#not even but also I want to hold him in my hands

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

． 𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 . ?!

⟢ tws : nsfw/smut, bunny fem!reader, dubcon, p*rn with no plot, rough sex, degradation, dumbification, dirty talk, crying, mild dacryphilia, overstimulation, size kink?, clit play, squirting, mention of reader drooling, reader is implied to be chubby, tail and ears play, pet names (bunny, sweetheart, etc), & other stuff!

⟢ note : art header is by rororo_mg on X ! also happy 900+ followers for me! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡ also not proofread!

“You're such a dumb little bunny, aren’t you?” Phainon chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement as he pressed you against the mattress, his body caging yours in. His gloved fingers dug into your plush thighs, keeping you spread wide as he fucked into you with rough, steady thrusts. Your soft ears twitched helplessly, your fluffy tail flicking against the sheets, every movement of your body betraying how completely wrecked you were.

You could barely form a response—your mouth hung open, soft little whimpers spilling out as your body jolted with every deep stroke.

“Bet you can’t even think right now, huh?”Phainon teased, nipping at your jaw before grabbing your chin, making you look at him. “Just a stupid little bunny, letting me fuck you silly.”

You moaned at his words, your head lolling to the side. “Ngh—P-Phainon—feels too good,” you whined, your hands gripping onto his clothes for stability.

“Yeah?” His grin widened, amusement flickering in his baby blue eyes. “Then you better hold on, sweetheart, ‘cause I’m not stopping till that pretty little brain of yours turns to mush.”

And with that, he slammed into you harder, drawing out another desperate, needy moan. You could only whimper, your tail fluffing up against the sheets, completely at his mercy, your body trembling as he fucked you stupid—just like he said he would.

Phainon only laughed when your voice broke into a hiccupping whimper, your soft thighs trembling beneath his grip. His pace never slowed, fucking into you with the same rough, devastating rhythm that had your body bouncing helplessly beneath him. You were so warm, so tight around him, your insides squeezing down like you were made for this.

“N-No!” you sobbed, your ears twitching violently as you tried to shake your head. “I’m not a stupid bunny!”

But your little cries, the way you clung to him, the way your body responded so perfectly to every thrust—you weren’t fooling anyone. Least of all Phainon.

He smirked, leaning down until his lips brushed against the tear-streaked heat of your cheek. “Oh? Then why are you drooling all over yourself, huh?” He rolled his hips, forcing a choked gasp from your swollen lips. “Why are you taking me so well, squeezing me like you don’t want me to stop?”

“I-I don’t—!” you hiccupped, your voice cracking as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your tail flicked wildly against the sheets, your hands clawing at his shoulders, but there was no real fight in your movements—just desperation. Just need.

Phainon grinned against your cheek, biting down gently before licking away the dampness of your tears. “Liar,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. His fingers slid down to press against the sensitive bump between your thighs, circling it in lazy, teasing strokes. “You love being my dumb bunny. Even if you won’t admit it.”

You let out a high, shuddering sob, your walls clenching around him in pure, involuntary reaction. “Ngh—d-don’t s-say that!” you wailed, your face burning hot.

Phainon only hummed, his smirk deepening. “I’ll stop when you stop proving me right.” He thrust deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and your next cry came out broken—too lost in pleasure to be anything but the truth.

Phainon’s smirk only widened when your breath hitched into another helpless sob, your body arching beneath him as he kept up his pace. Your ears twitched violently, your tail fluffing up against the sheets, betraying just how overwhelmed you were. He was right, and you both knew it—you could cry and protest all you wanted, but your body told the real story.

“Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his lips down your tear-streaked cheek, nipping at your jaw. “All fucked dumb on my cock, still trying to act like you’ve got a single thought in that little head of yours.” He laughed, deep and smug, his gloved fingers pressing firmer against the throbbing bud between your thighs. “Sweetheart, you lost that fight the second you started drooling.”

You let out a choked whimper, your hands pawing uselessly at his shoulders. "S-Shut up!" you wailed, voice high and desperate, but it only made him push deeper, drawing another broken sob from your lips.

“Make me,” he taunted, his thrusts growing sharper, sending jolts of pleasure through your trembling form. “Oh, wait—you can’t. Too busy taking it like my perfect, dumb little bunny.”

Your tail flicked wildly, your whole body squirming beneath him as if trying to escape the truth pressing down on you from all angles. But there was nowhere to run—not when you were stretched around him, not when every roll of his hips sent heat licking up your spine.

“N-No! I-I don’t—!” You gasped as he angled deeper, your head tossing back against the pillows. “I d-don’t—!”

“You do.” His fingers gripped your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His blue eyes burned with amusement, with something darker, something possessive. “So go on, sweetheart. Cry for me. Beg me to stop if you really mean it.”

Your breath shuddered, your lips parting—but no protest came. Just another soft, needy little whimper. Just another desperate clench around his cock.

Phainon grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

And then he fucked you harder.

Phainon’s relentless thrusts drove you deeper into a frenzy, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. Each powerful push sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you, your walls clenching around him with an urgency that only fueled his desire to dominate. He loved the way you writhed beneath him, a perfect mix of desperation and delight.

“Look at you, so lost in it,” he taunted, his voice low and sultry as he leaned down to kiss the tender skin of your neck. “Can you even think straight? Or is that little brain of yours just full of how good it feels to be my dumb bunny?”

You could only whimper in response, the heat pooling in your core building to an almost unbearable intensity. You felt utterly exposed, completely at his mercy, and yet every thrust only stoked the fire within you. It was maddening—and yet you craved more.

“Please…” you begged, your voice breaking as you desperately sought release. “I need—”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Phainon’s grip on your chin tightened as he pulled back, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Use your words.”

“I need… I need you to touch me there!” you cried out, cheeks flushed with humiliation but unable to deny the truth of your desire.

“Touch you where?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Your breath hitched as he thrust deeper, the force of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you again and again. “M-My clit! Please!”

“Good girl,” he said, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “I’ll give you what you want.”

With that, he released your chin and moved his hand between your bodies, fingers expertly finding your clit. His touch was electric, the pressure building as he rubbed tight circles around the sensitive bud, perfectly timed with the rhythm of his thrusts.

You gasped, your body arching off the bed as pleasure surged through you. “Yes! Just like that!” you cried, feeling the heat coiling tighter and tighter within you.

“See? There’s that beautiful sound,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth as he kept his fingers moving, teasing and coaxing your pleasure higher. “You’re such a good little bunny for me, aren’t you?”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your world narrowing down to the sensations coursing through you—the fullness of his cock inside you, the blissful pressure of his fingers on your clit, and the overwhelming wave of heat threatening to crest. You were close, so close, but it felt like a teasing edge that just wouldn’t tip.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” Phainon warned, his tone shifting to something more commanding. “I want to feel you squirt all over my cock, sweetheart. Let go. Let me feel you.”

The authority in his voice sent another jolt of desire through you, and with every thrust, every flick of his fingers, you felt the dam within you ready to break. “P-Phainon, I—I can’t—!”

“Shh, just let it happen,” he coaxed, his fingers moving faster, harder against your clit. “You can do it. I know you can.”

It felt like everything in your body was tightening, a spring coiling to its limit. You could hardly think; all that existed was the pulsing pleasure, the ache for release, and Phainon’s relentless voice urging you on.

And then, with one final thrust and a desperate cry, it happened. The world exploded in pleasure as you let go, your body responding without hesitation. You squirted around his cock, the rush of ecstasy washing over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under.

“Yes! Just like that, sweetheart!” Phainon growled, his pace never faltering as he reveled in the feeling of you clenching and spasming around him. “Such a good girl. Look at you—completely lost in it.”

You felt like you were floating, the room spinning as pleasure coursed through you in waves, leaving you breathless. Every aftershock was more intense than the last, your body still trembling beneath him as he continued to drive into you, pushing you through the high you’d just reached.

“Please… I can’t—” you gasped, but Phainon’s thrusts showed no signs of slowing.

“Keep going, sweetheart. I want to feel you milk me dry,” he said, voice low and hungry. “You’re going to take everything I have to give.”

Each thrust was met with the perfect friction of his cock against your walls, your sensitive clit still throbbing under his ministrations. You felt overstimulated but still yearning for more, and with every sharp thrust, every roll of his hips, you were dragged deeper into the whirlpool of pleasure he had created.

“Phainon, I can’t take it!” you cried, tears of pleasure spilling from your eyes as your body writhed beneath him.

“Then tell me how much you want it,” he commanded, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “Tell me how much you love being my dumb little bunny.”

You gasped, your heart racing at his words, feeling the heat flush through you once again. “I—I love it! I love being your dumb bunny! Please, don’t stop!” You cried out loud, your fluffy tail wiggling like crazy.

“Good girl,” he purred, the satisfaction in his voice sending a thrill through you. “Now let’s see just how much more you can take.”

With renewed determination, he picked up his pace, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep within you, each thrust pushing you closer to another edge. You were completely at his mercy, and in that moment, you couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

“P—Phainon—Ahh!” you cried out, feeling the pressure building again, ready to explode. “I’m so close!”

“Let go for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you come around me again,” he urged, his voice a sultry promise that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt that familiar tightness coiling in your core once more, and with a few more thrusts, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your cunt tightened around him, and you cried out as you came again, squirting around him in a rush of ecstasy.

“Yes! That’s it!” Phainon growled, his own release following closely behind as he thrust into you one last time, filling your pussy up completely. The sensation of him spilling into you pushed you even higher, and you felt like you were floating in pure bliss, completely consumed by pleasure.

As the waves of ecstasy finally began to subside, Phainon collapsed beside you, panting and satisfied, a satisfied grin on his face. “See? You really are my perfect little bunny.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[crowsofdarkness]

You've been braty all evening and suggest a fun game to play with Bucky: Hide and fuck.

18+ CW's below the cut( mask kink, protected pinv since she's on the implant, oral with both male and female receiving, fingering, masturbation, choking, degradation, rope play/bondage, making of a sex tape, rough/possessive sex, and slight voyeurism)

a/n: ok I fully understand that Bucky wearing the mask post winter solider is somewhat traumatic but in this little universe/fic, Bucky is trying to get over the trauma by replacing that feeling of fear with something different.

My breath was unsteady and echoed loud in the confined space I found myself in. Surely Bucky had to be returning to our room soon, it had been hours since I left him at the bar with Steve, now almost ten in the evening. As soon as I came back to our room, I went about showering off the long days filth and slipped into a new piece of lingerie I’d bought a while ago just never found the perfect time to wear it. 

Until now. 

All night, I’d been teasing Bucky by whispering all of the filthy things I wanted him to do to me. More so, I wanted him to chase me and fuck me. Unfortunately even with the size of our room, there still wasn’t enough space for Bucky to hunt me down so I had to settle with a simple game of hide and seek. 

Or as I called it in the text I sent him: hide and fuck. 

I managed to fit myself in the large wardrobe dresser that we had in our room, the ones that were tall enough where I could sit inside of it somewhat comfortably. The scent of my peach perfume, Bucky’s favorite,  clouded around me as I sat with my knees pulled to my chest. Just when I was about to give up, tired of waiting, I heard the insert of a key card into the slot and the door clicking open. I had left the light on in the main area of the hotel room so some of it could cast a light into where I was hiding but with a soft click, everything was blanketed in black. 

Bucky’s back. 

Holding a hand over my mouth, I tried so hard to remain quiet even though I was beyond giddy with excitement that he had agreed to this. I knew that this was also supposed to be a therapeutic exercise for him. A way for him to see himself in his old Hydra mask and come to terms he’s not that person anymore. 

Although he was afraid, we both knew that those words that controlled him were long gone. No longer programmed. Even if he wore the mask tonight, Bucky wouldn’t become the soldier. 

His footsteps were so light, almost nonexistent, as he moved around the room. I could feel his presence as it halted in front of the wardrobe and before I could register what was happening, Bucky ripped open the doors and yanked me from it. 

My body fell to the floor with little damage and I quickly scurried away from Bucky only for his fingers to wrap around my ankle, dragging me back to him. His large body loomed over me, lust filled eyes and his lower half of his face was covered by the mask.  His breathing was all I heard as I stared up at him. He wore nothing but the mask and black briefs, hanging low on his hips. The light colored hairs of his happy trail brought a tender smile to my face. 

“Found you,” Bucky growled as his palms traced over the thin white lace of my lingerie, his eyes growing even darker. 

“I-I guess you did,” I stammered while he climbed on top of me. 

WIth his hips locking me in place, Bucky reached over my head towards a bag I hadn’t noticed before and riffled through it. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the rope between his hands, him threading it between his fingers. 

Bounding my hands to my ankles, Bucky went about tying them together with the rope, checking how tight it was before letting the game slip away for a moment. 

“Too tight?” 

I shook my head. “I promise, it’s fine.” 

He took off the hair tie around his wrist and gathered my hair away from my face and into a ponytail. His vibranium finger grazed over my cheek, forcing my eyes to meet his. 

“If you ever want to stop, say red,” he said quietly. 

“Okay,” I breathed, understanding the usage of our new safe word. 

With my hands and feet bound together, I let out a squeal of laughter mixed with shock as Bucky lifted me from the ground, carrying me like a tied animal over towards our bed and roughly tossed me onto it. My ass was up towards the ceiling, barely covered by the lace I wore, and his nostrils flared when he leaned over my lower half, still donning the mask. 

“You smell so good,” he praised while kneeling on the bed. 

“Peaches,” I informed, reminding him of my perfume. 

Bucky hooked a finger into my panties, shifting it to the side so he could brush his nose along my wet folds. 

“Oh,” I murmured when I realized what kind of smell he was referring to. 

Due to how I was tied up, I wasn’t able to look down and see Bucky between my legs, but I could feel the faint brush of his tongue over my clit and I pulled on my bindings. 

“One more thing,” Bucky said before slipping away from me to rummage around in my suitcase. 

I turned my head towards him. “We don’t need a condom. I’m on the implant, remember?” 

He ignored me, still rummaging around in my bag until he spun quickly on his heels towards me holding onto one of my camcorders. 

“Sex tape?” I asked with a teasing edge to my voice. 

Bucky’s lips curled up after he ripped off the mask. “A fucking sex tape.” 

After making sure it was fully charged and set up on the dresser across the bed with the perfect angle, he was quick to be back at the foot of the bed, kneeling on the floor. 

“I want to taste you so fucking bad, doll. Will you let me?” 

My head fell back to the mattress with fluttering eyes. “Please.”

Yanking my panties to the side again, Bucky was quick to devour me, teeth and tongue all over my core. My body writhed against the bed as he took turns between my clit and folds with his tongue before ultimately wrapping his lips around my sensitive bud and forced two vibranium fingers inside of me. 

“Shit,” I panted as the orgasm was quick to build. 

I’d been on edge all night waiting for him and I knew it wouldn’t take me long to reach there. Bucky momentarily removed his fingers from me to press the fullness of his tongue against my folds, licking me up from the bottom to the top.

"Fuck," I moaned when his tongue speared inside of me for a few strokes, before replacing it with his fingers again. 

Bucky’s lips wrapped around my clit to bite and suck at the bundle of nerves. He ate me like a man starved as was offered his final meal before death. The familiar burn at the base of my spine made me call out his name; in a praise and a warning. 

“So close,” I keened. 

Bucky’s arm held up my legs that were still bound and since his mouth was a little preoccupied, he smacked my ass with the hand that was holding my panties to the side. 

Let go, doll. 

I came with a shout, grinding myself against Bucky’s face as he licked and finger fucked me through the aftershocks. 

“Shit,” I choked on a breath when he pulled away only to rise to his feet, yanking down his brieds, now standing in front of me in nothing but the mask. 

I pulled on my bindings, yearning to touch him, but let out an aggravated cry when I realized how tight he tied them. 

“I need to be inside you, doll,” Bucky admitted while grabbing a hold of my ankles with one hand and guiding himself inside of me with the other. 

Both of our groans of pleasure tangled sweetly together and Bucky, who stood at the edge of the bed now, slammed into me with such force, it shook the headboard against the wall. The sound of skin on skin was heaven sent, along with the image of Bucky’s head rolled back, mouth open as he let out pants of air in tangent with each of his thrust. They were brutal, nearly bruising, but I reveled in it. It awoken a fire deep inside of me that from now on needed to be set ablaze. 

“So.” 

Thrust.

“Fucking.” 

Thrust. 

“Tight,” Bucky groaned as his hips stalled for a moment and I watched as the muscles in his stomach constricted. 

He was close but was trying not to tumble over the edge so he slipped out from me. Before I could protest, he was climbing onto the bed towards me. He lifted my head up, wrapping my hair around his hand to force my mouth towards his cock slick with my arousal. 

“Open that pretty little mouth,” he demanded, yanking on my scalp. 

With glittering eyes gazing up at him, I parted my lips so he could force himself inside. He ignored my gagging as he hate fucked my throat with such a bruising grip on my hair, I was sure it would be sore for days. Drool pooled from my mouth and around his cock, dripping down to my chest. 

“Such a good little slut,” Bucky smacked my cheek with the hand that wasn't tangled in my hair. “You love the way you taste, huh?”

My yelp of shock was drowned out by his cock as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. I could taste myself on it, the tangy arousal lingering on my tongue. But soon I was gasping for breath when Bucky pulled himself from my mouth to grab a hold of my chin, bringing his face mere meters from mine. 

“I asked you a question, doll. I expect you to answer it.”

I did the best I could to nod with his tight grip but it wasn’t enough for him so he tapped my cheek again. 

“Words. You need to use your words.” 

“Yes,” I blurted. “Yes, I love the way I taste on your cock.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praised before forcing his cock deep inside my throat again. 

This time, he didn’t hold himself back as he spilled himself inside of my mouth. 

“Don’t you dare swallow,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held the back of my head, letting my tongue glide him through the aftershocks. 

I held his seed in my mouth, long after he fell to the bed next to me, only to reach into the bag he brough, pulling out a knife. My eyes widened but unable to speak, I held my breath. 

Bucky brushed his lips over mine. “You can swallow now, pretty girl.” 

Obeying him, I let out a breath and motioned towards the shiny blade. “I think this is a step too far.”

He let out a low chuckle before reaching for my bound legs and hands. “Relax, doll. I’m just cutting you free.”

Tattered rope fell to the bed and Bucky quickly brought the red, irritated skin to his lips, peppering it with kisses. 

All I did was hum and as we laid there, Bucky’s fingers grazed up and down the inside of my thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“I hope you know I’m not finished with you yet,” was all he said before he yanked me off of the bed. 

As we passed by the camcorder, Bucky turned it so it could face out towards the balcony of the hotel room. 

“Bucky!” I nearly screeched when I noticed the somewhat busy street just a few floors beneath us. 

He spun me around so my back was against the railing, the city lights painting us in a luminescent glow, and traced a finger down the front of my lingerie. 

“This is new,” he noted. 

I shivered with not only his touch, but the cool breeze that passed over us. 

“Do-do you like it?” I asked, nervous. 

“I love it so much, doll, that I’m going to fuck you with it on,” Bucky husked before holding out his hand, spitting on it. 

He pumped his already hard cock a few times, dragging the extra skin over the head and let out a spew of curses. Gathering some of my arousal between my legs, he worked me open again with two fingers before replacing them with his cock. The rough metal of the balcony dug into my back as Bucky dragged himself nearly all the way out, slowly fucking me with the head before thrusting all of him inside of me again. It went like this for a few moments, my bottom lip caught between my teeth because the feeling caused my skin to prick. I squeezed against him, swallowing his length in warmth and our hips began to move in sync.

“Shit,” Bucky rasped while leaving dark, bruising teeth marks along my neck and shoulder. “You feel so good, doll.”

His fingers wrapped around my neck while his thumb forced my jaw up towards him. I went to slip a finger between us but Bucky slapped my hand away, a growl of arousal slipped through his lips.

“Mine,” he whispered.

The pad of his thumb pressed against my bundle of nerves and with the fast and relentless pace he had chosen now, I felt the coil deep in my stomach begin to tense, my second orgasm so close.

“Yours,” I breathed. 

Our bodies slammed against each other, skin slapping against skin, and the wet noises that came from the place we were connected were so filthy that I was ready to let my body go, walls tensing around Bucky’s cock. He lifted his forehead from my chest and forced our gazes to lock again, my arm wrapped around his shoulder to bring him closer, thumb rubbing circles on his bicep. His eyes took in every inch of my face, burning with the way I gasped silently when I felt the tip of his cock hit that spot. 

“Bucky,” I pured. “I’m going to-.” 

My orgasm ripped through me, causing the words to falter, and I shook in his tight embrace. The night air did nothing to cool my heated skin. 

Bucky removed his bottom lip from the tight grip between his teeth as he let out a deep but quiet moan as he painted my walls with his cum. Lifting me into his arms, I wrapped my tired legs around him as he carried me back into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed yet again fixing the camera in a different position. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head when he reached for the buttons of my lingerie. 

Bucky kissed a tender kiss on my shoulder. “I know you’ve got one more in you, doll. Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” 

More than anything. 

I was exhausted from my two orgasms, how was he not? Peering down to his cock, I noticed it was nearly hard yet again, the sight of it alone causing my gut to twinge with anticipation and I licked my lips. 

Damn super soldier serum.

“I thought you can't,” Bucky mocked my voice from earlier, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. 

“Shut up!”

The sound of fabric ripping echoed in the room, my lingerie falling away from my body and I screeched while smacking his chest. 

“This was new, asshole!” 

Bucky shrugged, throwing me down to my stomach and lifting my ass in the air to lay a swift smack against it with his vibranium hand. I scrambled to get away from him which prompted him to force the top half of my body against the mattress with one of his hands while the other smacked my ass yet again. 

“Fuck! Bucky!” I bit back the tears as he laid a third smack. “Pl-please.”

“I’ll stop when you apologize for what you called me,” Bucky’s voice was dark, gone with the lust that consumed him. 

For the briefest of moments, part of me feared the monster I had awoken in him but when the pain soon turned to pleaser, I let out a quiet moan afraid he would hear. His large hand rubbed at the red skin before pressing a kiss. 

“Does the pain turn you on, doll? Hm?” Bucky spoke into the skin of my lower back. 

I grasped at the pillow, pulling it close to my chest so I could muffle my answer into it. Which only seemed to displease him because he sunk his teeth into the extra flesh of my hip, making me cry out my answer. 

“Yes! I need it to hurt!”

Wrapping an arm around my stomach, Bucky lifted me up onto my knees and to face the large mirror in the room that was hung across the bed, right next to the camera; still blinking red. I gasped at my reflection of tattered pieces of lingerie hanging on to me still by a thread, mascara running down my face, purple bite marks littered all over my neck and shoulder, and lips faintly bruised from how hard Bucky fucked my throat earlier. 

He knelt behind me and brushed his nose along the shell of my ear while trailing the pad of his thumb over the pulse point of my throat. 

“You look so pretty like this, doll. Marked up as mine so everyone knows who you belong to,” he dragged his teeth along the crook of my neck, breathing me in. 

“God, I fucking love the way you smell.”

His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples, making my head falter back onto his shoulder.

“What do you want, baby?” Bucky palmed both of my breasts now before trailing a hand down my stomach to spread my legs wide for the reflection and mostly the camera. 

“You,” I breathed. 

Bucky said nothing, instead he slipped two fingers past my slick folds where the head of his cock was slowly gliding up and down. Gathering up not only my arousal but the little bit of precum that beaded at the slit, he brought those fingers to my lips with one simple order. 

“Lick.”

I took both vibranium fingers into my mouth without objection to lap up the tangy mixture of us and hummed greedily. I took them as far as I could without gagging and Bucky showed me how proud he was of me by sinking himself deep inside my pussy. His strokes this time were languid, taking his time with me as he worked me up with his fingers down my throat and the others spreading me wide. 

“That’s it. Take all of me. I can feel your pussy clenching around me, you’re so wet,” Bucky’s pace began to intensify as his words were urging him on. 

One hand wrapped around my throat while the other strumbed against my swollen nub, bringing me closer and close to the edge of destruction. 

My own words were gone, forever lost in the bliss that overtook my body. My soul succumbed to Bucky, allowing him to drag every part of my essence down with him to the darkness. This was a side of Bucky I’d never expected to see and now that I had a taste of him, I wasn’t letting him go. 

“I love you,” I moaned as I allowed the waves of pleasure to drown me as I soaked Bucky’s cock with my orgasm. 

He stilled his movements and sucked in a breath before forcing my face to look into our reflection of the mirror. 

“What did you just say?” 

I blinked a few times, trying to regain myself after the intensity of each after shock, and when Bucky’s grip on my chin tightened, I winced. 

Oh shit. 

I had just blurted out that I loved Bucky.

For the first time. 

Shit. Fuck. God damn it. 

We’d only been dating for a few months and I was suddenly very afraid of how Bucky would react. It was clearly way too soon to be dropping the I love you bomb. 

“Doll,” Bucky’s voice was firm as he shook my face. 

Staring at his reflection, I let the words fall from my lips again. 

“I love you.”

The hard lines on his face softened as he let the proclamation settle for a few quiet beats and just before I could find myself questioning everything, Bucky let out a guttural groan, wrapping an arm around my stomach to pull my back closer to his chest. We were pulled flush against each other as now Bucky used the new angle to buck up into me, hitting the spot each and every time. 

My body was drained and I could barely keep myself afloat in his embrace as the bed shook beneath us, creaking with every snap of his hips. Skin on skin bounced off the walls, overpowering the sounds of my quiet cries, and Bucky bit down hard on my shoulder. 

“Fuck, doll. I love you too, so fucking much. You’re mine, you hear me? Your heart, your soul, this fucking pussy? All mine,” he snarled as he filled my cunt. 

“Ah! Shit!” I cried out louder this time when I felt the teeniest prick of blood from Bucky’s bite into my neck trail down between my breasts. 

We both fell onto the bed, a heap of sweat and cum, and Bucky immediately wrapped me in his arms. He continued to proclaim his love for me while dragging those vibranium fingers up and down my spine, lulling me to sleep; all while the red light from the camera continued to blink. 

[mcrdvcks]

i just need this love spiral

summary: Logan just wants one night alone with you.

word count: 1.5k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: here was the request that inspired this!

this is set in the same world as Deck The Halls, but you don't have to read that to understand this!

(also this may be my shortest oneshot ever!?)

warnings/tags: reader and logan have a bio kid, laura, fluff, mention of drinking wine, implied sex

Mornings were always Logan’s favorite part of the day—a close second was nighttime. In the mornings there was usually nothing to worry about, he could hold you for as long as he’d like with no interruptions.

Until Laura came along. Then Sierra. Then Rocky, your rescue pit bull.

And now, mornings usually meant a cramped bed, Rocky taking up the bottom half, curled up by Laura, and Sierra curled up between you and Logan.

Logan let out a slow exhale, staring at the ceiling. His arm was pinned under Sierra’s small body, her head tucked into your shoulder. Laura was sprawled out, one foot kicking into his ribs. And Rocky—damn dog—had taken up the whole bottom half of the bed, his body curled up against Laura’s legs.

This wasn’t what he had in mind when he woke up.

He turned his head slightly, watching you sleep. Peaceful. Comfortable. Completely unaware of the fact that he was being physically restrained by your children and a dog. His wife was right there, within arm’s reach, and yet completely inaccessible.

He sighed again, quieter this time.

Then Sierra shifted, rolling toward him in her sleep, and smacked him in the face with her tiny hand.

Logan groaned, running a hand down his face. That was it. Enough was enough.

He carefully peeled Sierra off his arm, settling her between you and Laura. She didn’t even stir. Then he scooted down, maneuvering around Rocky’s dead weight and slipping out of bed as quietly as possible.

You mumbled something in your sleep but didn’t wake. He reached over, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face.

Then, before you could stop him, he hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you out of bed.

"Logan," you yelped, barely catching yourself as he dragged you toward the door. "What are you—"

"Shh," he muttered, leading you out of the room and shutting the door behind him. "You’re mine for five minutes. That’s all I’m askin’."

You blinked at him, still groggy. "What?"

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, pulling you toward the couch. "Five minutes. Just me and you. No kids, no dog, no elbows in my ribs."

You let him drag you along, still trying to wake up. "You’re that desperate?"

"Yeah," he admitted without shame, settling onto the couch and pulling you onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close like he’d been deprived for days instead of just a few hours.

You sighed, resting your forehead against his. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe." His hands ran slowly up and down your back, warm and steady. "Ain't like I don’t love ‘em. But I’d like to wake up next to my wife at least once in a while, not buried under a pile of kids and a damn dog."

You snorted. "You’re the one who said Rocky could sleep in the bed when it storms."

"Didn’t mean every night," he grumbled, nuzzling into your neck. "And Sierra—she’s got her own bed, but no, she’s gotta be right in the middle. Laura’s got a whole room, but she still sneaks in."

"They love you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered, but you could hear the affection in his voice. He exhaled slowly, his grip tightening just a little. "Just wanted a minute with you."

You softened at that, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "You could’ve just woken me up earlier."

"Tried. You looked too peaceful," he admitted. "Didn’t have the heart to move you ‘til I got smacked in the face."

You grinned. "Sierra?"

"Who else?"

You laughed quietly, fingers brushing through his hair. "She’s got good aim."

"Real funny," he deadpanned, but his hold on you stayed firm, like he was soaking up every second.

You hummed, leaning into him. "Guess we’ll have to start locking the door, huh?"

"Already thought about it," he said. "If I don't, I'm never gettin’ you to myself again."

You smirked. "So dramatic."

"Call it whatever you want." He pressed a kiss to your temple, voice low. "You're mine first, remember that."

"Yeah?" You tilted your head, lips just brushing his. "You sure about that? Because I think Sierra might have something to say about it."

Logan groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch. "Gonna start fightin’ a five-year-old for my own wife. This is my life now."

You grinned. "Yep."

His hands slid lower, gripping your hips. "Lock the door tonight."

You bit back a laugh. "We’ll see."

---

Though Logan couldn’t technically get drunk, let alone tipsy, your alcohol tolerance was much lower now that you had Sierra. Which meant that after a small glass of wine you felt like you were on the moon.

Logan locked the bedroom door with a quiet click, turning back to you with a smirk. "Not takin' any chances tonight."

You laughed, a little loopy from the wine as you flopped onto the bed. "How responsible of you."

He climbed in after you, hands already finding your waist as he pulled you close. "Not responsible—just tired of gettin’ cockblocked by my own kids."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You are dramatic."

He hummed, nuzzling into your neck. "Maybe. But I finally got you all to myself."

His lips brushed against your skin, slow and teasing, his hands sliding up your back. You sighed, relaxing into him, fingertips trailing through his hair.

"Y'know," you murmured, tilting your head to give him better access, "I think the wine's making me very agreeable."

Logan chuckled against your throat, his breath warm. "Yeah? That so?"

"Mhm." You grinned, pulling back just enough to look at him. "You should take advantage of that."

His grip tightened on your hips. "Oh, I plan to."

Logan kissed you, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. His hands slid under your shirt, fingertips trailing warm patterns against your skin. You sighed against his lips, pressing closer, feeling the familiar heat coil between you.

Then—

Click.

The unmistakable sound of the door unlocking.

Logan froze. So did you.

Before either of you could react, the door creaked open, and small footsteps padded into the room.

"Mommy? Daddy?" Sierra’s sleepy voice cut through the darkness.

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder. You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. His grip on you loosened just enough for you to shift, tilting your head toward the door.

"Sierra, honey, what’s wrong?"

"Rocky took my blanket," she mumbled.

From the doorway, Rocky let out a soft huff, the kind of noise that said he wasn’t giving it back anytime soon.

Logan groaned quietly, rolling onto his back. "I locked that damn door."

"She’s five," you whispered, amused. "Locks mean nothing to her."

Sierra took a few steps closer, rubbing her eyes. "Can I sleep with you?"

You started to sit up, but Logan caught your wrist. "Nope. No way. Not tonight," he muttered under his breath, then turned his head toward Sierra. "You got your own bed, kid. Go back to it."

She pouted. "But Rocky—"

"—is a thief, I know," Logan grumbled. "Go grab another blanket."

Sierra huffed, clearly unimpressed with the suggestion. "But—"

"Laura," Logan called, already knowing his other kid was lurking.

A beat of silence, then—

"How’d you know?" Laura’s voice piped up from the hall.

Logan scrubbed a hand down his face. "Because I ain’t stupid."

Laura stepped into view, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face. "We were gonna see if we could sneak in without you noticing."

"Yeah, well, noticed," Logan muttered. "Not happening tonight."

Sierra’s bottom lip wobbled. "But—"

"Nope," Logan cut her off. "Go on. Back to bed, both of you."

Laura didn’t argue, but Sierra whined, "Daddy—"

Logan sighed, sitting up. "Sierra, sweetheart, I love ya, but me and your mom need some time alone."

You pressed your lips together to stifle a laugh. Wrong choice of words.

Laura snorted. "Gross."

Sierra frowned, still half-asleep. "Why?"

Logan sighed again, dragging a hand through his hair. "Because I said so."

Sierra huffed dramatically, turning on her heel. "Fine."

Laura grabbed her hand, leading her away. "Come on, before they start kissing again."

Sierra made a gagging noise, and just like that, the two of them were gone, the door closing behind them.

Logan leaned back against the pillows, eyes closed. "I’m puttin’ a deadbolt on that damn door."

You laughed, rolling onto your side to face him. "You’re really struggling, huh?"

"You have no idea," he muttered, tugging you back into his arms. His grip was firm, like he was making up for lost time. "Now, where were we?"

You smirked, brushing your lips against his. "I think Rocky was about to steal another blanket."

Logan groaned. "That dog’s lucky I love him."

"Yeah, yeah," you teased, threading your fingers through his hair. "Now, are you gonna keep talking, or…?"

He didn’t need to be told twice.

[if-loves]

goodbye, my king 

// Mydei

sum: you knew this day was coming, that your time with him was ticking; but you'll always wish you could've had him for a little longer.

wc: 991

warnings: 3.1 story quest spoilers, ooc mydei, written before mydei release

a/n: ok maybe i did have stay a little longer and die with a smile playing when i wrote this

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

You had a dream once, a long time ago, around the time you and Mydei had first unofficially gotten together. Most of your memory of it has been eroded by time, but you remembered one part of it quite vividly. Mydei had left, and he was never coming back.

The days following it were plagued with a relentless anxiety that took hold of your fragile state of mind, waiting anxiously for his return from his latest battle. You know death evades him now and forever, but you also knew that if death could not take him away, then he'd be the one to do it himself.

However, even before this dreaded dream, you felt as if you already knew deep down that he was going to leave you one day, even before you would die. You knew the weight of the crown that yearns to rest on his head and the burden he carries for being unable to lead his people home, and that one day he'd finally allow himself to bear its weight atop his head. You just didn't expect it to be today.

On your way back from grocery shopping at Marmoreal Market, you had overhead some gossip that started floating around. 

“I heard Mydei will be leaving Okhema.”

“Leaving? As in, permanently?”

“That's what the rumours say, that he is bidding farewell to all those dear to him.”

It had frozen you in your steps, the crowd fading into nothing but muted sounds. You could see your hands starting to shake, and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning. Your vision had started to blur, the telltale sign of tears blurring your line of sight. With your head down and anxiety clawing up your throat, you make it home and break down into silent sobs the moment the door closes.

~~

Mydei had thought long and hard about this decision of his. He could accept leaving behind most, in the name of reclaiming his home and protecting what remains of his people and the Okhemans, but if he had one regret that truly gnawed at his immortal existence, it would be leaving you behind. You, who loved him sincerely, with every beat of your mortal heart, who always waited for his return regardless of how much time had passed, who always cleaned his wounds gently even if he insisted that it was of no use. You, who did it because you loved and cared for him. And now, he has to leave you too.

The walk to your house is agonising. He finds himself taking his time, taking in the sights of Marmoreal Market, the eternal sunlight and the bustling crowd one last time. He thinks he can take the silence in Castrum Kremnos, but he doesn't know if he can take the lack of you. 

Mydei stands in front of your door, hesitant. He wants to, he has to, knock on the door. He needs to see you one last time, to feel your lips on his again, to say goodbye even as it devastates both you and him. Because you deserve at least that much.

He raises his hand, and finally knocks. You don't answer, but he opens the door anyway. He knows your schedule like the back of his hand, and he knows you're home right now. He's proven right when he sees you standing in your kitchen, your back towards him as your arms rest on the counter. You don't turn to face him, and it hurts. He deserves it.

“(Y/n),” your name leaves his lips in a sound that's all too pleasing to your ears, but you resist the desire to turn around, to see him standing in front of you. 

“Mydei.” His name leaves your lips, and he wishes that he wasn't going to do this. 

Silence settles over, Mydei not daring to push you and you not daring to face him. 

“...It's true, then? That you're leaving forever?” You force yourself to speak, desperately holding back the sobs that threaten to shatter your voice. 

“Yes, that's why I've come to see you, one last time.” He is straightforward with his answer, because he knows that time is not and never on his side. He wants you to turn around, even if your face is stained by tears.

He takes a tentative step forward, unbecoming of a king like him. Gently, he takes you in his arms again, in a silent apology. You finally let your tears go, turning around to bury yourself in his chest, your tears running down your cheeks only to land on him. 

You don't know how long you've stayed there, crying like a child in the arms of your lover. When your sobs finally calm down into hiccups do you speak.

“Stay a little longer, please?” You plead in your broken voice, your watery eyes meeting his. “Please, just until I fall asleep.” 

Mydei has never been one to deny your requests, and he doesn't plan to start. He leads you to your room and settles on your bed, pulling you on top of him and holding you with a tenderness only you have had the privilege of seeing. 

Even as your tears continuously fall, he doesn't say anything. All he does, and all he can do, is to just hold you one last time. 

“Goodbye, my king.” You murmur, before he hears your breathing even. He waits a few moments before he manoeuvres himself out of the bed, taking great care to not wake you. He pulls the blanket over you and looks at you, trying to carve your every feature into his head. You'll always be beautiful to him, your visage forever home in him. He kneels by your side one last time, and lays a gentle kiss on your lips, savouring the feeling.

When Mydei steps out of your house and finally starts his path back home, he allows a tear to fall. 

[shyoko]

They are caught in an intimate moment. ☆

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.) 

 Requests are: open

I want to thank you all for all the support you’re giving to the reactions ♡♡♡

☆Also, I wanted to let you know how I’ll be organizing the posts. I’ll be uploading a chapter every other day. Before each post, I’ll create a poll with four story options, and you’ll vote for the one you want me to upload. The next day, I’ll publish the winning story and repeat the process in the same way.☆

☆ Contains adult content. !!

Heeseung☆

You never imagined that baking cookies could turn into such a heated make-out session.

Maybe it was the long wait while the oven did its job, or perhaps it was Heeseung’s lingering touches on your skin—light, teasing, yet electrifying. Whatever the reason, the result was undeniable: you were trapped in his arms, your back pressed against the cool kitchen counter as his lips moved hungrily against yours.

Heeseung lifted you effortlessly, settling you onto the counter as his hands wandered freely over your body. A shaky breath escaped your lips when his fingers found the hem of your shirt, and in the blink of an eye, it was discarded onto the floor. His mouth trailed eagerly down your skin, leaving a burning path in its wake.

But the moment shattered in an instant.

—Oh, for God’s sake! Really? Is there nowhere else in this house?! —Jay’s exasperated voice cut through the air, freezing you in place.

Heeseung tensed immediately, his wide eyes locking onto yours in a mix of shock and panic. In a clumsy rush, he grabbed your shirt and helped you cover yourself, his voice caught between an apology and a weak defense.

—How was I supposed to know you were here?

Jay let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing his arms with pure frustration while you struggled to catch your breath and regain your composure.

Damn cookies.

Jay☆

You had decided to stop by the studio to visit the guys, and there you found Jay completely immersed in his guitar practice, rehearsing for his upcoming covers.

You knocked softly on the door, and after a few seconds, a visibly exhausted Jay opened it. His tired eyes and slightly tousled hair only made him look even more attractive.

—Did you not sleep well? —you asked with a hint of concern.

Jay gave you a small, lazy smile, his deep, husky voice filling the space between you.

—Not really… Think you could help wake me up a little? —his tone was sweet, but there was something undeniably mischievous in his gaze.

And just like that, within minutes, you were straddling his lap, feeling him buried deep inside you. According to him, this helped him relax and focus better—but the truth was, every time he shifted, whether to adjust his position or reach for something on the table, the friction sent waves of pleasure through your body, making it harder and harder to stay still.

The heat pooling inside you became unbearable, and after minutes of this slow, torturous game, you couldn’t take it anymore.

—Jay… stop moving, or I swear I’ll start bouncing on you —you warned, your voice shaky with frustration and desire.

He let out a low chuckle, his fingers tightening around your waist.

—Oh, sweetheart… don’t even try. I need to concentrate.

But if he wanted to play, so would you.

Without hesitation, you began moving against him, challenging him. His breathing turned ragged almost instantly, and though he tried to hold you still, the pleasure was too much—forcing small, breathy moans past his lips, mixing with your own.

Everything was going perfectly… until it all went to hell.

—Hey, Jay, could you help me wi—…?

Jungwon’s voice cut off abruptly. His eyes widened in shock, his entire body freezing at the sight in front of him.

You went completely still, your heart hammering in your chest as Jay tensed beneath you. The silence that followed was so thick it was suffocating.

Jay was the first to react, his voice coming out harsher than he intended.

—Jungwon… get out. Now.

The younger boy blinked rapidly, clearly in disbelief, before turning on his heel and stumbling out of the room as fast as he could.

Jay let out a long, frustrated sigh before lifting you off him effortlessly and settling you onto his chair. Leaning in close, his lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping to a dangerously low whisper.

—I'll deal with you later… Don’t think for a second that I’ll forget how naughty you’ve been.

And with that, he walked out after Jungwon, as if nothing had happened.

But you both knew this wasn’t over.

Jake☆

What started as a quiet movie night ended with Jake pressing you down onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours as his hands slowly explored every curve of your back.

—Are you going to be good for me, baby? —he whispered against your ear, his deep voice vibrating through your skin—. Are you going to let me make you mine?

His lips trailed down your bare back, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses as his hands settled firmly on your waist. His touch was slow but sure, and just as he finally filled you completely, the sudden sound of a phone ringing shattered the atmosphere.

Jake let his head fall against your shoulder, letting out a low groan of frustration before reaching for the device. Without pulling away from you, he quickly silenced the call and tossed the phone onto the mattress.

—They couldn’t have picked a worse time… —he muttered with a smirk before refocusing on you.

He pulled you closer, pressing your back against his chest as he resumed his movements. His lips found your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

But then the phone rang again.

Jake tensed for a moment before letting out an annoyed sigh.

��Give me a second… —he murmured irritably.

Still holding onto you, he grabbed the phone and accepted the call. Before speaking, he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered in a teasing tone:

—Be quiet for me, okay, pretty girl?

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to suppress any sound.

—Ni-ki? —he answered, his voice still rough.

He tried to focus on the conversation, but right then, his hips moved involuntarily, and the pleasure that coursed through your body was too much to suppress. A muffled moan escaped your lips before you could stop it, forcing you to slap a hand over your mouth.

Too late.

—What the fuck, Jake?! —Niki’s voice rang out, clearly horrified—. Don’t tell me you’re fucking your girlfriend while talking to me! That’s fucking disgusting, dude!

Jake let out a deep chuckle, still holding you firmly against him.

—I'll call you later —he said casually, hanging up without a second thought.

He tossed the phone aside, his hands immediately returning to you, roaming your body possessively before leaning down to kiss your neck again.

—Now… where were we?

The suggestive tone in his voice and the way his fingers tightened around you made it clear—he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

Sunghoon☆

You had made plans to have lunch with Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay at a restaurant near the company after they finished their rehearsal. Everything seemed normal as you walked to the place, joking and chatting about random things.

Once seated, each of you ordered your food, and the conversation flowed naturally while you waited. But then, out of nowhere, you felt a warm hand rest on your knee.

Your body tensed immediately. You turned your head toward Sunghoon, giving him a warning look, but he remained as nonchalant as ever, carrying on with the conversation as if nothing was happening. His fingers started moving slowly, tracing light circles on your skin.

You tried to ignore him, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation, but the heat from his palm was impossible to disregard. And just when you thought he might stop, his hand began creeping higher, sliding up your thigh at an agonizingly slow pace.

A shiver ran down your spine. Your breathing grew heavier as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, so dangerously close to your underwear that every little touch made you hold your breath.

Discreetly, you caught his wrist in an attempt to stop him, but Sunghoon only pressed further, his fingers slipping between your legs with excruciating slowness.

The first direct touch had you biting your lips to keep quiet.

His caresses were soft but torturous, teasing you mercilessly as you struggled to keep a straight face in front of the others.

Just then, the food arrived. You sighed in relief, thinking that he would finally stop, but you were wrong. His hand didn’t move away—if anything, his touch became even more persistent.

You felt his fingers toying with the thin fabric of your underwear before effortlessly slipping beneath it.

Your back arched slightly, and on instinct, you gripped his wrist more firmly, silently begging him to stop. But Sunghoon only smirked in satisfaction, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to him without anyone noticing.

Small, restrained gasps caught in your throat, and when your thighs tried to clamp shut, he simply nudged them apart again, his fingers growing bolder in their exploration.

And then, out of nowhere, a sudden jolt brought everything to a halt.

Sunghoon stiffened instantly, pulling his hand away in an instant. He frowned and looked up to see who had interrupted him.

Jake.

The blond was staring at him, his expression neutral, but his slightly furrowed brows made his disapproval clear. Sunghoon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, cleared his throat, and without saying a word, picked up his chopsticks and started eating as if nothing had happened.

You did the same, though your heart was still pounding, and the heat in your cheeks was impossible to hide.

Jay, completely oblivious to the situation, narrowed his eyes at the two of you.

—What the hell is up with you two? —he asked suspiciously.

No one answered. Sunghoon focused on his food, you avoided eye contact, and Jake smirked slightly, clearly satisfied with his intervention.

Jay let out a sigh, still confused.

Sunoo☆

For Sunoo, getting caught in the act was all part of the plan.

He had spent weeks listening to the guys tease him about how sweet and innocent he was, how unlikely it was for him to be with a girl. At first, he laughed it off, but over time, it started to wear on him. Did they really think he wasn’t capable of making someone feel good?

It was time to prove them wrong. And who better to help him do that than you—his best friend?

No words were needed. Just a single moment of tension, a look filled with intent, and the briefest touch before his lips crashed onto yours in a hungry, heated kiss—like you had both been waiting for this moment all along.

Before you could even process it, you were lying on the couch in the living room, Sunoo hovering over you, his body pressing against yours with the perfect mix of softness and urgency. He knew the guys would be back any minute, but rather than worry, the thought only seemed to excite him more.

His lips trailed down to your neck, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses as his hands roamed freely.

—God… you’re so perfect —he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

One of his hands slid up to cup your breast gently, while the other trailed lower, fingertips tracing along your stomach before slipping between your thighs. With practiced ease, he found the hem of your underwear and, without breaking his rhythm, slid it down your legs before stuffing it into the pocket of his pants with a smug smile.

The first touch of his fingers against your bare skin made you arch your back. He moved with such confidence, such precision, that you couldn’t hold back a breathy sigh. Sunoo seemed to revel in your every reaction, his lips grazing your skin, leaving faint marks as he went.

And just as the tension reached its peak…

The door swung open.

The sudden sound snapped both of you out of the moment. Your heads turned simultaneously toward the entrance, where the guys stood frozen in place, eyes wide with shock, their faces a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

The room fell into complete silence.

But Sunoo didn’t even flinch.

With the utmost composure, he stood up without letting go of you and effortlessly scooped you into his arms. Turning to the stunned group, he flashed a radiant smile, clearly enjoying the effect his little stunt had caused.

—Oh wow, guys… didn’t expect you back so soon —he said, his tone laced with amusement—. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to lock the door this time.

He shot them a playful wink before chuckling softly and carrying you off to his room, leaving them standing in stunned silence in the middle of the living room.

Mission accomplished.

Jungwon☆

The boys were just about to go on stage, each of them finishing up their preparations before the big moment. The backstage was pure chaos—stylists rushing back and forth, crew members making last-minute adjustments, and the deafening sound of the audience filling the air.

Amidst all the commotion, Jungwon suddenly appeared out of nowhere, grabbing your wrist and quickly pulling you into the dressing room. The door clicked shut behind him, and before you could even ask what was going on, his body was already pressing yours against the wall.

—Baby, I need you… —his voice was low and breathless, his eyes burning with desire.

You looked at him in confusion until your gaze dropped down—and suddenly, you understood.

—Wonnie… you have to be on stage in seven minutes —you whispered, trying to ignore the sudden heat pooling in your stomach.

He gave you a half-smirk, his fingers trailing softly down your waist.

—That’s exactly how long I need for you to help me with this —he murmured, leaning in just enough for his lips to brush against yours.

A shiver ran down your spine. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this here—not with so many people outside, not with so little time—but the way his body reacted to yours, the desperation in his eyes, the slight tremble in his breath… you couldn’t resist.

You dropped to your knees, your pulse pounding in your ears as your fingers worked quickly to undo his belt. Jungwon let out a shaky sigh as your hands wrapped around him, his body tensing at the first touch.

His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements with barely restrained need.

—God… just like that… —he groaned softly, biting his lip to keep quiet.

His grip tightened slightly, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Every sound that slipped past his lips sent waves of heat through your body, making you revel in the way he melted under your touch.

But then, the door suddenly swung open, shattering the moment.

—What the hell is going on here?!

Sunghoon’s firm, exasperated voice made you freeze instantly. Jungwon let out a frustrated grunt and quickly pulled away, fumbling to fix his clothes.

Sunghoon stared at the two of you, a mix of disbelief and irritation on his face.

—We’re about to go on stage, get dressed already, idiot —he huffed, crossing his arms.

Jungwon let out a heavy sigh, still trying to steady his breathing. Before leaving, he leaned in close to you, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured with a playful pout:

—Promise me you’ll take care of me later… I want more.

And with one last look filled with silent promises, he followed Sunghoon out, leaving you standing there, heart racing and body still burning, knowing this wasn’t over.

Ni-ki☆

It seemed like Jake had only one mission: to make Niki jealous by shamelessly flirting with you.

He spent the entire afternoon showering you with sweet compliments, winking at you, and cracking jokes that made you laugh—all while Niki watched from a distance, his frown deepening and his jaw tightening more and more.

At first, he tried to ignore it. But when he saw Jake leaning in too close, his arm brushing against yours with far too much confidence, his patience finally snapped.

Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

—Why the hell are you letting Jake flirt with you like that?! —he blurted out, his voice filled with frustration.

—Niki, oh my God, it’s not even tha—

Your words never made it out. Before you could finish, his lips crashed onto yours with overwhelming urgency.

This wasn’t a soft, playful kiss like usual. It was hungry, possessive, as if he needed to make it clear once and for all that you were his.

His hands roamed your body with desperation, gripping your waist before sliding down to squeeze your hips, pulling you even closer against him. You let out a quiet gasp against his lips, which only seemed to ignite him further.

—Tell me I’m the only one for you —he murmured breathlessly, his warm breath fanning against your lips.

His hand slipped under your shirt, trailing up your skin until it reached your chest, his grip firm yet teasing.

—Of course, you’re the only one for me, Niki —you whispered without hesitation.

The kiss deepened instantly, growing more desperate, more consuming… until the door swung open.

—Oh, for God’s sake —Sunoo’s voice broke the moment—. I came to check if you were okay after Jake’s little joke, but I see you’re being very well taken care of… so I’ll just leave.

He rolled his eyes with an amused chuckle before shutting the door behind him, leaving both of you breathless and flushed.

Niki let out a frustrated sigh, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

—Great… exactly what I needed.

But when he looked back at you, his eyes told a different story.

This wasn’t over.

[s4svnn]

Shower

Your stubbornness is part of what brought you together—it’s a fire that keeps things passionate and exciting. But at times, it can also be exhausting, especially when neither of you is willing to admit fault because of your pride. Arguments can escalate quickly, with both of you refusing to back down each determined to prove a point, so when things heat up maybe the best way to cool off is together…in the shower.

Pairing: F1 racer Jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut (18+)

Warnings/content tags: couples argument, egos, stubbornness, slapping, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation kink, possessiveness, hair pulling, boob play, fingering, mirror sex, back shots, orgasm denial, sub + dom dynamic, spanking.

Word count: 5k

The door slammed shut behind us with a force that rattled the walls, the echo reverberating through the tense silence. My heart pounded against my ribs, my breaths coming in uneven gasps still heated from the argument that had started long before we even reached his house.

The air between us was thick with unspoken words, the weight of frustration pressing down on my chest. The dim glow from the entryway lights cast jagged shadows across Jungkook’s sharp features, emphasizing the tight clench of his jaw and the flicker of something dark in his eyes. His fists were curled at his sides, his posture rigid, as his entire body radiated barely restrained frustration.

"He likes you. I can tell."

I spun around so fast my hair whipped over my shoulder, my blood boiling at the audacity of his words. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I glared at him.

"No, he doesn’t! We’re just friends!"

Jungkook exhaled sharply, the sound more of a scoff than a sigh, his lips twitching in something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t entirely devoid of amusement either. His head tilted slightly, the way it always did when he didn’t believe a single word coming out of my mouth, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as if he was holding back the urge to laugh at my denial.

"You really believe that?" he asked, his voice slow and skeptical, every syllable laced with quiet challenge.

I folded my arms across my chest, planting my feet firmly against the floor as I met his gaze with unwavering defiance, refusing to let him intimidate me. "Yes, because it’s the truth," I said, my voice steadier now.

Jungkook took a step forward, closing the distance between us just slightly, but enough for the air to shift, enough for the space between us to feel too small, too charged. The weight of his presence was suffocating, the intensity in his gaze making my pulse pound harder, though I refused to let him see the effect he had on me.

"People don’t look at their friends like that, Aylah," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, almost like a warning. "He looks at you like he wants to eat you alive."

A sharp, incredulous laugh burst from my lips, my head shaking as I fought the urge to scream at how ridiculous this entire conversation was. "I told you, he doesn’t like me!" I repeated, my voice rising in frustration. "And even if he did, I don’t like him!"

That should have been the end of it. That should have been enough. But of course, with Jungkook it never was, he just had to get the last word.

Before I could take a step back and create even an inch of space between us, he moved faster, quicker than I could react. His arms came up in an instant, trapping me between them, his hands pressing against the couch behind me as my back met the soft fabric. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse spiking as my body suddenly became hyperaware of the heat radiating from him.

"You sure about that?" he murmured, his voice quieter now, softer, but somehow even more dangerous than before. His eyes flickered over my face, searching, watching, waiting for something—an answer, a reaction, a crack in my defense. "I see the way you smile at him."

I scoffed, forcing myself to hold his gaze even though my heart was hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "What, so I can’t smile at people now?" I shot back, my voice sharp, desperate to shift the focus away from the way his words made my stomach twist.

Jungkook exhaled, the sound rough, like he was trying to push down something simmering just beneath the surface. "That’s not what I’m saying," he muttered, his jaw clenching. "It’s just… I don’t trust that guy."

"Wow," I said, my voice dripping with disbelief. "So you don’t trust him, but you trusted Jade?"

His entire body went still. His grip on the couch tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed my words, as they settled into the space between us like a ticking time bomb.

"What did you just say?" His voice was colder now—but I didn’t care.

I held my ground, refusing to flinch under the weight of his stare. "You trusted a bitch like Jade," I said, voice steady, unwavering, my eyes locked onto his. "But you draw the line at my harmless secretary?"

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence, suffocating and heavy.

Then, Jungkook let out a dark, humorless laugh, one that sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t amused. It wasn’t light. It was empty, hollow, laced with something almost cruel.

"Like you’re any better," he muttered, his voice laced with venom. His gaze flickered with something dangerous. "You were friends with the guy that tried to kill me."

The words barely registered before my hand moved on its own. The slap echoed through the room, the sharp crack of skin against skin cutting through the heavy silence like a gunshot. Jungkook’s head snapped to the side from the force, his cheek instantly reddening where my palm had struck. My chest heaved, shock rushing through me, overtaking the anger in an instant.

My lips parted, my voice barely above a whisper. "S-Shit, Jungkook, I didn’t mean to—"

Slowly, he turns his head back to face me, his gaze dark and unreadable. The tension in the air thickened as the sound of my pulse hammered in my ears.

Before I could fully register what was happening, his fingers tightened around my wrist, his grip firm and unrelenting as he pulled me forward. A startled gasp slipped past my lips, my feet barely keeping up as he led me up the stairs with a determination that left no room for hesitation. 

A strange mix of nervousness and excitement twisted in my stomach, making it impossible to tell whether I wanted to pull away or let myself be dragged deeper into whatever this was turning into. The hallway blurred around us, my focus narrowing to the burn of his fingers against my skin and the charged energy radiating off him in waves.

The moment we reached his room, he didn’t stop. With a swift motion, he shoved open the bathroom door and pulled me inside, the sharp sound of the lock clicking into place sending a shiver down my spine. Finally, his grip loosened, my wrist slipping from his grasp. I barely had time to catch my breath, to make sense of the storm raging inside me, before my eyes widened at his next move.

Jungkook reached for the hem of his shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. My breath hitched as the dim bathroom light cast shadows across his toned chest, the slow rise and fall of his breathing making the tension between us all the more unbearable. He took a deliberate step forward, his gaze locked onto mine, dark and unreadable.

"You wanna fight?" he murmured, his voice low.

I swallowed hard, but he didn’t give me time to answer.

He took another step forward, and suddenly there was nowhere left to go, my back meeting the cool tile wall as his presence surrounded me once more. His eyes flickered over my face, watching, waiting.

"Then let’s fight."

“W-what?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers curled around the bottom of my shirt, the warmth of his touch burning through the fabric as he slowly, deliberately bunched it up between his fingers. The space between us was nonexistent, the heat radiating off him swallowing me whole, leaving me breathless as if I was trapped in the storm of his presence.

He leaned in, so close that I felt the ghost of his breath against my skin, the scent of him familiar and intoxicating as it pulled me under. His lips hovered just beside my ear, his voice low.

"Show me just how much you hate me."

His fingers loosened their grip on my shirt, releasing the fabric like he was giving me a choice, like he was daring me to move, to say something to stop him. But I couldn’t. My breath was trapped in my throat, my body rooted to the spot as I watched him.

Without breaking eye contact, Jungkook reached for the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button with slow but steady movements, testing my reaction. The fabric slid down his legs, pooling at his feet before he stepped out of them, his confidence unshaken. Then, without hesitation, he removed the last barrier between him and the heat of the shower, leaving nothing between us but the charged energy hanging heavy in the air.

I stood frozen, my mind scrambling to catch up with what was happening, with what he was doing—what he was trying to prove. My mouth parted slightly, but no words came out.

Jungkook didn’t smirk this time, didn’t taunt me like I expected him to. Instead, he turned, stepping into the glass-enclosed shower without another word. The sound of the water turning on filled the space, the steam curling around him as hot droplets cascaded down his skin. And still, I stood there, unmoving, pulse hammering, thoughts spinning in every direction. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

My breath came in shallow bursts as my fingers curled around the door handle. My first instinct was to leave, to put as much space between us as possible before this fight spiraled into something I couldn’t control. But my grip hesitated, knuckles turning white as I stood frozen in place.

If I left now, nothing would be resolved. We’d still be angry, still be drowning in the same unresolved tension that had been building for too long. But if I stayed… I was throwing myself right into the fire, into whatever storm was waiting for me on the other side of that glass door.

My chest rose and fell unsteadily as I slowly pressed down on the handle, feeling the slight give beneath my palm. I could still walk away. I could leave before this went too far. But then my gaze flickered back. The steam clung to the glass, blurring the outline of Jungkook’s figure behind the shower door. Water streamed down his body in rivulets, his movements controlled, as if he was waiting—no expecting me to make a choice.

I swallowed hard, heart pounding in my chest. And then, without fully understanding why, I released the handle. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the hem of my shirt, dragging it over my head before letting it fall to the floor. One by one, each article of clothing followed until the cool air met my bare skin, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the temperature.

I took a slow step forward, my pulse roaring in my ears. Then another. My fingers brushed against the glass as I reached for the shower door, my breath catching as I pulled it open. There was no turning back now.

The rush of steam hit me first, wrapping around my skin like a second layer, thick and heavy. Water cascaded down Jungkook’s back, droplets tracing over every muscle, his posture relaxed yet tense in a way that made my stomach twist. He didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge my presence at first, as if waiting to see if I’d hesitate again.

But I didn’t. I stepped inside, my bare feet meeting the slick tiles as the heat of the water seeped into my skin. My pulse hammered in my ears, a steady rhythm that refused to slow no matter how deep of a breath I took.

Then Jungkook finally moved. His head tilted slightly, just enough for me to see the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his wet hair clung to his forehead. When he finally turned to face me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Neither of us spoke. Droplets of water rolled down his face, clinging to his lips, his chest rising and falling steadily despite the storm raging between us.

Then, slowly, he took a step forward. Before I could react, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist, and in one swift motion, he yanked me forward. A startled gasp left my lips as I crashed against him, my bare skin meeting his, the heat of his body searing into mine like a brand causing my nipples to harden. Water streamed between us, slicking our skin, but nothing could cool the fire igniting in my veins.

For a split second, we just stood there, bodies pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync. His breath was hot against my lips, his grip on me unrelenting.

Then his lips crashed against mine with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs, like he’d been holding back for too long and had finally snapped. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me impossibly closer, as if he needed me like oxygen, like this was the only way to breathe. I didn’t think—I couldn’t. My fingers tangled into his wet hair, nails scraping against his scalp as I kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring every ounce of frustration, anger, and something dangerously close to desperation into him.

The water pounded down around us, the steam curling between our bodies, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was him—his touch, his lips, the way he consumed me like he had no plans of stopping.

And, god help me, I didn’t want him to.

I barely had time to catch my breath before his mouth found my neck. A sharp gasp escaped me as his lips latched onto my skin, hot and unrelenting. He kissed, sucked, nipped, his breath ragged against my damp skin as he worked his way down, finding every sensitive spot with infuriating precision.

My hands clung to his shoulders, the muscles beneath my fingers tensing with every movement. His tongue flicked over my collarbone before he sucked at the delicate skin, teeth grazing just enough to send a shudder down my spine.

I tilted my head back against the tiled wall, my lips parting as waves of sensation crashed over me. The heat of the water, the steam curling around us, the feeling of his lips against my skin—it was too much and not enough all at once.

Without warning, Jungkook moved lower, his lips trailing a path of heat down my neck, past my collarbone, leaving a tingling trail in their wake. My breath hitched, my body tense with anticipation, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

His mouth latched onto my right breast, lips wrapping around the sensitive skin as he sucked, hard and purposeful. A strangled gasp left me, my head falling back as my fingers dug into his shoulders. My legs threatened to give out beneath me, the sudden rush of pleasure making me feel weightless and unsteady.

At the same time, his other hand found my left breast, his fingers rough and demanding as they kneaded the soft flesh. He squeezed, thumb flicking over my nipple before tugging, sending another sharp jolt of sensation straight through me.

My stomach clenched, heat pooling low, my body betraying me completely. The contrast between the warmth of his mouth and the firm touch of his hand had my mind spinning, every nerve in my body hyper-aware of him, of the way he was taking his time, dragging this out like he wanted to unravel me piece by piece.

I tried to suppress a moan, but it slipped out anyway, soft and breathless. Jungkook groaned in response, his teeth grazing over my sensitive skin before sucking harder, like he wanted to hear more, like he wanted to push me past the point of reason.

I clung to him, nails scraping against his damp skin as the heat of the shower wrapped around us, steam curling in the air like a haze, thick and suffocating. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs, my pulse a frantic rhythm in my ears.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his breath warm against my skin as he murmured, voice low and rough, "Look at you… shaking already."

I barely had time to glare before his tongue flicked over the spot he had just abused, soothing the mark he had left behind. The smugness in his voice should have irritated me, but my body had other ideas, betraying me completely as another shudder ran through me. Jungkook's hands gripped my waist firmly, and in one swift motion, he spun me around. A soft gasp escaped me as my back collided with his chest, the warmth of his damp skin pressing against mine, his every breath sending a shiver down my spine.

Now facing the glass shower door, I was met with our reflection—our bodies slick with water, our skin flushed from heat and something far more dangerous. Steam clung to the glass, blurring the edges, but not enough to hide the way he towered over me, his dark eyes locked onto mine in the reflection, filled with something raw and unreadable.

His hands slid slowly up my sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before settling at my waist, his grip possessive, unyielding. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back, every inch of him pressed against me, making it impossible to ignore the tension crackling between us.

Jungkook lowered his head, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear as he let out a low, satisfied hum. "Don’t look away," he murmured, his voice dripping with something that sent another wave of heat through me.

I felt his hand trace a slow, deliberate path up the inside of my thigh, his fingertips barely grazing my skin. I refused to look down, knowing that if I did, I would completely unravel. But I could feel everything—his warmth, the steady pressure of his touch, the way he moved with agonizing patience, as if savoring every second.

Then, without warning, his fingers entered me, firm and unrelenting. A sharp gasp tore from my lips, my body jolting at the sudden contact. My hands shot out, pressing against the fogged-up glass in front of me, seeking something, anything to steady myself.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted, but my body had already betrayed me. My legs trembled, my breath coming in shallow bursts as his fingers moved at a maddening pace, pushing me to the edge of reason. My reflection in the glass was barely visible now, steam curling around us, blurring the lines between where I ended and he began. His free hand skimmed up my side, grabbing my left breast tightly, a stark reminder of who was in control.

"Tell me," he breathed, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. "Tell me how much you hate me."

"I-I hate you so much," I stammered, my voice barely above a breath. "You n-never listen… you just assume."

Jungkook let out a low, satisfied hum, but instead of slowing down, he did the opposite. His movements grew quicker, more insistent, tearing another sharp gasp from my lips.

"What else?" he murmured against my ear, his voice a deep, dangerous whisper.

I clenched my jaw, trying to fight against the flood of emotions surging through me, but it was useless. The frustration, the anger, the undeniable pull between us—it was all too much.

"Y-you think the world wants m-me," I managed between ragged breaths, my body betraying me with every shudder, every involuntary movement that pressed me closer against him. "But you never l-listen to what I want."

 "Then show me," he said, his voice low, steady. "Slap me."

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "What?" My heart raced, unsure if I had heard him correctly, the air between us thick with tension.

"Slap me, take your anger out on me, do whatever the fuck you want to me." he repeated, his voice unwavering, though his jaw tightened as if bracing for my response.

I hesitated. The words lingered in the air, a challenge I didn’t know how to answer. My fingers twitched, my heart still pounding. I looked into his eyes, searching for the meaning behind the request, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, I raised my hand.

With one quick motion, my palm met his cheek, the sound of it sharp in the stillness of the shower.

At that, his pace quickened. His fingers explored with newfound urgency, reaching places that made my breath hitch and my body tense. A sharp gasp escaped me, my forehead pressing against the fogged-up shower door as a deep, twisting pressure coiled in my stomach, winding tighter and tighter with every second. My fingers trembled against the slick glass, my entire body caught in the storm he was pulling me into, leaving me powerless to do anything but hold on.

Then, with a firm grip, he spun me around to face him once more, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a fresh wave of heat through me. Before I could catch my breath, his hand slid down my thigh, strong and possessive, fingers digging in just enough to make me shudder. In one swift motion, he lifted my left leg, hooking it over his shoulder with effortless ease, his body pressing even closer to mine.

His face hovered near mine, so close that our breaths mingled, the space between us reduced to mere centimeters. His other hand never faltered, continuing its relentless pace moving in and out of me.

A sharp gasp tore from my lips as the sheer intensity of it overwhelmed me, my body jolting against his hold as I felt myself near my release. His dark eyes stayed locked onto mine, watching, no devouring every reaction, every unguarded moment of surrender as my mouth fell open, a broken sound escaping me.

Before I could even gather myself, he released me abruptly, spinning me around once more. The sudden movement had me slamming against the cold tiles, the impact sharp but oddly grounding. His grip on my hair was fierce, yanking me back so that my ass arched into him, his hardness of his length evident.

His other hand shot out with sudden force, capturing my wrists together, then in one swift motion, he yanked them behind my back the pressure on my arms leaving me vulnerable and completely at his mercy. 

His voice came low and dangerous, a growl against my ear. "You know what I hate about you?" he said, his fingers tightening in my hair, pulling my head back so I had no choice but to look at him. "You don’t fucking listen."

I tried to respond, but the words died on my tongue as he closed the distance between us, entering me in one go. I gasped, my mind going completely blank as I struggled to process the overwhelming sensation.

The fullness was intense, dizzying, and my body tensed in response, fighting to steady itself against the intrusion. Every thought scattered, replaced by nothing but the raw intensity of the moment, leaving me breathless and suspended in a haze of confusion and heat.

Jungkook began to move against me aggressively, the severity of his actions causing my ass to clap against him as he plunged into me harder and harder, "You think these guys want to be friends with you?" His words were sharp, filled with something darker, something that stirred the heat between us even further.

"You really believe they have good intentions?" he asked, his words laced with frustration. His grip on me tightened, before his hand came down on my ass with a firm slap at my lack of response, once, twice, three times.

I mewled at the stinging sensation as I stared up at him, his anger evident in his expression as he continued to move against me. “They don’t care about you,” he said, his tone edged with something sharp and almost desperate. “They just want to know how to get to you. How to tear you apart.”

His words hit me harder than I expected, the rawness in his voice drawing my attention. It wasn’t just anger I heard, but a deep, underlying fear. 

His movements became more frantic, each thrust more urgent than the last. The heat between us surged, my body igniting under the intensity, every touch sending a jolt of electricity through my veins. My skin tingled with an intense, overwhelming mix of sensations as he gripped me with a force that left its mark. Red and purple bruises bloomed across my body, a testament to the desperation in his touch.

Each one felt like an imprint of something raw, something unspoken. I could feel myself nearing the edge, the tension coiling tighter inside me, my heart pounding with both anticipation and fear—afraid that, just like before, he might pull away again, leaving me suspended in that agonizing space of uncertainty, proving his point at the cost of everything we shared.

His grip tightened further, and his breath was hot against my ear as he spoke, his words laced with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down my spine.

“They just want to fuck you," he murmured, his voice low and strained. "They want to know how it feels to be inside you, but I won’t let them. You’re mine."

His words lingered in the air, the weight of them pressing down on me like a heavy storm cloud. There was no mistaking the intensity in his voice, the conviction in the way he held me. 

“I won’t let them near you,” he muttered, his voice dark, almost possessive. “They think they can have a piece of you. Touch you. Know you. But you’re mine, Aylah. No one else gets to claim you. Not ever.”

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing the side of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “I don’t care if they smile at you or talk to you,” he continued, his breath hot against my skin. “I don’t care what they think they can do. I’m the only one who gets to touch you. You belong to me, and I won’t let you forget that.”

I stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. The possessiveness in his voice wasn’t just about control; it was about fear. Fear of losing me. Fear that I might slip away, as if I were something fragile, something worth holding onto with everything he had.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, this time softer, but with an intensity that sent a fire through my chest. “No one else matters. You don’t belong to anyone but me.”

At the realisation that I was lost in the moment, completely absorbed by his words, he abruptly released himself into me gasping against the back of my neck as he remained inside me. I gasped sharply, my breath coming in ragged bursts as my chest rose and fell with the intensity of my own release, each inhale shaky, every exhale heavy. 

As his grip finally loosened, I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest, still reeling from the intensity of everything that had just happened. Without hesitation, I reached up, cupping his cheek gently in my hand, feeling the warmth of his skin under my touch.

"You need to stop worrying," I said softly, trying to steady the emotions that still swirled between us. "I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

He leaned into my touch, his eyes closing for a moment as if my words were a quiet comfort, but when he opened them again, the concern was still there. "I know," he murmured, his voice low and almost vulnerable. "But I just...I don't want you getting hurt."

My heart ached at the tenderness in his voice. Slowly, I pressed my forehead to his, grounding us both in the moment. "I know, baby," I whispered. "But you just need to trust me. I promise, I'm not like Jade."

For a moment, his eyes faltered, as if my words had struck something deep inside of him. He let out a shaky breath, the weight of his fear still present. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Then, almost instinctively, he leaned into me, his head resting gently against my chest. "I know you're not like her," he whispered, his words full of quiet regret. "But I can't help but be scared. These feelings...they're all I'm used to."

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, running my fingers through the back of his hair in a soothing motion. "I know," I said softly, the understanding in my voice steady. "And it's okay. It's going to take time, but all I can ask from you is to put faith in us."

He pulled back slightly, lifting his head to look into my eyes. There was something different in the way he looked at me now, a tenderness, a deep honesty. "I do," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you."

My chest tightened at his words, the love between us palpable. And before I could say anything else, he closed the distance, kissing me deeply. I reciprocated, pouring everything I felt into the kiss—relief, love, and the silent promise that we'd face everything together.

Then, without warning I pushed him down so that he was sat on his knees. He looked up at me, startled by my sudden movement, his eyes wide with confusion as he stammered, "W-what...?" I didn’t dignify him with a response and instead threw my leg over his shoulder, pulling him closer with a determined tug so that his face was against my heat.

I looked down at him, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips, but there was a sharpness to my tone. "You love me, huh?" I said, the words dripping with sarcasm as I raised an eyebrow, daring him to defend it. "Then finish me properly like a good boy."

He was taken aback by my words, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly tried to mask his surprise, forcing himself to regain control. After a brief pause, he let out a strained "Yes, ma’am." 

I gripped his hair tightly, yanking him closer as I guided his movements with a firm, unrelenting pull, pushing him further into my heat until he had no space to breathe. He slowly ran his tongue along my folds, savoring each movement. His eyes flickered up, watching me as he gently sucked on my clit, the rhythm of his actions drawn out, each flick of his tongue creating a subtle tension between us. 

I couldn't help but smirk, the playful edge to my voice matching the energy in the air. "Good boy," I teased softly, my words laced with a hint of approval. "You like that, don’t you?"

As he quickened his rhythm, he gave a soft murmur, “Yeah,” the word rolling off his tongue. Without warning, his hand grasped my other leg, lifting it and tossing it over his shoulder to mirror the first. In one swift motion, he stood, leaving me perched on his shoulders, my body leaning slightly forward as I tried to steady myself.

He stepped forward, pressing me firmly against the tiles, the cool surface sending a shiver through me as he resumed his movements with even more intensity. He sucked harder and harder causing my feet to curl behind his back as I felt myself release into his mouth, but he wasn’t done, instead he kept his mouth in place taking in every last drop of me as I watched it trickle down his chin.

His eyes closed for a moment, "I can’t get enough of you," he murmured.

I smirked, watching him enjoy the moment. “Good thing you’ve got forever to experience this,” I teased, the playful tone in my voice adding a lighthearted edge to the moment.

He met my gaze, his eyes intense, the smirk never leaving his lips. "I'll make sure to savor every second of it then."

[messenger-of-babel]

Could you write about the sweetheart grips? Soldiers in ww2 used to put photos of their lovers on the grips of their guns and I think that would be cute with Jason.

Eye for An Eye

Summary: Jason keeps a photo of you in his gun to keep you close to him, even in his hardest moments. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: dear anon I really, really wanted to make this sweet. But then I got an angst idea and- I tried to do it justice without too many tears. Forehead kisses for you because as soon as you sent this in I legit thought about this idea for like three days straight I fell in love with the concept. I might use it again for other Jason fics you got me hooked (I was a MASSIVE military history nerd). Warnings for description of violence and injury, character death, some choppy writing. Back onto my angst train, I'm so sorry y'all (I'll write this concept sweeter sometime, I SWEAR).

ALSO HAPPY 100 POSTS. It's crazy when I remember I'm still a baby blog. <3

Enjoy~! RiRi xoxo <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bruce had never been one for guns, and while Jason was Robin, he hadn't either.

He didn't consider himself a particularly violent child or had any real craving to use weapons. After all, he never really hit anyone who didn't deserve it, and he got great satisfaction of getting back at people who thought they could hurt innocent civilians just because they were bigger and older than him.

That was until he was taken by Joker and showed just how much hurt someone older and bigger than could inflict.

April 27th, the date that the Joker killed Jason Todd.

Now, he couldn’t imagine his hands without the comforting grip of his pistol. The grips were designed just for him, slotting into the contours of his fingers and worn away in the areas he instinctually rubbed. They were wide so they sat snug in his large palms, with a coarse texture in the areas he habitually flexed. The grip allowed it to stick to his gloves for a steadier shot while it would simply irritate anyone else who tried to hold them.

Everyone knew that those guns were Jasons, but nothing said it quite like the new addition of the faded photo tucked into the grips. The colt's had originally come with wooden handgrips, which were quickly removed while he made his modifications.

"You know the Bat isn't gonna be happy with you getting another set of guns." Dick calls out, approaching his worktable in the cave. Jason just grunts at him over his shoulder, making sure he keeps the screws where he can see them.

"Bruce can honestly suck it up." he huffs, the mention of the Bat souring his demeanour immediately. Jason had wanted to do this in his apartment for this exact same reason. He knew Stephanie would annoy him with questions if she caught sight of him, and that Tim would interject constantly with 'improvements' he deemed necessary. Duke he could deal with, and Cass would leave him well enough alone.

Dick and Damian just managed to piss him off simply existing sometimes.

Mostly when he was already in a bad mood.

His older brother trots down the stairs, a frown forming on his face as he puts his hands on his hips to observe.

"Quiet." Jason mumbles flatly, knowing the older vigilante was giving him a disapproving stare. Dick ignores him, eyeing the photo tucked up near his water bottle.

"Jason," he says, voice a warning tone.

"I said quiet." he cuts off, wiping the area down with a damp cloth. Dick just sighs behind him as Jason gingerly picks up the photo, rubbing his calloused thumbs over it. Dick wants to say something as he eyes the photo but can't bring himself to speak above the block in his chest. He watches the tension ease from his brother’s shoulders, the muscles that had been stiffly held by his ears for weeks. The scowl he wore softened slightly, and he could actually hear him exhale for once instead of wondering if his chest actually was moving or not. Instead, Dick sighs in reluctance, giving in. Dick watches him with sad eyes, clapping a hand on his shoulder with a slight squeeze. "Don't forget to, you know," he leans forward slightly and draws a circle with his finger on a certain point of the photo. Jason's face ripples with a flash of pain, but he watches his younger brother grit his teeth and nod.

"Look after yourself, Jay." he murmurs, pulling back. "Don't do anything stupid."

Jason waits a little bit before turning back the photo, ensuring that Dick had left the cave. A still silence settled over the dim space once more. It didn't help the hum in his head, making his fingers and muscles shake, the white noise refusing to settle in his conscious. He gently drew on the photo of you with pencil, tracing the shape that he needed for the grip and ensuring that you weren't cut out by accident.

It was a favourite photo of his, taken at one of Bruce's galas. He hadn't wanted to go, hardly showing to the events in the first place. "Full of rich idiots trying to get even richer." he had told you, tossing a look over his shoulder to you. You were standing at the door, holding the invite that had been slipped through the mail slot. You waved the thick cardstock, a small smile on your face. "Aw, but I was kinda looking forward to going." you say, looking over the details. "I think it'll be fun."

"The only one who thinks those things are fun are Dick and Steph if she's around. Tim will get bored and probably turn into a loan shark if left unattended too long. So yeah, fun." he grumbled.

"What about Dami?"

Her turns around, eyebrows raised.

"I’m sorry?" he asks. "When did we start calling the demon child, Dami? We're on nickname level now?"

He hates how his heart flutters in his chest when he hears you laugh, melting away his annoyance.

"He's sweet, just a little prickly. like you." you grin, coming to wrap your arms around his neck, pecking him on the lips.

"Yeah, he's sweet to you, he's a little shit to everyone else." he grumbles.

"Sounds like someone else I know." you tease.

He can't help but grin, sighing out through his nose softly. "Fine. we can go." he grumbles, knowing he won’t be able to stay mad at you for long.

The photo he traces was from that night, you tucked into his side. You're staring at the camera with a sparkle in your eye, lips pulled back into a wide grin. You're wearing black to fit the theme of the ball, with red accents, matching him. He’s got his arm around your shoulder, taking the photo with you pressed up against him. He thinks you look stunning, eyes twinkling at him from the page.

He takes the exacto knife and gently runs it over the image, cutting himself out so that he can focus on you. The piece pops free, and he trims the edges. His heart thrums as he slides you onto the handle, fluttering with a tame delight.

"Don't forget to, you know..."

Dick’s voice floats back into his mind, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards once more. Reluctantly he pulls your photo from the handle and reaches for a screwdriver to his left, bringing it above the paper. He feels like he's about to stab you, the way the metal tip hovers above the image smiling back at him.

But he does it, heart clenching with each scrape across your eyes, slowly erasing the twinkle he loved so much. There's something sickening about the feeling of scratching your face out, the gritty sound of the photo tearing and leaving white streaks in its wake making his stomach flip. Finally, it's done, stark white lines blotting out your gaze. All that's left is the upturn of your lips, and the soft smile you wore.

With a heavy sigh Jason slots it back onto the handle, placing the clear protector over you. At least nothing could damage you more than he already had. He told himself it was for the better, as he cleaned his hands on a nearby rag and bit the inside of his cheek. You weren't the most supportive of his guns, but you liked that they kept him safe. You had had a few conversations with him about it but never an argument. He wanted to keep you close, but he knew he wasn't going to be an idiot about it. He wanted to protect you, hide your identity from any eagle-eyed thugs.

"Besides," he thought to himself. "Don't want em seeing what I'm about to do."

Maybe it was for the best that he covered your face for this.

His body hums with adrenaline, still alone in the Batcave. With scarred fingers he screws the cover onto the grip, clear cover sitting flush and keeping your photo secure. Jasons tosses it a few times in his hand, getting used to the feeling of the new colt pistols and making sure you weren't going to shake loose. When he was content, he looked over his shoulder, scanning the shadows for movement.

He knew that Bruce would condemn his actions, he didn’t even need to ask on that front. Dick would be understanding but try to hold him back, and Tim would try to talk him out of it. The only person he felt that silently agreed with him was Damian, the pair of them fostering an unlikely bond in the last few weeks.

Everyone in the manor knew what Jason was thinking.

What Jason was doing spending his nights in the Batcave, the one place he had grown to hate ever since coming back.

What he contemplated as he haunted the halls of the manor, the place he often traded in for the comfort of his downtown apartment.

Everyone knew what Jason was going to do tonight, yet none of them were game enough to say it out loud or stop him.

Therefore, Jason took their silence as compliance because he knew somewhere deep down, they wanted him to do it.

Or was he deluding himself?

He shook the thought from his head, holstering the newly decorated pistol. He was already dressed and strapped for this mission, no turning back now. With heavy hands he donned his helmet, taking a deep breath as he pushed Jason aside to become Red Hood. The air was still, as if the Batcave was filled with spirits watching him in silence as he mounted the bike and pressed the key for the garage door, speeding out.

He was already haunted by too many ghosts.

The streets of Gotham were relatively quiet, the usual alleys he stalked devoid of the thugs he would have expected. It seemed that even the city was holding its breath, civilians tucked safely inside. He knew where he was going.

He had been receiving mocking invites in the mail for the last week, notes attached to crime scenes in a gory fashion just to mock him. So really, it was no surprise when he arrived at Gotham cemetery, parking outside and not even bothering to kill the engine. He wasn’t going to be long anyways.

Just past the cemetery was the crumbling shell of Arkham, ivy covering the brickwork and roof caving in. His boots crushed broken panes of glass as he entered the decaying mental hospital, leaves scattered through the building from wrinkled trees that had cracked through the floors. He slowly made his way to the upper floor, where he had seen the lights.

Instinctually he reached for his gun, and he felt his heart calm sliding his hand over your picture secured into his sweetheart grip. He hadn't felt this anxious fighting in a while, unused to the way that his pulse thudded against his neck or the dryness that crept into his mouth. The corridor felt like it stretched on forever, making his vision swim trying to reach the light at the end.

Candlelight flickered weakly at the end of the hall, luring him in like a moth. As he stepped in he took note of it, hand tightening. Jason knew he was going to play with him, taunt and torture him. The images of you taped up on the peeling walls were enough. Photos that spanned back months, photos of you on dates, at work, in his car, in your apartment, blurry photos of you and him in his bed. His thumb instinctually placed itself over your eyes, despite them already being scratched out.

He didn't need you seeing the messy patchwork of your life.

Jason didn't even mind the photos, knowing the sadist would be doing something like that. What he did mind though were the images of you from three weeks ago, the same images that Dick had refused to let him see, that Tim wiped off the Batcomputer hard drive and Babs had removed from the GCPD database. The ones displaying the blood, the bone, the bruising.

Your eyes, unseeing.

Everything that was so familiar to him, but so foreign on you.

Everything that that one curved piece of metal had caused way back when, stained a dark brown. The same piece of metal that was sitting in the middle of the desk at the centre of the crude shrine, drying with a fresher coat of oxidised red.

He felt his heart rise to his throat, but he wasn’t sure if it was bile in his throat or the taste of blood from his bitten lip. His grip turned white, muscles flexing under the skin and pressing unnaturally hard. He felt the green tinged mania inside him rear its head, threatening to take over his mind and act purely on instinct. The Lazarus pit clawed and pulled at his soul harder that it had in years, gasping at him like a beggar, screaming for a shred of violence to feed it.

He knew the game. He knew all of this was to provoke him, try to get Jason to release the rage inside him. The monster wanted to see him squirm, see him struggle to keep himself in check. He wanted to watch Jason Todd fight against the Red Hood, watch the Bats moral code play out on his face.

Well, Jason wasn't Batman. He wasn't Bruce.

As soon as a skinny figure moved from the shadows to his right, his pistol was out in a flash. His free hand ripped the mask from his face, jaw tight and eyebrows furrowed, but he felt more relaxed than he had been in ages.

He was no Batman. He was Jason Todd.

And Jason was going to do the one thing Bruce had always been too much of a coward to do.

With one crisp bang the clown couldn’t get a single word out before he was splayed on the floor. As Jason stepped over the body he regarded it apathetically, barely biting down the urge to step on it. The bastards’ lips were pulled back in a wide smile, even in death. Maybe he had expected Jason to do this, maybe it was his last hurrah as an asshole, but Jason didn't care.

He didn’t even feel scared at the idea of the aftermath as a retraced his steps out of the abandoned building, mounting his still-running bike.

There hadn't been a single gloat before the gun cracked through the night, not a single joke or pun or taunt to leave the devil’s mouth. Bruce might have entertained it, let him play it out, but not Jason.

For Jason, everything that needed to be said had been said in actions.

The air was strangely cool, devoid of the humidity that nomrally hung in the streets. The city itself seemed to be sighing, taking a breath like the chord holding the city on a leash had been cut. He relished the feeling of it on his skin, the cracks in his suit letting the breeze run across his knuckles and where his mask met his neck. He imagined the cool fingers were you, cradling his face and whispering for him to take a rest, and he let his eyes flutter closed briefly.

 As he hit a red light he took a pause, reaching his hand down to pat where you were, tucked tightly under his hip. He didn't care what the reaction was going to be when he reached the manor, or the screaming match that was likely going to destroy what was left of his relationship with his pseudo father. All that matters is that he had done right by you, that he had done what he wished someone had done for him.

April 17th, the night Jason Todd killed the Joker.

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part six

Pairing: Eris x Azriel x reader | WC: 4.2k | warnings: general angst, mentions of dizziness and nausea

Summary: you wake up only to find out you were unconscious much longer than anticipated, leading to multiple needed confrontations

Author’s note: I’ve been a bit MIA lately 😅 just throwing this out in the void before going through my dms/inbox. I’m soooo excited for the next part

Previous part | Next part | Masterlist

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know how bad your head hurt. It felt impossibly heavy, practically glued to the pillow beneath you. You weren’t entirely sure your neck could hold up its weight anymore. You groaned, not really certain where you were. You combed through the last things you remembered, all of it a blur of blood and exhaustion, none of it clear.

“Do you want to tell me what’s been going on with you?”

A low female voice greeted you, receiving only a grunt in response. Thinking was hard and it only caused the throbbing in your head to worsen. You weren’t entirely sure who was talking to you or why, but you focused all of your energy trying to remember what happened.

All you could remember was blood and pain, a tiredness that you carried in your bones. There was arguing and arrows and Eris. Slowly more and more came back to you until you sat up, wincing at the sudden change, nearly nauseous from the movement.

“Azriel? How’s Azriel?” Your eyes cracked open to find your room around you, albeit slightly cleaner than when you had left it. The still room was a sharp contrast to how you felt inside. Nesta was sitting in a chair next to your bed, a book in her lap, a finger marking her place in it.

She didn’t look happy to see you, nor did she seem to care that you were awake.

“He’ll be fine, thanks to you it would seem.”

You groaned, falling back onto the bed. The suddenness was something you had not learned from when sitting up. Now the room was slightly spinning before you shut your eyes tight, hoping for some reprieve. You rubbed your eyes harshly until you saw stars.

“It would also seem like you almost burnt out saving him.”

Burnt out.

It was something they warned all healers, magic or not. There is a breaking point. A point of no return. It’s happened to many healers over the centuries, especially during times of war, when they don’t quite know their own limits.

Something all healers learn is the whereabouts of their magical limitations, where they need to stop before doing serious damage to themselves. All healers were taught not to place someone else’s life above your own. It’s drilled into your heads, one of the first rules of practicing the healing arts.

But you had done it. You had placed Azriel’s life above your own without even a second thought.

The pained look that was on Eris’s face was enough to keep you from crumbling from that realization.

For hours, you placed Azriel’s healing above yourself. You made the choice over and over again, choosing him over yourself. You made the right call. You would do it again. You could handle a broken bond, but not a dead one.

Maybe this one sided devotion was proof enough you were making the right decision.

“I’m sure you have a better understanding than I do of how stupid and reckless that is, and yet you still did it.” Nesta’s voice wasn’t the happy, soothing voices you usually hear patient’s families spoke with after they wake up. If you heard someone chastising a patient after waking, you’d chew their heads off. Instead, you stayed quiet, just watching Nesta as she continued on.

“For weeks now, I have sat idly by as you spiraled into self-destruction, but I can’t do so anymore.” Her voice cracked with each word, betraying the anger she was trying to inject into each word. “You are my friend, and I care so much about you. I’m worried about you.”

Her concern cracked at your heart. She crumpled into herself, bringing a hand up to her mouth. She looked uncomfortable, like her body had been glued to the chair and was finally unfolding itself from strange positions to find comfort.

“I’m fine, Nesta.” You were groggy, nauseous, and a bit heartbroken, but you’d be fine. Azriel was alive, you were going to be mateless, but you’d be fine.

Her eyebrows pinched together, a look of annoyance crossing over her features. You weren’t sure if it was over your words or interrupting her.

“I haven’t been there for you as I should. I thought you needed space, and now you’re here.” She spat out the last word, but you knew she wasn’t talking about being confined to your room.

“How long was I out?” You had to stop Nesta’s spiraling and get a handle on the situation. Madja wasn’t here to tell you what had happened, but surely you could parse out your state from a few questions Nesta should know the answers to.

“Four days.”

Nesta must be wrong. Surely there was no way you were incapacitated for four whole days. That was ridiculous. But you looked over Nesta, taking in the purple bags beneath her eyes, her hands fisting into the fabric of her wrinkled dress.

She wouldn’t lie about that.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” And you hadn’t. You hadn’t thought of anyone except for Azriel and Eris for several hours, all of your attention on the two males. When you weren’t examining Azriel for his condition, your gaze would end up floating to wherever Eris was.

But now neither of them are here, just you and Nesta.

“You didn’t scare me. I was terrified. I thought you were gone, thought you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Nesta, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Wasn’t that bad?” She repeated your words with a venom that had you recoil, preparing yourself for the strike. “You were wailing in Cassian’s arms in the foyer. You were inconsolable until you passed out. Madja’s been here nearly every hour to check on you.”

Shit. If Madja was making hourly rounds, you were in worse shape than you thought. Hourly rounds meant you must have been practically knocking on death’s door.

“What happened out there? What happened when you were with Azriel and Eris?” Nesta was practically pleading, desperate for some kind of answer. She was like a dog, a scent stuck in her nose until she nosed her way to the truth. You wanted to break, tell her everything.

Until you’re struck by the memory of Eris’s hand, pushing through Azriel’s wings, finding you. How tight his grip was, he warm his skin had been.

“We were ambushed. Azriel took the brunt of it. We healed him and came straight back here.” You absentmindedly rubbed at your wrist

“But you were gone for hours. You should have winnowed back.”

“Eris winnowed us somewhere. He was in bad shape, so I fixed him. How’s Azriel?” You needed to know more about his condition. Nesta said he’d be fine, but did that include any long term effects? How much had your healing helped him?

“He’s resting, but he’ll be fine.” She crossed her arms, her fingers tapping on her arm, not telling you much more than she already had. You were sure this was her punishing you, by leaving you in the dark on Azriel.

“If he wasn’t fine after you nearly killed yourself to save him, I’d resuscitate both of you to kill you myself.” You hadn’t realized you forgot to respond until she chastised you.

“Nesta-“

“You both were gone for hours. It was supposed to be quick. None of us realized until Rhysand couldn’t get through to either of you.”

You blinked, surprised at that. Eris must have had some form of protection put around the cabin that stopped Rhysand.

Interesting.

“And now you’re telling me next to nothing.”

“I just woke up. I can hardly recall it all myself, okay?” A lie. You remembered all of it clearly. The splintering wood, having to carefully remove the arrowheads, all of the blood gushing from him, Eris’s quick remarks.

“Did you fuck him?” The question was quick and unexpected, and you nearly snapped your neck with how quickly you looked at her.

“Who, Eris?” She didn’t move, didn’t give away any slight movement. Still as a statue as yiur heart began beating faster.

“Yes, Eris. You reek of him these days. I won’t tell the others, but I need to know.” His name on her tongue sent a rush through your body, your jaw ticking in annoyance.

“Yes Nesta, I fucked him while Az was bleeding out.” The barb was quick on your tongue, this conversation raising your heckles and irritating you more than anything. Nesta’s eyes hardened for a flash, a mischievous glint in them before she softened ever so slightly, her voice turning from admonishing to conspiratorial in a manner of seconds.

“Do you think he’s a selfless lover?”

“No.” The response was too quick, too ready on the forefront of your mind, something that didn’t go unnoticed by your friend. “I imagine he’s selfish in every aspect of his life.”

“So you imagine it?”

“Nesta.” Her name was sharp from your mouth, a knife slicing across the room. She took a more defensive stance, approaching your bed. A knowing smirk overtook her features for just a moment before it quickly contorted into one of concern and annoyance.

“Mother’s sake, tell me something, anything.” Nesta was pleading at this point, uncaring at the vulnerability and guilt she was sure was all over her face.

“I can’t.”

“You can tell me anything. Are you in danger?”

“No.”

“Well, I don’t know! You’re avoiding everyone, you're being self destructive, you’re spending a lot of time with Eris of all fae. What am I supposed to think?” She was pacing now, her footfalls back and forth across your floor, an anxious rhythm that only dug the secret deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Nesta, I can’t tell you.”

“I’m not accepting that.”

“What?” Her concern was shifting into nosiness. You clenched your hands in frustration, nails digging into skin harsh enough to leave marks.

“It’s not good enough.”

Rage was coiling inside of you, a ferocity nipping at your fingertips begging to be let out. You had to swallow down a growl from slipping out, the territorial feeling nearly consuming you.

You had to stall her. Get her out of here before you exploded before her.

“Give me a month to figure things out. I’ll be honest with you then.”

“A week.” You sighed through your nose. Of course Nesta was going to barter with you. Your left hand felt warm. A small trickle of blood was about to stain your sheets, no doubt.

“Two weeks.”

She looked to the window, her face blank as she thought over your offer. She was taking this almost too seriously, as if it were hostage negotiations or preparing for war.

“Fine. Fourteen days from now you’re telling me everything.” She pointed a long finger at you, the agreement weighing the air down. You felt a shift in the room, uncertain of the magical perimeters of your verbal agreement.

You released your hand, grabbing the pillow behind you. You didn’t care about the blood as you held the soft material to your face and screamed.

-

Members of the Inner Circle trickled in throughout the day, each one wanting to see for themselves you were awake and had all your faculties about you. It was sweet, but by the time you had seen Cassian and his boisterous laugh, your head was pounding so hard it made the soft lights in your room appear blinding.

Feyre had come in a few hours after Cassian, boxes loaded in her arms as she came into your room. You were a bit groggy, having just woken from a nap in the hopes it would tampen your migraine.

It half worked.

“What is all that?”

The boxes shuffled in Feyre’s arms, ringing and tingling with each step.

“Well, I wanted to bring some jewelry to look over for the gala in a few weeks.” You had completely forgotten about it, had forgotten that one of the days you were incapacitated was a scheduled day for you, Feyre, and Mor to go dress shopping.

“Thanks, Fey. Sorry for missing-” she shushed you, not letting you finish your apology. She spread the boxes across your bed, gently lifting the lid of each one to reveal exquisite necklace after exquisite necklace. Each one contained more vibrant jewels, shinier than the last.

The eight boxes practically blinded you with the light coming in. Feyre noticed the squint in your eye and quickly closed the curtains.

“They're gorgeous, but I haven’t even picked a dress.”

“Maybe you could pick a dress after you pick the jewels. Black goes with everything, so..” she trailed off, sitting in the seat next to you, her back straight. She watched you eagerly, her eyes flitting between you and the pile of jewels before you.

“Are you wearing any of these?”

“No - Rhys surprised me with some onyx pearls. Want them on full display.” She reached a hand up to her throat, as if feeling for the necklace. It was pretty easy to figure out exactly what Feyre meant - skin, and lots of it, on display. She was much quicker to adapt to fae views on modesty than you had anticipated.

“Oh, well in that case.” You sat up a bit straighter, moving slowly to avoid as much pain as possible. Each necklace must have been worth a pile of gold marks.

A few of them looked quite similar - chunky gemstones of varying colors set in different metals. One necklace did catch your eye. You kept looking over to it, the other ones looking dull and lifeless in comparison. Deep red stones perfectly set to resemble Night Court jasmines. The dark red nearly looked black until the light hit it, refracting rays of red. The stones branched out, weaving around the neck to create multiple flowers connected by leaves.

You couldn’t stop looking at the necklace, your hand gently rubbing across it.

“Do you like that one?”

Feyre had a knowing look as she watched you, but you didn't turn to see it.

“Yes. I do.”

-

A few more visitors came and went - Madja (again), Rhysand, Mor. Each one not the shadowsinger you wanted to see. Maybe it was better to wait. Build your strength up a bit before shattering your heart.

Rhysand and Mor could both tell your head wasn’t with them. Rhys accepted it, leaving you to your thoughts, but Mor lingered, her never ending stories an attempt at distracting you. The attempt half worked - at least now only every other thought was about Azriel.

But most of the other ones were about Eris.

Your friends tried to help clear your mind, but all your thoughts whirled and swirled with fire and shadow, bright and vibrant colors immediately snuffed out by the darkness.

Everyone told you Azriel was fine. But where was he? You felt unsettled, unable to truly concentrate without seeing him.

You glanced over to your bedside table, the book on broken mating bonds practically laughing at your turmoil.

You went over what to expect again, trying to see if you can recall all the symptoms and long term side effects of the broken bond, repeating them to yourself like a mantra.

-

It wasn’t until the next day you saw Azriel. He had gently knocked on the door before coming in, each movement slow and unsure, as if approaching a wild animal.

“I had heard rumors you were awake. Wanted to check for myself.” He stood with the door to his back, as far away as possible from you. One hand on the knob, but his body was angled right at you.

You couldn’t think of anything to say, only stare at him outright.

Azriel looked beautiful, like always, but he carried a tiredness with him. His wings weren’t as high as they usually stood, his shoulders were caved in a bit. His shadows were slithering in every direction, all trying to reach you, but held back by some invisible tether.

He looked miserable.

“If you don’t want me here, I can go.” Azriel’s voice was soft, an echo in the dark woods late at night. A salvation or a new fear.

“Have you visited while I was asleep?” You didn’t want to tell him how much you wanted him here, how much you still thought of him.

So what if you were going to stretch out the last few minutes of your bond.

“Madja wouldn’t let me. She had Cassian and Mor practically guarding the door day and night to ensure I stayed put until completely recovered.” He scoffed as he said it, as if he were nothing more than an animal incapable of decisive thought.

Or they didn’t think he was the coward he had been for the past few weeks. They thought him capable of seeing you.

And yet here he was. Despite his self-loathing, his inability to make a decision, to speak, to do anything his mates need him to.

He wanted to be the male his mates needed.

“I wanted-“ he began, searching the room for his next words, as if they would be written out on your wardrobe or the painting behind your head. He tightened his hand into a fist, the scars nearly turning white as he looked at you head on.

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to nearly die saving me.”

“I would have done it for anyone else.” The second the words left your lips, you knew Azriel wouldn’t believe them. He always knew when you were lying somehow, as if the mating bond gave him some unfair advantage to your heart and motivations.

Azriel only nodded, not fighting you on the lie. You watched him suspiciously, watched his chest rising and falling, subconsciously counting his breaths.

“Are you tired?”

He looked anguished, like he carried a deep hunger and no meal was enough to sustain him, let alone nourish him.

“No.”

“Nesta said you needed more rest.”

“Nesta lies when it suits her.”

An awkward silence settled over the two of you, weighing you down further into the bed. You took a deep breath, propping yourself up on your elbows until you reached a sitting position. You knew what you had to do, what you had to say. It wouldn’t get easier the longer this went on. Azriel moved to your side, moving pillows to give you a proper cushion and to help prop you up.

“We should talk, Az.” He looked over you, the pillows abandoned as all of his attention was focused on you. You held your hands in your lap, wringing them for every ounce of courage they contained to get through this conversation. Your stomach churned with dread, the thread around your heart trying to stop you from saying what you had to.

“When you were injured, because of me, I decided it’s not fair to you or me to keep dragging this out. We should end things.” You looked at your hands, proud you had gotten the words out without stuttering or breaking. You swallowed harshly, your throat dry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach for the water on your nightstand.

Quiet surrounded you, a stillness you hadn’t expected from this conversation. There were no shouts or sobs, no frustration sitting in your chest. No relief or songs of praise at being free.

Just silence. Like you had made him incapable of thought or feeling with those words.

“Is that what you want? Or is that what you think I want?” His words startled you, and you finally looked up to find a layer of rage coating his face. He had come closer while you were looking elsewhere, finally being in the room, allowing himself in the narrative.

Finally taking charge.

“Isn’t it? What’s the point in having a mate who doesn’t want you?” Your words had an immediate effect on him, the male before you rubbing his hands on his face. One of his shadows hooks around his fingers, trying to pry them away, to make him seen. Another one swirls his ear, and you can’t discern it, but you hear a light buzzing from it.

He sits in the chair next to your bed before quickly getting back up and grabbing one of your clammy hands.

“I have not been good to you or Eris. This is hard, okay? No one has ever had this happen and I didn’t want either of you hurt.”

You scoffed, trying to pull your hand away, but he held it tighter. The textured grooves of his skin were more prominent as he held you. “Bit late for that.”

“Please. Please, give me more time. Give me a chance. Maybe we can figure something out, some kind of arrangement.” He was desperate, a pleading voice you had never heard from him. Was this how criminals of the Night Court looked to him, pleading at the ends of their lives for just one more chance?

“An arrangement?”

“I don’t know, okay? I’m not sure what to do when I have two mates who I care about who also hate each other and they both currently hate me.” He paused, chest heaving. His hazel eyes looked so lost, so unsure. “Not to mention someone out there knows about us or about us being out there. I haven’t been able to figure it out, haven’t been able to figure any of this out.”

The end of his sentence tapered off into his spymaster voice. A tone full of obsession and getting to the root of things, a dogged voice of determination.

“Please, let me take care of you. If not as your mate, as your friend. I care so deeply about you and you are where all my thoughts have been the past few days.”

“What of Eris?” Azriel used to recoil at the mention of his other mate, his name so foreign on your tongue. Now he showed no change, almost happy to hear it.

“He’s popped in now and then. He’s angry with me for getting hurt.” The mention of it sent you back there. A large, heavy body nearly crushing you in an effort to save you. Hoe you had felt him slump into you, his body giving out, unable to hold himself up any longer.

“Is he upset you shielded me?”

“Eris would be more upset if I shielded him. Autumn males are incredibly proud creatures.”

“As proud as Illyrians?” Your question brought a smirk to his lips, a twitch you knew he couldn’t suppress. You hadn’t seen it in a few weeks, but it felt more like a lifetime since you had a chance to see anything other than impassiveness or pain on his face.

“Almost.” He chuckled, lighthearted and free. A rarity you didn’t take for granted. His smile melted, a more serious, solemn expression overtaking his face. His hazel eyes were a shade full of desperation you knew a little too well.

“Give me time. Please. I’ll handle Eris. Just don’t - don’t reject the bond if you have an ounce of hope this could work. That’s not a sadness I wish to see you carry.”

“Why are you talking to me about this now? You’ve been avoiding this for weeks, Az.”

“I was afraid. I thought if I acknowledged it, I'd be hurting Eris. But I hurt both of you anyway. And I need-” the words die on his tongue, an awkward pause as he searches for the right words without being too vulnerable. “I need to- I needed to.. I don’t know how to do this. To be the male you both need. But I’m here now. I’m here.”

“Are you here because you have to be?”

“No. I want to be here. Let me be here. Let me try.”

Something about him cracked you open inside. In the weeks of this turmoil, the constant push and pull, the uncertainty, Azriel hadn’t looked so open, so vulnerable, so pained. If you spent long enough, you were sure you could map out every regret on his face.

Two roads laid before you. To end it all now, cut off any further heartache. Or you could try, allow Azriel time to figure something out.

He cared for you, you knew that deep inside of you.

With each passing second, your earlier resolve to end things became weaker and weaker, your heart winning the argument with your mind. Perhaps Nesta was right: you were self-destructing. Or was it the mating bond, so loudly swirling in your chest, determined to see itself recognized, even if it meant leading you overboard into frigid waters?

“You may stay. One condition.”

Azriel’s face relaxed, but he still seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, your words only lifting a few pounds off the load.

“You can’t leave at any inconvenient time, can’t just leave or shut me out because things get hard. I am your mate, and if you don’t treat me as an equal, or someone of importance… I’m gone.”

“Of course.” A light tingle gripped you again, less powerful than the magic that had floated around during your deal with Nesta. This time it was more like a light wind disturbing settled dust, spreading it across the both of you. Azriel’s skin almost brightened with the promise, breathing new life into him.

It suited him.

Only, only one taglist: @ssmay123 @scarsandallaz @meritxellao @saltedcoffeescotch @2ooopenbook @wintersquirrel @manicmanuscription @wavegirl @thisishwrworld @tempermentalbookworm @romantasyreader28 @marina468 @i-know-i-can @rcarbo1 @lifesdisasters @tele86 @ireneisbored @yazzzmints @azysmate @bsenpai @curiosandcourioser @elisha-chloe @yasmin-oviedo @that-one-little-soybean @azrielslittledove @stormieandateacup @anon1227 @phoenix666stuff @asahinasstuff @acourtofbatboydreams @anainkandpaper @mother-above @sunshinedayz19 @bibliophilr @famousprincesscollector @calamislunafox @dnfhascorruptedme @blightyblinders @l11lll1th @cabbageisdead @love-over-fears @paintedbyshadows @azzydaddy @kbear8863 @luxlingbabe @the-sweet-psycho @whyucloudingmymind @lets-talk-about-xyz @slytherin-pen @krowiathemythologynerd @ailoda @fourthwing4ever @anehempel

[halfahundredcats]

It’s interesting how, when complaints like these arise, they always seem to be directed at books written and read primarily by women. Romance, chick lit, romantasy, smut, YA books… literally the same criticisms since Jane Austen and her fellow “scribbling women” put pen to paper. Remember Jonathan Franzen not wanting “The Corrections” to be an Oprah’s Book Club selection? Aside from the occasional obligatory James Patterson shade (which I primarily see from other library/bookstore employees who mostly just want him leave some shelf space for other ppl), I don’t come across a lot of folks wringing their hands about people who exclusively read formulaic action thrillers or mysteries. Funny, that.

Re: the possibility that YA’s demographic is trending older, I don’t *completely* disagree. YA has exploded since I was a teen, and many of the books are more interesting and better-written than what was on offer in the ‘90s. There’s enough quality YA that it makes sense some adults want to read it. I’ve personally read a lot of queer YA because I came out late, and the vast (vast, VAST) majority of fiction about coming to terms with your sexuality is about teens and young adults (coming out “late” in fiction usually means a protagonist who’s like 27, and sometimes that feels weirdly *less* relatable somehow?). At any rate, there’s this sort of blurry area now of “new adult” which I suppose is meant to bridge that gap for people ostensibly “aging out” of YA. “Fourth Wing” (which is *not* shelved as YA, at least not in my library btw) could maybe be considered New Adult fantasy.

Here’s the thing: people are allowed to read whatever the fuck they want, forever. They can read for entertainment, they can read for education, they can read for something to wank to. They can read literary classics. They can read nonfiction. They can read children’s mystery stories (The Westing Game still holds up), they can read books they heard about on NPR, they can read books they heard about on TikTok. They can even read James Patterson. Plenty of people read across genres and age levels. They read an escapist fantasy and then they read something that won the Booker. They read a book about current events and then they read a series mystery. But even if they don’t. If all they ever read is Tom Clancy or Nora Roberts or Stephen King or manga or the latest “BookTok Sensation” — I don’t care. Do I have my own opinions about what constitutes worthwhile or quality reading? Absolutely. But those opinions will be forever superseded by my steadfast belief that it’s better for people to be reading than not, that it’s none of my business what they choose to read, and that what they read is not necessarily a reflection of what else they are doing or thinking about. Maybe someone’s a tireless activist and wants to unwind with something fluffy. Maybe they’re depressed, and the only thing they can concentrate on is cozy tea shop mysteries. And if someone is simply a “basic bitch” who wants to read Colleen Hoover or whoever…I also don’t care. They don’t need to justify that to me or anyone else.

There’s a worthwhile discussion to be had about publishing trends (by people who know more about that side of books than I do), but there’s no worthwhile reason to shame people for their reading tastes.

god this is so fucking pathetic. i'm embarrassed out of my mind to share a generation with these losers.

[nitadllyss]

Cutness agression ɞ

Hyunjin x reader

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, Extremely Sweet!

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

Hyunjin has a serious problem with cute aggression, especially when it comes to you.

• For example, in the mornings

"Good morninggg" you said without opening your eyes, still half asleep, smiling when you woke up feeling Hyunjin hugging you.

"AHH, HOW CAN YOU BE SO CUTE?!" Hyunjin felt like the luckiest person in the world for having you as the first thing he saw when he woke up. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and started showering you with kisses all over your face.

"Hyunjin, wait" you said between laughs, trying to pretend you were annoyed.

"Why?" Five kisses on your right cheek. "How can you be that...?" Another three kisses on your left cheek. "Freaking gorgeous." Lots and lots of sweet kisses on your lips.

When he finally let you go, you were dazed from the overwhelming amount of aggressive affection he had just given you.

"You’re so weird..." you gave him a look, but the smile on your lips betrayed you.

• Or at breakfast

You were eating together while watching a drama.

You were so focused on how the characters were fighting over the female lead, dipping your cookies in milk without even looking and bringing them to your mouth, surprised by the plot twist.

Hyunjin felt like he was going to die from love.

He started making whiny noises, making you look at him immediately.

"Babe, what’s wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I’m going to cry because you’re so cute" he laughed while trying to continue his fake crying act.

You rolled your eyes.

"I literally didn’t do anything..." you said, not understanding his reaction.

"That’s why I want to cry! How can you look so cute doing literally nothing? I hatelove you so much."

Before you could escape, he hugged you from behind, holding you tightly while kissing your neck.

• Also, when you smile

That day, Hyunjin had brought you flowers without reason. When he gave them to you, you thanked him and smiled.

Big mistake.

"HYUNJIN, ARE YOU CRAZY?" you ran for your life. Hyunjin had just whispered, "I’m going to bite your cheeks off." What was wrong with him??

"Come on, please! I need to vent. You can’t smile that cutely and expect me not to want to bite your cheeks" he pouted while following you. He caught up to you.

"Hyunjin, what the hell…?" You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was so in love it was starting to get weird.

Then he began to gently bite your cheeks, leaving sweet kisses on them afterward.

• Let’s not forget when you wear his hoodie

After taking a shower, you went for the coziest outfit you could find to stay at home. That warm hoodie of Hyunjin’s looked so inviting, so you put it on.

"Are you trying to kill me...?" he murmured with wide, deer-like eyes, mouth slightly open, looking you up and down.

"Huh?" you looked at him confused.

You blinked, and he was already messing up your hair.

"AHGGG!! You look so cute. Keep all my clothes if you want" he genuinely looked like he was about to explode.

At first, you fought him off, but in the end, you just gave up.

• When you sleep

Hyunjin got home late from work, exhausted and missing you. He opened the door and nearly cried from love.

You were sleeping on the couch, hugging a Jiniret, your mouth slightly open, your lashes pointing down, a little drool at the corner of your lips, your hair beautifully messy.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d kill him for waking you up, he would have already been on top of you, hugging you and not letting go.

He doesn’t know how, but he restrained himself. He just took a picture and set it as his wallpaper.

• But when you’re doing nothing, that’s his favorite

You were watching TikTok on the couch when, out of nowhere, you felt Hyunjin’s weight crushing you.

"AABSSBSBAHJABABAHAJABABW" he babbled nonsense and started biting your arm.

"Bro, wtf?" you looked at him amused. "Can you explain what’s happening now?" you raised an eyebrow.

"BSBSNDBANZ" he responded, then began kissing your face desperately.

"I just hope you don’t have rabies…"

( There are thousands of situations like this, but it would be an infinite post)

•When you’re cooking and he comes up behind you, trapping you and leaving you no way to escape while hugging you.

•When he sees you doing your makeup and can’t resist kissing your lips carelessly, just because your lipstick made him fall in love and he needs to have that pink from YOUR lips.

•When you come out of the shower and he grabs your cheeks for at least 10 minutes, making your face turn red.

•When you sneeze and he swears you’re a kitten. When you wrinkle your nose, he probably fainted.

•Etc.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know. 🙏🏻

I'm just a girl in love with Hyunjin and his cute aggression attacks. 😭🫠

[wonweige]

I want to see more of the princess's life on being a reminder of someone everyone lost! Maybe she acts like them unknowingly and Mydei is getting more overprotective cause of it!

❝ 185139144 ❞ ✶ but I see her in the back of my mind all the time ! ; not proofread — ignore typos </3 ++ reader (gn!) referred to as ‘you + parent + beloved’ (reader is NOT the little princess)

low-key feel like i didn't do this req justice erm </3 if you want me to redo this just tell me and i will !!

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who can feel the watchful eyes of guards no matter where she goes. her small hand clings to the skirt of her governess/nanny as they walk through the market, her expression not showing how she was slightly unsettled and also exasperated. seriously, did she really need guards watching over her 24/7 from the shadows? it was bad enough her uncle phainon constantly popped up out of nowhere and- oh, there he is now.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who deadpans comically as her father enters her room for the umpteenth time that day, checking up on her and making sure she was safe and unharmed. she hadn't even left her room for half of the day, simply playing with the many toys her father had gifted her with, and here MYDEI was, fussing over her like she had been battling nikador himself.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who finds herself staring at the painting of her parent more and more, finding the resemblance between her and them a bit... uncanny. down to the even the smallest curve of the face. she really was a carbon copy of them.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who has been sleeping next to her dad for a while now.. she thinks he's been having nightmares, but she can't really be sure because her father isn't the type of guy to want company while he sleeps just because he's been having nightmares. still, every night, he either goes to her room or she goes to his and he holds her in his strong arms like she'd vanish if he let go.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who likes watching her father train and spar with others. she'll sit to the side, her uncle phainon next to her in case anything went wrong, and cheer on her father with a dazzling smile on her features, confident he'll win because he's the crowned prince and her super strong dad who could take on the entire galaxy if he wanted to!

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who does not know how MYDEI's heart feels heavy as he hears her cheer him on from the sides, her words the exact same as his late beloved's. it's almost enough to make him lose his focus.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who adores the same food as you. it even has to be prepared the exact same way or else she won't even spare it a single glance. much to her delight, it seems that everyone she asks knows how to make it exactly to her liking, telling her that they've made it a million times before. she does her best to ignore how the people that prepared the dish look at her with looks of nostalgia.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who notices how her outings with her governess/nanny grow less frequent and her outings with her father grow more frequent. not that she's complaining! she loves spending time with her father, especially because he can never say no to her and spoils her rotten even if it's unintentional. she doesn't like how she can't run off, though.. her father always holds her hand or carries her when they're out.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who gives an unamused look to her father as he squints with disapproval whenever a boy talks to her. "daddy, he was just asking me where the nearest bathroom was." "he should've asked someone else." "..."

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who is adored by the people. who wouldn't love her? sure, she may be a bit bossy at times, but she always wants the best for those around her. such a smart little girl.

── .✦ THE LITTLE PRINCESS, who can't help but giggle as her father leaves their daddy-daughter tea party, pretty [color] bows in his hair, to attend a meeting. nobody would dare say a thing to MYDEI, however, because who would dare question the crowned prince? (phainon did not let it go, however.)

[zinflo]

YOU PLAY TOO MUCH ⚅ 🀟

FEATURING ᯓ★ Seishiro Nagi x f!reader

SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ As usual, Nagi's attention is on his game rather than you and it's meant to be bonding time. But the mention of going 'a couple rounds' with you in bed catches you off guard...

CONTENT ᯓ★ 18+ (minors DNI) College AU! Boyfriend! Nagi, Reo Mikage feature (not part of the main plot), dry humping, unprotected sex, praising, spit kink/mention of spit? Masturbation, creampie, choking, nipple play, petnames (angel + good girl), spanking, cowgirl position, doggy position/backshots

Wc ᯓ★ 2.9k

‘Typical’.

You thought to yourself as you sat on the edge of the bed and watched your boyfriend, Nagi, play his usual games on his phone. With the raindrops from outside crashing down on the windows and the wind howling through the trees, it clarified why you and Nagi were inside his dorm room rather than going out for the evening together, following a day of separate classes.

But the weather wasn't what annoyed you. What really annoyed you was that every time you were with Nagi, he always seemed to be focused on his phone and playing games all the damn time—and today is no exception.

His facial expression was now focused and serious, lying flat on the bed as he tapped away on his phone, playing one of his games as usual. You finally had enough and wanted to give him a piece of your mind.

"Nagi! What was the point of coming to your dorm if you're just going to be playing your damn-."

Your nagging words that were shot at him were abruptly interrupted as he pulled you closer. You were once sitting on the edge of the bed, now straddling his lap, with your legs on either side of him.

"Hold on, I'm going to play one more round. Then... I'll play a couple rounds with you, in bed." He responded with a deadpan expression on his face before resuming back to his game.

You were too stunned to speak, a pink shade dusting over your cheeks as your face became warm.

For a quick second, Nagi's eyes averted from the screen of his game to you. He took note of your instant blushing after his remark and chuckled softly, one hand of his now gently gripping your hip while his other continued taking control of his game.

"You know when I'm playin' games, you don't need to whine so much, I can still pay attention to you." He said nonchalantly before returning his gaze to the game in his hand, his other that was placed on your hip also returned to the game.

You might've been slightly flustered by his words and actions towards you but that still wasn't enough. You needed more and his attention was what you needed.

And that's when you began to slowly but steadily grind on his manhood that was protected by the fabric of his grey oversized joggers. You noticed now that he was becoming distracted as he kept stealing glances at you as he was playing his game.

"When you sit on my lap like this, don't you know how much I want to just take you right now-" He paused in his sentence as he felt your soft hands lay flat on his lean muscular chest and continued to grind on him.

You could feel his bulge rising like a mountain that was extremely hard now, making you moan softly as you could now feel his hardened bulge hitting your core each time you moved your hips. You were going at such an agonisingly slow pace that your panties that were hidden under your skirt were becoming moist.

He let out a low moan, now finally coming to the realisation that he couldn't keep focusing on his game when you were doing this to him. Nagi placed his phone on his side and wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting on your hips as he lay there on the bed.

"If you keep on doin' that, I won't be able to continue the game." 

"Well, maybe I want you to stop playing your game~." You replied in a breathy whisper, leaning closer to him until your face was a few centimetres from his.

"... You've got my attention."

You resumed back to moving your hips against his lap but this time you went at a quicker pace, showing him just how badly you needed him. Meanwhile, Nagi tugged on the fabric of his hoodie until it was discarded into the unknown, revealing his lean muscular build that you admired so much.

The sight of his now growing and hardened bulge was almost making you salivate. Without hesitation, you slightly slipped down his grey joggers along with his boxers and his tall manhood came to life.

You were about to adjust yourself so you could lean down to give him a blowjob but that was when he stopped you by raising his hand to grab your chin so your gaze was on him.

"Just spit on my hand. I love your blow jobs but fuck, that's a hassle right now. I can't wait any longer—I need you now."

His words trailed off his lips in a husky and possessive tone that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed and when he let go of your chin and lifted his hand open, a string of saliva fell from your lips and plopped down on the palm of his hand.

He smirked at your actions and began to wrap his calloused hand around his shaft, pumping up and down at a fast pace as he was getting more turned on by the second.

"Such a good girl for me, huh~?" Nagi grunted out in a husky tone as his eyes were clouded with lust and desire. The sight of him pleasuring himself with his grey half-lidded eyes fixed on you made you even more aroused.

In a swift motion, you slipped off your black panties and t-shirt, throwing them to the other side of the bedroom as your skirt and bra remained on. Nagi's dick was now coated with your slick saliva by the time he was done pumping himself. And without warning, he tightly gripped onto your hips and lifted you before penetrating your wet pussy down on his large dick.

"F-Fuck, N-Nagi~!" You moaned out loud, a mixture of shock and pleasure overwhelming your body since he caught you off guard. As you went further down, your pussy tightly surrounded his throbbing shaft.

"Mmm, my bad, angel~." He groaned out huskily as he began to move his hips upwards, his dick pounding up into you from below. "I just couldn't help myself~."

A shiver trickled down your spine, loving the nickname he gave you which caused your cheeks to become warm. But as he pushed his length into your cunt further and began to fasten his pace with his thrusts, you were nothing but a moaning and panting mess.

Loud moans and gasps escaped your lips as he pounded into your sensitive cunt nonstop, taking you to the edge of ecstasy. You began to match his pace by bouncing on his dick, a wave of pleasure hitting you each time you went up and down his cock.

His movements became more urgent and intense, digging his nails into your hips tightly to steady his harsh thrusting. However, with one of his hands, he reached behind your bra strap and unclasped it, tugging it off your shoulders and down your arms to reveal your plush breasts.

"So tight as always, fuck~," Nagi growled out through gritted teeth, a slight smirk plastered on his face as he watched how much of a mess you were becoming.

Your chest was rising and falling nonstop, your crimson-shaded cheeks heating up and the way your coloured orbs disappeared to the back of your head was a sight that made him want to fuck you for hours on end.

He raised his hand from your hip to your bare back, pulling you down towards him as he caught your lips in a hungry yet passionate kiss. His tongue traced over your delicate lips, hinting to slide inside your mouth and your lips became agape.

Nagi smirked against your lips when he felt you obliged and instantly slipped his tongue inside the moist cavern. Soft gasps fell out of your lips as his tongue wrestled with yours, your bouncing became ragged since you were so lost in the heated kiss.

He toys with your perky chest, occasionally fiddling with your firm buds that cause you to gasp out loudly. You were very thankful that Nagi's roommate and best friend, Reo, wasn't home since you could be as loud as you wanted. As loud as Nagi wants.

His thrusting and your bouncing came to a decline as he fixated on your firm buds and how sensitive you got when he toyed with them. Both hands were in unison as they were glued to your plush chests, his index finger and his thumb closing in on your nipples before kneading harshly between them.

"N-Nagi!" You whimpered, shivers running down your spine as your body trembled uncontrollably. "Stop being a tease-".

Your weak protests were cut short when you felt his left hand let go of your breast and raise his hand to connect a sharp spank on your ass, causing you to yelp out.

"I can't help but play with your tits, angel. Just touchin' them makes me wanna fuck you senseless... I know you love it when I nibble on them, huh?"

His moist tongue lapped over his narrow lips before tilting his head forward to your free chest, leaving nothing but soft damp pecks around until he reached your bud. He gently circled it with his tongue, all the while his other hand that was placed on your ass cheek was now gripping ever so harshly as it was hidden perfectly under your black skirt.

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't love it when he sucked your tits because you certainly did. He was skilful when it came to his mouth, always sending you the same waves of pleasure throughout your body with heated kisses, kissing you all over your body and even eating you out. You were addicted just as much as he was.

You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, making you groan softly as you missed the feeling of the harsh thrusts hitting your throbbing pussy. Nagi's ears perked up when a soft groan escaped your lips, his teeth sinking into your nipple and making a 'pop' sound once he pulled away.

"Hm? You're bein’ needy again, angel. You want more, huh?" All you could do was bite your lip and simply nod, grinding your hips into his as your walls took his size well as always.

He resisted the urge to buck his hips up into you and instead smirked slightly at your response. His hand reached up to your neck, his fingers enclosing around it until he firmly gripped it and held it in place. His fingers squeezed tighter around your neck but he made sure to never get to a point where he was cutting off your airflow.

"Get on all fours and stay there all pretty for me while I take care of you." His words fell from his lips so gently yet, they still somehow made your whole body tremble nonstop and your pussy throb excessively around his veiny shaft.

He took note of the way your body reacted to his words and took it upon himself to make the move himself. His hand was released from your neck and his strong arms moved, lifting you off his dick until he flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing. Whines escaped your lips but Nagi was already behind you, those silver eyes of his travelling from your bareback to your black pleated skirt that barely concealed your plump ass.

"Arch for me." He didn't need to tell you twice. Your body moved on its own, pushing your hips back and arching your back—presenting yourself to him. You didn't need to bop your head to the side to know that Nagi was practically ogling at your new position for him to fuck you senseless in.

"Fuck," his firm yet gentle hand traced your spine, sending waves of pleasure through your body until he arrived at the hem of your skirt. "I'm too fuckin' hard for this... shit."

His hand swooped down to grip his twitching cock, positioning himself behind your arched figure as his tip was pressed against your clit before it was pressed at the lining of your folds. Heavy breathing and whimpers were all you could respond to, shutting your eyes tight and gripping the bed sheets for dear life.

"Shhh shhh. Like I said before, just stay there being all pretty while I take care of you... and continue to make up for the attention I didn't give you earlier, hm?"

He wasn't even giving your poor, flustered and heated mind time to process his words, feeling his tip squeezing in between the folds of your pussy until his whole shaft was slowly burying itself inside.

"Mmm-Hmph, N-Nagi!" You hissed out through gritted teeth, your nails gripping tighter onto the sheets than before as the arch of your ass was raised higher, which benefited Nagi more with the fucking he was about to put you in with the angle you were at.

His large hands travelled to your hips the moment his dick found its destination in your throbbing pussy. One hand on your hip and the other on the hem of your skirt for support caused his hips to pull back, the tip remaining inside before he rolled his hips forward, grounding himself in one smooth thrust.

The fullness makes you cry out and arch your back further, your soft ass now bouncing on his pelvis causing Nagi to hiss through gritted teeth and only encouraging him to pound his cock deeper in you.

"Just like that angel," his veiny shaft glides in and out your moist and sensitive folds, the grip on the hem of your skirt caused Nagi's nails to almost leave dents on the fabric as he kept pulling it back so your ass cheeks could meet his groin area every single time. "Keep on just doin' that over and over."

Thwap, thwap, thwap.

Those slick noises from the pounding you in doggy style, along with your sweet cries and the creaking on the dorm mattress —were music to Nagi's ears as his head fell backwards. He tilts his head back to its original place and watches you swallow his cock over and over, his tip twitching with that urge to finally cum.

"Fucks sake, Nagi!" You cry, feeling his dick grow bigger in you as his release was soon coming. "I-I really- fuck! Gonna cum!"

"God, same here angel. Be good for me and just let it out."

And you do, clamping against his cock as your orgasm hits you, white and sticky fluids trickling out of your sensitive hole and down Nagi's cock. He's twitching inside of you and another soft moan escapes from you.

"S-Shit, pull out Nagi-" Too late.

He curses to himself as he forcefully shuts his eyes, white spots splattering beneath his eyelids and cum bullying you up. You whimper softly as he pumps you up with his load, fisting the bedsheets beneath you as your body shakes.

That idiot. Your damn boyfriend had one job and completely fucked up with not pulling out in time.

He finally slips his now soft dick out of you, causing the both of you to groan in harmony as he fell on top of you, his bare chest pressed against your back.

"N-Nagi! You didn't even pull out in-"

"Oh quit your yappin'." His face was inches away from yours and he took the opportunity to tilt your head to the side and catch your lips in a slow, lazy yet affectionate kiss. You wanted to object and push him away but it was too late — he had you wrapped around his finger.

His lips slowly pressed onto yours a couple of times, chests heaving as the both of you are still trying to catch your breaths. God, it's so hard to be annoyed at him when he's such a good kisser.

"I'll head out tomorrow and buy the mornin' after pill for you," he murmured against your lips before leaving another soft peck. "So you don't need to stress about having to birth mini versions of me anytime soon because that would be a damn hassle."

You couldn't help but snort at his comment, playfully rolling your eyes before nodding to his reassurance. You guys were still college students and certainly didn't need to be young parents any time soon. Your body moved to rest your back against the soft mattress as you gazed up at your breathless boyfriend who had his silver eyes glued onto yours like a predator.

"Y'know..." he started, his big hand tracing from your bare chest to your inner thigh, his fingers hooking around the plush of it before squeezing firmly. "It's a good thing that Reo is away and it's just us two. All alone and we can go round for round."

"So loud and so wrong Nagi, loud especially from both you and your little girlfriend."

Eyes shot wide like the moon from both you and Nagi when you heard the familiar voice of Nagi's purple haired best friend, Reo who was smirking widely and snickering from the other side of the door. Your face flushed furiously, causing you to hide your embarrassed state in the crook of Nagi's neck while he wrapped his strong arms around you. He glared at the door that concealed Reo's figure and was already plotting how to get back at him.

[priisprii]

Gentleman - Joshua

Summary: Your gentleman boyfriend is freak in the sheets.

Warnings: dom!Joshua x fem reader, unprotected sex, fingering, spit kink, penetrative sex, edging, pure filth.

Word count: 1.7 k

Minors don't interact.

Gentleman

That's what your boyfriend pretends to be infront of everyone; an innocent, kind and sweet ball of sunshine, he indeed is gentleman. He's the most considerate and warm human you ever met. Joshua was painfully perfect. But not a single soul would have thought that this sweet-natured honey boy was a whole different person with you in the bedroom. A cruel sadist . His comforting voice somehow becomes more deeper and sexier while he uses it to whisper the dirtiest words possible that leaves you a broken mess in his hold. His long fingers were able to reach the most sensitive corners of your pussy. He was everything you wished for, a caring boyfriend and also a strict dominant to overstimulate you till you beg him to stop. It didn't mean that you didn't feel safe or loved, he had a way of words that made both your heart and pussy skip a beat. It was true that there's a wild side to every innocent face.

" I am not going to touch you unless, you beg sweetheart" Joshua snickered , this was the third time he edged you this night , the sweet torture was beyond your limits, you wanted him to put his glistening fingers back to where they were. He knew you were a little hesitant while voicing out your needs so he always made you cry out what you wanted him to do the most. A literal tease. Your face was a complete mess. Tears falling from your eyes and mouth covered with spit and cum from the recent blowjob you gave your boyfriend.

" Please put —your cock inside me, please daddy", you pleaded him , voice so desperate and shameless, it made Joshua's cock twitch a little.

" Your wish is my command doll", Joshua said as he positioned his one arm on side of your head, his eyes heavy with lust and adoration piercing your soul . He entered his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out a little for his thick dick. Even the slightest touch turned you on, the previous ruined orgasms made your mind mushy, the only thing you were focusing on was how good his fingers rubbed you down there, he curled his them up for a last time before removing them from your needy cunt and cleaning them on your breast and pinching one nipple not to hard, you were blabbering incoherent words. He just gave you a wicked smile before entering his cock inside you, stretching you out in best way possible. Joshua felt he's in heaven, your walls squeezing his cock damn perfectly, he didn't waste any more time before thrusting in and out of in a ferocious speed. That's how he was fast and rough. Skin slapping and filthy moans sound filled the room.

" open your mouth"

"Wider slut" He said as his hand reached against your tear drenched cheek slapping you not in a hard way, the action making your abused pussy throb around him .You opened your mouth as wide as possible. Joshua removed his cock from your pussy and entered his fingers inside you , twisting, curling and scissoring them in the most brutal yet pleasurable way possible. You knew what exactly he was doing. He collected both of yours as much as wetness and precum possible before he placed his fingers inside his mouth and then went down on you passing down the spit and precum from his mouth to yours. The mixture directly went on your tongue, it felt so filthy yet good. So fucking messy, This was Hong Joshua. He could have also done this after Cumming inside you but he preferred to look at the best view while he fucked your brains out . he always somehow finds new way to make the sex sinful and dirty as much as possible. He enjoyed watching his girlfriend being like a actress straight from porn so vulnerable and fucked out.

" Swallow", Joshua said while he admired you, watching the mixture of liquid pooling inside your mouth. You swallowed eagerly after his command. You looked at him with Blurry doe eyes admiring every detail of him.

" Good girl", he said and moved his hand on top of your head patting you softly before entering himself inside your fluttering cunt again. His pace again the same fast and deep. You whimpered below him, feeling so full and cloudy.

" Who owns you ?" Joshua rasped out in your ears dangerously, the possessive side of him coming out.

" you, you--" you said breathlessly as you grabbed his shoulders for support. Upon hearing you Joshua was beyond satisfied. You were his and he was yours that's what that mattered. His hands roamed on your body hips, thighs breast neck everywhere , he was really touching like he owned every single part of you, that made you feel some type of way, butterflies exploding inside your stomach. Your orgasm was close, Joshua felt you tightening around him , your toes curling due to indescribable heavenly pleasure.

" I want to cum", you said, your words coming out broken and weak. He was close to his high too.

" my pathetic slut, can't even beg properly." Joshua mocked your broken state with full pride, knowing that only he was able to see you so fucked out and vulnerable and only he can make you feel so good. He grabbed you by hair and let you in a passionate hungry kiss, pushing his tongue further down your mouth, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips from his force, his kisses were dangerous for you . He wrapped your left leg around his waist while while he gave you the permission to cum around him.

With a high pitched moan you let your orgasm ripped through you, you felt like being on cloud nine. Squeaky sounds becaming more audible as Joshua was still fucking you out while you ride down your high, the overstimulation making you dizzy. With few final thrusts he cummed inside you, his warm cum painting your walls, the feeling was amazing, after fully empting himself while being still inside you, he slowly moved his hips trying to shove the liquid as deep as possible his hand reached yours , intervening and kissing each other with now just pure love. He looked down at your both connecting sexes feeling proud and simply happy.

He plopped down beside you and embraced you so lovingly moving his hands on your head and stomach, he snuggled in your neck and left soft kisses behind.

" you okay baby? " , Joshua asked you softly while playing with your hair.

"I am", you said voice weak due to screaming and moaning so much.

"you're breathtaking" Joshua whispered preping your cheeks with kisses.

" let's quickly have a shower baby, tomorrow I need to make red velvet cake for you , Joshua said in an enthusiastic tone, sounding just like a child. My sweet cinnamon boyfriend.

A/N : I miss my shua guys

[takaraphoenix]

My favorite part about GIF making is taking apart the interactions. Really getting to see moments that are over in the blink of an eye and overthinking them in my head.

I adore the parking garage scene, like probably every Steter shipper. There are so many good moments here, some big ones that have been rotating in my brain on repeat but also smaller ones that I had missed because they were over so quickly.

The following is a mix of both. Just everything about the parking garage that brings me joy, with running commentary that would be too much in the finished GIF set.

Why are you leaning against him, Stiles? Why is your arm on Peter? He just kidnapped you and is currently showing you the dead body of his nurse, why are you leaning against his shoulder?

Did you have to lean real close to whisper into his ear, Peter? Was that necessary? While you already had him bend over a car?

I'll never get over the sassy eyebrow and the exasperated eyeroll. What kind of exchange is this, in a hostage situation.

Yes, Peter, we know this and we love your for this.

The fact that Peter not only offers the bite, instead of forcing it, but that he goes out of his way to explain to Stiles that it could indeed kill him is something that has me in a vice grip.

Just the visual of them holding hands <3 Very important, needs to be included here <3

THREE TIMES. He asks for consent three times. He asks if Stiles wants the bite, when Stiles is too baffled to react, he asks again, and then when he has Stiles' wrist so close to his teeth, he asks a third time.

And when Stiles doesn't verbally reply, he keeps staring at him for multiple moments, making eye-contact with Stiles to check if he is declining, before he even just drops his fangs.

I just can't stress enough that this happens directly after we find his dead nurse in the trunk of his car, right after he had mauled Lydia and left her on the lacrosse field. He kills and maims and hurts uncaring, but he asks for consent, repeatedly, and when he is rejected, he allows it. Because he's a werewolf, he just bent Stiles' metal keys like they were made of paper; if he didn't allow it then Stiles wouldn't have been able to pull free from his grip.

And the face of disappointment and rejection after. Absolutely kills me.

But he accepts it and just... leaves Stiles, completely unharmed.

And this is Stiles' reaction to him leaving and it also kills me. Because Stiles audibly gasps, and he jerks forward, like he wants to stop Peter, opening his mouth to speak but closing it before saying a word.

How was I ever supposed to be normal about this ship...?

[s4svnn]

first big argument of oub couple pls!!!

Shower (teaser)

Your stubbornness is part of what brought you together—it’s a fire that keeps things passionate and exciting. But at times, it can also be exhausting, especially when neither of you is willing to admit fault because of your pride. Arguments can escalate quickly, with both of you refusing to back down each determined to prove a point, so when things heat up maybe the best way to cool off is together…in the shower.

Pairing: F1 racer Jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut (18+)

Warnings/content tags: couples argument, egos, stubbornness, slapping, unprotected sex, rough sex, degradation kink, hair pulling, boob play, fingering, mirror sex, back shots, orgasm denial, sub + dom dynamic, spanking

The door slammed shut behind us with a force that rattled the walls, the echo reverberating through the tense silence. My heart pounded against my ribs, my breaths coming in uneven gasps still heated from the argument that had started long before we even reached his house.

The air between us was thick with unspoken words, the weight of frustration pressing down on my chest. The dim glow from the entryway lights cast jagged shadows across Jungkook’s sharp features, emphasizing the tight clench of his jaw and the flicker of something dark in his eyes. His fists were curled at his sides, his posture rigid, as his entire body radiated barely restrained frustration.

"He likes you. I can tell."

I spun around so fast my hair whipped over my shoulder, my blood boiling at the audacity of his words. My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I glared at him.

"No, he doesn’t! We’re just friends!"

Jungkook exhaled sharply, the sound more of a scoff than a sigh, his lips twitching in something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t entirely devoid of amusement either. His head tilted slightly, the way it always did when he didn’t believe a single word coming out of my mouth, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as if he was holding back the urge to laugh at my denial.

"You really believe that?" he asked, his voice slow and skeptical, every syllable laced with quiet challenge.

I folded my arms across my chest, planting my feet firmly against the floor as I met his gaze with unwavering defiance, refusing to let him intimidate me. "Yes, because it’s the truth," I said, my voice steadier now.

Jungkook took a step forward, closing the distance between us just slightly, but enough for the air to shift, enough for the space between us to feel too small, too charged. The weight of his presence was suffocating, the intensity in his gaze making my pulse pound harder, though I refused to let him see the effect he had on me.

"People don’t look at their friends like that, Aylah," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, almost like a warning. "He looks at you like he wants to eat you alive."

A sharp, incredulous laugh burst from my lips, my head shaking as I fought the urge to scream at how ridiculous this entire conversation was. "I told you, he doesn’t like me!" I repeated, my voice rising in frustration. "And even if he did, I don’t like him!"

That should have been the end of it. That should have been enough. But of course, with Jungkook it never was, he just had to get the last word.

Before I could take a step back and create even an inch of space between us, he moved faster, quicker than I could react. His arms came up in an instant, trapping me between them, his hands pressing against the couch behind me as my back met the soft fabric. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse spiking as my body suddenly became hyperaware of the heat radiating from him.

"You sure about that?" he murmured, his voice quieter now, softer, but somehow even more dangerous than before. His eyes flickered over my face, searching, watching, waiting for something—an answer, a reaction, a crack in my defense. "I see the way you smile at him."

I scoffed, forcing myself to hold his gaze even though my heart was hammering so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "What, so I can’t smile at people now?" I shot back, my voice sharp, desperate to shift the focus away from the way his words made my stomach twist.

Jungkook exhaled, the sound rough, like he was trying to push down something simmering just beneath the surface. "That’s not what I’m saying," he muttered, his jaw clenching. "It’s just… I don’t trust that guy."

"Wow," I said, my voice dripping with disbelief. "So you don’t trust him, but you trusted Jade?"

His entire body went still. His grip on the couch tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed my words, as they settled into the space between us like a ticking time bomb.

"What did you just say?" His voice was colder now—but I didn’t care.

I held my ground, refusing to flinch under the weight of his stare. "You trusted a bitch like Jade," I said, voice steady, unwavering, my eyes locked onto his. "But you draw the line at my harmless secretary?"

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence, suffocating and heavy.

Then, Jungkook let out a dark, humorless laugh, one that sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn’t amused. It wasn’t light. It was empty, hollow, laced with something almost cruel.

"Like you’re any better," he muttered, his voice laced with venom. His gaze flickered with something dangerous. "You were friends with the guy that tried to kill me."

The words barely registered before my hand moved on its own. The slap echoed through the room, the sharp crack of skin against skin cutting through the heavy silence like a gunshot. Jungkook’s head snapped to the side from the force, his cheek instantly reddening where my palm had struck. My chest heaved, shock rushing through me, overtaking the anger in an instant.

My lips parted, my voice barely above a whisper. "S-Shit, Jungkook, I didn’t mean to—"

Slowly, he turns his head back to face me, his gaze dark and unreadable. The tension in the air thickened as the sound of my pulse hammered in my ears.

Before I could fully register what was happening, his fingers tightened around my wrist, his grip firm and unrelenting as he pulled me forward. A startled gasp slipped past my lips, my feet barely keeping up as he led me up the stairs with a determination that left no room for hesitation. 

A strange mix of nervousness and excitement twisted in my stomach, making it impossible to tell whether I wanted to pull away or let myself be dragged deeper into whatever this was turning into. The hallway blurred around us, my focus narrowing to the burn of his fingers against my skin and the charged energy radiating off him in waves.

The moment we reached his room, he didn’t stop. With a swift motion, he shoved open the bathroom door and pulled me inside, the sharp sound of the lock clicking into place sending a shiver down my spine. Finally, his grip loosened, my wrist slipping from his grasp. I barely had time to catch my breath, to make sense of the storm raging inside me, before my eyes widened at his next move.

Jungkook reached for the hem of his shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. My breath hitched as the dim bathroom light cast shadows across his toned chest, the slow rise and fall of his breathing making the tension between us all the more unbearable. He took a deliberate step forward, his gaze locked onto mine, dark and unreadable.

"You wanna fight?" he murmured, his voice low.

I swallowed hard, but he didn’t give me time to answer.

He took another step forward, and suddenly there was nowhere left to go, my back meeting the cool tile wall as his presence surrounded me once more. His eyes flickered over my face, watching, waiting.

"Then let’s fight."

[hanafubukki]

When you awoke, there’s a box by your side.

You carefully open it to see…a key?

It was small, made of metal, and green with a symbol you were far too familiar with by now.

“It’s yours.”

You look up, startled to see him awake.

Lilia’s not a morning person, so to see him awake without a fuss? It made you wonder if he was up this entire time waiting for you.

“What’s this key for? Your heart?”

Lilia laughs as he pulls you close.

Covering your hand with his, “Khee hee~ You already have my heart.”

A hand entangled into your hair; thumb loosening the muscles on your neck.

You lean into him as he continues, “You’ve been patient with me, precious.”

You knew the words he meant to say.

He is Lilia Vanrouge.

He’s a fae who loves to play pranks.

He played games well into the mornings.

But he was also a fae with secrets.

One who held wounds deep into his soul.

He might smile and jest, but there are stories he will never tell.

To have that Lilia Vanrouge offer you a key to his room.

A room that would normally be his sanctum.

You know what such a move means.

You might have joked before about the key to his heart, but was the truth so far? When he allowed you free entrance to come and go as you please?

You pressed kisses from his shoulder to his neck before nuzzling under his chin, feeling him slightly tremble from the sensation.

“You are worth the wait.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth and feel it curl upwards.

There’s the smile you love so much.

Beautiful.

He’s a night fae, and you will always adore the way the moon’s light reflects off him.

But the beauty from the rays of morning light is not to be denied either.

His magenta eyes and pink streaks are emphasized, especially now, from the hints of brightness that peaks through his curtains.

His fanged smile radiant, even more so than the sun.

You tighten your hand that’s entwined with his: the one with the key between you.

Cupping his cheek with the other, “Thank you.”

You kiss him.

I love you.

He holds you by the neck, deepening the kiss.

I love you too.

I am still not over that Valentine’s gift as you can tell 💞💞💞

I love the different ways you can say “I love you.” Yes, there’s always words, but been a bit obsessed with the ways you can express them in actions.

And who is Lilia Vanrouge if not a fae of actions? 💞💞🥰🥰

Also it’s funny but my brain never cooperates with me I swear. 😂😂

Me: I want to make a funny and flirty story.

Brain: 😎 no, we go deep feels.

Me: …..fiinnneee 😶😑

I’m rather proud I was able to write kisses without imploding lol