#thank you for 100 notes!

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

I forgot to mention (as you do) I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE AN INTERROGATION SCENE BETWEEN THESE TWO FOREVER (since chapter three maybe?) AND I AM ACTUALLY QUITE PLEASED WITH MYSELF

Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.

Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 

“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”

“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”

“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”

Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.

“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”

“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”

The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.

“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 

Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 

“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 

“I don’t know how that would be poss-”

“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”

“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 

“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”

—

Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.

“We have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.

“Okay so who’s replacing you?”

He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.

Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?

“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.

“Suho what?”

“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.

Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”

He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 

“I never processed it,” he confesses.

“Y-you di-”

“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 

“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“

“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”

“But-“

You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.

Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.

“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 

—

You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 

Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 

The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 

You needed to get this over with. 

Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.

“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.

“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 

You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.

The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 

What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 

“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”

“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 

You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 

“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.

“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 

“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 

He smiles, still staring at you. 

“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 

“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.

“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.

“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”

“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?

“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”

“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.

“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”

“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.

“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”

“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”

You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.

“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 

“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”

“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”

Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 

“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”

You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 

“I’m not done with you,” he growled.

“But I’m done with you.” 

“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”

“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 

“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 

“Fuck you,” you spit. 

“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”

“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”

The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 

“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”

He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”

That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.

You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.

“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.

He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 

You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.

“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”

That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.

“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”

His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.

“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”

“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.

Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.

“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”

You laugh sounding a little maniacal.

“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”

“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.

“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”

He stares at you, grimacing.

“And yet here I am, alive.”

“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.

“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.

“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”

You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.

“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”

He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”

The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.

Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.

“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.

“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”

“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”

“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”

“I asked you not to hurt him!”

“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”

“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.

“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”

His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.

“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”

Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.

You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.

“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.

You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.

When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.

Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.

It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.

You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 

“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 

Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.

Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.

“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.

“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.

The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.

“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.

“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.

Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.

“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”

He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.

“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”

His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 

​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”

The smirk he gives you seems genuine.

“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”

The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.

“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”

The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 

“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.

“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.

“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.

Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 

You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 

“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.

You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 

“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”

He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 

“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 

“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 

You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 

“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”

“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”

That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 

“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 

“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 

“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”

You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.

“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”

“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.

“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 

“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“

“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”

He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.

“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.

“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”

“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”

“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.

“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”

This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 

“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.

You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 

“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 

He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.

“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 

The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 

“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 

His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 

You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 

“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”

Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 

“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”

“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 

You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 

“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 

“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.

You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 

He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 

His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 

“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.

He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.

“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”

You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 

“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”

You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 

“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 

“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”

His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.

“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 

He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.

He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 

“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”

His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.

Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.

“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.

“I know.”

“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”

You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.

“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”

“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”

“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”

His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.

“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.

“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”

“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.

“Old habits die hard.”

“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 

“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”

He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 

“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”

“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 

“You will.”

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[richael2408]

Psycho Mantis: "You like MEN, don't you, Snake?"

Solid Snake, under Mantis' control: "hrrngh... men..."

[w3bgrl]

thank you to everyone who has interacted with this post! i appreciate you <3 <3

90 degrees!

synopsis: hyunjin and jisung, with a habit of arguing, make the poor decision of starting a fight the night before evaluations. not just evaluations - but evaluations for jyp’s new trainee survival show; stray kids. this doesn’t go over well for them, but in hindsight, it was the best decision they could’ve made that day.

date: circa late 2016 to mid 2017

word count: 1.3k

featuring: kang juyeon, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin

warnings: hyunsung being mean to each other

a/n: all members mentioned without shoehorning it in fuck yeah (also not sure how i’m feeling abt this -.- )

it was in the early hours of the morning when juyeon finally said “last time!”

the boys behind her sighed a mixture of relief and distain for their last run of the choreography details before evaluations. they had been polishing it up for hours now and the members honestly couldn’t see a difference in the moves anymore. yet minho, the skilled dancer who stood the closest to her in order to help with monitoring the weak spots, was the only one who actually seemed up for the last round. the rest of the boys were understandably exhausted and ready to be in their beds, but if they wanted to be the trainee group to make the show, they needed to be the best. and being the best took a lot of practice.

“minho, do you want to lead this one?”

the older boy agreed with a toothy grin and took her spot in the middle as she stepped to the side, squatting down to rest her legs while she watched. minho counted them in with the smile lingering on his lips and the second he began to dance a serious look plastered over his previously enthusiastic manner. it was like the choreography just took over - his aura totally changed.

juyeon pulled her eyes from minho’s obvious expertise with hopes that he would help lead future practices and focused for a moment on jeongin, eyeing the sequence he struggled with the most - but the jarring misstep beside him ripped her eyes away.

jisung seemed to have stepped on hyunjin’s foot during their transition and said something to him, resulting in hyunjin saying something back. juyeon huffed. hyunjin had a habit of somehow starting arguments out of nowhere, specifically with jisung. they had a hard time getting along most of the time and had a few altercations in the past, such as the time hyunjin may or may not have ‘accidentally’ spilled his drink on jisung. but because of their frequent quarrels juyeon had gotten good at putting them in their place - especially when they’re doing the last runthrough.

“excuse me.” she used a stronger voice than usual to make sure they heard her but not loud enough to disturb the members actually doing the choreography. however, the arguing pair were too caught up in their tantrum to think about the other people in the room and continued making remarks toward one another.

“i wouldn’t have to dodge you if you could do it correctly” hyunjin snapped

“boys.”

jisung’s lip pulled into a sneer, “oh, yeah, cause you’re such hot shit.”

“better than you, that’s for sure.”

“hey.” juyeon was now speaking in her chest voice, projecting enough that the other members were stealing glances while still trying to keep up with practice.

“at least i can rap! it’s a real good thing you’re pretty because if not you’d be nothing more than a backup dancer your whole career.”

jisung’s retort was finally the last straw, as now she was more angry that they were ignoring her. juyeon stood, and for the the first time ever - even for chan, the members heard her shout.

“hey!!”

the bickering boys whipped their heads in her direction, as did the ones who had been practicing diligently. all eyes were on juyeon as she walked in quick, swift strides to the door, holding it open with an unfaltering glare toward the accused.

“go.”

still steaming from the words exchanged, jisung and hyunjin slumped out the door, hands in pockets and gaze avoiding the older girl. juyeon then shut it behind them swiftly without slamming it on the hinges leaving the rest of the boys with their mouths open.

“i’ve never heard her shout before” changbin muttered

chan sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his thumbs. “me neither”

the boys fell completely silent as they listened in to hear her scolding them. but honestly, the more they tried to listen, the more they couldn’t really hear anything.

“what do you think she’s saying?” seungmin asked openly for anyone who had an answer

“probably laying down the law.” minho chuckled and took a gulp of his water “i wonder if she’ll come back without them.”

silence fell over the room again as they leaned in to listen once more. still, nothing. with a grumble from his stomach, felix pulled his attention from the door and sat on the floor next to his bag with sweat still dripping down his temples. he really never thought he’d ever see juyeon so mad - she was so well-mannered and typically pretty peaceful. all he could think is how relieved he was to not be on the receiving end of her discipline. maybe she wasn’t so scary, but having let her down would be enough in itself.

little did he know - his intuition was stronger than he thought.

juyeon stood wordlessly in front of the younger boys with her arms folded tight against her chest, eyes more annoyed than enraged. babysitting is tough enough, it’s even worse when they’re moody teenage boys.

“noona, i have to look out for him -” juyeon interrupted him.

“i don’t care. i didn’t ask.”

hyunjin’s courage fell along with his gaze and he opted to watch the laces of his shoes instead.

“listen to me.” the older girl spoke with such authority “i don’t care what happened or why it happened, and i also don’t care what your problem is with each other.” she divided her stern glare evenly between them “what i do care about is this team, and there is no room for whatever your problems are. if we make-”

juyeon completely stopped for a second before correcting herself “when we make evaluations tomorrow and go to the show, we are proving to jyp that we deserve to debut together as a team. and when we do, you two will get to be together every minute of every day for at least the next 7 years. so here are your choices: you can either apologize to each other now and resolve your issues by tomorrow, or you can let the trainers know that you will not be attending the evaluation. does that make sense?”

the boys nodded silently with their eyes down, hoping - praying that juyeon would just lighten up a bit. it was very uncommon for her to be this…unfriendly - it was very uncomfortable. she didn’t look like she had this brazenness in her, and yet the younger boys now cowered before her. still, she stood in front of them expectantly.

“well?”

jisung was the first to speak as he hadn’t been directly berated like hyunjin did. “right now? i-in front of you?”

she nodded.

jisung and hyunjin looked at each other with an emotion that couldn’t be described in one word; a mixture of annoyance, cowardice, shame, and regret. in unison they began to say sorry, tipping their heads toward each other in a weak excuse for a bow - at least in juyeon’s book.

“90 degrees”

the boys heeded her word and quickly bent at the waist, the crowns of their heads nearly knocking each other as they bowed.

“thank you.” she let out a breath, the stern look on her face ceasing just a hint. she then nodded toward the practice room “now for them, too.”

the crack of the practice door being opened stopped all the boys in their tracks, halting conversations between the members as they all waited for the culprits to emerge.

jisung entered in front of hyunjin while juyeon stepped off to the side. the humbled boys walked toward the center of the practice room with pink cheeks from embarrassment. they looked akin to puppies with their tails tucked between their legs. together, they bowed - 90 degrees - to the members.

“sorry for how we acted. it won’t happen again.”

the rest of the boys were stagnant until the pair stood back up and all eyes shifted to juyeon who had waited quietly with her hands clasped in front of her. once she noticed everyone looking at her, she bowed as well.

“i’m sorry for yelling. i shouldn’t do that.”

jisung and hyunjin took note of her 90 degree bow.

[borealwrites]

I see your (general) “Kakashi expects children to be half as smart as he was at that age” AU and raise you a “Kakashi thinks children are way dumber than they actually are” AU. His only in-person experiences with pre genin are himself, a year at the academy, and Naruto.

So he’s convinced that Iruka is some kind of god for wrangling 17 half-feral children (and Naruto) into real human beings who can read and write and use chopsticks and deadly weapons. Yes, clan children probably learn a bit before, but still.

Kakashi: can’t believe you taught them almost everything they know

Iruka: I didn’t??

Kakashi: I watched you turn 18 hellions into mostly functional members of society

Iruka: most of my kids were well behaved

Kakashi: they absolutely were not, I once saw baby Shino bite Chouji and Hinata took out Gai’s kneecaps because he stood still long enough for her to catch him

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I started reading Dungeon Meshi last week, became instantly charmed and captivated, and blitzed through the entire manga in 4 days (and changed my profile picture about it). With that in mind, I would just like to say...

I love your dungeon meshi art so so much

CHILCHUCK!!!!!!!!

Thank you kindly! I love Dungeon Meshi a lot, so I'm happy to see so many people get into it for the first time.

CHILCHUCK!!!

[ligh5hog]

Random doodle I made on Christmas Eve :P The sillies

[sonysakura]

🚫 My Sonic Big Bang 2024 Experience

...Or how a few months of my life were severely negatively impacted by someone else's bad management. See for yourself.

Proof of the rule they're speaking about being actively hidden from the participants to this day: FAQ – archived link, screenshot with "Who can participate?" on top, screenshot with "explicit" word search, screenshot with "nsfw" word search; Master Guide – screenshot with "explicit" word search, screenshot with "nsfw" word search; server rules – long screenshots of General Server Rules and StH Big Bang Specific Rules: Mar 12 and Jul 01, screenshots of Strike Policy: Mar 12 and Jul 01, long screenshot of General Guidelines, long screenshot of Collaboration Thread Guidelines.

I feel like this is extremely unfair 😭 One moment I was participating in the event I dreamed about for years, and the next moment I'm thrown out into the cold when I did nothing wrong. I need to get it off my chest...

Below, more about my experience with the event, though it ended up a little vent-y, a detailed (and verified!) record of what exactly happened in private thread #48, the aftermath and some fun facts I discovered or want to share:

First things first! Yep, I signed up for Sonic BB as a Writer back in January. I didn't talk about it outside of my server 'cause I wanted it to be a surprise – when I roll out a lo-o-ong illustrated fic without a warning. I'll admit, I always wanted to participate in a Big Bang for this fandom, it was a dream of sorts. And still, before sending my form in, I carefully read all of the Master Guide and the FAQ both. Seeing as how for my neurodivergent brain the rules and regulations are important, that's what I usually do for events, and this one wasn't an exception. Confident that I understand what the event would require of me, I signed up.

First month of the event went well. My questions were answered (even though I wondered why some of the things I asked couldn't have been in the Master Guide from the beginning), I wrote my fic summary and submitted it without many problems, etc. There was a small hiccup at the very beginning of March when I noticed how strict the management seemed to be (no changes or adjustments allowed), and my anxiety got the best of me, so I asked the mods if there's a plan in case a collab team doesn't work out: screenshot of my message in #writers-info-and-questions, pulled from my Discord data; screenshot of my detailed explanation in DMs; screenshot of Mod Joy's reply. Here are the most important quotes from his reply:

I understand wanting to plan for the worst case scenarios, but I would caution you not to freak yourself out over what all could go wrong! There are some absolutely lovely artists in this event who are excited to work with the writers. Odds are, things will go off without a hitch.

We are highly encouraging that no one drops out after the assignments, especially writers, unless due to extenuating circumstances.

We want to make everything as fun and stress-free for everyone. Know that we will be around to moderate threads and dissolve any tensions that arise,..

In short, I was placated with reassurances of careful moderation, not dropping writers and ✨positivity✨. I decided to stay and challenge myself since originally BB is meant to be a challenge and all...

For those of you who haven't participated: the way it is supposed to go is that writers submit short summaries of their stories, these summaries are stripped of the writers' names and given to artists to pick through. The artists then have to list their Top 10 stories to illustrate during the claims period. After the claims, private collab threads are made for each writer and their artists with a couple of mods. So no one else could see what happens in these threads.

Now flashforward to March 11th and the threads being created. Obviously I don't have screenshots of that due to being kicked off the server without any warning and before any chance of communication, unable to delete my personal information or save anything that might be used against me which was a case of poor management at best and a deliberate move at worst, so I'm retelling as faithfully as possible. It also has been verified by [artist 1] and according to them, this is exactly what happened.

My fic was in the 4-8k range, and I got two artists. I was asleep when the thread opened, and they talked about how excited they are for my fic before I came in. Both of them are 18, young but adults. I’ll call them [artist 1] (they're cool), and the other one is [artist 2]. Both artists seemed to talk to me normally.

Oh, I have to point out that there were hmm, Mods Chaz, Joy, Summers and Frostios in my thread. I think only four of them, but I know for sure Mod Summers was reading our conversation at least in the beginning because I noticed my fic's Warnings saying "None" (the original summary I submitted had Warnings: Discussion of Homophobia, Slight Internalised Homophobia), and I pointed out that there are warnings, though I don't know if they were lost just now or weren't in the sheet available to the Artists either, and whether they were actually lost or mods didn't consider it a big enough warning to keep... I still don't know. Mod Summers just silently pinned my message.

I mentioned how I'm in one of the Asian timezones geographically, so I might be awake or asleep at unconventional times, and they told me their timezones (I didn't ask!), so I figured I can make a timebuddy chart for easy tracking what time it is for everyone. Made one, sent the link to the thread, Mod Summers asked me if I want it pinned, too, and then a couple of hours later (I think?) [artist 1] came and said it's very helpful. This is my evidence for at least Mod Summers probably reading the conversation that followed but also maybe not. I think all of the mods were online or at least visually online when it was happening.

This is where I reveal that the entire conversation happened in like... one afternoon 🥲 Roughly 7 pm to 2 am for me.

Back to the conversation itself. There were a few questions I had so I started with them, basically 1) if they've read my fics before (explained that I'm asking so I know whether I need to tell them about my writing style and Sonadow dynamics I write); 2) do they want me to send in scenes as I write them or they want a full draft; 3) if they have any immediate questions for me. Question 1) is what we need. Both of them said they've never read my stuff before, and that they don't have any questions now but they want art to be as close to text as possible, so they will ask in the future. This is how it went down after (as per my memory, artist rendition I guess):

[artist 1]: I haven't read your fics but I'd like to! Your Ao3 is the same as your handle? [no link]

Me: It isn't a requirement, you don't have to! But that's right. I have to warn you though that I usually rate my Ao3 profile as 18+ when I link it, though 33/36 of my Sonic fics are rated G and T, and I feel like a warning is in order anyway so people don't accidentally stumble upon something they don't want to see and know what to avoid/filter out. [I didn't post any links or encouraged the artists to read my profile, just made a warning to be cautious]

We go into discussion of how long I have been writing, [artist 1] shows no problems with knowing my Ao3 has 3 Mature fics, I describe what series my fic will be for [the series is completely SFW, and even then I didn't post the link to it] and go into details of how I write Sonadow dynamics in my fics without mentioning the NSFW ones obviously, we speak about Question 2).

[artist 2]: [replying to my warning about my Ao3] ooohh so you write gore sometimes?

Me: Nah, I don't actually, I'm pretty uncomfortable with it tbh, so no, I don't. Some blood and a quick description of Maria's dead body is the most I have ever done 😅 All the angst I make characters go through is emotional rather than physical!

[artist 2]: oh I shouldn't have assumed, sorry. It's just the first thing my mind went to

Me: It's okay! I've been a medical student at some point and I think I've just had enough of that - one of the main reasons I'm not a doctor but a linguist.

[artist 1] gets excited about this for some reason, and we chat about it for a moment.

Normal conversation continues like...

Me: Okay, where were we

[artist 2]: i wasn't paying attention errr

Me: Me neither! But it's Question 3)

I go into saying how them wanting to draw as close to the text is 💯 what I wanted to hear because for me my texts are an extension of my soul, I'm fragile about them, and I'd prefer the art to be exactly according to it blah-blah-blah, I describe my thoughts about a plan of work for us and how I'm going to share pieces of my fic according to their respective wishes.

[artist 1]: Sounds great!

[artist 2]: yeah, sounds good

[artist 1] says something else which I just react with an emoji to, and I start getting ready for sleep because it's almost 2 am, and I have to get up at 6 am.

Nothing else was said in the thread. That's it.

I got to bed and as most people nowadays I check my phone one last time. I see [artist 2] requesting a mod they can DM to, but I don't think much of it…

So 6 am. I wake up and again, as most people nowadays, I check my phone. I went to sleep in a good mood, seemingly in good relations with my artists, excited for the collab and having a solid plan everyone agreed to, so I eagerly open Discord to see if they wrote anything new in the thread. I see no Sonic Big Bang 2024 server.

I will not go into too much detail about my state, but I have an extremely acute reaction to stress very similar to a panic attack that lasts for hours. So with shaking fingers I open my DMs to see the message from that first screenshot I started my post with. The following exchange with me learning about the hidden rule happens the next day. Unfortunately, before that I still have to go to work for a full day in that very same mental state, oof. Plus I have no breaks on Tuesday... I go back and forth all day with my friends about how shitty this situation is, and one of them asks me how [artist 1] reacted. I say that I don't know, but they still follow me on Tumblr so I go and message them, and from what they tell me, it sounds like a mod pretended to them that I was removed because of an existing rule that's stated somewhere. They didn't argue with that, and that's understandable of course.

At home, I notice one of the event mods blocked me.

It is difficult to explain what's happening in my mind without going into details of what my [disorders] are, but things that are unfair, things that are injustice put my brain in a loop until all wrongs are righted. I'm ranting about it to friends, and I think about it day and night. On March 14th I vent about it in the tags of a related reblog, and this is the only instance of me talking about StH BB on my blog. Next morning I'm blocked by the event blog and over the next 2 weeks – by two more mods, while another mod speaks to me passively-aggressively in a shared Discord server. Then I'm shown a screenshot where one of the mods claims I offered my Ao3 to my artists (I didn't) and implies everyone who writes NSFW is dangerous. And then I receive a hate ask about the event, calling me "creepy"... All this time, my brain is still stuck in a loop, and let me tell you – it's not fun. It doesn't help that my first reaction to everything that makes me feel bad is always to assume I'm at fault for everything, and seeing how hostile people are to me, I'm drowning in self-blame. Without going into any more detail, it takes me 2 months and a lot of help to somewhat recover, so I finally send my reply to Headmod Chaz and receive one back:

If you got to this part, you know that half of Headmod Chaz's reply is simply untrue since there were no "multiple instances", and in any case I was never asked to keep quiet about my ban (and why should I?). I sent another reply a month later expressing my confusion and wondering when the messages will be removed (only my intro was removed). As of today, that reply is still ignored, and the messages aren't removed 🤷

And this is the entirety of my Sonic Big Bang 2024 experience. Now for some Q&A:

Why did you wait so long to make this post? I didn't want to put any participants under fire, particularly my friends because I'll admit, the mods seem like petty people. And also I was worried about throwing shade on other participants (people associating their works with this) or spoiling the event for people who were genuinely having fun with it. Thus, I waited until it was over!

Is this a callout post? According to definition as "public criticism or asking someone to explain their actions", I think it is – in terms of calling out bad management. It is definitely not a call for harassment. There is a reason I censored some names and left vague who reported me, blocked me, was hostile to me or spread rumours about me. Please don't bother anyone, and if the mods decide to engage with this, they can post their own statement.

Aside from the above reasons, why make a post at all? Two reasons: a personal one and an altruistic one. Firstly, I hope to get closure this way since I still feel like I was unjustly thrown away when I was just being a dutiful person. Secondly, while Headmod Chaz said they will be transparent about this rule next time they run an event, as you can see they fully ignored my suggestion of doing it now, and in general keeping a rule hidden to such an extent where you lie in your FAQ is pretty shady... I don't trust them not to do it again next year.

Is it okay to reblog the post/reply to it, what about sending an ask or a PM? Yes to all. I don't expect anyone to reblog, though if you think it's necessary, go on. I'm posting it to the event tags, so-o I think people who need to see it – will see it. If you decide to be negative or call me names, however, be prepared to be blocked by IP or username.

Finally, fun facts as promised 🔥

There are other participants out there who have had negative experiences with BB or were made uncomfortable by the way it was managed, but I'm not going to speak for them;

There was this whole thing with hypocrisy and possible favouritism;

Despite the mods insisting on ME being quiet about my ban, it's now known that they shared information about it outside the mod group;

Out of 6 mods: 5 have me blocked, 2 were passive-aggressive with 1 of them going as far as verbally lash out at me in DMs, and only 1 mod gave me a human apology (not pictured in screenshots);

I saw 3 NSFW writers and at least 2 NSFW artists participating in BB just by scrolling through my dash, without seeking them out, and this is not counting people I noticed in the server prior to me being banned;

Some people are posting Mature and Explicit extras and sequels/prequels to their BB stories already;

The artist who reported me seems to have dropped out anyway;

There's a joke reason why I'm making a post, too: I have to earn being blocked from the event blog since they said they did it because of multiple instances of me talking about my removal;

I'm actually grace and most of the time write my characters as aspec, and I'm exploring what sexuality and intimacy mean for me through writing, so this situation felt a little... like gatekeeping;

My fic was #48 under the title Chao Care 101, and I want you to give me a high five if you had it among your top choices 🖐

Originally, I wasn't going to complete my BB fic because it made me feel bad, but now I've decided I want to reclaim it, so I'm writing it now. Almost 8k words at the moment. It will be published. And it will be illustrated;

Meanwhile, what came out of this disaster is Sonic Supernova 2025, and I recommend you all to keep an eye out for this inclusive Big Bang-like event 🌟

[mrstampede]

Mooooommmm….MrStampede is drawing Akitoya cuddles again…….

Ft Toya shoving his face in a blanket (a little habit of mine)

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Awwww thank you 🥺🥺🥺 you’re so sweet

Yeah I kept calling it a soft yandere fic I don’t know if I can keep calling it that at this point 🤣🤣🤣

Our Little Love part five - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Trigger warnings:  toxic yandere men, sub drop, guns, crime, violence, borderline abusive behaviour, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, a bad and failed attempt at aftercare, and I don't know if this counts as a warning but MC is naked through the whole thing

A/N: It's been a long time guys, I apologise <3

“I would love to kill him but you know it’ll upset little love, and I can’t stand the idea of her crying over another man.”

You start to rouse into consciousness, feeling multiple hands on your skin, stroking softly, a number of bodies sitting by your side as you sleep, their words starting to come into focus.

“We could make it look like an accident?” Another voice mumbled.

“She’d know.”

“Could you imagine her not speaking to us because we stomped on an ant?” Seokjin shakes his head in disbelief, a thumb rubbing the crease between your brows soothingly as you frown. “Part of me wants to do it out of spite.”

Your eyes open then, seven figures coming into view, all looking down on you with intense obsession that for a second it makes something on your skin crawl before you remember who they are in a daze. You inhale deeply, starting to stretch as you yawn, the sight has them cooing with adoration, their perfect little love. The ache begins to settle, the evidence of their ownership felt in your bones. 

Your body is pliable as Jin pulls you up with ease, resting your head on his shoulders as he adjusts you to straddle him, stroking your back soothingly as you come back to consciousness. You don’t know how long you slept for, either not enough or too much with how heavy you felt. They did a number on you, that much you knew, you had never felt this gone after a session or punishment, but you put that on the emotional toil it had on you rather than the physical aspect of it. 

You feel hands secure yours to Jin’s neck before he stands, taking you somewhere but you’re too tired to question anything, barely able to open your eyes. Your face is warm in his neck, the rest of your still naked body exposed to the cold air, you inhale him, his scent making you feel safe even as you shiver against him. You only realise their intentions when you’re lowered into hot water, Yoongi having checked three times it wasn’t scalding before letting Jin put you in the tub. There’s a hand on the back of your head, like a cushion as you lie back, as if there was a risk you could drown in your current state. 

“Maybe we should’ve let her sleep some more first,” you can hear someone mumble, it sounded like Kookie.

Slowly the warmth of the water eases your muscles, your head still aches at the front but you feel yourself returning, becoming more coherent and aware. Your eyes open, the brightness of the light making the men appear like dark shadows until your vision adjusted. They were all still staring, a mixture of different emotions in their gaze that put you on edge. This was supposed to be your recovery, you had regained enough thought process to realise that, so then why did they look like they wanted you back on that bed tied to it. 

You frown, the words from your dream coming back to you in their voices, slowly reconstructing as you realise it wasn’t a dream at all. The looks on their faces were murderous, you could see the remnants of rage still bubbling away under the surface. The setting was supposed to relax you, but the promise of blood put you on edge. Your heart thumped in your chest faster in warning, the ache in your limbs subsiding enough for you to run if you needed to. Your body recognised the signs of the oncoming danger, but it didn’t realise it wasn’t for you, it was for another. You swallow down the lump lodged in your throat, trying to find your voice enough to subdue their anger.

“What’s going to happen to him?” You dare to ask.

Jimin scoffs, his fists scrunching beside him, the first thing you ask about is another man, the first thing on your mind isn’t them but another man, didn’t you realise that was the wrong button to press? How could you even think of another after they monopolised you? He looks over to Taehyung, his face set in stone but Jimin could see through it.

Their silence makes your anxiety spike, wanting to fill the empty space with something even if it was your own voice.

​​“I know you’re angry but don’t do that to me,” you whisper, tears involuntarily slipping from your eyes. “I don’t care about him the way you think I do, but if you hurt him you put the guilt on my shoulders, and I can’t bear the weight.”

Your lower lip trembles, your chin wobbling and you look at them with innocent pleading eyes. 

“Don’t do that to me,” you breathe, begging them.

There’s a flash of irritation on some of their faces, a despondency in others.

“Please,” you whimper, fearing their decision had been made and you were fighting a battle already lost. You wouldn’t be able to handle it, you wouldn’t be able to look past it, everything they had done had somehow not crossed an invisible line of no return, but this, this would shove you over the edge. 

“You’re too good, little love,” Namjoon says, taking a seat on the rim of the tub, looking down at you, his presence forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. Your knees are to your chest in the water, arms wrapped around your legs like you were hiding yourself from them again and he hated it. “Crying over another man.”

The insinuation is crystal clear, even in his calm delivery of his words, you could see a storm ready to crash down on you. 

“I’m crying over you,” you admit, imploring him. “Over us.”

“Is that a threat, love?” Hoseok’s voice can’t hide the venom.

“No,” you can barely breathe, something seized your chest as the darkness in their gazes grew. Strums of panic start beating into your limbs, you couldn’t talk them down, you were useless but you will the words out. “For me, Hobi, for me, don’t do this.”

“You’re acting like we haven’t killed anyone before,” Yoongi states, scoffing at how ridiculous this was. 

“Not over me.”

He laughs and your blood turns cold, amusement written all over his face as it mocks you. 

What difference does it make, his expression says but you can hear it all clearly, if we kill for you or at all?

You turn back to Namjoon in panic, praying that they hadn’t, they didn’t, because it did make a difference. As stupid and naive as it sounded, it made a whole world of difference. 

“Joon,” you whimpered, wanting him to reassure you Yoongi was just messing with you, just being mean because you hurt him. 

“We won’t lie to you little love,” Namjoon states with a sadistic smirk.

You shake your head, eyes closed, refusing to believe it. It was a test, that was it, they were testing your loyalty, your love. 

“Get out,” you didn’t care if you failed.

Fingers under your chin force your head up, your eyes meeting Namjoon’s cold hard stare, but that smirk was still playing on his lips. 

“Do you regret coming back?” he asks.

You bite back bile, piercing him with as much anger as you can muster on your face.

“I regret not doing my job,” you say through gritted teeth, wanting to hurt them back just as much, petty rage fuelling your words. 

To your surprise he chuckles under his breath, an abnormal admiration in his gaze at your fire. Another hand overtakes his, turning you to face Hoseok’s glare, his nostrils flaring. 

“Tell me again you don’t care about him,” he dares you as if every word you had uttered was a lie just to save Suho, like all your feelings for them had been a lie. You tried to pry his fingers away, but they gripped your chin with such force, his fingers would make dents in your skin. You push against him but he doesn’t budge.

“Sounds like you care too much,” Seokjin pipes in, “Enough to regret what you have with us.”

“You’re threatening to put blood on my hands!” You yell back, pissed now that they didn’t see this from your perspective, that they didn’t care what it would do to you. Despite wanting to hold strong against them, you can feel more tears prick the corner of your eyes. “You say you don’t want to hurt me but you all do it again and again.”

“Careful love,” Yoongi warns, not liking your accusation at all even though he knew there was some truth in it. 

“Or what?” you scoff shakily, the tears making you tremble as you tried so hard to hold them in. “You’ll just find some way to make me learn my lesson, you’ll hurt me again, you’ll push me away, it's the same shit on repeat.”

You take a long shuddering breath, losing the battle to keep from crying. You were so exasperated, didn’t they see what they were doing to you?

“I love you,” you sob, “why isn’t that enough?”

The water had turned tepid and you blame that on why you were shaking. Hoseok finally lets you go, turning away from you before he let his anger get the better of him, biting his tongue.

One by one they leave you, no words of reassurance or love, just cold eyes turning away from you as if they couldn’t stand you. As soon as the door closes behind Jimin you let out the tears as silently as you could. 

—

Namjoon knew that was the wrong timing to bring up such a delicate subject, especially after a session like that. They all knew it, but in their eyes and in their defence, you were the one to bring it up first. They knew after Hobi’s theatrics you needed thorough aftercare, especially to bring you back up from the bottom of whatever hell or heaven they took you to, but in that moment they had to walk away.

Their anger was getting the best of them, they couldn’t swallow it down. To salvage the situation they had to keep their mouths shut, otherwise you would leave again. Not physically, they would never allow that, but emotionally, and as much as they could train you to love them and accept them, it wouldn’t be the same, it wouldn’t be real. They didn’t want a doll, or a toy, despite what many believed, they wanted you, the fire that came with you, but they wanted it to themselves. 

“That went well,” Seokjin grumbles, guilt starting to make its way to the surface of his thoughts as he remembered how much aftercare you would need, and they just deserted you. Panic starts to strum under his skin, the urge to go back and comfort you pushing his legs towards you but he stayed still, only his eyes travelled towards the room you were in a floor above them. 

“We just need a second to breathe,” Yoongi groans as if he could read Jin’s mind. His hair covered his face as he leaned on the back of the sofa, his eyes to the ground but his fists clenched to the fabric.

“Who knew it would be so hard to resist a kill?” Hoseok laughs mockingly at himself, he wanted Suho’s neck crushed in his hands, he wanted that body beaten and blue until there was no breath left in it. But you asked them not to. 

Make no mistake of it, they had in fact slaughtered many because of you before, but the difference was your ignorance to those crimes. You didn’t need to know, so they didn’t tell you. That man that snapped at you for knocking into him by accident? Gone. The guy that stared for too long when you went on a date in the park? Buried. The woman who looked at you in disgust when you were receiving their affection in public? Well long story short there was a trail of bodies never to be found, the only thing that connected them was their wrongdoings to you. 

This was a bit more complicated. You outright asked them not to, and now their two rules clashed - Destroy anyone that hurt you. Do everything you asked. 

“We can’t leave her for long,” Jimin pipes up after a moment of silence, starting to worry about your mental wellbeing. There was no movement from the floor above, it didn’t take a genius to figure out you were where they left you.

“I’ll go,” Jungkook and Taehyung were the quietest since you woke up, the youngest was the one to move first, the others watching him leave wishing they could trust themselves to follow without bringing about another argument. 

“Hyung you should go too,” Yoongi says to Jin, knowing he would control his emotions better than the rest of them and keep Jungkook in check. Seokjin nods once and follows the maknae. 

The silence between them only grows, their ears stretching to hear your movements, your voice, something that reassured them you were still here, still theirs. The sounds are muffled but they can hear the shower start, the soft mumbles of movement. There was a collective sigh of relief, though shoulders stayed tense. There was still an obvious problem that needed solving, not to mention undoing the damage they had inflicted with you.

“We don’t have to kill him,” Taehyung spoke for the first time that day, his deep timbre commanding their attention. “But we can’t just leave him.”

—

You couldn’t move, your bones felt cemented, they didn’t want you anymore. You ruined their perfect perception of you, you fought for another man’s life and now they discarded you. You didn’t want to move, to move would be to accept it and you didn’t have the strength left to. Would they kick you out? Kill you? You knew too much, they wouldn’t leave you alive. 

All you could see were their cold eyes, no ounce of love in them, it left you so empty and terrified. A subconscious part of you was tearing apart your insides as it tried to pull you to them, to beg them to forgive you, let them end Suho’s life… It was a dark part of you that suggested it but you wouldn’t, just because their morals were nonexistent didn’t mean you would give up all of yours. Even if they were the cost?

You close your eyes at the question, not wanting to answer it even in your mind.

You felt broken. But worse than that, you felt unwanted, by people who swore they would never let you go. 

Never say never, you internally scoff before releasing a deep shuddering breath, the fear gripping you again with fresh new tears escaping. You struggle to swallow down your whimpers, knowing they were an innate part of you that was trying to call out to them, but you wouldn’t, not when their rejection would seal the end like a casket closing. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, but they don’t wait for you to answer before it opens. The hardness in his doe eyes were gone when they stared at your form still in the tub, you thought about how pathetic you must’ve looked, no wonder why they didn’t want you anymore. He sighs to himself, was he disappointed in you? Did he want to use the bathroom but you were in his way? Any rational thought you tried to have to reason his reappearance swirled into a cloud of negativity above your head, even Jungkook could see it. 

“Love…” he said softly, approaching you slowly like you were the one who would run. Your hair was a mess, your knees still brought up to your chest with your arms crossed on them, like you were trying to disappear in yourself, or protect yourself. He kneels beside you, hand on the back of your head, stroking it gently like he was trying to tame it, and whatever thoughts he knew were spiralling inside. 

You were shivering, eyes closed at his touch when the door opened again, you didn’t open them to greet the new presence, trying to get your breathing back under control now the sobs stopped. 

Jin pulls back his sleeve before he puts his hand in the water, confirming what he already knew, it was frozen. His eyes are fixed on you when he pulls the plug, grabbing the shower head and turning it on, finding the right temperature. There’s a second of a violent shiver cascading through you when he runs it over your cold form, before he can visibly see you start to warm.

There’s an unspoken thought between the two when they glance at each other, they need to pull you out of whatever bottomless pit they threw you in fast, an idiot could tell you were still falling in it. 

“We’re sorry little love,” Jungkook whispered to you, loud enough that you’d hear him through the water, his own eyes starting to tear up at your form. It wasn’t just about physically pulling you out, after the damage they inflicted you needed reassurance. 

“Jungkook take her out for a second,” Jin instructed, passing him a towel before he stopped the water. “Let’s try this again.”

With the way you were sitting it didn’t take much effort for the maknae to carry you out, his own clothes getting soaked in the process not that he cared. The towel covered you instantly, not to dry you but to keep you warm, shielded. You moulded against his chest as he sat on the bathroom floor, waiting for Jin to refill the bath, muttering to himself as he added different salts and oil, something about eucalyptus or whatever, Jungkook wasn’t listening to him, his voice faded to the background to your breathing, every inhale and exhale, he focused on it.

“We’re sorry,” he repeated himself, arms firm around you, trying his hard not to constrict you too tight even though the fear of you disappearing had his muscles aching with a fight against his instincts. “We’re idiots baby, you know we’d do anything for you, forgive us hmm?”

He needed something from you, his own heart starting to panic at how quiet you’d become after the fight. 

“You don’t have to worry love I promise,” it may prove to be empty words depending on Namjoons decision how to proceed, but he’d tell you the sun was green if it brought you out of this free fall. He strokes your arm through the towel, trying to soothe the ache he knows they caused.  

“You know what we’re like,” he tries to chuckle but he can barely manage it, “our anger gets the best of us sometimes, but we’re trying baby.”  

You were right, it was a fleeting thought, one he tried to push away but he couldn’t, not with the way you were trembling against him. They did hurt you, time and time again, their love for you was stripping you of everything they loved about you. Toxic wasn’t the right word for it, they were a disease.

He keeps making gentle promises to you, softly spoken without an ounce of his previous anger or jealousy. Hell, with the way the fear of losing you had suddenly gripped him, he would throw the fucking Captain a birthday party just to see you smile again, the feeling was dramatic, but after losing you once… 

“Say something to me, hmm?” he kisses the side of your head, just below your temple. “Just one word, please Y/n.”

He nuzzles his head against yours, begging you to give him something even if he didn’t deserve a single syllable. 

“Jungkook,” Jin pulls his attention, the water ready. The oldest tried to ignore the tug he felt with you in the youngest’s arms, trying to focus on the task in front of him, but your state was the worst distraction. He wanted to call Namjoon, but he knew that may not have been the best idea right now. 

For the second time that day you’re placed back in the bathtub, like they were restarting the day, wiping away the wounds they left you with, but wouldn’t that be too easy. The warmth starts to ease your bones, your muscles relaxing visibly as your eyes close. For a second you could pretend everything was okay, that the men you loved were as soft inside as they were with you now. 

Jin pulls your arm out of the water gently, working the loofah on your skin like you were made of the most fragile glass. Jungkook pulls your head back, wetting your hair with his hands forming a barrier so not a drop would fall on your face. His hands work through your scalp. You kept your eyes through it all, content with feeling them, their hands transpiring their love, or so you wanted to believe. Was it love or just possession?

Now the seed of doubt presented itself, you couldn’t stop it growing, manifesting its vines around your chest, you could feel each thorn, each prick brought a new uncertainty. Jungkooks thumb rubs away the frown that formed at your thoughts. You look up at him and he swore he could see you coming back to them, the despondency starting to leave your eyes as you gazed at him in wonder. He smiles softly, pressing a kiss between your brows, but he didn’t run with relief just yet. 

Jin holds up a fresh towel then they’re done, you wobble slightly as you stand, but he wraps you in it before you can stumble. He lifts you out, making sure you stand steady in front of him as he dries you, Jungkook doing the same for your hair. There’s a soft kiss on the bridge of your nose, Jin testing the waters before the urge to cover you with his lips overtakes him. He doesn't meet the stare you have on his face, he doesn’t think he can hold himself back if he does. 

“Come on heaven,” he keeps his voice gentle, coaxing you out of your shell. “Clothes, food and bed. Everything else can wait for tomorrow.”

–

He knew he was being followed, it was inevitable, he knew that, didn’t mean he didn’t fear death. He was wondering when Kim Namjoon was going to put his head on a silver platter, he wondered if it would be served to you. What bullshit did those men fill your head with?

Your friendship with Suho ran deep, your respect ran deeper, he knew that, that’s why he couldn’t give up on you. It happened in his line of work. He had seen it, call it brainwashing, an identity crisis, stockholm syndrome, there were a thousand labels for the conditions that messed up the brain. He never thought it would ever touch you, but he’d been wrong before. 

Kim Namjoon wasn’t the only person who wanted his head, his higher ups were questioning everything. How did the task force fail when they put their best asset on it? That asset now fell into the hands of what they were trying to take down in the first place, the universe had a fucked up sense of humour. 

Suho paused at his door, the poor concealment of the broken lock stood like a dare, almost as if it were calling him a coward. He kicked it open, gun already drawn and aimed in front of him.

“You can put that away Captain,” a voice called in the darkness of his apartment. “Your death isn’t on the cards tonight.”

He doesn’t lower his weapon despite the reassurance, criminals were known liars, and he wasn’t an idiot. One hand reached for the wall, roaming blind until it found the switch. 

The figure of Kim Namjoon looking too comfortable in his humble home presented itself with the lights, the head of the syndicate sitting on the worn couch like it were a priceless throne. 

“Your death might be,” Suho replies, his gun aimed at Namjoon’s head. 

He only laughed, like the threat out of the police Captain’s mouth meant nothing, a joke. Fury burned underneath his skin, first the piece of scum takes his best detective, and now this. 

“You shouldn’t underestimate me,” his gaze turned deadly in a second, his own warning carrying more weight than anything Suho could say. 

“Believe me, I didn’t,” Suho admits, remembering how much resources they put into their task force, how he always knew it wasn’t going to be enough. Yet he still sent you into the firing line, foolishly hoping you would be the answer to everything. “Why are you here?”

“Don’t come near Y/n,” his eyes assess his opponent, calculating him accurately. He knew exactly what the Captain wanted, and he would let the whole nation burn before he ever allowed it. 

“Why? Are you scared I’ll speak some sense into her?” It was Suho’s turn to chuckle, the patronising sound mocking his enemy.

“Truly, yes,” the corner of Namjoon’s lips lift for a second, humouring the ant in front of him for a moment. “But you upset her with your last unwanted visit, and normally that would mean I detach your soul from your body but unfortunately our little love has a soft spot for you.”

Disgust worked his dinner up his throat, the idea of these men sharing you like you were some sort of fuckdoll, didn’t you see that was the biggest slap in your face? The fact they were probably doing it to show the entire police force a massive fuck you, how did they pull the wool over your eyes? 

“I won’t let Y/n become a pawn in whatever game you’re playing,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster, his hands tight on his gun, his finger aching to pull the trigger. 

“Pawn?” Namjoon seethed, that’s all you were to the authorities that threw you into the syndicate like fodder. “I can assure you in this analogy she’s the queen, but I think you already know that, otherwise why would you be so concerned?”

“She’s my best detecti-”

“Was.”

Their glares intensified, the original intention of peace fading fast. 

“She was a detective,” not your anything you fucking cockroach. 

A part of him wished he followed through with his earlier plan of bringing you to this meeting with him, he would show the arrogant fucker exactly where you belonged. He’d eat you out on this very couch, kneeling in front of you, not letting the ant see a single sliver of your skin, but your voice would tell him exactly what was transpiring, exactly how it was you that held them in your clutches, you that drove them mad with a despicable desire.

It was an empty thought, fuelled by irrational jealousy that Namjoon didn’t previously think he was capable of, but when it came to you… No, there was no way he’d let anyone else witness you that way, he’d kill them, and even if Hell froze over there was no chance that your old friend would ever see you again. 

The silence grew heavy, even with the rage in Kim Namjoon’s eyes, the Captain thought he looked too relaxed. 

“Obviously a verbal warning isn’t going to make a dent in your thick skull,” he sighs, motioning in the air with two fingers.

Suho can’t differentiate what came first, the shattering of glass or the bullet in his hand knocking the gun out of it. Sniper. Curses tumbled out of his mouth loudly until he bit his mouth shut, there were civilians in the building. The pain seared through his hand like an invisible fire. 

“Look at me Captain,” the weight of real power commanded him. Through tear filled eyes he saw the evil in front of him, gleaming with a promise. “You let Y/n go.”

A second bullet whistled into his knee cap, the message understood; he couldn’t follow you if he couldn’t walk. 

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Taglist: @nlost21 @pb-n-juju @needyomnivore @lvpersona @marvelfamily3000 @love2lovesworld @halesandy @dreamamubarak @deepseavibez @mikymouse0729 @barnesrogerslover @itismochirice @mwitsmejk @minswife4life @justanotherstarlightmonger @rapline-heaux 

[ribcagebonemeal]

rip john lennon you would've hated my bad flash animation 💔

[scoupsofjisung]

༘♡ ⋆｡˚ feed me, seungminnie :(

🧸 paring: kim seungmin x f! reader

🧸 warnings: none

🧸 author rambles: im so hungry and tired right now can you tell? but im at uni by myself so in order to eat i must get up and make my own food, oh the agonies. i love my seungminnie who shows his love secretly, it’s my first time writing him so i was sorta experimenting too lol. also my usual app to make texts is being annoying and not working so i had to get a new one ugh i hope it doesn't look to weird/different <3 also seungmin is so the type of bf to say no to something you ask while literally in the process of doing it for u TT

masterlist

blog info post!

[omnificent-orion]

Do you still dream of escape? So near at hand?

What is the point of dreaming when your body lies here, never moving?

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones XXXI

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Author’s Note: dare I say...the end of my blue balling era has come.

shoutout to @divinerivals for being on this journey with me <3

Tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @rosewood-cafe / @vanserrass / @readthelastpaage / @teddyhoneybear / @zenkindoflove / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @rainbowsnowflake /@queenoftheworld1998 /@wolvesnravens

Find it all here.

Pieces of her heart were being chipped away at what he was suggesting. As if Iris would be able to simply…continue with her life should he be taken from her. 

She had no doubt – none that Eris didn’t cherish having a mating bond as deeply as she did. For him to sit here and plan for her to move on…

As if she would have a life with her mate dead. 

“Are these the kind of thoughts you’ve been sitting on the last few days?” she finally asked. “This is what’s been going on in that head of yours?”

When Eris said nothing, Iris couldn’t help her scoff of indignation and she shook her head, rubbing a hand to her forehead in true exasperation, anguish clogging her throat. She was still struggling with the idea of leaving him on that cursed day and here he was, trying to find ways for her to cut her losses and continue life without him. 

“And you have the nerve to say that so casually,” she muttered and felt her chest tighten painfully. “Like the loss of my mate is something I’m supposed to accept. Like it’s so simple to…adjust.” 

He scowled, working his jaw. “It’s not simple. None of this is simple but if I can do anything to protect you, I will.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. “If everything goes well and he’s dead by the end of it, I will ravish you to our heart’s content.” 

She stared at him incredulously. “If I slapped you right now, you’d deserve it.”

“I know.”

“What happened to ‘have faith it’ll end in our favor’?” she snapped. “I know you’re worried but for you to think that I’d be able to — to just move on should something happen to you…What is the matter with you?”

“I’m trying to take all the precautions I can, Iris.” he hissed. “The mating bond is a living thing – it’s real and people can sense it if we are together. They can scent it and while I can hide it as best as I can, there is always a fucken risk. Had we gone farther this morning – had our scents mingled – the mating bond would be strong, Iris. Far stronger than what it is now and the risk will be infinitely higher. Should anything happen to me, I don’t want it to be so catastrophic for you. If we can avoid it even a little bit –”

“There is a risk for everything, Eris!” she snarled and tried not to stutter as she continued, “Whether something happened to you or not – being mates won’t go away.”

“That is exactly why I don’t want anyone to know. In the event something happens to me, you’re not hunted down like an animal.” he snapped and avoided looking at her again. “If I can’t give you peace while I’m here, at least let me give you some peace if I’m gone.”

Iris could only stare at him, her hands slacked at her sides, her chest so tight. That ache she had felt this morning while watching him sleep returned in full force and she wanted to double over at the pain. The idea – the mere thought of anything happening to him – that he would cease to exist — a panic like no other unfurled through her whole body. 

Did he truly think he mattered that little to her? That she was somehow only sticking around at the convenience of being his wife and mate? 

“You’re being mean, Eris.” she said so miserably, that it made him finally meet her gaze.

“Iris.” he said softly, grimacing and she shook her head, distress coursing through every inch of her being.

“Are you truly so unaware of how much you mean to me, that you think the idea of you dying wouldn’t devastate me?” she whispered. “That I would want to have an out if you’re not with me?” 

Eris felt his insides shrivel, his body running both hot and cold, feeling wrecked by her words. He couldn’t help but look away, down at his hands – hands that had so much blood on them and would need to be soaked in more blood to get to the light at the end of the road. And here she was, saying things that would make it even harder for him to let her go.

As she watched him process, the way she always did, she thought back to her hesitation to confess her feelings to him for fear of him not saying it back. But knowing Eris and the way he was…she knew he needed words from her. He stayed in his head so often, Iris didn’t think he’d realize just how much she felt for him unless she said the words.

“Eris,” she called to him and he couldn’t stop himself from lifting his head and sharing a glance with her. “In case it wasn’t abundantly clear, I do not want to have a life without you.”

She said it so calmly – like the words wouldn’t crush him, to hear her say that. Even if he knew – he knew how she felt – for her emotions were usually a mirror to his own, but he was hit all over again with how badly he needed to hear it and it always seemed like she knew exactly what he needed. His wife – mate, who watched him the way he watched her, memorizing things about him and his wants, his needs.

He could hear the rapid beating of her heart, the flush on her cheeks giving away how nervous she was to say those words, like Eris hadn’t been drowning in his feelings for her since their first night together. 

Like he wasn’t so very overwhelmed by the sheer force of her existence. 

As if he wasn’t fighting just how obsessed he was with having her in his life.

“I’m not going to deny how I feel when everything is on the line like this.” Iris continued and took a step towards him. “I have been having all these feelings and it scared the shit out of me. Then we find out we’re mates and suddenly, everything about us makes sense.” She paused for a moment, swallowing as they watched each other, another type of declaration sitting on the tip of her tongue but Iris wasn’t ready yet; she’d save that for another day. “I’m not going to sit here and let you make plans that separate us because of what your father could do,” she said, waving a hand helplessly. “I’m not going to let him win.”

“I don’t want him to win.” he could only bring himself to say, his voice hoarse. 

“That’s exactly what you’re doing when you sit here and say those things to me,” she said. “When you belittle what we have and how – how significant it is. I’m your wife and mate and that’ll never not be a risk. We were complete strangers yet somehow, the stars aligned and here we are. On the cusp of something that’ll change the trajectory of our lives and everything we know…” Her mouth was set in a firm line as she continued quietly, “I’ll be damned if I let you think that you can hold me at a distance because of what may or may not happen. When you try and act like it wouldn’t ruin me should something happen to you. ”

Eris felt any resistance he had start to crumble. 

“The Mother decided you and I were mates for a reason,” Iris said and gently lifted his chin with her hand. “This thing between us… this is the first thing that has ever been mine and whether you like it or not, I will go down swinging for it. For you.” Iris licked her lips before adding so quietly, “Don’t deny me of you because of him. He doesn’t get to take anything more from us.”  

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” he whispered and hated that his voice cracked. 

Iris’s expression softened, her thumb caressing his cheek. “If something is meant to happen, then it will. All we can do is accept it and be as ready for it as we can.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw and Eris had to glance down at his clenched hands. “I have waited so fucken long for this,” he said and met her gaze. “For you.” He stood once more, his hands latching on to hers. “I have wished and pleaded and fucken –” Eris stopped himself but knew the desperation on his face must’ve shown exactly how he felt. The sheer yearning he’d had over the years. Since she married him, Iris had been by his side and yet he still craved her more and more deeply each day. He wanted to inject her very essence into his veins. He wanted a life with her. To make her laugh. To give her every single thing she ever desired. But how did he describe this to her? How did he verbalize exactly how much she meant to him? Was telling her he lo – how he felt as she did enough? 

He hadn’t used that word in years – decades. Eris hadn’t even let himself think of the word all these years because of how his father would tarnish it. He had spent his life half in agony with his hope buried so deeply beneath it that he wasn’t sure he could feel that emotion. 

But his mate was a gift. An honor. One he still didn’t believe he deserved but would hold on to for as long as he had time. She was his hope. 

Eris Vanserra had always been a broken dreamer but with Iris? His sky finally had stars. 

And Iris watched him struggle with his mind, holding onto all the things she knew he wanted to say and squeezed his hands tightly. “I may have promised you that I’d leave on the night of the ball so that you don’t have to worry about me but I am not leaving you. I am not going where I cannot return.” 

Eris swallowed hard and forced himself to take a breath. “I have wanted for so long,” he whispered. “I am terrified this will be taken from me. I am terrified of what will happen to you should something happen to me and I want you far away from here in case it does.”

“That means you have to make sure nothing happens to you.” Iris whispered to him and cupped his face. “So that nothing happens to me and then you and I can actually get to live.” 

Whatever was left of that wretched heart of his broke into a thousand pieces and Eris felt his hands start to shake, his chest caving in. Why was she so patient with him? Why was she tied to someone as inadequate as him when she could’ve had someone – anyone better? Cleaner. Less troublesome. 

But her hands were on his face and no hands – none – had ever felt so right. 

It was as if any place Iris touched, she wiped clean and Eris was stained with misery all over. The more she touched him, the more of it she seemed to clear.  

He wanted to live with her. He wanted to look forward to tomorrow. He wanted to give her a life where she had everything she wanted and more. 

Eris wasn’t embarrassed as he stumbled over his words, “You – don’t want a life without me then.”

Roses bloomed on her cheeks as she blushed so beautifully, her hands dropping to her side and nodded. “No, I don’t.” 

And it was like a puzzle piece sliding into place inside his body and mind. 

Eris stared at her as she stood before him, her heart sitting there for the taking – his taking. She let him see all her vulnerabilities and Eris’s shoulders slumped. He felt the same way, didn’t he? He had never felt this way with anyone. He – he was in love, right? This was that feeling – the one everyone whispered about.

He was in love with his wife. A slight terror coursed its way through his chest as he forced himself to swallow hard and run a hand over his mouth again, the words on the tip of his tongue. The longer he looked at her, the harder it was to choke them down. He had always promised her words and yet, he wanted to savor these specific words for a better time. When it didn’t feel like an ominous declaration. Instead, Eris found himself confessing so quietly, it was barely above a whisper, “I think…I think that I lived half a life before you and am far more attached to you than I care to admit. My world was black and white…” He swallowed and took a breath before adding, “Now it’s screaming in colors I couldn’t see with anyone else. I find that your shade of life is my favorite.” 

He felt her joy at his words through their bond, that small, shy smile she reserved for him and him alone graced her lovely face. That joy found its way to his chest and Eris could’ve sworn everything in him settled. His very spirit seemed to wrap around hers, settling deep into his weary bones, where the Prince of Autumn knew, nothing would compare to this feeling again.

Like his whole being had taken a breath of fresh air.    

Iris’s heart was thumping wildly, his confession only confirming what she already knew, knowing the way his words meant something deeper, something he was still terrified to share. But it didn’t matter.

Eris was hers and Iris was his, in every way that it mattered. 

She shifted on her feet, a hand tightening in the folds of her robe as she said, “It’s a really good thing we’re married –” 

“And mates.”

“ –Otherwise this obsession with each other would've been really awkward.” she finished, giving him a pointed look that had them sharing a chuckle. 

He stared at her for a moment too long and Iris had just opened her mouth when he finally said, “How is it you can do that?”

“Do what?” she asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Make me laugh when I – I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

“Because I see you, Eris.” she said simply and shrugged almost helplessly. “And…and I’m giving you my heart to take care of. The least I can do is take care of yours too.” 

Eris felt himself about to crumble. He would shatter into pieces all over this floor and Iris would be left with a pile of rubble for a husband. He wanted to be embarrassed. He felt his cheeks heat as she watched him process her words, a hint of amusement in her gaze. But gods, he didn’t even care. He just wanted her. 

“So it wasn’t just the puppies you were sticking around for, hm?” he finally said.  

Iris’s eyes lit up, her smile playful as she teased, “You called them puppies.”

Eris couldn’t help his own shrug, giving her a half smile. “You’re wearing me down, wife.” 

She chuckled even as she shifted on her feet and glanced at him beneath her lashes. “I haven’t even started wearing you down yet, husband.”

Immediately, the energy in the room shifted, the bond between them going taut the way it always did when they shared a heated glance.

“Is that so?” he asked carefully and Iris nodded. She placed a hand on his chest, slowly pushing him backward until the back of his knees met the bed and Eris sat, their eyes never leaving each other. “How else do you plan to wear me down?”

Iris bit her lip, a hand toying with the sash of her robe. With everything to come and all that had been shared the last few days, she knew without a single doubt, she wanted him. “That depends,” she said and straightened, her expression turning serious. “Are we going to let him ruin this for us?”

Eris’s eyes hardened. “He doesn’t get to win.” he said and his tone left no room for argument. “He doesn’t get to take anything else from me.” 

“Then I want you to forget about everyone and everything else. Stop thinking. Stop worrying.” she said softly. “Let’s just focus on you and me. Do you think we can do that?”

“Iris…”

“Because I don’t want an out, Eris. I only want you.” she said. “ Do you want me?”

“That is a ridiculous question.”

“You’ve been ridiculous all day.” Iris said with a shrug. “I’m trying to stay on theme.” 

And he realized how truly stupid he was being when he almost chuckled at her words. For someone as calculated as he was, trying to be ten steps ahead of the curve, it dawned on Eris this was something he never had control over since the beginning. She wrecked all his plans, even when he was being pig-headed trying to protect her. 

If the end was coming, the least he could do was let himself enjoy it. Enjoy her. 

He licked his lips, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest as he confessed quietly, “I have never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

A flush crept across her cheeks and Eris loved watching the way his words impacted her. He sure as fuck was not good with words but he had promised himself he’d try for her and by the gods, he would say anything to watch the way she bloomed with encouragement. 

And he watched her, like a lovelorn fool, wondering exactly how he had managed to think he knew what happiness meant before her. 

���I’ve…thought a lot about what our first time together would be like.” Iris said, gently pulling to untie her robe. “I thought about what I’d wear and have been experimenting with different gowns to get a feel for what you’d like.” 

“I like everything you wear. You looked beautiful in them all.” he said and Iris preened at his compliment but gave him a coy smile.

“But I know you’d prefer me wearing nothing.” 

Eris couldn’t help but shrug, a smirk forming on his lips. “Nothing would look fantastic on you.” 

And Iris felt her body heat. He had said those words to her before and she had recoiled, not even imagining she’d ever want him to touch her. Now, she wanted to show him exactly how fantastic she looked in nothing. 

She bit her lip, her fingers holding the robe loosely. “We didn’t quite get a normal wedding day, much less a typical wedding night.” she started, her voice low and she watched as Eris’s gaze narrowed in on the way her fingers slid against the white silk. “But it’s better late than never so…I decided to keep it traditional and go with white today.” 

Eris made a sound deep in his throat and Iris felt it vibrate through her body, heat pooling low in her stomach. The gleam in his eyes was predatory and Iris was a very willing prey as she slid the robe just so down her shoulders.

“White for my pretty, pretty bride.” he murmured.

“Oh yes.” she said and bit her lip before continuing in a teasing tone that wasn’t at all a little breathless, “Do you think you can handle it?” 

“No.” he answered much too honestly. “But if this is the way I must go, who am I to fight destiny?”

Iris’s cheeks were crimson, a quiet giggle slipping from her lips. “Ah, spoken like a valiant soldier.” she added and slid the robe a little more, the white straps of her lingerie making an appearance.

Eris straightened where he sat, the scent of their arousal surrounding them. In the distant past, he’d played with lovers. He’d teased and taunted and had them begging for mercy. His wife’s skin wasn’t even on full display and she was toying with him in a way he was enjoying a little too much.  

“Let the robe fall, Iris.” he ordered, his voice a soft caress and Iris couldn’t help but shudder as his command slid over and skated down her spine. 

She was powerless to refuse and the silk slid off her, pooling at her feet. 

The Prince of Autumn couldn’t stop the choked noise that escaped him. He had gone wholly still, his eyes raking over her very beautiful and very exposed body. 

She stood before him in a white set, the lace stretching tightly against her waist, cupping her breasts in a way that threatened to ruin his sanity. She had worn gowns before, offering him some sort of reprieve from losing his mind completely but today…today, her set displayed so much of her lovely skin and the beautiful curves of her body. Her white lace left little to the imagination and Eris…Eris was going to die. 

“You are so fucken beautiful,” was his helpless response, uttered so softly and Iris’s flush deepened. 

She glanced down with a small smile before meeting his gaze again, a finger sliding across the waistband of her lingerie. “You’re a very lucky male.”

Eris couldn’t help the tight laugh that escaped him. “Indeed, I am.” he said, his eyes sliding down her body and then back up, cataloging every inch of her. Just this morning he was telling her exactly how often he pictured feeling her body on his. How often he thought of how he’d make her shudder beneath him. How he’d savor her taste on his tongue.

He was not ashamed to admit his thoughts had gotten aggressively dirtier the longer she stood there. 

“Come here.” he commanded and the words seemed to skate across her skin again, sending a pleasant jolt right down her spine at the way his voice dropped an octave. They shared a heated glance and Iris saw the way his eyes darkened the longer he watched her, her pulse thumping wildly beneath her skin.

Iris walked over to him and slowly, without her eyes leaving his, she carefully straddled him and brought his hands that had slacked beside him on the bed, guiding them to her waist. She let her eyes roam across his face and shoulders, scattered with freckles and it reinforced her mission to kiss every single freckle she found on his skin. 

Eris couldn’t bring himself to say a word and the room was silent as she shuddered slightly, gooseflesh erupting on her skin as so much of her body touched so much of his. Her chest brushed against his and he let himself lean forward just a little, inhaling her scent and marveling at how right she felt pressed against him. 

His hands had slid down to her bare thighs and his gaze dropped to his thumb caressing her lovely skin there. He glanced back up to meet her eyes, dilated in desire that matched his own. 

They drank in the sight of each other, so close, touching so softly. 

“Look at you and your excellent listening skills.” he finally said hoarsely and the corner of Iris’s mouth curled up.

“I’m masquerading as a good wife that listens to her husband.” she replied and let her hands slide to the nape of his neck, her fingers curling into the strands of his hair. “Is it working?”

It was his turn to shudder and Eris felt his cock stir, already hard beneath her touch, especially with the way her body was perfectly lined against his. She was seated in his lap, only scrapes of fabric separating their skin and Eris had to breathe quietly through his nose to control himself. 

“You’ll be the death of me.” he whispered. “I feel like a starving man seated in front of a feast. How do I begin? Where do I even start?”

Iris couldn’t help her smile and she leaned to press a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “How about you kiss me?” she asked softly, her grip tightening in his hair. “Then we can go from there.”

Eris’s mouth curled into a soft smirk, his eyes blazing as his hands slid from her thighs to her waist then up her spine. “Oh, I’m going to kiss you,” he began and Iris shifted, arching into his touch as his voice dropped. “I’m going to kiss you everywhere. I’m going to taste what’s mine. And every inch of you is mine, isn’t that right, mate?”

Iris licked her lips, the very breath between them tense in the most pleasant of ways at his claiming, different from any other time he said it. This time, heart and mind were on the same page. This time, neither of them had any intentions of stopping. 

“Every part of me is yours. Just like every part of you is mine.” 

And no other words needed to be said as they fell into each other with urgency, like a dam flooding, and everything in Iris wanted to be wrapped in Eris. His kiss was a hot branding against her lips and she moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down her body and up, touching all the skin she’d kept hidden from him before, her grip tightening in his hair. A breath stuttered out of her when Eris’s fingers weaved into her hair and gently pulled back, exposing her neck. 

“Do you understand what I mean when I say mine, little gazelle?” he said against her skin and Iris couldn’t help the shudder that went through her body when his other hand kneaded then squeezed her ass. “I have been on my best behavior with you and even if I’ve explained, I don’t think you understand what I’ve been craving to do to you.”

“Do you?” she asked, attempting a cheeky smile that immediately dropped and was replaced by another shaky exhale when his hands squeezed her ass again. “Y-you seem to be all talk.”

Eris forced himself to pull back and meet her gaze, his nostrils flaring at her taunting but he could hear how wildly her heart was beating — could feel the thump of her pulse. She was aroused and excited but he sensed the nerves beneath the lust. 

And Eris couldn’t have that. 

“Don’t underestimate how obscene my mind becomes when it thinks about you.” he warned with a pointed look and Iris felt slickness begin to build between her legs. His thumb brushed against her lower lip as he watched her swallow, the scent of their arousal almost overwhelming. “I may have given you some idea,” he murmured. “But it’s impossible for you to know just how desperately I’ve wanted to touch you and feel your wetness coating my fingers. How desperately I want to taste you on my tongue.”

A small noise slipped from her lips and Iris closed her eyes against his words, arching into him again as his mouth returned to kiss and suck on the column of her neck.

“And how do you think I’ll taste?” she whispered, pressing her chest against his, earning an appreciative rumble from him. She wanted to push him down and feel exactly how he would be beneath her. She wanted to feel every inch of him against every inch of hers, all skin with nothing else between them. She wanted — 

“Exquisite.” he purred and Iris flushed. “Like the first taste of water after being parched for ages. Like honey melting on my tongue.” He grasped her hips, guiding her body to grind against his, earning him another shuddered breath from his wife. “You’ll taste exactly what I know my favorite dessert will taste like.” 

She couldn’t help the sound that slipped from her lips, her fingers tightening in his hair. Iris wanted to tell him that she too, had thought about the taste of him in her mouth. She craved to feel exactly what it would be like to have him inside her and cursed that she had somehow waited this long. “What else have you thought about?” she asked and gingerly rolled her hips against him again.

“This morning wasn’t enough of a description?” he continued, his voice low against her burning skin and Iris’s legs tightened around him. “I know you’ll fit perfectly. I know you coming on my cock will be heaven.” 

“I’ve thought about all the things I’ve never done and how I want you to teach me.” she admitted breathlessly and rolled her hips into his once more, her core aching against his cock. 

“I already told you I’d teach you anything you want, little gazelle.” he whispered against her skin, meeting the roll of her hips with his own. “I’ll make all your dirty fantasies come true.”

“Will you?” she asked with a coy smile and pulled back on his hair gently to nip at his lips. “Or will you keep running that pretty mouth of yours?”

Eris barked a tight laugh and stood swiftly, lifting her in his arms with him and Iris could feel how his hardened length settled against her center deliciously. “You think my mouth is pretty, do you?” he teased and she sucked in a breath as he pressed her firmly against him.

“This is not the time to fish for compliments.”

“Ah, but I am nothing without my inflated ego, wife.” he said, his voice a sensual whisper and he nipped at her ear. “Indulge your husband who immensely enjoys compliments and tell me what I want to hear.”

“Your mouth is not pretty, it’s wicked. You have a wicked mouth.” she said tightly and he quirked a brow. “It’s not doing what I really want it to.”

“And what do you want my wicked mouth to do, wife?” he asked.

“Kiss me.” she demanded. “Taste me.”

The Prince of Autumn’s grin was roguish. “I’d be delighted.” 

Eris crashed his lips against hers and the feeling of urgency between them returned in full force. The need to claim had their hands roaming and Eris finally turned and laid Iris down, immediately covering her body with his and grinding.

He couldn’t touch her quickly enough. She couldn’t kiss him hard enough. 

His lips released hers and made their way to her neck once more, leaving quick kisses as he pressed himself into her more firmly, his cock so hard it was almost painful — he knew he’d be leaking as soon as he slipped out of his pants. 

She moaned and Eris had to force himself to move away from her lovely neck to meet her gaze as he rocked into her once more. Her eyes were clouded with desire and the sight of her mouth falling open as he rocked into her again had him almost combust.

“Just a little preview.” he said tightly and kissed her again roughly, his tongue clashing with hers for another taste before pulling himself off her completely to drink in the sight of her disheveled on their bed. Her hair was fanned around her head in a way that made him long to have it wrapped in his fist, the strap of her lingerie falling off one shoulder, and her legs spread to accommodate him —  she was a sight to behold and if Eris could spend the evening just memorizing her in this view, he would. But her pretty mouth was begging for more kisses and he needed to hear more of those lovely noises she kept making. 

He dropped to his knees immediately, pulling her to the edge of the bed and her head shot up. 

“Eris —” Iris started but his lips had found their way to her thighs and the feeling of his mouth on skin he hadn’t kissed before silenced her for a moment.

“I need to taste you, wife.” he whispered against her skin, as his lips kissed the inside of her knee and kept moving up, spreading her legs further until he reached the wetness coating the lacy scrap she wore. He brushed his nose against the fabric, inhaling, and Eris nearly came at the scent alone. “If I don’t, I might, quite literally, die.”

She choked back a laugh, her legs shifting as he moved between them. “So dramatic even between my legs.” she said and though he was right where she wanted him, Iris needed just another moment — just one, and reached for him. “Eris, come here please.”

Instantly, Eris moved up to meet her hands as she cupped his face and kissed him hungrily once more. He groaned into her and his fingers slid against her legs, squeezing her thighs until she pulled back. 

“Yes, wife?” 

“I want you to touch me everywhere.”

“Absolutely.”

“And I want you to taste me wherever you want.” 

“That was indeed my plan.”

“But I do need you to remember,” she said and her voice lowered as color bloomed on her cheeks once more. “That I have never done this with anyone before and I need you to be a little gentle with me.” 

Eris froze as she held his face in her hands. “Gentle.” he repeated and Iris nodded slowly.

“I may have done some…self-discovery before you,” she said with a flush. “But this is different.”

The roaring fire he had felt in his veins calmed momentarily as he looked at her. So that was what she seemed nervous about. 

He didn’t know gentle — he was not used to that approach.

Eris scanned his wife’s face beneath him. He took in the sight of her gazing up at him and saw the desire mixed in with the trust in her eyes. She wanted him but more importantly, she trusted him to take care of her. Eris Vanserra didn’t do gentle but he sure as fuck would try. 

He would be damned if he didn’t make this the most pleasurable first time a person could dream of.

Eris released a hand from her thigh and brought it to her hand on his left cheek, pulling it down to kiss her palm.

“You’re telling me this lovely hand here knows how to play with what’s mine already? It’s played with what I already know will be the prettiest cunt I’ll ever lay eyes on?” he said, his voice full of sinful promise as he smirked at her, and Iris’s body felt aflame. 

“M-Maybe.” she stuttered as he kissed each fingertip of her hand.

“Do you want to play a little for me? Do some…self-discovery to help you relax?” he asked, kissing her palm once more.

“I’d rather you played with me instead.” she breathed and his eyes darkened.

“I am physically restraining myself from devouring you,” he said. “And you say things like this.”

Iris fought a smile. “Why?” she said quietly. “You won’t hurt me.”

Eris squeezed his eyes shut, the wind momentarily knocked out of him again at the amount of trust she now placed in him. It still hit him with the force of a boulder and he opened his eyes to find her watching him with that same small smile. “You are going to kill me.” he mumbled and let a hand gently run through her loose hair. “You deserve something soft. Something sweet. Not the kind of rabid animal you make me.”

Iris laughed softly and pulled him closer, their lips only a breath away. “Then show me soft. Show me something sweet.” she said. “I know you have it in you.”

Eris faltered, a hand stilling in her hair. She really was going to be the death of him if she kept speaking to him like this. “You truly believe that?” his question barely above a whisper. 

Iris softened. “Yes.” she whispered and leaned in to brush her lips against his, causing him to shudder. “Especially because I think...I think you need that softness as much as I do.” 

Eris swallowed. “Even if my softness is wrapped in barbed wire?”

Iris bit her lip and rocked her hips against his, both of them groaning at the contact. “It’s a good thing that I love carrying a sharp knife then, isn’t it?” she whispered with a chuckle and Eris felt himself unravel. “So you can show me a little soft or a little rabid, husband, but whatever it is, it’s time you properly made me your wife.” 

Any resemblance of self-restraint that Eris had possessed until this moment, snapped and he was an inferno unleashed. He kissed her like the starved man he knew he was and Iris matched his eagerness with her own, her body pressing into his until once more, he pulled away and Iris let out a whine of disapproval.

Eris’s hands moved to the straps of her bra and he gave her a smirk. “This is lovely but I need it gone. Sit up.” he demanded and he leaned in to kiss her again as she followed his request, his hands skimming the back of her bra, undoing it quicker than she could blink. 

He tossed it to the side and Iris flushed at the way he watched her, forcing her to lay back down slowly, his eyes scanning her exposed skin. 

“Oh. I’ve dreamed about these.” he said reverently and allowed himself a moment to admire the sight of her exposed breasts and the gooseflesh scattered across her skin. 

Iris’s hands twitched by her sides as he watched her and Eris narrowed his eyes at the movement. “If you even think about covering any part of yourself, I will tie your hands up very quickly,” he said. “I want to look at what is mine.” 

“I think we should ease into bondage.” she said, her flush deepening, and the corner of his mouth curled up.

But he forced himself to relax. He had waited like a saint for this moment. To appreciate her and become well acquainted with every inch of her body. Eris couldn’t rush it or it would end quicker than he wanted it to. 

“We wouldn’t even need rope or silk.” he said, slowly settling himself between her legs once more. He kept his eyes on her face as he finally allowed himself to touch her, letting a finger circle around one breast while his free hand engulfed the other with a squeeze. “I’ll let my fire wrap around you. It’ll keep you warm and hold you in place as I feasted on you.” He leaned closer and pressed a kiss between the valley of her breasts. “What do you think of that idea?”

“Eris, if you don’t do something in the next second I’m going to — oh.”

His mouth had descended on a breast while his hand squeezed the other and Iris couldn’t help the arch of her body and the broken whine that slipped from her lips. 

The way his mouth felt on her skin was sinful. The movement of his tongue obscene as he teased her nipple and bit gently, his hand kneading and twisting the other in the same motion as his tongue, and Iris’s hand latched onto his forearm as another soft moan slipped from her lips.

“I like that.” she breathed and Eris lifted his head, his mouth making an indecent pop of noise.

“Good. I want to know all the things you like.” he said against her skin and switched, his mouth resuming its tasting and only stopped when Iris’s panting increased and was mixed with another little whine that delighted Eris to no end. 

Without taking his eyes off her, Eris kissed his way down to where he desperately wanted to be and kissed right over the slickness coating her panties. Iris couldn’t help but shiver at his predatory gaze, his hands skimming over her lacy cover and he raised a brow, hooking his fingers into the waistline. 

She wanted his tongue on her too much to form words and with a breath, nodded once.

He wasted no time. Eris kissed her inner thighs once more then shifted, finally and agonizingly slowly, he slid the lacy scrap down her legs and tossed it. 

Instinctively, Iris’s legs attempted to close but with a tsk of disapproval, Eris forced them open, his hands holding them apart with gentle firmness. 

A heartbeat of silence and Eris had to count to ten in his head to avoid coming.

“As pretty as I thought.” he mused and it was by sheer will alone that Eris hadn’t ruined his pants yet.

“Eris — I —” she began with a flush, quickly shooting up on her elbows and her husband finally ripped his gaze from the sight of her spread beneath him to look at her.

“Who is this wetness all for, little gazelle?” he asked, his voice as soft as silk, his thumbs caressing the skin of her inner thighs, his breath hot against her core, and Iris’s toes curled. “Is it all for me? You want me to know how ready you are for me, wife?”

“Y-yes.” she whispered and though a part of her felt embarrassed at how blatantly aroused she was and how Eris was staring at her bare before him, it didn’t stop her from feeding into the way she felt and how he was making her feel. Iris didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel and let herself be worshiped. She couldn’t stop the roll of her hips if she wanted to. “It’s all for you.”

Eris’s grin was a wicked promise. “I’m going to devour you.”

The first lick of his tongue set her on fire.

Iris’s head fell back with a breathy groan as Eris feasted on her. He gave an appreciative noise as his tongue delved into her, traveling in and out then sliding to her clit and back. Iris couldn’t help the way she rolled her hips into his mouth — couldn’t stop the whimper and the breathless moan that followed his actions. His mouth closed around her clit and Eris had to pin her waist down with an arm to stop her hips from lifting as he lapped at her arousal. He sucked and licked on her bundle of nerves with deadly focus, switching between fast harsh flicks to long, flat strokes before releasing it noisily. 

“Fucken divine.” he rasped and brought a thumb back down on her clit, rubbing as his tongue slid in for another taste. “You taste exactly as I imagined. Everything I wanted.”

“D-don’t stop yet.” she whispered, circling her hips with his hand movement. “I like that.”

Eris chuckled, his hot breath making her shudder, and without another word, his tongue dived deep into her once more. He groaned into her, the taste of her sweetness undoing him bit by bit as Iris’s hands fisted into the sheets and she rolled her hips to meet his licks. 

He was indeed a man starved and the only thing that would satisfy him was for his wife to come on his tongue. 

Eris lifted his head as his thumb worked her clit to watch his wife’s chest rise and fall at his movements and he wished he had more hands to keep touching every fucken inch of her. “Ready for a little something else?”

“Yes.” she nearly begged and Eris grinned. His eyes didn’t leave her beautiful face that was etched in ecstasy as he slowly slid a finger inside her. 

Iris’s head immediately lifted and Eris swore as she tightened around his finger, her pussy pulsing. He planted a kiss on her inner thigh, watching her as he pumped his finger and let his thumb continue its movement.

“Keep rolling your hips for me, wife.” he said against her skin. “I’m going to add more. And you’re going to love it.”

Iris bit her lip, her skin flushed as she watched the movement of his finger and rolled her hips to match his pumping. Just as she started to relax into the movement, he added a second finger and Iris couldn’t help the shameless noise that slipped from her lips as her head fell back on the mattress.

Never in all her self-discovery had it felt even remotely close to this. 

“You like that, don’t you, little gazelle?” he said lowly and placed a kiss a breath away from her clit, his breath hot on her skin. “Because I like seeing you like this, spread for me. I’ve dreamed about this.”

“Y-you have such perverted dreams.” she stuttered and then moaned softly as his fingers picked up the pace. 

“I do.” he confirmed and curled his two fingers at an angle that had her back arching. “I am a very big pervert when it comes to you.”

“Oh gods.” she groaned and the pace of Eris’s pumping increased, his eyes watching her like a hawk, for he would memorize every inch of her, every movement, every reaction. He would know exactly how her body would react before she came and Eris would be there to lick up every inch.

“You’re so pretty when you’re coming undone.” he continued and couldn’t stop his mouth from replacing his thumb, sucking at her clit once more before releasing it with a groan. “You’re soaking my fingers and I can’t wait until you’re dripping all over my cock.” 

Iris’s mouth fell open as a breathless noise slipped out. The things he kept saying would be what sent her over the edge. She knew her orgasm was building with the way he kept curling his fingers and working his wicked mouth. She wanted to know what that mouth would feel like everywhere. She wanted his tongue inside her again. 

“Please.” she begged. “Your mouth.” 

Eris’s face erupted in feral delight and he let his fingers work in a frantic rhythm for another moment just to listen to the quickening of her breath and to watch as Iris rolled her hips with the movement of his hand, trying to match his pace. He knew she was getting close, her walls clamping on his fingers as she neared her release. 

But he would be damned if the first orgasm he gave her was anywhere but on his tongue.

He pulled his hand away suddenly and before Iris could protest, Eris had buried his face into her pussy and his tongue moved in ways that had her brain short-circuiting. Her breathing became heavier and Iris let her hands find their way back to his hair, firmly pressing his face into her, chasing the sweet release she knew was coming.

His fingers still coated with her slickness were now pressing and rubbing into her clit as his mouth worked on her and soon, Iris’s grip tightened as she finally reached the moment of bliss.

With a small gasp followed by a soft, “Oh.” Iris’s orgasm crashed over her. Her fingers tightened on Eris’s head and she kept rolling her hips as he carried her through her release. 

Grasping her hips firmly, he lifted her slightly, burying himself further into her, drinking in her release and his tongue didn’t stop moving as he lapped every drop of her sweetness, nearly coming himself. With one final lick, Eris slowly settled her back into the bed and watched her chest rise and fall, basking in the bliss of her climax. 

He knew without a doubt that she would be his favorite feast. He would have her come all over his face for eternity. 

His thumb continued to caress her clit as Iris shuddered through the last waves of her orgasm and Eris couldn’t help the satisfaction coursing through him as he watched her. His hand spread to cover her cunt and he rubbed into her wetness, watching as she squirmed beneath the possessive touch until she met his gaze. 

Eris kept his eyes locked on hers as he slowly licked each finger clean and then licked his lips. He glanced down at her cunt still glistening with her slickness then back at her again. 

“This. Every day. Do you understand?” he said and delighted in watching the flush spread across her skin even as she nodded.

“First thing in the morning.” she demanded and Eris couldn’t help his smirk, bringing his hand down once more to play with her wetness.

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Then right before bed again. Don’t bother with your lace scraps anymore.” he said and tested what he’d been craving to do since he had gotten her naked; he slapped her cunt suddenly and Iris’s sharp inhale filled the room. He grinned. “Do you like that, little gazelle?”

Iris rolled her hips into his touch as the light sting of the smack faded. “Do it again.” she breathed and Eris was delighted as he slapped her cunt once more with a firm hand and Iris’s skin seemed to tighten at the sensation. “I — I like that.” 

“Good. I’ll be doing it every chance I get.”  he promised then finally pulled away to stand, even as her nipples tightened at his words. “I’ve always thought you needed some spanking.”

Iris tried not to groan at the image of him spanking her and forced herself to take a deep breath before sitting up gingerly to watch as Eris finally peeled off his trousers and though she could hear how fast his heart was beating, his movements were unhurried. 

He had just sent her over a blissful edge and his movements were unhurried. She watched his face almost hungrily then her eyes dropped down to his hands and — 

“Oh.” 

The world slipped out of her before she could stop it at the sight of him in his naked glory, his cock erect and glistening with pre-cum. He was sculpted beautifully, with muscles in places she hadn’t expected – a lean, athletic build. Iris bit her lip. She was used to staring at him dressed in well-fitted attire and shirtless but she realized very quickly that looking at him naked was a much better view. 

And he looked like he needed to be licked everywhere. 

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m not going to get to come inside you the way I want to.” he said and his grin was of pure male satisfaction as he fisted his cock. 

“Well, that’s not fair.” she said, watching his hand movement then met his gaze with a raised brow. “You stared your fill. What if I want to look…and lick too?”

Iris bit back her own grin as she watched Eris close his eyes and take a deep breath, his hardened cock twitching as he squeezed it. “Can I touch you?” she asked quietly and her husband let out a pained growl.

“You never have to ask.” he said, meeting her gaze again, the fire in it spreading gooseflesh across her skin. “I’d crumble if you didn’t.”

He was standing before her, his jaw clenched, trying indeed, not to crumble and Iris bit back a smile. She moved closer to him and bit her lip as she carefully replaced his hand, wrapping her own around his erected cock and Eris swore, twitching beneath her touch. She had no idea what she was doing but she’d read enough books, and heard enough whispered scandals that she had a general idea. She could be an apt student. She would be the best student.

“Will you show me how you like it?” she whispered as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes and squeezed his shaft then stroked it firmly. “I want to make you feel good.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened at the sight of her before him. “I will show you everything,” he said tightly and Iris preened in delight as he rocked into her hand. “Everything we’ve ever done in my perverted dreams of you, I will show you.”

She couldn’t help her arousal spiking at the feeling of him in her hand, at his dirty promises. Her breasts felt heavy and she could sense wetness gathering between her legs once more as she squeezed him harder. “Do you want my mouth on you?” she asked and feeling brave from his low groan, she leaned in to kiss the tip of his cock. “Or do you want me to keep going with my hand?”

Eris swore again then grabbed her jaw in his hand firmly, pulling her up to kiss her fiercely. Iris returned his kiss with fervor, her hand still gripping his cock, pumping him slowly and she let her thumb brush his pre-cum over the tip.

“I’m going to come by your hand and then come in that pretty, pretty mouth of yours soon enough.” he said hungrily against her lips. “I’m going to cover you in come, little gazelle, but first, I need to be buried inside you. I want that cunt of yours clamped around my cock milking me for all I’m worth, yes?”

“Yes.” she breathed and gave his cock another firm squeeze. “I want you to give me everything. Come undone inside me.”

He growled as he kissed her fiercely again, thrusting into her hand once more. “How do you want me?” he asked. 

Iris licked her lips, his question unleashing image after image of all the ways she could have him. All the ways she wanted him to have her. “We have three weeks to make the most of everything until we know what comes after.” she began and Eris swore as she stroked his cock more firmly. “And in these three weeks, I will want you in every way you can think of.” she continued and his low groan had more wetness gathering between Iris’s legs until she finally released him, slowly backing onto the bed. “But for tonight… I want you as you promised me. All over me, as my husband. As my mate. As what’s mine.” Without breaking eye contact, she leaned back on her elbows and slowly spread her knees for him. “So come here and make me yours.”

Eris didn’t need to be told twice. He had his body covering hers in an instant, kissing every inch of exposed skin on his way until he reached her mouth and again, kissed her hungrily, claiming so thoroughly as always. Iris arched into his touch and moaned softly against his mouth, a small needy sound that had her husband smiling against her lips. 

He broke their kiss as he carefully laid her back and settled himself between her legs. 

“I like hearing these kinds of noises from you.” he said and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“I like that you get these noises out of me.” she replied and Eris nipped at her lips again with a small smile, a hand sliding to her core once again and he began stroking his fingers into her arousal. Another breathy moan slipped from her lips and Iris let her own hand slide between them to his cock, gripping it tightly.

The two locked eyes and matched the pace of each other’s strokes, the scent of their desire had taken over the room. It was a moment suspended in time. 

“Have I told you lately,” he began quietly, bucking into her hand as Iris rolled her hips against his fingers. “That you’ve become very tolerable, wife?”

Iris choked out a laugh and squeezed him tightly in her hand, earning her a deep groan. “And have I told you lately,” she began softly. “That you’ve become very tolerable too, husband?”

He chuckled and finally moved his hand from her arousal, wrapping a hand over the one fisting him, and didn’t remove his eyes from hers as he slowly stroked the tip of his cock up and down her slit, teasing her clit as they went.

Eris raised a brow, asking his question without saying a word, his gaze filled with emotions Iris couldn’t help but flush deeply at. 

But she nodded all the same, shifting her free hand to lay her palm open for him. His eyes flickered to her hand then back to her eyes and for someone who had considered sex a transaction, a mindless release — a clash of bodies and nothing more, the small act of her open palm was enough to unravel him completely. 

Eris slid his hand into hers and Iris intertwined their fingers. 

And without waiting another moment, Eris removed his hand to let Iris stroke him once more before guiding him to her entrance. 

A mutual groan of pleasure echoed through the room as Eris carefully eased into her and the world stilled once more around them. Their every breath and their every thought seemed to sync up to this moment. 

Inch by inch, Eris moved slowly, watching her every expression and pausing whenever she tensed, leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth and her jaw, especially as her breaths began to turn shallow. 

Iris only gripped his hand tightly as he eased out to the tip then gave one final thrust, sliding into her to the hilt and Iris gasped, her body tensing beneath his. “Oh.”

Eris sucked in a breath, holding himself as still as possible as overwhelming pleasure washed over him. This was it — this moment where everything else no longer mattered except taking care of her, where they were finally one. 

He leaned in to kiss his wife and pressed his body further into hers, letting her adjust to him. “Are you alright?”

It took Iris a moment before she could answer, letting out a breath at the sensation of being filled by him. It overpowered every other thought as Eris stretched her, his cock twitching inside her. She hadn’t felt any pain, only slight discomfort, pressure that was slowly easing, and as it eased, she felt the pleasure start to build. 

“Yes.” she finally whispered against his lips, carefully rolling her hips. “I — I feel good.”

Gingerly, he rocked into her, and the sensation of his cock deep inside her and how tightly her walls clamped around him threatened to kill him. He couldn’t help but thrust a little harder and Iris’s whimper of pleasure spurred his movements.

“And you feel so fucken good, wife.” he murmured and slowly pulled out again to the tip before thrusting hard once more and Iris’s eyes rolled back with a stuttered breath. “I told you — you would be a perfect fit.” 

Iris couldn’t do much more but whimper softly as Eris did it again, rolling his hips with each careful thrust, and soon, she had started to roll her hips up more confidently to match his movement. 

“That’s right.” he praised, and the pace of his thrusts slowly began to quicken. “You know exactly what you want, baby. Keep moving those beautiful hips for me.” “Oh, fuck.” She breathed and leaned up to kiss him deeply, her tongue teasing his before pulling back. “I want you. Make me feel good.”

Eris chased her lips once more, growling as he kissed her. “I need to keep moving, Iris.” he said tightly and slipped his hand from hers to spread her thighs further for him as her body started to relax, adjusting to his size. He rolled his hips into her, the movement slow and deep as he added. “I need to go harder. Tell me if it’s too much.” 

Iris didn’t take her eyes off his face, watching and feeling how he took his time with her. She squeezed her walls around his cock and grinned when his head fell forward with a groan. 

Iris kissed his shoulder gently then his cheek. “Go a little harder, mate. I can handle it.” she whispered and Eris’s eyes snapped to hers, his heart leaping at the words before he kissed her fiercely, diving into bliss.

No more words were said as Eris’s pace quickened, his thrusts in line with the sounds of Iris’s breathy moans. His eyes stayed glued to her beautiful face as it lit up in ecstasy and he would allow his pace to quicken, his thrusts to indeed go harder until her brows furrowed and he’d ease up, rolling his hips at a more leisurely pace until the sigh of pleasure would slip from her lips again before quickening once more.

An avalanche was building inside him as Eris Vanserra made love to his wife, claiming her as his. Iris fell into the bliss of the motions, her body taking the pleasure he gave her, trying to match his pace and giving him pleasure of her own. She felt her orgasm building and she couldn’t help tightening around his cock again, loving the way he filled her up, his grunts of satisfaction only making it more erotic for her. The way his hands possessively held her, tracing her body before sinking into her thighs again had her on fire; his touch igniting her body, an incandescent glow to their joining. They were a perfect fit, their bodies made for each other. 

“Eris —” she whined, her grip tightening on his arm as his hips quickened. “I need —”

“I know what you need, wife.” he murmured, his fingers digging into her inner thighs as he was rutting into her, his thrusts quickening then slowing down before quickening again, his hips rolling with the movement. His eyes were on her beautiful breasts bouncing before him and he couldn’t help leaning in to take one in his mouth for a soft bite as he thrust hard, grinning at the way Iris cried out. “I know exactly what you need. I’ve got you, little gazelle.” 

His mouth switched to the other breast for a quick taste before he adjusted himself to rest over her, lifting her thighs to give himself a better angle, and Iris’s breathless whimper only encouraged the movement. 

“Almost — I’m almost —” she begged, melting into his movements. “Oh, fuck.”

“Touch yourself, wife.” he demanded knowing he would not last much longer. He needed her to come. He needed them to come close together. “Play with that pretty cunt while I fuck you and come for me.”

Iris immediately obeyed, her fingers sliding to her swollen clit, her hand moving in pace with his quick thrusts, to the roll of his hips snapping against hers. 

“Good girl. You’re doing so well for me.” he praised again and Iris flushed deeply at the words, her breaths quickening. “You’re going to come for me and then I’m going to spill myself inside you because you’re mine.” His voice was guttural and his mouth descended on her exposed neck, biting. Iris bit her lip through the pleasure mixed with a hint of pain at his harshened thrusts, his pace turning frantic. “Mine.”

“And you’re mine.” she breathed and with the next thrust timed to the exact movement of her hand rubbing her clit, Iris’s body arched as she fell over the edge.

At the sound of her breathless moan of pleasure, Eris finally came with a deep groan, burying his head into the crook of her neck. He came so hard and with such force, that his vision momentarily blurred. He’d been holding on for this moment for so long that Eris couldn’t stop the rolling of his hips as he panted heavily, his come still spilling out of him as his thrusts began to slow, emptying himself inside her. Iris lay beneath him, breathing heavily, her fingers tangling in his hair and she couldn’t stop the rolling of her hips either, her silken walls still clenching around him.

It took him a moment to finally come to a stop and Eris pulled out of her slowly, the wet sound obscene as it filled the room. He nearly came again at the sight of her sex covered in him, at the way she pulsed beneath his gaze. His heart raced as he took in her flushed face, the marking of his hands on her body — his bite mark on her throat. 

This would be a sight he could never see himself getting tired of. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, letting their breathing fall into its natural rhythm and just watching each other. For all their worries and feelings, and for all their words said, everything about this moment was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Eris and Iris, as one; the mating bond seemed to pulse between them, the gold thread taut.

He watched his wife for a moment, a finger brushing her cheek as she closed her eyes against his touch and Eris had to use every ounce of will he had to force himself move. 

He had to take care of her. She trusted him and he would always take care of her. 

He returned with a damp washcloth kept warm from his magic and as gently as Eris Vanserra could be, began cleaning her up. Iris shifted at his touch and the slight wince on her face had his expression fall. “Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Iris could already feel the sense of panic bubbling inside him, so she shook her head with a small smile and requested, “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Eris gingerly lay his body over hers, the washcloth slipping from his hand and she cupped his face, kissing him softly. Eris buried his hands in her hair, groaning against her lips and that sense of delight flared in him again as she wrapped her legs around him.

He didn’t think about his release still mostly all over her even as he unintentionally bucked his hips into hers; his cock already half erect just by pressing against her.

“You did not hurt me.” she said calmly. “I liked it.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he said and nearly purred when she ran her fingers through his hair. “My husbandly duties have been performed well.”

Iris snorted and rolled her eyes. “Cauldron forbid you to go a few minutes without complimenting yourself.” 

“You have to give credit where it’s due, wife.” he asked with a smirk. “I will gladly show you again if necessary.”

Iris let out a soft laugh that had Eris’s heart skip a beat and he couldn’t help leaning in and placing a hot kiss on her mouth. 

“You have always been so eager.” she teased against his lips and Eris made a noise of agreement as he pulled back to watch her, his fingers sliding into the loose strands of her hair. 

It fell silent between them once more, both basking in the closeness and soft touching, happy to just be.

To be at peace. To be present at this moment. Where that invisible string wrapped itself around them. 

“You know…” Iris began after a moment, and color bloomed on her cheeks as she trailed a hand down his arm and then met his gaze. “This means we’ve finally consummated our marriage.”

“About time, I daresay.”

“I am now truly your wife.” 

Eris’s brow quirked. “You were truly my wife the moment we said those vows in front of everyone at our wedding.” He said dryly. “There was never a single moment where I thought otherwise.”

Iris hummed, her lips twitching at his expression. “Well, can’t say the same now, can I?” she teased then laughed as his expression flattened. 

“If you don’t take that back right this instance —”

“What are you going to do?” she challenged and Eris’s mouth slowly curled into a smirk. 

“I’m going to fuck you and that pretty mouth of yours until you’re so incoherent, the only words you can say are husband,” He said and leaned in to kiss one corner of her mouth. “Mate.” He continued, kissing the other corner of her lips. “And my name.” he finally whispered against her lips.

Iris’s pulse quickened and she squeezed her legs around him, his promise igniting her arousal once more. “Oh, then I’m most certainly not taking it back.” she said. “How else will I find out if the rumors are true?”

Eris lifted a brow and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “And what rumors might that be?”

Iris’s lips twitched as she answered, “That Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—,” she said then added in a low voice. “And they fuck like it too.”

Her husband blinked then a wicked grin slowly spread across his face. “Oh?”

“And now that we’ve consummated our marriage once…” she continued, carefully rolling her hips against his and smiling when he sucked in a breath. She whispered, “I think you should show me.”

[raens-art]

[tigerbaulm]

cockroach showdown