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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago

Text

three times

a/n: some time ago i asked you guys on a poll what dude you wanted in this story and you all chose bucky, so here it is! also, i partly blame you all for how unhinged it turned out... like you get maybe 6,69% of the blame for the push you gave me... the rest is just me being a hoe

summary: a tale of the three times a nurse was kidnapped by new york’s most notorious gang.

warnings: dark!mob boss!bucky barnes x nurse!reader x doctor!peter parker, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, mob au, mobsters!steve rogers, clint barton, tony stark, scott lang, bruce banner, the gang is called the avengers, doctor!kate bishop, enemies to lovers, kidnapping, violence, weapons, blood, being drugged, alcohol consumption, possessiveness, kissing, clothed x completely naked, panty sniffing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, oral, fingering, fisting, pussyjob, in bucky's mind it's brat taming, dumbification, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, somno, bondage, mild knife play, mild gunplay, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 11.574

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You flinched jaggedly as the dark cloth bag was finally ripped off your head. Eyes immediately squinting, they still strained to take in the unfamiliar space you’d been dragged to.

You were no longer in the hospital’s dark parking lot, nor were you in the black van you’d suddenly been tossed into, but instead, you found yourself in a dark living room. It was elegantly decorated, from the Persian rug to the dramatic, antique fireplace flicking behind the cluster of suit-clad criminals glaring down at you.

“This her?” one of them grumbled.

“Yep, one doctor as per your request,” the one who’d abducted you grinned, proudly planting a palm on his hip, “even choose a pretty one just for shits and giggles,” his starkly different mannerisms only made the others seem that much more intimidating.

The broad-figured one with a shock of sandy hair then stepped closer to where you stood, “alright, here’s the thing, doc,” his head tilted slightly to get on your level as he spoke to you directly, “you’re gonna do exactly as we say and then everything will be alright, okay?” he stared in your eyes as you offered him a shaky nod, “okay,” he exhaled, “you got a name?”

“Y/n Y/l/n…” you uttered before hearing yourself try to correct, “but I–…”

“But what?” the same man croaked.

“I-I’m not a doctor…”

“God damn it!” someone rumbled as everyone’s eyes flicked to the man who’d captured you, “we can’t fucking trust the new guy to do anything.”

“Well, she’s wearing scrubs,” he tried, frantically gesturing to your uniform, “I just thought–”

“You fucked up, Lang!” the first man who you’d heard speak barked loudly, “and now we’re not just gonna lose one of our brothers tonight, but also the head of the snake. Great fucking job,” a sharp click then caused your eyes to find the gun he yanked out, “and now she gotta die as well–”

“Wait!” you shrieked as both of your palms shot up in the air, “no! Please don’t kill me! I-I’m a nurse! I’m a nurse! I can help! Whoever’s hurt, I can help!”

Seemingly superior to the others present, the blonde one stared at you intensely for a while before exhaling a verdict, “shit… well, I guess it’s better than nothing…” his polished shoes then began to shuffle before he gestured to you, “come this way.”

Hesitantly, you slowly shadowed him out of the living room, down a dim hallway, and into the chamber that bloomed at the bottom of the corridor. In the centre of the dark room, bathed by two glowing pendants, stood a large pool table, and upon the green felt, with colourful orbs haphazardly scatted all about, there laid a man, unconscious and bleeding.

The brunette’s suit was sodden with crimson, though you couldn’t tell from here how much of it was his own.

The gangster who was standing by the side and watching over the wounded individual glanced up at your arrival and asked his fellow men, “this the doctor?”

“No, it’s a fucking stripper,” you twisted your neck at the sarcastic tone as the guy who’d only moments ago pulled a gun on you waltzed past you and entered the room as well, “yes, of course it is, Tony. How’s the boss?”

“Still alive,” he answered in a sigh and cast his glance back down upon the man on the pool table.

Slowly stepping up, you carefully let your stare wash over the mobster, from the frazzled and blood-soaked attire to the metal-looking hand poking out one of the sleeves.

“What happened?” you asked carefully.

“Miss,” someone grumbled as they set a bag of supplies down beside you on the games table, “just fix him.”

“If you wanna give your friend a better chance, then you give me as much information as possible about what happened to him,” you uttered as you found a pair of gloves and slipped them on.

Letting out a sigh, the blonde fellow then said, “it was a shootout.”

Snatching up a pair of scissors, you began to snip in the man’s clothes, staring at the sleeve closest to you, “how many times was he shot?”

“I don’t know, he–… a lot of rounds went off,” he grunted, the events of the night weighting his broad shoulders down, “I wasn’t exactly counting.”

Two bullets. That’s how many you found when his dress shirt was in tatters on the floor. One was lodged in his right arm four finger widths above his elbow, while the other had strayed a bit further north and buried itself in his bulky bicep. You also found other scrapes and scratches along his torso, assumingly from other bullets that hadn’t been as lucky as those two.

The smallest of relieved sighs flowed from your lungs as you discovered that he wasn’t in a critical enough condition to be in need of a surgeon, at least not from what you could tell with the limited resources currently at your disposal.

As you carefully set to work, first digging the bullets out before cleaning the wounds with saline, your lips slowly parted as you treaded a curved needle, “…so, not that I don’t love the change to my evening plans,” you didn’t dare shift your glance as you asked, “but don’t you have a regular guy for cleaning up these sorts of messes?”

“We did… he died tonight, trying to stop that from happening,” the blonde man gestured to the injuries you began to stitch up.

Blinking up to find his eye, you uttered sincerely, “I’m so sorry for your loss…” feeling yourself, even under such circumstances, uncontrollably slip into those compassionate parts of your profession.

A slight scoff bubbled out of the gangster, taken aback by your unexpected gentleness, “yeah, me too. Banner was one hell of a guy…”

Once each of the wounds were sutured closed and you’d bandaged him up, you pushed yourself back from the pool table.

“Alright,” you exhaled and glanced up at the criminals lurking in the shadows of the chamber, “I’m done.”

“Yeah?” one of them stepped up to get a better look, “he’s alright?”

“No, he’s not alright, he was shot multiple times and should be in a fucking hospital,” your eyes briefly fluttered shut as you heard yourself snap, “now, can I please go home?”

Catching the eye of the blonde one, second in command, you watched as his jaw briefly clenched, the muscles dancing beneath his skin before he breathed, “no, you’re not done.”

“But I did exactly as you asked–”

“Like you said, he should be in a hospital right now, but we can’t have that happen, so instead, you’re gonna stay here till he’s out of the woods.”

“What? I can’t–”

“You’re a nurse, right?” he croaked to shut you up, “so fucking do your job and nurse him back to health.”

Three whole days ended up passing by before Mr Barnes slowly began to regain consciousness.

“Oh, you’re awake!” you snapped back into work mode, springing from your seat and leaning in over the bed which he’d previously been moved into. As the mobster instinctively began to sit up, his eyes barely open yet, you laid a soft palm upon his metal arm and uttered, “sir, please don’t move,” and watched as his clenched jaw almost silenced a groan, “one second, I’ll give you something for the pain,” before you shifted a moment to scavenge through the supplies you’d been given. Once the medicine was found, you exhaled slowly as you injected it, gently pressing down the plunger of the syringe, “there you go…”

You let yourself suck in a deep breath before your sharp eyes washed over him, briefly assessing him as he woke, though as your gaze flickered up to meet his own, initially with the intent of checking his pupillary response, the manner he stared back at you caught you so of guard that a shiver trickled down your spine.

“Sir, do you know what your name is?” you asked in a clear tone.

“Mhm…” he hummed and continued to stare at you as if you were an angel, “Bucky…”

“Bucky, great, that’s good,” you nodded, “and do you know where you are?”

His gaze didn’t shift away from your visage as he then murmured, “heaven…”

“No, I assure you, you’re not dead,” grasping the stethoscope draped around your neck, you shifted it into place to take a quick listen to his heart, “you almost were, a few times, but you aren’t.”

As the steady thumping of his pulse filled your ears and seeped into your soul, his deep voice washed over you once again and layered atop the beat, “I’m guessing you had something to do with that?”

Catching his unwavering eye a moment, you then averted yours and muttered, “I was just doing my job…” before retracting the stethoscope from his chest and casting your glance towards the door, “I should probably go tell the others that you’re awake.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

“…and Mr Jensen in 401 is complaining of a headache, so you might wanna check that out as well.”

“Alright, cool,” the doctor scribbled down the last of your words on the little notepad in his palm before his gaze flickered up to catch yours, “thank you so much, Y/n,” he flashed you a warm smile.

Mirroring his expression, you hugged the charts in your grasp closer to your chest, “any time, Dr Parker.”

“Peter, please,” his thumb extended to click the top of his blue pen before sliding it into the breast pocket of his white coat, “hey, I was gonna go grab a cup of coffee right now, do you wanna join?” he tried to keep his tone casual.

Blinking back at him, your breath couldn’t help but get caught in your throat, “I–, uhm… I’d love to, but I get off in a little bit. Wednesdays are always just morning shifts for me.”

“Oh, alright,” he nodded understandingly, though the gentle rejection still tainted his features slightly.

“But another time,” you offered, successfully brightening his smile once more.

“Yeah?” his elbow curled up to lean against the supportive railing that lined the hospital hallways.

“Sure. I mean, I drink coffee, you drink coffee,” you awkwardly began to dig yourself into a hole, “the chances of us bumping into each other at the coffee cart are pretty high–”

But your sentence was then cut short as Peter’s pager suddenly pinged in his pocket.

Fishing the small device out, his eyes flickered down to the small screen before he croaked, “oh, sorry. I gotta run.”

“Of course,” you swiftly waved a hand and watched as his feet began to shuffle into a run.

“Talk later!” Peter called over his shoulder before he rounded a corner and disappeared into the maze of the hospital.

Twisting around, your feet carried you the remaining distance towards the nurses’ station overlooking the ICU. As you laid the stack of files in your arms down on the counter, a familiar voice found your ears right before her visage popped into your periphery.

“Please tell me that that was what I think it was.”

Your gaze stayed glued on the charts a moment longer as you ignored your friend’s prying, “hello to you too, Kate.”

When your head finally raised and you let her catch your eye, her wide ones questioned you before she expectantly poked once more, “well?”

“Well what?” you shrugged, though your feeble attempts at shutting the pending subject down failed as she shot you a glare, efficiently causing you to crumble with a sigh, “yes, he asked me out again–, or kinda. It was just coffee.”

“And you finally said yes?” she smiled keenly.

Holding back your scoff, you simply uttered, “no,” before spinning on your heel.

“Again?” she shuffled slightly to catch up to the pace you swiftly slipped into, “why not? He’s kind, he’s a doctor, he’s hot,” she listed off, counting on her fingers, “he’s literally perfect for you.”

“I know he is…” you tilted your head, almost with an air of shame, “he’s exactly the type of guy that I should be running after…”

Though you liked him as a person and cared for him enough to call him your friend, those feelings you caught yourself forcing just hadn’t bubbled up yet. He was the kind of man that you deserved, that you should fall for, and certainly not the monster that still haunted you, that for some reason wouldn’t stop popping into your mind, especially at inappropriate times, like very late at night…

“So then why aren’t you?” Kate asked as you entered the employee locker room.

And though thoughts of a gruff gangster caused your heart to swell, you still muttered, “I don’t know…” as an excuse before you popped open your locker and uttered, “hey… what do you know about mobsters here in the city?

“Other than the horror stories I’ve picked up in the ER, not too much,” she leaned against the row of cubbies beside your own as you dug out your bag and began to change out of your scrubs and back into the clothes you’d worn early this morning when the sun was still only a promise waiting to rise, “though I did grow up here, so I probably do know a bit more than you,” she acknowledged your move to the city only a few years prior, “why? Are you suddenly in the mood for a change in careers?”

Though the truth was on the tip of your tongue, you still found yourself obeying the commands the gangsters had sent you home with. Telling the cops was no use because they were all in their pockets, and confiding in a loved one also wasn’t a smart choice as that would only put them in danger.

“Have you ever heard of someone called Bucky Barnes?” you asked, instinctively lowering your voice to a whisper.

The ever light-hearted expression plastered upon Kate’s face fell at the recognition of that name, “yeah…”

“Really?” your brows rose, “what do you know about him?”

“I mean, other than that he’s the supposed leader of the Avengers, not too much.”

“The Avengers?”

“Yeah, one of New York’s most notorious gangs,” she let out a breath, “from what little I know, they get up to a shit ton of stuff straight out of a De Niro movie or something, but their real money maker is cocaine… I mean, that’s why the head of the group is known as the winter soldier.”

“How do you know about all this stuff?” you squinted back at her in slight amazement.

“Went to med school with a few coke heads, might have dated one of them,” she blurted before shaking her head and getting back to the subject at hand, “anyways, Y/n, the point is, you don’t wanna mess with those types, trust me.”

“I know,” you uttered quietly as you shrugged on your coat and pushed your locker closed, “I wasn’t planning on it, I was just curious…”

As you dragged your foaming toothbrush over the last of your teeth, a loud knock suddenly rattled your front door, causing you to jump atop the pink bathmat in your tiny bathroom.

Neck twisted out towards the entryway of your apartment, you briefly leaned over the sink to spit out the toothpaste slowly leaking out of your mouth, before your feet began to carry you towards the exit.

One of your palms momentarily ran over the edge of your pyjama-clad arm as the night chill soaked through the cotton and made you yearn for the warmth of your bed.

Though as you pulled on the handle, the haunting figures on the other side of the door caused your blood to freeze with recognition. Standing tall on the other side of the threshold, there stood two of the Avengers’ henchmen.

“You need to come with us,” the one called Barton ordered coldly. Over the few days the gang had held you captive, you’d picked up on the names of many of the members, including the two that stood before you now.

“What?” your chest rose and fell rapidly, “I–, please, I swear, I haven’t told a soul.”

Having them knock at your door was one thing, but even just the thought of criminals such as them knowing where you lived sent you into a spiral.

“Yeah, we know you haven’t,” Scott put a hand on the doorframe, “that’s not why we’re here.”

“What happened?” you murmured as you were led into one of the many sitting rooms in the mysterious manor they once again brought you to. In an armchair before you, half-empty glass of bourbon in metal hand and the sleeves rolled up on his blood-tainted shirt, there sat the big bad winter soldier himself, panting as he slowly sipped.

Though when the sound of your voice filled the room, Bucky’s eyes only snapped up to yours for a moment before he shot a glare at his men.

“What is she doing here?” he grumbled lowly.

“Boss, you busted your stitches,” Lang gestured tensely to the crimson slowly staining his crisp white shirt, “what else were we–”

Intersecting the conversation, the broad form of Steve stepped into the space between the gangsters and swiftly snuffed the pending argument out, “thank you, Barton, Lang,” he nodded to each of them, “you can go,” and you watched the pair that had brought you back exited the room. Shifting his weight, Bucky’s right hand man turned to you and offered you a polite smile, “Y/n, pleasure to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, not masking your disdain of the situation you’d been dragged into yet again, “I wish I could say the same…” before you shifted your eyes to the man in the chair, though still directed your question at Steve, “what do you need me to do?”

As you shifted closer to the intimidating leader, ever drinking, surely to dull the pain, Rogers murmured as you kneeled down to assess, “I think it’s just the one on his shoulder that’s–”

“Yeah, I see it,” you cut him off, then glanced back over your shoulder at him, “do you still have that medical bag?”

“Yeah, one second,” he swiftly disappeared to fetch it, leaving you all alone with the feared mob boss.

With the crackling fireplace off to the side as your only source of light, you cautiously raised your hands and asked, “do you mind taking this off?” motioning to the shirt he wore.

“Yeah, sure,” Bucky sighed and sat down his glass before shrugging the item off. Though you’d stared at his bare chest for hours on end before, soaking in his reveal once again for some reason caused your heartbeat to pick up, though you swiftly averted your gaze in an attempt at staying professional.

Not long passed before Rogers had returned with the supplies, and you’d commenced redoing his stitches.

“So,” you murmured though your concentration, weaving his skin back together, “do I even wanna know how this happened?”

Blinking down at you, your face close to your work and therefore his skin, Bucky breathed, “probably not...” and as his stare only intensified over the next few stitches, his low timbre once again washed over you as the corners of his lips tugged into the slightest of smirks, “cute PJs, by the way…”

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly get a chance to change,” you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Oh, I'm not complaining,” his gaze shifted to take in the way the cool night air had caused your nipples to become visible like pebbles beneath the thin stripy fabric, the comment making you shift tensely on your knees.

Once the last of the knots were tied off and you’d snipped the end of the thread, you wrapped the wounds back up with clean bandages before placing the roll of gauze back into the medical bag.

“Alright, uhm,” you shifted back, “you’re good now,” a slight winch shot through you as you watched him briefly test out his arm’s mobility, “just be careful, try not to use it too much.”

Catching your eye, he uttered softly, “thank you,” before shifting his gaze to the gangster by the door, “Rogers?”

“Yes, boss?”

“See to it that she gets home safe.”

ONE MONTH LATER

“I’ve heard the risotto here is really good,” Peter noted as you both skimmed the menus resting on the tablecloth before you, the crystal chandeliers illuminating the restaurant cast a soft glow down upon the choices.

“Yeah?” you briefly glanced up to catch the doctor’s eye, “well, maybe I should get that then,” you shrugged before shifting slightly in your seat, “hey,” you captured his gaze once more, “could you maybe order for me? I just need to–…” you trailed off, letting the thumb you discreetly pointed over your shoulder in the direction of the bathrooms fill out the rest of the sentence.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he nodded.

“Great, thank you,” you smiled as you rose. The long, cobalt-blue, velvet dress you wore briefly swooshed around your legs before the soft click of your heels against the polished floors carried you through the maze of tables.

It was the third date you’d ventured on with the kind doctor. The third one and yet you still didn’t have any feelings towards him.

Stubbornly trying as you might, you still couldn’t get the poison out of your system and do the right thing.

Once you exited the ladies’ room, and big breath of courage in your lungs as you pushed open the door, it all seeped out as you walked through the small hallway that connected the lavatories with the dining space, and you accidentally bumped into two figures that waited in the space.

Unsure of who was to blame for the collision, you immediately just muttered, “oh, sorry–,” before you glanced up at the pair and your apology crumbled from your lips, your frame immediately freezing up at the recognition.

“Listen to me. You are going to quietly walk back to your little date, tell him that you’re not feeling well and need to go home,” Stark kept his voice hushed as both he and the other gangster slowly cornered you, the other one grasping your arm to keep you in place, “and then you’re gonna come with us.”

Sucking in a breath, you then tilted your chin slightly, “and if I don’t?”

“Then we won’t hesitate to make a scene,” Barton shifted the edge of his jacket out of the way to flash you the gun strapped beneath, “so you can either walk with us and safe a life or you can not only have a dying gangster’s blood on your hands, but also everyone in this fucking restaurant.”

With the clench of your jaw, you glared up at them and murmured, “...fine,” before you ripped your arm free and began to walk back into the dining area and the table where Peter still sat.

Flashing you a smile as you neared, the doctor swiftly said, “so, I ordered this chardonnay that the waiter said was good. You drink wine, right?”

“I–, uhm…” your fingers clutched the back of the chair as you tried to appear as you had before, even though now you felt as if your hammering heart might spring straight out of your ribcage, “Peter, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” you briefly scrambled your brain before adding, “the hospital paged me. There was a big accident downtown.”

“Really?” he fished out his own beeper from his pocket and furrowed down at it, “I didn’t get paged, so it probably can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, but nurses shortage, you know?”

“Right,” he nodded, disappointment slightly polluting his understanding expression.

“I'm really sorry,” you uttered as you picked up your small purse from the chair.

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head gently, “hey, I get it,” he shrugged before waving a hand, “go.”

“Thank you,” you stood there a moment longer, unsure of how you should depart, “uhm… bye,” before you awkwardly shifted closer to his seat and leaned down to press a brief kiss to his cheek as you offered him a half-hearted hug.

“Who is it this time?” you sighed as you were led into an elegant space, surely intended for parties judging by the long bar that stretched along the back wall. Glaring at the only man seated on one of the barstools, you asked impatiently, “is it you? Did you hurt yourself again?”

Glancing over his shoulder as you halted your stride halfway down the short steps, a smile appeared on Bucky’s face as he leaned a forearm against the bar top and bellowed, “Y/n! Come, have a drink with me,” he waved a hand for you to take the seat beside him.

Standing your ground, you squinted back at him in confusion, “no, I can’t, I–, where’s the patient?”

“The patient?” he echoed as if you were speaking a foreign language.

“Yes,” you huffed, your annoyance simmering into a full-on boil, “the person who’s on death’s door, the reason why I, a medical professional, is here,” you placed your hands on your hips and asked once again, “is it you?”

“No, I’m phenomenal,” he pursed his lips as he snatched up the stout glass waiting for him on the marble counter, “never been better.”

“Okay, so who is it?”

Tearing his gaze away from you, he then uttered, “no one,” before raising the drink up to his lips. As your mouth parted and your glare nearly burned straight through him, the mobster casually added, “you look stunning, by the way,” before twisting in his seat to face you more, “I didn’t know they changed scrubs out with gowns.”

“No, I–, I was on a date–,” you muttered faintly through your confusion, slightly shaking your head in an attempt to clear it before you raised a hand, “wait, excuse me, no one’s injured?”

“No,” Barnes shook his head, “no one’s hurt or dying,” then added as if your reaction was a tad bit too dramatic for his taste, “you can relax, it’s fine.”

But instead, the opposite emotions roiled inside of you as you slowly ascended a single one of the remaining steps, “so you mean to tell me that your men threatened me, my date and a whole restaurant of people, then dragged me all the way out here again, for nothing?” you fumed.

“No, it wasn’t for nothing,” he shrugged, “they brought you back here because I told them to,” he kept his ocean eyes upon you as he once again repeated, “now, come drink with me.”

“No, I don’t want a fucking drink,” you roared.

But then, just as swiftly as you had raised your voice, Bucky’s steely hand dipped beneath his suit jacket and pulled out a gun.

“I asked you nicely,” his stern tone rolled off his tongue slowly as he aimed the weapon upon you, “now sit your ass down and share a drink with me.”

Carefully, you finally followed his orders and sat down at the bar beside him.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” he uttered as he sat the gun down beside his drink. Raising up a hand to the silent shadow behind the bar, a glass was soon slid across the counter, one Bukcy pushed closer towards you, “here,” he said as you stared down at the orange peel floating at the top. As you lifted up the cocktail, the gangster beside you raised his own to click yours, “cheers.”

You briefly toyed with the thought of just taking a sip, though opted instead to down it all, both out of the desperate hope that the alcohol would aid the strange evening, but also in an attempt to fast forward a tad closer to your longed-for departure, ripping the bandage off instead of nursing it all night long.

Though as you sat the glass back down on the bar, the bottom clanged against the marble much more forcefully than you’d intended as the fingers you clutched it with began to tingle. Blinking heavily a few times, your hand accidentally knocked over the empty drink as a numbing sensation began to bloom within your chest and spread throughout your body.

Trying to get up from your seat, you mumbled foggily, “what the hell?” though quickly stumbled as your legs felt like jelly beneath your velvet gown.

“Whoa, careful now, angel,” Bucky’s calm gaze trailed you chillingly as you tried to steady yourself.

“The fuck did you do?” you panted as your wide eyes watched him raise from his seat.

“It's okay,” he uttered softly, “it’s all gonna be okay,” before your world turned to black and you passed out into his arms.

When you finally stirred, you were no longer at the bar, nor any other room you’d been in before. You were in a bedroom, situated on a spacious mattress and alongside countless fluffy maroon pillows.

As you sat up, a low rustling found your ears and drew your vision down towards the coldness clinging around your ankle. Strung between the bottom corner of the bedframe and your own foot, there shined a chain, one that, try as you instinctively did, you couldn’t snap out of.

But then, as the door to the room creaked open and caused your body to flinch, a plea swiftly flowed out of you as you watched Rogers step inside, balancing a small tray with a glass and a tall decanter of clear water.

“Steve!” you crawled to the bottom of the bed, “I–… help me, please,” you begged, hearing tears thicken up your voice as they rolled down your cheeks, “you’re a good man, deep down I know you don’t wanna stand by and let this happen. Can you unlock me? Please? Help me get out of here.”

But just as you waited for Steve’s lips to part, you instead heard, “shh, don’t waste your breath, honey,” as in strolled Bucky, causing you to swiftly scramble as far back on the bed as the chain would allow.

Sitting down in a chair just out of your reach, the fireplace opposing the bed, directly behind where he sat, clacked and lit up his spine as he settled into the seat and directed his cold gaze upon you.

“Glad to see you awake,” he uttered calmly.

“Fuck you!” you swiftly spat as you hugged your knees tightly to your chest.

“And with all of your charms still intact,” he tilted his head, a light smirk blooming on his lips as your vulgar language hadn’t fazed him one bit.

“Let me go,” you demanded.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, my angel,” his burly arms folded across his chest, “this is for your own protection,” he briefly gestured to the chain, “we wouldn’t want you to do anything stupid or rash now, would we?” one of his eyebrows twitched, “I can’t let anything happen to you,” he uttered as you continued to stare daggers at him, “you need to be kept as safe as possible so you can keep on helping me the way that you have.”

“What? You want me to be your gang’s personal nurse?” you scoffed, “is this your sick and twisted way of offering me a job, because if so, no thanks!”

“Yeah, no, this isn’t a job offering, I’m not interested in those talents of yours,” he leaned further back in the seat before he began to explain, “you see, for the past few years, I’ve had a serious string of bad luck. Deals have fallen through, rats have been found, the feds have been snipping at our heels and countless of my men have lost their lives,” he listed off, “but, then I met you,” his eyes flickered up to capture your own, “and it all turned around,” he uttered, “I tell you, when you’re here, it’s fate herself is on my side and nothing whatsoever could go wrong. Like having you has made me a fucking god or something, that’s the level of power you’ve bestowed in me,” a faint smile tugged at his lips as those words rolled off his tongue, “so no, you can not leave. You have to stay right here where I can make sure you’re safe and sound. Although, just because you get to be kept safe, that doesn’t mean you’re free of any consequences if you step out of line… it also doesn’t mean that I’ll deny anyone of your beauty if it pleases them… so, I guess it’s more along the lines of you just staying alive under my watch.”

In the blind rage his words threw you into, your fingers wrapped around the bedside lamp before you chucked it across the room. Though just before it could strike the gangster’s head, he casually ducked out of the way, the lamp instead smashing on the floor behind him as a chuckle began to rumble within his chest.

“That’s cute,” he laughed lowly, “you’ve got some bite. It’ll get you in trouble, but it’s adorable.”

“I'm not interested in being your good luck charm, you superstitious fuck!” you yelled as he got up from his seat.

Huffing out a condescending grin, “give it some time, angel,” he fastened the button on his dark suit jacket before smoothing a palm down over the front, “the human psyche is much more fragile than you’d think and can get used to some surprising conditions,” he ignored the scream that desperately tore from your lungs and instead turned to Steve standing by the door and asked him calming, “Rogers, would you mind cleaning that up?” gesturing to the broken lamp on the floor, and as he received a small nod in return, he murmured, “thank you,” before exiting the room and leaving you to your fate.

“Seriously?” Steve let out a laugh when he finally coaxed the truth out as to why you hadn’t been touching any of the food they’d brought you, “and here I thought you were just a picky eater.”

“Well, you’ve already drugged me once so what’s stopping you from doing it again,” you explained, glaring down at the plate before you as he attempted to stifle his laughter.

“I swear, cross my heart, your pasta is not poisoned.”

Continuing to squint down at the food, you kissed your teeth, “prove it.”

“Really?” his brows floated up, “alright,” he sighed as he sat down across from you. Dragging your plate closer, he twirled some of the spaghetti onto the fork before slipping it into his mouth, “see?” he chewed, “I’m fine, and so will you be when you get some food in that belly of yours.”

Pushing it back towards you, hesitantly, you picked up the fork and slowly began to eat. It had only been little things you’d consumed the past couple of days being here, things you could be certain weren’t tainted, like the odd apple and such.

Though as you chewed and finally began to settle your stomach’s nauseating rumbling, tears began to stream down your cheeks.

No matter how hard you tried to beg, none of the mobsters would help you, as their loyalty was just too hard for you to crack.

“Hey…” your bloodshot eyes then flickered up to Rogers as he noticed your weeping, “it’ll get easier, I promise,” he attempted in a soft tone.

“How?” you blinked back at him hopelessly, “I am being locked up in a room by a maniac as if I’m just some trinket for him to own.”

Throwing a brief glance over his shoulder, he then leaned in a bit closer to cautiously advise you, “…there might be some things you could do to change your situation…”

“What?” a spark suddenly flickered within you, “I’d do anything.”

“…you might consider trying to get closer to Barnes…” his words remained hesitant, “…if he begins to care for you, then he might treat you differently…”

“Like, he’d let me go?”

“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “but maybe it could get that chain off your ankle,” he gestured to your foot, “baby steps.”

ONE MONTH LATER

“Here,” Steve croaked as he suddenly burst through the doors to your room, a big flat box in his arms which he tossed on the bed beside you. Peeking inside, a folded-up bundle of black fabric met your eye, “put it on,” he ordered hastily, “make yourself presentable.”

“Why?” you blinked up at him, your brows knitting gently together.

“Because the boss requested it,” he answered impatiently.

“What, he wants to play dress up with me now? Treat me like a doll?”

Over the past month, you had gone from being scared out of your mind, barely sleeping at night, horrified of what they might do to you, till the paralysing fear slowly began to melt away as not much happened at all, in fact so little that you grew bored in your imprisonment, thinking that the big bad gangsters were just all bark and no bite. Perhaps that was a dangerous confidence to develop, growing cocky in your restlessness, but you couldn’t help it.

Letting out a low sigh, “just put it on,” Rogers’ head tilted before he said, “I’ll be outside, yell when you’re done.”

Popping the lid off all the way, you then slipped into the black gown waiting within. It was long and simple in its beauty as it hugged all of your curves like a second skin.

Right before you called out to the mobster in the hallway, you leaned in closer to the mirror on the left side of the room. The dark storm clouds visible out the gothic windows that filled up the wall behind you blossomed in the reflection alongside you as you momentarily fussed with your hair to make it match the elegant dress better.

Once Steve had entered the room once again, the very last thing you expected was what he did next.

Walking straight up to you, without a word, he bent down and unlocked the chain binding you to the bedpost. At first, a wave of hope washed over you till it was drowned out by the unsettling notion as to where he would take you and just what plans were on the horizon.

Grabbing you by the arm, he dragged you out of the room and down the dark hallway you’d only seen glimpses of before. You tried to ask him what was going on, though he didn’t offer you any clue in return, only remained silent as he hauled you through the maze-like manor till a wide set of steps found you, leading you down into a garage where a group of the other gangsters already stood beside the black car rolled up by the base of the stairs.

Standing in the middle with an arm resting against the roof of the vehicle, Bucky’s gaze swiftly landed upon you as you ascended the stone steps.

“Well,” the mob boss’ eyes roamed your form, “don’t you look pretty.”

Biting your tongue, you greeted him politely, “Mr Barnes.”

“Shall we go?” he cracked open one of the car doors.

“Where?” you tried, though your question only caused him to breathe out a smile as he ignored it and instead commanded softly.

“Get in the car, angel,” his metal arm rested atop the door.

Riding in a different vehicle than you, it was Clint who slipped in behind the wheel of your car and drove you the silent route towards the mysterious destination.

Though once the car came to a stop, the door to your left cracked open from the outside and there to greet you was an outstretched metal hand to help you exit.

You didn’t recognise the building that loomed before you, though it was grand and opulent with large steps leading you and all the other arrivals up to what sounded like a party already buzzing on.

“So, you needed a date,” you exhaled as Barnes took your arm and began to lead you up the stairs, a cluster of his men shadowing behind you both.

“No,” he cocked his head, “I didn’t need it...”

Casting your glance around at the other guests that passed, you asked, “what kinda party is this anyway? Let me guess, human trafficking auction?” you were completely serious, though still managed to make the gangster laugh gently.

“It’s a wedding,” his chuckle finished billowing out of his lungs, “or a funeral,” he tilted his head, “I'm not quite sure.”

“How could you not be sure?” you shot him a glance as you reached the top of the steps and he dragged you inside the marbled halls, “there’s a pretty significant difference.”

“They all just kinda melt together at this point,” he sighed, “I have at least one of these a week I gotta show my face at, just out of respect.”

Taking a look around, you uttered, “well, do you at least know who this funeral wedding is for?”

“No fucking clue,” he exhaled before following the signs and leading you into the venue’s ballroom.

Turns out it was a wedding for some couple you hadn’t yet spotted, though you’d already read their names a thousand times with all the stuff they were plastered upon.

You stayed quiet and lingered by Bucky’s side as he shook some people’s hands and made some small talk before the two of you found yourselves seated at one of the many round tables in the hall.

Blinking up at the floral centrepiece, your fingers fiddled with the white tablecloth as the hours rolled by. Soon, not only the complementary glass of champagne you’d been handed back when you arrived was sloshing in your belly, but also quite a bit more alcohol as you decided that was a good tool to make the evening more bearable.

It however also came with the hindrance of boosting your cockiness as you eventually found yourself poking the bear.

“You know for a big bad gangster,” you stared over at him, leaned back in the seat next to yours, “you’re actually not that scary up close,” you pursed your lips, causing a chuckle to rumble within his chest because of just how untrue that statement was, “smiling at everyone, being polite. Are you sure you really are the big bad winter solider? The king of New York with no heart and only an imagination for torture…”

“Well…” he huffed out a short laugh as he met your gaze, “don’t you have me just all figured out.”

“Some of your guys may have filled me in a bit,” you tilted your head.

“Have they now?” he continued to look amused.

“Yeah, well, a bit at least,” you seized your glass and took another sip.

As you placed the flute back down on the table and rested your cheek in a propped-up palm, your stare only intensified into a squint as Bucky’s eyes flickered back around the room.

But as his gaze fluttered back to notice your gawking, he muttered, “what?”

“Why aren’t you mean tonight?” you uttered through the haze fuzzing up your mind.

Tongue flicking out to wet his lips, his eyes briefly dipped before he uttered, “do you want me to be mean?” a playful smirk twitched at the corner of his lip in a threat to appear.

“Is it all just a lie?” you asked, the subtext of his previous words flowing directly over your dizzy head.

“What?”

Squinting back at him, you then breathed, “there’s always a part of me that’s still scared, imagining what you might do to me… but now,” you slowly drew out, “I don’t think you’re actually ever gonna do anything,” you blindly decided, “that’s not really who you are, they’re all just empty threats…”

“Hm…” he hummed, a slight smile blooming upon his lips as he stared back at you, “okay…” before he leaned in closer to utter, “and just what makes you think that I haven’t already?” your face immediately dropped as his words caused your frame to freeze up, “tell me, Y/n,” his breath fanned across your cheeks, “did you sleep well last night? Or the night before for that matter, or–, well, just during the time you’ve spent here with me?”

As your shock not only showed in your expression but also in your complete lack of speech, he simply grinned back at your stunned features before grabbing you by the hand and breaking the moment.

“Come on,” he dragged you with him as he then stood up himself, “let’s dance.”

With an argument on the tip of your tongue, the appendage, just as the rest of you, still remained too dumbfounded for it to come to fruition. You didn’t manage to gather your wits once again till he had you on the middle of the floor, wide hand on your waist as you swayed to the music.

As his hold slowly tightened and he brought you closer to his broad frame, your breath suddenly hitched as you blinked up into his eyes, the air between you growing thick. The hand that grasped your own near swallowed your palm in a dizzying contrast. Goosebumps began to erupt across your skin as you felt your heartbeat thump not only in your chest, but also much further south, a mortifying clue to the dark truth you hoped he didn’t somehow notice.

Gliding his palm up the length of your spine, it came to rest between your shoulder blades as he then drew you in closer and your gaze fell to the band strumming over his shoulder.

“Does the thought of me playing with you at night turn you on?” he whispered in your ear and continued to gently sway you to the music, “because if you want me to wake you, all you have to do is ask. Though my attempts so far at rubbing your luck off on me have been rather eventful, I’m still sure it would be better if you gave me a bit of a hand…”

Tilting your head back to blink up at him, you thought you were gonna spit him in the face for making such an accusation, till your stare acted of its own accord and fluttered down to fixate on his lips.

It almost felt as if they were calling for you, begging you closer like a stubborn magnet. But before you could close the short distance that kept you two apart, Barton appeared in your periphery and tapped his boss on the shoulder.

As he leaned in to whisper in his ear, you couldn’t pick up on the words over the music, though watched as Bucky’s face swiftly grew hard.

“What’s going on?” you asked as the secretive message came to an end and the mobster’s wide hands faded from your frame.

Ignoring your question, Bucky instead cast his glance over your head at one of the men behind you and ordered sternly, “Stark? Get her home, now.”

“What’s happening?” you tried again, though without success as Tony dragged you away and the remaining gathered to converse in hushed tones.

Perhaps it was because of the chaos of whatever was happening, perhaps just a simple mistake, but when you returned back to the manor, the shackle wasn’t reunited with your ankle.

Not willing to let that gift slip through your fingers, you soon grasped that opportunity tight and made an attempt at your escape.

Sneaking down the many hallways, you successfully hid from a handful of gruff-looking men before you realised you couldn’t remember the path to the garage or any other way out of the labyrinth of a building that kept you swallowed in the dark.

However, your mission turned into a swiftly sinking ship as soon as you rounded the wrong corner and crossed the threshold of the last room you should have entered.

In the centre of the space stood two chairs, both with individuals strapped to them, though only one of them was still alive. Before the seated pair and with his back turned to your frozen-up form, there stood Bucky. Returned from the party and with both his jacket and tie torn off, his sleeves were rolled up though still tainted in small crimson flecks of the deed he’d just done.

“Come on, Vladimir…” Barnes uttered as he kneeled down in front of the battered man still breathing, neither he nor the other members in the room haven noticed you in the doorway, “just give me what I want and we can wrap this up.”

Wheezing painfully through his broken nose, the man met Bucky’s steely gaze before fulfilling his request, “…I’m sorry…”

“Hm?” he leaned in pettily, “what was that?”

“I’m sorry,” the tied-up man repeated with a laboured huff.

“Okay, getting there,” he nodded, “what are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for killing Bruce…” the name rolled off Vladimir’s tongue like a crackle to a bonfire.

“And?” Bucky fished.

“For hurting you…”

“See? That wasn’t so bad now,” Barnes straightened back up, “an apology, a life for the one you took from me, and now there’s just one last thing left to do, and then we’re even,” he then took one step back and conjured his gun. Aiming it at the Russian, barely a second passed before a shot deafened everyone’s ears and a bullet blasted through the tied-up man’s arm, mirroring the injuries Bucky himself had sustained. The loud blast and the bloodcurdling scream that tore from Vladimir, however, caught you so off guard that a shriek slipped from you as you flinched, revealing your presence as everybody’s eyes suddenly shifted to train on you. Glancing over his shoulder, Bucky grunted, “what are you doing out? What is she doing out?” he shot his glare in the direction of Steve off to the side, “Rogers? Get her back into bed.”

“Yes, boss,” his right-hand man swiftly nodded before catching up to you in two long steps and seizing your arm.

And as you were dragged back to your doom, your eyes caught the tail end as Barnes let out a sigh and turned back around to face his victim, “now, where were we? Right! I believe the other one was right around here,” another gunshot echoed in the manor as he shot Vladimir’s arm once more, “and now, we can’t forget about the ones that only skimmed me, so get up and don’t fucking flinch, it’s on you if I hit your lung.”

The chain reunited with your ankle jingled as you twisted on the bed to cast your gaze out the window. Heavy rain hammered against the tall panes as the restless city twinkled through the darkness of the night. In the corner of the room, Steve watched up like a hawk as you continuously failed to find rest.

But then, just as you thought you felt your heartbeat return to a normal rhythm, the double doors burst open and in paced Bucky.

“Is she awake?” he huffed, though didn’t wait for an answer before he heatedly went on, “okay, great.”

As his rushed steps halted by the foot of your bed, the look in his eye caused your body to shudder.

“Rogers?” he kept his cold stare glued on you as he uttered, “go wait outside.”

Though you silently pleaded with your eyes for the mobster to stay, it was no use as Steve swiftly shut the doors behind him.

As the man before you then shifted, your wide eyes finally noticed the bundle of rope in his grasp as he began to unravel it. Scrambling back, you didn’t manage to crawl far away before Bucky caught the chain and yanked it hard enough to force your frame down towards him. Though your struggling finally fizzled out when the gangster pulled out his gun, the very gun he’d just ended a life with, and aimed it at your head to get you to comply.

“You know,” he uttered gruffly like a pent-up bull, “I’ve been nice, I’ve been real well behaved, kept my manners intact, been a goddamn gentleman,” the heavy weapon in his hand tilted slightly to emphasise his words, “but evidently, that’s not what you need to learn your fucking place,” he fumed before letting out a low exhale, “that’s alright…”

“Bucky, please,” tears blurred your vision as you held up your palms, “I-I understand, I’m sorry, you don’t have to do this.”

“Oh, but I do…” he sighed almost softly as he then kneeled down closer and let the tip of the cool barrel stroke your cheek, “…if you don’t break a horse, then she’ll never be tamed…” his eyes trailed after the line he drew before it flickered up to find your own, “now give me your hands,” he ordered and hesitantly, you shakily obeyed.

Since you couldn’t stay in your place, he simply had to tie you down better.

Unfurling the rope in his grasp, the mobster then fastened the cord around not only both of your wrists, but also your free ankle. After each of the tight knots were tied off, he yanked each appendage to the nearest corner of the bedframe, spreading your limbs till you looked like a starfish on the mattress.

Taking a step back to admire his handiwork, his fingers then dipped down into his pocket before a slight furrow found his brow as his touch didn’t locate the item he fished for. Placing the heavy gun in his palm down on the fireplace mantel, he then closed the distance towards the exit and cracked open the door just a smidge.

“Rogers?” he extended a hand through the sliver, “give me your knife,” to which a switchblade was swiftly placed in his palm, replacing his own which was still lodged deeply inside the corpse of the Russian in the other room.

Slamming the door behind him, he then crossed the room and silently began to cut your clothes off. The black gown you still wore came off with only a few slices, though your underwear, that he took his time with, slowly grazing the blade over your goosebump-ridden flesh before nicking the cotton clinging tightly to your frame.

Once you were bare before him, his feet shuffled back slightly as he let his stare soak up every millimetre of you.

A hand floated up to tug on his tie and loosen it slightly from around the collar still dappled with the blood of his enemy. Folding closed the knife with a faint flourish, he then sank down into the armchair directly behind him. The tattered panties he’d sliced from you were still clutched tightly in his hand as his eyes stayed glued upon your frame. Bringing the fabric up to his nose, his blue eyes then fluttered closed for a second as he breathed deeply, letting the scent of you flood his senses.

But as he stuffed the cotton down into his pocket and let his palm drift to somewhere else, your eyes grew even wider as you gasped, “what are you–”

“Just shut up, please,” he groaned, sounding like he was at his very last straw as he brashly began to rub himself through his pants, “just for one fucking second, don’t be a brat.”

Your jaw couldn’t help but hit the floor as he shamelessly pulled out his cock, letting the intimidating hardness spring free of its confines before he spit in his palm and enclosed his fist around the fat girth. You wanted to look away, you truly did, but you just couldn’t, a flaw he obviously noticed.

“You’re unbelievable…” he chuckled as his fist silkily stroked up and down his cock, the mixture of his own spit and the precum beading at the tip caused a sloppy melody to fill the room at each and every twist, “I mean, me being into you, that’s one thing, that makes sense, you’re the closest thing to magic that I’ve ever experienced, so of course that’s enough to get me going, but you… you’re the very textbook definition of a good girl and here you are pining after–, how was it again you put it? A superstitious fuck?”

Stunned at his accusation, you tried to tear your stare away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Really? Well, I didn’t take you for a fool, but hey,” he tilted his head, “some folks are just that disconnected to their own feelings.”

Blinking back at him, you scoffed faintly, “you’re crazy, I’m not–…” but you couldn’t even say it out loud as you, deep down, knew that it was a lie.

“Oh yeah?” he cocked a brow, finding your flustered state amusing, “then why did you almost kiss me tonight?”

“I–…I was drunk.”

Letting out a dark chuckle, “alright, sure,” he then rose from his seat and crawled up on the bed with you before he buried his face between your parted thighs, “if you despise me so much, then why are you so fucking wet?” his hot breath fanned across your core.

“I’m not–,” you tried, though your attempt then fell short as he proved you wrong, reaching out his touch to tickle at your lightly and let the wet sounds of your arousal slosh into your soul.

“Hm?” the broad pad of his thumb gently brushed over your glistening petals, making them part for him, “if this isn’t because deep down you want me, then why? I’d love to hear you try and explain your way out of this one…”

“I-I–…” your eyes fluttered as you tried to fight the feeling, “I don’t…”

Laughing lightly through the scoff that then bubbled out of him, he averted his gaze and said, “okay, fine. You wanna play that game?” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “if you need a bit of help in order to admit the truth, then that’s what you’ll get,” he uttered before suddenly stuffing two of his fingers inside of you.

Craning his neck, he tilted down to catch a taste. You tried to hold back your moans as his digits caressed you, but the softness of his velvety tongue came as such a shock that a little squeak managed to slip out past your lips.

“I mean, if it’s any consolation,” his stubbly chin glimmered with your essence as he retracted slightly to smirk, “I personally think it’s kinda cute that you have a crush on me like a little schoolgirl…”

He then sent his palm down upon your pussy in a wet smack, before repeating the action a couple of times to echo the jolt it shot through your body.

“Fuck…” he groaned in a low rumble, “you are so much more pretty awake…” he revealed casually, “sure, you make some cute noises in your sleep, but not like this,” you instinctually tried to stifle the uncontrollable whimpers that flowed from your lungs, “you should really be thanking me for all of the time and effort I’ve put into stretching this little hole of yours out,” his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, “if I hadn’t, well then you might just split in two when I finally get my cock in there.”

And as he leaned down to lap you up once more, you curled your toes as you felt him push you closer to the edge.

“Mr Barnes…” you attempted with an air of respect through your pants, “please don’t–…”

“Why? Because it makes you want to kiss me again?” he teasingly taunted you before continuing his persistent licks, bullying your clit into submission.

And as he kept going, even as you gasped, “stop–, a-ah!” he still kept his lips locked around your puffy pearl long after a gush of squirt wept around his fingers, keeping his efforts up till your hips were bucking back in sensitivity.

But when his kiss finally ceased, he let some of your juices, that had flooded into his mouth, trickle out past his lips and back down onto your pussy, “fuck…” his low groan nearly caused the whole room to rumble, “nasty little cunt…” before he slapped your throbbing core once more, watching as the last little trickle weakly leaked out and soaked the sheets below.

Lifting himself up to hover above your constricted form, you then squirmed as you felt him nudge the bulbous tip of him against you.

“Does the idea of liking, or even loving, someone like me scare you that much?” he uttered as he gathered up your slick and smeared it with his cock, “does it make you feel all wrong and icky inside that I of all people make you feel the way that you do?”

All of the air in your lungs was then suddenly knocked clean out as he, with one long stroke, slipped all the way inside, before pulling right back out to tap the weight of him against your poor clit with the hold he had at his base.

“You won’t spontaneously combust if you admit it out loud, you know…”

He repeated the motion, plugging you up completely before he denied your cunt the chance of getting used to the stretch.

“I just wanna hear you say it…”

And on the next time he filled you up to the brim, this time his hips didn’t retract.

Reeling as you fought to comprehend the manner his girth split you open, you gasped weakly, “I can’t…”

“Hmm…” his eyes above you narrowed slightly before he pointed out, “that’s not a no,” and he began to move, “finally getting somewhere…”

The gangster was in no way gentle as he started to fuck your pussy, the selfish force of it caused your body to jostle every time his heavy balls tapped against your slick skin, thereby conducting a lewd beat each time he slammed into you.

Lowing himself to get even closer to you, his nose ghosted against your own from the proximity. The gesture made you assume that he was about to press his lips to yours, though they never touched, even as your own instincts overwhelmed you and made you dizzily tilt up to try and close the gap, “nah-ah-ah,” he swiftly clicked his tongue and moved out of your reach, “admit the truth and then I’ll kiss you all you want.”

With his length still embedded deep within you, he sat back up. His fingers dented your hips as he grabbed onto them and then began to sink them harshly down against his own, lifting your frame entirely off of the mattress as he used you like a toy.

“Oh god…” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered down to notice the faint bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, the thrusting imprint of his size visibly showing just how deep he buried himself inside of you.

Once he’d plopped your hips back down onto the bed, his hands then instead floated up to play with your tits, the rhythm he offered you causing them to jiggle in his palms. Though once he’d fiercely pinched your nipples and parted ways in a brief tap, his fingers then drifted further down south till his right hand found your puffy clit.

Casting his glance down as he rubbed your pearl, a smirk appeared on his lip as he spotted the way your cream coated his girth. Sweeping down to smear his touch against it, what he did next caught you so off guard that you jostled wildly in your binds in an attempt to hit him for his audacity.

“Ahh!” you yelped as he stuffed two of his fingers in your pussy alongside his already overwhelming girth, “Buck, no, it’s too much!”

But your squeak only caused him to chuckle as he stared down at the way your little hole struggled to take what he gave it, clinging around him so tightly that loud groans began to billow from him as he soon painted your insides white and pumped you full of his cum.

With heavy breaths, he withdrew his dick, though let his digits stay inside your warmth.

“Maybe in time you could become more than just my good luck charm…” he murmured as he flopped down to curl closer to your core, “would you like that?” he nipped at one of your thighs as his load slowly began to leak around his thick fingers, “does the idea of me falling down to my knees before you and declaring my undying love entice you, angel?”

“You’ll just have to do better,” he continued as his digits began to twist within you, “let me mould you and make you perfect for me,” another one of his fingers was stuffed inside of you, causing your eyes to flutter, “just let go,” he breathed, “shut off your brain and let it become a leaky mess just like your pussy already is for me,” he worked another digit into your creamy cunt before grazing the last one against your stretched out opening, “you don’t need to think, you just need to do exactly as I tell you to and everything will be okay,” his tone was soft as his thumb curled close to the others and sank into your pussy with a pop, “just break for me, it’s okay,” your body was shaking beneath him as his entire fist slowly twisted within you, “you’ll be so much more perfect ruined…”

Tears were streaming down your face as you unravelled once more, trembling violently as your pussy clamped down around his wide hand so tightly that it was forced all the way out, a drizzle of your nectar once again spraying out at the intensity.

“Alright!” you let out a sob, “alright… I–… I don’t understand it… but, I–…” you caught his eye and confessed, “ever since the moment I met you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you… even when I fall asleep, it’s like you’re haunting me in my dreams…” a faint shake found your head as you blinked up at him through your blurry vision, “I don’t wanna feel this way. But–… I do.”

It seemed as though time stood still as Bucky stared down at you, an unreadable expression tinting his features before he finally shifted, slowly leaning down over you and inching closer before he finally pressed his lips to your own.

A faint whimper was muffled against his kiss as you felt the world crumble around you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it now…” he breathed as he ended the soft peck, “say it again,” his hand slid over your jaw, “practice makes perfect.”

Blinking up into his eyes, you uttered from the bottom of your heart, “I am yours,” a single tear rolled down your cheek as you still trembled beneath him.

“Damn right you are…” his lips tilted into a smile.

Fishing out the borrowed switchblade that still rested within the gangster’s pocket, he then sliced through the ropes and constricted you.

Tangling your arms around his neck as you sat up, you captured his lips once again and felt his touch slide down under your ass before he scooped you into his lap. Your sore pussy wept against his cock, once again throbbing and hard as a rock against your core. As your tongue danced against his own, you couldn’t help but scramble even closer, pressing your body impossibly close to his own as you grinded down against him.

“You are mine,” he groaned as he manhandled your frame in his hold and sank you back down onto his fat dick, “you are my most prized possession,” your bodies met in sticky claps as the aftermath of the rough round moments before still oozed all over this one where passion crackled behind both of your own desperate efforts, “I will never let you go,” he blinked up into your eyes as you rode him, both of you clinging to each other as the end crept ever nearer, “always need you–,” his sentence was briefly broken up by a moan as you rolled your hips, your pussy gripping around him and squeezing him tightly, “need you by my side…”

Once your synced-up orgasms had both shuddered your senses and you were sharing each other’s breath, your eyes remained locked as his throbbing cock stayed buried deep within you.

“So, what now?” your chest rose and fell as you whispered into the night, the pitter-patter of rain splashing against your windows once again catching your attention as it swept over and mingled with your laboured pants of breath.

Not shifting his gaze, his eyes briefly scanned your own in search of any ounce of deception, before his fingers dipped down into his pocket and conjured a tiny key, “now,” and he stretched down to undo the chain at your ankle. The click of the lock felt like a gasp of real air was finally filling your depraved lungs, “I take you to my room,” and he manoeuvred you around to slink one arm in behind your knees while the other stayed fast at your spine. As he rose from the bed, he plucked you up with him as well, carrying you in his hold as he exited the bedroom.

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sobbingscripter · 7 days ago

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Tags: [mlw][mdni][fingering][passionate][ex!fwb][quiet reader][slight breeding kink][light choking][hair pulling][quiet sex][no nudity][nipple play][nipple sucking][promise of pregnancy][low-key right person; wrong time][not proofread because my beta reader's asleep]

"I have a fucking kid and you didn't think to tell me?!"

Dick's voice is low, frustration bleeding into his words and his fingertips dig into his palms, blunt nails leaving crescent indentations in the flesh as he stares down at you.

The worst part is, you look so fucking nonchalant about it too.

Sitting crossed legged on the couch, a mug of steaming hot chocolate cradled in your hands and a plate of cookies resting on the surface of the coffee table. The TV plays one of the older episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, and God, the sight of you so relaxed while watching trashy TV makes Dick falter in his anger.

"How do you know he's yours or even mine?"

You speak, your voice soft and gentle, despite the way your eyes burn with annoyance at the fact that Dick's just.... Standing there, in your space, his suit clinging to him like a second skin in the way it always has.

Dick leans forward, his breath fanning across the surface of your face and he gives you the opportunity to see the stormy rage that swirls in brilliant blue irises, darkened by the sense of betrayal at the fact that you've kept his son from him for so long.

"Because he looks like me. He looks fucking just. Like. Me." Dick grits the words out like they're liquid sulphur, burning his throat on the way out.

Before he lets out a breath, dropping onto the seat beside you and he cards a gloved hand through his hair.

"And he told me I look.... Romani. And proceeded to call me a 'gypsy bastard'."

Your apartment looks different from when he was here last.

Warm, pale blue walls, a dark leather sofa and a bigger TV mounted on the wall. Fuzzy blue throw pillows and the bowl of fruity gummies on the coffee table is a fun new addition, just like the drawings that line the walls of the living room, and clutter on top of the fridge.

On each drawing, Dick can make out the scribbled out 'Mommy And Me', usually in a colour that has no match in the palette and he can't deny the heaviness in his heart when he reads that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dick speaks softly, hands moving to carefully remove the mask from his face, tossing it onto the coffee table and he grabs one of the throw pillows, resting it on his face.

You can practically smell his emotions.

Confused, hurt, betrayed. Frustration's a big one though, and you purse your lips.

"I didn't wanna have the 'is it mine' conversation."

You speak so softly, so sweetly and it reminds Dick of how much motherhood's softened you. It reminds him of the way that you'd have pushed him out the window for showing up unannounced, but instead, you're letting him sit on your couch, and you talk.

Not argue.

You just... Talk.

"I'd know he was mine." Dick murmurs. "We were... Exclusive."

The way Dick says it makes you feel like it was more than just occasional hookups, more than the odd movie date that ended with your ankles touching your ears.

The silence between you is comfortable.

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops dropping against your aluminium window, pot plants on the terrace watered so gently and the TV continues to play, although at a much softer pace.

Dick lowers the pillow, looking at you with big, almost teary blue eyes. Eyes framed by long, inky lashes, full brows and striking hues that make you feel like your breath is dying in your throat with every passing second.

"He's beautiful."

Dick's voice is soft.

"A little bit of an asshole, but he's beautiful."

Before you can answer, before you can even fathom properly what Dick's saying, you hear the crack of a door and the shuffle of tiny feet as Riot stumbles into the living room, fists balled and rubbing at his eyes.

"Mommy, my eye." He sniffles, continuing to scratch at his eye before you let out a quiet hum, your hands hooking underneath the little boy's armpits before you tug him onto your lap.

And you open his eye, the sclera just a bit red and you hum softly.

"Dickie, can you put on the light, please?"

Dick doesn't question the nickname, because it makes his heart swell in a way that has him internally screeching, even as he reaches for the overhead lamp and switches it on.

And your lips purse as you blow on Riot's eye, watching the way his lashes flutter and his eyelid twitches before a teary droplet plops down his cheek.

And you wipe it away, feeling the distinct strand of cat fur against the pad of your thumb.

"We don't even own a cat." You mumble, before using your index knuckle to wipe the watery eye.

"All better?" You muse softly and Riot nods his head, before glancing at Dick with sleepy eyes, lashes fluttering even as he clambers across your lap, and into Dick's.

And his tiny arms wrap around as much of Dick's midsection as he can, his chubby and rosy cheek pressed against Dick's chest.

And the man's expression crumples.

Brows twitch and eyes begin to sting as one of his long fingered hands move to rest on Riot's back, feeling the soft fabric of his pajamas through the glove. And Riot lets out a content sigh.

"Deadbeat gypsy." The words are muffled, but they're audible enough for Dick's lips to part in shock, brows raising before letting out a bark of laughter.

Before he glances at you.

"He's just like you." Dick murmurs, before watching as Riot climbs from his lap, and heading back to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

There's a still silence in the air, only filled by the sound of Kim's voice and rain droplets crashing down outside before Dick clears his throat.

"My— uh...— my patrol ended early." He murmurs softly.

"Do you wanna watch a movie?"

The way you're slot under Dick's bicep, your head against his chest and your legs tossed across his lap makes him feel 4 seconds away from crashing out. Because God, you're so warm and so much softer.

Dick stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his side as you snuggle closer, before ultimately decided to pull the quilt over the both of you.

Your eyes remain glued to the TV, occasionally letting out snorts of laughter as you watch Grown Ups for what you could guess would be the 60th time on your lifetime.

But you can feel Dick's eyes.

Following the curve of your face, watching the way your lashes fan out and watching the way breaths leave your soft, glossy lips. And before Dick can even fathom it, his arm behind you is shifting, hand moving to wrap around your neck, long fingers stretching effortlessly and he brushes his thumb along your pulse, the action causing your head to tilt up and you meet his gaze.

And Dick's lips are pressed against yours, his fingers twitching against your neck before leaving the column of your throat, instead, shifting until you're resting back against the sofa.

You can't refuse. Well shit, you don't want to refuse.

Dick's kissing you like he's dying tomorrow. Lips pressed against yours, his hips nestled between your thighs and his arm moving to support his weight, elbow braced on the armrest above your head, and his other hand cradling your face.

His thumb strokes along the soft skin of your cheek, his hips pushed against yours and his tongue brushing along yours, but his movements stutter when your thighs wrap around his waist, arms around his neck and bringing him down to deepen the kiss.

Dick swears he sees heaven when your fingers card through his hair in that way.

Starting right at the nape of his neck, before dragging those manicured nails, up up up, before they disappear beneath silky raven strands and he sighs into the kiss, before pulling away.

Dilated pupils, and heavy breaths are exchanged between the two of you, and Dick swallows hard.

"Is he a heavy sleeper?" Dick whispers softly, gaze darting towards the bedroom he saw Riot disappear into and you nod your head.

"He is but you're pretty loud." You tease softly and Dick pushes his hips into yours, his bulge prominent beneath his suit and you can feel the way his tip brushes against your clit, even through the layers of fabric between you.

Dick always could find it in record time.

"Fair point." Dick whispers softly, a breathy laugh slipping past his lips, just a bit reddened from the intense kiss and he speaks again.

"But you never were loud."

Two digits bully their way into your cunt, your shorts and panties tugged to the side and Dick's lips are pressed against yours, muffling any sound you could even think of letting escape from your lips.

His tongue is buried in your mouth, thumb rubbing sloppy circles against your throbbing clit and your nails dig into Dick's biceps when he prods at a particularly sensitive spot. Your lashes flutter, and you take a shaky breath when Dick's fingers curl, his glove abandoned on the surface of the coffee table, and Dick pulls away from you, a thin, glossy string of saliva between the two of you before it ultimately breaks.

Landing across your chin and he giggles.

The man fucking giggles, as he uses his free hand to wipe away the mess, before ultimately moving your hair out of your face, staring down at you with pretty, big eyes that look at you so adoringly.

"You're so pretty." Dick murmurs softly, pressing a peck to your lips as he stares at you.

And fuck, you are.

Pretty eyes fanned by long lashes, perfect eyebrows and rosy cheeks, wet and parted lips (both pairs), and a few strands of hair clings to the thin sweat on your forehead and Dick sighs softly.

You're perfectly spread out too.

Hands gripping at him like you're scared he'll disappear, thighs spread messily and your panties and shorts tugged aside. Gummy walls thrum around his digits, pulsing at the intrusion and all he does is he continues to tease your clit, the rough pad of his thumb circling the sensitive and swollen nub as he continues to look at you with those heart eyes.

"Can I take you out tomorrow?" Dick's question is unexpected but he can't lie and say he hasn't been thinking about it since he saw you.

Plush, squishy, and so soft.

And he'd do anything to see you pregnant.

To watch you move around in oversized shirts, a belly swollen and heavy breasts that he could tease because they're just so sensitive and pretty.

And God, he can't even imagine the way your perfect, plump pussy would look, nestled between even rounder thighs, clit completely hidden until he uses his thumbs to spread the lips.

Dick swallows.

Hard.

And he doesn't even notice that his fingers begin to move, curling and prodding, nudging at that little fleshy spot that has your toes curling in your mismatched socks and your nails dig into his forearms.

And Dick remembers just what a sight you are when you come.

Brows pinching into the cutest little frown, lips forming a little 'o' and that gasp that leaves you has him leaking in his suit and he's so glad it's dark.

"That's it, princess, come on my fingers." Dick coos softly. "Use my fingers to make your pretty pussy feel good."

Your eyes roll back, you hide your face in your shoulder and your body freezes, the only movement being the rhythmic spasm of your cunt around his fingers.

His stupidly long, incessant fingers that keep dragging out your orgasm even as you nod your head, a silent answer to his prior question.

And Dick gleams, dimples in his cheeks and brilliant blue eyes lighting up in a way that can only be described as cosmic.

Blue eyes flecked with silvery stars and the gleam of the moon, dilated pupils and pretty lashes and Dick nods.

"Okay." He breathes out. "We're gonna go to the museum, okay? He's a little artist so I think he'd like looking at the paintings?"

You nod meekly, chest still heaving even when you watch as Dick licks his fingers, cleaning them up like he's just licking syrup from his fingers. His long tongue swivels around his digits before he carefully tugs up the fabric of your T-shirt, exposing your torso to the cold air.

Perfect tits, dotted with pebbled nipples and Dick swallows.

He never thought he'd be someone to have a kid out of wedlock but fuck, is he happy to be your baby daddy.

"Come on, princess." Dick hums sweetly. "Let me worship those pretty fucking tits before I leave."

Dick leans down, breath fanning across your chest before his tongue drags along one of your sensitive nipples, and he watches the way your face screws up, biting your bottom lip to stifle any sounds.

And you look at Dick from beneath your lashes, bleary eyes and rosy lips and he groans low.

A rumble in his chest that has your needy pussy pushing out a trickle of slick.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get you pregnant again." His lips latch onto the sensitive nub, his free hand moving to palm your other breast, thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Fuck that, I'll get you pregnant anyway."

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lokidjarin-7567 · 1 month ago

Text

I Hate It Here

Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Part 2 of this fic is now up! Thank you for all of the love so far and I will be writing more Squid Game fics about other characters too so keep an eye out ;) TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.

After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?

You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.

Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.

You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.

His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.

And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…

You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.

“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.

“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.

“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.

“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.

“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”

“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.

“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.

“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.

He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.

“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.

“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.

“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.

“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.

“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.

Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.

They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.

“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.

“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.

“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.

“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.” Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.

“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”

The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.

The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.

It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.

Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…

Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.

“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.

Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.

It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…

Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.

“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.

“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.

“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.

By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.

Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.

“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.

While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.

“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.

“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.

“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.

“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”

“You don’t name someone after their hair!”

“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.

"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."

“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”

“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.

“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.

“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.

“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”

“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.

“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.

“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.

“That would be perfect.”

It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.

“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”

Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.

It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.

“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.

“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.

"Goodnight, kind angel."

-> part 2

#squid game #squid game season 2 #player 388 #dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #dae ho #squid game s2 #kang dae ho x reader #player 388 x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #i hate it here

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kingkat12 · 6 months ago

Text

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink,"

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here.

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with.

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either.

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality.

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table.

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected.

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room.

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest.

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation.

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms.

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude.

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this. "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat.

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters.

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra.

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what.

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes.

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss.

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on.

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time,"

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

#the crow 2024 #eric draven x reader #the crow x reader #the crow fanfiction #eric draven fanfiction #the crow #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard #eric draven

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luveline · 9 months ago

Note

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve.

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you.

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple.

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.”

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling.

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you.

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?”

“No. They gave me tramadol.”

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper.

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why.

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day.

“You okay?”

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod.

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.”

“I’m your Unit Chief.”

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.”

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you.

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.”

“I wish I did something that sensible.”

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle.

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.”

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.”

“Not enough.”

“No, I guess not.”

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder.

“It wasn’t purposeful.”

“No? That’s good.”

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.”

“Morgan’s a big boy.”

“As opposed to me.”

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.”

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.”

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess.

“I don’t like him,” you say.

“As opposed to me.”

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek.

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say.

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.”

It’s an obvious lie.

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested.

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully.

“You can finally get some rest.”

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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captain-joongz · 7 months ago

Text

Deserve you

Pairing: brother-in-law!Seonghwa x f!reader

Genre: smut, darker themes, it's a little angsty

Summary: Marrying into the Park family was already a curse in on itself, but the cherry on top comes when on your wedding night the clock strucks midnight and there's the wrong brother knocking on your honeymoon suite door. But being a mindless pawn in his game of revenge might not be the worst when he buys it out with pleasure beyond your comprehension.

Word count: 18.5k words

Warnings: unhealthy family dynamics, arranged/forced marriage, infidelity, Hwa is mean and manipulative, themes of revenge and resentment, humiliation and praise, very rough handling and manhandling, spanking, rough sex, blink and you might miss it choking, oral (f. rec.), multiple orgasms, hair pulling, pussy drunk hwa, unprotected sex, doggy, creampie, some breeding kink (would it even be my fic if there wasn't lol), squirting, biting and marking (another one of my staples), a tiny bit of body worship

A/N: it's only going to be 13k i said *insert clown emoji here* enjoy cause good half of this is pure porn lol, i wrote the smut scenes at like 3 am while i was ovulating and therefore i legally cannot be held responsible for anything inside. please do enjoy!! if you wanna, leave comments and reblog, i always love to see what you guys have to say! i recommend listening to lurk by the neighbourhood, that's what i was listening to while writing this

Annoyed, I looked over the decorated hall to where my groom was amusing himself with a bunch of his goons. Their boorish laughs carried through the five-star hotel’s restaurant and could be heard over the hum of conversation from all four corners of the spacious room. I watched, completely unimpressed, as they took another shot together, every other one holding a half empty bottle of some kind of liquor in their hands. Rum, whiskey, vodka, all the colours of the rainbow.

My attention was pulled away by yet another very uncaring, but still unnecessarily cordial congratulatory small-talk from some relative who I’ve either never met before, or it has been so long their face blended into all the other hundreds of people who claimed blood-relation to our family.

While pretending to listen to their sugary fake speech and distractedly shaking their hands, my eyes flitted over to the close family table. I couldn’t help the trace of cold rage and hostility that crept into my gaze as it landed on my father, who leisurely sat at the table pushing around some greens on his plate while holding an amicable conversation with Mr. Park, my so very enchanting and charming father-in-law. My mother sat expressionlessly next to him, ever the picture of a perfect wife, here or there entertaining some pointless chit-chat from Mrs. Park.

With disgust I watched these four interact with each other, the realisation that this is where I was headed as well slowly sinking in and making me sick to my stomach. I excused myself from the circle of insincere inquisitors and went to sit down at the head table, pretending to eat to gather my strength.

When four months ago it was announced to me that I would be marrying into the Park family, a shocked disbelief quickly melted into an absolute rage. Even knowing that we were a very high-profile family, generations upon generations of wealth and a steady successful conglomerate of companies keeping us near the very top of the food chain of the upper class, it would have never crossed my mind my father would actually sell me off like a milk cow.

Yes, arranged marriage was still very much a thing between these families, profit and merging of riches far more important than such a silly little thing like love, but I always made it clear to my father I didn’t agree with such practice, and I would like to choose my husband myself. There was an unspoken agreement between us that he would leave me free reign and I would decide between the sons of the families that were on our level and suitable for marriage.

And Parks were nowhere near my radar. Although there were two sons in the family, only one was eligible for marriage and he would be the sole heir of most of their father’s empire. That made him a favourite in my father’s eyes, but all the women around these circles knew to give him a wide berth. Notoriously known for his unpleasant character, spoiled behaviour and stupidness, no self-respecting woman would ever touch him with a two-foot pole.

And now I was married to him.

Of course I opposed the marriage. I cried and begged and raged, I bargained and threatened, but nothing swayed my father. He had already made a good deal and now all he had to do was threaten me that if I didn’t listen, he’d make sure I was cut off not only from the family, the family wealth, but also every respectable company in the city. No matter how many times I told him ‘anyone but the Park’, he’d never listen. Papers were signed, deal was made. I was sold. All that was left was coming to terms with the situation.

The Parks, while they kept their respectable front, were a family that rose to the level of the likes of my father very rapidly and somewhat recently. It was an open secret that most of their business happened in the illegal little dark corners hidden behind a few presentable companies, but what mattered the most was their money and influence. Even though there were a few skeletons in their closet.

Like the one that suddenly made eye contact with me from the close relatives table while I was pretending to enjoy the worst day of my life.

The eldest son of the Park family, Park Seonghwa.

Mr. Park, much like his younger son Yujun, also known as my amazing husband, was known for his unlikable character and somewhat unscrupulous ways and manners. Or lack-there-of. Before even officially meeting him at some boring dinner, I had already heard the mountains upon mountains of rumours about his womanising and misogynistic ways.

Therefore it wasn’t a great surprise when just five years ago a boy showed up on his doorstep, determined to claim a corner of his ever so elusive father’s paradise. Seonghwa was older than Yujun, but due to him being a bastard of a poor maid that once upon time was harassed by the master of the house into giving into him, even though he managed to weasel his way into Mr. Park’s graces he still wasn’t considered a good face of the empire, and so Yujun remained the main heir, with his older half-brother as his glorified henchman.

Back then, even though I wasn’t 18 yet, I was also privy to all the drama that went down with Seonghwa’s sudden appearance. Perhaps eager to please his father and buy his approval, he managed to beg a broken-down old hotel out of him and set to his path of a lonely businessman always chasing some old man’s praise.

That hotel? The same one we were sitting in today. Seonghwa proved to be a formidable force in the business sphere and managed to bring this place from the bottom of the barrel and turn it into one of the best establishments in the whole country. He has since bought a several restaurants and another hotel, skyrocketing into those same circles that looked down upon him still. Including his family. Especially since everyone knew Yujun was a useless fool that would no doubt tank his father’s business the moment he got his hands on it, which made Parks the laughingstock of the rich and the bored.

During the four months I spent tagging along with our mothers and a wedding planner, trying to put together a last-minute grandiose event for half the city, I saw a lot of him. He always hung around the Park residence or the various lounges we chose to sit and chat in (which I later realised was because he owned them). When he graciously offered to host the banquet in his hotel, I was grateful to him but held no other regard to his actions.

But there seemed to be a strange connection between us. Maybe it was that I saw the same resentment reflected in his eyes when he looked at his own father, or maybe because he seemed to be the only other self-aware person here. We never spoke much, but sometimes we would catch each other’s eyes and see the same emotion in them.

In present time, I finally managed to tear my gaze away from his intense one, seemingly trying to burn through me with a single glance. In truth, I was a bit unsettled by him. Not matter how human he tried to appear, there seemed to be a dark aura around him and sometimes this strange feeling possessed me, as if I was on the cusp of getting devoured by a dangerous beast. His eyes, while part compassionate, also held this underlying viciousness, like they were trying to bait me into trusting them. And I didn’t. The more the wedding approached, the more I saw some kind of depraved excitement in them, only heightening this unsettlement that dwelled in my bones every time I came across him.

So thus I pissed away the evening. I tried to dodge as many guests as possible, keeping the conversation short and sweet, always finding an excuse why I had to move on, while giving a wide berth to the family table lest I get entangled in whatever was going on there and steadily growing more and more irritated by my new husband’s behaviour. He was nearing a dangerous level of intoxication and we still had at least two or three hours of entertaining everyone present in front of us. Well, at least I did. Yujun seemed to be quite happy wreaking havoc with his buddies and leaving me to do all the work. That is most definitely going to be a staple of our marriage.

I sighed and reached for a fresh flute of champagne. I didn’t even like champagne, but this day was driving me fucking insane.

“Darling,” my mother’s voice startled me enough to lightly choke on the drink and attempt to hide the flute like I was a naughty schoolkid sneaking snacks, “it is getting quite late. You might want to talk with your husband about retreating for your wedding night soon.” I looked at her, sizing up her perfectly schooled elegant face, her slender frame draped in expensive designer clothes and sighed again.

“It’s only half past eight,” I argued back petulantly, “we still have time till around eleven.” No matter what, I just wanted to avoid talking to Yujun, especially when he was this wasted and surrounded by similar idiots. My mother’s expression spoke of quiet reprimand. She only looked at me like that when she wanted to tell me I should know better.

“Most people are going to start leaving around ten, you know that,” she scolded me lightly and picked an invisible piece of dirt off of her sleeve, not even directing her full attention to me, “Stop stalling and go talk to your husband.” With that she was done, already turning and walking away before I could even open my mouth.

I pursed my mouth to keep the expletives from falling all out loud enough to embarrass her for 10 years in advance. Just aimlessly standing around, I threw back the rest of the champagne in the flute, chugging it in two big gulps, before slamming it down on the table perhaps a little too hard and startling a poor waiter just trying to clean up the buffet table. Steeling myself, I looked determined back into the direction of the rowdy table, but my feet stayed stubbornly glued to the ground.

“I can go talk to him, if you want,” the mellow voice came from my left and this time it startled me enough to jump. His big dark eyes crinkled in amusement, lips curling gently in a pleased smile. Park Seonghwa annoyingly looked absolutely stunning in his fitted three-piece suit and long dark hair carefully swept in curls out of his face, a tiny half bun sitting at the back of his head.

I regarded him coldly, trying to keep my distance from a man that felt too dangerous to be this close to. I didn’t even realise he had moved to the table, had no idea how long he has been standing there watching me. Even now, he patiently waited for my answer with his eyes eagerly taking me in, causing goosebumps to erupt on my naked arms.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you discussing my wedding night with your brother,” I fired back when my brain finally jumped back online, and I no longer just stared at the tall slim man and his deceptive gentleness.

He smiled lightly, really it was just a quirk of one corner of his mouth, and shifted a little closer.

“I’ll just tell him fun’s over in an hour and a half,” Seonghwa assured me in a manner that was maybe supposed to be calming, but only made the dark pools of his eyes even deeper. I didn’t step back, even when my body was begging me to put more distance between us, and stood my ground.

“I’m not sure the fun will be over for him no matter what you say,” I sighed and threw one more angry stare towards the drunkards, “He’s already too drunk to even get home and we still have more than an hour to go.” Seonghwa sidestepped and turned, and we stood there side by side, just watching the madness unfold.

“There’s a honeymoon suite prepared for you in the hotel,” the tall man supplied dryly, “all you have to do is get him into the elevator.” I hummed but couldn’t tear my eyes away from the embarrassing displays of drunkenness that were beginning to scare away nearby tables, the guests side-eyeing the young men and moving to leave while throwing disgusted glances around, more often than not sending them towards me as well. As if I wanted a husband like that, old lady.

Suddenly there was an arm gently coiled around my shoulders. Before I could react, Seonghwa squeezed gently twice and then moved towards them with a cheeky wink.

“I’ll tell him, don’t worry,” he told me while walking backwards away from where we stood, “and once you get him into the honeymoon suite, you can just dump him there and go sleep next door.”

I didn’t react in any way, only sending him an unimpressed look and then watched as he walked briskly the rest of the way and slowly inserted himself into the mayhem of the groomsmen. Immediately his face completely shut off, putting on a fake pleasant expression, but none of the men seemed to notice. I watched as Yujun got up and drunkenly stumbled until he was half hugging Seonghwa, hanging off of him and laughing loudly. From Seonghwa’s expression I could only guess whatever the joke was, he must have been the butt of it, but he took it well, years of practiced patience taking over his body. He said something to Yujun and I could see his eyes darting to me before his face was split by the grossest sleaziest grin known to man. I couldn’t stop the full body shudder that went through me, and honestly, I didn’t even try. The groomsmen all started whistling and shouting obscenities, pouring more shots and patting Yujun on his back while he cackled like a madman. Seonghwa then proceeded to say something more which elicited even more hollering and back pats, now even to him to his incredible discomfort.

He then withdrew from the situation just as slowly and quietly as he entered it, quickly walking back towards me. I hated the pity in his eyes, genuine or not, so instead I just grabbed another flute of champagne and grumbled into it while I sipped.

“Sorry you had to witness that,” he whispered and I avoided his gaze as hard as I could, instead staring off into the distance. “Whatever,” I grumbled back, trying to shake off the disgust that once again started to crawl back into my bones and stomach, making me sick with the thought of sharing a bed with that man.

Just then Seonghwa was called over by one of the servers gesturing wildly to the bar. He gave me one last apologetic glance and then ran off to deal with whatever mess that needed his immediate attention, leaving me to stand alone next to the champagne tower like the drinking wreck that I was quickly becoming. From the corner of my eye I saw my mother’s disapproving face, signalling me to step away from the alcohol and mingle more, smile more and look happy to have my life ruined by father’s business, but I ostentatiously ignored her until she alerted father of my unbecoming behaviour.

That quickly shook me into action, and with his stare burning into my back, I disposed of the empty glass and threw myself back into the madness.

The rest of the evening was a frenzy of overwhelming sensations and passed in a blur. I must have spoken to every guest that was invited, held so much small-talk I was beginning to lose my voice. I still avoided the two tables that held all of the people I didn’t want to interact with and rather I listened to some old aunt’s rants about how the modern generation of women just don’t want to be perfect housewives anymore and how they bring dishonour on their husbands.

Before I knew it, two hours have passed and I found myself stationed at the main entrance, shaking hands and exchanging goodbyes with everyone who was leaving, and waving at people that were staying in Seonghwa’s hotel.

The man himself was suspiciously scarce throughout the last hour of the party, his tall lean figure nowhere in sight, which made me surprisingly jumpy. There was a mounting feeling in me that something would happen, anxiety rising with every minute ticking by, but I thought it to be just a by-product of this whole clusterfuck of an evening and disregarded it.

My husband was also missing, probably still thrashing the bar in the lounge one room over, not even bothering to see his guests out.

Soullessly I watched everything happen, empty smile plastered on my face as I was pushed from side to side, listened to the same four meaningless sentences come out of the hundred mouths on faces that all blended together in my mind.

After they were ushered out, there was suddenly a flutter of action around me, people all speaking over one another, one telling me to go there and other telling me to stay here. I stayed silent and waited like a puppet for someone to move me where I was supposed to be. My emotions were shutting down one after another, too overloaded by everything and too scared to face head on what was about to take place.

Woodenly I let my mother drag me to the elevator, mumbling something about not worrying about my husband, father would get him, he would be here any minute, there was no reason to stress out, just relax and wait for him, it was as easy as that, after all we were a man and a woman, it was all perfectly natural. I nodded when there was a lull in her chatter to keep her none the wiser, agreed when I heard her intonation climb in a question.

Finally, the elevator climbed all the way up, reaching the quiet floor with a long hall that had only four doors on it, two of which were honeymoon suites. I felt more confused than ever, as if even my brain completely stopped working, but fortunately (or not) my mother seemed to know where to go.

The room was spacious inside, with a beautiful view of the night city, a whole comfortable lounge that already held a tray with more champagne and some appetizers. To one side I could see a sleek bathroom and to the other through an arch was visible a king-sized bed that dominated the space.

Mother sat me down on one of the sofas and I just distantly took notice of how soft and comfortable it was before she again launched into some sort of a monologue I wasn’t interested in. I amused myself by looking out the window, already nursing another flute of champagne, which was promptly yanked out of my hands.

“Are you trying to catch up with your husband?” my mother’s angry voice cut through the fog in my mind, but I was beyond caring what she had to say.

“I certainly cannot go through it completely sober,” I noted dryly with a sarcastic flare, snatching the flute back. That earned me a glare that could split a mountain in half, but I stubbornly, and somewhat childishly, refused to look at her.

“You’ve done it before and you’ll do it again after,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if she didn’t understand where the problem was, “it’s just sex.” A wave of rage and hatred raised in me so strongly that I had to hold myself back from either screaming or bursting into tears.

“Just leave already,” I said coldly instead, still not looking at her, but watching her figure in the reflection of the window. She froze, her arms stuttering a little in the middle of a movement, and I could clearly feel the disappointment in my behaviour radiating off of her. Then she straightened out and without a word walked towards the door.

“Your husband will get here shortly; I advise you to prepare yourself and meet him not completely hammered.” Her cold words rang through the silent room and then she was gone.

I simmered in that silence for a long few minutes, working to get my emotions back in check. In the end I just gave up on resisting this. There was no way out of this anyway. With a bit of luck Yujun was already so drunk he’d just take his clothes off and pass out and then I can tell him the next day how he was just a wonderful lover, how I enjoyed our time together so much.

So, I had one last glass and then started preparing myself mentally, steeling myself and pacing nervously around the room waiting for my husband to burst drunkenly through the door any minute now. I flinched with every sound, strained my ears to hear anything moving outside those doors.

Only… it never came. After 40 minutes of waiting, Yujun was still nowhere to be seen.

I was beyond irritated, checking the time every two minutes and still expecting the shoe to drop. The longer he took to get here, the drunker he’d be and the drunker he was, the more volatile and unpredictable he’d get. The irritation quickly rose to anger, my mood fluctuating between rage and fear and panic.

Once it was longer than an hour, I was just tired. The clock struck 23:45 and I sighed, completely drained and resigned. It became clear that he wouldn’t get here. At least not now.

Sitting down on the sofa, I felt all the stress trickle out of me as I completely decompressed. There was a sudden numb calm washing over me and I just wanted to be done with it, so drained I became completely detached from the world. I rose to finally fucking change out of the gown and promptly found out that now I faced a different kind of problem.

My dress had a lacing I couldn’t reach on my own. I needed help to get out of my dress. There was no one else on this floor and my parents were long gone, choosing to return to our home instead of sleeping in a hotel. My husband was god knows where and most probably in a state where he wouldn’t be able to take off his own pants.

I crumpled into the sofa, half groaning half screaming into my hands, the frustration of the whole situation, the whole day, the whole four fucking months weighing down on me enough to force a sob out of me. And then another, and then another, until I was bawling my eyes out in an empty honeymoon suite. For long moments I laid half draped over the settee crying, just getting all of my jumbled emotions out in the only outlet I had. Why did everything just have to go absolutely wrong?

It felt like whole centuries had passed when I seemed to run out of tears and finally managed to calm down again; and I looked around the room, playing with the thought of just cutting myself out of the dress with a knife or scissors, but quickly giving up on the idea with a despaired laugh falling out of me.

Everything hurt and I was exhausted, and I wanted to go to sleep, alone preferably, so instead I went into the bathroom and tried to salvage my makeup as much as possible. Thankfully bridal makeup seemed to be invincible, and I just had to tap at some smudged corners to get them dry again.

With that I set out of the room, determined to find anyone that could help me out of the dress, even if it was just some poor busboy trying to make it through nightshift. But I didn’t make it far.

I had just made two steps into the hall when the elevator suddenly dinged, and the door opened. For ten absolutely terrifying seconds I expected my husband to be the one stepping off of it, but instead a tall slender figure elegantly made its way towards me, hair still effortlessly falling around his face as if it was paid to do it.

“What the hell are you doing here?” flew out of my mouth before any reason kicked in, my brain too fried to concern itself with proper manners. Seonghwa only blinked at me in amusement, lips quirking up. Something was different about him and my alarms started going off, but I’d already gone through so much that day I barely even realised.

“Is there a reason why you’re roaming the halls like the ghost of Christmas past?” he shot back, coming close enough to lean and tower over me. His eyes peered down on me over the bridge of his nose, suddenly looking a lot less amused and a lot colder and domineering. I stuttered over my words, clocking in the change in his demeanour once I noticed the darkness swimming in those usually expressionless orbs.

“I- I need help getting out of my dress,” I whispered, too shocked to comprehend what was happening, the truth suddenly slipping out unwittingly, “I was looking for someone… Yujun hasn’t-“

Seonghwa’s dark chuckle interrupted me, it rumbled through his chest close enough I could almost feel it. I looked up at him questioningly. His grin was suddenly mocking and it threw me for a loop. All my instincts screamed at me to back away from such clear savagery shining through in his expression, but I felt completely frozen, half mesmerised half terrified.

“Yujun wouldn’t be able to untie his own shoes right now,” he said meanly, the resentment towards his family he so often hid away now out in the open, raw in his voice like a bleeding wound.

“Do you know where he is?” I decided to ignore his heated stare that seemed to be penetrating deep into my being and instead focused on my goal – locating my husband so I could kick his ass and then avoid him for the rest of the honeymoon.

But Seonghwa only smirked and curled an arm around my shoulders, pulling us towards the suite doors, clearly steering me to follow him inside.

“First, let’s help you with that dress, sweetheart,” his deepened voice almost purred somewhere close to my ear and it sent shivers through me, some kind of dark anticipation setting into the pit of my stomach.

Alarm bells were blaring loudly through my mind, but I just stared him completely stunned and let him drag me. Man, maybe I did overdo it with the champagne.

I looked at his face and fully took in just how ethereally beautiful he really was, the big dark eyes and full sensual lips on a slender face framed by glossy dark hair, he was a vision that an artist would die for just to catch a glimpse of. A face that could unleash wars and bring down empires, break the honour of gods, taint them and seduce them into immorality. Such a man he was. And I saw in his eyes that he would.

Before I could stutter out some sort of answer, he was already pulling us inside the door and shutting it behind us, the lock clicking with a startling finality. Suddenly I found myself standing panicked in the middle of the lounge with Seonghwa circling me like a shark, watching my form and the dreadful dress with dark hungry eyes. Even though my mouth hung slightly open as I still processed the current situation, nothing could come out of it, as if he took my voice with just a single touch.

“How terrible, chaining you poor thing into such a dress,” he whispered sensually, his voice caressing my skin like raven black feathers, “it must have been tiring, having it on the whole day…” He trailed off, a second of silence stretching between us and putting me on edge. Then, I could feel his fingers lightly dancing down the exposed back of my neck, until they hit the edge of the lacing. My breath hitched, getting caught deep in my throat at the sudden contact, and I shivered, eyes fighting the urge to roll back into my skull.

I blushed at my body’s visceral reaction. Either I had to be even more drunk than I initially thought, or the desperation clouded my judgement enough to actually allow my brother-in-law’s advances. Both options were terrible and unacceptable. Still, I felt rooted to the spot, unable to even lift and arm to swat his hands away, not even to turn and scold him with a glare, nothing. It was as if I was deep under a spell, his aura pressing me into inaction and sluggishness, my brain muddled and confused but vaguely excited.

Just as I took in a deep breath to break the fog away and started gathering a sufficient effort to move from him, he abruptly stepped closer, pressing his front against my back with his arm coiling around my waist like a strangler snake. Now all he had to do was squeeze the life out of me. His lips touched lightly on my exposed shoulder, and I could feel his breaths hitting the crook of my neck, a wave of goosebumps breaking in its wake.

“You shouldn’t act like this towards your brother’s wife,” I managed to get out of my dry throat, the words no more than a breathless whisper. There was a mocking scoff next to my ear and his arms coiled even tighter before releasing me all at once. I heaved a sigh of relief, not realising yet this was only the beginning of his game. Oh, he wasn’t anywhere near done.

I was spun quickly, two dexterous hands moulding me to his liking until I was facing him again. There was a terrible grin on his face and an absolute terror set into the pit of my stomach.

“I’m just trying to help you out of an uncomfortable situation,” Seonghwa lied smoothly, the words slipping out of his lips easily with faux concern. We both knew it was utter bullshit, but I still floundered in his arms, not knowing what to say or do, how to combat his searing mocking gaze.

His hands started moving again slowly, sliding tenderly down my arms and back up and then making their way to my back. Seonghwa pressed himself closer again, now front to front with my face awkwardly angled around his shoulder. Before I knew it, his arms looped around me and started tugging at the ribbon tying the corset part together while his face slowly lowered until he was gently mouthing at my shoulder.

I gasped, hands on instinct shooting up to grab something to stabilise myself. It ended up being the lapels of his suit jacket that hung between us. The tall man chuckled darkly, and I was caught in the strange in-between of his gentle touch and mean demeanour.

I felt my knees shaking, the tension rising to a point that my body could barely handle it. A whole-body shiver wrecked through me, the path his mouth made on my skin burning and sending shocks of pleasure through my nervous system that had dangerous heat starting to rear its head in my tummy.

Slowly, leisurely, his hands worked on the ribbon until it was flowing freely from the top and the first few knots were loosened. My heart was beating inside my ribcage so hard it felt as if it was hitting against the bones, and my chest tightened enough to make breathing hard for me. The silence suddenly stretched between us tensely and I wondered if the man could hear the wild beating in my chest, if to him it maybe felt like a scared bird fluttering in the palms of his hands.

Seonghwa lifted his head enough to turn me again, enough to let me see the self-satisfied smirk, and I went easily wherever he wanted me to go. My brain was screaming at me to do something, say something, but I could barely think over the dull buzz of nerves and dark thrumming of my boiling blood. My body yearned and I lost all control over it, turning into a pliant little doll in the hands of a terrible master. The temptation was just too strong, what he offered too sweet.

Words were bubbling in my throat, catching on the swallowed sighs and getting stuck in the constricted little space as I fought for every breath, but I knew they needed to spill over. I couldn’t go down without at least a little fight.

“Where…,” I started but it came out all scratchy and barely audible, “Where is my husband?” Seonghwa’s hands froze where they were unhurriedly playing with the ribbons and loosening them a millimetre after a millimetre to turn this into a torturous progress, to show me that I would let him play me like this for hours if he so pleased. Then he snickered.

“You’re still looking for him?” he asked with his lips pressed into the skin beneath my ear, “Aren’t I enough for you?” It was said as a tease, but I felt the sharp daggers of bitterness in his voice, like he was daring me to insinuate he was beneath his brother. “Aren’t I the better choice?” came out with a chuckle a moment later. Now, that was a taunt.

“Any moment he can get here and then I’ll get fucking murdered for your misdeeds,” I hissed back venomously even though I still haven’t made a single move to get some space between us. Seonghwa laughed condescendingly at me, and I didn’t even have to see his face to know he was sneering madly at my insistence to discuss the other man with him.

“He won’t be coming anytime soon, don’t you worry your pretty head darling,” he bit out with a mean laugh, “I know my brother and he can’t resist an open bar. It was only a matter of waiting until he drank himself into a coma. He won’t disturb us until the morning, and even if he wakes up during the night he won’t know up from down.” This time it was me who froze completely while Seonghwa’s fingers resumed their journey. Some terrible realisation dawned upon me, and I felt as if the rug was swept right from underneath my feet and I was freefalling, straight into these dangerous outstretched arms.

“You were planning this the whole time,” I whispered shakily, trembling in the man’s hands but ultimately, I was helpless to his games. I already knew I was fighting a losing bet, and in the end I would surrender to him.

This time Seonghwa outright laughed at me, making embarrassment sink into my gut and I shrunk into myself. I felt his fingers dig into the fabric of the white wedding dress. In the reflection of the window I saw him, shoulders shaking and mouth open with the laugh, eyes crinkled in a depraved kind of amusement. The sound cut through the empty silent room, strangely as melodic as much as it was savage. I watched him equal part with both horror and reverence, the dark atmosphere finally sinking through my skin and penetrating deep into my soul. In that moment I realised I had just walked into the tiger’s den and there was no way out.

Seonghwa finally calmed down and his eyes found mine in the reflection of the window almost instantly; they were full of contempt and I shuddered under his gaze, humiliation spreading through me at his sneering lips.

“Finally you’re catching up, darling,” he spit that word out like it was poison, and even though it was meant to caress it felt more like a slap, making me sharply inhale, “how could I let my spoiled little brother just walk into this without a little price.”

Suddenly his hands roughly grabbed at the ribbons and pulled hard, almost tearing the corset apart in his haste to finally rid me of it. I stumbled under the force and almost wished there was a wall or a window in front of me, so I could lean on it. My own hands were shaking, as were my pupils while I tried desperately to catch up with the situation. His beautiful face looked almost ethereal with this much wrath and hatred pulling it into a savage grimace, all burning eyes and bared teeth. In this light they almost looked sharp enough to tear flesh apart with a single bite.

“There’s a little compensation to be had, don’t you think darling?” he sneered some more, hands feverishly working to rid me of the oppressive clothing.

Then he used the ribbons tightly clutched in his hands to pull me closer again and our bodies collided harshly. This time I did gasp out loudly but before I could comprehend or react, his face was pressed to mine, our cheeks smushing together lightly while our eyes met again in the window. Pure deranged madness was swimming around his blown-out pupils and he flashed me a beastly savage grin.

“How do you think our little prince would like that I defiled his lovely wife before he even had the chance to get his hands on her?”

There was a sound of tearing fabric ringing through the room and I felt the dress give way, sliding down my arms and torso. In panic I quickly caught it to stop it from pooling around my ankles. But I might have as well let it be, because shortly Seonghwa’s arms circled around my waist and trapped both my hands and the dress under his grip.

Without wasting a single second, he pushed us together as close as we could go, moulding around my back and feverishly attacking my exposed neck and shoulders. Quick scolding hot wet kisses were laid one after another and I felt his hands squeeze at my waist as he licked and bit into my skin, rapidly moving up my neck to the edge of my jawline.

My mouth hung open a little wider with every swipe of his tongue, little breathy sighs and half moans flowing out freely. I was helpless coming face to face with such devastating passion and desperation, how could I protest anything when I heard Seonghwa’s satisfied groans muffled by my skin, when I felt his hands tearing at the dress and never letting me part even a single millimetre from him.

Desire and duty warred through my body, leaving me desperate and frustrated and unable to make a single move in whichever direction. I never wanted this marriage and I already despised Yujun. If I could, I would have since long walked away from this, from my father and his stern unloving face, from my mother and her constant reprimand and propriety, and most of all from my awful disgusting husband. Seonghwa was offering me the same thing he himself sought with this. Revenge. But I respected the vows and despised cheating, and my moral side was begging me to end this at once and remain faithful to a man I barely knew, barely even liked. The result of this was my torn silence and inaction, never taking part but never stopping it.

It was so wrong, but it felt so good I couldn’t do anything except for stand there and take it from the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

The confusing mix of emotions tore through me and left me all bloody and aching like an exposed nerve. My hands clenched and unclenched, eyes flitted around the room in panic, mouth opened and squeezed shut, the words always just at the tip of my tongue but never quite making it out while my brain quickly sunk deeper and deeper into lust.

Seonghwa’s eyes found mine in the reflection once again and slowly bled into a condescending pity. He licked a long stripe along my neck, tasting the salty sweat and purring in content, eyes just slightly rolling back. The sight made me weak, made my body thrum with feelings I haven’t felt in a long time, the excited tension manifesting in the dull throbbing in my lower tummy and the tingles running through me whole. I felt myself clenching at the display, and quickly pushed my thighs together to chase after the pleasure.

“You’re all up in your head, darling,” Seonghwa whispered, spinning sweet webs to catch me in, “Stop thinking, pretty. Just turn off your brain and let the sensations wash over you. Just go with the flow.” His dark eyes flew over my figure for one last time and then he was gripping my jaw roughly and jerking my head to the side to finally feast upon me like he wished.

He kissed like he was laying a claim on me, hard and heavy, tongue prying my mouth open immediately and swallowing the aborted little sounds I couldn’t stop from slipping out. It was filthy and wet and I felt as if he tried to devour me whole. I couldn’t even reciprocate fully, only stand there and take it, weakly moving my own tongue against his but I was quickly overpowered by him in every sense. Then it stopped just as quickly as it started.

I opened my eyes, blearily blinking and trying to get my unfocused gaze back into working order. I felt like I was underwater, like thick molasses was pulling me deeper into the sweetness. Meanwhile Seonghwa looked beyond delighted, lips permanently quirked up and showcasing his sharp canines.

Quick hands spun me around again, one arm immediately securing me against him while the other went to my face, caressing it with deceptive gentleness. Slowly he ducked his head down and kissed up and down the side of my neck and my shoulder, and this time around his lips were tender and reverent, like he didn’t turn into a beast just a few moments ago. My head was spinning from his constant flip-flopping between kind and cruel, but I submitted to him every time anyway.

“He doesn’t even deserve you, darling,” his sugary whispered words carried a little sting to them, but he still trickled them like honey straight to my awaiting throat and I happily drank it all, “He can’t value you as he should… He can’t fuck you like he should.” He growled the word into my throat, hands migrating to grab at my ass and press me up against his crotch, letting me feel the hardness of his arousal.

I gasped and grabbed onto his shoulders, not even knowing whether I’m pushing him away or pulling him closer, but the result was the same. He kissed the same the second time around, plunging his tongue into my mouth and dominating it completely, not giving me a chance to do much else than sigh and moan filthily as he pried me open in every way.

The dress was slowly pulled down and I suddenly found myself exposed to his eyes, the white lacy wedding lingerie a contrast to my heated flushed skin. My first instinct was to hide myself away from him, shyness fighting to take control over me, but I stood still. Somehow to me it would have been more embarrassing if I cowered before him, so I faced his lust head on.

Seonghwa’s eyes hungrily took in every detail, every new inch of skin revealed, from the lacy top and the frilly ribbons in the middle, to the panties that barely hid anything and the wedding garter still firmly sitting on my thigh.

“God, look at you,” the man darkly groaned, eyes glued to my crotch, “You’d be wasted on such an idiot. You deserve so much more, darling, so much more.” On a whim I decided to gather some wit and push back a little, even though it might not be a great idea to provoke him right now.

I threaded my hand through his long locks and tugged hard, making him hiss loudly while his head jerked back. There way annoyance in his eyes, but even that couldn’t mask the sheer amount of arousal and lust reflected in them.

“And you think that you’re what I deserve?” I attempted to say coldly, but I couldn’t tell how successful I was at my delivery with my whole body shivering and succumbing to his touch already. His eyes narrowed and his face turned to stone, and I immediately wanted to take my taunt back. I did not feel anywhere near ready to have that kind of confrontation with him. I felt the fight drain out of me at the dangerous glint is his eyes, head instinctively ducking in shyness and submission.

Seonghwa must have sensed my surrender too, because his lips quickly turned into a cruel smirk and he laughed at me, hand going to lightly grab my throat. I waited with bated breaths, fear and anticipation bleeding together into an ugly kind of arousal, but I didn’t have it in me to feel much shame anymore.

The world suddenly spun around me and then I was crashing into the settee behind me with enough force to knock the breath out of me. I barely just gathered my wits back and Seonghwa was already kneeling in front of the sofa spreading my legs. His hands grabbed my hips and roughly manhandled me into the position he wanted, and once my legs were thrown over his shoulders, he wasted no time descending onto me.

He bit and kissed and licked his way down my inner thighs, the sensitive skin hurting and pinching with every nip, making me jerk and gasp in his hold to which he only chuckled coldly.

“Hold steady now, doll,” he said evenly, “I’m gonna eat your pussy until you’re cumming all over my face.” With that he smirked and dove in. His warning did nothing to stop my body jerking wildly the moment he licked a long bold stripe over the seat of the panties.

Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up full of dark reprimand, sending a wave of goosebumps over me. I saw his arm rise and descend quickly, just barely managing to hold my breath as it harshly collided with the skin where my thigh met my ass. The smack carried through the room, as well as my loud whimper. Embarrassingly I felt a gush of slick hit my panties at the action, but I had no time to dwell on it when Seonghwa bit mercilessly into the inner part of my thigh before sliding back to my centre.

For a few long moments he amused himself by skirting around where I truly needed him to touch and instead paid attention to the edges of the panties or lightly licked and sucked through the drenched lacy fabric. My whole body thrummed with excitement, begging to be finally touched where it needed it the most, but I was too afraid to writhe around or push him, so I just lied there and whined loudly, not even caring anymore. There wasn’t even anyone else on this floor anyway.

I was so wet and aroused, my cunt pulsing knowing he was so close to touching where I needed him, my brain completely melted and unable to comprehend anything beyond the burning consuming need as I trembled under his teasing touches and licks.

Seonghwa’s eyes bore into me, just endless swirling pools of arousal and arrogance, watching me battle my body to listen to his instructions and slowly falling apart before he even did anything. Once he had enough of the pathetic little show I put on for him, I more felt than heard his chuckle before he suddenly dove in.

The moment I felt his lips curl around my clit through the panties and suck, it felt like I could cum just from that as the relief and pleasure rushed through my veins and my hips kicked up a little. A long moan left my lips almost unwittingly and I threw my head back into the cushions hard enough to hurt even through the softness. My hands flew to his hair practically immediately and pulled hard, trying to keep him buried between my folds until the end of time.

Seonghwa didn’t seem to mind I disregarded his rule not to move, instead moaning loudly into my cunt in response and desperately mouthing and sucking at the little nub over the fabric. I felt my thighs tense with every move and Seonghwa’s hands gripped them harder to keep them still, his fingers sinking deep into the flesh until it was borderline painful, but the sensation only fuelled the madness of ecstasy that was warring through me and made everything just a tad bit sharper.

The man could only bear it for few more moments, before a frustrated noise sounded from between my legs and he was suddenly flying off of me. I instinctively pulled his hair to keep him where I wanted him and was greeted with the sight of his eyes rolling back into his skull and mouth opening on a silent moan. The display was enough to make me forget about the annoying lack of stimulation for just a few seconds, and I whined, high and long, as if trying to lure him closer.

Finally he looked at me, debauched pleasure written all over his face as his red swollen lips curled into a sensual grin, and then he quickly ripped my panties off and flung them somewhere across the room, only giving me the warning of hearing the fabric tear before the tatters curved through the air. I had barely two seconds to react and gasp before he was diving back straight for my pussy, his mouth and tongue finding my entrance almost immediately and licking and sucking all around it, spreading my wetness all over the lower part of his face.

An electric current went through me, my back arching on its own as I tensed and moaned at the sudden contact. And this time Seonghwa delivered, with all his might.

Only loud slurping sounds could be heard throughout the room as he wildly swirled his tongue around my folds, quickly gulping down everything he could gather and sucking intensely at my clit, making me jolt in his arms every time. Every once in a while he would move down for a moment, immediately sticking his tongue as deep into me as he could and fucking me with it with harsh fluid movements while his nose bumped against my most sensitive part and the loud chuffs of air, pants and moans vibrated through me and sent me higher; and then he’d rise back up only to abuse the swollen nub with rough flicks and well timed hard sucks.

I was falling apart under his ministrations quickly, almost embarrassingly so, my whole body jerking and quivering as my back curved up under the powerful euphoric bursts ravaging me inside out and the feeling of his warmth enveloping my folds made me almost crazy. The feeling only intensified when I looked down breathlessly and saw Seonghwa’s eyes, completely gone and glazed over, making him look like a helpless slave to the pleasure. I would have even felt some sense of power from it if he didn’t completely overwhelm me with the sensations, dutifully stimulating me in every way his clever mouth could think of.

He ate pussy wildly and messily, spreading my juices everywhere and nigh drowning in them, leaving me slack jawed under the onslaught of his tongue until I couldn’t even moan anymore, only tremble and gush even more right into his welcoming lips.

I felt myself clenching on him, the powerful feeling growing in intensity, building up from deep inside my core and my thighs shook over his shoulders. I knew I was a goner; I knew I was going to cum soon, and there was nothing I could do to fight it. So, I let go.

Seonghwa kept working my cunt tirelessly, swirling his tongue around my clit, licking through my folds, thrusting his tongue inside of me in slow and rough motions. And as he felt me getting closer, his own moans rose in pitch as if he was the one about to cum, mouth latched onto my entrance hungrily awaiting my release.

It only took a few more pumps and his nose pressing down hard on my clit, and the tension was snapping and suddenly I found myself cumming loudly, moan ripping out of my throat in shock at the strength of the orgasm, my whole body spasmed attempting to curl and arch with the euphoria, hands tightening impossibly in Seonghwa’s hair.

I blanked, everything turning to white and I could swear I could almost see stars as my ears rang. The whole feeling kept intensifying with Seonghwa still going, groaning into my pussy like it was the most delicious food he’s ever had.

When the high started coming off, I whined in overstimulation at his lazy strokes, for the first time trying to push him away instead of pull him closer, until he finally stopped and rested his head on one of my thighs. We both were breathing heavily and my whole body thrummed with the sweet release, while I could already see the darkness swirling back into his black irises. He smirked at me, half of his face completely smeared in my slick and glistening under the golden light of the room.

“See, wasn’t that refreshing?” he asked suddenly with voice raw and hoarse, a lot more joy seeping into it as he took in my boneless form and my unfocused eyes. I blinked through the tears and through the haze, rendered useless by the force of pleasure and yet still strangely unsatisfied. There were already swirls of new lust building up in my belly at his calculating hungry stare, and I was completely ready to give myself over to him in any way he requested, if only just to have him rain euphoria on me.

As if hearing my thoughts, the man rose suddenly, towering over me and once again looking down on me condescendingly over the top of his nose, but this time around I was considerably more distracted by the enormous tent attempting to push through his pants. He scoffed at me, watching me lust over his cock like I was nothing more but a bitch in heat, and then two of his fingers curled in a beckoning motion, luring me to him with a single gesture. And we both knew I would go.

I eagerly forced myself to sit up, taking a few seconds to try out my limbs again and see if I could even hold my weight now, but after some uncoordinated slips and bumbling around like a newborn fawn, I was able to push myself into a kneeling position on the sofa, my face exactly at the height of his crotch.

I looked up at him expectantly, already licking my lips at imagining having his length stuffed all the way down my throat. I knew he would do it to me, I knew he would push his way in harshly and fuck my throat until it was unusable, until I was crying and struggling to breathe. He would hold my head and force himself as deep as possible, disregarding me completely. It had me slicking up again, breathing quickening, the arousal building up steadily and quickly, the idea of it making my cunt clench in a silent plea to be filled up and absolutely ravaged. And by the look in Seonghwa’s eyes, I could tell that wish would soon become reality.

There was so much mockery and condescension etched into his features I would absolutely feel shame at myself the moment this ended, but while kneeling there I barely minded him clearly looking down on me, both literally and metaphorically. And he played with me a little, hand tangling itself into my hair and messing up the bun I had done for the wedding even more, pushing my head against his bulge, but not letting me mouth over it or touch it, always pulling away as soon as I moved closer. His cruel smirk reflected clearly how much fun teasing me he had, knowing he had me in this state after one orgasm without even fucking me. How truly pathetic I was.

His hard cock pushed at my cheek, and he pressed himself closer and firmer against me, slowly rocking his hips until he was dry humping my face, peering down at me filthily. I stayed docile in his hold, letting him rub himself over me, eyes trained on the way pleasure slowly broke through his mask, colouring his eyes with different kind of darkness. But he soon grew bored of this and pushed me away.

I held in the embarrassing whine at that, biting my tongue to keep myself together while he gazed at me looking like he was trying to figure how to destroy me. Which, to be honest, he absolutely was.

His thumb swiped over my lower lip quickly and then his hand migrated to my neck again, this time manhandling me a lot gentler as he pushed me around to turn and bend over to all fours, still perched on top of that sofa.

The furnishing moved and dented behind me, throwing me off balance a little, but then there was a body pressing into me, hips firmly digging into mine and a hot hard cock pushing against my weeping red cunt.

I gasped lightly and moved backwards, grinding onto the man to feel him sliding through my folds even with his pants still on, but he stopped me with a hiss, one hand going to push at my lower back and the other grabbing onto my hip.

“Stop being so impatient, doll,” Seonghwa taunted darkly, voice heavy and low with the accumulated lust, “You’ll take what I give you or I’ll have you watch as I cum all on my own.” Though even this threat sounded a little tempting, I immediately froze, only feeling my walls clenching in anticipation. I dug my fingers into the furnishing, almost even holding my breath to settle the wild desire running through me and begging me to just spear myself on his cock rules or no rules. But I held steadfast and was rewarded with his amused chuckle.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you doll?” he whispered, hands grabbing onto the meat of my hips and pulling me back against him while at the same time thrusting forward. I was so wet I slid along his pants seamlessly, leaving behind a trail of my arousal, and he parked himself home perfectly, cock pressing into my folds just flawless enough to make my brain absolutely melt.

I could feel the trembling in my hips start up again and fought against the urge to cant my hips in an attempt to finally have him fuck me. I didn’t feel strong enough to hold myself up on my arms anymore, so I slowly lowered myself until I was lying on and grabbing onto the arm of the sofa, looking straight into my own eyes in the reflection in the windows.

Seonghwa behind me was fascinatedly watching where we were pressed together while his hips resumed the gentle rocking against mine, just enough to make me feel him but not enough to give me any relief. I couldn’t hold back the whine and his eyes snapped to mine in the window, face instantly crumpling into a mean smirk.

“Such a good girl,” he repeated more teasingly this time, “only want someone to push you around a little and stuff you full, huh? Need someone to throw you down and show you your place, don’t you darling? No thoughts, just a cock drilling into you and filling you with cum, that’s what you need, huh?”

His words triggered a visceral reaction out of me; shuddering I whined loudly and finally pushed my hips against his, working them in little circles right on his erection, hoping to entice him into doing something. But I clearly underestimated just how much of a menace he could be when he wanted to.

Upon his entertained laugh I searched the window for his form again, finding him amusedly watching me pitifully attempting to get myself off on his pants, and frustration rushed through me. A growl ripped itself out of my throat and before I knew it, my mouth was running off.

“God, Seonghwa, just shut the fuck up and fuck me finally.”

Suddenly we were plunged into silence as I saw his eyes narrow at me, boring right into my soul even through the medium of the window. One of his hands pushed at the small of my back forcefully, steadying my hips and pinning them away from his, while his other finally moved to his belt and zipper. But there was a dark expression on his face, all amusement draining out of him in a second, instead now giving him a colder and domineering aura again.

“Guess I spoke too soon, huh?” he said with faux anger, hand aggressively tearing his belt off of his pants, “Did you already forget what I said about taking what I give you? Well… don’t tell me I didn’t warn you…” The last sentence had me breaking into cold sweat, both a warning and a promise sounding through his voice, throwing me into panic while my cunt slicked up even more in anticipation.

Seonghwa tore his pants open, pushing them around just enough to pull his cock out and without even giving me a chance to look, he shoved himself balls-deep inside of me knocking the wind out of me. I gasped out loudly, whole body jerking forward, and my hands grabbed onto the sofa as hard as I could to battle with the dual sensation of pleasure and fulfilment with burning pain. Tears sprung into my eyes, one sliding down my cheek and falling right into my mouth open wide on silent moan, making me taste salt.

Turns out, the dark-haired man wasn’t willing to wait on that either, as he immediately started pumping his hips into me full force, using his cock to mould my walls to fit him without giving me time to adjust. But it’s not like I complained about anything, when ecstasy I haven’t known before wracked through me and I moaned out desperately with every rough thrust, quickly feeling the pain melt into mind-numbing pleasure that had fire spreading through my every nerve.

I could already feel my body responding and we were barely a couple of thrusts in, but if the rapid throbbing of my walls and my shaking trembling hips were anything to go by, I was ready to cum within few moments. And Seonghwa felt it.

His hands readjusted their grip on my body and then he upped the pace, snapping his hips into me wildly and forcefully, almost knocking to wind out of me on every uptake and sending me crashing into the armrest. He slid in so deep and so perfectly, pressing up against my sweet spot with every move and sending me into overdrive. Every few thrusts I felt like I blacked out for a few seconds as my mind and body started shutting down to only receive the pleasure and nothing more. My face was wet, and I wasn’t sure if it was from sweat, drool or tears, but still I felt like I was sitting on the edge of some terrible breathtaking revelation, like a messiah witnessing a godly act for the first time in their miserable life.

I was literally gasping for breath and on the cusp of cumming again after barely two minutes of his rough pace, cunt so wet I made a mess everywhere and every time he pulled out my juices splattered on our bodies. I was hungrily sucking him in, clenching around the intrusion in hopes of keeping him lodged so deep inside of me it scratched something wild and primal in my brain.

There was babbling and nonsense spilling out of my lips, begging the man to never stop and whining out how good he felt stretching me out like that; cock hammering into my walls with brutish force and I knew I’d never forget the feeling of getting fucked by him, of his thickness spearing me open and the spongy tip overstimulating me from the inside.

The man behind me snickered and I peeked through my half-lidden eyes to the reflection, seeing the vision of Seonghwa ravaging me with all of his clothes still on and perfectly intact, only his pants pushed slightly down, sweat running down his forehead and his cheeks, eyes crazed and trained on the way my whole body bounced with his thrusts. His eyes screamed absolute power and rendered me defenceless against him.

He kept steadily upping the tempo until he was jackhammering into me so quickly my body was crashing down under the tidal wave of pleasure, my g-spot so fucking battered I was crying and drooling into the pillows. I was so sensitive and high-strung, experiencing a wave after a wave of nearly there orgasms, always strong enough to have me breathless but never enough to quite push me over the edge.

I wanted to plead and beg for him to make me cum, but I couldn’t even speak properly through the loud whines and moans spilling freely out of my throat, tongue completely useless and wooden, and any attempt to speak got drown out by Seonghwa’s grunts and groans anyway. So I put the matter into my own hands, quite literally.

I quickly stuck my hand down between my legs and went straight for my clit, pressing on it desperately, half expecting Seonghwa to push it away and punish me, but the man only laughed, head thrown back beautifully to showcase his neck shining with perspiration. When his head lolled back, he was grinning brilliantly, eyes half-lidded and yet so alert it was scary. He was drinking it all up, taking in the spectacle and enjoying the show.

“Look at you, making yourself cum on my cock,” he teased breathily, trying to keep the same tempo but I could feel he was slipping too, “If I knew you’d be cumming your brain out within a few thrusts like this, I’d have treated you like that from the beginning, darling.” I barely registered it, instead everything inside of me screaming from teetering on the edge for too long.

And then suddenly I stuttered and gasped, everything crashing onto me in a burst of fire, and I was cumming so fiercely I screamed, cunt clenching strongly enough to restrict his movement, but he continued slamming into me forcefully as if nothing happened, as if it was nothing while I shook and jerked and cried, the feeling overtaking me with such intensity I blacked out for a moment, eyes rolling back into the back of my skull and my tongue lolling out of my mouth and dripping drool everywhere. Everything was just white noise, and all I could register were my curling toes, my fingers digging into the fabric hard enough to hurt, the feeling of my juices streaming down my thighs as I came and my cunt pumping the most delicious euphoria I’ve ever felt through my body, like sweet ambrosia running through my veins.

I heaved a deep breath suddenly, like coming up through the surface after almost drowning, my body snapping back into itself as the climax turned into a continuous shivering electric hum under my skin. I felt even barely conscious, eyes slipping closed after the intensity of the orgasm plundering through me at the hands of the beautiful man.

But Seonghwa was still thrusting into me, plunging deep and keeping practically the same tempo, and I cried out in overstimulation, instinctively trying to pull away from him, but he kept me in place with his grip, never faltering and taking what he wanted. He was grunting and loudly gasping for air behind me, clearly also on the edge of finding his release, while I was fucked into complete oversensitivity, every new thrust sending scalding hot fireworks through my tired body.

His pace changed, his strokes getting more heavy-handed as he focused more on delivering deep hard thrusts instead of keeping up his pace, the impact of our bodies strong enough to make loud slapping noises that flew through the room, and in any normal kind of headspace it would make me embarrassed, but now I could barely think about anything else other than the hard hot cock making me go crazy and slowly pushing me towards a third high.

Seonghwa curled around me slightly, crumpling with the force of his oncoming orgasm, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open, his hands digging into me with such force I was afraid they were drawing blood.

This was pure animalistic fucking, the kind that I’ve never experienced before, and wasn’t fully prepared for what was in store for me, turning me into a lifeless ragdoll in his hands, just taking it, body jolting around on the soft settee along with his movements.

“I’m going to ruin you for him,” gasped out Seonghwa abruptly after such a long period of silence. His mind seemed to be completely gone, eyes glazed over with something insane and dangerous. His hips pumped desperately, and I felt his cock twitching wildly inside of me just begging to burst.

“I’m going to ruin you for him and for everyone else,” he continued hurriedly, the words falling out of him quickly and with force, “every time he even tries, you’ll only be thinking about how I gave it to you better than any man ever could. My sweet little sister-in-law thinking about my cock while fucking her husband.” A long groan left him, the image he was painting getting to him and pushing him towards the edge hard, his eyes squeezing shut tightly.

I moaned out weakly at that, heat clamping down on him once again in response to his filthy words, and there was an absolutely debauched high-pitched moan from behind me before I felt Seonghwa explode, cumming in strong thick spurts that filled me up quickly as his hips jerked forward with the momentum, trying to press himself as deep as possible to deposit his load.

Another wave similar to a weak orgasm rolled through me and I shivered under him, body protesting and begging me for a reprieve.

We stilled, both trying to catch our breath and recover from the highs we went through, and Seonghwa leaned down, plastering himself to my back. The heat rose at the contact of our two bodies and it was nearly unbearable, but then suddenly the man was giggling darkly into my ear and dread rolled through me at the sound. His lips attached themselves lightly to the lobe, playing with it a little before getting to the point.

“Gave you my load nice and deep darling,” he whispered conspiratorially, another breathless chuckle escaping him, “just like your pussy wanted.” There was a terrible beat of silence, the calm before storm, the dark awful moment before a disaster strikes. I felt his lips pressing closer to the shell of my ear, almost feeling the shape of his smirk.

“Wouldn’t it be ironic…” he started playfully, intentionally avoiding what he wanted to say, until he finally whispered: “How fun would it be if his first son was my bastard, huh? If I got you nice and pregnant tonight and sent you back with a little gift? Wouldn’t you agree, darling?”

A sense of dread and panic started setting into my stomach, but I was too tired, too drained, and I couldn’t do anything except lie there under him and slowly come to terms with my fate. My eyes were even barely open, but I saw enough of him to know that he had more than just a little sick satisfaction from that. The only thing I could do was turn my gaze away and quietly stew in the possible consequences of my lapse of judgement.

“He took everything of mine,” Seonghwa said with dark finality, “It’s only fair I take something of his.” I didn’t react to that, letting him ride the high all on his own while I just wanted to lie down and sleep. But he seemed to have a different idea of how this evening would continue.

With a deep rumbling laugh he gently gathered me in his arms, dislodging himself from me in the process. I blushed lightly at the feeling of his thick cum trickling down my thighs immediately, but I bet it could be barely seen on my sweaty red face. I dreaded to see the state of my makeup after all of this, or the state of the sofa where my face got smushed into the light brown fabric. Or where I, you know, got fucked into oblivion.

Seonghwa happily heaved me up and started walking towards the king bed in the other room, softly laying me down on the bedding. In my half delirious state my tired brain tried catch up with him now that he flipped again and started being all kind, but I just watched him warily as he moved about the room elegantly.

His clothes were somehow still perfectly in place, except for his pants that were open and hanging onto his hips by sheer willpower. I could see the dark stains of my slick on them alongside some colourful smudges of my makeup and I blushed again, the shame catching up on me now that my brain wasn’t as heated anymore, and I could think at least a little clearly.

I was gathering up my strength to sit up and remove the rest of the tattered lingerie (and my shoes, somehow I managed to forget my heels were still firmly strapped on my feet), when I felt a shadow fall over me. My eyes blinked open slowly, taking in Seonghwa who suddenly appeared at the foot of the bed, looking down on me amusedly.

I watched on as he slowly started loosening his tie and undoing the buttons on his black vest and white shirt. He undressed unhurriedly, the whole time hypnotising me with dark eyes and the bad premonition rose in me once more, the pit in my stomach opening. But if it was with dread or hunger, I couldn’t tell.

Once he got rid of everything except for his pants and underwear, which was on again even though there was a dark wet stain on it, I was already inched up all the way in the middle of the bed as if instinctively trying to put some distance between us. The predatory glint in his eyes told me he was very aware of that; it was trained on me like a wolf’s gaze on a helpless rabbit.

He leisurely climbed onto the bed, one leg after another, beautiful muscled torso on display, just miles of flawless honey-toned skin rippling with every fluid movement of his lithe body. Suddenly he leaned forward and his hands clasped around my ankles like shackles, but his touch remained delicate, a complete one eighty from the ruthless man before.

While keeping his eyes trained on mine, he languidly bent down and placed a barely there kiss on the skin right above my ankle, and I shivered at the caress, my legs tensing and trembling under his care. Seonghwa smirked lightly, snickered quietly and put his lips back to work.

As he unhurriedly climbed up my legs, crawling over me with his hands and lips reverently tracing my heated skin, here or there swiping his tongue over it and tasting the salt of our combined sweat, I laid there and observed him with bated breath, tentative excitement beginning to swirl in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure whether I could go on, but it was hard to remain cold under his lustful stare and gentle hands.

When he reached my crotch I gasped and he laughed at me, nosing a little around the sensitive area and staring like a hawk at my reaction. Trying hard not to break I pursed my lips together hard, but I couldn’t conceal whatever it was that swam in my eyes to which he seemed to be drawn the most. I cursed at my weak mind and flesh and threw my head back in surrender, thighs automatically falling more apart to give him space to operate.

My heart gave a few painful pumps, and I tried not to think about what was happening here, tried to not think about what night this was and who I was with, but the man seemed determined not to let me forget what sin we were committing here.

An amused chuckle flew out his mouth at me, I felt the puff of air hit my sensitive slit and jolted a little with a quiet gasp, but he only kissed the top of my mound and then moved on to kiss at my hip and further up.

“I’d love to clean up your naughty little pussy, darling,” he whispered into my navel stuttering and trembling with my uneven breaths, “but I want my cum stay right where it is for just a moment longer.” I shuddered at that, a pulse of heat running through me. My hands, all sweaty and clammy, desperately grabbed onto the sheet and dug deep into the mattress in a miserable attempt to not grasp onto him.

Seonghwa slowly kissed his way all the way up to my breasts and suddenly his way was obstructed by the remnants of my night-dress, the white lacy bra barely holding on after he ripped off the lower half of the set. After one cheeky glance my way he sat up and tapped my side gently.

“Arch that back for me for a moment doll, let me take it off for you,” trickled out of his mouth in a sensual drawl, hands already sliding to my back. I listened, of course I did, even though I still stubbornly refused to meet his eyes and turned my head to the side, instead looking out the window at the night Seoul. The man’s reflection was embedded there, obstructing my view and forcing me to perceive him until the bitter end. I watched as he moved fluidly, hands caressing their way up my back and searching for the clasp, undoing it with a single blind flick of his fingers.

I felt the fabric give and slide off of me slightly, before Seonghwa dutifully moved to collect it and move it away, quickly taking it off and throwing it to the side towards the closet. I kept my eyes trained on the vision he was, a dark silhouette backlit with golden light, almost shining skin like a halo, on the backdrop of the beautiful nightline. It was ethereal, he looked ethereal.

The figure moved again, smoothing himself out over the bed, anchoring himself between my thighs. I witnessed him languidly bend down, like he had all the time in the world, a soft smirk on his face that spoke of victory. The same moment his head ducked down lazily, I felt the man’s hot breath hit my skin and then he was licking a bold stripe up the strip between my breasts. In the reflection, the two forms moulded together, and I felt myself arch up into him and gasp, breaking the eye contact with the window.

I lost the battle to my hands and finally reached for him, needed to feel him and grab on to him so viscerally I almost couldn’t breathe with the desire. I ran up the smooth planes of his back until I finally tangled them into his long black messed up hair, for the second time that night.

Contrary to what I expected, Seonghwa kept himself calm and only migrated to softly play with my tit, pulling the nipple into his mouth and lightly sucking, sending tingling down my spine. He wasn’t hurried at all, the lazy strokes of his tongue around the little nub and the sucks pleasantly sending bursts of warmth through me.

His hands held my tits from the sides, pushing them together as he trailed his mouth all over them, laying down searing branding kisses, alternating between the two nipples and biting lightly. I surrendered to the feeling, letting the beautiful man play me as he pleased, curling into him and hands pulling him closer, massaging the skin of his back and his shoulders.

I was obsessed with the feeling of him under my hands, the heat radiating off of him, the softness of his skin compared to the firmness of the muscle bellow, feeling it ripple as he moved himself closer and plunged his head between my tits, feeling it vibrate with his light moans and sighs of pleasure. It felt like I was losing my mind, body melting into him and eternally begging for more.

I had my eyes closed firmly shut, head thrown back and all thoughts banished except for the sensation of his wet tongue exploring every inch of me and leaving a trail of shivers behind. Without me realising it my thighs rose to cage his waist and hips, hitching up to the back of his thighs and latching onto him so he could never leave and deprive me of this feeling.

Seonghwa was full of happy chuffs and amused chuckles, just entertaining himself by watching me struggle to contain the lust, and I could feel his eyes on me, the dark orbs taking me in as I laid there under him and pleaded for his attention without even having to say a single word.

After what felt like hours of just worshipping my tits, until not even a single millimetre of my skin wasn’t kissed or licked or sucked by his naughty mouth, he finally moved higher and settled into the crook of my neck and latching onto the soft spot right under my ear, making me keen and sigh and whimper. He paid the same attention to my neck, marking it all up with searing kisses and bites that left a gentle sting mixing into the pleasure and I felt my cunt gushing once more, getting ready to take him again.

This new position had our hips perfectly aligned and there was an unmistakable bulge pressing into my centre, and before I could stop myself or think about it, I started gyrating my hips and rubbing myself all over him.

“Being so naughty again, princess,” Seonghwa murmured into my skin with a snicker, “Need another good fucking? Want another load from your brother-in-law, is that it?” I whined, turning my head away from him in embarrassment, but he didn’t seem bothered and only pressed himself closer. I hated when he was using that name for himself, but I couldn’t deny it was the truth. I’ve done such a good job of ignoring that blaring fact, but he never failed to bring me back firmly onto Earth.

Then his hand slowly sneaked from my breasts down my stomach between my legs and he immediately pressed two fingers onto my clit, forcing a stuttered moan out of my throat.

My pussy was so raw and tender after the fucking it received, just wet and swollen and burning, burning for more and begging to be filled and ravaged again, and I knew the moment I’d get his cock inside me again it would feel like getting branded with a fired seal, but I craved nothing more than to have the tip battering my sweet spot until I couldn’t speak.

His fingers didn’t waste time and after some playing around with the sensitive aching nub, he plunged them as deep inside as they could go, giving me a nice substitute but knowing they wouldn’t fill me up enough, not in the way I craved as I began to lose my mind to the lust once more.

The residues of his last release squelched and spurted around his fingers as he began slowly but forcefully fucking me with them, turning it into even a bigger mess, but I barely cared when I had something to clench onto and ride the feeling.

I absolutely felt like I was going through a heat, like I wasn’t capable of single thought beyond getting absolutely railed by this stunning cruel man. At the back of my head countless alarms blared through the night, but I ignored all of them. So what if he did it for revenge? So what if he didn’t care one bit? So what if this had potentially devastating consequences? Nothing mattered as long as he kept fucking me and making me cum.

“How’s that, darling?” he asked on a mean turn of his fingers, forcing them deeper into me and curling them into the most sensitive patch, “Enjoying your brother-in-law’s fingers? You’re such a dirty little whore, letting me have my way with you on your wedding night.” The equally fascinated and mocking tone of his voice was back, hypnotising me with its sweetness and luring me in just to hammer my shame home even further.

I ignored the way I clenched around him at those words, though Seonghwa no doubt noticed judging by the snickers and giggles that kept escaping him as he watched me flail about on the bed under his ministrations. The whine that did claw its way out of me was completely involuntary though and I tried to cover it up with a loud exclamation of “Seonghwa!”. I truly meant it as a reprimand, but it came out as a helpless moan as I felt a shockwave of pleasure rushing through me.

And had I been watching the man, I’d see the way his already blown out pupils dilated with lust even more, as the familiar glint of aroused craze settled back into them.

“Fuck, darling, I really do like hearing you say my name like that,” he whispered breathlessly, fingers picking up the pace, “And you’re absolutely right. You should be screaming my name, you should scream yourself hoarse on my cock so you’d never forget..”

I panted heavily and my legs kept tensing with the rising feeling of another orgasm coming, this time the tidal wave rising higher and higher, the tension getting more strung up and tightening around my core like a string about to snap. But I needed more. I wanted more.

Letting go of all the inhibitions I had left, I grabbed onto the man, desperately pulling at him as I arched more, thighs falling open and hips canting up to feel his thin frame lodge into mine even more. My eyes blinked open after what felt like a whole eternity in a blissful darkness and sought out his immediately, looking into those all-consuming orbs watching my every move.

“Please, Seonghwa…” came out as a hoarse whisper, more a desperate whine than anything, “fuck, please! Please, give me something!” A wicked fucking grin split his face and I realised that it was what he was waiting for this whole time. To break me enough to beg for it all on my own. A dark anticipation ran through me, knowing I’d finally get what he’d been teasing me with.

And I couldn’t even feel bad about it when the man finally extricated himself from me, settled on his knees and pushed his trousers and underwear off, baring himself to me for the first time that night. Or early morning, I had no idea how much time has actually passed.

I was taking his lean figure in hungrily, eyes scaling up and down the elegant planes and curves that hid so much muscle and strength under deceptive beauty, and of course, his beautiful cock standing tall, thin, long and angry red at the weeping tip, all but begging to get back inside of my warmth. And who was I to take that away from him?

Clocking in how starvingly I was eyeing his length, the man smirked at me, hand going to grip my jaw and force my eyes back to his face. There was an arrogant self-satisfied grimace, knowing he’d captivated me like no other before.

“Now now, be a good girl,” Seonghwa taunted darkly, “and maybe I’ll let you suck it some other time.” The promise in that sentence sent shivers and goosebumps down the line of my body, but I couldn’t decide whether it was dread or pure ecstasy at knowing I’d get him like this again, already completely hooked on what he was offering. I licked my lips and his eyes jumped briefly down, lips absentmindedly turning into a smile and then he released me.

Now fully naked, he teasingly slowly settled over me, hips anchoring themselves between my thighs like before, but this time he went for my mouth in another claiming kiss, grabbing onto the side of my head as he pushed his tongue in immediately and eagerly drank up all my little noises of surprise and joy.

This kiss was different though, languid and deliberate and deep, the slow strokes almost lazy in nature, and I keened into him, eyes rolling back with the sensations that washed over me both suddenly and gradually at the same time.

And then, without any warning, he started pushing in, much like he was kissing me – languidly and deliberately driving into me in a slow motion, until our hips were moulded together. And this time it felt like he was even deeper, just sitting there inside of me, pushing into me in a way that was making me crazy without even moving, the weight of having him pressed there enough to choke me up on a sob.

My mouth opened on a moan and Seonghwa hungrily ate it up, mouth continuing to work me and kiss me even though I grew unresponsive in his arms, eyes glazed and unseeing.

And just like before, contrary to my expectations, he didn’t start wildly thrusting into me. Instead he just as slowly pulled out and pushed back in, hips fluidly moving in broad slow strokes and I felt like he was pumping hot molten iron into my circulation.

Our mouths disconnected with a lewd gasp, a few strings of saliva connecting us together until his dark grin broke them. We were so close to each other, our skin melded together by sweat, bodies sliding against each other with every leisured thrust. He stayed hovering right above me, our noses brushing together and breaths mingling. Seonghwa drank up every little twitch of my face with his dark blown out eyes and I couldn’t help but keep my wide open, staring right back.

The eye contact was intense, and I felt sparks jumping between us, but neither of us broke. We just breathed into each other’s lips, brushing but not initiating another kiss. It was so intimate it almost fooled me into believing we cared about each other; with one of his hands reverently caressing my side and the gentle steady pace of his hips, it would have been easy to believe that.

Seonghwa shifted slightly, so that he was leaning on his elbow placed by my shoulder, while the free hand travelled down again to grasp at my hip. Pinning me down to the bed, he roughed up the pace a little, snapping his hips to me a little harder. That finally got me breaking out of the spell and the moment he hammered into my sweet spot, my eyes rolled back into my head and I moaned whinily.

I grabbed onto him, at first onto the shoulders and then I migrated to his waist. Seonghwa chuckled and swerved to get back to my neck, giggling lightly straight into my ear.

“That’s it, darling,” he whispered devotedly, voice honeyed and curling around my senses like a snake, “Fuck, yeah, that’s it…” I took in a shaky breath and immediately tensed at another perfectly aimed pump.

“Seonghwa..” I whimpered out, arching under him even more if that even was possible, legs curling around his hips, and he suddenly pulled back his arm to grab onto my right knee and force it all the way until it hit the mattress, opening me up to him and sliding in even deeper on the next stroke. I choked on a whine, the gradual build up of another orgasm turning my tongue into lead and whiting out my mind.

Seonghwa stubbornly refused to speed up, even though I was hopelessly writhing underneath him on the king bed in the honeymoon suite, husband of barely few hours drunken halfway to death somewhere in this 60-storey building, and here I was. Falling apart another man’s cock, begging for more.

“S-Seonghwa!” I choked out again, “Please, please, fuck I need something!” My cunt felt so raw and sensitive from all the fucking and orgasms before and every time he plunged back inside, slowly to make me feel every inch, every ridge, until his tip nudged as deep as it could go, it ignited me in a way that seemed to touch deep enough to burn my soul.

I felt the sweat trickling down my body, from the creases on the inside of my knees, from beneath my breasts, down my neck and hairline, we both felt so sweaty we stuck together, every movement made smooth by it. It made the slapping noise of our bodies meeting each other wetter, along with my juices that must have by now covered absolutely everything. The heat was nigh unbearable, but it was consuming me from the inside out just like all the other sensations, making my brain even more muddled.

I fought to focus my eyes again, pull them towards Seonghwa, to see the man that was ruining me like this, to see what kind of expression was on his face. The moment I rolled my head back, he was there. The man must have gone back to watching me at some point without me realising it, because there he was, with his face wet with perspiration and hair sticking to his forehead, eyes almost black and lips curled loosely into a smug grin.

“There you are, darling,” fell out of his lips easily, in the otherwise pretty silent room it was almost too loud. I gasped and hiccupped, still hanging onto him like a lifeline.

“After this, what I wouldn’t give to have you ride me, pretty girl,” the man continued now that he had my attention again, “To see your tits bounce as you ride my cock, to fill you up with another load… I know you deserve another one, don’t you pretty girl?” He grew breathless with every word, hips losing rhythm and snapping a little faster, not much but a smidge. I appreciated it all the same, chanting a row of “yes, yes, yes!” while he laughed at me like I was pathetic.

“I’ll have you do it some other time, darling,” Seonghwa just kept going, my reactions fuel to his fire, hips now swirling with every thrust, working in little circles like he was just amusing himself, “after all, I’ll probably need to pump you full a couple times before it takes, huh? And we have all the time in the universe… now that we’re family.”

I whined, but it was drowned out by the noise inside of my head. Sparks were erupting all over my body, the steady pace he set putting just enough pressure on my g-spot to have me stiffening and growing taunt, getting pushed closer and closer to an edge that was already so familiar to me by now.

“Like that!” I couldn’t hold back the scream, head thrown back into the pillows, “Hwa! Hwa, please don’t stop!” The man in question didn’t laugh at me like I anticipated, instead he bent down until our foreheads were almost touching, hand clenching on my knee and keeping it pushed into the bedding, hips enthusiastically pumping into me in a deep circular motion. There were some soft creaks of the bed that got lost to my relieved moans, drowned in the cacophony that was us.

The shaking started up again, the feeling close to overcoming me so intense my whole body shook and trembled as I gasped and moaned, my throat hoarse and lips bitten raw (whether it be from Seonghwa or my own self).

Seemed that the man for once decided to listen to me, cause he kept his pace and aimed at that one spot until I felt the wave rising, rising, pussy clenching and squeezing. It was mounting way more intensely than before and I found myself thrashing, feeling like I was about to explode.

My fingers dug into Seonghwa’s skin, enough to leave him some nasty marks and scratches, and I heard the man hiss in pleasure, hips kicking forward a little rougher and all it took was two, three, four more pumps and then everything burst out in blinding deafening blast, body contorting as much as it could twist under Seonghwa, toes curling and the ecstasy shot through me, shot out of me in strong currents of relief and it felt so fucking good, so good I could cry (and I probably did).

Once the first wave fell off a little, I registered Seonghwa’s stuttered moans and curses, hips jerking wildly, drawing out the euphoria endlessly until I thought I might die between the never-ending pulses of pleasure. The feeling of wetness rose tenfold between us, but my brain couldn’t comprehend anything.

I kept moaning as Seonghwa kept thrusting, going with the feeling and riding the high, listening to his desperate groans and murmurs. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, not fully, everything still fuzzy on the edges and my bones molten gold, even the air I was breathing was full of ecstasy and everything swam in front of my eyes.

“Look at me darling, fuck, look at me,” his desperate moan pulled my attention, and I did my best to focus on him. Eyes blown wide and hair messy, golden skin dewy with drops of perspiration; I felt one hit my skin and splatter and it was almost burning.

“Fuck, I wanna see you when I fill you up one last time, pretty girl,” Seonghwa gasped out, hold tightening on my thigh and mouth open wide gasping into mine as our noses slid against each other with sweat.

When he came, I felt it viscerally through my whole body.

At first, he trembled under my hands, muscles growing taunt. Then his hips kicked forward forcefully and suddenly an overflow of scalding hot seed spilt into me in thick long spurts. Seonghwa’s face fell to my neck and his high-pitched moans reverberated through my chest and I lied there gasping, walls contracting, trying to keep everything inside. It was a primitive instinct, but I knew no better than to get absolutely bred and fucked after all.

There were little tremors running through me, aftershocks of the orgasm, aftershocks of feeling Seonghwa’s orgasm so close, of the raw pleasure it brought me to feel him release inside of me. But as the adrenaline started wearing off, I suddenly felt dizzy and boneless.

Seonghwa was like the devil, lips pressed to the shell of my ear and whispering, tattering off with hushed praises, hands caressing me and his weight comfortably pressing me down into the bed. I felt the warmth of his cum trickling down the cleft of my ass, escaping around his softening cock still lodged inside of me.

“You’re amazing darling, I had no idea you’d squirt for me like that,” I caught one of the things he muttered into my neck sweetly, kissing along the column of it in gently, “such a good girl for me…” Everything wavered, growing dark.

My eyes were closing by themselves, and I could barely keep myself awake enough to hear what he said next, the gravity making itself known once more and pulling my heavy body into the bedding. I slowly drifted off to his soft whispers and tender touches.

Waking up the next morning, if someone told me I got runover by a truck in my sleep, I’d have believed them. I’d fucking swear my body creaked when I tried to move, the muscles protesting and bones cracking into place one by one.

Upon stretching I realised that I was laid in clean sheets. I distinctly remembered falling asleep in a bed that was soaked through with release and sweat, the feeling of the cold wet bedding on my rapidly cooling skin was uncomfortable enough to burn into my memory. I was still naked though.

The next thing I noticed had mortification mixed with shame spreading through me rapidly and I didn’t know whether to blush or just burst out crying. I could feel the dried up cum coating my heat and thighs, meaning he didn’t clean me up afterwards.

I wanted to hate him and paint him in my mind as an asshole that didn’t give two shits about aftercare, since it wouldn’t be that big of a leap honestly, but if I got to know one thing about him yesterday, it’s that he most definitely left it on purpose.

Just as I was cursing him in my mind and figuring out how to take a shower while my entire body refused to work, there was a groan and a ruffle of sheets from behind me. I froze immediately and panic gripped me.

If the bastard didn’t even leave… Anyone could come in at any moment, there’s no explaining the fate that would befall me if I was caught here like this.

But when I finally willed myself through the panic to turn around and face it head on, there was my husband, sleeping like a baby. He was undressed and smelled absolutely horrendously, but it was him unmistakably. Unfortunately. A vague shape of a memory fought its way to the surface in my mind – blearing through sleepy eyes glued together at the shadow of Seonghwa pulling someone into the room, the rustling of sheets and nondescript cursing and thuds – before I got pulled back under.

Great. Just awesome

After few moments of struggling to stand up and balance my weight on my shaky unsteady knees, I finally managed to set out on my way to the bathroom. It was all across the suite and in the process, I got to witness the doom of our night together.

The poor sofa had a stain and a few splatters on it, and I didn’t wish to investigate their origin any further, so I moved through the tattered remains of my wedding dress that was split in the middle almost cleanly. At some point one of us had to knock over a champagne glass, because I almost stepped on it while looking over the dress, instead landing my foot in still a vaguely damp sticky pool of drying alcohol seeping into the carpet and lower tiers of the dress. I ignored the mortification and embarrassment at the clear display of complete mess and soldiered on shakily.

Getting to the bathroom was a whole ordeal, but when I made it, I had no idea the true show was yet to begin. There in mirror was my reflection, it was much clearer than the ones I had burned into my memory of yesterday, there were no blinding lights behind it, no dark sky to distract, only me covered in marks from head to toe, hair a fucked-out nest and eyes red-rimmed.

I breathed out a sigh, resignation setting in as I looked at the state of me. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t even have my makeup here, it was a hot summer outside. I would have to walk out of here eventually and I couldn’t hide even an inch of the reddish and purplish spots and bitemarks that littered the skin of my neck and the swell of my breasts. The bites tapered out a little there and I looked down, seeing the carnage that was my hips with vivid marks of fingers and hands printed on my skin.

For a moment I stood there, eyes squeezed shut and face pulled into a frustrated grimace, but then I just sighed deeply again, the tension quickly bleeding out of me. What was done, was done.

With slumped shoulders I dragged my feet to the shower, trying to make myself forget as much as possible and wash away all the evidence that could be taken off with the soft floral soap.

I hid away in the bathroom for as long as was humanly possible, going through all the extra steps of trying out the several samples of moisturizes and drying my hair until it was almost fried, even cleaning up after myself. If I had the solution, I’d even polish the fucking mirror, but eventually there came a knock on my door and a timid maid informed me I was eagerly awaited at the brunch. I waited to hear her leave, and then with shaky hands pushed the door open.

The room was already empty when I stepped out, but it was clean – the carpet with the dress were gone and the offending sofa stain was covered up with a throw blanket, I supposed until they could get to cleaning it. A single pile of folded clothes sat on the table.

I didn’t even question it until I had it in my hands and realised both the top and the skirt covered just enough to be decent, but most of the marks would be pretty much visible, the spaghetti straps barely covering anything and the slit between my top and bottom showing off the fingerprints on my waist. Rolling my eyes annoyedly I fucking immediately knew this was Seonghwa’s pick.

I was going to murder the man once I got my damn hands on him.

With no other choice left in the empty room, I put it on and made my way downstairs. It was a real walk of shame, all the eyes turning my way and examining my colourful state. Even knowing the staff were all aware it was my wedding night didn’t make it any easier, and at some point, I found the idea of them thinking this was Yujun’s job actually worse than knowing it was his brother. I shimmied quickly down the halls until I reached the little private salon where we were apparently being hosted.

Without realising how bad my day was about to get, I hurriedly rounded the partition and promptly froze in my tracks. This wasn’t a private breakfast. As soon as I stepped into the space, there was several sets of eyes trained on me, more sets than I was comfortable with.

At the head of the table sat my mother and Mrs. Park, both alternating between casting judging glances towards Yujun and towards me, on one side of the table sat three of Yujun’s obnoxious buddies and on the other I found myself once again face to face with Seonghwa.

He was eyeing me with undeniable interest, pupils dark and hungry. Proud. He liked the clothes. Liked showing me off. I flushed but thankfully the embarrassment was easily explainable by the sudden attention from everyone else, especially since Yujun’s bodies started murmuring something no doubt very inappropriate, judging by their lewd expressions.

It was awful and I wanted to fucking melt into the floor, so I stood there for few long moments battling myself to stay put and not turn on my heels and walk straight out of the hotel and into the sea.

Yujun was puffing up his chest, much to the distaste of our mothers sitting right by his side, but he was ignoring them and already sending looks to his friends and looking like a right idiot. I fought to keep the scowl off of my face, and when I finally forced myself to move to sit down in the only spot left at the table, I kicked Seonghwa who was grinning in a very much “cat who ate the canary” way.

The man barely reacted to me and continued leisurely eating his waffles, so self-satisfied it rolled off of him in fucking waves. And what was even worse, of course I had to sit in between him and Yujun. The gods couldn’t be more against me, but I soldiered on. I really had no other option.

I tried not to insert myself into the conversation too much. After the initial shock of my entrance wore off, the hum of amicable chat resumed. I ignored some very uncouth comments and soon they lost interest in teasing me when I stubbornly stared into my cup or food and didn’t react at all. The brunch dragged on with the air of awkwardness hanging over everybody, our mothers attempting to pull the table back to polite conversation while Yujun continued making an idiot out of himself by behaving like a fucking caveman.

Or maybe it was just me, my husband and his buddies certainly seemed in great spirits. I almost scoffed, managing to put my hand in front of my face last minute and cough. I heard Seonghwa’s quiet snickers to my right and registered my mother’s warning glance, and after that I didn’t speak another word.

And just when I thought I had escaped, with the empty plates signalling the end of the brunch was in sight, I felt a hand on my thigh. My right thigh. Seonghwa looked at me from the corner of his eye, lips dangerously curved into a playful smirk. I tensed, body slowly turning to stone.

Everybody else carried on.

My heart was pumping painfully, hands shaking. An awful feeling of despair set into me, my chest cavity filling with black tar while my head spun. What had I gotten myself into?

“Seonghwa, thank you for letting us use the hotel,” my mother said, completely clueless, “it was so very helpful.”

He laughed gently, hand squeezing my thigh possessively.

“Trust me, it was my pleasure.”

thank you for reading!

the divider taken from the amazingly talented @saradika-graphics

#kpop smut #kpop fic #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #seonghwa fic #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #ateez #seonghwa #ateez angst #seonghwa angst

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itsswritten · 8 months ago

Text

just some flowery fun

Pairing: Azriel x fem fairy reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral fem receiving, p in v, flower sex.

Summary: There's one final fairy custom yet to complete. And it involves, you, Azriel and a flower.

Wings Universe - more from your favourite couple here.

Azriel found you on the outskirts of a night court meadow, the one where every kind of flower seemed to bloom. It was as if a rainbow had been painted across the land, as shades of coral, emerald and indigo overwhelmed the earth. Amongst all the colour and distraction, he noticed you though. No matter where you were, even if you were hidden, he would always find you. That blush coloured glow you unknowingly emitted, had trapped him like a siren’s call long ago.

Azriel watched you from a distance, crouched down, pulling little mushrooms to put in your basket. He wondered if you were collecting them for dinner or if you’d trade them at the market in the morning.

You looked so beautiful under the evening sun. The beacon in the sky, casting it’s golden hues across the land. The light flickering through your rosy wings that were unfurled behind you.

“Sorry I’m late my love,” Azriel spoke softly, his steps crunching through the forest grounds to meet you at the woodland border.

You had already known he was near, if it wasn’t that glowing bond that always seemed to tell you when he was close by, it was his little shadows who would often sprint ahead to meet you before their master. The little wisps were already threading their way through your hair, some helping you with your task at hand. Hastily picking the mushrooms and placing them in your basket neatly.

There were a few that were also a little impatient at times, perhaps a direct reflection of their master. You always saw his shadows imitating parts of him, parts he tried to keep hidden, even parts he felt embarrassed to show.

There was his nurturing side, how he always wanted to take care of you and support you. His shadows would often help you with tasks, or carry your tools for you. There was his playful side, a somewhat rare appearance but his shadows often liked toy and tease you. And of course there was his obsessive side, now only amplified by the mating bond– and the exact reason why some of his shadows were so desperate for you to see Azriel instantly.

The little tendril pulled your hand with a desperate tug as it sensed Azriel near, his voice singing through the trees to reach you. But you didn’t relent to its touch, finishing your task at hand as you felt your mate step beside you.

The shadows were like impatient little children, they would learn– with time.

A gentle smile spread across your lips, your hand coming above your brow to block the sun as you glanced up towards your beautiful mate. The golden hour reflecting off those hazel eyes you loved so much.

“You’re not late, don’t worry,” You reassured him, moving to your feet, your head still craning to look at your Illyrian giant of a lover.

It was only a mere second before Azriel’s arms engulfed you, his wings following suit as they wrapped around protectively. Shadows swirling around in delight that you were both finally reunited– you’d have thought by their reaction that it had been days.

No, only a mere eight hours.

But you allowed this. Didn’t pull away. Because if there was anyone more deserving of these kind of touches, it was Azriel.

You would always indulge him, never pull away first.

If he had his way, he would be attached to you at the hip. There were definitely some adjustments that were made when you first came back from your mating trip. Despite the mating frenzy supposedly being over, Azriel’s clinginess never seemed to dissipate. There was something about touching you that calmed him in a way nothing else ever could.

So he actively seeked it out.

It was such an interesting revelation to his family. The usual brooding stoic Shadowsinger, who preferred to accompany a quiet corner of a room or a boring wall– was quite fond of public displays of affection. Maybe it was the clinginess, or his possessiveness wanting to lay claim for everyone to see, but Azriel couldn’t stop touching you.

There were plenty of times your found-family would watch their brother follow you like a lost puppy, hands and shadows always reaching for some skin-to-skin connection.

It was endearing really, and well…you loved his touch too much to ever reject it.

After a few moments, you felt Azriel press his lips atop of your head, felt him inhale your scent before allowing his wings to unwrap and loosen his grip on you. Although, his hand had found its way to the small of your back, keeping you close while his other hand gently brushed the hair from your face. His fingers softly adjusting the flowers you’d braided into your hair that morning.

With a slight tilt of your chin, your lips brushed against his wrist. Leaving a light kiss across the delicate skin, causing a lazy smile to grow across his tan face. A smile he only ever showed when he felt calm, safe and content.

The meadows were quieter now, evenings were always a little softer. A change in shift patterns meant fewer fairies roamed and of course the day creatures were getting settled for slumber.

A breeze flowed that scent of night-chilled air and cedar that could send you into a slumber or a frenzy depending on your mood. You closed your eyes for a moment, to allow yourself to fully embrace that sense. As if the sense of sight might just distract you from its loveliness.

“Now…will you tell me why I had to meet you here? Not that I mind picking you up from work. But I didn’t think we were doing this anymore,” Azriel questioned, wondering why you had been so adamant he met you here.

The pad on his thumb trailing across your lashes gently before you fluttered them open again in a hum.

Originally after you’d accepted the bond, Azriel had been insistent on taking you to work, picking you up from work and well… not ever leaving your side. It rapidly became apparent that you had a slight problem.

Not that you didn’t love your mates company, god's no. Azriel was your favourite person to be with. But you were dedicated to your work, in fact a little finicky when it came to it…and your prowling possessive mate would sometimes complicate things.

There was also the fact Azriel was skipping his own duties, taking delegating to a whole new level. Not once in his life had he ever delegated his workload to others, but after the mating frenzy he fully embraced it. Something the Spymaster never thought he would do.

But you see Azriel would do anything to spend more time with you.

Including skipping work.

It had taken a long but soft conversation to come to the agreement you’re at now. A lot of hushed disagreements and finally some whispered promises that you would be okay if he wasn’t always by your side.

But of course Azriel knew you would be okay. It was he who could barely function without you.

You had both settled on a compromise, one you knew Rhys was also incredibly happy with. Especially as the way Azriel was heading, it seemed as though a retirement was a more likely outcome.

Azriel would take you to work, and on every fifth day he was allowed to join you for lunch in the meadows. But, and this was important, you would commute home with your friends, meeting Azriel in the city before coming home.

You loved your friends, your community of fairies. This part of your life was so incredibly important to you, and you were so ingrained in the culture that you weren’t willing to compromise on it, especially not to satisfy a needy– sometimes simply horny– mate.

He would survive.

Most fairies lived out in the meadows, but some, just like you and Elodie lived in the city. Preferring the hustle and bustle of Velaris.

It wasn’t just Rhys, and Elodie who were happy to get more time with their friends again. A lot of your fellow male fairies were extremely pleased and grateful, to not have the deadly Spymaster glaring at their backs while they worked.

It was intimidating for sure, but you couldn’t deny that you’d thought it was actually a little attractive. You never told him though, knowing it would have made him throw in the towel and retire right then and there. Choosing to spend the rest of his days as your own personal bodyguard.

“Hmm oh yes, well there was something I wanted to ask you Az,”

Azriel quirked his brow in question.

“You’ve been so dedicated to embracing my culture and customs…but,” you said with a slight smirk, your fingers trailing down to the daisy chain bracelet that was wrapped around your mate’s wrist.

Your fingers touched him lightly as he peered down at the flowers with a frown.

Had he done something wrong? Perhaps he’d been wearing the flowers incorrectly or not simply not wearing enough? It wasn’t a difficult adjustment, just different. Azriel wanted to so desperately fit into your world, that as soon as he noticed not just the females but male fairies wearing flowers everyday, he took it upon himself to try.

Try and incorporate those little buds of colour into his very dark wardrobe.

His first attempt, weaving them into his hair caused quite the reaction from his brothers. Rhys and Cassian howling when he came into a meeting one day.

Instead you had started making him jewellery made from flowers, them being a more subtle touch that spoke of the type of mate he had.

As if reading his thoughts, or perhaps he’d pushed it down the bond you spoke quickly. Wanting to reassure him. “You’ve done nothing wrong my love, so far from it in fact…but there was something else I wanted us to do together…”

“Anything.” Azriel blurted out in a hurry, the word swifting off his tongue like a smoke caught on a breeze.

Anything, anything, anything. His shadows sung in unison.

You chuckled lightly to yourself, at how your beautiful mate would do absolutely anything to please you. You couldn’t deny you relished in that a little. The power you held over the oh-so-scary Spymaster. That you could have him crumbling to his knees at just a smile or a please.

Or sometimes nothing at all. Sometimes he would wake up and sink himself down on you, muttering whispers like a prayer as he worshipped you with his words, fingers, tongue, co—.

“Really Azriel? Anything?” The switch in your tone caused goosebumps to rise on azriel’s skin, the sultry melody of your voice sinking into his ears as he watched your lids blink slowly. Your seductive gaze filtering up under your lashes.

He heard the shift, felt the shift, in your tone, body language– everything. Something he was well attuned to now. Body pressing deeper against his, you leaning up on your tiptoes, lips only a hot breath away.

The frenzy was long gone, supposedly. Although there wasn’t a day that went by that Azriel didn’t want you– didn’t have you. He devoured you day and night, sometimes more if he was able to sneak out of work and find you.

In fact, that desire didn’t seem to fade at all. Only grew, and you both just became somewhat better at managing it. Actually that was lie. You were good at managing it, Azriel not so much.

So whenever you would relinquish that control, Azriel couldn’t stop himself. Wouldn’t dream of depriving you.

“Anything for you my butterfly, what did you have in mind?” he purred, his hands moving to your hips to press you closer. Heat flaring up under his skin, as he noticed the change in both your scents.

“Hmm, you see there’s this custom for fairies that we have yet to complete. It’s considered a right of passage…” your own hands had found the collar of his shirt, fingers toying with the material as you glanced away playfully as you spoke. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth lightly, that almost caused Azriel to groan right there and then.

“Tell me more about this custom.”

Tilting your head towards the bed of flowers that consumed the meadow, chewing the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the best words, “For new couples, it is considered tradition to bless the relationship by making love in a flower.”

The notion caught Azriel off guard. His eyes widening ever so slightly, as a faint blush heated his ears. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. Whatever dominating composure he did have, had swiftly slipped away at your words.

“In a flower?,” he managed to stutter out.

You’d never seen him like this before.

Now Azriel wasn’t one to shy away in the bedroom. He wasn’t a novice, far from one in fact. And he’d proved that to you in your early months of the mating frenzy. So this rare display of bewilderment and bashfulness was rather endearing.

“Yes Azriel, I want you to fuck me in a flower. That flower to be specific.” Your slender finger pointed to a pink flower that stood tall beside your willow woven basket on the ground.

Your bluntness caused a stir within him, his gaze darkening slightly as if he finally digested your words.

This was different. Something he hadn’t even known existed. He had been very thorough when doing his research on you, but this little custom hadn’t been in his books.

There was also the factor that your suggestion was very…exposing. Not that Azriel was against being caught, voyeurism was something that had excited him in the past. But perhaps it was that innate carnal desire, the mating frenzy’s grip still tight on him, that Azriel didn’t particularly like the idea of someone seeing you.

“Oh Azriel, there’s no need to be so possessive…there’s no one here.” You teased, a playful glint in your eye as you pulled yourself away from him, hands grazing down his chest and torso lightly before putting some space between you both.

He sometimes hated how transparent he was to you, even without his emotions rippling through the bond. You just always knew. Knew what he was thinking, knew what he was feeling– always.

“Come join me Az,” you purred, this time not allowing your invitation to even be considered for rejection by the possessive male. “I want you to make love to me right there.”

Azriel’s closed the space between you, he wasn’t going to deny his mate.

𓇢𓆸

Whatever previous misgivings he may have had, were completely gone by the time you’d both dwindled and flown into the flower.

The floret you had chosen was pink and peachy, it’s hues resembling the colours that flickered off your wings in the sunlight. Velvety petals stood large and grander than he had ever imagined, stepping inside the flower was like stepping into a room. A small room, perhaps double the size of the large bed you both shared, but plenty of space for what you were wanting from him– needing from him.

The petals existed as tall large pink walls, with a ceiling of the changing sky above. And there was the bed of pollen, cushiony and pillowy beneath him that had him chewing his lip at the mere thought of having you there.

“Y/n-” he went to say your name, pulling his gaze of awe from the flower bed you’d pulled him into, to see you slipping your dress from over your shoulders. The material falling down and pooling at your feet as your wings flickered in a glow.

“Azriel, are you really going to make me wait much longer?” You whispered, a sensual strain on your voice as Azriel acknowledged just how desperate his little mate wanted this– wanted him.

Azriel grunted back a groan as his darkened hazel eyes drunk up your naked figure. Eyes grazing across every curve, just before his shadows seemed to follow suit. Mirroring his gazes with a touch.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Azriel had followed suit, stripping himself of his leathers, his eyes studying you as you stepped closer to him. Each step padding across the fluffy pollen, your hand slowly grazing up your body in a lazy but seductive manner. His shadows were swirling around your figure, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

That alone made his cock twitch.

Your teasing tone from earlier had already caused a stir within him, and seeing your naked form now only hardened his pulsing cock further.

There was also something so intimate about being here with you. In this flower, being in a part of your world, a part that you had so desperately wanted to share with him. Time and time again, Azriel was in disbelief that he was even worthy of being in this space.

You stood directly in front of him, the peaks of your breasts touching his chiselled torso as the mild evening breeze gently brushed through the petals. Your scent catching on the wind, that only confirmed to Azriel what his next move was.

Your eyes widened slightly, as you watched your beautiful mate come down to his knees, his wings slumped down casually behind him. His arms wrapping around your hips as his lips pressed against your lower abdomen, sinking further a trail of kisses down to his desired destination.

He gave you one last look up, that sultry stare under his thick dark lashes before you felt his lips latched onto your core. Your back arched instantly, head rolling back and your wings stretching further behind you.

Azriel groaned at your taste, sweet just like honey– sweet just like you.

For support, his arms quickly hooked under one of your legs, hiking it over his shoulder ensuring you were straddling his face– just the way he liked it. His other hand cupped your ass with a squeeze.

That Illyrian of yours, showing off his strength by supporting you fully with his arm strength alone. And then there was his skill, the way his tongue danced against your slick. Devouring every drop of your wetness. Your fingers instantly connected with his hair, tangling in the wavy midnight locks. You began to grind then, against his lips, pushing light pressure against his tongue that caused a groan to ripple up his throat.

“Azriel…” You breathed, a rosyness and heat filling your cheeks at the position before another whiney moan left your lips. You loved how your mate could quite literally throw you around, hike you over his face, or hold you while he fucked you.

But gods, his tongue was worshipping you, every stroke sending a wave of pleasure that was sending you into a blissful daze.

Azriel’s mouth suckled gently on your clit for a moment, making sure it was swollen and puffy before you felt his lips stretch into a smirk. Gently he placed you down, your feet reaching the plush pollen beneath you. His large calloused hand moved from your thigh up to wrap around your back.

“Fine,” he purred, knowing too well what that whine meant– that he was sending you to ecstasy and your body was about to give in.

He moved you gracefully to lay beneath him. You were sprawled, your back plush against the soft centre of the flower. Pockets of pollen and fairy dust filtering the air around you as your hair stretched out beneath you, they looked just like his tendrils of shadows.

Azriel watched you for a moment, your radiant figure vibrant under the moon's glow. The way your hand reached up for him, fingers grazing the line of his jaw. Your wings spread out below you, beautiful and glowing.

This. This moment right here was it.

He had to take a moment to remember it, treasure it and keep it safe in his mind.

Then, he leaned down. His mouth slotting over yours in a passionate ravenous kiss. Your mouths moved in synchrony with one another as it grew deeper and wetter. You felt his pelvis against you, his erection obvious. You pulled away for a moment, eyes glancing down over the curves of your breasts to see his large leaking cock between you.

“Azriel…stop making me wait,” you whined at the sight, your hips lifting up to rock against him.

His lips pulled into a light smile at your desperation, but he dropped himself down. Finding himself in his favourite place again- between your legs.

He wanted to drink you up first.

𓇢𓆸

Azriel sat against the petal wall, his large heavy wings sprawled out behind him in a slump. You angelically moved to straddle him. Each movement causing a puff of pollen to float in the air, which only amplified the glow of your wings.

Wisps floated in the space around you, illuminated by the moonlight shining from above.

“How long have you been waiting for this, my little butterfly?” Your wetness still covering his lips as he teased, his calloused fingers gripping your ass cheeks gently. Once, twice, he squeezed before he grazed his fingers down your thighs and up again. Then, he slotted his mouth over the peak of your breast. Finding that gentle balance of sucking and nibbling that he knew had you quivering.

“Longer than you would assume-” you gasped at the feeling, eyes rolling back for a moment as you bit back a moan.

“Tell me when.” Azriel almost commanded, one hand weaving its way in your hair to tug at the way your head rolled back. The sight of you fighting bliss as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment shot straight to his member. It clenched and tapped against his abdomen, pre cum stringing from his tip to his torso.

You moved then, hovering slightly over his leaking cock, your soaked wet folds grinding over the head. Mixing your sweetness with his. Your wings twitched as his hot tip rubbed over your sensitive clit, Azriel had already made you finish three times.

Azriel growled out a moan at the touch. So light and teasing.

“Tell me.” He demanded again, this time pushing you down onto him his hands holding your hips as he guided you. The stretch filling you with a pleasure that elicited a sweet moan. Azriel groaned as he felt himself fill you fully. His large thick cock feeling so tight in your heat.

Slowly you began to roll your hips, finding a rhythm you knew he loved. Azriel’s head rolled against the rubbery petal, his pupils wide, mouth agape.

“I’ve been waiting for this since I showed you how to dwindle,” you admitted, referencing a time well over a year ago now.

So much had changed since that time. But one thing had remained the same, you were completely and utterly in love with the Shadowsinger.

Azriel growled, not just at the pleasure you were edging him towards but to the reality you’d both come to terms with since accepting the mating bond. That for years prior you had both been pining for one another.

“You’re telling me we could have been doing this for a year already?” Azriel grunted, his face coming to the curve of your neck as he held you steady, his own hips rolling up to rock into you.

“We’ve been over this Az,” you couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your lips. “You’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened slightly and with a tight grip on your hips, he pushed even deeper.

“I can do that.”

𓇢𓆸

It was Azriel’s wings that were twitching now, yours were tucked away by magic while your mate’s hard chest pressed against your back. His hips rolling into you from behind, as he embraced you tightly, hand squeezing your breast.

Azriel’s face was burrowed into the curve of your neck, he had left many marks there, laying claim. But now all the Illyrian could manage was flurry of moaning whispers and whiney words as you felt him near his release.

“So– mhm– feels so good angel,” he choked out, a guttural moan leaving his swollen mouth from where you’d kissed and sucked so much.

“Azriel–” you breathed out, your hand tangled so tightly in his hair little tiny daisy’s had grown from your magic touch. Weaving their way into his strands.

His rhythm was getting quicker, thrusts shorter but deeper. Sweat was beading off his face onto your neck as he brought his hand round to touch your clit again. That sensitive bud he couldn’t leave alone.

That extra touch was enough.

A sweeping, rolling hot wave moved from your centre, you back arching into your mate as you cried out in pleasure. Your release consuming you as your mate joined. Azriel thrusted deeper into your core, the feeling rippling through his body as he juttered into you.

Ribbons of his hot sticky cum filling you up.

You both laid there for a moment.

Your finger gently untangled from his hair, coming down to rest on his hand that was holding your waist. Your finger slightly grazing over the deep scars set into his flesh.

Catching your breaths, you glanced up at the twinkling stars that basked their light down onto you.

“I love you,” Azriel spoke first, his lips so close to your ear you felt his mouth move against your skin. He pressed a sweet kiss on the curve of your neck, just below your ear. His nose gently brushing up and down your soft skin.

You turned at that, reluctantly pulling yourself off him to get a look at him. His cock softer but still throbbing as it left a trail of his seed down the inside of your thigh. Azriel had a dazed but loving look in his eyes, his hazel gems pulling your lips into a smile. He was sweaty, rosy and hot, and just so beautiful.

Gently your fingers began to fuss over the flowers that had grown from your release, softly pulling them from his hair.

He watched you, his eyes taking in every inch of your expression. Your heated cheeks, the sheen from sweat that just made you glisten more. You were just so beaut–

With that thought Azriel’s cock throbbed again, a moan climbing up his throat as he hastily pulled your hands away to kiss you. Hips pushing against you for more. Bursts of pollen sprung into the air from his sudden movement.

Chuckling through your kiss, you called his name. Really again? It was the fourth round tonight.

“I need you–” Azriel went to defend, only to cut himself off with a violent sneeze.

Bursts of pollen spun round the space, as you watched your mate’s nose scrunch into another sneeze.

“Bless you,” you giggled when he finally stopped, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself above you.

“Blessed I am to have you,” he replied sincerely.

𓇢𓆸

Cassian let out another giant sneeze, causing Rhys and Azriel to give him an unimpressed look from across the table.

“Could you at least use this when you sneeze, I get enough yuck and gunk with the kids” Rhys spoke with annoyance, throwing a silk embroidered handkerchief across to his brother.

Cassian glared back, snatching the midnight material and wiping his nose slightly before stuffing it in his pocket.

“I can’t help it, Azriel stinks!”

Rhys stole a sideways glance at Azriel before returning his attention to Cassian again.

It had been a few days since that night in the meadows, a night Azriel was keen to repeat again. But Cassian was right, he couldn’t seem to shake the pollen.

“I don’t understand, what have you been doing? Rolling around in a field?” Cassian scoffed, folding his arms as he looked across at his brother in question.

Rhys couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin that spread across his face, his hand coming to cover his mouth as he stifled a laugh.

Azriel fought off a smirk. “Something like that Cass,” however it was only a second before Rhys bellowed a laugh. Azriel was quick to follow, with a chuckle.

“Wait! What is it? What am I missing?” Cassian demanded from them both.

“Nothing Cass, don’t worry about it brother,” Azriel replied, his jaw hurting from trying to contain his laughter.

“I swear if this is a sex thing and you’re not telling me I won’t forgive you!!!!”

a/n: the flower sex is finally here!!! yaaaayyyyy hahaha okay so this was actually so hard to write, smut does not come easy but I'm somewhat satisfied with the outcome. Lemme know what you want from these two next! Enjoy my loves <3

forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @marscardigan

Wings tags: @minaethrym

1K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 11 months ago

Text

HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.

౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )

౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.

౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.”

“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“

if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.

if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels.

all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’

just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it.

“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth.

there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.”

ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.

sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend.

but you don’t believe that.

and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces.

“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”

by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes.

once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.”

“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards.

his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel.

sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it.

tonight; his prey is you.

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you.

tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.

kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.

his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.

god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look.

a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold.

except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you.

“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip.

but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth.

“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.”

it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond.

within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family.

“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on. “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”

graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch.

the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?”

sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him.

from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole.

two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.

his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you.

“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.

a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?”

condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:

“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!”

“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.

not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again.

your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom.

ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process.

if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire.

and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life.

“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.

huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.

nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you.

at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time.

finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.

“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there.

even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this.

“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.

“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”

your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”

fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels.

somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact.

“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.

“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?”

sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?”

the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach.

he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone.

“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?”

losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet.

“mph…fuck!”

“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.”

“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you.

your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.

“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes.

ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?”

a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips.

“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.

ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you.

you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.”

“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!”

silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world.

you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies.

you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that.

“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly.

“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”

“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.

sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?”

“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you. “i love you, love you s’much…love you,”

the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm.

“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks.

pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.”

“ryo!”

“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.

still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain.

you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?”

“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.”

“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.”

but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with.

you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.”

and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that.

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oakgreenoak · 10 months ago

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Something I've always found kinda interesting about Red and Green in gameverse is how they turn some of the Stock Shōnen Protagonist/Rival tropes on their heads.

This is really long character analysis of these two and various media counterparts of theirs, so I'm gonna stick it under a cut.

In some ways they fit their roles quite well - aside from the obvious colour associations, you have Red as the hero whose sense of justice is stronger than his sense of self-preservation, and you have Green as the privileged rival who cares about beating Red above all else.

But, if you look at it another way - Green's got the light spiky hair, the hot-headed and boisterous personality, the drive to Get Better And Win. He's designed to read as really open and chipper, yet snarky. Sure, he isn't dumb, but he's arrogant, and he's got something of a one-track mind; the guy finds himself in the middle of a hostage situation because he's just that hellbent on fighting his rival, and does not seem to be thinking about anything else. He's also got a motivation - given how the Professor talks to him in the championship room and supplementary material like his Generations appearance, it's not a stretch to think the reason he's so driven to Get Better And Win is to prove himself to his grandfather. It's shown in later games and supplementary works that he's become somewhat of a mentor as he got older and wiser.

Red, on the other hand, is a quiet loner whose only motivation seems to be to get stronger for the sake of getting stronger. He's level-headed and dark haired, his cap rounding off his edges and obscuring his face. He's heroic, but not really sociable, as evidenced by the fact he spends the Johto games alone on a mountain without having told anyone where he went. He seems isolated in a way that later games' protagonists really don't. He may have always been a step behind Green, but he's always better.

Equally fascinating to me is how other adaptations have changed the base designs around and rewritten personalities to suit different purposes, while still being visually recognisable as counterparts to their game-selves.

For example: Red and Green's counterparts in Special slot WAY more neatly into their stock shōnen roles, with Red as the boisterous hero and Green as the broody rival, and it's reflected in their new designs.

Red's hair becomes spiky to reflect his more excitable nature. His hat, in turn, never obscures his face; it's always either tilted back to accommodate his fringe or turned backwards. Green's hair, on the other hand, is not quite as spiked upwards and instead falls into his face, frequently obscuring his far eye in the same way game!Red's hat does.

And then, of course, the anime balanced them in a totally different direction.

Instead of scrapping Green's personality wholecloth, it's become exaggerated in Gary. He's not the broody antihero rival, he's the arrogant, privileged, better-than-you rival. He's always ten steps ahead of Ash, always pisses him off, and is ALWAYS better until the end of his run. The anime also emphasises his intelligence far more, with him doing things like rattling off dex info and the speed of light in mph off the top of his head, to further contrast him with Ash.

Ash, who is of course THE shōnen protagonist. He's dumb, but determined, and always ready to help people in need. Unlike game!Red, the power of friendship (with more than just pokémon) is central to him; any given season of the show is defined as much if not moreso by his travelling companions and interpersonal relationships as it is by whatever he's actually doing.

It's funny to me, though, how most adaptations seem to find the fact that gameverse Red and Green have swapped some stock roles as something to fix. Even Origins, which is probably the closest a high-profile adaption has come to game-accurate, made its version of Red louder and more standard-hero-esque.

I'm not knocking any of these things, of course, just observing. I adore both Special and anipoke. I just think that the way the game characters are written could lead to some interesting dynamics were it to be explored more.

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eternalguk · 2 months ago

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Our Quiet Christmas | jjk. (M)

You are my home, my home for all seasons.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : After a whirlwind year of schedules, chaos, and never-ending to-do lists, Jungkook whisks you and your daughter away to a secluded cabin for a much-needed Christmas getaway. With snowflakes falling outside and the crackling fire keeping the cold at bay, it’s the perfect chance to slow down and soak in the love that makes your little family so special… But Jungkook has more than just cosy movie nights and snowman-building in mind—he’s set on expanding your family, and he’s not exactly subtle about it. Between his playful charm, heartfelt confessions, and stolen kisses by the fire, it’s hard to resist the idea of giving Areum the sibling Jungkook can’t stop dreaming about.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, dad!jungkook x mom!reader, marriage au, comfort au, pwp

↠ Word count : 9.3K

↠ Warnings : making out, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), riding, missionary, impregnation!kink, dirty talking, begging, dom!jungkook, sub!reader (think that’s all)

↠ A/n : hi there ; merry Christmas Eve 🎄! I hope you’re all having a restful break and enjoying the holiday period 🫶🏻 I present you soft dad!Jungkook being absolutely smitten with his family. Snowy vibes, fireplace cuddles, Jungkook being charmingly relentless about baby number two, and you trying (and failing) to resist his puppy eyes. Feedback is always appreciated & happy reading 🦢!

↠ Song : Snowman by Sia

Winter had arrived. An icy serenade surrounds you yet the warmth of love is all you feel. An old Christmas movie plays in the background and the smell of home-baking permeates the air.

Comfort, peace and solace is all you feel right now.

“This years going to be different, I can feel it in my bones.”

“Guk, baby you say that every year.”

“No no, I’m sure about this one, you see I can feel it-

“In my bones.” You both say in sync, causing Jungkook to chuckle as he brings his hand to your jaw, moving your face towards him so he can kiss you.

His lips join yours in a soft, gentle manner.

Years have passed, but every time you and Jungkook kiss, you swear you feel the same butterflies that you felt when he kissed you for the first time after your third date outside the art gallery.

Magical. That’s how you’d describe kissing Jungkook.

His lips were warm, soft, and when they touched yours, there was no rush. Jungkook deepens the kiss ever so slightly, letting the pressure build with gentle insistence, the rhythm of the kiss calm but full of intention.

The two of you are lying on the couch, legs entangled under your daughter's blanket as you watch the fireplace emit sparks of warmth, bathing the wooden interior with golden hues.

“Eomma, appa!” A voice calls out, full of pride.

Areum.

4 years old and a bundle of joy. Your bundle of joy.

“Look, I fixed it!” Areum’s tiny and soft voice breaks the quiet. She jolts into the room, clutching the wooden reindeer ornament Jungkook had given her to paint earlier this morning. It had been her project all afternoon.

The reindeer was, to put it kindly, a riot of colour - blobs of red, green, and yellow mixing like a child’s dream of Christmas. One of its legs appeared a bit wobbly, but it stood proud, just like Areum did right now, her rosy cheeks flushed with pride.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle, sitting up slightly as the blanket slips down his chest. “Wow, princess, you really did that all by yourself, mhm?”

“Mm-hm!” Areum nodded vigorously, imitating her father. Her dark hair bounces as she hurries to place it on the small mantle above the fireplace.

You smile softly at your princess, watching Jungkook’s eyes glisten with adoration like a knight in shining armour. His role as a father suits him more than you could have ever imagined. The playful glint in his gaze softens into something so reverent every time Areum enters the room.

You know confidently that she is his whole world, as much as she is yours.

“Appa, is it good?” Areum’s wide eyes sought his approval.

“Good? Baby, it’s perfect, just like you,” Jungkook says warmly, reaching for her hand and pulling her into his lap. She lets out a giggle as he peppers her face with kisses, her tiny hands swatting at his cheeks playfully.

“Go easy on her, Guk,” you tease, leaning your head against the armrest of the couch as you tuck your legs under the blanket again.

Jungkook grins at you, Areum still squirming in his arms. “I’ll stop when she says ‘my appa is the best.’”

“My appa is the best!” she squeals, breaking into a fit of laughter and reaching to kiss her fathers cheek.

A Mini Jungkook indeed.

Satisfied, Jungkook sets her down gently, watching as she scurries off to grab another decoration. He leans back on the couch with a contented sigh, the blanket once again draped over the two of you.

“You know,” he begins, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, “this is exactly what I needed. Just us. No schedules, no phone calls, no distractions.” His thumb traces the curve of your cheekbone as his chocolate brown eyes hold yours, the firelight dancing in its depth.

“I know,” you softly murmur, running your fingers over the back of his hand. “This year has been so… relentless? It’s nice to just breathe and soak in the silence.”

You both sigh, snuggling into one another despite being as close as humanly possible.

“Except when Areum remembers she has parents,” you chuckle, shaking your head in laughter as you see her ornament.

Jungkook’s lips twitch into a small smile. “Speaking of Areum interrupting our silence…” He shifts even closer, his voice dropping to that low tone he uses when he wants to get under your skin. “I’ve been thinking about adding another little someone to, you know, interrupt our quiet moments. What do you think?”

Your eyes flicker to him, your breath hitching at his boldness. You contemplate playing aloof, but your husband’s abruptness stops you. “Are you serious?”

Jungkook nods, the grin on his face unmistakably cheeky now. “I mean, we’ve been talking about it for a while. And look at Areum - she’s so ready to be a big sister. Aren’t you, princess?” he called out to her.

Areum looked up from where she was arranging ornaments on the small tree by the window, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Hmm, Appa?”

“Are you ready to be a big sister, my angel?” Jungkook questions her tenderly.

“What’s that?” Areum queries, curiosity etched into every feature of her face. “How do we get one?”

You stifle a laugh, your cheeks warming. “Don’t confuse her, Guk.”

But Jungkook was undeterred, his hand sliding under your sweater to rest on your hip beneath the blanket. “Just think about it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Another little one resting here with us next year. Maybe a boy this time… although I wouldn’t mind another girl if she’s as perfect as Areum.”

Your heart clenches at the thought. You could picture it so clearly—a tiny baby, smaller than a bag of sugar from the grocers, cradled in Jungkook’s strong arms, Areum’s careful hands reaching out to stroke a soft cheek and your hand clutching your heart at the scene. The cabin, filled with even more love than it already is.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” you say, turning to press a peck to his jaw.

“I’m just optimistic,” Jungkook counters, his dimples showing as he smiles down at you. “And we’d be so good at it, don’t you think?”

Before you could answer, Areum runs back over, throwing herself between the two of you with an exuberant laugh. “I found the star!”

The star.

Jungkook had promised Areum that when she finds his hidden star, he will help her put it on top of the already full tree. The things this man did to get a quiet moment with you…

“Eomma, can we put it on top of the tree now?”

“Of-”

“Of course, princess,” Jungkook interrupts, sweeping her up effortlessly and carrying her to the tree.

You laugh at the father daughter interaction. Maybe you did need another baby to keep you company.

You watch the two from the couch, your chest swelling with gratitude. The year had been chaotic to say the least, but this - this simple, intimate moment right here - was everything you’d ever yearned for.

Jungkook catches your eye as he lifts Areum high enough to place the star on the tree. He gives you a knowing wink, his silent promise clear: there was more love to come.

And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to embrace it.

After the tree was decorated to Areum’s satisfaction - every inch of its branches covered in her creative flair - Jungkook carried her upstairs to put her to bed.

You decided to stay downstairs, tidying up the remnants of her crafting supplies and rearranging a few of the more precariously placed ornaments. The cabin is even quieter now, save for the occasional creak of the wooden beams and the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice drifting from the upper floor.

He’s singing to her.

It’s something Jungkook has done since Areum was a baby, and the sound of his melodic voice humming a lullaby never fails to warm your heart.

You lean against the doorway, pausing to listen. His voice, smooth and honeyed, wraps around the melody like a cosy blanket.

You carry on clearing Areum’s toys away, wanting the place to be nice and tidy before Christmas Eve tomorrow.

When Jungkook finally comes downstairs, steps light and careful, his eyes meet yours. “Out like a light,” he whispers softly as though he’s scared to wake her, running a hand through his messy hair. “I barely made it through the second verse.”

“She always loves when you sing to her,” you pout, crossing the room to take his hand. “Just like me.”

Jungkook pulls you into his arms, your cheek pressing against his welcoming chest. “I think I’ve got some magic left tonight,” he whispers in a low voice, his lips brushing your hairline.

“Oh, do you now?” you taunt, tilting your head to look up at him. “What tricks you gonna show me?”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to capture your lips. But, before he could do so, something catches both of your attention. A faint tapping sound comes from the large bay window at the front of the cabin.

Curious, you turn towards it, only to see that snow has begun falling in earnest. The flakes were large and fluffy, blanketing the world outside in pristine white.

Jungkook steps out of your embrace, walking to the window to get a better view.

“Jagi, it’s a Christmas miracle.”

“I can’t believe it,” you run to the window, happiness like that of a child.

Jungkook stands there for a moment, his broad shoulders outlined by the golden glow of the fireplace, before turning to you with a mischievous grin. “It’s perfect. Let’s go.”

“What? Now?” you exclaim, your brows lifting in surprise. “You’re fucking crazy!”

“Why not?” he said, holding out his hand. “It’s just us, remember? No one’s here to tell us we can’t.” Jungkook pulls a funny face which you can’t help but laugh at.

You hesitate for a second, but the gleam in his eye is irresistible. Laughing, you grab your woolly coat and leather knee-high boots, following him outside into the magical winter night.

The air is crisp and sharp, biting at your cheeks and nose, but the snow truly made everything feel softer, quieter, as if the world had been wrapped in cotton wool and there was no way out. The two of you stand on the small porch, the snow crunching underfoot, watching as the forest rapidly around you transforms into a winter wonderland.

Jungkook turns to you, his eyes sparkling. “Dance with me, jagi.”

You laugh again, shivering as he grabs your hands. “There’s no music, you idiot!”

“Sure there is,” he replies swiftly, stepping closer. “Listen. The wind, the snow, the quiet. That’s all the music we need.”

Jungkook begins to sway with you, his hands warm as they enveloped yours. The two of you move slowly, his body sheltering you from the cold. Snowflakes are caught in his dark hair, his nose reddening from the chill, but he looks as handsome as ever, his smile lighting up the night.

“This is what I meant,” he hushly says, voice low and intimate. “Just us. No rush, no noise. Just you, me, our princess, and moments like this.”

You move forward to rest your head on his chest, letting the quiet envelop you both in a warm hug. Jungkook’s arms tighten around you, his chin coming to rest on your head.

“I think you might be right,” you whisper, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

“Right? About what, love?”

“This year being different. It already feels like it is.”

Jungkook pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes softening. “It’s different because we make it that way,” he reassures you, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “And we will keep making it better. Every year, every moment. Together.”

The snow continues to fall, and for a while, you simply stand there, swaying in the quietude, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world around you disappears, leaving only the two of you and the love that made every moment worth remembering.

Once the cold began to creep through your coats and boots, Jungkook insisted on pulling you back inside, laughing at the way your teeth chattered as you kicked off your snow-covered boots.

You now stand in the living area, shivering like a child in a cold cradle.

“I told you it was too cold,” you huff, trying to warm your hands with your breath.

“And I told you it was worth it,” he nonchalantly replies, tugging off his gloves and taking your icy hands in his. His larger palms envelop yours, the heat of his touch sending a shiver up your spine. “Better, baby?”

You nod, letting him guide you back to the couch.

Jungkook grabs the blanket you were sharing earlier, draping it over the two of you as you snuggle close, your body seeking the warmth radiating from him.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. Jungkook reaches for the mug of hot chocolate he’d abandoned earlier, holding it to your lips for you to sip. The sweetness and warmth spread through your chest, and you sighed in contentment, leaning back into his embrace, inhaling his woody scent.

For a while, neither of you speak, simply basking in the serene silence and your comforting presence. Jungkook rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms circling your waist as you both gazed at the fire.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly, breaking the silence.

“Of course, babe.”

Jungkook hesitates for a moment, his thumb absently tracing circles on your hip. “I meant what I said earlier, you know? About wanting another baby.”

You turn slightly to look at him, your brow lifting in curiosity. “Really?”

“Yes,” he says confidently, his eyes soft but steady. “Areum’s growing up so fast, and every time I see her smile or hear her laugh, I think… we made that. You and me. She’s this perfect little person, and I can’t help but think how amazing it would be to do it all over again.”

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it impossible to brush off the idea. You’d talked about it in passing before, but the way he spoke now felt different.

Earnest. Hopeful. Loving.

“You make it sound so easy,” you chuckle, though your voice was softer than you intended.

Jungkook snickers, his breath warm against your neck. “I know it’s not. The sleepless nights, the mess, the chaos… but it’s worth it, isn’t it? Every bit of it. I mean, just look at what we’ve already got.”

Your gaze flicks to the staircase, where you could just imagine Areum fast asleep in her bed, her little chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm.

“You’re right,” you admit, turning back to him. “She’s the best thing we’ve ever done.”

Jungkook leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “And we can do it again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If you’re ready, of course.”

Your eyes meet his, searching them for any trace of doubt, but there is none. Only love and unwavering belief in the life you’d built together.

A soft smile tugs at your lips. “Maybe,” you say, your tone playful but your heart already leaning towards yes. “We’ll see.”

Jungkook’s grin widens, the dimple in his cheek making an appearance. “That’s not a no.”

Jungkook’s persistence was truly admirable.

“It’s not a yes either,” you counter, however, you can’t stop yourself from laughing as Jungkook leans in to kiss you, his hands sliding up your back.

“You’ll come around,” he mutters against your lips, voice low and teasing. “You always do.”

“Don’t get ahead yourself, mister,” you chuckle as you move to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The fire crackles before you, its warmth matching the heat building between you.

Jungkook’s kisses deepen, his hands tighten their hold on you, and for a moment, the world fades again, leaving only the two of you in your little cocoon of love.

But then a soft cry breaks the moment, drifting down from upstairs.

“Eomma? Appa?”

You both freeze before pulling back with identical smiles, your foreheads pressed together.

“Think she had a dream,” Jungkook utters, his voice laced with affection.

“Your turn,” you whisper, nudging him gently.

Your husband groans in mock protest but stands fairly quickly, tossing the blanket aside. “Fine. But you owe me.”

“I think we’re even,” you tease, watching as he heads towards the stairs.

Jungkook pauses halfway up, turning to look back at you with a smile so warm it rivals the firelight. “We’ll pick up this conversation later.”

You laugh softly, pulling the blanket tighter around you as he disappears upstairs. The fire continues its steady crackle, and you lean back into the couch, your heart full as you listen to Jungkook’s soft voice comforting Areum.

It was in moments like this - simple, unassuming, and utterly filled with love - that you realised you’d already found everything you’d ever wanted. And maybe, just maybe, you were ready to grow it a little more.

The cabin is quiet again.

You hear Jungkook’s footsteps, soft, as he makes his way back down the stairs. Areum must have settled quite quickly.

You are still curled up on the couch, the firelight painting your skin with a warm glow as you scroll through TikTok.

Jungkook pauses at the end of the staircase, leaning on the banister for a moment, his eyes fixated on you.

“You’re staring,” you sing, your lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Can’t help it,” he replies, pushing off the banister and crossing the room to sit beside you. “I have the most beautiful wife in the world.”

“You always know what to say,” you taunt, resting your head against his shoulder as he pulls the blanket back over both of you.

His arm comes around you, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. “What can I say? I’m a man in love.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, scrolling through your FYP as the fire crackles softly, a contrast to the snow that continues to fall outside.

Jungkook’s hand never stops moving, his touch soothing and intimate, as if he needed to keep that connection to you at all times.

“You know,” he interrupts the silence eventually, voice deep, “when I first thought about taking you and Areum out here, I wasn’t sure if I’d done the right thing. It’s so… quiet.”

“Mhm?” You urge him to continue.

“Another part of me felt bad for leaving our family, but…” Jungkook pauses, trying to find the right words.

“It was exactly what we needed,” you finish his sentence for him, softly, nuzzling into his side.

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t realise how much I needed it too. Being here with you, with her… it’s like everything else has immediately faded. All that stress, the busyness, it just doesn’t matter anymore.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. “Guk, you have worked so so hard for us. For everything. You deserve this time just as much as we do.”

Jungkook knew in that moment that you were his comforting love. The fort that comes in advance of danger. His protection before the need for that even arises. For you, he was the softest thing in the universe. There was a solace in feeling the goodness of your soul. You always carried a gentle certainty that Jungkook was born to absorb and accept love.

People had always told you, you were lucky to have Jungkook. But Jungkook knew, he was luckier to have you.

He meets your gaze, his dark eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but understood. “You make it all worth it,” he says in simple words.

You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. His lips linger on yours, slow and tender, as if he were trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that single moment.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. “I know I keep bringing it up, but… I really can’t stop thinking about another baby,” he whispers, his voice tinged with both hope and hesitation.

You laughed tenderly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

“Only because I know how good we’d be at it,” he argues, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “And if I’m being honest, I’m kind of selfish. I want more moments like this. More little hands to hold, more giggles filling the house. And more time with you, building this life together.”

Your heart clench’s at his words, the integrity in his tone making it impossible to tease him this time.

“What if I said yes?” you ask quietly, your voice barely audible over the fire’s crackle. A newfound shyness came over you.

Jungkook’s breath hitches, his eyes widening slightly as he pulls back to look at you fully. “You mean it?”

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’ve been thinking about it too. And you’re right… Areum deserves to have a little partner in crime. And I…” You trail off, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “I think I’d love to see you holding another baby of ours. To see our family grow.”

The smile that spread across Jungkook’s face was brighter than anything you’d seen all night. He let out a breathless laugh, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispers against your hair.

You cackle, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Jungkook pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You’re incredible, you know that? I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, swatting lightly at his chest. “If anything, I don’t deserve you.”

“We’ll just have to agree that we’re both pretty lucky,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you again.

This time, the kiss is deeper, filled with promises and excitement for the future you’d just agreed to build together. The fire burns low in the hearth, and outside, the snow continues to fall, blanketing the cabin in a hush that seemed to echo the love you shared.

When you finally pull apart, you settle back into his arms, the blanket cocooning you both.

“So… when should we start?” Jungkook asks, his voice light but laced with mischief.

You laugh, swatting at his chest again. “How about we enjoy the rest of this quiet night first?”

“Fair enough,” he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As the fire’s glow dims and the snow piled high outside, you close your eyes, the steady rhythm of Jungkook’s heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful slumber. And though the night was quiet, your dreams were filled with the sound of tiny feet and laughter, and the warmth of a love that felt boundless.

It was now 1AM.

The two of you were awake again.

The cabin was silent save for the soft crackle of the flames. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in the same blanket that had been your haven all evening, Jungkook’s arm draped lazily across your shoulders.

His fingers trailed absent patterns along your arm, the touch light but deliberate, sending tiny shivers over your skin. You lean further into him, sighing in contentment as your head rests against his chest.

“I love this,” you say softly, the words barely audible over the quiet.

“This?” he questions, his voice low and warm.

“Us,” you clarify, tilting your head to look up at him. “This moment. It feels… perfect.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk into a small, almost boyish smile as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “It’s because we are perfect,” he teases, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity.

You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. “Confident?”

“Always,” he replies, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger against your cheek, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

The mood shifts subtly but unmistakably.

Jungkook’s hand slides down, his fingers grazing your jaw before settling at the nape of your neck. He leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, his other hand slipping around your waist to pull you inevitably closer.

The blanket falls slightly as you shift to become more comfortable in your husband’s embrace. Your hands find their way to Jungkook’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms. He groans softly against your plush lips, his fingers tightening their hold as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss further.

Kissing Jungkook always felt so poetic. In the emotions of his kisses, you could understand a language so passionate, it transcended the works of the greatest poets combined.

When your husband finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing slightly uneven. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admits, his voice husky and low.

“Thinking about what?” you ask, though the heat in his gaze is leaving very little room for doubt.

Jungkook grins, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “About how much I want you.” He kisses your forehead.

“About how much I love you.” He kisses the tip of your nose.

“And…” He pauses, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “About how nice it would be to give Areum a little sibling.” Jungkook leans forward to capture your lips again, but you swiftly pull him back by his luscious brown tresses.

Your eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. “Jungkook!” you laugh, swatting lightly at his chest, your cheeks warming at the suggestion.

“What?” he asks innocently, though his grin only widens. “I’m just reminding you that you said yes.”

“I-“

He cut you off with another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate. More urgent.

And when he pulls back, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe I can convince you tonight.”

Your heart races at the low, teasing tone of his voice. His hand slips beneath the hem of your sweater, his touch warm against your skin as he traces light patterns along your back.

“You’re crazy,” you whine, though your voice lacked any real protest.

Jungkook chuckles, his breath hot against your neck. “Only because I know how amazing we are together. And because I love the idea of us growing our little family.”

The sincerity in his words melts any resistance you might have had, and you find yourself leaning into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“You wanna start trying already?” you ask softly, your lips brushing against his.

Jungkook pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with excitement and love. “Well, we shouldn’t waste any time.”

You laugh, your heart full as you let him guide you closer, his lips capturing yours once again. The fire burns low, its warmth nothing compared to the heat between the two of you.

“Let’s head upstairs,” Jungkook says as he pulls away. “I want to do this properly.”

You eyes soften as you nod. Preparing yourself for the night to stretch on, knowing it will be filled with whispered promises of love and … filth.

The bedroom is dimly lit, the only light coming from the crackling fire in the hearth and the glow of the Christmas lights strung around the bed. The air is warm, thanks to the fireplace, and is scented with the faint aroma of pine and cinnamon.

Jungkook sets you down on the ground gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he steps back to admire you. Your red sweater and matching skirt make you look like a holiday gift, and he couldn’t wait to unwrap you.

“Take it off,” he commands, voice calm yet husky. “Slowly.”

Your cheeks warm, but you obey, your hands moving to the hem of your sweater. You peel it off inch by inch, revealing the lacy black bra underneath.

The universe was on your side.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he watches you. When you finally toss the sweater aside, his hands are on you again, thumbs brushing over the lace before slipping beneath it to cup your breasts.

“You look beautiful,” he declares, voice low yet you are still able to sense that it is thick with emotion.

A smile tugs at your lips as you glance up at him. Jungkook moves closer, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a velvety caress that makes your skin prickle with heat.

You laugh softly, leaning into him. “It feels like our first time all over again,” you say, heart racing.

“Does it?” he asks, although you know he isn’t looking for an answer.

The air between you and your husband is thick.

Thick with anticipation.

The low flicker of the fire casts a light shadow across his features as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world. One hand rests on your hip, his grip firm yet gentle, as he thumbs at the band of your lacy underwear. The other is wrapped around your waist, holding you close as though he’s scared you’re about to get away.

You gaze at one another with eyes full of love.

Jungkook is a drug. Your drug. One touch from him and the intoxication is instant. It always has been.

This man could tell you to do anything, absolutely anything, and that is exactly what you would do. His gaze, his scent, his everything sends you into a heady trance.

You guide his digits to your centre, your sticky core waiting for him. Jungkook rubs your soaked lacy underwear, groaning deeply as he takes in your wetness.

“And I thought it was just me who was excited,” he whispers in an indulging tone, voice rich with lust as he draws you closer with his free hand, lips finding yours. “Look at you, angel, you’re fucking drenched.”

You respond by pulling him closer by dark tendrils, capturing his lips against yours. The kiss starts slow, tender, but it doesn’t take long for the heat to intensify.

Jungkook’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, angling your face as his lips move against yours, each kiss growing deeper, hungrier. Your fingers tangle in his soft strands as you tug gently, earning another low groan from your husband, vibrating against your mouth.

“Jungkook…” you whine between kisses, your body starting to need more.

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on your waist, lifting you effortlessly like you weigh absolutely nothing. Jungkook carries you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours, and when your back hits the mattress, the world tilts slightly.

You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another. And then? Then Jungkook is all business.

Pulling your underwear off, he begins by kissing from your toes upward, slowly, his hands on your legs, always inching just a little higher than the kisses he plants.

Your back arches in anticipation, knowing where his fingers will soon reach. And as he does, your head rocks against the fluffy pillow, the first moan escaping your lips.

Jungkook hovers above you, one knee pressing into the bed. His dark hair falls forward, brushing against your skin as he leans in, his lips trailing from your mouth to your jawline and then lower, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your neck before pulling back slightly.

The mattress dips beneath his weight as he shifts, his free hand bracing beside your head. You feel the tension in his body - the strength in his arms as he hovers above you, the control in every deliberate movement - and it’s intoxicating.

Your hands roam down his back, tracing the lean muscles. The firelight casts golden shadows across his bare chest, highlighting every dip and curve, and for a moment, all you can do is stare.

He smirks, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips brushing yours as he teases, “See something you like?”

You roll your eyes, but your laughter catches in your throat as his mouth claims yours again. The kiss is hotter, slower, more deliberate, pulling you further under his spell. His hands explore every inch of you, mapping your body as though he’s determined to remember every detail, his touch setting your nerves alight.

“You’re irresistible,” Jungkook groans, the sound itself sending you into a deep spiral.

He bends down, his mouth capturing one nipple through the fabric, sucking gently until you arch into him, another moan escaping your lips, louder this time. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavishes attention on your other breast, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive peak.

Arching into him, you massage his scalp and moan pleasurably as he prods at your nipple with his scandalous tongue. He fondles your other breast, kneading it which has you sighing out in bliss.

“Oh fuck, I love your tongue,” you whine gratifyingly whilst he continues his soft assault on your breast, sucking and tugging at your nipples lewdly. Your fingers inch further into his hair when you feel him jut his tongue out, licking around the soft area.

Jungkook moves to place kisses between the valley of your breasts, making his way further down your sexy body, still fondling your breasts delightly. You arch further into him, half-lidded gaze peering down at him, massaging his scalp whilst he perfectly nips at your smooth skin, ascending you to cloud nine.

Sighing out in sheer ecstasy, you tug Jungkook closer to you. His hand canvases down your body, cupping your soaked sex in his palm.

You let out a scandalised gasp, gut filling with heat.

“Always so fucking wet, princess,” Jungkook groans as he glides his two fingers through your tight cunt. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, breathing heavily and Jungkook revels in each sultry sound that leaves your pretty mouth.

“J-just for you,” you manage to whimper out as his fingers skim around your battered mound. Jungkook begins to push your legs apart and releases a satisfied hum when he sees how soaked your cunt is for him.

Jungkook pulls back, winking at you before moving forward to kiss down your body. To where you need him most. His lips adorn every inch of your body and your core ignites when you feel him reach closer to your already naked sex.

Jungkook’s eyes locking onto yours as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The garment falls, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. His hands roam over your body, tracing every curve, every dip, while his lips replaced his fingers, kissing and nibbling along your collarbone, your shoulders, your throat.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your skin, his voice vibrating through you. “All mine.”

You shudder from the cold, now completely naked, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he hovers above you. His fingers trail down your stomach, stopping just above where you need him most. He glances up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief before his fingers dipped lower, sliding through your folds.

“So wet for me,” he groans, voice dripping with possessiveness. He circles your clit once, twice, before delving inside you, his fingers thrusting deep as he continues to stroke your most sensitive spot.

Jungkook’s thumb was gentle yet insistent as he traced lazy circles around your clit, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You lay back against the plush pillows, your breath hitching as he leans over you, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. His lips brushes against your ear, his voice low and husky as he whispers, “Everyone will see you swollen and know I’ve fucked you.”

You moan, unable to form words as his fingers dip inside you, teasingly slow at first.

Jungkook watches your face intently, his thumb pressing against your clit in a rhythm that has you arching off the bed. “You’re so hot,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with approval. “So ready to be bred.”

His fingers move faster now, scissoring inside you while his mouth trailed kisses along your jawline. “Tell me,” he demands, his tone commanding yet laced with tenderness. “Tell me how much you want this.”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hips instinctively meeting his hand. “I want… I want you so bad.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Not just me,” he corrected, his voice growing deeper. “You want our baby. Tell me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as the weight of his words settles over you. “I do,” you admit, voice trembling. “I want - oh, God ; I want everything with you.”

Jungkook’s eyes are coloured with a shade of satisfaction, as he adds in another one of his delicious fingers, satiating your ache for more.

You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure seeps through you. Jungkook’s free hand moves to your plump ass, squeezing roughly as his fingers pick up speed, plunging in and out of you with increasing urgency.

“Tell me,” he demands, his voice gruff. "Tell me who’s got you soaked."

“You,” you croon, your voice breaking. “I’m wet for you.”

At your words, he stands, lifting you once again and placing you on the edge of the mattress. His fingers leave your aching core, and you only hope it is replaced by his mouth, the image of his tongue lapping at you with fervor making you shudder.

You cry out his name, your back arching as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

Jungkook moves his head in front of your cunt, breathing against it deeply, knowing the sensation of his hot breath would spur you on further.

And it certainly does.

You jerk rapidly as Jungkook places a kiss to your clit and your insides constrict, anticipating his next ministration.

“Can I eat you out?,” Jungkook huskily asks. He knows how tired you must be, so he ensures he’s safe to go ahead. Your chest swells with butterflies, in awe of how caring your husband is.

You move forward and cup his cheek, urging him to look towards you. You smile at him brightly, nodding your head and place a quick peck against his swollen lips.

Jungkook is quick to get back in position, paying attention to your leaking cunt again. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, letting them rest there daintily. You lean back, palms planted on the mattress beneath you as you savour the view before you.

Your sexy husband stands before you with his exposed, tanned and Apollo-sculpted body ready to devour you whole. Jungkook breathes against your folds and you quiver with arousal. His hands massage the inside of your thighs, calming your anticipation.

“My wife’s so pretty,” he whispers before moving to press a gentle kiss on your clit. You shudder at the sensitivity, bucking your hips into his face, yearning for more.

You run your fingers through his dark tresses, tightening your grip on his scalp. “Jungkook, pleasee,” you whine, arching into him more in the hopes that he’ll provide you with some form of relief.

“Patience baby,” Jungkook murmurs before jutting out the tip of his tongue and lightly tracing your nether lips. You squirm, moaning his name shamelessly and uttering soft pleas as you mentally pine for more contact from his skillful tongue. Jungkook feels more turned on as he hears you become more needy despite him not having done very much.

“I’ve got you, princess,” he growls before licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He latches onto your quivering cunt, making out with it and sucking on your labia. Jungkook buries himself further as he gathers your slickness on his tongue. You mewl at the euphoric sensation his tongue supplies and he provides you with no mercy as he eats you up with his masterful tongue.

Bucking your hips closer to his face, you wordlessly beg for more and Jungkook abides almost immediately, lapping at your folds like a starved man. He flattens his tongue against your cunt, generously sucking on the pulsing bud. Jungkook groans at the sweet flavour of your juices that has you reeling for more.

He repeatedly licks up your slit shamelessly, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his own neck with no care in the world. He basks in the mess between your legs, chest swelling with pride as he realises it’s all for him. Only him.

“Fuck,” he moans into your cunt, “your pussy always tastes so good. Fucking missed this,” he says as if he hadn’t woken you up by eating you out this morning.

His large, tattooed hands fail to stay still. They move from holding your thighs apart to having a tight grip on your ass, pulling you further into him.

“L-love seeing your face between my thighs,” you manage to voice weakly.

“I know you do,” Jungkook replies whilst bringing his thumb to rub against your aching clit. You rut your hips in his face, head falling back as the pleasure washes over you.

“Jungkoook, fuckk.”

He buries himself closer into your pulsing folds, nose burrowed deep within. Your hips develop a mind of their own and you begin to grind against his face, practically riding it. Jungkook hums satisfyingly as he moves his hands to rest on your ass again. He probes you forward and rocks your hips back and forth against his face making you grab a fistful of his hair, earning a slight hiss from him.

His hooded eyes meet your own and you send a lazy smirk his way as you rut your hips against his face. Your wetness from riding his nose, chin and tongue glistens on his skin which somehow turns you on more.

“Ahh shit,” you cry out, internally thanking the Heavens above that your cabin is located in a secluded area. You only hope Areum doesn’t wake up.

Whilst you continue to ride his face, Jungkook licks up and around your folds ravenously and his fingers bore into the meat of your ass.

He angles himself better and secures his lips down around your mound, dragging his tongue around until he latches onto your sensitive clit again. You moan lewdly and lurch when you feel Jungkook press his devious tongue against your throbbing bud.

“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, riding his face at a faster pace and your grip on his hair becoming tighter. Jungkook suckles your clit, tongue running through your folds, providing you with eons of paradisiacal pleasure. He shoves his face deeper into your cunt, violently capturing it with his plush, swollen lips and his grasp on you becomes harder.

You feel him smirk against you before he brings those bunny teeth of his and bites down on your clit. Your body jolts at the impact, but still manages to send hot, orgasmic spikes of arousal through your veins.

“Oh fuck,” you sharply moan, the need to come undone too prominent now.

“Come for me, angel,” he coos at you, hands moving to soothe your lower back. His dulcet voice does it for you and you feel your orgasm wash over you vigorously. Your hips grind against your husband's stupidly handsome face and he laps at your palpitating pussy.

Your mind spins and stomach bubbles as you come down from your high. Jungkook continues his assault, lapping at thecum that stains your cunt before he pulls away. You meet his desperate eyes, shimmering lips and a scandalous grin as he pants harshly.

You beckon him to you eagerly, hands growing taxed as you reach for his sweaty neck and pull him in for an all too chaste kiss. Smothering your mouth with his, you groan as you taste your essence on his enticing lips.

You devour his mouth, nibbling at his plump lower lip.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

You chuckle at him simping over you once again, tugging him closer. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and continue to mouth at him languidly, tongues tangling together.

Jungkook smiles against you, gushing at your sudden boldness. He runs his hand up and down the expanse of your back, gleefully continuing to make out with you.

But he isn’t done yet. When you were teetering on the brink, Jungkook pulls away, standing and stripping off his own clothes in seconds. His cock is hard and throbbing, and you can’t help but reach for him, your fingers curling around his length.

“Not yet,” he growls, stepping back. Jungkook positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance.

“Look at me,” he commands, his eyes boring into yours. “I’m fucking you full of my cum tonight.”

With that, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he claims you, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. Every thrust is deliberate, every movement calculated to bring you both to the edge.

Jungkook’s hands grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, voice ragged. “Always so tight and ready for her husband.”

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his slim waist as you meet every thrust, your bodies moving as one. The tension between you is electric, crackling in the air as you both race toward release.

Then, without warning, Jungkook pulls out, flipping you onto your back and positioning himself between your legs once more. He grabs hold of your hips, lifting you slightly before slamming back into you.

“Ride me,” he demands with his sultry voice.

“Jungkook!” you cry, your hips rising to meet his, your body instinctively obeying his command. You shift your position, your core contracting around him as you take control, riding him with everything you had.

“Jungkook, you fuck me so good.”

“I know baby, I know,” he says, almost condescendingly.

Jungkook’s hands grips your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he guides you with precision. You feel the intensity of his desire in every movement, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Ride your husband’s dick like you mean it.” His voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine.

You obey without hesitation, rising slowly at first, the sensation of him inside you igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce gently with each upward motion, the weight of them reminding you of how close you both are to this shared dream.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours, his dark irises locked onto your gaze as if he can see straight into your soul. There is no doubt that he probably could.

“Faster,” he urges, his hand moving from your hip to your thigh, encouraging you to pick up the pace. You comply, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusted to the rhythm.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies colliding, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing softly. Jungkook’s other hand finds your breast, kneading it roughly as his thumb brushed across your nipple, sending electric shocks through your system.

“Do you feel how ready you are for me?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with possessive heat. “Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me.” His words sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you can’t help but moan loudly, your head falling back as you surrender to the sensations.

Jungkook takes advantage of your distracted state, shifting his hold on you and flipping you onto your back once more. His chest pressed against yours, his weight grounding you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. “Tell me you want my baby.”

The intensity of his question catches you off guard, but the truth is already bubbling up from deep within you. “Yes,” you whine, clutching at his shoulders as his thrusts grow more urgent. “I want you, I want this… want us.”

His response is rough, hips snapping forward as he drives into you with renewed vigor. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with arousal.

“So good for me.” He reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in circles that synced perfectly with his movements.

You cry out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Jungkook’s hand moves again, this time slipping lower, two fingers pressing into you alongside his cock. “God, you’re so wet for me,” he notes, voice strained. “So ready to become a mother again.”

The combination of his fingers and his cock was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your body lighting up like a firework. You can feel the orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

“Jungkook!” you scream his name, your body convulsing around him as you come, stars bursting behind your closed eyelids.

He doesn’t stop, not even for a second. If anything, his movements become more intense, his breathing ragged as he chases his own release. “Stay with me, baby,” he commanded, his voice gravelly. “Don’t let go yet.”

You cling to him, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he continues to pound into you, his fingers still working their magic. “Almost there,” he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his climax. “Almost…”

And then he freezes, his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, his seed spilling into you with an urgency that betrays his desperation to make this moment real. “Mine,” he says roughly, voice breaking as he collapses onto you, his breathing heavy.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, the only sound heard is the rapid beating of your combined hearts.

Jungkook’s lips find yours, kissing you deeply as if sealing the promise they had just made.

“This is just the beginning,” he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with conviction.

“Our family starts here,” Jungkook affirms, caressing your hips softly.

The morning sun crept over the horizon, its golden rays slipping through the cabin’s frosted windows and telling you a story that today will be a perfect day.

You stir first, the soft glow coaxing you from the cocoon of blankets. Jungkook is still fast asleep beside you, his face relaxed in a way that makes your heart swell. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, one arm flung protectively over your waist as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Careful not to wake him, you shift slightly, your gaze falling on the fireplace across the room. The embers had long since died, leaving a bed of ash that glowed faintly in the morning light. Outside, the snow glittered like diamonds, untouched and pristine.

Last night replays in your mind, every whispered word and shared touch lingering like a secret promise. A soft blush warms your cheeks as you rest a hand on your stomach, wondering, hoping.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Jungkook groans beside you, his arm tightening around you as his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, his face slowly breaking into a sleepy smile as he finds you watching him.

“Morning,” he sighs, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning, baby,” you respond, brushing a strand of hair from his face and leaning in to kiss his forehead.

Jungkook leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed again for a brief moment. “You’re glowing,” he says softly, cracking one eye open to peek at you.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Jungkook pronounces confidently, pulling you closer until your foreheads touch. “Last night…” His voice trails off, a grin spreading across his face. “Let’s just say I think we’ve got good odds.”

Your stomach turns at the memory of Jungkook fucking you so intensely. You’d been at it most of the night, Jungkook wanting to try as many positions as possible. Your husband's stamina was as high as the chances of you being pregnant already.

“Confident, are we?” you tease, though your heart is still skipping at the thought.

“With you? Always.”

The two of you lay there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other and the promise of what was to come. Eventually, the sound of tiny feet padding down the stairs broke the peaceful quiet.

“Eomma!” Areum’s voice calls out, bright and cheerful.

Jungkook groans dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “She’s too good at waking up early,” he mumbles, making you laugh. “I thought I might be lucky enough to have you ride me into being fully awake.”

“Come on,” you chuckle, nudging him playfully. “I’ll ride you later.”

With a sigh and a mumble of ‘you better’, Jungkook rolls out of bed, grabbing a pair of fresh boxers from the open suitcase and tossing his hoodie to you.

“Get it on, we don’t need to show her our anatomy just yet.”

You chuckle, quickly slip the hoodie over your head, before padding out to meet Areum, who stands at the bottom of the stairs clutching her favourite stuffed bunny.

“There’s snow everywhere!” she exclaims, her eyes wide with excitement.

“I know, princess,” Jungkook brightly says, scooping her up into his arms. “Maybe after breakfast, we can go outside and build the biggest snowman you’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” Areum’s face lit up, her joy infectious. “Bigger than the one at yoonie samchon’s house?”

“Of course,” he replies, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Ours will be much better.”

That competitive streak will never die.

You watch them with a soft smile, the sight of Jungkook cradling her so naturally makes your heart ache in the best way.

“Eomma, you’ll help too, right?” Areum asks, turning her bright eyes on you as she finally notices your presence.

“Of course,” you warmly respond, reaching out to take her into your arms. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

As the three of you settle into the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes filling the air. A quiet sense of peace lingers and you feel whole.

Jungkook catches your eye over the rim of his coffee mug, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. He didn't say anything, but he didn’t need to. You knew. You always did.

Whatever the future held, whatever new adventures or challenges lay ahead, you knew you’d face them together.

And maybe, just maybe, there was already a tiny spark of new life waiting to join your little family.

A Quiet Christmas was exactly what you needed.

You reach for your phone, capturing a photo of your husband and Areum scrunching their noses as they laugh at one another.

The photo is quick to make it to your instagram, with a sweet caption that summarises it all.

Our Quiet Christmas.

And there we have it! I hope dad!jk made you feel as cosy as I felt writing this 🦢! Merry Christmas, my loves ; I hope you have a wonderful Christmas 🎄.

Here is my masterlist if you would like to check out my other works <3

↠ Taglist : @iamstilljk @lovingkoalaface @kooeuphoria @jeonsgf-97 @taeskrve @freshmoondragon (names in italics - I was unable to tag)

#bts fics #jungkook fics #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabbles #bts oneshots #bts pwp #jungkook pwp

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fungateshortcakes · 2 months ago

Text

Crochet me a mistletoe

Got this idea because, well, it's christmas and I recently started crocheting! I am nowwhere near as good as I described the skills of the reader. I can't even crochet a simple scarf. But practice makes perfect, and a girl can dream right? (Reader is gender neutral)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Its christmas at the mansion and you've crocheted everyone a special gift. What will Logan think about the present you made especially for him?

Wordcount: 4.9k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, none, fluff, slowburn-ish, friends to lovers, reader can crochet, painfully sappy, missunderstandings?, itty bitty bits of angst, happy ending

The x-men mansion in december felt like stepping into a festive snow globe. Frosted windows framed the place, a hord of students racing through the halls as they were excited to spent the christmas holidays at home with their families, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of christmas jingles that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

The large tree in the main living room was a masterpiece, each ornament carefully placed by a team effort of students and teachers. Even Logan had been forced politely asked to string the lights, grumbling about it the whole time while he was secretly ensuring that every lightbulb was perfectly in its place. Despite your reassurance that it was fine and that he could come down from the ladder already, he shook his head, a deep frown on his face as he munched on his bottom lip as he rearranged the lights for the 1000th time.

You sighed with a smile, deciding to let him do his thing. Yet you found yourself sneaking glances at him, something you had been doing more often than you cared to admit over the last few months.

He was rugged, rough around the edges and seemingly utterly out of place among the cheery holiday decorations, but there was something about seeing him standing by the firelight, a string of glittery garlands for the tree slung over his shoulder, that made your heart flutter.

But Logan was just your friend. A good one. And you weren’t about to mess that up by acting on a silly crush that wasn't anything more than that. So, instead of drooling at the way his muscles strained and dipped under the wife beater he wore even in this freezing weather while he helped decorating the place, you threw yourself into your newest hobby: crocheting.

For weeks, you had been holed up in your room, learning and practicing how to crochet everything from scarves, mittens and hats to cute plushies and useful items such as cup coasters or little bags.

It had started as a way to pass the time, especially when there was no mission you were sent to. And now that you were deep into the christmas holidays, you didn't even have a class to teach. That's when you realised you had nothing to do and it was time to find a new hobby.

But once you got the hang of it and felt like it wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, the idea of creating handmade gifts for your friends at the mansion had blossomed and you were eager to make a perfect present for everyone.

The work was slow but rewarding. You had already finished a soft scarf for Ororo in her favorite lavender colour that complimented her snow white hair and a set of soft, fingerless gloves for Hank in a deep navy blue. Each project felt like a little piece of yourself, stitched into every loop and knot.

But Logans gift had been different from the start.

It had taken you three tries to find the right yarn until you finally settled on a charcoal gray that would suit his style and features without standing out too much.

You decided on a sweater, something warm and practical that he could wear during the long, cold nights he spent patrolling the grounds. And, because you couldn’t help yourself, you added a small, personal touch. A tiny design embroidered over the heart, a pair of crossed claws encircled by a wreath of holly. You might as well, right? This project would take you a long ass time anyway, so a little embroidery wouldn’t hurt.

Crocheting actual clothing pieces like sweaters and jackets was a painstacking process, taking up lots and lots of yarn and taking forever. Only people you loved were worth that effort. You hoped Logan would know that once he held the finished products in hand.

Now with christmas eve approaching fast, the sweater was nearly finished. But you had other projects that you worked on simultaniously. If the task of crocheting another long chain for a scarf became too dreading and boring, you switched it up by continuing to work on a plushie.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna get yourself snowed in if you keep sittin’ there.”

Logans voice startled you, making you lose the stitch you were in. You looked up from your crocheting to find him leaning against the doorframe of the common room. The fireplace crackled warm beside you and outside the tall open window, there were snowflakes swirling in a gentle flurry. You sat cozy on the windowsill in your warmest clothes, enjoying the crisp breeze against your face and watching how the snow painted the garden of the mansion in a dazzling bright white, all while absentmindely crocheting your gifts.

“I like the view” you answered him with a soft smile, the yarn rolling between your feet as you pull at it “And I’m almost done.”

Logan left his spot at the door and stepped into the room, his boots making soft thuds on the wooden floor. “What’re you makin’?” You shook your head as you did only a little to hide the plushie you were crocheting “It’s a surprise” you teased.

Logan raised an eyebrow, hand in his pant pockets, his lips quirking into a smirk. “For me?”

You rolled your eyes with a soft giggle. “Only if you want a teddy bear plush in Scott's outfit" you said, throwing him a knowing look.

He shuddered in mild disgust, chuckled, then settled into the armchair across from you. “Nah, I'm good" he replied, putting his hands up in defence. Then his gaze landed on the bottom of the sweater, his soon to be sweater, that poked out from under your blanket draped over your lap. He pointed to it "I think one of 'em ugly christmas sweaters you are makin' would suit Summers better" he joked, thinking you would laugh along, but he noted your slight hurt frown. Him saying that he thought christmas sweaters were ugly made your heart sting painfully. You pulled the sweater under your blanket completely, shielding it from Logan. “It’s not ugly,” you mumbled, averting eyecontact with him.

In that moment, you weren't too sure about your gift for Logan anymore. The sweater you would give him wasn’t the usual christmas sweater with bright colours and corny patterns, but still, maybe he wasn't a sweater person? What if he didn't like it? He would never say it to your face, but just imagining his unimpressed face, a forced smile as he reluctantly thanked you, already thinking about the best and fastes way to get rid of the clothing piece, it made you want to cry already. All this effort for nothing?

You hadn't realised that you stared at Logan while you where deep in thought, a lit cigar hanging lazily between his lips. “Why’re you always starin’ at me?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your face heated. “I wasn’t staring. Just thinking” you pressed out, quickly picking up your crocheting again.

Logan blew smoke from out of his nostrils “Sure you weren’t” he said, but there was no teasing in his tone. If anything, he sounded curious, curious of what exactly you where thinking with your brows knitted together.

You focused on the yarn in your hands, on the way your hook looped easily through every stitch, willing yourself to act normal. This was fine. You were fine. “You’re workin’ too hard” Logan muttered after a moment. “Spendin’ all your time on this.”

You shrugged “It’s worth it” you smiled without looking up. “I want everyone to have something special this year. And what's more special than a present made especially for them. I guess the best gift is when someone thinks of you”

Logan looked at you. Looked at you for a long second and didn’t respond right away. When you finally glanced at him, his expression was unreadable, his gaze already turned away and fixed on the fire. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, ask him what he meant by that, Logan stood up, stretching his arms over his head. His white tank top rode up slightly as he stretched, your eyes staring at the dimples on his back before you shook your head, your cheeks on fire.

“Don’t stay up too late” he called, heading towards the door. “Santa don’t visit if you’re awake.”

You laughed, nodding your head dismissive manner “Goodnight, Logan.”

Logan smiled softly as he looked back at you one more time “Night, darlin’.” And then he was gone. You looked down at the half-finished sweater under your blanket, your chest tight as you sighed.

The mansion was alive with holiday excitement the next morning, despite the kids not being there. But if they were, you just knew that they would be buzzing about presents and sneaking peaks under the towering Christmas tree already.

You spent most of the day putting the finishing touches to most of your gifts, tucked away in a quiet corner of the common room. All your presents were nearly finished, except for the sweater you had planned on gifting Logan. You couldn't bring yourself to work on it anymore. You couldn't even look at it, too ashamed that you even came up with this idea.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that Logan appeared in the common room, carrying an armful of firewood. He always looked so effortlessly strong when he carried stuff, it almost made you drool over his forearms and hands. His flannel shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his hairy forearms that had tiny snowflakes clinging to it.

You glanced up from your crocheting, trying not to stare too obviously.

“You been at that all day?” Logan asked, dropping the firewood near the fireplace with a loud thunk. He tried not to smile as he saw you bundled up with balls of yarn and wrapping paper surrounding you, a few ready gifts already stacked on top of the other, a hot cocoa with marshmallows steaming next to you on the coffee table.

“Almost done wrapping everything” you cheered, holding up a crocheted beanie for charles to keep his head warm.

Logans gaze locked onto the garment in your hands. His expression softened for a brief moment before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Looks good” he said gruffly, turning his attention to the fireplace again.

You smiled faintly, folding the beanie neatly and tucking it into a small box with a gift card and putting it on the stack of finished presents after you wrote Charles name on it “Thanks.”

Logan unsheathed his claws and striked a match on one of them, shaking the tiny flame on a stick before throwing it to the pile of freshly chooped logs “You should take a break. All that knittin' and crochetin' must your fingers” Logan grumbled, blowing at the fire until the flames started to flicker to life, casting a warm glow across the room.

“I will once I am done with all of this” you replied to him, wrapping the next present aside. “it won't take long" Logan straightened back up, brushing his rugged hands on his jeans. “So, what are your plans tonight? Besides playin’ Santa Claus.”

“Ororo planned to watch a christmas movie with the team, I guess I will join them later” you replied, stretching your back a littlesince you had been sitting like a shrimp for the past few days, hunched over your projects. “Why, what about you?”

Logan shrugged "Not much" he cleared his throat “Might head out for a bit. Get some air.”

“On Christmas Eve?”

Logan gave a small, almost shy smile and shrugged “Never been much for all the holiday stuff.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You could stay in. Watch the movie with us.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. “Yeah? You think they wouldn’t mind?”

Your eyebrows raised as he seemed so unsure “Of course not" you denied, smiling warmly. “I can promise that they all want you there, Logan. I know I do"

That evening, the two of you settled into the couch along with Jean and Scott, a bowl of popcorn between you. Ororo sat draped over the seat next to the sofa, Rouge and Remy sitting in front of you on the ground while Kurt was sprawled out right in front of the TV, looking up at the flimmering box with a toothy smile. Even Charles had rolled in to join.

The movie, a classic Christmas move, The Grinch, to be exact, played on the screen, and even though it was one of your favourite christmas movies, you found yourself paying more attention to Logan than the plot.

He was unusually relaxed despite everyone being so huddled up together, leaning back against the cushions with his arms crossed over his chest. You fleetingly looked over to the present neatly tucked away under the tree. His sweater. You had decided to finish it after bickering over it for so long. Well, you didn't exactly have time to make him anything else. And if you did, it would only be half assed. And you didn't want that, Logan deserved more. Something special.

Halfway through the movie, Logan reached for the popcorn, his hand brushing against yours briefly. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a spark up your arm and you felt like you were part of a cheesy and cliche slowburn fanfiction.

You quickly pulled your hand away, your heart racing. “Sorry” he muttered, his voice gruff and quiet as to not alert the others. “It’s okay” you whispered back, trying to sound normal.

The room fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sounds coming from the TV, the crackling fire and a little hushed banter between Rouge and Remy. But you couldn’t stop stealing glances at Logan, your chest tightening with every second you spent sitting so close to him.

“Thanks for talkin' me into this” Logan said suddenly, his voice low. “Didn’t think I’d enjoy it much, but… it’s nice.” Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’m glad.”

He looked at you then, his dark eyes catching the light of the fire. There was something in his gaze you couldn’t quite place, something warm and unguarded, even though a lot of people were around that could potentionally witness it. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you sitting by the fire, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes.

Then Logan cleared his throat quietly, breaking the spell. “You’re really something else, I hope you know that” he muttered, his voice rough but sincere.

Your cheeks heated, and you looked down at your lap. There they were again, his words from yesterday. The thoughts you had repeated in your head the whole night, not knowing what they represented. “What do you mean?”

“You put all this work into makin’ people happy, to make 'em feel included even though they weren't into it at first.” He explained, draping a muscled arm over the frame of the couch. "You force people into their luck, ya know? Haven't seen anything quite like it"

You brushed a lock behind your ear. "I guess I just wanted to do something nice” you smiled softly. Logan let out a deep, content breath through his nose, looking at you, his eyes soft “Well, you did." Logan said, his gaze lingering on you.

For a second, you thought he might reach out and let the arm that rested over the couch snake around your shoulder to pull you into him, but then he shifted in his seat, his hand retreating to his side.

By the time the movie ended, everyone said their goodbyes and goodnights, swarming out to their rooms to sleep, letting the mansion fall quiet. Only Logan and you were left. You also wanted to just fall into your bed and sleep, but you were too tired already to get yourself moving.

Logan was the first to stand, stretching his arms over his head and giving you a good view of the prominent vein that cascaded below his waistband. You started to think he was doing this on purpose. “Guess I’ll head to bed too" he yawned, his tone thick.

Goodnight, Logan” you replied, watching as he headed toward the door.

He paused before leaving, turning back to look at you. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Night, darlin’. Sleep well.”

When he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

The morning sun filtered through the frosted windows of the mansion, bathing the common room in a golden glow.

Christmas Day had finally arrived, and the mansion buzzed with the christmas spirit of all. It was a bit overwhelming to see everyone in their christmas pyjamas sitting around the tree, eager for presents.

Logan was already there too, leaning against the mantle with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Well, you liked to sleep in okay? It wasn’t hard to be down in the common room before you.

Logans presence was as steady as ever, but there was a quiet contentment to him this morning, you noted. He looked up as you entered and something in his expression softened.

“Mornin’” he greeted, his voice low, smooth and warm from the hot coffee he was drinking. You lifted your hand in a tiny wave “Morning” you yawned, smiling as you made your way to the tree, the rest of carefully wrapped gifts in your arms that you had finished just the night before after the movie. You couldn't sleep anyway since the thought of Logan made you stay awake, might as well perfect your presents.

After a while, it was your turn to hand out your presents. You crawled under the large tree, gifting them one by one. You watched in glee as the room filled with laughter and delighted exclamations. Ororo beamed when she unwrapped the lavender scarf you had made for her and Hank was already slipping on his navy gloves. Charles shooked his head with a chuckle as he saw the beanie you had crocheted for him, letting his fingers trace over it.

Logan waited patiently, allthough he didn'texpect there to be something for him, his dark eyes following you as you worked your way through the pile of gifts, quietly enjoying the unfiltered reactions from everyone.

When there was only one wrapped gift left you had to hand out, Logan wondered who it could be for since everyone had gotten their present already. But as you turned to him, handing him the neatly wrapped box containing his sweater, his brow lifted in surprise.

“For me?” he asked, as if the idea of receiving a gift was foreign to him.

You giggled at his reaction "Of course. Did you really think I wouldn't give you something?" you asked, smiling shyly. You were just as nervous for him to open the present as he was.

Logan carefully peeled back the paper, his hands oddly delicate for a man who seemed to handle everything with brute strength. When the sweater emerged, he stared at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the tiny embroidered design near the heart. He remembered the colour. This was the sweater he had called ugly. He had called your thoughtful gift ugly. He was a horrible person.

“You made this? For me?" he whispered in awe, a little more to himself, his eyes tearing up slightly.

“I did” you nodded, fiddling with your fingers as your nerves ate away at your insides. “Do you like it?”

He looked up at you, his gaze piercing. “I...this is…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he unfolded the sweater and pulled it on right then and there over his tank top. The fit was perfect and the sight of him in something you made with your own hands sent a warm flush through your chest. He looked like a chunky teddy bear and the urge to hug him was growing strong in your chest.

“Looks good on you” you said instead.

Logan’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “Feels good, too. Thank you.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of holiday cheer, but you couldn’t help noticing how Logan stuck close to you. He lingered near the kitchen while you baked cookies with Ororo and Rouge, his presence steady and reassuring. At one point, you caught him running his fingers over the sweaters fabric, his expression distant but content. He protected the sweater with his life, making sure no one ruined it by accidentally pouring wine over it. If just one atom of a cookie crumb were to touch the fabric, he would lash out.

It wasn’t until later that evening, after most had gone to bed and the mansion had settled into a peaceful quiet, that Logan found you sitting by the fire.

“You’ve been busy” he mumbled, his voice low as he sat down beside you.

“I guess I have,” you said, smiling. “It was worth it, though.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable like usual. Then he shifted and the next second, his big hand presented you a tiny wooden figurine, a little cat, carefully hand carved by him. "S'for you" he muttered, averting his gaze. The light of the fire did only so little to hide his embarrassed blush.

You gasped, taking the cat into your hands as if it was made out of glass and would break if you looked at it the wrong way "Did you....did you make this?" you asked him and he nodded reluctantly. You never thought Logan was into wood carving. But now that you knew, it made sense. "Yeah...didn't want to give it to you when everyone else was 'round. No need for 'em to know I have this hobby" he explained to you, picking at a loose thread on his sweater. Your stomach felt warm as you thanked him, holding onto his little present tightly.

You could feel Logans gaze on you as you admired his neat craftmansship, warm and steady and it took everything in you not to lean into him.

“Y’know” he said, breaking the drawn out silence between you “this is the best christmas I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.”

You looked up at him “Really?” you asked, your mouth agape in wonder.

“Yeah” he said, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile that was rare to see from him “And I think I’ve got you to thank for that.” Your heart swelled and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and placed your hand over his. Logan stiffened for only a short moment, his gaze darting to your hand, but then he relaxed, his fingers curling around yours.

“You’re welcome” you whispered softly. Logan didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

The fire started to die out, only faintly gleaming but still enough to wrap you and Logan in a light of warmth. Logans hand was still in yours, his warmth seeping into your skin as the quiet surrounded you both. You couldn’t remember how long you had been sitting there, since when you started to lean against him, head on his shoulder, but time seemed to stretch and slow, every second weighted with something unsaid.

“Darlin’” Logan finally murmured, his voice so soft it felt like it was meant for you alone. “Do you ever think about… settlin’ down?” the question caught you off guard for a second and you turned your head to look at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Settling down?”

“Yeah” he breathed, his gaze fixed on the low fire. He found an iron rod to dig and shove between the wooden logs that had long turned into coal and ash, trying to distract himself so the words would come easier. “Findin’ somethin’, someone, you can hold onto. Somethin’ real. Y'know, not these kinds of meaningless situationships.”

Your breath hitched and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Logan, the man who had always seemed like a force of nature. Wild, untamed and unyielding—looked almost vulnerable now, his expression open and unguarded.

“I guess I’ve thought about it. It would be nice to have that someone. The right person you can lean onto any time” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt like you were leaning against that one person just now. “Have you?”

He let out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “I didn’t think I had to. Thought I wasn’t the type for all that. But lately…” He trailed off, finally turning to meet your gaze, looking down at you cuddled up against him “Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ maybe I was wrong.”

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. “Logan” you began, your voice trembling slightly “what are you trying to say?” allthough the answer seemed obvious, you feared you weren't understanding him correctly.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m tryin’ to say that I care about you. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I know I’m not the easiest guy to be around, but… you make me wanna try. Make me wanna be better.”

Your chest tightened, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Logan…” were you imagining things? Were you actually by the windowstill, all alone, dying from the cold Logan warned you about? The cold that looked gorgeous from inside a warm room but was vicious in its beauty, killing you because you wouldn't listen and close the window? Were you just taking your last breath, your mind tricking you into dreaming about what could be?

“I know I’m probably messin’ this up" he swallowed deeply, his voice rough with emotion. “But I had to tell you. Couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

His words were real, his warmth, his soft breath fanning across your face. You weren't dying. You were just starting to live. “You’re not messing anything up" you shook your head, voice breaking slightly.

His eyes searched yours and for the first time, you saw a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “You mean that?”

Instead of answering, you leaned up, closing the space between you. Logan froze for a split second before his arms came around you, pulling you close into his lap as your lips met in a kiss that felt like coming home after a harsh and straining day out in the cold.

It was soft and tentative at first, but as the seconds stretched on, it deepened, the barriers between you dissolving like snow in the sun. Your hands laid flat against his chest, feeling the warm and fuzzy fabric underneath your fingers. Logan sighed from his nose as the kiss deepened, a quiet, longing noise forming in the back of his throat.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling in the silence of the room.

“I care about you too” you whispered. “More than I can even put into words.”

Logan let out a soft, shaky laugh, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Guess that makes us both pretty bad at talkin’ about feelings.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of relief. “Maybe. But I think we’re doing okay.”

Logan nodded “Better than okay" he murmured, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He was already getting addicted to this.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of warmth and quiet joy. Logan stayed by your side, his hand never straying far from yours as the two of you talked about everything and nothing. You felt like two teenagers that had sneaked away from everyone else to enjoy the thrill of making out and cuddling like in a sappy romance novel.

By the time the first light of dawn crept through the windows, you found yourselves curled up on the couch together, a soft blanket draped over you both. Logans arm was around your shoulders, and your head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long while. The sweater he still hadn't taken off (and wouldn’t for a while) acting like a soft pillow under your face.

“Good night, darlin'” Logan murmured, his lips brushing against your hair before he looked out the window, the sun rising slowly. He knew it wouldn’t take long before the others flodded the room, but he wanted you to sleep and rest, even if it was just for an hour. He kind of felt bad for keeping you up until the sun literally rose again, but how was he supposed to fall asleep when he just found out you loved him back?

“Good night, Logan” you whispered, smiling as you closed your eyes.

For the first time, you knew without a doubt that this was where you were meant to be - wrapped in Logans arms, your hearts stitched together like the threads of a handmade gift, stronger and more beautiful for the care put into every moment you shared with him.

I've never tried putting dividers like this before, how do we like it? I am also sorry that I am not quite posting this on christmas anymore. I just always get the ideas so late and randomly that I can't get it out on time.

I can't type anymore bc my hands are literally that cold and now, update, i read over it and corrected some mistakes. If you still see any, im sorry😔🙏🏻 I've fallen you all

Merry christmas🎄🎀

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