#isn't it lovely is still on a hiatus

[sso-moonchild]

Tldr; moral of the story: take good care of your wrists, gamers, and also keep all warranty receipts safe until the warranty truly runs out.

My ergonomical gaming mouse broke (wheel doesn't scroll anymore) and there's still warranty left on it but I can't find the original box, or any sign of a receipt (no email order confirmation or anything) and I'm just 🫠

I'm such a box hoarder, like, I always keep important boxes safe, so why on earth would I have thrown this box away?

Anyway this means I won't be playing horsegame for the foreseeable future (or any compooter game for that matter)

(also I could fix the scroll wheel myself except it requires way more effort and entirely tearing the mouse apart, because as an ergonomical mouse it's of course way more complex and stupidly engineered(I opened it and took a looksy))

[yangjeongin]

i swear i love lovestay so much but i will either cry or come close to tears Every time i hear it i have  problems

[thingswhatareawesome]

¨

[slytherinshua]

CHERRY BOWS

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. toddler/parent stuff. cheol gets jelly. pairing. husband!scoups x wife!reader. wc. 1k. request. request by @blue-jisungs: you asked for soft hours n i shall give!! it’s been in my mind for a hot while actually but i’m too busy rn to do it myself… and you’re the perfect person bc U MADE ME THINK IF TJAT 🫵🫵 jealous dad seungcheol :( ofc he loves u n ur kid but give him some attention too smh >:T and requested by anon: i love your svt as dads!! they’re all so cute and i’d like to request one for cheol! a/n. i love love love dad cheol omg :( my second dad fic for him hehe <3 hes so girl dad coded and SOOOOO ADORABLE SKDJKS I LOVE HIM!!!!

“You ate without me…?” Cheol’s sleepy mumble was the first thing you heard from him. He had tiredly trudged downstairs when he had woken up and you weren’t next to him in the bed. It was already a bad start to the day when that happened, and he was frowning and pouting and generally sulking about it by the time he found you.

He wrapped his arms around you from the back, trapping you in the middle of the living room so you couldn’t continue without giving him the attention he needed. You smiled at his clinginess and deep raspy morning voice, but scoffed at how baby-like he was in the morning. Sometimes he acted even more like a child than your actual child. 

Eunha was your now 2 year old daughter. She was adored by everyone and constantly doted on. She could be a handful at times, but only because she had started to take after your bossiness and knew exactly how to appeal to Seungcheol. If she ever wanted something, all she had to do was look at them with those big boba eyes that she got from him, and he’d be folding.

He loved her more than anything. Probably even more than you, but you were okay with it. It warmed your heart how much he cared for his daughter. He’d die for her in a heartbeat without a second of hesitation. You were learning more and more every day the love a father could hold for his children. You had expected this attitude when you married him, of course. Because you knew him and you knew how caring he was. He was so filled with love for people and the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Starting a family had always been a dream for both of you, and Eunha’s birth had been your biggest blessing. It was challenging to take care of a toddler, but you and Cheol always did your best.

Eunha was happily playing with her toy dolls after eating breakfast— the entire living room spread with her mess. It was always a constant of cleaning her toys in the evening just for her to make a new mess the next day, but you didn’t mind. It was worth it to see her so happy, and though it could be stressful to have a messy space sometimes, her happy giggles made up for it.

“Were you playing dolls with her without me as well?” Cheol asked, the pout he was wearing somehow finding its way into his tone. You giggled and he squeezed you tighter out of jealousy. He didn’t want to admit that he missed your attention being only on him, but it was true. 

You were getting up earlier to feed Eunha and play with her in the morning. The sleepy morning cuddles that Cheol looked forward to every time he fell asleep next to you were becoming rarer and rarer and he felt bitter about the change. It just wasn’t the same with Eunha. It wasn’t worse, it was definitely better in most aspects, but the free time that he had enjoyed before was being sucked away by the little child.

“She wanted me to be the doctor.” You told him, explaining the dynamics of Eunha’s favourite game. She would be the mother to her little baby doll, and either Cheol or you would usually be the doctor.

“The bed was so cold without you…” He murmured, pushing his cheek against your neck. His skin was warm against yours and you leaned into him more, savouring the feeling.

“I’m sorry. You know that Eunha likes to get up early…” You whispered.

“She should’ve woken me up instead of you. Aren’t you tired?” 

“A bit. Eating breakfast with her was nice, though. She insisted on having strawberries with her yogurt since she had seen me eat it like that once.” You smiled. Seungcheol pouted.

“I thought I was her favourite…” He was mostly joking, of course, but slightly hurt. He had always been susceptible to jealousy. Maybe he was a little too greedy— he loved watching you and Eunha spend time together, but he also hated being left out.

Your little moment of warm embrace was interrupted after 2 minutes, a giggly Eunha running up and clinging to her father’s leg. She babbled something about her doll and wanting to get ice cream later today, which you were sure Seungcheol would indulge her in. He spoiled her too much.

You were happy to see your husband’s pout lift up into the sweetest of grins. He picked up Eunha, holding her so that she was resting on his hip. He kept one arm around you; almost if you would run away and leave him if he didn’t. Which was probably partially true since you hadn’t cleaned up from breakfast yet.

“Give daddy a kiss?” Cheol asked Eunha, giggles ensuing amongst both of them. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek cutely and you smiled. Now that Seungcheol was awake as well, the two would be inseparable for the rest of the day— especially since Cheol didn’t have any work to get to.

The morning happily proceeded with a small second breakfast and playtime. Now that your husband was being included in every activity, he was all smiles and giggles. He liked being the centre of attention; you had discovered that fact throughout the years. He was the happiest man in the world when he knew he was making his daughter happy.

Her happiness always came first, even when it relied on Seungcheol’s hair being tied up in pigtails with little cherry-coloured bows because Eunha wanted to play hairdresser. You were almost envious of how cute he looked in them. It was impossible not to love everything that Cheol did.

Along with the bows came matching sweaters with a cherry pattern for father and daughter. One look at the two and you could easily declare them the two cutest human beings in the entire world.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @edensgardenn,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cienlvrs,, @amara-mars

[surftrips]

CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE

pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader

word count: 600+

summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.

a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.

He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.

"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.

"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."

You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.

It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.

And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.

"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.

But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.

He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"

You frowned, "My love isn't?"

"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."

"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."

Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"

"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."

He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"Promise me you'll never leave my side."

"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."

That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.

[cornsoupflavour]

Trip to Paradise (Krystal Jung NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested, Story Beats, Story Plot by: @sunshinesmoonshines

f(x) Krystal Jung x Male Reader

Tags: 7.0k words, multiple creampies, public sex, risky sex, mentions of breeding/impreg, heavy romance

The life of a K–Pop idol is stressful, and there are times where idols would take a step back from the limelight to enjoy a little solitude away from it all. Krystal Jung, from f(x) is one such idol. The pressure to perform and pop out gradually got to her and she decided that now would be a good time to go on a hiatus and take a vacation to help ease her body and mind. Krystal was looking for more than just a holiday, however. She was on a little search for love.

Krystal had decided to take a one–month holiday in the gorgeous city of Venice, Italy. She wanted to experience its exquisite beauty, history and especially, its romance. As the days went on, she found herself slowly falling more and more in love with the city. She was checked into an authentic, Italian bed and breakfast situated near the Grand Canal. The sound of creaking of wood and the warm, flickering candlelight added to its ambiance. The whole atmosphere put her at ease instantaneously.

On her first day there, Krystal visited St. Mark's Square. The vast expanse of its piazza, dotted with cafes, tourists and even pigeons captured her heart instantly. The architecture of St. Mark's Basilica and the towering Campanile exuded a feeling of luxury. She was impressed. But it was the charm of daily life that truly captivated her. A street musician playing a moving serenade caught her attention. She stood before him for a moment, watching as he coaxed sweet melodies from his violin. She wondered if she should sample that for a song.

As the sun began to set, it casted an orange glow over the city. Krystal found herself wandering along the narrow and cobblestone streets, crossing over countless bridges that arched over the iconic winding canals. She couldn't help but feel captivated by the gondolas smoothly gliding by, their gondoliers gracing her ears with soulful Italian songs.

On one of the bridges, she saw a group of young locals. They were laughing and flirting with each other. A young man from the group noticed Krystal staring. He smiled at her, revealing dimples that pierced his cheeks. He gave her a small wave, making her flustered. She returned the gesture shyly before moving on.

She felt a slight ache in her heart, sad that she hasn't been able to truly experience the wonders of being with someone due to her job as an idol. But then again, this was the trip to attempt something like that. She carried on walking for a while before deciding she should head back to the BnB.

As she arrived at the door to the BnB, she bumped into you. Her ears perked up slightly as she took in the full sight of you. You did the same, a little taken aback by her beauty.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" you asked, lightly holding her still.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I'm sorry, are you another guest here? I don't think I've seen you..." she asked, her eyes checking you out slightly. Krystal had already met all the other guests who were staying at the BnB, the one other guest that isn't you.

"Oh, uhh, no. I'm actually the owner's son." You replied, a warm smile forming on your lips. You raised a hand out as you both introduced yourself to one another. "Oh wow, you're from Korea? You must be a model or something, you're beautiful!"

The light flirt sent a red blush to creep up Krystal's cheeks. "Oh, stop it, you~" she playfully waved her hand. The dim lighting of the BnB entrance casted an inviting warmth on both your faces.

"No, really, you're a natural beauty," you said genuinely, your lips curving up into a cheeky smile. Krystal felt a surge of happiness hearing the sincerity in your voice. "But it's getting dark, please come in. I hope I'm not making you late for anything."

"Oh, no, no... You're not. But I do think I should head back to my room..." her voice trailed off a little.

"How about you show me around town tomorrow? It'll be nice having a tour guide for myself~"

"Oh? A–Alright then, I'll see you back here in the morning. Have a great rest." The two of you parted ways, both sporting a wide and warm smile on your lips. You knew the type of business your father runs would definitely attract some attractive individuals... but one as astronomically beautiful as she is? Feels like a dream.

As the night went on, the both of you felt a slight buzz. It was like you couldn't wait to see each other again despite the short interaction. You managed to put your excited selves to sleep. The next morning, you eagerly awaited Krystal at the lobby of the BnB. You stared in awe as she descended the stairs from the top floor in a form–fitting grey sleeveless dress.

"So, shall we?"

You took a moment to check her out, taking in the full sight of her glowing allure. "Y–Yeah, let's go... Wow, you are just– stunning–"

"Thank you," Krystal replied with a grateful smile.

Your sentences struggled to come out as you battled the many thoughts in your head. You managed to snap out of it a few moments later, and ushered her over to your car. Luckily for you, there won't be any check–ins scheduled for the day, so you are free to spend it with this heaven–sent individual.

Krystal sauntered over as you held the door open for her. In a slightly seductive yet graceful movement, she ducked in, taking a seat beside yours in the car. "I must say, owning a BnB in such a beautiful place... must be a dream come true."

You chuckled softly, as you rounded the car to get to the driver's seat. You inserted the key into the ignition. "Yeah, it's wonderful. I don't usually work here since my dad runs the place. But when I do cover for him, it feels like it could be my dream job."

Krystal chuckled, leaning back against the seat. "I can see why you'd enjoy this job. The BnB, the city, the people... it's all just so breathtaking."

You chose to bring her to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection to admire the beauty of Italian art before bringing her around to savour the rich flavours of Italian cuisine in hidden trattorias, allowing her to lose herself in the quieter corners of the city.

"Wow..." she gasped as she gazed upon the artworks.

You were pleased to watch her take in the art with the same fascination you have. You both wind up standing in front of a large piece, both of you unable to speak for a moment.

Krystal bites her lower lip, eyes still fixated on the painting. "It's... It's different. Not something I've seen before. But I like it..."

The two of you continued to gaze at the works before taking an adventure through the winding alleyways to let her have a taste of the most authentic of Italian cuisines. However, you made sure to hold off from some of the tastier stores to ensure she'd still have more to try later on during her trip.

Over the next two weeks or so, Krystal explored every nook and cranny that Venice has to offer with your guidance. You both went from strolling down the Rialto Bridge to indulging in gelato in the quaint Campo San Polo. You even spent long afternoons lounging in the lush gardens of Giardini Pubblici as you watched the sunset together from the quiet vantage points of Dorsuduro.

You two would go on long–winding yet engaging conversations about your daily lives. Krystal held off from speaking about her experience as a K–Pop idol as she felt a genuine connection forming between the two of you. That revelation may have brought about a positive or negative reaction, but she wasn't willing to take that risk... It was hard not to though, as she felt herself falling for you... hard.

You were falling hard too. In between those conversations, you'd find yourselves lost in each other's eyes, the chemistry between you palpable. Sometimes your fingers would touch, and you'd imagine yourself stealing brief kisses under the veil of twilight. But most often, you'd simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the company of someone who wasn't just beautiful on the outside but also within.

After spending two weeks together, the both of you enjoyed each other's presence despite just touring the city with each other. The odd familiarity and comfort you both shared had grown, and you both secretly yearned for more. 

Krystal bit her tongue as she waited for you to take the initiative as you did the same. Eventually, she couldn't take it. She called your phone, asking if you'd be down to visit her in her room for some games to alleviate her boredom. Little did you know, she had something else planned.

"Krystal? Hey– I– Yeah, I'd love that actually. I'll be there in a bit."

You grabbed your things and made your way over, waving to your dad on the way in. The man sat behind the counter and smiled warmly, enjoying his peace while there wasn't the issue of guests checking in.

Arriving at her room, you knocked gently on the door. Krystal opened it, welcoming you with the sight of her in a comfortable outfit of a white tank top and some pink pants. Her hair cascaded in loose, free–flowing waves. The sight took you by surprise, such a casual set of clothes and yet she still is breathtakingly gorgeous.

"Hey, please, come in," Krystal greeted with an inviting smile.

You stepped inside, your eyes momentarily roaming her figure. You weren't as subtle as you wanted to be as Krystal caught wind of that. You looked around the room as you waited for her. "Thanks for inviting me, I'll leave the game choice up to you."

"Oh, I've got something in mind. Stay right here while I get everything ready," Krystal replied, guiding you to the couch.

As you sat down, you could hear some rustling and searching happening behind you. "Hey, do you need any help?" You offered. You were met with a reassuring no. After a while, Krystal placed a deck of cards on the coffee table, along with a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of red wine.

She sat down next to you, your thighs brushing against hers gently. Krystal picked up the deck of cards. "Ever played strip poker?"

A smile tugged at your lips, and your heart raced. "S–Strip poker? Not exactly... but I'm down to give it a try," you replied, glazing at her with a slight hint of lust in your eyes.

Krystal bit her lower lip, a playful shine washing over her eyes. "Alrighty then, strip poker's one main rule is that the loser has to take off one piece of clothing. Fair?"

"Sounds good to me."

With a smile she began shuffling the cards before handing them to you to do the same. Krystal dealt them out, and you both set about plalying. The game was intense, the suspense ran rampant as card after card fell, revealing the fates of your pieces of clothing. The hours passed quickly, and the room grew warmer as you both shed more layers. Krystal's tank top clung to her curves as you sat across from her in just your boxers. The wine wasn't helping either, making you both tipsy.

"Looks like you're the current loser~" Krystal teased, her eyes lingering on your chest.

With a devious and slightly inebriated grin, you reached over and pulled her tank top off, revealing her supple A–Cup breasts partially concealed by a black lace bra. Krystal's breath hitched and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

What you did finally clicked in your mind as you stood there, mouth agape and completely shocked at what you'd just done. Eyes wide, you stared at her, unable to move or do anything else.

The game paused, with both of you locked in each other's gaze, the air was thick with an unspoken desire. A few moments later, she leaned in, her lips hovering above yours as she whispered, "I think you've made your intentions pretty clear... and I can't say I don't feel the same way... Let's just end the game here."

You nodded, a trembling exhale escaped both your lips, and finally the two of you surrendered yourselves to the passion. She stood up, and sauntered over to you, straddling your lap with a swaying motion. She claimed your lips in a fiery kiss as your hands traveled each other's bodies, yearning for the touch you've both been craving for weeks.

Your hands continued to explore each other's bodies. Her soft breasts fit so perfectly into your hand as you kneaded them. You shifted your position a little, allowing you to pay special attention to her midriff, kissing and nibbling at every inch of her skin. Krystal shivered under your touch, her moans growing louder.

"Mmmh, aahh~ Y/N, that..." she gasped, her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

You slid down her body, your mouth watering to taste her. You began with small kisses near her belly button before slowly parting her legs. Her soft moans filled the room as you started to pleasure her with your tongue. You prodded and licked her pussy with your tongue, letting your taste buds take in the flavour of her honeyed core.

Krystal's body arched as she let out a guttural moan. "Mmmm, Y/N... you feel– you're doing so fucking well..."

Two of your fingers joined your tongue, teasing her, and bringing her ever closer to the edge. Krystal's body tensed, you could see her eyes screwed shut, her hand gripping the sides of your head. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck yes... don't you dare stop..."

You gave her insides a few more licks before withdrawing your mouth from her. She looked at you with a mixture of lust, desperation and slight frustration. Her eyes begged for you to continue. You grinned, leaving a trail of kisses along her inner thighs, all the way up to her soft and sweet lips. "Hold on, we're just getting started~" you whispered into her ear.

A smug smirk appeared on her lips as her body relaxed slightly, returning your kisses as you repositioned her onto her back. Her legs draped over your shoulders as you two settled in the missionary position. Your lips connected in a passionate and sloppy kiss as she began to reach her arm out towards the dresser.

"Wait, Y/N."

"Mmmh– yeah?" You pulled away momentarily to see she'd pulled out a condom packet.

"I know we both want it as raw as possible... and I really want you to just knock me up, but since it's our first time, let's use these."

"Oh shit, yeah– of course."

Fearing she ruined the momentum, she brought her lips to yours once more as she tore out one of the condoms. Her hands were soft and gentle as she reached in between your sweaty bodies to sheath your member with the rubber.

Before long, it was on and you were both set to begin deeper exploration of one another. Her eyes gazed into yours, never leaving yours as you slowly entered her. Krystal's eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp.

You moved at a steady pace, your thrusts syncing with the deepening of your kisses. Krystal wrapped her arms around your neck, her legs coiling themselves around your waist, encouraging you to go harder, faster, and deeper.

"That's it– Fuck me, Y/N– Harder~" Krystal panted.

You obliged, ramming your hips into her at an even quicker pace, your tip slamming against something inside her. She wasn't calling for a stop so that must mean she's loving it. Her eyes rolled back into her head with every thrust.

Her moans grew louder as you felt her tightening around your shaft. You bit your lip as you began to feel yourself struggle with holding back. After a while, you felt Krystal was ready for a little change. With your cock still buried in her depths, you helped her move onto her hands and knees as you slammed into her in the cowgirl position. You graced her tight ass with a myriad of slaps, leaving a red patch on her cheeks.

She began throwing it back towards you, and before long, she overpowered you. She adjusted herself to ride you, reverse cowgirl style. You laid on your back as she rode you to kingdom come. She leaned forward as she threw her head back, her breasts swayed with every movement.

"NNGH– THAT'S IT– FUCK ME–" Krystal urged, her voice raspy with desire.

You leaned upwards a little and reached around her. Your hands grasped onto her perky tits and began fondling them. You pinched her nipples and rolled them between your fingers. Krystal's moans became louder and you could feel her walls tightening around you, signaling she was close to climax.

She leaned all the way back, her hands rose to her tits as she squeezed them hard. "FUCK, YESSS~!" she screamed as she came hard, coating your cock in her juices. You continued to thrust into her as she shivered and gasped.

"God fucking damn– Krystal– you're so fucking sexy... I... I love your ass–" you groaned as you squeezed her ass cheeks hard.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she chuckled, "Y/N– I think from now on– I'm all yours– Just fuck me till we're both screaming each other's names~"

You complied, your thrusts becoming faster, harder, and stronger to match her words. You could feel yourself bottoming her out. Krystal eventually flopped forward onto her elbows, her pussy still impaled on your member. You could tell you were both frustrated from the presence of the condom but it had to stay on for safety.

The both of you paused for a brief moment before you helped her move back into doggystyle. You began plunging yourself into her once more, her back arching towards the bed. "God– Just like that, Y/N– You're making me feel so good~"

You could feel it, the sensation building within you. You could feel it building within her too, her walls clenching once more. You gritted your teeth as you did your best to hold back, but the sound of her sultry moans and the sight of her cute ass got the better of you. You were about to explode as she screamed out in pure ecstasy.

"YES– YES– FUCK, I'M CUMMINGG~!" her body shuddered with delight as her arms stretched out. You let out a loud grunt as you began your climax, your thrusts turning erratic and fast. As you pulled out, you flipped Krystal onto her back. She laid there, seductively, her sweaty body splayed out.

"Let me just–" she reached down and peeled the condom off your throbbing member. You stroked your shaft desperately as you brought your fingers to her pussy. Your thumb pressed against her clit while her fingers slid into her at a quickened pace. Krystal's body tensed again, her moans echoed in the room.

She returned the favour, wrapping her delicate fingers around your cock and jerked you off in a cockscrew motion. "That's it– Don't stop, Y/N– You're getting me so close again–" she whimpered. You could sense her orgasm arriving as yours did as well.

You both shared a knowing look as she pulled your face down for a romantic kiss. "Finish on my tits–" she ordered. You obliged, aligning yourself perfectly so that both of you could climax at the same time. You backed away slightly as she spread her legs out and moaned out your name.

It wasn't long before you both let out guttural moans as your orgasms peaked. Krystal drew your eyes to her tits and cleavage, giving you a place to aim your cock at. A moment later,  her chest became covered as you shot ropes all over her pretty little tits. Your fingers were clamped in her pussy as she began squirting hard.

After a while, your movements slowed and you slumped onto the floor, leaving her spread out on the couch. You brought your fingers up to your mouth, they glistened with her bodily juices. You stuck them into your mouth as you tasted her nectar.

As you peered up towards her, you could see her eyes were full of lust. Both of you were slick with sweat, your chests heaving. "Holy fuck– Y/N... You– You're incredible..."

"You were too... I don't think I've ever had sex that good–"

You both giggled, your hearts pounding, your breaths catching as you slowly recovered from the ethereal sexual encounter. Slowly, you both rose to your feet and cleaned up. Afterwards, the two of you slumped back onto the couch and embraced each other tightly. You both snuggled, sharing small and sweet kisses.

"Thank you, for tonight... It's been rough finding love like this in Korea."

"No, thank YOU for inviting me over tonight. But why's that? I'm sure there are plenty of amazing Korean men."

Krystal paused for a while, her face a little uneasy. "Hey, if you aren't comfortable with sharing, you don't have to."

"No, it's not that... it's just..."

You stayed silent, letting her have the floor.

"...I'm actually an idol... and usually it's taboo for us to partake in these kinds of relationships..."

You acknowledged her revelation, bringing her hand up to your lips to kiss it in hopes it'd help make her feel safer.

"Like those K–Pop people– the artists?"

She nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as you kissed her ever so gently.

"Ah, I see... and you can't find love in Korea because it may negatively affect your career, got it... Well, I will say, you've come to the right place. And seeing as we've just had the most amazing sex ever, I'd love to be that little taboo lover of yours~"

Krystal couldn't help but giggle at your proposal. The genuine smile that appeared on her face spoke volumes of how much she appreciated the sentiment. You shared a loving kiss as the both of you basked in the warmth of your embrace.

The two of you continued to spend time together all throughout the night. In the morning, you made the hard decision of heading back home, Krystal playfully pouting and fluttering her eyelids. You gave her a long and loving kiss on the lips before heading out. On the way down you bumped into your father. The both of you shared a knowing look and he ensured you that the rooms were soundproof. You kept that tidbit of information in mind for the future.

And as the next few weeks went by, you shared romantic dinners to late night strolls. You both soaked up every moment, cherishing the opportunity to be together. One such opportunity was a carnival date. It was an example of your carefree bonding, and you both thought you'd spice things up a little with a challenge.

Krystal's eyes sparkled as she led you around the various attractions, her fingers intertwined with yours. "Let's play some games, Y/N. You seem like you'd be good at winning prizes."

Krystal, dressed in a grey top with a pair of sunglasses hanging from its neckline, Adidas shorts, a denim jacket, and her gorgeous brown hair down in slightly messy but still–kept waves. She was the other party in the proposed challenge. As you both go through the challenges, you emerge victorious, a mischievous grin formed on your lips.

"Well, looks like I won~ And as a reward, I want you to treat us to some ice cream and refreshments. How's that sound?"

Krystal rolled her eyes, playfully shaking her head, but relenting nonetheless. Soon, she returned with two cups of ice cream, two bottles of water and a bag of chips. "Here you go, your Highness. Please, enjoy your spoils," she said sarcastically as she handed you one of the ice creams and a bottle of water. The two of you giggled before setting off in search of a private spot to enjoy your treats.

You led her to the perfect secluded bench. Rich greenery offered the both of you privacy as you sat down. Your eyes glistened a little as you watched her get settled onto the bench, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

As you both got situated on the bench, Krystal turned to you and whispered into your ear. "So, what do you think of all this? I mean– like we both OBVIOUSLY like each other, and y'know... there's definitely something special between us... I know you said you wanted to be my little taboo secret but... shall we make it official?"

"I think we should. Or at least we should try and make it work," you responded, your voice hushed yet firm. "I promise we'll figure it all out. Besides, if things go south, you could come and stay here with me~"

Krystal chuckled as she playfully smacked your arm. She placed a sweet and lingering kiss before pulling away. "Oh yeah, you wish, right?"

You wrapped your arm around her as you both cuddled on the bench. Krystal couldn't help but blush as she felt your arm around her waist, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. Her surprise was evident when you began to caress her thigh. She allowed herself to let go, indulging in the moment. As your hand slipped beneath her shorts, she gasped softly, only to stifle her moan with her hand while you fingered her.

Krystal let out more soft moans as your lips continued to meet hers. The PDA intensified with each movement. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried biting her lips to suppress the growing moans. She could feel herself surrendering to you under your touch.

Your fingers moved with skill and expertise as your mouth met her breasts. She raised her denim jacket to conceal the inappropriate act as her hips began to rock against your fingers, pushing them even deeper. She felt more alive than ever, the illicitness of the act... on a public bench in the middle of the day... she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins.

It wasn't long till her body spasmed, cumming from the sheer pleasure you brought her. But as she came down from her high, she looked dazed. She urged you to find a more hidden spot and you decided to lead her to the men's bathroom. She stood up and straightened herself out, her eyes lingering on the bulge in your pants. A devilish grin crossed her face as she sneakily entered the men's restroom with you.

The both of you shambled into a stall, your lips unable to leave the other. Inside the stall, you began to undress her, leaving her completely exposed except for ther shoes. She obediently lifted her, granting you easier access to her slit. You began pleasuring her again, this time with a combination of your mouth and fingers. The stall's soundproofing against the bustling restroom allowed her to surrender fully to the pleasure.

Krystal's moans grew in intensity, her legs quivered as you inserted a third finger. Every time you plunged your digits into her, her body reacted. The wet squelching sounds echoed within the stall. As the restroom grew busier, she tried her best to suppress her moans. Each time someone would knock on the stall door, she'd give subtle knocks back.

Seeing how ready she was, you removed your own clothes. You placed them on top of the toilet basin with hers. You positioned yourself in between her legs, one lifted over your shoulder and the other steady on the ground. You shared a look of anticipation and slight anxiety.

"This is gonna be the first time I've done it raw... Give it to me good, alright?"

"Yes ma'am~" you responded before pushing your lips onto hers. As you were both engaged in a sloppy kiss, you plunged your throbbing member into her wet entrance. The raw feeling of her insides made your legs tremble. You wanted to cum at that very moment, but you wanted to at least give her some pleasure.

You began thrusting at a desperate pace. The both of you moaned out each other's names as you felt your tip slamming against her insides. You exchanged saliva as her moans entered your ears like a harmonious tune. Krystal began to shiver and gasp as she climaxed, her juices spraying out onto the stall wall.

You couldn't help but reach down and play with her clit, licking your fingers once in a while to get her taste.

Switching positions, Krystal straddled you on the toilet seat, moving in sync with your body. Your hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer as she started to grind herself against you with a familiar desperation. You matched her rhythm, your hips leaving the seat occasionally.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm..." she moaned softly, her voice tinged with lust.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she continued, her grinds growing more insistent.

Krystal's breathing became erratic, and her movements became more forceful. The sounds of your hips slamming into one another filled the air as you nibbled on her neck. You both could feel the approaching climax.

The accidental collision of your hips with the seat sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she couldn't help but let out a guttural groan. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop..." she whimpered, her nails digging into your shoulders.

As you both approached climax, Krystal's body tensed, her movements wild and unrestrained. "THAT'S IT– FUCK ME, BABY– KNOCK ME UP–" she cried out, her voice shaking with the intensity of her pleasure.

You couldn't tell if she was serious but hearing her voice moan out like that? You couldn't take it. You took one of her soft perky breasts into your mouth as you bucked your hips upwards, burying your member in her depths before exploding, flooding her insides with your hot seed.

With a few final breaths, you both climaxed hard, your bodies quaking intensely as you sat on the toilet seat. You grabbed the sides of each other's face and started a sloppy makeout as you both let the pleasure seap out.

"Holy shit– I– Wow–"

"I know– I've never had sex in public before... but you're making me wanna do it more..."

Krystal chuckled as she leaned back, her body still impaled on your shaft. She looked at the time and realised it was starting to get late. She begrudgingly pulled herself off of you and quickly put her panties back on, sealing the cum inside her. She stood in a cute superhero pose, her perky tits jiggling with each movement.

The both of you cleaned each other up and left the restroom while no one was around. As the sky got dark, you opted to walk Krystal back to the BnB. Your father, already catching onto the brewing relationship, gave you another key for the room, allowing you to stay with her for a bit. You two walked back to Krystal's room, hand in hand, the night was still young. But you both had a long fun–filled day, and it was time to get some rest.

A few days later, the both of you found yourselves at the airport, your faces inches away from the other. She had her luggage with her as she stood there in a white button up and jean shorts. Your eyes brimmed with fake tears as you looked towards the floor, attempting to make her laugh through the sadness of the situation. Krystal, unable to hold back, chuckled before hugging you tightly.

"Aww, you're gonna miss me? I know, I know, baby... You can always come and visit me in Seoul~" she teased with a hint of sadness in her voice as she rubbed your back with her hand.

"Yeah, of course. Every chance I get, I'll be there~" you snapped out of your little fake crying fit to reciprocate the hug. Your arms embraced her tightly as you lifted her off the ground, spinning her around. As you spun, you planted a series of kisses on her forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Promise you'll come back to see me too, you know that room in the BnB will forever be reserved for you~" your sweet words touched her. The both of you couldn't help but cuddle and kiss as if no one else existed around you. Your surroundings faded into nothing as the only thing that mattered was the love you both shared.

With several hours left before her flight, you both decided to make the most of the remaining time. Krystal grabbed your wrist and brought you to the private lounge where she left her baggage at. She pushed you into the restroom and locked the door behind her. Such a bold move, what if someone saw...

She began to undress you methodically. She started with your shirt, undoing your buttons slowly and seductively, kissing your neck as she does so. She then moved to your belt, unbuckling it and pulling it off. Lastly, she undid your pants, letting them fall and pool around your feet.

"Mmmh~ That's a whole lot of man... Luckily for me, he's all mine~"

"All yours, baby–"

She gave you a desperate and fiery kiss before taking a handkerchief out from your shirt pocket and stuffing it into your mouth. "Shhh..." she whispered as she gave you a wink.

She knelt down and pushed your underwear down, revealing your semi–erect cock. She let out a small moan as her eyes remained fixated on your rod. She stood up and pulled you towards the mirror. You faced the mirror as you watched her through the reflection.

She slowly and flirtatiously undressed, giving you long looks at her ample body. You bit down on the handkerchief, reeling from the fact that you couldn't just ravage her right there and then. Well, you could, but there must be a reason she made you face the mirror right?

She removed her top, revealing her beautiful breasts. Your eyes zoned in on her nipples, almost salivating at the sight of them. They were hard nubs because of the cold restroom air. She approached you from behind as she wrapped her hands around your shaft. Your eyes widened as a muffled moan escaped from your handkerchief.

Krystal began to stroke you, her hand moving in slow deliberate cockscrews. She would occasionally spit on your cock for extra lubrication. She whispered into your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

As her hands went into a rhythm, her grip tightened, and she started to pump you up and down. You could feel her thumb cradling your cockhead, rubbing the precum slicked head in slow and sloppy circles. Each pump became faster, a loud squelching sound emitted from your cock as her saliva mixed with your precum. Your shaft would glisten with the mixture, reflecting the fluorescent lights of the washroom.

"Mmmh~ Y/N, I bet you're gonna cum so hard for me, right? You wanna cover my delicate hands with your thick... creamy... hot seed, huh?" Krystal's warm breath tickled your earlobe, her lips grazing it. "Feel my fingers... feel them moving up and down your hard... throbbing cock... You like that, don't you?"

The sensation of her hot breath, her hand and the mirror's reflection of her had you on edge. You neared the brink of ecstasy as she increased her pace. The sound of her wrist slapping against your stomach. Her hand glided on your shaft smoothly. The sounds that were emanating from the activity were loud and erotic.

You could see her tongue licking her lips every so often through the reflection in the mirror. It was like she was staring at her favourite meal. And you liked that. You liked feeling like her beloved snack. Because in your eyes, that was what she was to you.

Her hand twisted, coaxing your cock to release more precum and increase the lubrication. You could feel her nails slightly brushing against your shaft, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Cum for me, baby~ Show me... Show me how much you'll miss me... I know I'll miss touching you... So go on, darling... Show me~"

You couldn't hold it any longer, your semen began pooling at the base of your cock. Krystal sensed it too, and without warning, her hands began moving at a furious pace. You let go. Your body shuddered and spasmed as you erupted, shooting globs of hot cum all over her hands, the mirror and the sink. Her hands kept working you, milking you for every last drop before eventually slowing to a stop.

You panted and grunted as your body trembled from the pleasure. She looked at the mess you made all over the mirror, her tongue running over her lips, a wicked grin on her face.

"Ah, how was that for a parting gift? I hope it was worth it..." her voice trailed off as she playfully pouted. She brought her hand up to her lips and licked all of your cum off her hands.

She pulled the handkerchief out of your mouth and kissed you passionately before leading you both to the toilet seat. She shedded her jean shorts. You sat down, eagerly as she mounted you, pushing your face in between her pointy tits. You couldn't help but rub your face on them, letting your tongue lick her hardened nubs.

She grinded her hips against yours, the warm wetness of her pussy smeared against your cock.

"Mmm~ Look how wet you've made me... You'll have to take responsibility for this..." she purred, her voice tinged with lust.

You were quick to tease her, sticking two of your fingers inside her. Her walls tightened and spasmed around them. You began to finger her as she continued to grind on your throbbing member. The two of you matched the other's rhythm, the sounds of hips slamming against one another filled the room.

Her moans gradually grew louder as your fingers increased their pace, moving in and out of her. Adding a third finger, you watched her body tense up as she arched her back, pulling you further into her fragrant chest. Krystal swayed, her body reacting to the stimulation as the wet squelching of her insides echoed throughout the room.

"Ahhn~ Y/N, I need–" she moaned, a guttural groan escaping her lips.

"Fuck me, Y/N– please– I want you inside me–" she begged. You looked up into her eyes as they pleaded for the chance to have you ravage her insides one last time.

You obliged, sliding your cock into her wet and warm slit. The feeling of raw penetration sent waves of shivers all throughout your body. You began bucking your hips up into her at a steady pace. You held her hips tightly as you buried your face into her cleavage. Her walls were slick, clinging onto your member.

"Krystal–" you mumbled. Her sultry voice boomed with breathy moans as you continued to bottom her out.

"Goddamn– You're so tight– I fucking love it–" you added.

She met every one of your thrusts with a matching motion, her body moved with desperate hunger. You couldn't help but nibble on her nipples and neck, leaving light marks. The both of you could feel the frenzied lust taking over.

"Fuck, Y/N– That's it, don't stop– Don't you dare, baby–" she cried out, her grip on your shoulder tightening. You slammed into her, your speed increasing. Krystal moaned louder than ever before, her voice echoing through the small restroom.

Suddenly, her body began to spasm as she came hard. She threw her head back as her body shook and twitched. You continued to slam into her, her insides clenching and releasing you. After a few more thrusts, her eyelids fluttered open as she leaned towards you.

"That's it– Fuck me– KNOCK ME UP–" she wailed, her body tensing, her movements becoming more erratic.

The feeling of the toilet rubbing against your hips increased the intensity of her climax. You felt yourself reaching your boiling point as well. You threw your mouth onto her tits, your body shivering. As you felt yourself start to shake, you connected your lips with hers.

"I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU–" she moaned, her voice muffled by your rough kisses.

Your thrusts became more intense, your hips leaving the seat a couple of times. You let out a loud groan, and your cock twitched inside her. Krystal screamed, her body shaking.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N–" she cried out, her voice shaking.

Together, the both of you reached a powerful climax, the second or third one for her during this session. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through your entire body. You flooded her insides with your hot seed, your bodies quaking intensely.

You panted heavily as you shared a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing. The pleasure began to subside, and the both of you slowly calmed down.

"I fucking love you... Krystal... I don't think I will ever find anyone like you ever again..."

"I love you too, Y/N… But me neither... Ah shit, my flight's boarding soon..."

The both of you reluctantly got up and cleaned yourself off. You shared a long and passionate kiss before you both exited the stall, looking as though nothing had happened. You walked her to the boarding gate, right before she crossed over. With a final hug, you smiled, your tears falling down your cheeks.

"Don't forget me, Krystal... Don't let those Korean men get you while I'm gone..."

"Don't worry, baby~ I'm all yours and you're all mine... I'll text you when I land, alright?" she reassured you. You held her close. She nodded, her face contorting with sadness. With a final kiss, you both pulled away. She waved as she entered the departure area.

As you turned away, you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

"I LOVE YOU, Y/N~!"

You shedded a tear as you returned the sentiment.

"I LOVE YOU TOO, KRYSTAL!"

And with that she ran off to catch her flight, leaving you a small ache in your heart.

"I'll always love you... Krystal Jung..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[caffienemocha]

Ace from One Piece please

(oh boy oh boy I'm getting out of my hiatus for this one. BTW THIS IS A SHORT FAN FIC because I've been in a tight schedule and this was just a short ramble :0)

<WARNING: NSFW AHEAD so minors DNI >> any readers that doesn't identify as a male DNI!! >>

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ PORTGAS D. ACE X MALE READER ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

˗ˏˋ 'lemme make it up to you ˎˊ˗

You asked yourself, how did you end up being the boyfriend of the infamous Portgas D. Ace? Although he seems like a cocky, cool, and composed fellow, he's actually pretty clumsy and a dumbass most of the time. You take care of his mess, cook food for him three times a day (not including his midnight snacks), the usual house husband type of stuff. Although he sails around the sea, embarking with the Whitebeard Pirates gathering treasures and casually causing chaos and annoyance to wandering Marine in the area, Ace still holds a fair share of help in the house that rested near the dock the two you live in by giving you an allowance to buy groceries and things you want and need. Ace isn't the perfect boyfriend and he knows it. The countless nights you've slept alone without Ace by your side from his sailings, and even when he returns, he'll either leave in a short while, a few days or even a day after. He tries to make it up to you, by trying to cheer you up with gifts, affection, or straight up session after session of love-making. That doesn't fill the emptiness in your heart though, you wanted Ace to stay for a bit longer, you wanted him to at least stay for a few weeks. You wanted him to take you on dates like the first weeks of you two being boyfriends, you wanted him to treat you like a prince and pamper you as much as he did those years ago. But it was a duty of a pirate to sail the blue oceans, cross the seas, hunt for treasures, and wipe those oppose them, only to come back for a short while before leaving again. Again, you asked yourself, how'd you ended up for someone who isn't there for you most of the time?

..."I'm home." The door creaked open as the salty breeze of the sea nearby went inside the house as Ace took off his shoes and placed it right by the door before closing it and locking it. Holding a small box of treasure full of gold, jewels, and other gems, Ace took off his hat as he went inside the cozy abode, placing the box on the center table. "Welcome back, Ace." You greeted your taller boyfriend with a warm smile as you came out the kitchen, the aroma coming from the room behind you smelled magically and comforting for Ace, he hadn't eaten for a while. "There's my baby. C'mere." He softly chuckled as you took steps forward to his muscular figure who had his arms open wide, wanting to hug you after a few weeks apart. With a sigh of amusement, you hugged him back as your rugged clothes rubbed against his exposed torso. "I missed you so bad, why do you have to be gone for so long..." You said in a whiny tone, as if begging him to stay more longer than usual. Ace's instinct immediately had his arms wrapped around your smaller frame, his muscled arms comforting you. "I know, babe, I know...we already had this conversation before. The seas are big." Ace sighed as if wanting to stay like this forever but his stomach gurgled in response, betraying his thoughts as he let out a nervous laugh, "Quite hungry." "Obviously, you knucklehead." You replied sarcastically. "What're you cooking? Smells delicious." Ace asked with the familiar smile you've been wanting to see after the past few days. "You'll see, c'mon." As you grabbed his arm, you immediately lead him to the kitchen with a pot placed atop a stove, releasing steams of flavorful aroma that lingered around the room. "How about you take a seat while I prepare your food?" Ace only nodded at your words before going out of the kitchen, sitting in the living room as he whistled. Grabbing the pot cover, you grabbed a bowl as you used your ladle to scoop up the delicious stew you've cooked and tenderized ever since this morning. Serving it atop of freshly, cooked rice, you stepped out of the kitchen holding a bowl and a spoon for Ace to use to chow down. Placing it in front of him, the aroma hit Ace's nose as the delicious bowl of protein and rice laid before him. "Looks delicious, babe. Thanks." He said before grabbing it and chowing it all down spoon after spoon.

"So, what have you been up to while I was gone?" Ace asked in between bites and chewing. The question caught you off-guard, why so sudden? Yet you answered. "The usual. Clean the house, walk around the dock, watch the sea, buy groceries..." Your voice faded with a mutter as you scratched the back of your head. Ace knew something was wrong, something that signaled him that you truly need him. That he'll stay longer than what he usually does so. Ace didn't replied back until he was finished with his bowl of food, drinking water to wash it all down. Without warning, Ace then pinned you to the chair you're sitting on, his eyes nonchalant yet a glimmer of care and worry shining on his pupils. "Tell me what's wrong. You've missed me so much than usual, huh? Is that right?" He interrogated you as he continued pressing your wrist down the rails of the chair, his face mere inches away from yours. You let out a blush of flustered feelings and a scoff. "You're always gone, of course I've missed you..." You replied in a muttered voice, Ace let out a smirk as he got closer to your face, his freckles adoring his already handsome complexion. "'Lemme make it up to you then, babe." Without warning, he carried you on his shoulders as he went to the bedroom, locking it just after he, and along you on his shoulders, came in and throwing you to bed. "I always remembered you like it rough, you little masochist."

Out of his back revealed a rope, placing it roughly beside your body as the taller male ripped you out of your clothes, placing the torn linen to the floor. Your cute little body obviously turned him on, seeing how his noticeable, massive bulge on his crotch. "I'm gonna make it up to you- I'll go rougher than usual ... so better say yes or no before I ravage your entire body and leave it sore."

[🔥] like for part 2

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[todayimfour]

AGERE SOOS!!

BECAUSE I CANT HANDLE HOW YALL HAVE IGNORED MY BOY

And headcannons because mwah I love you 💕

I feel like he'd just describe his regression as "having some kid time"

Okay so no set age range, he's just a kid! Sometimes he's younger than others but he's fairly self sufficient.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be babied!! And his regression is absolutely triggered (positively) by important people doting on him.

Grandma made cookies? "Sweet!! Thanks granny :)" Stan nodded approvingly at a repair he did? An almost silent "yuss"

He absolutely made a copy of Stan's hat out of paper and got really sad when the marker he used made the paper wet and thin so it didn't stay up right, but then he got the idea to use red construction paper and oh yeah it's coming together now!!

He's got one of those pens with a bunch of colours and uses it to doodle little ninja dudes on sticky notes, they're all cutting fruit and he leaves the sticky notes everywhere.

Also it's fun to take apart and put back together as a fidget.

"hey dudes I found this pen with like- nine different colors. I could draw so many fruit ninjas with this- like apples or strawberries or.. hey I need to look up more fruits!"

His regression isn't very noticeable if that makes sense? Like he's just so openly regressed like half the time that no one bats an eye when he does something childish because 'thats just how Soos is'

He's got a favorite cup and it's an off brand snack cup that has the spot for your snacks built into the lid. Stan bought a bunch for the store with the mystery shack logo and one had a defect so he let Soos keep it

He uses it basically every day, all the time, everywhere. "It's just so convenient!!"

Throughout the series (or I guess as summer progresses) Stan gets closer with Soos and I think this plays into Soos's regression in a positive way. Stan doesn't exactly become his caregiver but he watches for Soos, makes sure he's doing okay and draws with him from time to time.

(⁠人 ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ•

The board was made using PicsArt! None of the art was mine it was all found on the app!

Side note, for anyone curious, I'm still not really back from my hiatus. I'm trying to front more, I really am. Dennys is still the host for now- I was just supposed to front for a little bit and then I saw that Gravity Falls was kicking again on Tumblr so I had to make this. Have a great day/night!! -Ghostly

Tags!!! Aaa!! I have a taglist now I guess :D

@nottapossum @grauntiemotersblog

[ilovechuuy4]

₊˚⊹♡Kinktober Week Two ๋࣭ ⭑Face Sitting & Cock Rings

Specifically Nikolai x Reader

Warnings; Cock Rings, face sitting, highly nsfw, overstimulation, descriptions of privates being ate out??, etc etc.

A/n; guys i just dont know what yall want any more literally everything i post is just flopping. But like i said, after new year's im taking a long hiatus, ill still post prolly every once a month but again, i wont post as much anymmore cause i have college stuff and schooling in general.

Saying you were hesitant to do this was an understatement. You were scared, petrified even, the thought of sitting on your lover's face wasn't on your "want to do" list. Oh but of course, this clown knew how to talk you into it. Telling you he'd be find and he nor you would get hurt. Hes so kinda and loving but sorta manipulative at times, never in a bad way of course. So that's what dragged you here, hovering yourself over Nikolai's face, thighs trembling from how long you've contemplated if you truely wanted to do this. The white haired man's arms wrapped around your trembling thighs, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs. "My dove, cmon. I promise I won't suffocate or anything!" He teased with a smile, pointy teeth edging through as he continues.

"Besides, I think I'd like it if I suffocate by these pretty thighs." He hummed, he was needy, impatient even, not only cause he wanted to taste you but you were slowly strocking his cock which had a cock ring wrapped around tightly. He hated this, he couldn't cum and you won't let him taste you? Insane! He wouldn't have it, so he took matters into his own hands, like they weren't already. Fingers tightly gripping your hips and pulling you down, a gasp escaped you as his mouth met your entrance. The clown's tongue lapping at your sensitive hole like a dog that needed water. Soft cries and moans leaving you as your hips tentivly grind down into his face. Nikolai groaned, lankey digits digging into your plush thighs.

Your back arched up like a cat's, your own hands cupping over your mouth as you stiffiled some moans. Nikolai continues to work your entrance, tongue delving inside, probing your insides as he groaned, hips rolling in the air. This godforsaken cock ring, it literally cursed him. But as soon as your lover felt your hand wrap around his hard and throbbing length, making his breath hitched. His fingers digging into your skin, leaving faint marks from his grip. He could feel you strock him slowly, his hips thrusting a bit in your hand. Fuck this was too much for him he couldn't bare the thought of not being able to release. So why not just tease his beautiful dove? His digits gripping your ass firmly, squeezing each sphere of flesh 'nd meat in his palms. His mouth pulling away, causing you to let out a quiet whine.

"Look at you, my dove, you're so needy for me, hmm?" He couldn't help but chuckle, biting your inner thigh a bit harshly. "Mhmp.. Cmon this isn't fair.. I'll stop teasing." You grumbled with a slight pout of the lip, but you most definitely were lying. Nikolai knew this much but still dipped back in, tongue finding your tight heat once more and lapping at it with soft groans. "My, my you taste delicious, delectable even." He said against you, tongue delving back inside you, feeling your walls squeeze around his tongue. "Ahh~ it feels good.. Mhmp~" You moaned, eyes closing as you roughly grind yourself against Nikolai's face. Your hand found the others cock once again, pumping it in your hand.

"Mhm, my sweet.." The white haired man groaned once more into your skin, eyes closed as he tasted your sweet essence. Precum was already dripping from his member, but he couldn't have that release he craved because of that godforsaken ring that blocked him from 'freedom'. "I think I'm gonna cum." You gasp as your boyfriend's tongue continued to explore your tightness. Pre filling Nikolai's mouth, a growl escaping him at the sweet yet salty flavor. His tongue starting to 'assult' your insides, your entire being jolting, tears bubbling in your eyes as you finally reach your peak. The other's eyes widen a tad as he felt you finally reach peak, your essence all over his tongue as he swallowed it down.

"Amazing, you did absolutely beautiful, my pretty dove." He soothed you through your intense orgasm, helping you off where you pant on his face. "Ha.. That felt good.." You admitted with a faint blush, you fumble a bit, fingers wrapping around the cock ring around Nikolai's erect. Once it was pulled off he quite literally busted. A thick string of ejaculation shooting from his tip as he painted heavily, face mixed with lust and embarrassment. "Ah.. Alright dove let's get this cleaned up.. You did great." He said between quiet pants, rubbing the small of your back.

[twiixr4kidz]

Hii can you do like reader sleeping on seven evil exes lap hehe I Also love ur writing!!♡

tysm!!! also apologies for how late this is i was on a hiatus ;^;

sleeping on the evil exes!!

matthew patel

he tears up a little bit

one second, you're awake and talking to him and the next, you're knocked out and drooling on his leg

he thinks you look adorable (he didn't take a picture of you what are you talking about)

he's also like, uncontrollably giggling and smiling over the fact that YOU!! FELL ASLEEP!! ON HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!

lucas lee

on the outside, he's like "hell yeah this is awesome" but you know DAMNNNN well he's screaming internally

lucas has this habit of acting like a badass on the outside but any time you do something, he's filled with an overwhelming amount of joy

he sits there with you sleeping on him for as long as he can

eventually his legs start falling asleep, so he sneakily moves your head off of his lap and onto a pillow

he also covers you up with a blanket or his jacket or whatever is around just so you don't get cold

todd ingram

treats you like a sleeping kitten

if only you were awake to see the smile on his face when he realize you were asleep, you probably would've melted

he'll run his fingers through your hair as he mumbles something under his breath about how he wishes this moment could last forever

eventually, he falls asleep sitting up

bro is hella dedicated to keep you nice and comfortable!!!

roxie richter

she honestly doesn't notice at first

she's just talking to you, telling you about her day or something that happened in this show that she's been watching, and you're not responding

at first she's like "what the heck, y/n?" and then when she realizes you're asleep, she's like "OHHHHHH" and then she's like "OH?? OH MY GOD???"

note, she's whisper-screaming to herself because she doesn't wanna wake you up

she's the kind of girl who can fall asleep anywhere, so she gets comfy next to you and crashes too

kyle katayanagi

very similarly to roxie, he's probably telling one of his crazy party stories when he realizes you're asleep

instead of stopping, he lowers his voice and keeps talking

he'll just keep telling stories until he falls asleep or until you wake up

his hand is resting on your arms as he draws circles with his thumb on it

he's really enjoying the fact that you trust him enough to just pass out on his lap like that

and you're definitely gonna get an earful of it when you wake up, because who is kyle if NOT a tease??

ken katayanagi

he's usually reading, so it takes him a moment to realize you're out

he smiles to himself, softly saying how you should've gone to bed when he said, but he still thinks it's cute

ken'll start reading to you too

he isn't sure why he does it

maybe it's something about the soothing, intimate nature of reading a book to somebody, or maybe it's just because he's ken and that's what he does

he'll bring you to bed when he's done with the chapter

he wants you to sleep well and NOT have a sore neck when you wake up, how sweet :))

gideon graves

he's a very busy guy, so this isn't new

actually it happens quite a lot

he'll get home late and you'll be falling asleep on the couch waiting for him

he greets you sweetly, sitting down next to you and putting on your favorite show to watch together

he knows that when you rest your head on his lap, you're going to fall asleep and he's more than okay with it

as much as he does love it, he tries not to get home so late that it happens in the first place

[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (m) (16)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: (fluff, angst, and smut) abo/werewolf,  fantasy

Rating: 18+/nsfw

Word Count: 14.3k (We really said it's been almost a year so we're going to write thirty plus pages)

Summary:

At the bathhouse, you discover your alpha is much worse is off than you originally anticipated. You tend to him, but some scars never fade.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER INJURY, LOTS OF BLOOD MENTIONS, GORE, MENTIONS OF BROKEN BONES, MENTIONS OF LOSS OF BODY PARTS, dom!jungkook, alpha!jungkook, sub!reader, omega!reader, cursing, praising, possessive!jungkook, teasing, marking, manhandling

Author's Note:

It's been awhile since I updated. Honestly, the grown-up life is rough. That's all I really have to say to answer for the extended hiatus with this story and my other one. Mental health has been going up and down periodically and it really was so hard to write through it all. I spent about two weeks going back and forth with the chapter. I wondered if it would ever make it to a post several times because things kept getting deleted. I finally decided to just sit down and write and not stop. This is the final result. Thirty-one pages. I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry that this isn't the long-awaited mating chapter that I know you guys all really want to see, but it is important to me that the characters are nuanced and that their connection is not one built purely on the basis of desire. Sure, that is part of it, but there's much more to it. So much more depth and meaning when we build relationships with people. Especially romantic ones. Enjoy!

To read more, click here for the masterlist.

“O-over there, alpha,” you quietly suggest, “It would be easier for me to-“ you flounder in flusterment when the strong arm circled around your front curls possessively around you- “I-It would be easier for m-me to tend to you if you sat down on the bench.”

The male makes a deep, rumbling sound as he draws in another heavy breath of your intoxicating pheromones, “As you wish. But it will cost you for being so irresistible.”  

The sound goes straight to your cunt, and you have to bite into your cheek to keep from making the sound of need that your wolf begs you to release. You shift where you stand, hoping that the quaint press of your thighs together will somehow trap the slick from where it is secreted from your sex.

“What…what is the price I must pay for my transgression?” You ask, hoping that balms, ointments, and medicinal solutions splayed on the tray you hold in your hands don’t fall from how much your heart pounds in your chest.

It’s hard enough as it is not to look down, for he is completely, utterly, and mouth-wateringly naked. 

“Two things,” his uninjured arm tightens even more around your front, his hand bunching itself in your skirt as he groans at the fresh scent of desire that drifts from you. “The first is you will not leave my sight. I want you as near to me as you can be.” He noses at the side of your throat, your lashes fluttering in the warm sensation of his breath as he utters, “It was a second hell to leave you after that duel and be without you, but I wanted to respect the tradition–and your decision– had you chosen to prepare yourself for me.”

His words have affection swirling in your chest.

This male really was something special. Even after battling three other wolves and being severely injured on your behalf, he still put your needs before his own.

And really, how could you deny him his request when that was all that you wanted, deep down? To just be by his side. Forever his loyal, loving, doting mate.

“You needn’t ask me that, alpha, for it was already in my mind.” You faintly confess.

He likes that answer.

You know based on the way he presses his mouth to the oily gland along your throat. It is gentle and soft, and it is so different from what you’d seen on the glen not too long ago during his duel.

So much violence and so much pain he was capable of bringing, but with you, he would never harm a hair on your head.  So great was his love for you that he would protect you from that even if it meant taking those scars onto his body.

He’d given his oath to you that he would do exactly that, and gods, he had kept to it.

It is why you let him maneuver you forward away from the watery basin you’d found him in and toward the long ebony wood bench that almost stretches from one end of the chamber to the other. A tall pillar of white wax holds a flickering wick that is set in brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling on each side of the bench, and in front of its legs are caged candles guarded by glass that have high, bright flames.

“How agreeable you are being. If you can so easily agree to that, then the second of my terms is this.” He turns you both before the front of your knee can make contact with the wood, the arm he has encircled around your waist spinning you so that you face him.

His hand never leaves your side, his fingers remaining entrenched in the sea of your skirts. Somehow, none of the vials fall from the tray you clutch onto.

Golden irises that burn with more intensity than the fire beside him have you utterly struck by their luminousness as he demands, “You will promise me that if this,” he jerks his chin toward his mangled form, “is too much for you, you will tell me. I said before that I only wanted you to tend to me, and I meant it. But if you are uncomfortable, you must say so.”

Again, he was putting you first. Despite the fact that he was hurting, he was still choosing your comfort over his own.

Just how much more could your heart swell for this male?

You shake your head, finding your voice full of doubtlessness and confidence that surge into you as you say, “I want to do this, alpha. I spent years studying the art of medicine and herbal treatments so that I could one day use it to help others.” You rise on your tiptoes to osculate your lips against his. “I would be lying if I told you I hadn’t secretly wanted to learn it mostly for situations like this.”

He smirks against you, his mouth lingering near yours as he teasingly prods, “Situations like this? Are you saying that you thought about getting me shirtless and all alone so you could touch me under the guise of that excuse?”

Heat races to your cheeks and that confidence you’d had before vanishes with it. Soon, you’re blushing as you blurt, “No! I mean, yes! I mean….alpha!”

Years ago, you had never entertained the idea that this male before you would ever become yours. That you would ever be able to have a moment like this with him. He had been a constant thought in your mind from the moment you’d first laid eyes on him when you’d been but children, and as you both grew older, his presence in your mind and thoughts had only grown stronger.

But apart from your dreams and musings, he’d been so far for you to reach with all the duties and responsibilities that had been thrust on you from such a young age. So many other omegas had vied for his attentions, and with all of them clamoring for one look in their direction whenever he had returned to the compound from his exploits deep in the forest or in the forge where he had been stationed, you had never been able to get close enough with a constant herd of wolves –female and male alike– around him.

His rank had drawn many to him, each of them hoping that the next in line to be the ruler of the pack would select them to be part of his inner circle. Any selected by him would instantly rise in rank upon his ascendance to becoming Pack Alpha, and so naturally he had had to be guarded in his interactions and limited in his contact with others beyond his work in the forge as the pack’s only blacksmith beside his father.

Rumors had spread fast in his unannounced absences that he would take with his father for increasing increments of time the older he became, because when he returned to work at the forge, there were bags under his eyes that had become more mature, had become hardened with the calluses on his hands as he worked them day after day.

Sometimes he would return with a new wound on his body that he tried to hide under the various furs he draped over his body. You knew because of the chitter of the omegas that would inevitably gossip about in front of the fire in the omegean den on your way back to your chambers after a long night in the archives that you went to after you left the schoolhouse for the day.

Those were the nights that you found your paws bearing down on the grassy ground as you ran through the hills deep in the woodland in your journey toward your favorite creek that was tucked away behind a wall of vines, deep into the forest, that no one but you knew about.

Or so you had thought.

He’d been there, too. From a distance, of course. From the moment you stepped out of your chambers, he’d been able to smell you. The wind had a cunning way of carrying that to him no matter where he was, and he was helpless to the wolf in him he had been learning to control that bayed and bayed until he listened and tracked that captivating scent that made everything else in the world fade away.

You wonder, as he urges you between his legs that he opens for you in invitation to stand between, just how much he had to sacrifice to be sitting before you now.

Your alpha observes your expressions change from embarrassment to concentrated concern, and he tugs on the invisible cord tying you both together that is the bond you now share. You let him in without hesitation, your thoughts becoming known to him as he draws on the connection.

He can hear your thoughts, can feel your emotions, can see your memories if he taps into it. In the developing stage of the bond, you wish you knew how to show him all of your dreams of him, all of your memories of him, and all your thoughts that you’ve ever had of him.

There’s something that you want him to see, but gods, your voice just won’t work the way you want it to under the emotion that cracks and breaks it. So, you let him see a memory you’d kept buried deep in the trenches of your mind for many, many moons. One that no one but he would ever carry.

It had been a rainy, stormy night. So heavy was the rain that it pelted your skin even through the thick coat of your white fur as you’d torn through the earth with paws too eager to rush you away from the center of your stresses and away to the woodland where it all melted away with the streaks of color that passed by you in your inhuman speed as you ran, ran, and then ran some more.

Thunder had rumbled through the sky on this particular night so loud that even your eardrums rang after the deafening strikes of sound that cut through the sky as lightning flashed before your eyes from under the  canopy of trees.

The forest was vast, but that night, it had seemed all too small for you.

You hadn’t stopped until your lungs screamed for air, your haunches burning from how hard you’d pushed them, the bolt of white light in the sky similar to the color of the flame that had burned in the stone fireplace set in the middle of the wall on one end of your chambers while you’d carefully, attentively read the letter left to you on your windowsill.

Such a beautiful poem about a boy who had come to love the girl he admired from afar. And so meticulous had each letter been etched onto the parchment. You knew whoever had written it had taken much time to compose it with each swirl and curve of each syllable.

 You had left it on your bed while you had gone to find another book to hide yet another letter from your secret admirer with no name, but had not noticed the shadow that had swept under your door to reveal your father, who had taken one look at the letter on your duvet before anger had turned him cruel at the prospect of his perfect little girl being corrupted by some hormonal male.

He'd cast the parchment into the fire despite your ardent pleas not to, the tears falling quickly when he’d let that fury burn you with pokers of curses and chastisements for your lack of purity.

He had always been adamant that you were to study the ways of the pack and devote yourself to teach its art to the youth. Those letters, to him, were nothing but distractions.  Distractions that made you no better than the common whore in the fantasies they would ineluctably fill your head with.

Or so he had said.

That was why you had found yourself bounding through the forest that night with tears in your eyes not even the rain could wash away. But that night, fate had had other ideas.

You’d intended to go to the cave by the creek. You had never made it inside.

You’d stopped behind one of the oak trees on the edge of the forest floor before the soil turned to rock by the stream, the wide-mouthed cave beyond occupied by two figures.

Just by the smell of them, you knew they were of the same blood. One was older with their more muted, aged smell and one was younger.

You knew the scent of the younger one. That scent of blooming gardenia, pear and black vanilla. The same one that lingered on the letters left to you on your windowsill.

Each time the lightning pierced the black sky, their figures flashed. And each time, the two were locked in combat. Each held only a small iron dagger, their fighting leathers more than enough protection for them both lest either were struck by the other.

Unable to look away, you found yourself moving closer until you hid safely behind a thick, bountiful bush and could discern voices. Their voices. Only bits and pieces could be made out through the rainstorm, but it was enough.

“…too slow, son….can’t keep putting your arm up like that…too open and easy for me to…”

The next split of white light through the black sky illuminated them both, and the slightly shorter male with hair the color of ebony had a knife at his throat. It was held there by his father, who shook his head in disapproval as he gripped the younger male’s forearm in a vice-like hold.

“…cannot protect her if you cannot protect yourself. You are not ready.” The older male had decided. “Until you are, you will not see her. Even from afar.”

Another lightning bolt ruptures the clouds covering the moon, and a younger Jungkook had let his dogma guide his blade as he had voiced:

“Eventually I will be. And when I am, she’ll be mine. Not even her father will stand in my way.”

The next time the streak of lightning found its way through the atmosphere, the older male had been twisted around, his arm held behind his back while the younger alpha had pressed his blade to his father’s throat.

A self-satisfied grin with pointed canines protruding from under his upper lip had made your beating muscle in your chest stutter as he had released his father from the binding hold he’d had on him.

You could have sworn he looked right at you from behind the mess of leaves and brambles.

When the white fulmination cleaved through the clouds once more, your heart stopped when his father had quickly captured his son’s wrist to the hand that held the dagger by his neck only to bend forward and rotate forward, effectively flipping Jungkook onto his back. Jungkook, who had been unprepared for such a technique, had been brought to the craggy ground with a grunt, his other hand shooting out to grab for something, anything, to find purchase in as his knife fell from his fingers. Jungkook was fast, but his father had simply been faster.

The older male had easily used the momentum of move to step around and over Jungkook’s now prone form. Jungkook, who had been propped up on one elbow with a sharp looking rock held in his now bleeding hand from the blade of the dagger that had cut into his palm in the fall. It laid too far for him to reach, the essence of his defeat staining it.

White electricity strikes yet again, the deep rumble of thunder loud under the pounding of blood in your ears.

“Distracted. She occupies your mind even now. That…is dangerous, son.” The older male with gray streaking the black hairs stuck over his eyes had said. “Too dangerous for you to be allowed near her until….oncoming rut is over...”

That was the last thing you heard before there had been a flare of heat on your right, the rift of lightning arcing along the old oak’s stump beside you as the clouds clashed and loud sound pierced the earth.

You hadn’t even flinched. That didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the alpha on the ground who’s scent clung to the parchments that made you blush, smile, and kick your feet while you coveted them close to your chest as you wished to the gods that whatever force was keeping him from your side would release him.

The fascination that had turned every letter of his had tilled the very hard edge with which he spoke as he growled, “No. I cannot go through that again. You cannot make me.”

“Won’t I?” His father flipped the dagger in hand. “You’re on the ground right now because you cannot keep your mind off her. What is to stop you from venturing into her chambers tonight when you inevitably begin thinking of how good she smells? Of how pretty she looks when-“

Jungkook had pushed up on his hand, the other holding the rock slicing the air close to his father’s thigh. Each side of the older male’s mouth pulled downward, the metal of his dagger gleaming as sparks had flown upon impact of the pointed edge of the rock hitting the blade with such force.

“Don’t.” Jungkook’s jaw tensed. “Do not dare to say the things I mutter in my sleep when you have me chained to the fucking trees.”

His father had shrugged. “Then become stronger for her. Until you can, you’ll stay here, deep in the woods. Far away from her.”

The cords in the younger alpha’s neck went rigid as he scowled. “I will find my way to her. One way or another.”

With that, he’d pulled his knees toward his chest before punting his father in the chest with his feet. Such energy he’d used to push himself back from the older male as he’d used the force of the action to drive his feet over his head in a backward roll, his bleeding hand reaching around the hilt of the curved dagger on the ground. When he’d gotten to his feet once more, he had bared his teeth with determination set into those expressive features of his.

His father had nodded in approval, “That’s the spirit, son. Never accept defeat. That’s how you win.”

The clash of metal had soon become drowned out by the outpour of rain, but not even the water could snuff out the iotas of light that came at each powerful strike of their blades against each other.

Hours must have passed, but you swore it felt like it had only been minutes as your eyes followed the younger male everywhere he went, his wild dark locks sticking to his forehead and sides of his face as he moved with purpose and confidence.

There was an art to his movements as he continuously, mercilessly brought down his blade on his father’s. Time and time again.

Whether he held a quill or a blade in his hand, he was filled with purpose. Purpose that was entirely carved by you.

It had taken his father being backed into the stream for you to realize that you were too close. And that the air had become too thick to push air through your lungs as the organs in your chest contracted too deeply?

Why had it suddenly become so difficult to breathe?

Jungkook wades into the stream up to his calves, not willing to let up on his father despite the water urging him with its flow against him.

The closer he got, the more labored your breaths became.

You needed to shift. You needed to shed your heavy furs that had been drenched by the rain.

But to do that, you had to leave him.

So, you did. Quietly, you slipped into the night, careful not to make any sound lest you drew any attention to yourself. You hadn’t known you’d been holding your breath until you found your way back to your chambers, your footfalls light as your furs had begun to fall away from you. After you’d collected the rainwater you’d left in a barrel outside your window in several smaller bowls and emptied them into the cauldron hung over the metal hook above your fireplace to heat what would be your bathwater, your hands had sought the comfort of the thickest bound book that you kept on your bookshelf.

You had been too hasty to get to the dog-eared page you’d marked in the book, accidentally tearing the page before finding what you’d come to your book for. Inside it was tucked your favorite letter left to you on your windowsill. One that you found yourself rereading night after night.

It read:

The moon pales in comparison to the light that twinkles in your eyes,

The stars tremble in awe of your brilliance,

The night must blanket them and still, you offer more warmth,

Warmth that not even the sun can make as pleasant,

Warmth that the clouds could not even shade,

Warmth that no rain could fall with,

The flowers around us bloom, but none blossom with the beauty and grace of you,

The seedlings take root, but gods, none do so like the one you’ve planted in me,

The water they draw into themselves is life-giving, but yours is so much nourishing,

 Still I sit here, hoping that you will allow me to bask in your radiance,

Still I sit here, promising that I will grow stronger in body, soul, and mind to be at your side,

Still I sit here, thinking of you when I cannot see, hear, or touch you as I do in my dreams.

Wait for me, my beautiful flower who only becomes more alluring under each moon.

Wait for me, and I will be your loving attendant,  

Wait for me, and I will be yours.

You are forbidden to me now, but soon, you will not be. Soon, I will make you mine.

You will never have to look longingly at the wolves who hold and dote on each other while your only partner is the books you keep in your library. I will be everything you want me to be if that is what pleases you.

You will always have a shoulder to lean on, an ear that will listen, a hand that will caress you.

You will always have me.

You will never have to spend your nights crying into your pillow alone because of your father. I will be there to hold you close. I will be the fists that pummel him to the ground for daring to hurt you. Or anyone else that meddles your happiness.

All I can do for you now is watch over you from afar. Guard and protect you from the males I know you do not desire. From the females that have become venomous in jealousy of your unmatched intelligence, spirit, and beauty. From the threats that loom deep in the forest.

I hope you can forgive me for keeping my name and a face a secret from you. I suspect by now you have figured out who I am. And if you have, you will then understand why I commune with you this way.

The elders, nor your father, would allow it since you have not yet presented. Besides…it looks like I have some developments myself that I need to make. You have so consumed my mind and body that I can no longer make sense of certain things.

You are everywhere and yet, you elude me. It is the most tragic of ironies.

Until we meet again, my fair flower. I will see you long before you see me, but you can always find me in our dreams.

Always.

-Your Alpha

The air here had been clammy, too, so when you had let your thumb brush at the corner, the oils from it smudged the ink. Panic stole your breath and you not wanting to blemish the beautiful lettering,  you’d slipped the parchment under your pillow and gone to the window to open it in hopes of letting some crisp, fresh air in.

Even here, you could still hear the clang of metal from the forest under lightly falling raindrops. You had let your body move on its own when you’d leaned out from the ledge of your windowsill that was only a few feet from the ground, the baser part of you subconsciously trying to be near to him despite the space between you.

That muggy draft that had clung to your ribs still did not dispel as the cold drops trickled down your body, the tears of the sky slow in their consolation as they dribbled along your arm as you lifted it up and stuck it out of the window.

It still wasn’t enough.

You needed to be able to breathe. And thankfully, you knew just what to do from all the books you read.

Hot water could provide relief to respiratory issues.

Your eyes landed on the largest of the wooden bowls you���d used to collect water from the barrel of rainwater outside, each of your hands holding it as you’d dipped it into the cauldron over boiling water, careful not to let it burn your fingers as you brought it to the tub, the sloshing of it causing you to stare down at it to see your reflection.

Your mouth was ajar with partially sharpened teeth that had not fully shifted back yet, your face flushed with redness and your eyes… your dilated pupils, now the color of the sun where they were usually silver like the moon, glowed back at you.

You blinked rapidly, surprise lighting up your face as you gaped.

Your wolf had been scratching at your psyche to do something about the irremovable weight that felt like it was pushing against your organs.

Another bout of thunder rolled through the sky from outside the semi-circular opening in the wall along the far end of the small, square room. The accompanying flash of lightning brought with it the deadly gleam of daggers behind your eyes, the image of Jungkook’s blood staining it in your mind’s eye as the suffocating pressure in your chest worsened.    

You’d had to sit on the edge of the tub, unable to get air between your lips and before you could think, you raised the steaming bowl over your head and let it pour over you.

Its cascade down your flesh had immediately silenced your wolf, who preened at the hot sensation of the liquid all over your flesh. Everywhere the water touched, it washed away the uncomfortable weight that had smothered you so.

When you looked into the mirror across the room, the gold in your irises had been swept away with the last drop of water to leave only silver.

Your surprise had been doused until its remnants became distress as you looked up at the moon, your hands coming together before your bosom as you bowed your head in deference to ask, “Please, gods, do not let him suffer for me. Wherever he is, please, protect him from harm. Keep him safe.”

You’d gone to bed that night without bothering to dry off, the lightest of layers heavy on your skin as hushed prayers and pleas for his safety left your lips while you held the letter he’d left you against your thudding heart.

Words have a way of failing you when he’s around, but that? It was so much easier. So much better when you couldn’t find language sufficient to let him know what you wanted to say.

He seems to understand, because then he’s releasing your skirts and grabbing the wooden tray of salves, gauze, and other medicinal solutions with his uninjured hand and, lost in his eyes, you don’t even realize he’s put it beside him until his voice finds you through it all.

You need not worry for me, my love. I have everything I need right here. I may have had to grow up faster than everyone else around us, but I would do it all over again if it meant that you would be mine.

You only notice your hands are empty when you go to brush your forehead against his, your unoccupied hands lifting to cradle each side of his face as your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to fall.

“You are too good to me, alpha. I promise you that you will never have to be alone again. Not now, and not ever.” You pledge as you kneel between his legs, reaching for the thick roll of white translucent fabric with a loose, open weave. You take it between both hands, your mouth setting in a thin line as you rip it so that you have two moderately sized pieces while your alpha takes in the image of you on your knees before him.

“Nor do you, my love. I am officially yours now, just as you are entirely mine. No one can deny us from each other anymore.” He professes, lifting his unharmed arm so he can sweep your hair out of your face while you work.

It was no small thing to allow an omega to do this. The action was something of a rite that went back to the earliest of their ancestors. When an alpha was harmed in battle or in the hunt for prey, the omega that he let dress his wounds, by doing so, accepted the bond between them. To allow an omega to see an alpha at their most vulnerable…it was a very special, intimate moment.

And you knew of that. He knows because the thought surfaces in your mind the moment you daub the dry fabric against the top of each pectoral where four dark and furiously red lines curve diagonally downward and end on each side of his pelvis. Blood beads the incisions that Yoongi’s serrated claws had left, and the tears that had threatened to fall before fight against the entrapment of your eyelids as you try to blink them away.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, alpha?” You ask with the guilt weighing at your words as you uncork one of the small ovular vials containing a yellow liquid, the woody-sweet scent pungent in your nostrils as you use the oil left by crushed eucalyptus to clean your hands before you pour it onto the strips of fabric you’d just torn and after, you push the cork into the vial and set it down before you.

You let guilt drag each of your hands containing the gauze downward very lightly as you follow the large virgules of red. Where you normally would admire the strong, defined contours of his chest, now, the sight of it has woe whispering in your ear.

His skin is hot to the touch. As if fire burns under his flesh. So fuming and inflamed in the redness that surrounds the gaping, curling lacerations. Both sides of his sternum have been raked– no, ripped–through by sharp claws. Yoongi had cut into your mate’s skin eight blood red half-moons; four on either side of his chest that were turned away from each other, their ends incurving from the base of his neck all the way down his torso and even along his hip bones. Layers of crimson ooze and leak down his body like water, and the sight has something in your bosom tightening in on itself as your vision becomes cloudy.

Somewhere down between the middle of his pectorals, the cloths become too saturated and heavy with blood to soak up any more.

Perhaps the tangibility of his suffering is what finally has the tears falling down your cheeks, the burning in your eyes unavoidable no matter how many times you try to blink it away.

Despite that it feels as if fire sears him everywhere Yoongi’s claws had been, there is worse pain to be felt. Like the gut-wrenching punch that is delivered to his belly when he sees the first of your tears slide down your face.

With the hand he has on your chin, he tilts your chin up as he answers honestly, “Nothing harms me more than watching the light of my life weep for me.”

“I…I can’t help it, alpha.” You respond dolefully, your own stomach dropping to the bowels of your body at the high volume of blood he’s losing so quickly. He’d already turned the entire tub of water he’d been in red, and still he bled. If this kept on…

You don’t let that thought continue. You can’t. 

You drop the sopping cloths into an empty glass container you’d put next to the roll of gauze only to take the roll between your hands once again. This time, you do not stop unraveling it until you have much thicker stretches of cloth folded into squares. You do not forget to grab the vial of yellow fluid once more, the viscous oil slow to make its journey to the cloths. You lightly press them against the spots you had had the other ones placed against. The second you put them to his mutilated flesh, they slowly turn crimson. The more they are stained with his lifeblood, the more you are soused with leaden compunction.

It burns, yes, but your sadness smolders him more.

“You are blaming yourself for this.”

It is not a question. It’s a statement.

You draggle each of the gauzes down along the underside of his pectorals, letting them rest there as you watch them turn completely red with his blood.

Momentarily, you wonder if the silvers he’d put on you before would be able to numb the contrition that pulls your spirits away from you.

Your mate will not have any of that.

He runs the pad of his thumb along your chin as he coaxes, “Peer into my eyes, Y/N.”

Unquestioningly, you do. He’s more than earned your obedience. What you see in the depths of those orbs is unending and bottomless in the plunge to the part of him that he would never show anyone else. The part of him that he had kept buried and sunken in wait for the right creature to unearth it. So many masks he had had to wear when so many had ulterior motives and designs around him, but this creature before him? He would break them all to pieces so she could see him for what he really was.

Once, he had asked his father how he would really know if anyone wanted him for him and not his power or his rank. His father had simply laughed and told him: You won’t. All you can do is watch and wait to see someone’s true colors when they think no one else is watching.

This creature before him who cried in the face of his pain and suffering did so out of pure, genuine sorrow. He could feel it sinking your spirits, your very thoughts through the bond. He could see it deep in the valley of your eyes that are, even in the guilt that tries to make them cloudy, drizzling with love for him.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were true and that you were absolutely, unequivocally his. That is why he allows the walls of his reservedness to crumble as he confides:

“Hear my words, my love. This is a result of my own weakness. I teased you before about you wanting to do this. But know that you are only in this situation because I wasn’t strong enough to do what I needed to do.” He doesn’t let go of your chin. With his other hand, he places it between your breasts. The action has him sucking his lip between his teeth as excruciating pain shoots through his upper bicep where the flesh has been torn from limb. A river of red gushes from the open wound, but it matters little to him when pangs of your heart are slower even than his as if it, too, was sulking itself in blame. Despite the way his split blood vessels cry more tears of blood in the movement, he goes on with a grimace, “I know what you’re thinking, my sweet, beautiful girl. You are not to blame for this. Do not pity me. Do not feel guilty for me. If anything, I should be the one pitying you for having to tend to me for such serious injuries.” He leans forward, his lips meeting the flesh between your brows, “I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you with only a scratch. But I meant every word of what I said when I made that oath to you that I would protect you with my body. My body can be mended. My soul, if it lost you, could not.”

The male before you shouldn’t even be able to move in his condition.

And yet, he does.

For you.

Your own emotions crack and fracture under the seriousness of his words and unhesitant ministrations. Each is packed with the mass of his candor and you can’t stop yourself from pouring your heart out to him.

“You ask me to simply accept this…this agony that you must be feeling, alpha, and I,” you cry out,” I cannot! I care too much for you to simply turn off my emotions. I cannot do it!”

You lift the strips of soddened fabric away from his chest through eyes full of tears, your sight descending to where you hold them in your now shaking hands as you place those, too, in the same glass bowl as the others. “You ask me not to blame myself, but your wounds…they are there because of me. And they are serious. Serious enough that if this keeps on, you-“ Your sniffle, shaking your head in unwillingness to finish the unbearable thought. You take the gauzy roll in your hands once more and unwind it, you have to rely on muscle memory because at this point, the constant slew of tears is too much for you to see through.

Your alpha’s eyes soften as you try to rub at your own, your tear-streaked cheeks sullied by the tracks the salty water had left,  the fresh blood that now covers your hands a stark contrast to the darker, dried blood he’d painted on you earlier during the Smearing.

Why did that make you look even more beautiful to him?

“I’m not asking you to simply turn a blind eye to your feelings, sweetheart. Such a task would be difficult for anyone with a heart to attain.” He brings his lips under one of your eyes, the tang of salt and iron left on his lips as he does. “What I ask is that you try not to blame yourself for my errors. It is my misjudgment that earned me more scars. These are not the first, and they likely will not be the last.” He turns his head so he can leave a soft, featherlight kiss under your other eye. “These scars shall be proof of the trial I had to face to earn you. And I would take hundreds of thousands more of these for you. If I had lost an arm or leg tonight, I would have been alright with it. Your smile and your happiness are worth that much to me.”

The sound of the white fabric shredding between your fingers is muffled under his voice. It’s as if your senses have been dulled to all but him. Even the firelight fails to crackle in your ears amidst the steady beat of his own heart while you tremblingly let the lip of the vial teem with the oil that smells of honey, mint, and citrus.

“My happiness should never come at the expense of pain or suffering, alpha,” you murmur mournfully as you eye the bawling gashes of scarlet.

You crimp the gauze into two thick squares once they have been wetted with the oil before holding them down over the underside of each of his pectorals. You wait until the part in contact with his frayed skin is steeped in scarlet before you flip each of them over and depress them along the arched curvatures going in opposite directions toward each side of his pelvis.

His lips tighten, wrinkles forming where none existed before when you tenderly wipe away at the jagged ends of each of the four lines on either hemisphere of his torso where Yoongi’s claw had pierced the deepest, not bothering to hide his expression from you now at his most vulnerable. There was nothing to hide now. No reason to keep his pain from you when he knew that doing so would just upset you more.

It pains you to see him like this. You wish there was a way for you to make it all disappear, but unfortunately, there were no medicinal or herbal remedies that had the power to do that.

“Such is our way, omega. It is my duty to protect you. I will never neglect that obligation if it ensures your safety." He hisses when you gingerly drag the gauze along the same path upward to collect the stray rivulets of crimson that had dripped from the top of his wounds.

The incinerating flare of flames feels like it is scorching him from the inside out under each slash and tear in his flesh left by Yoongi’s claws, and each time you attempt wiping away the bloody tears his body weeps, more of his life essence is there to replace it.

The oil offers a mild cooling sensation, but it is similar to throwing a block of frozen ice into a roaring bonfire.

You note the lack of stoppage of blood flow from those wounds, concern turning your lips down even more. What you had been reluctant to think about before was becoming all the more possible now. Even if you did keep trying to refuse it.

Worry soon lugs you asunder with the guilt that swims densely about you, and your brows furrow as you instruct, “Alpha, I need you to lie down now. You aren’t having any changes in the blood loss and I fear that something bad may happen if you lose too much more.”

He nods, but the action has a dot spotting his vision and no matter how many times he blinks, it remains. Soon, there are more. And as he holds your watery gaze, more tears trek down the contours of your cheeks.

Something in his chest twinges that has nothing to do with the wounds Yoongi had left.

“As you say, my love.” He brings one knee carefully up toward his chest, his foot resting on the edge of the wood as he asks “What will you have me to do with this arm of mine? It’s in bad shape.”

You grab the now near-empty vial of eucalyptus oil that you’d set on the ground between your knees and return it to its place on the tray, your mind easily supplying you with the answer to his question after having spent so many nights hunched over tomes about medicinal treatments and herbal remedies as you rise, one of your hands wrapping around his nape and the other laying itself over the palm he has pressed between your breasts. The arm that palm is connected to is the one that Yoongi had mangled such that you can see bone between the split mess of muscles bordering it.

You can only imagine how much agony he must be in. If you could take it into yourself, you would.

Not that he would let you, though.

His promise to you had been made not only out of love for you, but out of pride as an alpha. An alpha that could not protect their mate was not deserving or worthy of her. It was an alpha’s responsibility by right to be the source of security and protection for his omega.  An alpha who could not guarantee that for his omega had failed her.

Or so the tradition had held.

“You need to relax this arm and let me maneuver it so that it rests by your side. What I’m about to do will require a certain position,” you urge him down by the back of his neck, and while you know your measly strength could never compete against his, the fact that he allows you to move him so readily is an obvious display of trust. His back is laid atop the bench first, and you are delicate in the way you guide his head down until it, too, comes to a rest on the wood. “And it…it will hurt. I’m going to have to move your arm so we do not risk further injuring it. After that, I will need to clean it before applying pressure where the worst of the damage is.”

With conviction clearer than any concoction you could give him, he asserts, “Do what you have to do.  You know what needs to be done. You have trained and studied well. It goes without saying that you have my trust. All of it.” He adds.

Gods, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect mate.

“Let me be the voice of reassurance this time, alpha,” you express while you curl your fingers around the hand of his that is placed along your sternum. Your other cups the underside of his forearm and, scrupulously, you usher it to his side before slowly and surely straightening it. He grimaces, and to distract him, you assure, “I’ll do everything I can to fix you. I promise, alpha.”

You monitor the bone in his arm that shifts in the movement, the middle of his humerus exposed and clearly fractured. From the dark line running perpendicular to the bone along the end closest to his elbow, you know instantly that he’s suffered from a transverse fracture to the bone. Honestly, you had expected worse with the way Yoongi had thrashed his head with Jungkook’s poor arm trapped between his teeth. Those teeth had managed to pierce halfway through the vessels and muscles lining his upper arm, the punctures still gushing blood.

It should have been impossible for him to have moved it. And yet…

“How did you move this arm when your bone has been broken, alpha?” You ask, swallowing the emotion that wants to be let out as you assess him.

His brows scrunch together and he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The pain was inconsequential next to the sadness that pooled in those pretty eyes.”

You fight the burning at the edges of your vision as you silently take your skirt between your fingers, the soft material pliable under your fingers. You don’t say anything. All you can do is let your hands work as you find the slit cut into it and tear along the line.

“What are you doing, my love?”

It is a question not asked out of doubt, but genuine curiosity.

The sound of ripping fabric ceases as you pull a sizable amount of the organza away from you and turn it inside out before placing it onto the tray beside his head and grabbing for the rectangular glass canister next to the eucalyptus oil.   

I have to clean it. It’s infected already, and if I don’t get the bacteria out, your condition will worsen. Once I clean it, I will have to mobilize and brace it. A piece of my skirt should be the outer layer so as not to discomfort you.

You don’t trust your voice not to rupture, so you gently push the words to him through the bond as you grab the roll of cotton wool beside the gauze and unwind it before pressing it to your lips, closing your eyes, and silently begging for the mercy of the gods to take pity on him. To save him.

You knew what to do, but there was only so much that herbs and medicinal solutions could do.

You discard the thought like one of the blood-stained gauzes before you. You couldn’t afford to think like that. Especially not when you’d promised to put him at ease as he had always done for you.

When you bring the wool away from your mouth, you lift the lid from the container and the musky, earthy smell of the ginger poultice you’d prepared weeks ago joins the scent of muted iron in the air as you dip the wool into it several times to ensure its transfer onto the material.

The ginger will not hurt you, alpha. The pressure I will have to put on you will, however.  

“I meant what I said, omega. Do what you need to do. I can take it.” He confides, opening his mouth so he can bite onto it.

I know, alpha. I know. More than anyone.

You pick up the considerably long, thick strip of wool from where you’d left it in a heap atop of the open poultice, bending over him before straightening it out so that it ran the length of his upper arm. Thankfully, it was just wide and long enough to completely cover his arm.

With one hand holding one end and your other hand on the other, you bring it down over the split skin from just under his shoulder to just above his elbow.

Just as you’d told him, there is no burning sensation as the gelatinous, thick solution is applied and spread across his sheared muscles, blood vessels, and bone. The blood spurting from the ruptures in his flesh is quick to permeate into the cotton, but you’d expected as much.

The ginger and eucalyptus have antioxidants, antibacterial, antiseptic, and disinfecting properties good for fighting infections. That’s why I chose to have Namjoon collect them from my personal store that I made.

Have I ever told you how attractive I find your intelligence?

Yes, alpha. You have.

You smile through the tears as you untwist more cotton wool from its spool, careful to lay it flat over the existing layer you’d just put over him. It, too, becomes saturated with his life’s essence within seconds.

He needed something else. Something to help boost the efficacy of the poultice. And you knew just the thing.

You scan the tray, evaluating the vials and containers left on it as you note the last addition you had yet to make. There, in the middle, was the small wooden box no longer than your hand and no taller than your pinky. You flip open the latch, the powder inside a brilliant yellow with the hint of orange tang under your nose.

His irises follow your every movement as you peel the layers of cotton wool up and off of him, disposing of them both in the same bowl as the other discolored fabrics.

When you unravel the dressings this time and steep them in the poultice, your other grabs a considerably sized clump of the crushed turmeric powder and sprinkles it all over his slashed open arm.

Three handfuls of that later, you are satisfied with the way the powder has been packed over the gash and surround it with several strips of the material lathered in the ginger solution.   

The turmeric has curcumin in it, which can enhance granulation tissue formation and wound contraction. It also decreases inflammation and oxidation and can increase antioxidant capacity of the body, which means it helps fight compounds that could damage you.

The words are recited just as you had written them in one of your journals, and you busy yourself remembering that in lieu of your mind wandering to darker, scarier thoughts as his life’s essence clings to your hands while you rip apart more strips of cotton and run them all through the container of poultice.

Keep going, my love. Tell me more.

He feels the quiver of your hands as you lay each rectangular cloth down over his raw, chafed abrasions lining his chest, his uninjured arm wrapping around your thigh to steady you as his temples begin to ache.

The ginger root that this poultice was made from speeds along the healing process for cuts and abrasions among the other qualities it possesses. You won’t have to worry about these dressings falling off.

Underneath each dressing you affix to his front, his very cells feel as if they are being engulfed in an inferno. One that only blazes hotter every second that passes.

The gingerols and shogaols are compounds in it that will work as a natural adhesive to the cotton and to your skin without sticking or gluing it to you.  

His second lack of response has you tilting your head in confusion.

You had said before that the poultice was not meant to feel like that, so whatever was happening, he was certain that you were not the cause. Perhaps it was just some strange side effect of blood loss? How odd that this sensation did not spread to his arm. He really should have studied more.

I’m fine, love. I think. My chest… it feels like I’m burning up from the inside. Have you any idea what that could be?

You’d read many books on herbology and medicine practices. None had ever described that as a symptom of blood loss.

With worry making your mouth go drier than cotton, you examine the way he blinks rapidly as if trying to get something out of his eyes.

W-what else ails you, alpha?

More dots have begun to occupy his sight, and no matter how many times he tries to close and open his eyes, they will not dissipate.

I cannot see properly. It is like there are dark circles blotting parts of my vision.

˙

That was definitely a symptom of blood loss. But the burning sensations? That wasn’t characteristic of the lesions that had been cut into his skin. Nor was the ceaseless gush of scarlet from his chest injuries.

You recall the events that had brought you both here, identifying that it had only been Yoongi that had managed to harm your alpha. He’d been bitten on his arm and struck by claws on his chest. Two different points of contact with two different mediums.

You compare the two areas where he’d been mutilated, spotting the angered, puffed up flesh just that became more raised the closer it got to his now covered traumatisms on his torso. Like something was agitating it from the inside. His arm, however, mangled as it is, is not as badly puckered up around the gash despite the blood he’s losing. Which brings you to your next observation: His blood drips slowly and languidly from his chest wounds where it wells and spurts from his arm. With as deeply as Yoongi had pierced through him, he should have been losing more.

What is going on in that pretty head of yours, my love? Have you…have you discovered something?

There’s a slight pause between each of his unhurried words through your bond. As if it took effort to pull them forth.  

You push through the distress that wants to drag you down, forcing yourself to focus and do everything that you could to aid him as you turn your attention to his arm now that you had taken care of his chest wounds.

You needed to stop the river of red that streamed down his arm. Without removing the cloth you’d set over it, you use your teeth to shear the white open-weaved fabric from the now nearly depleted roll it had once been spun around.

I will have to apply pressure as I said before to make sure the medicines set on the punctures in your arm. It…it’s going to hurt, alpha. If you want, you can bite onto my skirts. I don’t mind.

The offer earns you a nod, and so you rise to stand by his side and a wad of your skirt in your hands, hoping that he doesn’t mention the way that they shake as you do.

Forgive me, alpha.

It’s all the warning he gets before you place the dressings over the first layer covering his arm and push into the afflicted area, mindful of where his bone has been broken and avoiding that as you squeeze. Unlike the ruptures along his chest, this area does not nearly scald you.

He curses, his teeth grating into the fabric of your skirt as you apologize over and over again, guilt leaving tangible evidence of itself on your face while you cry for him.

Anyone else would have flinched, but not your alpha. No, he simply screws his eyes shut as he hisses through the material between his lips.

I’m sorry, alpha. I’m so, so sorry. But you have to stay like this for five minutes. I have to try to make the bleeding stop.

The dots that had been impairing his vision increase and the ache in his temples he’d felt before turns into a fierce throbbing as the world begins to dim around him while the claw marks along his chest ripple forth with black blood.

You perceive the way his eyes begin to flutter closed, the arm he’s wrapped around your thigh beginning to loosen. A tremble overcomes his body in the way that it suddenly is as if it’s gone down many degrees, and at that, a lump of dread drops into your stomach.

Not wanting him to slip into unconsciousness, you squeal. “N-no! Stay with me, a-alpha!”

Your voice cleaves through the barren desert that has set upon your throat.

I’m sorry, my love…I’m trying, but…it’s cold, yet my body feels like it’s on fire.

There are longer standstills between his words now. Like each one has to be dug up from the recesses of his mind.

Why has it suddenly become a….a blizzard in here? Why does…does my head feel…feel like someone is…is pounding… into it?

The dread in your belly is joined by another chunked mass of fear as his responsiveness slows with the unseen ice that encases and numbs him. When his good arm falls limply to his side from where it had been encircled around your thigh, you snivel, shaking your head vigorously back and forth as you whisper through a cracked voice, “No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be.”

As his eyelids tiredly droop, that’s when the panic grips your organs and wrings them out.

You had to stay strong. And you could not panic.  Doing so would only stress him further.

But that thought is difficult to keep under the fleeting consciousness of your mate before you, who squeezes his eyes shut before opening them wide in effort to keep awake as you had instructed as he shivers.

You swallow around a brittle, sandy throat, wiping your hands on your bodice before your attention sifts around the room in search of something, anything, to help you. You start with the tray. The bowl of blood-soaked, soiled gauze and wrappings sits on its edge, the rolls of gauze and cotton wool in front of it. Next to them, the rectangular wooden box of turmeric powder remains beside the canister of ginger extract. Around them, the vial of eucalyptus lays on its side where the other glass containers of assorted colors and contents are placed. Three had been unused.

The first was a smaller brown bottle of oil secreted from crushed neem kernels you’d plucked from the seeds yourself. The second was a moderately sized canister of milk-colored paste you’d boiled and ground from coconuts. The last was a large flask of honey.

All would work to stop the bleeding. Five minutes had felt an eternity with his continually shallow breaths in your ear, his heart rate weakening under the lack of blood to push through his body. You hadn’t understood why your vocal cords felt so sore, but when you release him and the mewling coming from your mouth dies out, that answers the question.

You waste no time emptying the bottle of neem oil over each of his wounds as you sniffle, “Keep looking at me, alpha. Don’t go to sleep. I-I need you awake for me.”

Despite the gnawing pain in his temples and the ever increasing temperature that boils the parts of him under the skin of his thorax, he battles the darkness that wants to swallow him as he tries to stay in the light of your eyes that shine glassily down on him while you pour the honey, with unsteady hands, along each striation channeling his chest and arm before adding another lining of gauze over his crimson turned bandages.

“One more, alpha. One more, and then I can make a splint for your arm.” You don’t care anymore about the snot that runs down your nose with the tears trailing it as his skin begins to lose its color.

He nictates through bleary, dimmed orbs, and the sight twists your heartstrings.

You keep your hands busy, because you know the moment you stop is the moment he could slip through your fingers.

You cover both hands in the creamy mixture and with the first pass of your fingers against his sternum, you wrench your hand back in the overwhelming heat that scorches you like a blazing sun.

“You’re burning up, alpha.” The words are choked out. “It’s gotten worse.”

He says nothing. Doing so would cause it to sear him even more.

His pained expression is answer enough. And the discomfort of the sensation it had brought was nothing compared to what you knew he faced. For him, you would cross any sea of fire. For him, you would do this. No matter the cost.

So, you gently trail your fingers around the reddened, plowed planes of his chest to surround all sides of the new contours there in the substance.

You shake the canister over his arm so that thick dollops land over the flesh there so you can spread them around, too.

Once you’re certain no part of him is bereft of your attention, you straighten and scour the room for anything you could use as a splint. There alone atop the cabinet by the door, was a clipboard with paper. No doubt a visitor’s log.

It was the perfect length for his arm.

Before you leave his side, you check his vitals for any unseen changes. Still he attempts to combat the throes of sleep that wish to pull him asunder, but the most serious of his wounds have now been disinfected and dressed.

“Alpha,” you prod, “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to get something to stabilize your arm.”

You wait for him to give a slow incline of his head, the action causing him to wince as explosive pain fires through his temples.

You turn, but the watchful glance you keep on him remains as you make your way across the room. You do not miss the way his fingers along his good arm twitch as if searching for you.

Your fingers close around the edge of the board of wood, your own chest splintering at the sight.

You return to him within seconds, but gods, it had felt like hours.

This time, you walk over to the side of him where his bad arm now rests, one of your hands wrapping around the underside of his arm to coax it only an inch upward. He lets you so you can slip the board underneath it as you observe him for any fluctuations in symptoms. His pupils are stagnant and idle, but they do not stray from you even as his breathing begins to slow and his heart beats become fainter and fainter.

Worry sets in your veins as you take the piece of your skirts that you’d torn earlier and tie it around the board of wood and the bandages you’d put there.

When you press your index and middle finger to the pulsating vein along his neck, it beats feebly.

He needed to replenish the blood he’d lost before it was too late. And you knew, right then, exactly what you needed to do to fix that.

However, no matter how much you flipped through the pages of the books you’d read in your mind, the answer to his inquiries and asymptomatic conditions he’d alerted you to did not match what you knew of blood loss. Whatever he had described was clearly something else. Something that Yoongi must have done since he’d been the only one to successfully injure your mate.

Yoongi, who had bitten him on the arm and his claws on Jungkook’s torso where, surprisingly, Jungkook had explained the worst of his pain to be. Where you yourself had felt it to be in the irate ire of the wounds there so hot to the touch.

It is with that identification that you scrap the books you’d read about common ailments in lieu of one you’d been hunched over for many weeks trying to memorize in its abundance of knowledge. One that had detailed poisons and toxins. There was one that matched what you had seen and heard from him. One that, if introduced into the body, was capable of corrosive necrosis in cells and had sensations and symptoms that matched what he’d described. One that was odorless, colorless, and impossible to cure.

It must have been dappled on Yoongi’s claws. He must have known about the deadly poison carried by a large fungus that even necromancers hesitated to harvest. It was capable of causing the entire bodily organs and tissues to break down and feel as if they were burning in their degradation when the toxins turned the cells against each other.

Jungkook’s eyes close, and horror clods your ribs and bowels of your body.

You had to keep him awake. For fear of losing his life, you had to keep him from sinking into the darkness.

Stay with me, my mate. My alpha. My love. Please, don’t leave me.

The words course like a ravine through the bond, the waters of your affections evident in the tracks they leave down your cheeks as you lift your leg up and over so you can sit astride him, desperation making you move before your mind can. The raindrops of your sadness fall over him like a fall downpour, and soon, his entire chest is wet with the salve of your handmade solutions and sadness.

The longer his eyes stay shut, the closer he dangles to that dangerous idea you’d kept rejecting and denying. That idea became more real by the moment.

You promised me, alpha. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me! I can’t do this without you!

Distress takes control as the rush of thoughts spill from you and you bring your hand to your teeth that you had subconsciously sharpened in the iron that now falls across your tongue.

I can’t do this without you, alpha. Life without you was life without meaning. Life without you was like having silver thrust on me every day from the moment I woke to the moment I fell asleep: gray, senseless and deadening.

Something warm trickles from the sides of your lips when all of your now edged, serrated upper teeth easily prick and slice through your palm and you suck a mouthful between your lips.  

The taughtened muscles around his eyes and mouth slacken, the movement of his irises behind his lids moving this way and that. As if he was still trying to search for you in the darkness. The gentle thud of his heart is all that you hear in your ears anymore. No other sounds matter.

You speak to him through it, hoping with everything in you that doing so will give him something to hold onto.

I love you, alpha. I love you more than anything in this world. So please, come back to me. Come back to me so I can express it to you, show it to you, and make more wonderful, beautiful, colorful memories with you.

You take his chin between the fingers of your other hand, lifting it before using your thumb to part his lips.

With the hand you’d just bitten, you hold it over his mouth only to turn your palm to the side before curling your digits in, your nails sinking into the fragile flesh to cut into it so that more streaks of crimson dribble down, the dark drops of your blood falling between his lips.

Adam's apple bobs as he tries to swallow it, but it’s not enough.

As you watch your blood spread across his tongue, you can’t help but notice how his skin has gone whiter than sleet, his usual golden glow drained with his life’s essence as he continues to shudder beneath you.

The faint presence of him dwindles in the bond like candlelight that the cold darkness schemes to snuff out, but still he is kindled in yours as you lean forward, your mouth seeking him.

Take my blood, alpha. Drink and replenish what you have lost. It is the only way.

The last sound of you is tucked in his mind just as your mouth slots itself over his, the mouthful of your blood that you had drawn forth from your hand soon emptied into his as he swallows it weakly. You mindfully set your bleeding hand between the middle of his sternum, the thick redness sobbing for him, too, as it spreads down his torso and seeps into the coverings draped across his chest.  

With the first swill of you down his throat, the throbbing in his temples begins to dull and the air around him starts to warm.

It’s as if your blood had passed life into him, for his tongue eventually sweeps at the excesses of your mouth for the remnants that percolate from the small scrapes your teeth had left in your cheeks. You let him lick it, and with each pass of his tongue over each one, the muscle beating under your hand on his chest beats steadier. Stronger. Louder.

He required more. Way more after all that he had lost. And you? You intended to give it to him.

When he’s lapped all of your quintessence up, you pull away only to bring the hand you’d bitten to his lips in offering.

With his eyes still closed, he can’t see it, but he can smell it.

The tang of iron is powerful enough to summon his mouth to it, his baser being taking over as he closes his mouth around your open palm.

His teeth pierce through you easily and when your blood bursts forth from the punctures and he sups it without hesitation.

The violent, searing pain stemming from the claw marks along his torso where your blood had permeated through his bandages starts to lessen amid the ache that is dispelled in his skull. The quavering of his body soon ceases in the absence of the chill he’d felt before.

He wraps his lips tighter around you, and when he extracts your essence this time, it is with more urgency.

You run your other hand through his dark, ebony hair, the color slowly returning to his cheeks as he drinks from you.

“Take as much as you need, my love. You will require quite a few mouthfuls to, ah-“

You pause when he detaches from your hand, licking at the stray droplets of your blood before gripping your forearm to bring your wrist to his nose so he can inhale and run his lips longingly along it. His head falls back as he does, the pink muscle slipping between his lips to taste the remnants of you there, too.

“Want to…bite you…right here. Can I?” He asks hoarsely yet huskily.

You’re already answering before he’s even finished.  “I’m all yours, alpha.”

The implications of this are not lost on you. By puncturing your scent glands where they produce the oils and scent of you the most­–seconded only by your neck–his bite will forever leave his trace where he’d enter you. No other wolf would be able to take in your succulent smell without his lingering odor behind it.

From where you are seated on his lap, you swear you see his eyes roll back behind his lids.

When his canines elongate such that they protrude from his upper lip and he penetrates your flesh along the middle of your wrist, your blood eagerly teems into his mouth. Just like the first time he’d bitten you, there is no pain in the sharpness of those teeth. What was urgency before becomes hunger now as he feeds on you, his cheeks hollowing as he quaffs the life-giving nectar you have produced just for him.

You shudder as he draws deep, gulping mouthful after mouthful and all the worry you’d had before is sapped away as he does. 

Your flavor is so fucking saccharine on his tongue, and each time your essence washes down his throat, his body surges with vitality and energy.

He can’t get enough of it. It’s too good. You’re too good.

More he takes and more he swallows like a crazed male, and you allow it as your own lids lower while you ogle him as the released endorphins stored in the glands along your wrist flood you in pleasure as you mindlessly–instinctively– rut your hips into his.   

“Do I taste good, alpha?” You moan softly, your body growing limp as the fingers you’d twisted and twined around his locks loosen.

You taste sweeter than sweet.

His good arm shoots out so his fingers can splay around your hip to steady you as he indulges in the pulses and pangs of strength that return to him with each consuming swig of your lifeblood, your hips helped back and forth by the hand he has on one of them as your moans turn to whimpers.

You taste something like pineapple, grapes, strawberries, and everything good in this world.

When his eyes open, he looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess. Like you’re some kind of deity, and he is some servant beneath you.

He revels in the revelation that graces him as he takes in the sight of you atop him. 

Your crimson-stained lips have slightly fallen ajar to reveal still jagged, pointed canines,  remnants of red still flecking the sides of your mouth. Your silver irises have been glazed by desire, the daubing of crimson along your lids creating a deprived picture. 

The dried, dark paint of his own blood that he’d smeared all over you was still there, but the new addition of his scarlet handprint between your breasts and streaks the same color all along your skirt and bodice are all the more depicting of a debased creature. 

You straddle him, your gown ripped unevenly along one of your legs to reveal one bare calf and thigh. 

How he had fucking ruined you. 

His once pure, innocent goddess that must have been a fallen, divine being sent to him to save him. 

“J-Jungkook,” you whine when your vision begins to darken at the edges as his teeth bury themselves deeper into your flesh so he can cravingly command more of you down,  “I…I-“ 

The strong hand on waist pulls you down over his hardening member, your breath hitching when you remember he’s entirely naked beneath you. 

“Even goddesses have their limit. I can see it,” he groans around your wrist as he savors the way you sag forward, your thighs loosening from where you’d been squeezing him between them. “I can feel it.” 

He takes one more mouthful of your rich, piquant ichor, your front slumping forward until your head rests in the crook of his neck. 

With your jugular vein so close to his ears, the rhythm set by the tune of your heart beats far too slow. The sound snaps him out of his craze instantly as the hand on your waist clutches you tighter as if you might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough. 

“Goddess? Do you mean…me?” You drawl out the words through the tingling sensation in your head.

Despite the loss of your blood, affection courses through you when he attentively dislodges his teeth from you and makes sure to catch the bright red drops that run forth from the two new dark blots along the underside of your smaller wrist. As he does, he affirms, “You saved me.”

The hand at your waist gives you another comforting squeeze before it journeys up along your side, your shoulder, and then down your arm until his digits close around your wrist so he can rub soothing circles into it. “I was so lost in the darkness, omega, but your voice…I followed it back to you.”

“Me?” It’s all you can say. The rush of endorphins fades with the extraction of his teeth, and your hips slow to still as his words sober you.

One side of his lips turn up at that. “Yes, my love. You.” He coaxes your wrist upwards so he can kiss you where his teeth and yours had been. “You,  the light of my life. The reason for my being, The purpose of my existence.” His head falls to the side as he shepherds your hand toward the palpitating muscle along his chest. “I once thought of you as my queen, but I see now that you’re so much more than that.” He places your hand right above his heart, and you’re so mesmerized by those beaming irises of gold that you don’t even realize what he’s done when those warm, calloused fingers brush along the side of your cheek until they rest in your hair and his palm holds the edge of your jaw to coax it upward as he brings his mouth near to yours. “Your voice is a song that even the muses envy. Your body is the drink of the gods that even they would fight wars for. Your mind and soul are so perfect and good that even demons would wish they could bottle them.”

His eyes twinkle with sincerity as he goes on, both fondness and affection for him taking turns to cleanse you of the desire you’d felt before so that something much deeper can fill your entire being.

“Shhh, alpha… you need to rest now. This can all wait until later.” Your words are throaty and full, for your heart has somehow found its way there, too. “You lost a lot of blood and-“

 He seals your mouth with his, and like wax under a newborn wick, you melt into it. He’s warm and gentle in the warmness that he emanates that no candle ever could. The quiet intimacy of it has your lids falling to a close, the air around you making way for you both as you share each other’s breath.

There was nothing quite like this. Nothing like the way that your fingers sought any part of him that they could as they both encircled his uninjured wrist, unwilling to let him go. Nothing like the way your body was perfectly molded against his, the kiss akin to a butterfly’s wing in its softness that could take your breath away. It was the water that quenched after a drought. It was the furs that gave such comfort on a winter’s night. It was the rain and a flame all at once.

And gods, he couldn’t bear even a second’s separation from her. Truly, he’d never been so blessed with the gift of life until now. Until you. Hell would surely have frozen over before he would relinquish this: your mesmerizing, mellow eyes; your pliant, pretty lips; your stuttered, stammered breaths whenever he looked at you; your smaller, tinier hands that loosed and tightened around his wrist as he held you.

But his damned lungs just had to get some air, and so he had been forced into breaking the kiss.

When his mouth parts from yours, he breathes heavily. “I do not need rest when I have you. Imaginings and visions leave little to be desired when their source is on top of me like this. And,” the other side of his lips lift up and you’re sure that thudding in your ears gets louder as he does, “It would be rather impolite not to pay my respects to you, my divine little deity. You were–are–magnificent.”

You try to hide your face in his neck, your cheeks heating up at his praise. He won’t have any of that, and so he urges it back up.

Looking into those eyes is like looking into two orbs spun by the sun. That warmth that emanates over your skin like warm rays makes everything else lackluster, and even his voice carries that vivid color of emotion as he voices, “Do not hide from the truth, my love.”

You make a sound of questioning, not understanding what he’s just said. It’s as if there’s a fuzzy blanket around your body and mind, your disoriented thoughts too sluggish to formulate for you to say much more.

He chuckles lightly, his chest moving up and down gentle enough to not jostle you.

“You do not know it, but I shall help you see.” He offers, nosing at your jawline as he does. “Allow me to show you what you did to me, my love. I think you’ll find the evidence of your miracles when you do.”

He releases you, a quiet whine leaving your lips at the absence of his touch. Soft lips are there to soothe you when his mouth brushes where his hand had been at the edge of your jaw. There he presses his lips as he tells you, “Look down, my love.”

You’d been expecting to see more blood spilling from the open wounds arcing down both sides of his chest, his bandages completely soaked through with his life’s essence.

You did not expect to see one of the lines of gauze you’d laid down over the lacerations lifted in the air by your alpha to reveal a deep gash completely closed, the angry red slash now only a faint line of pink.

As if it were nothing but an old war scar.

At first, you think you might be seeing things.

You blink owlishly at him, and he grins only to pull back another strip of fabric that you’d used to pack another wound.

It, too, is only a faded, paled remnant of what it had been minutes ago.

Your fingers lethargically draw down his torso where the flesh that had been raised and furious is now smooth and normal.

There is no pain that festers there with the poison that had been set upon him by Yoongi’s claw. Its dissipation had had nothing to do with your medicines. He knows that now. It had been you.

Your lids have begun to grow heavy as sleep begins to beckon, and all you can do through the drowsiness that has set as you rest one of your temples against his shoulder so you can still stare at him as you manage the only word you can summon in your dumbfounded state. “How?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about our ancestors. It was said that the first rulers of our kind, who were chosen by the gods, were given abilities no others possessed.” Your mate tosses the soiled dressings into the bowl before he reaches for his splinted arm wrapped in bandages. “Abilities that made the rest of our kind lower their heads in awe.” He unties the knot you’d made out of the ripped fragment of your gown you’d affixed the wooden board to, and while he does, he tells you, “She told me that the king and queen of our kind were fated by their souls. That the first omega’s songs of mourning had so moved the gods when he’d been killed trying to protect her that they gave her the power to heal him through her kiss.”

Slumber drags you away from him, his voice fading the more it tugs and tugs you as he goes on. “So powerful was she that the other wolves revered her as a goddess in her capacity to mend and restore not only the physical body, but the soul and mind as well. And her king? He was vested by the gods who took pity on him with strength, speed, size, and stamina that no other could match.”

Distantly, you think you see a glimpse of the linens you’d put around his arm being peeled back to uncover what you had thought had been a mangled mess of bone and flesh. But no longer. Now, just like his chest, there are only small grazes and punctures that have since been pulled together with slightly darker cicatrix marring him.

When your lids fall closed and sleep takes you from him, he uses that arm to secure you close as he attentively watches over you. In your ear, he confides, “Rest up now, beautiful deity. You shall need it for what is to come, my love.”

[kanmom51]

Jikook car drive to CT

I think that before I dive into the actual car ride I have to set a few things straight.

Did you guys notice they chose to ride together? Shock and awe...

Lmao.

Just a little stab for all those who were nitpicking at them back in 2021-23. Yeah, you's that were all about "but they don't ride in the same car anymore", or "they aren't addressing each other or reacting to each other on SM", or whatever other kind of insecurity for some or just outright malice from others.

JM and JK are the same JM and JK they were before the hiatus and solo paths. Same same. With adjustments having to be made to a new reality of not spending close to 24/7 together. Adjusting to their crazy busy solo work and schedules. Adjusting to learning how to be alone when you are used to not being, because your significant other is submerged in his work while you are not. With adjustments to not having ot7 as their protecting glass closet. When you are used to being together close to 24/7 and circumstances change and you can't anymore, as a couple you need to adjust to that new reality and sometimes it's harder on one of you than the other. Not because you don't love each other or need each other equally, but because you are different people and adjust differently to this new reality.

And in the reality of these 2 young men, well it has been apparent since the beginning of 2023 that JK was the one that was struggling most with these changes. I'd say that this is can be a huge clue to his neurodivergence.

When we look at these two young men, whom I believe to be 2 queer young men in a long term loving relationship, not only do we need to look at them within the context of them being in one of the biggest if not THE biggest band in the world right now, living in a still mostly homophobic society and at the time were looking at enlisting for their 18 month military service, a military that still outlaws sexual relations between men.

This has to be understood while looking at Jikook throughout the years and in 2021-2023, things changing after creation of Hybe, going public, trying to buy out SM and the whole saga with MHJ (which was going on since Oct 2022 behind the scenes).

That's a good starting point understanding them in 2023 and going into watching Are you sure?

But that's not all.

There's more.

Seeing some of the reactions, comments, posts I feel the need to say this as well:

JM and JK are human beings.

They aren't characters in a drama.

This isn't The Bold and the Beautiful, JK not Ridge and JM not Brooke or vise versa (seriously, just picked the parallels because of the current hair colours). They weren't married and divorced ending up with others and then married again and divorced and with others and just going on and on and on. Ups and downs, ins and outs, together and parted. This is real life, not a TV show. Not only would their love not last that (and they clearly love each other), their interactions, their dynamics wouldn't just stay the same same. Not to mention what it would have done to the band and their own relationships with the others. They wouldn't survive it nor would the band. So don't create drama where there isn't is what I say.

What I see is a pretty much levelled long term couple. With relationship bumps in the road, adjustments, frustrations, moods.

I also see 2 queer young men who due to the reality of 2023 have close to zero camera time in one frame. And it shows.

But mainly I see LOTS AND LOTS OF LOVE FOR EACH OTHER.

On top of that I see both of them feeling physically unwell. Poor JM with his stomach issues and bursting pipe (yes I just said that, lol), and JK who has been ill for days, had to go to the hospital for treatment before his solo debut performance, for that performance to be fucked up by the weather. Man was definitley still unwell the whole time constantly sniffling and coughing. And JM worrying about JK's health is another indicator as to it not being nothing.

Bottom line: these are real life people with their own different characteristics, feelings, stress, anxiety, illnesses and the runs.

Not that they didn't know there will be cameras, they were well aware of it, but looks like JM was initially a little shocked to see just how many of them.

Even with the cameras and initial apparent awkwardness, not with each other, but with the whole "it's just the two of us on camera together, no other members to buffer", they are at ease with each other, smiling and giggling.

And even with the cameras and that on one hand need to say things but on the other need to still be wary of what you say and not to say too much - something they are expert at, even if it's been a while and takes them a bit to get back on the wagon with. Even with that they go back to that very jikooky type of formal - informal interaction with each other, JK 'forgetting' JM is the hyung out of the two (like I said, same same).

We have JM's cheeky comment about spooning JK if he's cold, one he insisted on implementing that same night. Mics on, cameras obviously on, but us not allowed to see a thing (and I will talk about this in another post - the whole "if there's nothing to hide how come we didn't get to see one of the apparently funniest moments of the trip, one that the the two and those around them couldn't shut up about?" (phew, that was a long question).

We also get a cute JM looking out for JK's health turning on the heat in the car, turning on his seat heater (without JK knowing about it, lol).

As a whole, those two in the car sounded like an old married couple. I was watching laughing the whole time, the whole thing feeling too familiar, lol.

But I know what you are all waiting for.

More so those that love to question their relationship.

Let's get on and discuss the car convo some are stressing over.

This:

But wait.

Before I talk about it, there's one more word I want to mention.

CONTEXT.

Context is EVERYTHING.

We all know that, right?

And what is the important context here?

Well, first of, this is all in front of the cameras.

Secondly, we ALL KNOW that even with their crazy schedules JM and JK DID GET TO SEE EACH OTHER in those months counting up to this trip, in private, just the two of them.

We know from them that they were together drinking the night before Hobi's enlistment, for example. We know JM was at JK's before JM left for London end of May, JK 'complaining' about having to change the way JM adjusted the mood lamp. We know they are the closest duo in the group, but beyond that, those two are just super close. We know that JK went live basically every time JM left for overseas and was overjoyed when JM showed up in his comments (including his comments during the mukbang live and perhaps coming over after he finished his schedule). This is before this trip. Let's not mention (or maybe let's) the flirt-fest we got in the JK in bed live that came shortly after this trip.

One other huge thing we seem to forget is that:

This is an edited product we are seeing.

Not a live discussion.

And even if it looks like the conversation is somewhat flowing, when you look really closely you see that there are cuts cuts cuts. Some might just be change of camera angle, others are real cuts where you can see that whatever was said was not said at the same time as a flowing conversation.

So, if you look carefully you will see that the first part of the discussion and the part where JM brings up V are not exactly in one flow. That there is a cut between what JK says, and we will get to that, don't fret, and when JM brings up him facetiming with V and what follows.

The start of it is also not clear. If what JM says about not going somewhere together in a while is the start of the flow of conversation, then the clip they are showing us of them in the car driving in the streets of NY is not connected to that, because the conversation continues when they are already out of town. 2 possibilities here. Either that was the start of the convo and for some reason they decided to show the car driving in NY even though the convo happened with them out of the city already. Or, once again, my point that maybe the convo isn't in one flow - even that first part of it. That JM did say what he said when they were still in the city and then their conversation following was edited in a way that we didn't get much of it until they were already out of the city and JK says what he says.

Reason I bring this up is again to emphasize the fact that as much as we are let in, we are still getting an edited product.

You know, same edited product that cuts out their flirty playful bedtime toothbrushing session.

I also want to bring this up, because I basically agree with much of what @shellbells-things the importance of them needing that getaway together (in this post):

This was written with the official translations in mind.

But you see, this is not what JK said.

The actual translation is basically JK calling out JM for not seeking him out enough!!!

And we also have this from @haedalkoo (thanks you for this post💜):

And why does it matter? Why do these different translations matter? Because they tell us a totally different story.

In the first you have JK saying that when one of them is busy, even though the other is not, he does not tend to call/reach out to the one that is busy. Basically this could be read as them not making an effort to contact the other even when they had time on their hands to do so. And perhaps that is why there are people up in arms about this, although my take of it is that even if this was the correct translation, which it is not, that understanding, that conclusion, would have been a very superficial one, disregarding the context of those two, who they are, where they are and what they are doing, as mentioned above.

In the other, what seems to be the more accurate translation, we have a salty boyfriend complaining about his partner not reaching out to him when he's busy, but also not reaching out to him when JK is busy, even if JM is not as busy.

"Your busy you don't seek me out, your not busy you don't seek me out"...

Now let's look at what JK said within the context of it all.

This isn't about them not seeing each other, not being in touch at all. Being estranged. Losing contact. Like so many want it to be about, given that would be so much more dramatic and 'interesting'.

This is about it not being enough for JK.

Enough being the key word.

JM and JK are different. They are both highly driven, and when JK has a JM by his side, said JM is a catalyst and has JK as driven as him. But you see, they weren't together. JM, being the workaholic that he is, highly driven with his work, having to give not 100% but 1000%, could easily lose himself in that work. And as much as he loves JK, or perhaps even more so because he's crazy about him, he can't have him around as a distraction. So, in a sense, when he works he can get lost in that work and that leaves little "free" time to spend with the person he loves, the person that loves him, the person that needs him. Same person that was REALLY struggling at the start of 2023 while JM was too absent. Again, that does not mean that JM was not spending time with JK. It was just not enough. Especially while JK was sort of lost at that point in a sense that he had no clear path set for himself. JK is different in the sense that JM is kind of his blankie, his anchor, his safe place. He needs JM around even when he is up to nothing (see JM's "he comes to my room to lie on my bed and do nothing" from the LA live 2021). And having him around is a need. Do we remember crying JK at the end of his lives on White day 2023. Heart wrenching. And again, it's not that JM doesn't need JK, he does, but a. his need is different to JK's, and b. JM was super busy at the time while JK was doing basically nothing.

And when JK was busy, well I'm guessing that JM was giving him the space he thought JK needed to work. But obviously this wasn't what JK wanted.

This saltiness is all coming from the same person that says he doesn't answer his phone calls or reply to texts. The person that JM complained when he doesn't answer his calls. With all that he still needed JM to reach out. He needed to know that JM is thinking about him.

This conversation isn't about them not seeing each other. It's about not seeing each other enough. It's about JM not seeking JK out as much as JK needed him to. And it's about them not being able, for whichever reasons (exterior or self inflicted) to do exactly this. Be out and about together. The two of them. This is exactly what you do in a healthy long term relationship. You talk. You are open. You tell your partner how you feel and what you need.

And you know what JK sounded like to me?

He reminded me of this JK:

The JK that even though he had already scolded JM he couldn't just let it go. That even though JM apologized several times and explained himself, he just couldn't let it go because it was weighing on him, that choice that he felt JM made.

And I know, I just know, that this conversation we got in the car was not a one of. That "Your here. Finally" we got from him at the end...

He needed this to happen, for JM to make this happen.

I will also add, even though I cannot go into too much detail at this point, that I feel that the : "You're here. Finally", has so much more sub context to it within the way they had both handled 2022-23 and that adjustment to the new reality. Not about it being easier for one over the other, but more so about how they handled this "apartness" that was kind of forced on them.

Anyway, that "finally", that was it for me. Seeing. No. Feeling how this was weighing on JK. Feeling just how important this was for him. JM making that effort and showing up for him like he did.

I hope that I have managed to get the message through. I will drill it in with my three keywords to this post:

COUPLE

CONTEXT

ENOUGH

I will end this by saying this:

Read that convo as you will, see those two as you will. At the end of the day not only did they CHOOSE to do this again and again (even with the little time they still had with their crazy schedules and upcoming enlistment). Not only did JK say he wanted to keep going with this until they are 50 years old. But they also CHOSE to enlist together. To be TOGETHER for those 18 months of military service. CHOOSING to do so knowing that meant a harder service and placement.

At the end of the day they CHOSE EACH OTHER.

And they will keep on doing so!!!

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Posting schedule: Friday Misdemeanor, and Wednesdays for one the occasional one shot. Tag lists are always open. 

Join us in the VoxTek Discord server for a Vox themed Hazbin place to hang and get teasers for upcoming chapters! 

my AO3 and Kofi

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart 

Cover done by @redvexillum

Human Alastor x married reader Rated Adult for adult themes,triggering content and sexual content. Potentially DD:DNE, mind the warnings Series Trigger Warnings: Adultery, stalking, Sexual assault, Rape, smut, Domestic Violence, Time period accurate views on women and domestic violence and skin color, murder

Summary: Fading away in an abusive marriage, each day passes just the same as the last. Painful monotony eats at you until a pair of warm brown eyes sparks the idea that you could have something more. When a business deal between men sparks a torrid affair, how long can you keep things going before the fire either leaves you a burnt out shell or burns up everything around you?

And what becomes of the radio host who thought he was above the fickle fires of the heart when the match he strikes burns his hand instead? Can he possess what rightfully belongs to another man without leaving everything he has fought for in ashes?

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59. 60

MisD Sidepieces: One shots or fics that take place in a MisD AU or are MisD canon but written by another.

Inappropriate Demeanor by @nyx-umbrakinesis (Canon placement, end of chapter 22)

Audio Chapters by Nyx Productions: Chapter 1: part 1 part 2, Chapter 2:  Part 1, part 2, part 3, chapter 3, Part 1, part 2, part 3, Chapter 4: Part 1, Part 2,  Chapter 5: Part 1, Part 2, Chapter 6: Part 1, Part 2

For Eternity (Completed)

Banner by @redvexillum

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult Warnings: This fic contains sexual content, explorations of consent within Angel Dust's contract in relation to sex work, Sexual assault, Possessive and obsessive behaviors, Power dynamics, Adam being an ass, kidnapping, Vox is in hell for a reason, Val is in hell for a reason, Vox has a weird thing for Alastor, Angel Dust is sweet as pie, murder, revenge, implied sexual assault and harassment, miscarriage and death.

Summary: Isabel died young, leaving behind her husband to pick up the pieces. Finding herself in Heaven, she waits for her husband to join her. And waits. And waits. Years and decades pass as she faces the realization that Alastor may not be joining her in Heaven, leaving her largely alone in a realm of double standards and fake smiles.

She must decide if she is going to move on from her marriage or do whatever it takes to reunite with her husband. Would he even still want her? Would she survive the dangers to find him? Would the cost be worth what could be gained?

Is Heaven really Heaven if the one you love isn't there with you?

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Another day in Paradise (On hiatus)

Pairing: Eventually Alastor x OFC, later- light Alastor x ofc x Lucifer Rated: Adult for eventual smut Content warnings: It's Hazbin Hotel- this feels redundant. Sex, eventual smut, referenced implied suicide to be discussed in more detail later, drugs, drinking, poor coping, toxic behavior, controlling behavior, cannibalism, idk, it's fucking Hazbin Hotel, if it's worth a content warning it's probably going to come up at some point? Religious trauma. reader has a name/is a oc.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

A Taste of Sugar

Alastor x reader Rated: Adult for smut TW: blood kink, bondage, reader with trauma from food insecurity Summary: As you work through the trauma of your life and starving to death, you dismantle your stash of snacks for what you hope will be the final time. Snack cakes, cookies and crackers are given to everyone around you, except one resident in the hotel whom you knew wouldn't enjoy or consume the treats. Then, as the flow of treats tricked to a stop, stash dismantled, small brown boxes containing treats began to appear at your door. Simple, delicious and seemingly homemade treats without so much as a note.

He watched and he waited, each week for your offer. Each week, no offer came and again he left his gift at your door. Why would you not think of him? Why would you not see him? What did he have to do for you to consider him?

Chapters: 1,  2 

Wild Flowers (One shot)

Alastor x readerRated: Adult, 18+ Content warnings: Sex pollen trope and related questionable consent due to intoxication, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, knotting, praise, dancing that shouldn't be that sexy, biting, a touch of blood drinking, female masterbation, some possessiveness, Alastor being a bit of an ass

Summary: You had always loved flowers, so when you found a patch of pretty purple wildflowers growing in the small forest behind the hotel, you didn't think twice about picking a small handful to bring back to your room. While they smelled lovely, you were wholly unprepared for the side effects of exposure or the repercussions of offering the terrifyingly handsome Radio Demon a smell on your way to your room.

With your body burning from the inside out with an overwhelming need and a displeased Radio Demon pushing his way into your room, you have no idea what you're in for.

All you wanted was to pick some flowers but you got so much more.

Audio version brought to you by @nyx-umbrakinesis,  Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6.

Steamy Situations 18+  (One shot)

Alastor x readerRated: Adults only Warnings: Smut. It's shower smut. Female bodied reader. Careful with your shower sex.

Summary: You're hot and bored and your husband is busy working. If only there was a way you could distract him, get some of his attention and cool off. Audio Fic credits: Read by the lovely @nyx-umbrakinesis (Audio fic part 1, part 2)

Read me to sleep? (One shot)

Alastor x readerRating: G Summary: After a long, shitty day out and about you drag yourself home to the hotel to seek shelter and comfort in the one place you knew you could find it.

Home is where the heart is (One shot fluff) 

Vox x Reader Rated: General Warnings: I accidently spilled a little angst on the fluff serving. Sorry?

Summary: You're cooking dinner when your secret boyfriend comes home. Caught up in the moment, confessions are made and hearts are put on the line.

A Bed of Electric FLowers (One Shot)

Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum

Vox x ReaderRated: Adult CW: Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral,

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

Sister Dearest (One shot)

Requested: Vox x Alastor’s!Sister!Reader rated: Adult

Summary: Sneaking out of the protection of the protection of your brother's district was dangerous. Not only did you risk Alastor's wrath, you risked catching the eye of some unsavory characters. While you could meet many friends upon the streets of the forbidden tech district, you find Vox and his alluring promises of a good time.He knew of your brother and seemed to hold no animosity, surely he was a friend to the Radio Demon, right? Surely you could trust his company, right?Right?

Power (One Shot)

Vox x Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Warnings: Porn without plot, Power dynamics, Secretary reader, Choking on dick, Office blowjob. 

Summary: Vox is wound tight after his on air showdown with the newly returned Alastor. The show must go on though and you have just what he needs to get into the right headspace to move forward. 

(None, for now)

(None, for now)

[yuusishi]

hi could I pls request malleus and Leona headcanon with spouses who are best friends (preferably this takes place alittle bit in the future) my and my friend both love the each and where just talking about how funny it would be for them to have to put up with eachother for their spouses :3

. . . JUST BEAR WITH IT!

pairings : Leona Kingscholar , Malleus Draconia (sep.) x gn!reader

genre : fluff + time skip !

cws/tws : none

a/n : I'm sorry if this might be ass this is the first req I'm working on after my small hiatus 😭

Leona Kingscholar !!

He didn't know if he should be impressed by you being best friends with the literal spouse of Malleus Draconia or the fact they were able to pull him in the first place.

But one thing that he does know is the fact he.does.not.want.to.be.here.

You'd notice that neither Malleus or Leona have changed since graduation. Still the same old tired cat from savanaclaw and the imposing but mainly socially inept fae from diasomnia.

As much as he'd like to bicker with the old prince, he'd prefer not to have (older) Sebek yelling into his ear how "ungrateful" he is for insulting Malleus during their "reunion".

So he sticks to the most passive aggressive jabs you can think of, ones that just almost fly over the fae prince's head. Almost.

These two were one of the smartest third years in their batch after all...

When their side of the table is stuck in a slightly tense silence, he just stares at you and your friend who had the totally opposite atmosphere around you two compared to him and Malleus.

He's glad you're enjoying yourself at least. He doesn't realize it himself but he's unexpectedly enjoying this get-together with old 'friends'.

Honestly you thought he'd be grumbling to himself once you got in the car about how much he dislikes Malleus, but you realize he's in an unexpectedly happy mood (with his resting bitch face still in tact), even agreeing to indulge in co-op gaming or having a movie marathon at home at the cost of staying up late :).

Malleus Draconia !!

😊

He's not one to purposefully rile up others for the sake of his own enjoyment, but if the other person starts it then who is he to reject the invitation to a fun little "argument."

To tell the truth, he was excited for this hang out with your friend. He's glad to meet your bestie and he doesn't mind catching up with a college friend (in his words).

After graduation he doesn't get to be as free as he was in NRC since he was the king now, so this meet up is like a breath of fresh air in the usual stuffy halls of the Briar Valley castle.

He isn't that different compared to Leona, their minced words against each other betraying their friendly smiles while you and your friend continued catching up.

You'd think the words Leona threw at Malleus would annoy the fae at least a tiny bit, but the sky remained as clear and sunny as it was when you left the castle for the day.

He enjoyed this atmosphere that the gathering brought, sometimes even wishing the other NRC students he studied alongside with were present.

Once your back inside the castle, you watch Malleus do his paperwork in his study with a little more pep in his step. He really is still that housewarden of diasomnia you've come to love.

[wisteriadumster]

Sunny Ride ❥Arthur Morgan

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER

CW➻❥ outdoor sex⋆ smoking ⋆cowgirl position ⋆ making out ⋆ somewhat handjob ⋆ f! & m! orgasms ⋆ teasing ⋆ outdoor nudity ⋆ rough sex ⋆

WC➻❥1071➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥ while out relaxing with Arthur you get a mischievous urge to tease him. You stand above him with only a skirt and shirt on, your skirt scrunched up to your knees. One thing leads to another and you ride him like you saved a horse.

A/N ➻❥ sorry that I haven’t posted I’ve been on a summer hiatus, I’ve been enjoying and soaking up all the summer I can get. But I should start posting fics regularly again soon <3

･｡ﾟ☆:*.☾ ·☽.* :☆ﾟ.

Do Not Steal Or Translate My Work!

You looked over your shoulder, the man who was practically your husband laid in grass. His hat was slightly tilted over his forehead, and cigarette smoking was dancing into a mix with the warm summer air.

You brushed through your horse's mane once more before setting the horse brush into your saddlebag.

A mischievous smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you began walking towards Arthur. You scrunched and curled your skirt in your hands, slowly pulling it just over your knees. You stood above him, your cowboy boots just next to his shoulders. You looked down, Arthur’s eyes just barely peeking open.

“What are you doin’?” Arthur mumbled, you didn’t answer, instead giggled. “I swear woman, you may just be the death of me.” He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, you felt hot smoke crawl up your legs.

You dropped your skirt, and walked around Arthur’s big build. You sat on his stomach, a bright grin on your face as you looked at the man you loved. “Oh darlin’ don’t hide your mischief behind that smile.” He saw through you, “oh shut up you big dummy.” You leaned down and kissed him, letting yourself be gentle. He wrapped his arms around you. “I’m gonna burn through your clothes with my ash,” he removed an arm, the smell of cigarette still burning. “Well I can fix that problem,” you pulled yourself away.

Arthur seemed anxious as you removed your shirt, “what if someone sees us?” You smiled as his worry had answered that he wanted this just as bad as you. “We’d put on a good show.” You pulled your shirt over your head and it fell beside you.

“How did I manage to get such a lustful woman?” He stared at you, enjoying each part of your exposed skin. “You’re not much of a saint yourself.” Arthur stuck the burning bud of tobacco in his mouth for a final drag, he held his breath as he crushed the end of the cigarette into the ground.

You leaned back down, taking in Arthur’s exhale of smoke that twisted around your kiss. The kiss was savory and sweet, Arthur touched you with a deliciously you craved for every time. His rough and dirty hands running up your body as they touched your carved and sculpted body. “How do you always touch me in the right places?” You smile and slowly grind yourself on his hips, “every place is the right place sweetheart.” His voice is low before he kisses you again, his hands holding your hips, assisting you as you grind against his hardened pants.

You pulled yourself away from Arthur's gentle pink lips. Your hand trailed down your body, Arthur watching as it disappeared under your skirt. Your fingers struggled and fiddled with the lonesome button of Arthur's pants. “Jesus baby,” Arthur mumbled as he let his head fall back, waiting for whatever was to come.

You brought your hand to your mouth, gently letting spit land on it before you brought it under your skirt again. Arthur focused on undoing his shirt buttons.

You wrapped your hand around Arthur’s cock, twisting and pumping your hand around it to get it evenly wet. “Shit,” you could hear Arthur’s quiet groan, a smirk on your face as you continued.

You adjusted yourself until you were perfectly hovered over Arthur’s cock and slowly guided yourself until his tip entered. Your body tensed, you noticed Arthurs abdomen tighten as well. You lowered yourself and more, gasping as his cock filled you. “Darlin’” that’s all he could whisper as you both got comfortable.

Your hands pushed against Arthus ribs as you rose and fell. Arthurs hands on your thighs, helping you to ride him. “Fuck,” you bit your bottom lip as you moved your hips around, grinding yourself with Arthur as he thrusted.

Your nails dug into Arthur’s hairy chest as your climax grew, your body wanting to hit its high. Arthur’s eyes watched as your breasts moved with you, bouncing as rode him. “You’re so pretty darlin.” Arthur’s head fell back again as his own climax was hit.

You mixed your own moan with Arthur’s groan as his cum warmed you. Your nails dug harder and deeper as your body tensed at the high of your orgasm before your muscles relaxed.

You were both panting, your chests rising and lowering from exertion. You rubbed your hands softly around Arthur as you came back to yourself. “Why don’t we do this more often?” You smile through breathing, your fingertips set just at Arthurs

V line. “I have no idea darlin’.”

You sat on Arthur’s hips again. Admiring Arthurs bare chest. “We should get back, Dutch will start wondering why it took so long to go shopping.” Arthur held your waist, his hands rubbing up and down your body. “He can wonder all he likes.” Your hands traveled up Arthur and cupped his cheeks as you went down to kiss him.

The kiss was nearly as intimate and passionate as before, but it tasted just as good and bitter. “I could do this everyday.” You pulled back, your faces just inches from each other. “You’re quite addicting, ya know that sweetheart?” He smiled and ran his hands over your back, bringing them to your shoulders. “Maybe we should get going.”

You had both somewhat had redressed, your shirt was roughly buttoned, Arthur hadn’t even buttoned his.

You passed the cigarette back to Arthur, watching over one of the many ridges and cliffs in New Hanover. “Can we do this once a week?” You asked, still admiring the sunny day. “We can arrange that.” Arthur exhaled the tobacco smoke, his arm over your shoulders as he admired the same view. “Should we go after this?” You asked, though you wished you could stay in the moment forever. “It would be for the best.”

You took the final puff on the shrinking bud, enjoying every last second before you crushed into the grass. “I’ll ready the horses.” Arthur stood, his hat in hand. “What a gentleman you are.” You joked before taking Arthur’s aged gambler hat, and setting it on your head. Arthur looked as the hat was loose on you, “I’ll see you by the horses.”

You handed Arthur his hat, before getting onto your own horse. “Every week.” You smiled, “every week.” Arthur tipped his hat and you began riding out of the meadowed cliff.