretted it? What would have happened if you found out that he was responsible for scaring away every man who ever tried to date you? Would you hate him? Would he lose you? 

No. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend. All he ever wanted was to keep you away from assholes who could never treat you right. One of those assholes being that guy who turned you down that night he found you drinking on the balcony. Lewis was the reason behind that text the guy sent you. 

He hated it, indirectly being the reason behind why you were upset after each failed relationship. 

Which is why he swore to never let you know what he did behind your back each time a man showed even the slightest bit of interest in you. He would never let you know how he stalked them. How he found every dirty secret about them and held it over their heads. How he often had to get physical and anonymously beat them up. How he followed and kept an eye on you from a distance each time you went on a date. 

But he couldn’t tell you the truth, could he? He couldn’t tell you that he was the one who threatened every boyfriend you’d ever had. He could tell you that he told them if they touched you, he would kill them. He couldn’t tell you that he had been doing that since you had your first boyfriend in high school. 

He had lost count of how many times he’d followed the men home and held his gun to their heads until they deleted your number and promised to leave the city. He hated that you got hurt in the process, each time. But this was necessary, wasn’t it? 

After all, you were his. Why should anyone else have you? 

He had waited his entire life for you to see him in that way. For you to realise that he was right there, and that he could treat you right. What sucked the most was that the first time you ever showed interest in him in that way, that night on the balcony, you were not sober at all. Lewis felt like an afterthought. And he hated it. 

But he was a patient man. He had waited years, and he would wait some more if that’s what it took for you to see him in that light. 

—

Your families, as per usual, got together at your father’s mansion for your biweekly lunch. Lunch and business talk were just excuses anyway. All of you just used the time to catch up, cook together, lounge by the pool, play games. And it always, always ended up becoming like a weekend getaway for everyone. 

Lewis looked forward to it, as he always did. Not to discuss business with your father but just to see you. When you were kids you two used to never sleep during these weekends. You’d build forts, and get lost in the hedge maze and play by the pool for hours. As you got older, playtime turned into movie nights. 

But this weekend, something was different. 

“Hi dad, hey Lewis!” You called out, looking happier than usual. Which Lewis found weird because less than a week ago you were drinking alone on your balcony, nursing a broken heart. 

Both men looked up at you, replying to your greeting from where they were sitting in your father’s office. But you breezed past them, disappearing down the hallway faster than Lewis could ask what had you in such a good mood. You were almost skipping. 

He made a mental note to ask you about it over lunch later. 

But he never got to do that since you were completely engrossed in your phone at the lunch table. And everyone kept talking to him and he had to reply to them mindlessly all while his entire attention was on you. Especially since you kept smiling down at your phone. 

A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind. And he hated every single one that had to do with you being involved with another man. He decided he’d confront you about it later. 

–

By the time Lewis managed to get to alone to talk to you, it was already night time. He’d missed dinner because he had important phone calls to take. And by the time he returned back to the dining room, everyone was drunk and you had already left. 

So here he was now, waiting for you in your bedroom. When you were younger, Lewis used to make fun of you for having an all pink room. After all, your father’s mansion was a behemoth, Georgian style mansion, complete with luxurious dark interior, all except your girly pink room. 

So then one day you got tired of his teasing and demanded an all black and gold room. You were fifteen then, and now many years later, the room hadn’t changed one bit. 

Lewis was looking around, noticing everything that hadn’t changed in many years, when you walked in. Still with that big smile on your face. 

“Oh hey Lew, ready for movie night?” You closed the door behind you and began dimming the lights, already searching for the TV remote. “Should we watch a musical?”

Meanwhile Lewis was standing there, in the middle of your room, looking all confused. Finally he asked, “What is going on with you?”

You kept lifting the cushions on the sofas, looking under them to find the remote as you mindlessly asked, “What do you mean?” 

“Stop.” He called out, wanting your attention. “Look at me!” 

That tone of his made you stop. This was the second time he’d used that voice on you now. The first time was that night he found you drinking alone. 

You turned to face him. You were used to this, him standing in your childhood bedroom, wearing nothing but his usual sweatpants, braids untied. Lewis had always been handsome, yet right now as he looked at you with a strange anger in his eyes, you couldn’t focus on anything else. 

“What is it?” You asked, leaning against the sofa for support as Lewis’ eyes stared deep into your soul. He was your best friend, but you had seen the way he worked. You knew why he was so feared and respected. Lewis could be intense sometimes. 

“You just seem…,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Happy. All of a sudden. I mean, I found you heartbroken on your balcony just a few days ago and now you’re basically skipping with joy all over the place.” He said it like it was the most odd thing he’d ever seen. 

“Oh Lewis,” You chuckled. “Maybe I am happy.” You said, moving away from the sofa and stepping closer to him. “I wasn’t gonna sit and let a man decide if he wanted me or not. I thought maybe I should take matters into my own hands and, you know, get out and find what I want on my own.” 

Lewis frowned. “What does that mean?” His heart began racing again. He’d been away these last few days, and he was just now realising that you had barely texted him at all. 

You avoided his eyes with a coy smile and said, “My girlfriends and I went clubbing the other night,” You looked up at him with a mischievous smirk, “And there was this guy, and he seemed really nice, and…” You trailed off, smirking some more, “Well, you know, we kind of hooked up in his car and–,” 

One moment you were talking, and the next Lewis had you pinned to the nearest wall. His tattooed hand wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place as he leaned in with a murderous look in his eyes. 

“Who the fuck touched you?” He whispered, looking like he was trying really hard to keep his anger contained. “Just give me a name, and I swear I will–,” 

“So it was you.” You cut him off this time, your voice shaky and your eyes beginning to tear up. 

Lewis frowned. 

“This whole time, you’re the one making decisions about my life.” You watched how his face fell when he realised that you figured it out. “You had no right, Lewis.” 

“Yes I did.” He argued, leaning closer. “Now tell me who the fuck touched you?” 

You hated him at that moment. But his scent was familiar, his touch was warm as always. He was still that person who held you each time you crumbled down. He was still your best friend, but you were angry. 

“No one did. I had a theory, I wanted to see if it was true so I lied.” You sighed. “I never went clubbing, I didn’t hook up with anyone.” You explain. “ You know, I always wondered why you never seemed bothered like a true friend would each time I came crying to you about how I got stood up, ignored, or ghosted.” You scoffed, “Turns out it was you who hurt me each time.” You accused. “Why couldn’t you let me be with who I wanted?” 

“No one was ever good enough for you.” He whispered, his face just inches away from yours. 

“That’s not for you to decide, Lewis!” You sniffled, then raised your voice. “I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want to be. I can sleep with whoever I want to–,” 

“No.” He said calmly, like he was stating facts. “You’re mine. They don’t get to touch you.” 

You struggled against him, and he loosened his grip around your neck a little but pressed his body against yours, keeping you trapped between himself and your bedroom wall. “I thought you cared.” You whispered. “Thought you wanted me to be happy.” 

Lewis pressed his forehead against yours, his other hand holding you at your waist. “You will be happy. You’ll be the happiest girl in this world.” He added, gently. “With me.” 

The audacity in his voice pissed you off. You shoved at his chest, managing to only push him an inch or two away. You forgot just how physically strong he was, but you were too angry to care. 

“I decide who I want to be happy with!” You yelled at his face. The mansion was big enough that no one else would hear you two arguing. “You don’t own me like you think you do!” 

Lewis chuckled, in that arrogant way of his, with his nose in the air. “You are mine.” 

“Why? Because you think so?” You scoffed, shaking your head at him. “What did you do to them anyway? Scare them off? Use them as punching bags? Throw them in your torture dungeons that I pretend don’t exist?” You never thought you’d ever say these words to him, but you didn’t care. He crossed a line. 

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Maybe I did worse things, I had to get rid of so many boys I had to get creative.” Lewis gave you a dangerous smile, “You know I would do anything for you.” 

Those words, that voice, it sent shivers down your spine. “Lewis.” You warned, your brain seemed to just realise that this man was more than just your best friend. He was, after all, known for his ruthless ways. 

He smirked, stepping closer to you again. One hand on your waist, the other grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His bare chest pressing against yours, only separated by the thin material of your PJ top. Your breathing got shaky, your brain got foggy. There was an unfamiliar tension in the air this time. It felt tangible the moment he easily shoved his thigh in between your legs. 

“What is it, princess? Now you’re scared of me?” He sounded cocky, and powerful. 

You stared into his big brown eyes. “I hate you.” You said, lying to his face. His handsome face. Flawless, like the rest of him. 

“Why?” Lewis smirked, “Because I kept assholes who would waste your time away from you? I’d say I did my duty as your friend. Isn’t that what friends do? Protect each other? Hmm?” 

You hated how he talked to you in that condescending tone. Mostly you hated how that tone made your body tingle. “I’ll tell my dad what you did.” You realised that only made you sound naïve. 

Lewis chuckled, “He’ll just think you’re throwing one of your bratty fits.” 

“I hate you, Lewis.” You repeated. 

“Oh you do?” He raised an eyebrow at you, mocking you. “I’ll believe you when you stop humping my thigh like that.” 

Your face burned when you realised that you’d been grinding on his thigh without thinking ever since he shoved it in between your legs. You froze and tried to push him away again but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Where are you going?” He said as you struggled against him. “What about this?” He pointed at the damp patch you left behind on his thigh. Your face burned even more as you looked at it. “Won’t you let me take care of that for you? Clearly your pussy is crying for attention.” 

“I don’t want you to touch me.” You didn’t sound convincing at all when you said it. 

That look in his eyes, his soft lips, the familiar scent of his, all that golden skin on display, the tattooed, rough hand holding your face… he was making it hard for you to think straight. And he knew. Judging by that smug look on his face, you could tell he knew. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “I remember perfectly well how just a couple of nights ago you almost begged me to fuck you.” He teased, “You even said you’d let me do anything to you.” He chuckled dangerously, like a villain. “Bet you would’ve even gotten on your knees and begged for me properly if I asked you to. You were that desperate for some cock in you. Do you remember that, princess?” 

His words made you breathless. On one hand he had crossed some boundaries, on the other he was giving you exactly what you craved, making you feel wanted and desired in his own dark, twisted ways. 

When he pressed his body against yours even more, you could feel something hard pressing against your abdomen. You gasped, looking into his eyes which were filled with a kind of hunger you had never seen before. It made you want to clench your thighs together, but with his legs in between yours, you couldn’t. 

“You feel that?” He rolled his hips in a way that made you very aware of his erection. “This is what I had to deal with for years whenever I was around you, always hoping and waiting you’d see that we belong together.” He confessed. 

“Lewis…” You couldn’t recognise your voice, it was so full of desire and need. But then you remembered what he did, and it felt like you sobered up and broke out of whatever trance he had you under. “You hurt me. For years.” 

“I did it for your own good,” He stated. “For us, can’t you see that?” 

“What you did was selfish.” You hissed, you placed your hands on his chest to push him away but the warmth of his skin made you pause. You could feel his heartbeats under your palms and just for a moment, you let your hands wander. Trailing up and down his toned abs, fingers tracing his tattoos. “It was mean,” You whispered bitterly, “Friends don’t treat each other like that.” Your actions didn’t match the way you reprimanded him. 

“I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat. 

“Neither do I.” You retorted. “Not after this bullshit of yours.” 

“You don’t get to push me away like that.” He grabbed you by the hips and pressed you even harder against him. 

You snapped, “You don’t get to make decisions about my life.” 

You opened your mouth to berate him some more, but he shut you up by pressing his mouth to yours, kissing you rough and hard like he hated you. 

You couldn’t control your hands anymore, you wanted to touch him and feel his warm, muscular body under your fingertips. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his hands slipped under your shirt, sliding up till he cupped your breasts, squeezing them in his large hands until you moaned even louder. 

His touch made you wild, enough for you to bite on his full lower lip until he hissed. Your hands sliding up and down his muscular chest, feeling every hard muscle. Fuck. He felt good. 

Flashes of that night filled your brain again, how you begged him to fuck you. And how he didn’t. A rush of anger took over you. 

“Why do you have to be so fucking moody?” You whispered against his mouth, as you pulled away to catch your breath. “If this is all you wanted then why didn’t you fuck me when I asked you to?” 

He smirked at the sudden dominance in your voice. “You mean when you begged me to?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You snarled. 

Your words made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his pretty, warm brown eyes. How had you missed the way he looked at you all these years? 

“Oh? You’re using your big girl words now.” He taunted, mocking you with that smug smirk of his. “Admit it, you’re angry and you still want me to fuck you.”  

You were about to sass back at him but he grabbed your hand, moving it down his body, mimicking how you made him touch you that night. Lewis made you slide your hand past the waistband of his sweatpants, slowly, holding your stare as he had you wrap your hand around his erected cock. 

You breathed heavily now, lips parted as you looked up at him while instinctively giving him a gentle squeeze. He frowned and groaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever, “Fuck, princess…” 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t almost forgive all his wrongs right there and then. Lewis let out some more strained moans when you slowly slid your closed fist up and down his cock, feeling it throb and twitch in your hand. You watched his face carefully. How he clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes, how his frown deepened when you explored and teased him with your hand. 

“Lewis…” You didn’t realise you were panting in need as you touched him. 

He opened his eyes and stared into yours. His hand wrapped around your neck again, hard enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Tell me you want me,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing along your jaw occasionally. “Beg me to fuck you like you did that night.” 

“I begged.” You chuckled this time, squeezing your hand around his cock again, enjoying the sounds he made. “You had the chance, and you didn’t fucking take it. Now, what if I don’t want you anymore?” 

Lewis scoffed and placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like he was hungry for it, biting your already swollen mouth. “Is that so? Shall we check, then?” 

He barely gave you time to think before he dipped his hands down your shorts, into your underwear until he felt the wetness gathering in between your legs. You shivered, moaning into the messy kiss as he moved his fingers around. 

He smirked, pulling away to look at you, holding your stare while his fingers gently inspected your wetness, teasing you, bringing you on the verge of begging for more. “That doesn’t feel like you don’t want me, princess.” 

You hated that mocking tone of his. It made you want to scratch at him like a feral cat. “Fuck you.” You hissed, unable to do much now that his finger threatened to slide deep inside you with how he kept toying with you. 

“Alright,” He pulled his hand away, “Come here then.” 

Lewis pulled you away from the wall and easily pushed you down on your bed, standing at the end of the bed to watch you for a moment. You watched him too. He looked like a fucking god. A muscular, heavily tattooed, handsome god. 

You almost gulped when you noticed he was eyeing you like you were the sacrifice left on his altar. Like he was ready to satiate his hunger. 

“You’re just gonna stare?” You couldn’t help the bratty words from leaving your mouth. Mainly because you knew that would get him moving. Having him just standing there watching you like that was painful because you wanted him so bad. 

Lewis crawled on top of you, grabbed you by the neck and said, “If you want my cock, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?” 

You glared at him, “I fucking hate how bossy you are.” You spat at him, already squirming under him. 

“And I hate how bratty you are.” He said, straddling your waist as he tore your shirt off your body, throwing it behind him. 

With no bra on, you instinctively went to hide your body from him. But Lewis grabbed your hands and pinned it above your head, securing your wrists in his one hand while the other cupped your breast. 

“You don’t have to hide from me, princess.” He whispered, kissing along your exposed neck. “It’s just me.” He playfully nipped at your neck and you moaned and squirmed under him, your brain already malfunctioning at his brief touch. 

“Don’t think that I’ve…” You gasped when he kissed around your ear, “forgiven you.” You whispered, breathless already, with shivers dancing down your spine. 

“Really?” He whispered, kissing his way down your body until he took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. He bit, and sucked on your skin, making your back arch off the bed as you whined in pleasure. “Haven’t you?” 

Your hips moved on their own, in a way they never had before. You were desperate for more, but were too proud to ask for it. Lewis lightly grazed your nipple with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan. One which made you want to hide your face in embarrassment after it escaped your mouth. 

“No, and I never will…” You muttered under your breath, still whining in pleasure as he played with your body. 

Lewis smirked as his hand reached down in between your legs. He lowered your shorts and underwear until you could easily slide your legs out of them. Your desperation was showing and he couldn’t stop smirking. 

You wanted to slap it off his pretty face. But you didn’t. You watched how he spread your trembling legs apart and settled in between them. You gasped in surprise when he lowered his face down until his mouth was inches away from your clit. 

This was new to you, and it made you a little nervous. 

He could tell. 

“Keep your legs right there for me.” He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more. “Now stay still, don’t move.” He whispered against your skin as he kissed your inner thighs. His warm breath caused goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. He looked up at you and smirked when he noticed it. 

You held yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him in anticipation. 

“No one else is gonna touch you like this, you hear me?” He leaned down, kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. 

You shivered as you felt his tongue stroking your most sensitive parts. No one had ever even gotten close to touching you there. Lewis made damned sure of that after all. All so he could have all of you. 

“You taste better than I imagined…” Lewis chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” 

He wrapped his big arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your legs, making you whine as he tasted you. 

“Oh fuck, please…” You cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Beg for it.” He whispered against your wet skin, making you hiss in pleasure. “Beg me to make you come.” 

You could feel your wetness trickling out of you, one drop at a time. Of course you had masturbated before but it never felt this good. No toy ever came close to how good his tongue felt slowly fucking in and out of you. 

You tried to grind on his face to make yourself come. But Lewis pulled away smirking each time. 

“Please,” You whined, giving in finally and unable to take his sweet torture anymore. “Lewis…” You pleaded, “Please make me come.” You could feel your legs shaking under his touch. “Please…” 

He almost wanted to tease you for a bit longer, but even he was getting impatient and wanted to fuck you as soon as he could. So he wrapped his arms around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, fucking you with his soft, warm tongue until you were crying out loud, coming all over his mouth. 

You were gasping for air, your body squirming under him as you came. 

“You did so good, princess.” Lewis kissed his way up your body again until he pressed his mouth back on yours, kissing you just as hungrily as before. His braids tickled your face but nothing else had your attention in that moment. Not when his hands rubbed up and down your sides. Not when he lowered down just enough for you to feel his body weight, and feel his clothed erection right in between your legs. 

You had never been this intimate with anyone before, and just feeling his warm skin rubbing against yours had your mind going crazy. You moaned into his mouth, breathless from his kiss as his hand lowered his sweatpants just enough to free his erected cock again. 

You couldn’t help but whine as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit. You squirmed under him, seeking more of that feeling. 

Lewis pulled away from the messy kiss and looked down at you, supporting himself above you on one elbow. You had never seen him from this angle before. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, because as angry as you were deep down, he was still your best friend. Still your favourite person in the whole world. 

And yet, he had been secretly hurting you thinking he was doing you good all these years. You couldn’t help the tears that fell down on either side of your face as you gently ran a finger across his perfect eyebrow. Damn him. Everything about him was perfect. 

“I hate you.” Was all you could whisper, feeling too much all at once. Anger. Betrayal. Desire. Need. Satisfaction. 

He smirked, pressing the tip of his cock against your hole and applied just enough pressure to make you moan without pushing inside you yet. “You can hate me while you’re being fucked by me, I don’t care.” 

Neither did you. Not when he slowly pushed inside of, stretching you open as he went. Filling you up until you couldn’t think once he was snug inside you. Fuck. It was too much. Too good. You couldn’t look away from him, more tears spilling down your face once he was fully in. 

Out of all the emotion you were feeling, the stab of betrayal hurt the most. After all, your best friend had been lying to you. Comforting you all these years while you felt insecure when he was the reason behind it. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You asked. 

He knew what you were referring to. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He sounded just as breathless as you were. It was hard to hold back from wanting to fuck you like he dreamt of doing all these years. But he didn’t want it to hurt. So he was waiting, waiting for you to adjust to his size. “I couldn’t risk it.”

You moaned as he removed himself entirely, slowly, before pushing back into you. He was trembling with how much he had to hold back. You could tell. For a man of his magnitude, it was a given that being gentle wasn’t necessarily his forte. But he was still trying. 

“You’re so selfish.” You stated, even when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he fucked you slowly, as slow as possible. Letting you feel every inch of him moving in and out of you. It was so good it was agonising. 

“No,” He argued, still moving gently. “You know what would be selfish? If I asked your father for your hand in marriage behind your back. He would’ve approved of it, he loves me like a son and everyone knows that.” He kissed the side of your face. “But I gave you a choice, I was waiting for you to choose me. Getting rid of the competition all along was just… fun.” 

“Oh fuck you, Lewis.” You almost bit down on his shoulder when he tried to speed up a little. 

“You’re too tight, baby.” He whispered, kissing your face again. “Open for me. Let me fuck you, come on…” You heard him swear under his breath again, the warmth of his body on top of yours felt so good you never wanted this to end. 

Your heart raced even as you relaxed your body to let him in, to let him fuck you harder until fresh tears fell down your face. 

Lewis kissed your open mouth as you moaned for him, crying out loud each time his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “You’re all fucking mine,” He whispered, wrapping his hand around your throat again, “Is this what you wanted? Hmm? To be fucked like this?” He taunted. “Is this what you were begging for? You feel pretty now, princess?” 

His cocky words made you want to slap him but he felt too good for you to actually do it and risk him stopping. Instead, you carefully lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. 

Lewis leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours while fucking deeper into you. The simple gesture felt too intimate. You were in sync, bodies moving as one, sharing the same breath, hearts racing, you felt connected. 

The more you moaned and whimpered, the more you felt him losing his ability to be gentle. At some point, he gave up completely and just fucked you relentlessly. 

You felt a familiar pressure forming in between your hips, your body begging for release. He could feel it too given how you clenched around him. 

“Already about to come for me, princess?” He chuckled, “That was quick.” You didn’t miss the arrogant tone in his voice. 

“Lewis… please.” You moaned, begging. 

“No.” 

His one word felt like it made your world come crumbling down. You cried out when he pulled out, right when you were mere seconds away from coming. 

Even he was surprised at how he was able to hold back from just fucking into you until you were both completely spent from coming too much. 

Lewis leaned in to kiss your swollen mouth. “You tortured me for years, princess.” He whispered against your mouth. “You don’t get to come that easily.” He pulled away and said, “Turn around for me.” 

You moved too slowly for his liking so he had to intervene. He pulled you onto your knees by your hips, shoving your face down into your soft pillow as he shoved his cock inside you again. 

His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen while he fucked into you. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how you clenched around his cock. 

“You feel me in here, princess?” He whispered, “You’re mine now, no one else is gonna touch you. Ever.” 

You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. There was nothing to do but take it, take him deep inside you each time he filled you up. 

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently. It felt dirtier now that you couldn’t see him. He squeezed enough to make you lose your mind.

“Fuck! Please, Lewis….” You cried, your body moving forward and back with each thrust of his. You clenched the blanket under you in your fists tightly, biting down onto the pillow as he quickened his pace. 

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, his voice deeper now. “Are you going to be mine forever?” 

“Yes…” Your voice sounded muffled. “Yes, please…” 

“Promise?” 

“Oh damn you! Yes!” 

He chuckled, leaning down to press his chest to your back as he fucked into your harder than earlier. “Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.” 

You came undone, hard and fast, moaning as you did. You had never imagined pleasure could be so blinding. Your brain was a foggy mess. You felt like you were floating. 

Lewis came right after you, groaning as he did. 

Both of you collapsed onto your bed, both catching your breaths and trying to calm your racing hearts. You could feel Lewis’s body heat right on top of you. 

Everything was blurry for a while after that. You briefly remember Lewis cleaning you up and placing the covers over you. 

When you came to again, you were laying almost entirely on top of his chest. Your ear right over his heart, which beat steadily now. His warm hand rubbed up and down your back. The room was dark now, all the lights were off. 

You wouldn’t see him but you still moved to look up at him. Or at least you tried to but the soreness in between your legs made you hiss in discomfort. 

“Sorry about that.” Lewis said quietly. You could hear the smug smile he was probably hiding. 

“I still hate you, Lewis. You piece of shit.” You muttered under your breath, placing your head back on his comfy chest. Your fingers traced over his skin, you knew exactly where all his tattoos were so you traced them even in the dark. 

“Sure.” He chuckled this time. “Didn’t sound like you hated me earlier. You screamed so loud I was worried we might have woken up the whole house.” 

Your face burned. You still couldn’t believe you actually did it. You slept with your best friend. It felt unreal. You tried to find that anger again, but it wasn’t there anymore. 

You still had one question. “Did you truly ever consider doing it? What you said earlier?” Your heart skipped a beat or two while you waited for an answer. 

Lewis was quiet for a moment then asked, “What exactly? I said a lot of things.” 

“Ask dad for my hand in marriage. Behind my back.” 

His silence said it all. 

“Asshole.” You muttered under your breath again. 

He laughed, tightening his arms around you protectively. “You love me, princess. You would’ve pretended to hate the thought of it. You would’ve thrown a bratty fit. But in the end, you would’ve said yes.” Then he paused and added, “You will say yes when time comes.” 

You hide your face into his chest even in the dark. Your silence said it all too.

[angeldiarybook]

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ˙ ꨄ°˖🎧📖 ⋆｡˚꩜ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

-right when he saw you he knew he needed you

-at first he’d teasingly flirt with you but over time he actually started to catch feelings

-asshole at the start

-you’d get annoyed pretty easily from him

-he’d start to notice your annoyance from him slightly after he started liking you

-upsets him a bit (just a little bit) from the genuine annoyed look on your face any time he comes near you

-tries to make you jealous but it just gives you an ick “Have you tried to get their attention?” Rory asked me and Paris as Tristan was making out with some girl in front of our lockers “sure have” Paris said as I rolled my eyes at the little love session Tristan had going on “no luck?” Rory asked “nope” both me and Paris replied as we rolled our eyes “it’s like he’s eating her face” Rory said disgusted.that caused me to let a snarky low chuckle out as Paris stared at them. I rolled my eyes lifting up my books and what felt like 20 pounds inside my back bag up.Rory tapped Tristan shoulder asking them to move a bit to the left. “what?” Tristan acted dumb with a stupid grin on his face “you’re standing in front of the lockers” Rory told Tristan “our lockers” I responded annoyed “Oh sorry we just got a little carried away” Tristan replied snarky “right” both me and Rory said as she rolled her eyes as Tristan and the random girl backed away from the lockers Tristan noticed how genuinely unbothered you look and how’d you be annoyed if anyone was in your way of your locker on purpose

-once he realizes making you jealous doesn’t work he starts being a ‘gentle man’

-giving you some dumb nickname

-over time you get use to his annoying flirty remarks

-always loans you his notes

-birthday kiss

-admiring you in class while you’re paying attention to the lesson

-apologize to you once you guys start getting closer for being an asshole and genuinely means it “I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time for a while” Tristan apologized to me “oh…it’s ok..well it’s not but I understand” I gave him a small warm smile

-catching him staring at you in class

-helps you a ton whenever you’re struggling in a certain subject

-you guys always have to be in the same group project together

-while you guys sit next to each other he makes little braids in your hair when you have your head down in class

-teasingly agreeing to whatever you have to say about something

-people noticing him changing slightly to win you over

-playfully begging to carry your books “Tristan I can carry them my self” you chuckled softly and playfully rolled your eyes at him as he tried to snatch your thick books away

-even carrying your back bag for you when school is over

-insists on driving you home

-teases you whenever you’re reading a book and not paying attention to him

-“seducing” you with that god damn smirk/smile of his

-getting mad and scolding him as he has a snarky laugh smirking at you in the hallways

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW) - PART 6 - PART 7 (NSFW) - PART 8 (NSFW)

You started having the dream again. The disembodied eyes of your father floating in a black void. Just the eyes. Nothing else.

And for hours- and it really felt like hours- they would just stare at you. The eyes never moved, or blinked, or did anything other than hang in the air. But there was a terrible sense of dread when you looked into them. You couldn’t force yourself to look away.

And so that was why you had been losing sleep. You didn’t tell your mother that though. When she asked what troubled you, you made up some excuse to quell her worry. You could never tell her the truth; the truth that there was some piece of you left which never recovered. But guilt nearly destroyed your mother, and you couldn’t bear to let it fester in her any longer.

On Sunday you spread all of the ingredients the orc man gave you across your table. He didn’t even tell you the measurements. Your mother glanced down at you as she made her way to the root cellar. She stopped in her tracks, “By the Gods, are you making golden eggs?” You cocked your head at her questioningly. “Where did you find turmeric all the way out here?” She grabbed a pinch of it, “And so much of it too!”

“Uh-“ Your mother had a sparkle in her eyes that you hadn’t seen for a few years. She chuckled to herself, “Years ago. Many many years ago. There was a very nice orc family who lived just down the path. The wife taught me this recipe.”

Orc family? This was the first you have heard of an orc family. “You never told me you had orc friends Ma!” You jeered at her. She smiled warmly. “You hadn’t been born yet, of course you wouldn’t have remembered. Your elder sister loved playing with the little orc girl.” She reached for a jar from the cupboard and began concocting the mixture. When she was done the eggs swirled around in the vibrant yellow brine.

There was still turmeric left over, and your mother was so excited to show you how it could even be an excellent clothing dye. She took one of your more drab frocks got to work.

~

You weren’t used to feeling pretty. Sure, you knew you weren’t ugly by any stretch of the imagination. But to feel pretty? Beautiful even? It had been years.

But today, on regular Monday, you felt radiant. Your mother actually gasped when you stepped out of your room. You looked like a dream in the yellow shade your mother had dyed the fabric. She insisted on arranging your hair specially to go with the dress. “It’s just another Monday, Ma. Any more primping and I’ll be over-dressed.” The older woman sighed, kissing you on the forehead, “Fine go along now… before I start braiding daisies in your hair.” You giggled and practically skipped out the front door. Tucked in your basket was the jar of golden eggs.

The town square was nearly vacant, save for a few other shopkeepers opening up for the day. And then you saw the trio of orc men sharpening their arrows and adjusting the tension of their great longbows. You reckoned they were just about to leave for a hunt. Curse the Gods for your lingering gaze, but you made direct eye contact with one of them. You made direct eye contact with him. The orc you had bloodied and bruised the previous week.

Something (probably a lack of self-preservation) compelled you to start walking towards the bunch. If your mother could make peace with orcs, why couldn’t you? “But this isn’t a peaceful family with children, they’re trained killers, y/n…” You thought to yourself. The little muscle inside your chest was puttering away as you got closer. The two other hunting mates had started to notice your approach now. Your orc acquaintance had sort of a surprised yet dumb look on his face as you stopped before him.

”You didn’t write me a recipe, but you can thank my mother for knowing how to prepare these.” You extended the jar to him. His friends were snickering to themselves, and the orc just sat there staring at the contents of the jar. One of his buddies guffawed and whacked a big hand onto his back, “This simpleton can’t read to save his life… won’t be getting any recipes from him!”

You also held out the two silver pieces he had given you, and dropped them into his open palm. “And I can’t take these. Not after I injured you. Can we consider ourselves even now?”

“Khargaad, you didn’t tell us this was who the scuffle was with.” The other orc friend chuckled, “And look at that, not a scratch on her. Guess she won.”

Khargaad. Was that his name? Or was it a word in their mother tongue? He shot a venomous look to his friends, and with that they backed away leaving the two of you alone. “These look… like they’re supposed to,” He said in a tone of mild surprise. “Your mother… She knows other orcs?”

Was he trying to make conversation with you? “Um- Yes! Yes, it was a long while ago. They lived down the road from my family. It was before I was born, but they got along well from what I hear,” you replied. There was a deeply awkward pause before he glanced quickly at your dress. “Oh!” You gasped, “my mother taught me about this as well. The yellow stuff you gave me is an excellent clothing dye.”

“Yes, I know.” His tone was a little gruff. You felt foolish for telling him what he probably already knew. “Your name is Khargaad?” You blurted out. A hint of color rose to his cheeks, “Yup. Khargaad. And- um- what may I call you?”

”y/n,” you replied with a nervous smile. Silence hung over the both of you for a second. “Well, I’ll be on my way.” He said, turning on his heel to join his hunting mates. “Stay safe out there!” You responded. Your inner-self cringed, that reply was probably too familiar. He glanced back at you one more time before jogging to catch his friends.

~

The next day Milo found you sweeping outside the shop. “Why were you talking to those orcs?” He spat at you. You didn’t look up at him, “Just customers.” This technically wasn’t untrue.

”You don’t have orc customers”

”Says who. You?” You snorted at him, pushing the dust from the cobblestones onto his shiny leather boots. He yanked the broom from your grasp, “Why are you wearing that?” He hissed. You glared at him, wrenching the broom back from his grasp. “It’s none of your fucking business-“

“Let me buy you new dresses, y/n. You look like an orc.” You straightened a bit. “What do you mean?” Milo rolled his eyes. “It’s turmeric. They often dye their clothes with turmeric. It looks ridiculous if you ask me…” He trailed off. You were tired of this conversation, leaving him standing in the street. He didn’t bother to follow you inside.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You spent the last hour hammering some boards over the window still shattered from your target practice.

You didn’t notice Karghaad watching you across the square.

Thank you to everyone’s sweet comments, and to those who wanted a part 2 😘

@kennedyabraxas123 @allthecraftandthings @sunndust @blushycadaver @whyiamadegenerate @beaniebaneenie @reads-stuff-quietly

[msmk11]

Hiii!! I love your work so much and was wondering if you could do a poly marauders (and lily) x hufflepuff coded fem reader comfort fic 💛 maybe they are just having a bad day, being insecure and everyone tries there best to comfort her? thankyou (even if you decide not to)

Omg hi lovely! Thank you so much for the request. This is actually my first ever and I’m so excited and happy to write it for you! I hope it lives up to your standards - MK <3

Just Hold Me For Awhile

——————————————————————————

Poly!Marauders + Lily x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Cw: low self-esteem, hurt/comfort, sad/anxious reader

A/n: Baby’s first request! Ngl I rewrote this like three times, but now it finally feels genuine and I’m very happy with it. I hope you all enjoy :)

There is no evidence to confirm your fears besides the incessant voice inside your head.

You’re not good enough.

You’re not smart enough.

You’re not funny enough.

You’re not pretty enough.

Eventually, they’re all going to leave you.

You are going to end up alone.

Deep down, you know none of these things are true. But reason is no match for your anxiety and the extraordinariness of each of your partners.

James- best Gryffindor chaser the team has had

in years.

Lily- number one in your class.

Remus- Casanova of Gryffindor tower.

Sirius- absolutely fearless in the face of adversity.

You- the ordinary Hufflepuff who just got lucky.

It consistently amazes you that you ended up in a relationship with these four bold, well-known, and well-liked Gryffindors. They all love you so much and you feel grateful that you get to love and be loved by them everyday.

But no matter how much love and care they give you, it cannot entirely soothe the deep-rooted feeling of inadequacy lurking within. You can’t help but sometimes feel out of place in your own relationship- not because your partners exclude you, but rather because your obvious ordinariness situates you outside their circular of extraordinariness.

It’s a feeling that’s lingered since the four first showed interest in you, but recently it’s been possessing you tenfold.

All these thoughts are racing around in your head as you sit at the foot of Sirius’ bed in the boys’ dormitory. Peter is off on a date, leaving you five with some much needed alone time. The moment is serene, with Sirius painting your nails a soft green, Lily braiding Sirius’ hair out of his face, Remus dangling over the edge talking to you three, and James on top of him, massaging his back.

The four are talking about some recent Hogwarts drama, so you’ve sort of zoned out of the conversation, only adding in commentary here or there.

“I mean, I’m so glad Pandora hexed him,” Lily says, “he totally deserved it.”

“I just never would’ve pinned her as the type of person to hex someone, with the way she’s so soft spoken and all,” Sirius replies.

“She does hang out with your brother and Junior though,” Remus reminds him.

“And Evan is her brother,” James adds with a laugh, “it’s in her blood. I just wish I could’ve seen Mulciber’s face.”

“It probably looked as dumb and stupid as always, if not more so,” Sirius jokes.

Everyone busts out laughing and you faintly chuckle through your anxiety-induced brain fog.

Someone taps the side of your cheek.

“Doll, you there?”

You jolt out of your trance and look at Sirius, “hmm? Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you wanted anything else done to your nails.”

You briefly glance down at your perfectly manicured nails, “oh, uh, yeah. Perfect as always, my star.”

Remus reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “are you okay, dove? I feel like you’ve been awfully quiet today.”

You smile a little and wave him off, “oh yeah, fine. Just tired, Moons.”

“Wanna come take a nap, angel?” James asks sweetly, opening his arms.

Though you’re not actually that tired, it’s mainly just an excuse, you can’t pass up the offer from your cuddliest of boyfriends. You peck Sirius’ cheek as a thank you for doing your nails and then crawl onto James’ lap. You situate your head on his chest and curl up as he wraps his arms around you. His musky cologne eases the knots in your stomach a little and you try to focus on the steady beat of his heart.

“Better?” he mumbles into your hair.

You quietly hum in confirmation.

You keep your eyes closed all cuddled up with James as you listen to your partners quietly chat. Within minutes of your getting settled you sense movement on the bed. Remus shifts upwards to lay next to you and James- you can tell from the sudden increase in body heat- and you feel Sirius and Lily lay down at your feet.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of rough lips- Remus’ lips- against your forehead. Though he thinks you’re asleep, you hear him whisper, “get some rest, my sweet girl.”

Someone’s head falls on your knee and then you hear Lily’s voice, “she’s so pretty when she sleeps, isn’t she? All soft and peaceful.”

You recognize Sirius’ habitual stroking of your leg with his thumb as he adds, “I didn’t think she could get any softer or sweeter, but here we are.”

“Our angel,” James coos.

Though you suppose most would feel pretty lucky to hear these things about themselves, they only make you feel worse.

You hate yourself.

You hate yourself for having four wonderful, caring, and loving partners, and you can’t even appreciate them because of your own self-loathing. You despise this nasty habit of self-sabotage, but you’re not sure how to break it.

As you lay there and listen to them say such nice things about you, you feel a lump grow in your throat and hot tears spring to your eyes. The tightness in your chest is near painful, and you need some relief.

You try to shift just the slightest- as if you’re just moving around in your sleep- to bury your head in James’ chest, out of everyone’s eyesight.

But once you let one tear drop, a whole rainstorm comes. You try and keep your sobs and sniffling quiet, but your hot, wet tears give you away to James.

“Angel?” James asks worriedly. He pulls you away from his chest to look at your face and sees the snotty, tear-stained mess you’ve become.

“Dove,” Remus pleads worriedly, “what’s wrong? What’s happened.”

Your sobs are too strong for you to respond and you can only shrug your shoulders. Your eyes are blinded by tears and you can’t see their faces, but you know they’re filled with concern and worry. To make them worry like this only causes you to cry harder.

You’re not really aware of what’s happening around you. All you know is one minute your in James’ arms, and the next in Sirius’. Sirius strokes your hair away from your face and holds you in his lap like a baby. He rocks you back and forth quietly, not saying anything at all.

It’s nice, not having to say anything and just crying. Even if you had the ability to speak through your tears, you don’t know that you could. There’s no easy way to describe your feelings of inadequacy, and no amount of ‘talking it out’ could ever just solve the problem either. So you just cry. Cry because you’re angry that you feel this way. Cry because you’re sad. Cry because you’re tired. Tired of not feeling like you’re ever enough. And you cry just because you can. Because you know that your partners will be there for you for as long as you need to cry.

And when the sobs finally quiet to a hiccup here or there, you appreciate that they give you silence to breathe and just process everything.

Lily stands and wanders off, coming back with a glass of water that she presses into your hands. You sip it gently before James takes it from you and sets it on the nightstand. Remus goes and grabs a hot washcloth, wiping your face oh so gently with a soft look in his brown eyes. Sirius hands you back to James- your most tactile partner- and settles again at your feet.

Then, with the most quiet and tender voice, Sirius asks you only one thing, “What do you need from us?”

“Just hold me for awhile.”

And so, like many days before, and hopefully every day after, you five pile into bed, reveling in each other’s warmth and security.

As you lay surrounded by your lovers, you know that even though those same lousy feelings continue to reside inside of you, you will figure it out. And when you’re ready to talk, or rant, or cry some more, your partners will be there.

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 1

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Fuck me, that's what I get for not wearing my helmet tonight. Jason came to with numb hands and legs, burning shoulders, a gag tight in his mouth, and a pounding headache. His ears rang and a groan escaped his throat before he could keep quiet. He slowly cracked an eye open and when he wasn't blinded took stock of the situation he was in. He was kneeling, tied to a post behind him and in the middle of what appeared to be a magic circle of some kind. At the edges of the circle there were candles, a bright Lazarus green, and beyond that were robed figures.

Great, cultists. Perfect. The ringing in his ears started to fade as chanting filled the room. After the first repetition of unfamiliar words the flames of each candle one by one turned black, and once it came around, the edges of the circle started to glow bright green. The glow followed the path written in what Jason assumed was blood until the entire thing was glowing bright enough that Jason had to squint to try and make out any of the symbols and commit them to memory, any little thing could be a clue after all.

As the chanting got louder and louder, the glow shone brighter and brighter. He could feel a build up of energy and his hair began to stand on end like lightning was about to strike. The light became blinding and the pressure in the air built up until he felt he couldn't breathe, he could smell ozone in the air and suddenly the light returned to normal, he collapsed forward and his cheek hit carpet.

"Oh my Ancients! Are you alright?" He heard a feminine voice say and let out a pitiful groan. "That's probably a dumb question, one second let me grab something to cut those ropes and I'll help you up."

He heard shuffling and opened his eyes to a purple shag carpet with the magic circled burned into it and registered the ozone scent shifted to a burning smell. He tried moving his arms and yelped in response. He heard a thud and a quiet curse as his apparent savior stopped rifling through their drawers with a quiet "Aha!" He turned his head towards the sound and his mind stuttered to a halt for a moment.

Stood there, with a sword at least as long as the Demon Spawn is tall, was a woman Jason would expect to find in Themyscira. She stood almost seven feet tall with long red hair pulled back into a high ponytail braid, a helm-like crown adorning her head. Muscled shoulders had a black capelet from one and a pauldron on the other. She wore golden bracers like Wonder Woman on her forearms and armor similar in shape, but black with a symbol blazoned across the chest, under the armor she wore a teal toga. He turned his attention to her face and found a sheepish expression in those teal eyes.

"I absolutely forgot I had my sword with me today because of the council meeting. Let me just-" she quickly strode forward and cut first his feet and then his hands free, and after giving up on the knot, carefully cut the gag from his mouth. She knelt down and helped him to sit more comfortably. "Do you think you can make it to the couch? it's very comfy, I use it when I need a break between council meetings."

Jason tried standing and his legs protested feeling like pins and needles and tv static. He shook his head and she nodded thinking to herself. "Okay then, here."

Jason blue-screened as he realized he was suddenly being held in a bridal carry by this woman like it was nothing. He blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears as she carried him to her honest to god fainting couch and placed him upon it like a swooning maiden.

"So, um, hi, my name is Jasmine, please just call me Jazz regardless of whatever you hear anyone else here call me. Do you need some water? I'm gonna order some water, and some painkillers maybe? Honestly, I'm just gonna ask them to send one of the yeti healers to take a look at you and I'll need to ask someone who can read ghost speak to translate whatever brought you here." She rambled and made her way to one of the doors and spoke with someone just outside.

Jason laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling and trying to get himself focused on the situation at hand. So facts so far: he was just used as a sacrifice of some kind, he was teleported somewhere unknown to him at this moment, and whoever he was sacrificed to seems to be some form of royalty and was arguably the most attractive and so far kind woman he's ever met. He nodded to himself and carefully pealed the red domino mask from his face.

"Jason." He said to her as she turned back to him after closing the door. She stopped for a moment, eyes wide. "My name, it's Jason."

She blushed a moment. "Right, yes, nice to meet you Jason, I wish it was under literally any other circumstances." She said walking forward to shake his hand.

"So, uh, where are we?" He asked, gesturing to what Jason assumed was a window, but wasn't certain because the sky was green and purple and had floating doors and islands in it.

She closed her eyes and seemed to take a fortifying breath. "Right. What do you know about the supernatural, besides the obvious that apparently magic circles work?"

Jason thought about what he could say here. Should he bring up his time in the All Caste? Should he bring up the Lazarus pits? I don't know enough about the situation yet. "I know that magic is real, kinda hard not to what with heroes like Zattana and Raven making headlines and the fact the city I live in is hella cursed."

He watched some tension leave her shoulders, but not all the way. "Good, I won't have to go over that particular world-shattering revelation, though I'll probably ask you more about those heroes you were talking about, I haven't heard of them." Jason was stunned for a moment, but she continued. "We are in a sort of, Between. We are in the Infinite Realms, the existence between existences. The Infinite Realms is the space between the dimensions of the multiverse. We are currently in the castle of the ruler of the Infinite Realms, more specifically my office." She hesitated before continuing. " I'm, sort of, the Queen Regent actually." She said embarrassed.

Jason processed that for a moment, and she let him. So, the multiverse is real, and he was apparently just sacrificed to the ruler of the dimension between dimensions. She let him sit with that information, letting him come up with his own questions, when there was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me your majesty, you called for a healer and scholar? I had not left yet from the earlier council meeting and figured I could be of assistance." A tall yeti with ice for one of his arms and frozen horns atop his head appeared in the doorway. What also appeared seemed to be a literal skeleton that pushed a tea cart with a pitcher of water and little finger sandwiches on it into the room and left again.

"Frostbite! Perfect, first, can you take a look at Jason, he was apparently sacrificed and judging from the blood in his hair he at least has a head injury. Then the circle he appeared in burned itself into the carpet, I'm still not great at reading ghost speak, especially in an older dialect, I can't figure out what it says." Jazz spoke in a rush as she walked toward the cart to get some water for Jason.

Frostbite had a kind smile as he turned to Jason and pulled out a first aid kit from seemingly nowhere. "Yes, hello, you must be Jason. How are you feeling? What hurts in particular?" Jason went along with the examination, and gladly accepted the glass of water from Jazz as she handed it to him. "Well it looks to me like you mostly just need to rest and maybe take some painkillers. Here," The yeti carefully handed him a small cup with two over-the-counter pain pills in it. "Alright, now let's take a look at this circle!" He stood to his full height, carefully ducking to avoid knocking his horns on the chandelier. He observed it for a moment, humming to himself from time to time. "Right, so this appears to be a binding ritual, somehow tied to the Solstice celebrations. Typically it entwines the soul of the sacrifice to the being they were sacrificed to. Somewhere in the archives there is likely more information about it, but you'll probably have to spend quite some time searching."

Jazz looked pained for a moment. "Okay, do you think it can be broken?" Her face showed hope, but with an underlay of resignation.

Frostbite thought for a moment. "There are some, though most are permanent. I can send over some of my scholars to help locate the correct ritual, I would suggest asking the Master of Time as he would know for certain, but you know how they can be." He straightened before bowing to both Jazz and Jason. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Queen Regent and Lord Jason, I must make my way back to the Far Frozen to gather those to help your search. Good day." With that, the yeti left the two of them alone.

Jazz sighed heavily and put her face in her hands. She growled, frustrated, before she straightened after having made a decision. "Okay, so you're probably going to be staying her for a little while while we figure all this out. Let me show you to a room so you can rest a bit, and I'll have one of my aides bring you some clothes so yours can get washed too."

She led him through the passageways of the gothic castle, it's black stone bricks and tapestries of silver seeming to glow. They stopped at the third of a row of doors and went inside. The room was large, twenty-foot ceilings and a bay window with a sitting nook framed by two large bookcases stood across the room. A massive bed with an intricate quilt portraying what seemed to be a battle between supernatural entities was braced against one wall with a grand fireplace on the opposite wall.

"The door to the left of the fireplace leads to the bathroom, the first thing I did when I took over was make sure there was hot water and large soaking tubs in all the bedrooms here. There should be bathrobes of varying sizes in the closet that offshoots the bathroom. If you need anything, I'm probably going to be in my office for the next few hours and there is always the bell by the door for stuff like, food or whatever. Um, I guess I'll leave you to it?" She shuffled nervously out the door, leaving him standing there, hand half raised in an awkward wave goodbye.

He chuckled to himself for a moment before striding over to the bed and sitting down to start unstrapping his body armor and boots. Once stripped to his boxers, he made his way to the bathroom and was pleasantly surprised to find not only a large soaking tub, but also a shower with a bench to sit. He quickly showered all the grime from the last few hours from his body, careful to get the matted blood in his hair untangled. Once finished, he started filling the tub before walking towards the closet where he found not only bathrobes, but also bath salts and bath bombs. Deciding to indulge, he grabbed one of each in similar enough scents and dropped both into the bath tub before easing himself into the hot water. He hissed at the temperature before it started easing the aches across all his muscles. He shut off the faucet and then leaned back and allowed himself to think.

So, he thought, I am in an alternate dimension, in the castle of the extremely attractive Queen Regent of said dimension, and my soul is apparently bound to her for the foreseeable future. He thunked his head on the walls of the tub contemplating the facts laid before him. He startled, shooting forward with his back straight.

"Wait a minute!" He said to himself. "Wait a god damned minute!" He smacked his forehead with his hand and ran it through his hair. "I'm in a romance novel plotline! Bound to an entity of unknown power against my will, but the entity is actually a kind and beautiful woman! Holy shit! I can't screw this up!"

Decision made, Jason Peter Todd, closeted romance novel enthusiast, began to plan.