#turned some of his tattoos into feathers

[fanblurb88]

OML this is my favorite ghibli movie and I love this so much he's so pretty (but @blithe-bee always has beautiful art) I love a lot of Law art on here but this is one of my fave artists

@calysto1395 dropped a Howl's Moving Castle AU in our chat and I could not stop thinking about it, so here are some Howl!Law sketches

[bloodibambiidoll]

I Think I Could Love You (Eric Draven x Reader)

After narrowly escaping rehab you and Eric finally get some real time alone together… Technically part 2 to this fic but can be read as a stand alone. 1.8k WK, Unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, pussy eating, just a lil bit of spanking 18+MNDI

“What is this place?” Eric asks as his emerald eyes roam around the living area of the large penthouse. You turn toward him with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and a devious little smirk painted on your pretty lips.

“I used to work for the owners. Cleaned the place once a week. Suckers didn’t change the combination lock. It’s a vacation house and they only come here in the summer so we’ll be good.” You look up at this beautiful broken boy that you hardly know but already can’t imagine your life without. You had just run for miles, narrowly escaping the rehab facility and you both smelled like sweat, your hair was a mess, your pink sweatsuits and faces are both smudged with dirt but you’ve never wanted him more.

You and Eric fucked in probably every secret place possible of that building, always quickies in quiet, dark places. But knowing no one will bother you here and that you can truly enjoy him for the first time has your pussy clenching around nothing. You run your hands down his clothed chest while you stare into his eyes with your bottom lip secured between your teeth. He looks down at you through hooded eyes, holding you in that hypnotic soul reading gaze. It’s almost like he can read your mind.

“You want something, angel?” He cups your face in his large tattooed hand and his thumb traces the apple of your cheek, the side of your nose around your mouth before finally pulling your bottom lip from between your teeth with a pop. Eric runs his thumb across it, smearing your spit around. You dart your tongue out and run it along his digit before taking it into your mouth with a hum and it pulls a low groan from him. “Use your words. You know I’ll give you whatever you want.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb before sucking on it hard and pulling back so it falls from your mouth. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck that tight little pussy?” Eric’s other hand comes up to wrap around your throat lightly as his eyes bore down into your own.

“Yeah, fucking ruin me.” Eric exhales deeply through his nose as he tightens his grip around your neck and pulls you forward to lock your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue darts into your mouth, intertwining with your own and he wraps one of his long arms around your waist, pulling you close. He stands there kissing you like it’s the last thing he will ever do for what could’ve been minutes or hours but you were so wrapped up in him you could hardly tell.

Eric pulls back enough to place sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your throat. His fingers grip onto the hem of your sweatshirt before pulling it over your head and tossing it behind him somewhere in the room. His lips brush against your skin again as he kisses and licks across your collar bones and down your chest. He sucks hard on the top of your boob, not stopping until he’s sure it’s left a mark before taking a nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it then switches to the other side, giving it the same treatment. He loops his arm around your waist tightly and uses his large foot to sweep your feet off the ground before lowering onto the plush carpet. Eric makes quick work of the rest of your clothes, taking off your shoes and sweats, leaving you in nothing but a thin pair of lace panties.

“Fucking look at you.” His eyes burn with the perfect mixture of desire and adoration. It makes your insides melt and has your panties getting impossibly wetter.

“You’re so beautiful.” Eric runs his hands down your body, stopping to grab your tits before continuing down. He caresses your stomach and leaves feather light touches along the band of your underwear then his large inked hands grip onto your thighs. He pulls them up and apart revealing the large wet spot in the white lace. “And so fucking wet for me.”

He runs his fingers along your clothed slit and presses slow circles into your clit. Eric grips onto your panties and you hardly have to miss his touch because the minute they’re off he’s gathering your wetness with his digits before thrusting two knuckle deep inside of you. A long drawn out moan slips from your lips as he curls his fingers up toward your sweet spot and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit.

“Oh, f- fuck.” Your eyes roll back and your back arches off the ground as you fall apart embarrassingly fast for him.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Come for me.” The pace of his fingers doesn’t let up until your pussy stops pulsing around them, he pulls them from inside you and brings them to your lips. You take them into your mouth and glide your tongue along every inch of them, sucking them clean. “Good girl, taste yourself.”

“I wanna see you.” You whine as you paw at his sweatshirt and Eric smirks down at you before reaching behind him to pull it over his head. He does the same with his shirt before standing up to kick off his shoes. He pushes his sweats and boxers down, letting his cock spring free as he towers above you like a god. This is the first time you’re seeing him fully naked and god he’s perfect. Tattoos on every inch of his skin, perfectly toned, you want to lick along the V-line leading down to his thick cock before taking it into your mouth and deep throating him until you’re choking on it.

“I know what you’re thinking, there will be plenty of time for you to be on your knees for me. But right now I need to be inside you.” Eric bends down and grabs onto your hips before manhandling you onto your feet and throwing you over his shoulder. You giggle as he marches toward the bedroom with you dangling over his back, his very perfect ass bouncing against your cheek with every step.

He throws you on your stomach onto the bed before landing a harsh smack on your ass that has you yelping and jolting forward. Eric gives the other cheek the same treatment before grabbing onto the fat of your ass and spreading your cheeks for him. You’re so wet you can hear your pussy lips come apart as he pulls you open and closed for him. He leans down and shoves his face into your pussy, running his tongue along your dripping folds.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck.” You whine and push your hips back into him when he slides his tongue into your pussy and starts to fuck you with it. His perfect nose brushes up against your asshole as he eats you like a man starved. Eric’s fingers find your clit and begin to run circles around it in time with the flicks of his tongue.

“You taste so sweet, fuck.” His words vibrate against your core and it has euphoria washing over you. You cum on his tongue hard as your fists desperately claw into the sheets and your toes curl. “That’s it, baby, give me your cum.” Eric runs his tongue from your clit to your ass, swirling your tight hole a few times. He gets back on his feet and grips onto your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the tip through your wetness before tapping your clit a few times and lining up with your entrance. He thrusts into you to the hilt with little resistance due to how wet you are for him. But no matter how many times inside he’s you, you think you’ll always feel that slight burn due to how thick and long his dick was. Eric grips onto your hips and starts to fuck into you with reckless abandon, the sound of skin smacking together and your wails practically bouncing off the walls.

“Fuck, Eric, it’s so good - it’s so fucking good.” Drool drips from your chin onto the bed beneath you as you lay there and let him fuck you for all your worth. His fingers lace through your hair and use his grip to pull your head back so far your front half is raised off the bed with your back against his sweaty chest. The air smells like sweat, musk, and sex and it only turns you on more. Little moans and whimpers leave your lips, having been accustomed to your sneaky rendezvous but that wasn’t going to cut it for him. His free hand grips onto your jaw and squishes your cheeks together.

“I wanna hear you scream for me.” Eric practically growls into your ear as he fucks you without mercy and it has a loud moan ripping through you. You scream his name over and over again like a prayer as white hot pleasure washes over your entire body. Your pussy clenches around him while you fall apart on his cock and it has him feeling closer to the edge himself. He bites down on your shoulder so hard you’re sure it’ll leave a mark before using his grip on your hair to shove your face into the mattress.

“So perfect, so tight, I’m going to film you up so good, fuck.” Eric’s cock twitches inside of you and his hands rest on either side of the mattress as he covers you with his body while he empties inside of you. He pants as he comes down from his high and nuzzles his face into your neck, practically crushing you with his body weight. You both lay there for a moment, a mess of sweat and cum. But you don’t even care. He feels so good. Being with him feels so perfect. Like all the wrongs in your life have lead you to this moment. After a bit Eric rolls off of you with a groan, his now soft cock slipping from inside you causing his huge load to drip down your thighs. He rolls onto his back and you turn on your side toward him, resting your hand on his chest so you can gaze up at him.

“I’ve never loved anyone before. But, I think I could love you.” You say it so quietly he can hardly hear you, but he does and it makes heat wash all over his body. No one has ever loved him. Not even his own mother.

“Yeah? I think I could love you too, Angel.” He gives you that smile that you so desperately wanted to see the first time you saw him glaring at one of the doctors back in the facility and it makes you melt.

“Yeah? Well we fucking stink. We need a bath.” You both start busting up laughing before he takes your face in his hand and kisses you gently, hoping you can feel all the promises he isn’t ready to say out loud through his lips.

Divider is by @saradika-graphics

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away. 

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then— you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?" 

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock. 

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment. 

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it. 

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you. 

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil. 

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast. 

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage. 

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips. 

"Just... peachy." 

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth. 

"You always have options." 

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?" 

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated. 

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin. 

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down. 

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time. 

"It's me," Blue greets kindly. 

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good." 

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes. 

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them. 

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”

[dissapointu]

Movie night in with Ekko (nsfw)

Ekko leaned back into the couch, one arm resting languidly over the backrest while the other loosely held onto the edge of the blanket draped across both your laps. His posture screamed casual, but the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow betrayed his endless tendency to overthink, even in stillness. The dim, muted hues of the TV danced over his skin, catching the glint of his silver hair and highlighting the subtle glow of the bioluminescent tattoo that peeked from beneath his sleeve.

The movie played on, though neither of you were paying much attention. He wasn’t sure what was on screen—a car chase, maybe? Some over-the-top explosion? It didn’t matter. His mind wandered, and the rhythm of your steady breaths beside him pulled him into an easy calm. For a moment, he let himself revel in the simplicity of it all: the quiet intimacy of the shared blanket, the faint scent of your shampoo still lingering between you, the way the world outside seemed far away.

When you shifted beside him, he barely glanced down, assuming you were adjusting for comfort. You tugged the blanket higher, ducking under its soft cover, and he thought nothing of it—until your hand brushed his thigh.

The touch was feather-light, barely there, but it sent a jolt straight through him. His breath hitched, loud enough to break the quiet, and suddenly the stillness felt charged. His gaze darted to the blanket, his heartbeat thunderous in his ears.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as realization clicked. You knelt on the floor before him, hidden entirely beneath the thick fabric. His body stiffened, the heat of your proximity setting every nerve alight. The weight of his hand on the blanket betrayed his tension, his fingers twitching as if unsure whether to pull it away or press it tighter around you.

“Yo…” His voice cracked, and he winced internally. Smooth, Ekko. Real smooth.

You didn’t respond, at least not with words, and that only made the situation more electrifying. His lips parted in an unsteady exhale as heat crept up his neck, spilling onto his cheeks. His free hand clenched at his side, nails digging into his palm in a futile attempt to anchor himself.

The movie droned on in the background, but the story unfolding under that blanket was far more captivating. His chest tightened with a heady mix of excitement, nervousness, and disbelief. This—this wasn’t what he’d expected when you’d invited him over for a “quiet night in.” And yet, as he bit his lip to stifle the groan that threatened to escape, it was clear he wasn’t about to stop you.

He let his head fall back against the couch, closing his eyes as a slow, lazy grin tugged at the corner of his lips. This night was about to take a very unexpected turn—and Ekko was all in.

[utterlyotterlyx]

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Eleven

Summary - Azriel grapples with the weight of his guilt whilst you receive a visitor, and in Autumn, a meeting changes the entire trajectory of your fate.

Warnings - trauma, ptsd, betrayal, morally grey antics, friendship fluff, depression, thoughts of death, some hope (finally!)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

There was a little nagging voice in his head, perhaps the shadow that adored you the most, telling him that he had allowed it to go too far.

Azriel lay atop the cream comforter of the bedspread that belonged to the woman he truly thought he would spend the rest of his life with if her brother would allow it. The pillows still held the faint smell of her, currents of the most intoxicating scent he had ever encountered flowing through him with every medial turn of the head.

He couldn't be there when Rhys took you, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from unsheathing the murderous tool that you often likened to a toothpick to get a rise out of him.

The bargain tattoo strained and withered around his bicep, contracting the muscle and making him regret every single choice he had made that got him to where he was. Laying on your bed, ready to tear the pillows apart just so he could hold the feathers drenched in the scent of you.

Nesta had left to follow you into a world of the unknown because of her unwavering loyalty to you, so had Elain and Lucien; Cassian was a mere shell of his former glory, Mor rarely spoke to anyone and often locked herself away with Amren, and Feyre, well, Azriel hadn't seen Feyre in a couple of weeks, nor Nyx.

Feyre had moved herself and Nyx to the House of Wind to escape Rhys, to put some space between them just in case one of them did something they would most probably regret. The night Rhys had taken you to The Prison was the night he permanently moved back into the River House, Feyre couldn't allow Nyx to grow up with the example of hatred that ran through his fathers veins.

The Prison.

Azriel could almost picture it. The cell lined with onyx stone to contain you, he could almost smell your fear and sadness, he could almost hear your heart cleaving into a thousand pieces. The Prison was a horrid place made for horrid creatures, and you certainly were not one of them. It was all his fault, he shouldn't have told Rhys that he witnessed Tamlin and Helion enter the Autumn Court, but if he hid it and Rhys found out then his entire façade would be blown and you would never get the chance to be free.

Scratches lined the palms and backs of his hands, some fully healed and others freshly scabbed over from his incessant self-mutilation brought on by his guilt. Azriel could only imagine how broken you were, that awful hum that you sang into the night still haunted his nightmares to the point where he refused to sleep, he refused to find comfort when you were on the verge of giving up entirely.

It was odd, how Autumn had moulded itself into your bones, your scent now tinged with hints of pine and mulled wine, of warm rain on the sun-kissed grass. It made him wonder how blind Rhys truly was if he couldn't tell that his sister had found her mate, and that that mate was none other than Eris Vanserra. It was obvious, the longing glances beyond the window, the void lingering in your eyes, the way your hand would occasionally drift over your heart like something was pulling at it.

The continent was safe from war thanks to your sacrifice, but you hadn't done it for the continent, you had done it for your family. A family that no longer had a place for him.

Azriel had told himself that it was fine, he couldn't blame you for hating him if you did, he deserved it, but that wouldn't stop him from doing what he needed to do.

It was silly of Nesta to believe that he hadn't seen what she had seen that day Under The Mountain, he had allowed her to think that she had found the book when they had split up, knowing that she would smuggle the tome back into Velaris and hide it. That evil was better hidden by her than it ever would be by him. Though, Azriel didn't account for Nesta hiding it so well; he had practically turned her room upside down looking for it to no avail. All he had found were a few of her raunchy novels that she usually never let out of her sight, but she had left them all behind when she had left the Night Court to join your side.

Azriel wished he had done the same, maybe things would have been different between the two of you if he had.

But you needed someone on the inside, even if it did feel like all of the odds were against you.

Rhys was stupid enough to believe it much to Azriel's pallid joy, the High Lord had no one to turn to, the rest of his Inner Circle had labelled his actions as monstrous to his face and refused to aid him further. Azriel was all he had left, and he was clinging to the Shadowsinger like the last patch of snow to the earth just before the Spring sun inhaled it.

It was too risky to tell you, everything you felt had to be real, Rhys' attention was solely on you and your behaviour and if that changed even a little bit then you would not survive his wrath, not when you had no power to protect yourself with.

Whisperings behind closed doors told Azriel what he already knew, that his family was frantically hatching a plan to get you out of Velaris and back into the safety of the Autumn Court. No matter the cost. And, in his own way, Azriel would make sure that they succeeded.

Maniacal laughter haunted what little sleep the island had tried to gift to you.

That along with the faint dripping of rain was all you could hear, the inner voice that usually caressed your mind had left long ago, and you weren't sure if it would ever return. The prisoners were relishing in the demise of the Princess of Velaris, cooing and taunting you every moment they could, and when one would fall to slumber, another one would take its place.

How you hadn't gone mad yet was beyond you.

It was you who had locked many off the vile residents of the putrid place away, and now you were one of them. Straining against the stone, you pushed yourself upright, your back hitting the glacial wall of the cell you had no choice but to call home; you shivered at the contact and attempted to wrap your thinned fingers around the blanket to contain some warmth within your decaying body, but it was pointless.

The altar taunted you, the rare stripes of moonlight pouring upon it like it was some holy artifact that you should be worshipping. A part of you had to admire Rhys' gall attempt to break you, forcing you to dwell in the same room as a thing that had ruined your life, that had stripped you of a fundamental aspect of your humanity. Looking at the glistening stone altar, you struggled to remember why people had been so afraid of you, you struggled to remember the mother tongue of your fury on the battlefield and the sultry wit that would fill the halls.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you let out a defeated sob, the pain throbbing at your limbs, threatening to allow the foundations to consume you if you didn't move. The queen within you had dimmed, leaving the weakest part of you on show for the continent to see, not that anyone would ever come for you there.

Poor little fawn. The cutest thing we have ever seen. Such a shame, to be a monster.

The little fawn is trapped. The little fawn will die here.

No one will come for her.

Raising you gaze to the ceiling, you allowed the tears to fall. If you were going to die then it would be worth it, to protect those who had risked everything to stand by your side, to protect those who had showed you love in the face of uncertainty and evil. Resting your head against the wall, you felt yourself succumbing to the words that had been chanted to you through the nights, your heart clenching at the little name that had always given you butterflies.

Fawn.

Your mind drifted, and you could almost see him. In your visions, Eris was happy, strolling through the forests with Willow in tow weaving between his legs and sunlight illuminating that gods-crafted face. You wondered if he had heard your song, if it had reached the depths of Autumn to tell him that you were still alive. Had Gwyn done as you asked? Did Eris know anything about your torture?

Before you could even think of a scenario that could bring you some hope, a quiet scuffle of feet sounded at the mouth of the hallway where your chamber lay. The sound was followed by a sweep of fabric against the floor, and your interest was captured by it. You shakily rose to your feet, leveraging your withering weight against the stone until you could find your footing. Firelight flickered, growing brighter with each passing moment, and you waited before the enchanted barred gate for the owner to make themselves known.

The silhouette was Rhys', that was undeniable, but as you watched him, you saw him shrink a few inches, you saw his usually short tamed hair grow and pour over his shoulders, and you watched as his entire body morphed into another entirely. The firelight from the torch illuminated her face, revealing ethereal beauty and the pale blue-grey eyes that you had always admired, "Feyre," you weren't sure if she heard the utter of her name from the broken cracks in your voice.

You sank to your knees in front of her and she followed suit, placing the torch against the wall and crawling to the bars of the cell, her bottom lip wobbling as she took in the sight of you. Matted hair, ashen skin streaked with tears, weary eyes with no fire or spark, chapped and bloodied lips, "I'm so sorry, y/n. I'm so sorry," her fingers reached through the bars, the pads of them massaging warmth into your cheeks, "We're trying, alright? We're trying to find a way to get you out of here."

"He'll kill you," hatred flickered in her eyes but it wasn't something she hadn't thought of already, "Feyre, you can't."

Feyre's nostrils flared, water pooled at her bottom lids and you leant into her palm, it being the first innocently warm thing you had felt, "None of us deserve you, y/n. We have all been complicit in this one way or another. and I am not the only one who can't stand to watch this anymore," sensing your wavering life, Feyre added, "You have to hold on. Your family is waiting for you. Nesta and Elain are waiting for you. Eris is waiting for you."

"You have faced things no one ever should, and it makes me sick to know that your family has done this, that we have done this to you. Even if it's the last thing I do, I will get you out of this, y/n. We all will. I need you to hold on for a little longer, alright?"

The stone collar growled in retaliation, burning into your flesh for entertaining the words and you visibly winced, "I don't think that I can."

"You must," Feyre's words exuded those of a High Lady, though she would never pull rank on you, she grasped your face in her hands and removed the matted hair from your face, "Gwyn has sent word, we are orchestrating a High Lord's meeting, then, you will be free. You have to hold on, otherwise it'll have all been for nothing and you are too strong for that. If you are going to die then it'll be when you're old surrounded by everyone who has ever loved you, not in this gods forsaken prison. Do you hear me?"

Feyre was holding back her tears, she had never seen anyone so broken, so close to allowing the darkness to swallow them whole to escape the torment they had faced. The resentment she held toward Rhys was palpable, it was rife within the creases on her forehead and in the deep hued bags beneath her eyes.

"How is Nyx?" You had often thought of the babe, if he even remembered who you were, if he missed you at all, if he had any idea what was going on around him.

Feyre smiled sadly, her fingers caressing your rough skin, "He misses his aunt, very much."

"He does?"

Feyre hummed in confirmation, her head tilted to the side, eyes peering down at your hunched over form like she had just found a wounded doe in a clearing, writhing in a bed of autumn leaves, "I have to go, before this place realises that I'm not Rhys and alerts him," her hand withdrew from your face and a whimper fell from your lips at the sudden cold that coiled around you, "I'll come back, I don't know when but I will, I promise," a dark spot pooled at Feyre's right, looming in the corner of the opening, it wasn't prominent enough for Feyre to notice it, but you were attuned to the darkness, you'd notice an anomaly anywhere.

The High Lady rose to her feet, clasping the torch between her trembling fingers and tightening her cloak around her frame. All you could do was stare up at her, "Remember, remember that you were born to make the world shake at your fingertips. Don't let him ruin you."

And with that, Feyre turned away, leaving you slumped against the confinements of the gates, morphing back into the image of her husband once she was far away enough that it wouldn't scare you.

Feyre had contorted into Rhys, just like she had Tarquin before the war, even her scent morphed into his. The footsteps fell heavy against the stone, the firelight reflecting off of the dampened walls as she stalked through the prison, winding through the halls and finding herself being grateful for the lack of chortles sent her way by the prisoners, but also finding herself yearning to return to you.

A cool breeze drifted through the hall, telling Feyre that the entrance was only around the corner, and soon she'd be back at the House of Wind with her little Nyx working with her family on the plan to free you. Though, as soon as she turned the corner, she halted, she straightened her posture and felt dread settle into her chest at the flash of blue that greeted her.

Azriel stood before her, no doubt seeing right through the body she wore, his fists and jaw were clenched and his eyes burned into her, "I have to that admit that I'm impressed, Feyre. Impersonating Rhys to sneak into this place to see her." The darkness curled around him as it always had and would, his siphons were glowering in the slick corridor, bouncing off the glistening walls wet by the most recent downpour.

Shifting to her original form, Feyre became comfortable with the possibility of hurting Azriel, after the hand he had dealt in your suffering, "I did it with Tarquin, it was easy," Feyre's fists clenched, the hem of her cloak drowning in the puddle behind her, "Are you going to lock me up as well, Az?"

Azriel stepped forward into the scope of the firelight, his eyes softened and shoulders lax, "No. I was coming to see her as well."

"You have no right," Feyre spat, her stance shifting as a blockade to prevent him from delving further, "You're the reason why she's here."

"I know that," Azriel admitted, knowing that nothing he could say could change that fact, "Do you think that I wanted to? Feyre, Rhys has lost his mind, someone needed to be on the inside, to be trusted enough to know what he has planned. None of you would be able to do it, so I had to, and I couldn't tell a soul of it, not if I wanted her to get out of this court alive."

"What are you talking about?"

Azriel ran a hand over his face in frustration and sighed, "Who do you think tipped Gwyn off to go into the River House?"

Feyre stuttered before the realisation hit her, "It was you. You've been playing double agent this entire time."

"I promised her that I would always look out for her, that I would protect her," he felt the bargain tattoo purr in reply, "If I had truly hurt y/n then I'd be dead, from my own guilt or from the consequence of breaking the bargain," his gaze flickered behind Feyre, like he was expecting you to round the corner, "I'll never be able to forgive myself for what I've aided, and I don't expect you or her to either. Gwyn will deliver the message to Eris and Nesta, they're meeting with Tamlin and Helion to tell them of what has happened here, one of them will call a High Lord's meeting. That's our chance to set her free. Tell the others to prepare themselves, it isn't going to be easy."

None of it was going to be easy, to defy the High Lord of the Night Court was an act of treason, they could all be wiped from the earth for it but it was a reality that they would all welcome if it meant that you had a real chance to live. Not just survive, but live a life that deserved you.

Azriel took a step forward, "Feyre," he coaxed his High Lady from her thoughts, "I need you to do this, for her, for all of us."

"I will," her voice lingered, "But you can't see her, she'll crumble if she sees you. You've broken her heart and thus her sanity, her mind will shatter if she sees you and we need her to hang on."

Everything within him was telling him to ignore her, even his shadows were screaming at the notion of not being able to be near you, they had always yearned for you, sought you out at every moment. Their entire spirit had dulled since the night you had left, like they were the first to know that you had denounced your place and title, they had curled down his spine and shuddered at the loss, and only became frantic the moment you had been dragged back into Velaris wearing those awful collars.

Azriel inhaled deeply, staring ahead at the pitch black hallway before resting his gaze on Feyre and offering his arm, "Let's get you out of here, we both have work to do."

Tamlin had always found a certain solace when visiting the Autumn Court, there was something about it that comforted him; he always thought it was the way the sun would kiss the browning leaves that had fell upon the grass, or that unique warmth spreading across the land like a blanket and weaving between the trees, breathing life into everything that it touched.

The High Lord of Spring had been surprised when he had received the note from Lucien, a twin to the one sent for Helion, but as soon as he saw the mention of you, Tamlin instantly agreed to the request to descend upon the Autumn Court. Though, what surprised him more was that he had been invited to the private residence of Fir Manor for the meeting, which meant that the matter was too important to speak of in a fortress of deceptive ears.

Fir Manor was a truly beautiful estate, towering oak beams encased by vines and delicate flowers, pale brickwork and a thatched but sturdy roof, large windows that oozed comfort, and gardens littered with fountains and the faint chipper of birds as they soared from branch to branch. Stones clashed beneath his feet, the sound alerting the inhabitants of the home to his presence; he wasn't exactly late, but by the faint scent of musk and petrichor Tamlin knew that Helion was already in the confinements of the manor.

The door opened as Tamlin stepped onto the porch, drinking in the wicker chairs facing outward to the pond, a blanket draped across the back that told him that it was someone's favourite spot. Nesta appeared before him, she seemed unphased by his presence, but her eyes were thankful and full of relief, "Tamlin," she greeted in monotone, she wouldn't forget what he had done to Feyre, but if he could help you then she could certainly forgive him for it.

"Nesta," Tamlin greeted with equal tone, wary of Lady Death in all of her glory. Nesta was poised, her shoulders straightened as she observed him; she stepped to the side so that he may be able enter, and he angled past her.

The interior was just as charming as the exterior, a log fire burned at the centre of the far wall, exposed wooden beams loomed overhead that connected to the coffee hued walls littered with golden embellishments; the seating area was rooted in place, large feather cushions sat atop plush red wine seating, and an array of artworks kissed the walls.

A faint scent clung to the air, one that Tamlin immediately recognised as yours, but it was a whisper on the atmosphere, like the home was clutching onto it, trying to inhale it into its bones so that an aspect of you might live with it for eternity. "Tamlin. Thank you for coming," Eris spoke from by the fire.

Noting his dishevelled appearance, Tamlin frowned, speckles of mud splayed up his riding boots, no doubt from a hasty morning ride through the forest. Eris' hair was messy and eyes weary and full of worry, the amber whisky hue dimming with every wrenching thought that shook through his mind.

Something was very off about the High Lord, and Tamlin couldn't quite put it together. He took the seat beside Helion, greeting him with the same pallid politeness before moving his gaze over to Lucien who nodded stiffly in his direction.

Tamlin returned the action and then allowed his eyes to wander about the room, noting all of its inhabitants, and then finding himself thinking of you and the intoxicating scent he often thought of. It was no secret that Tamlin held some form of affection toward you, he, like Eris, had grown up around you, seeing you grow and flourish into the impressive woman that you had become.

"Where is y/n? The note mentioned her, I thought she'd be here."

Eris visibly tensed at the question, squeezing his eyes shut and sighing before crossing the small space between the fire and the closest armchair and finding comfort within it, "Rhys has her."

The High Lord of Day frowned and moved from his lax position on the seat, leaning forward and examining the ire within the Autumn male, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Much like Tamlin did, Helion also thought very fondly of you, he enjoyed the wit and sass that radiated from you as well as the way you carried yourself, dangerously sultry yet elegant. Helion had asked Rhys for your hand multiple times, believing that you would make the finest High Lady, and his patience wavering each time he was shot down. Though, that didn't halt Helion from seeking you out at every dinner party or ball, he enjoyed your company greatly, as much as he enjoyed that beautifully knowledgeable mind you kept under lock and key.

"The day of your birthday, y/n found out that Rhys had sought to lock her away in Velaris for her entire life simply because she was more powerful than him, because her power threatened his position. Rhys used her to do his bidding, to be the terrifying monster of Velaris, he used her to threaten his enemies, but she was never able to leave the court without supervision. Rhys made y/n into a prisoner and she didn't even realise it," Eris recounted the knowledge as well as the pain in your face the moment you had figured out what he had done, "That night, y/n denounced her home and title and joined me here, Nesta, Elain and Lucien followed soon after."

"Rhys found her at the boarder to Winter whilst she was exploring, didn't realise how far she had strayed," Eris shook his head softly and inhaled deeply before he continued on, "He threatened us, he told her that he would kill us all if she didn't return, using the eons old Night Court tradition that an unmated female was the property of her family until they decided who to bestow her hand to."

Eris dragged his thumb over his bottom lip, trying to remember the way yours melted into his and the way they tasted on his tongue. It was difficult to ignore the bond that had opened within him, every inch of his essence was begging him to infiltrate the Night Court and save you, but his mind knew how dangerous that would be; if Rhys even caught one whiff of him then he would commit any manner of gut-wrenching acts upon you.

"And she's there now?" Helion enquired, the gold of his headpiece reflecting in the sunlight, scattering a glow across the ceiling, "Do we know if she is alive?"

The mere thought of you six feet underground made fury blaze within him, it was clear by how his entire body clenched, "We believe that she is, but we have no way of knowing," Nesta spoke for him from her seat to his side, "Rhys would have punished her for defecting, how, we don't know but we do know that he wouldn't have allowed her to continue on with her old life there. All of our contacts in the Night Court have been silent, there have been little to no whisperings of her, the only thing they know is that she has been said to be sick and is on strict orders to rest."

A blatant lie.

Throughout the entire display of information, Tamlin couldn't keep his eyes off of Eris, noting the way he shuffled in his seat and how his fingers would occasionally drift over his chest. Not needing to listen to Nesta for another moment longer, Tamlin cut through her words, "If you want our help then you will tell us the truth."

Eris' orbs burned, sticking to Tamlin with anguish before moving to Nesta, Eris nodded curtly and only once, a silent permission to divulge whatever it was that they were hiding. Nesta sighed, "There is a demon living within y/n. Amarantha placed it there the night she stole her wings Under The Mountain, she wanted to use y/n as a host, and if not y/n then the first child she could produce," Helion inhaled sharply, not expecting anything of the sort to ever be spoken in his lifetime. "That's not all," her voice drifted off but she didn't look to Eris, it was important that Tamlin and Helion knew everything, "Rhys also removed memories from both Eris and y/n, of the time they spent together throughout the years, of the love they shared."

A secret love that no one should have known of, but someone had sold you both out.

Helion's eyes drifted closed as he attempted to process the information. There was a demon living inside of the woman he admired. Rhys had taken you as a prisoner. Rhys had removed all memories of you and Eris from one another's minds. You and Eris loved one another. "You're her mate, aren't you?"

A gruff hum filled the void, "Yes. We are also Carranam."

Tamlin had heard of it, once, which told him that such a thing was a rarity, "Carranam," the word rolled off of his tongue, and he knew from the way Helion tensed beside him that he too knew what it meant. A bond that ran deeper than a mating bond, a bond that made the mating bond seem pale in comparison, "Rhys took your memories from one another so that her power couldn't be amplified by you, and then confined her to the Night Court so that she would never find out. A prisoner in her own home."

It was barbaric. To steal your chance of love away from you and confine you to your home court, and then have the gall to spread word of your monstrosity across the continent.

"I can't feel her," Eris strained, doing his best not to choke on the pain of the void dwelling within his soul, "He's done something to her, I know it."

Before them sat a male completely wracked by guilt and worry, who was clearly struggling to sleep, whose entire court was mourning the loss of you. Lucien was right, they couldn't sit by and allow history to paint this image of your demise.

"You're right," a genteel voice drifted from the doorway, the pop of red hair had Nesta rising from her seat almost immediately. The woman removed her hood, her red braid sweeping over her shoulders and blue eyes frantic, "I'm sorry that I couldn't send word, I couldn't trust anyone else with this information."

Nesta crossed the room, "Gwyn, what are you doing here?"

Gwyn was as pallid as a bedsheet drifting in the summer breeze, exhaustion fell from her, "Y/N sent me, and I brought you this," Gwyn presented a book from under her cloak, not just any book, it was the tome Amarantha had written that depicted every single thing that she knew of you, "I came as soon as I could."

"Y/N sent you?"

The woman nodded toward Eris, her lips curling downward, "She did. She asked me to deliver a message," her bottom lip wobbled slightly, "She asked me to tell you that she loves you, all of you," she emphasised, her sight flickering to Elain and Lucien, "She asked me to tell you that no matter what happens to her that there is no place you could go where she wouldn't be with you."

The final words of a woman losing the fight.

No.

Eris stood, "Where is she?"

The tone of his voice made the temperature of the manor rise, and the walls vibrated with it, "Rhys, what he's done - I can't serve anyone like that. I refuse."

Nesta grasped her friends forearms, willing her to focus, "I need you tell us where she is, and what has happened to her, Gwyn. Now."

"Rhys hired someone to manufacture some kind of collars, they've melted into her skin, they've drained her of all of her power and life, she's completely defenceless now. Cassian is trying to help her, so are Mor and Amren, they all know that he's gone mad. I don't think that she can hold on for much longer," Gwyn blinked hard, washing away the images of your thinning body and grey skin from her mind, "Rhys has moved her to the prison, Azriel told him that he saw Tamlin and Helion enter the Autumn Court and he moved her there as punishment."

Nesta dropped Gwyn's arms and stumbled backward, the dread and terror pooling into her gut at the image of you shivering in a cell. Alone and believing that no one was coming for you.

Eris reached into that bond, tugging at it harder and allowed part of himself to travel with it, almost whimpering when it was met by a wall of agony and darkness, pinging back to him like an injured animal searching for comfort.

"Call the meeting," Silence followed Nesta's dangerously low voice, and it only irked her fury more, "Call the fucking meeting," Nesta turned to Helion who had taken the book from Gwyn, he was flitting through the pages, his eyes pouring over every word and rune etched upon the pages. "If you care about her at all, you will do it. If you don't then I will destroy you, Helion. She'll die in there."

It had to be Helion. Rhys would find disrespecting Tamlin too joyous, but he wouldn't dare to show the same disrespect to Helion, not if he wanted their courts to continue their alliance, not if he wanted to avoid an all out war.

Helion's gaze lifted from the tome, his heart rumbling with what lined the pages, "Consider it done," he rose from his seat, his white tunic pooling at his sandalled ankles, "I'm taking this, I think there may be a code in this book which will help us free her of that demon."

The High Lord of Spring also stood, anger coursing through his veins at the revelation that one of the few people who ever truly saw him was locked away and suffering in one of the most inhumane places on the continent. It didn't matter to Tamlin that your mate was Eris, despite the tinge of jealousy that swarmed him that Eris was the one who able to call you his, all that mattered to Tamlin was that you were free and healthy, that you had the choice to be whatever you wanted to be. "It may take a couple of days, please try to be patient. I know that it's a ridiculous ask but we all need to prepare, and give the other High Lords time to respond to the request. We'll need all of them."

Approaching Eris, Tamlin rested a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry that this has happened to you," his words were solemn but he was being truthful, "We will return her to you, and we will do everything that we can to free her from the demon inside of her. I promise you."

Wasting no time, Helion muttered a short farewell, clutching the tome to his chest and winnowing from sight, hurrying to send the request to the High Lords of the continent to ascend upon the Day Court Palace as a matter of urgency.

Moments later, Tamlin also said his goodbyes, strolling from the hearth of the manor toward the boarder where Spring met Autumn, doing his best not to listen to the gut wrenching roar that erupted from Eris the moment he stepped beyond the treeline.

Author's Note

Breaking my own heart right now 🥺

Also very sorry for the delay, haven’t been very well recently so just been trying to recover 🫶🏻

Taglist

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[keen-li]

Cause I'm bored duh!🌸

Synopsis: Took one fuckin' look at your face

Now I wanna know how you taste

Actin' all innocent, please

When I know you out here thinkin' 'bout it

Then you realize she's right there.

And you're at home like, "Damn, she can't compare"

Warnings: cheating jk, yn is promiscuous, jk is a simp. Yn is a maneater and boyfriend snatcher. Yn is honestly a siren that calls you in and i'd fall too. Cocky and confident reader. Jungkook is delusional if you squint. Oral sex (female recieving), public oral sex.

Jk x fem reader

A/n: idk lol

☆`▪︎°▪︎`☆

You first noticed him when the blonde attached to his arm giggled obnoxiously. So loud you could hear it from where you were sat even through the booming music.

A little reserved but with looks that could kill. Dark hair in a center part framing his face. Tattoos crawling up his arm. Toned muscular figure probably hidden under those baggy clothes of his.

Just your type.

"He's cute don't you think?" You say to your friend next to you, just as reckless.

"He is" she eyes him as well and he doesn't notice your eyes prying cause of the distance and how his 'girlfriend' seems to call his attention. He looks annoyed with it, but you're no psychic.

"you think that's his girlfriend?" You both eye the blonde girl who doesn't notice the uneasy look on her boyfriend's(?) face caused by the over enthusiastic touches.

"I think so" she says and you smirk.

"I going to talk to him" you say determined eyes locked on him and a sly smirk plasterd along with it.

You stand off the stool you were sat on.

"What! He's got a girlfriend" she exclaims chuckling as she does.

You deadpan her. "When has that ever stopped me?" The lopsided smile that grows on your face is malicious. Your friend knows you too well and knows how this is going to end. But it's not like she's any better.

Birds of a feather flock together right?

"Oh look! He's coming to me" you say patting yourself on the back smiling at the lack of effort put in. Shit like this needs to be low effort, too much effort makes you look desperate.

You watch his figure walk, not to you but towards the bar. And when he gets there he takes a seat and orders a drink. He looks like trying to get some air away from his girlfriend. And you wouldn't blame him, she looks tiring.

With right stiletto heel first you walk to him. At first you don't speak just wait for him to get accustomed to your presence.

"...just one. " you say,with your soft voice at the bartender enormoured by you. He could barely look away from you even whilst making other drinks but especially when making yours. He tries to make a move to hold a conversation with you but you brush it away.

You've got better things to do.

"You look lonely" you state talking to the man you've had your eyes on and only staring at him through your peripheral vision.

He's confused about whether you're talking to him or not and when you turn to face him he acknowledges your question with a chuckle.

"The club isn't the place to be lonely" you say voice coy and he fully turns his body to yours whilst your body and eyes are still away from him.

"So tell me why do you look lonely?"

Maybe it was cause of your confidence or beauty and aura but he couldn't find it in himself to respond. The words stopped by his throat instead.

"I don't know maybe cause i am" he manages to say voice not as confident as yours.

"Why is that?" You turn your crossed legs to him and your shoe grazes his leg. The actions draws his eyes to your legs and they soon move up to stare at the skin showing from your dress riding up.

You watch as he eyes you and you internally smirk at how obvious and easy him and other men are. This always goes the same way.

"No girls to make your night?" you assume. "Or maybe you don't like girls" you raise a brow at him. If that was the case then your efforts would go in vain and that would make you sad. He's so cute.

"Its not that." He shakes his head a smile forming as well. "Maybe not the right one has introduced themselves." That's the only statement he says sounding a little confident and sure in himself.

You smile. He melts.

"Yn. Whats your name." You hold out your hand.

"Jungkook. " He takes it. It's weird to be shaking hands with someone in the club but you've found that even the smallest of touches can make men weak. And youre definitely sure it makes your new interest weak as fuck. "Nice to meet you yn" he holds your hand a little longer than necessary. But soon you're pulling it away and seeing the embarrassment form on his face when he realises.

"You should finish your drink so you can get on the dance floor" you say before he can get an apology out.

You stand from the stool and wait for him to follow.

And like a puppy he quickly downs his drink and follows you. You don't down your own and just leave it for the man who's been staring at your interaction to clean it up.

You walk in front of jungkook and pull his hand to the dance floor. Immediately you're in a comfortable spot on the dance floor you pull jungkook's hands to your waist and yours around his neck. He's taken by surprise but he definitely likes this. Likes how confident you are and how you take charge.

He likes how you pull him closer to you and the way your hips feel under his palms. The way you sway and the way you grind on him, your body moving with the music.

He's lost for words, lost of any thoughts, just let's your bodies move and enjoy your presence. Enjoy the way your body feels around him.

"Are you usually this shy?" You tease him for how reluctant he is to touch and hold you.

"N-no" he stutters, your face close to his. He's normally the more forward and confident but for you, he's not able to be that. You just seem to have a hold on him.

"Then show me" you move to his ear. "Take charge." You whisper by his ear, testing him.

It's like fire to gasoline and he's caught aflame.

He turns your body around so that your back is on your chest and your ass on his crotch.

"You like men who take charge?" He asks by your ear.

"Yeah i do" you whisper back with a smirk.

His hands get more comfortable on your body as they roam with the music. You grind against his crotch and he almost moans at the feeling.

Fuck.

He should be with his girlfriend and friends at the table by now, but no. He's here dancing with a woman he's just met and has him driven crazy like he's known her for forever.

Dancing with a woman like he's in his single years. Dancing with a woman so close like he's a single man. Feeling her body and taking in her scent like a single man. An erection growing for her like a single man. Kissing her neck like a single man.

For whatever reason he can't stop himself, he's enjoying this, enjoying you. And he doesn't care if his friends or girlfriend spot him from where they are sat. But they won't, too intoxicated. Plus the dance floor's filled with too many bodies.

Your bodies continue to move with the music and sink more into eachother. You take inmhis scent, thay dark masculine scent that makes you weak.

You're enjoying dancing with him and all, but you want more. Want to see what that pretty face can offer. So you turn to face him.

"There's a private bathroom up top if you wa-"

"YES" jungkook says a little too rushed causing you to smirk as you pull him to said bathroom.

As you walk he turns to look back and notice his girlfriend look around a little worried but she doesn't spot him.

"Let's be quick" jungkook says as he rushes.

"Someone's a little too eager"

He just smirks. He won't lie he is eager for such an opportunity. A chance to do whatever with such an attractive woman.

"Fuck" you groan as jungkook abruptly shuts the door and pushes you against it to connect your lips. "You're so needy and desperate." You say allowing him to kiss your neck.

You would've never thought he'd be this eager, for someone with a girlfriend too. Normally it takes more effort on your part.

The private bathroom is empty and clean, perfect place for jungkook and you.

"Are you some kind of witch?" He asks as he drinks away at your tongue. "You have me wrapped around your finger and i barely know you" you smirk into the kiss at his confession.

"I get told that alot" you feel his hands touch every part of your body. Around your thighs, around your neck, around your torso. He touches your everywhere like a needy bunny and you just chuckle.

"So you sleep around much?" He asks and you would take offence but you don't have time. And you honestly don't care.

"I try" you chuckle.

Jungkook doesn't care about that right now he just wants more of you in the little time he has before his girlfriend begins calling his phone.

"Come here" he says as he lifts you off the ground and places you on the bathroom counter.

"Fucking pretty" he says when he gets a view of your legs parted.

"Like what you see?" You ask with a smirk.

"Fucking love it " He pulls you legs wider on his shoulder and you feel the cold blow in your core.

"Dont stare too long" you sit up on your elbows and watch how enormoured he is by your pussy. Dripping and wet. And probably warm too. He wants to fucking taste you.

He feels his pocket vibrate and he groans. It's probably his girlfriend.

Instead of pulling out the device to respond he moves his lips to immediately make out with yours.

"Shit.." you moan at how intensely he drinks all your wetness.

"So fucking good" he licks another long strip. "Could eat this all day"

You feel your hole clench at his words, as it craves attention and jungkook is glad to give it some with his long digits.

"So fucking tight" he says pumping his fingers into you, his warm breath fanning your center.

This is so fucking weird some would say. But you just had to take a chance on jungkook. Cause he's in a relationship you'll probably never get to see him again. So make of it while it lasts.

"So fucking good" he continues to hum against your pussy and his moans cause vibrations to your core, adding more pleasure to the one he's already giving you.

Feels so good to have someone hungry and desperate to eat your cunt, can you really give this up?

He's so desperate and needy to please you. Make a good first impression. This could have you thinking about him even when you're with someone else. If he's so good when drunk what more when he's sober.

This is a one time thing no need to think too much into the future.

Jungkook feels his phone vibrate once more then twice and he knows time is running out. Soon she'll be calling.

"So fucking pretty even when eating me out" you say as you pull his hair out of his face to get a view of him.

He smiles against your pussy as he feels another vibration in his pocket and groans in frustration.

In a plea to get you to come quickly, he licks on your clit for more stimulation. Tongue gripping at it.

You gasp for air when you feel him suck on your bud. Tongue lingering long on it.

With his tongue sucking your clit and fingers pumping into you you can feel your walls clench and that intense feeling approach.

"Do you think you can come for me baby?" He asks and you nod. You laugh at how he just throws out the pet name, do you have him that wrapped.

Jungkook's never done this before, and he's never thought he'd do it. But damn it feels good. You feel so good . How your warm walls pull him in makes him want to stay in forever.

He quickens his pace and you cry out in pleasure.

"Jungkook...." you call out his name and he wishes he could hear more of it but time isn't on his side.

"Come for me baby" is what he says before you're tipping over the edge and coming all over his tongue and leaving it for him to clean up.

Why the fuck did you let some dude tell you what to do.

Once you're down from your high you come to your senses.

You straighten your dress back down to it's mini level as you watch jungkook pull out his phone to reply to a text. The boner from eating you out prominent and your mouth waters. Fucking hell, why do you want to suck his dick. You got what you wanted now forget it.

"I have to go" He says even though he doesn't want to go. "It was nice talking to you yn"

He says shy smile on display for you.

You want to walk out but then he calls out for you in a hurry. He doesn't want you to get way, this moment was too short and it has him dreaming of longer and more sober nights, where you can enjoy yourselves. Where he can drink more of you. Where maybe he can feel more of you.

So little of you has ruined so much of him. And he wants you to ruin more of him.

"Can i- can I get your number?" He pouts and shows his phone to you. You eyes land in his home screen. And a picture of him and the blonde.

You smirk.

"No"

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hi, could you write headcanons about 141 + könig with a femreader who has a lichtenberg scar? 🫶🏻

That’s metal af I love it! For those who are unfamiliar this is what they look like (from what I could read online, they go away after 24-48 hours but tend to leave some tenderness behind so for the sake of the prompt, we’ll ignore that!❤️)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Goddess? Goddess. He’s got some crazy scars but they pale in comparison to the pattern on your back

Sweet lord the first time he saw it, he was in shock, mind racing a million miles a minute, his first thought being that someone did this to you and he was ready to turn the world into ashes just to find them

As soon as you explain to him that it was in fact lightning that created the scars, for the first time in his life his jaw goes slack and he is at a loss for words

His fingers run over the patterns with a feather light gentleness that no one (but you) could ever attribute to him, his cold fingers soothe the warm skin and you can’t help but close your eyes and enjoy the sensation

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He already thinks you’re otherworldly, but after seeing your scars, you’re downright ethereal

At first he thought the fern-like patterns on your arm were a tattoo, it wasn’t until he ran his fingers over it that he realized it was a scar

Like Ghost, his knee jerk reaction is to jump to the conclusion that someone hurt you and he feels awful for thinking it was a tattoo, but when you explain that it was from a lightning strike, he doesn’t believe you

“Bonnie, do you know how astronomically unlucky you have to be to get struck by lightning?” (Just show him the pictures you first took after it happened and the discharges from the ER and he’ll shut up)

His favorite thing to do is run his fingers over the patterns, especially when you’re lounging together, whether it’s on the couch or in bed, he is mesmerized

John Price:

He’s heard of them but he’s never seen them in person, at least until he met you and he saw the pattern peeking out from under your shirt

Since he’s heard of them, he’s not as surprised that it’s from lightning, he’s more shocked that it happened to you of all people

He understands that it can get sore so he’ll offer to help rub a soothing cream into the raised skin on your chest

He warms his hands before applying the lotion and he gently glides his fingers up and down the weaving patterns, his palm soothing the aching skin, his eyes unable to leave the intricate patterns on your chest, he’s in awe of you

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

Holy shit, love, he thinks you’re positively glowing, a literal goddess among men, you are an anomaly, a one in a million chance personified

Body worship? Body worship.

He is watching you as you explain it with stars in his eyes, his fingers are tracing the patterns on your leg, he is hypnotized

He’s kissing every inch, and massaging the areas his lips can’t reach, and when your scars to ache he’s right there, ready to soothe the skin with some lotion and light touches

König:

He’s heard of them but he’s never seen them in person, honestly he wrote them off as being something that happens in movies, if that

Even when he sees the pattern on your arm, he thinks it’s a tattoo and very confidently compliments it

However, when you gently tell him it’s actually a scar you got from a lightning strike, he’s back peddling like his life depends on it

Please stop him before he talks himself to death, he will not take a single breath in between his apologies what was supposed to be an innocent compliment has definitely become a core memory poor guy

His heart is pounding when you take his massive hand in your smaller one and have him run his finger over the raised skin, he’s holding his breath, he’s in complete awe of you, liebling

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Crazy in Love | Han Jisung

Saw a post awhile back saying that they wanted to see a Jisung/Joker smut. I wrote this months ago but wasn't sure how I felt about it so it's just been sitting in my drafts. I wouldn't really say there's a plot with this one.

Synopsis: You're bored and wanna play. Who cares if J.One is in a meeting for world domination? It's never stopped you before. He'll ruin your makeup and end lives just fine.

Pairings: Crime boss Jisung x Female Reader

Content Includes: smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, Dom Jisung...sort of?, slight degradation and name calling, brief mention of violence and guns, hair pulling, I'm sure I forgot something lol

Want more smut? Follow the 🍌

“Mista J!” you sing-song, skipping into the room wearing nothing but a red and black lace bra and leather shorts too short to be considered anything but underwear.

Jisung sits surrounded by his worthless minions at the head of the table. They all pretend you don't exist, of course. Not one eye looks in your direction; if they did… well, their brains would decorate these four walls. Like the king he is, Jisung sits on a throne of premium leather that you were handed when you walked into the store. Really, the fancy schmancy furniture store just gave you whatever you pointed at. Okay, fine, maybe it had something to do with the two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns you held, but that's beside the point.

There's nothing too good for your Jisungie. There's not a thing you wouldn't do for this man. You would die for him, you would kill for him, raise hell with him, making the city cower as king and queen. You love every moment of it. Straddling and looking pretty on Jisung's lap, you kiss him. It’s sweet on your end, but he takes it a step further, making it hot and messy, drawing porn-worthy moans from you.

"Mmm, Mista J.One… If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fuck me on this table right in front of everyone," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He responds with a wicked, deadly grin that sends a rush of heat to your core.

"Lovely, I had to kill at least a dozen men after the last time. I can't risk that happening now, can I, pet?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flick up to the center of the room where his men sit, the intensity of his gaze daring any of them to look in your direction.

The way he glares, daring anyone to even glance at you, thrills you to your core. The reckless and dangerous aura he exudes turns you on, knowing he's willing to burn the entire world down for you, taking down anyone who dares to look at you. You pout and wiggle your hips, a soft whine escaping your lips as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you.

“Let me play, baby,” you whisper, leaning into him and licking the heart-shaped spider web tattoo on his neck.

He groans and shivers, bucking his hips up, making you squeal with delight and lust as his zipper brushes against your cunt. The damned leather is getting in the way of feeling more than you want, but that's okay; your mind is set on something bigger and better. You wriggle again, and he growls, the sound reverberating deep within you. Any other person would be scared, but you eat it up, craving more.

“What are you waiting for, lovely? Get on your knees for me,” he demands, his voice soft and dark, like feathers on a raven.

You almost fly up from his lap with excitement, hurrying to kneel between his thighs, looking up at him through your long lashes. The thing about this throne that caught your eye was the little footrest it came with. It's your favorite spot. Some days you sit there just waiting for him to use you any way he pleases. Your excited, maniacal giggles echo throughout the room as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you swing the garment around your head like a lasso, letting it fly free. You have no clue where it lands, but from the sounds of it, it seems to have landed on some poor guy's head.

Jisung smirks and cocks his head to the side, slowly looking in the direction of the unfortunate soul. "Oopsie," you whisper, reaching out to unwrap the present in front of you.

When Ji is satisfied that the man won't move, he looks down at you with his cock in your hands. You marvel at the size, as always, appreciating him, worshiping every inch of him. With loose fingers, you guide your hand up the length of his cock, feeling the heat radiate from the impressive muscle. Your mouth waters in anticipation and you smile up at him.

"Oh, Mista J, you're so hard for y/n." you purr, your mouth getting closer to the head of Jisung's cock.

The leather squeaks when he grips the arm of the chair, letting you take the lead... for now. You are his queen, after all—his beautiful nightmare. Damn it, if he didn’t have to go through with this fucking meeting, you would be bent over the table, drooling while he pounded his cock into every one of your fucking holes. Jisung is pissed, but only a little. These fuckers in the room better not dare look at you while his trigger finger is itchy.

With a wave of his hand, the meeting resumes, and you can hear the men shift uncomfortably, speaking about whatever plan for world domination Jisung's genius mind concocted. You ignore it all, too focused on watching the precum increase the more you play with Ji’s cock. So much more fun than any video game you were playing moments ago. You need him to make a mess of your makeup.

Every touch, every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through both of you. Jisung’s eyes, dark and intense, flicker with a blend of rage and lust as he watches you. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption, held back by the thinnest thread of control. Your breath shakes as you feel the weight of his cock in your hand, the slickness of his precum making each movement smoother, more urgent.

He exhales sharply, a barely audible groan escaping his lips. The power you hold over him in this moment is exhilarating, each pump of your hand drawing a reaction from him.

"Such a pretty cock you have, Ji," you whisper, blowing cool air over him. You watch with delight as he makes it bounce for you, the sight eliciting a soft, approving hum from your lips.

More crazed laughter from you rings out through the room, and Jisung loves it. He revels in the way you make the men in the room flinch. They're just dying to look at you, their fear mingling with desire.

"All the better to fuck your pretty mouth with, y/n, and that pretty cunt of yours," he replies, putting a crude emphasis on the word "cunt" and laughing loudly.

His laughter is just as insane as yours, but far more psychotic and unhinged. That's because he is certifiably insane. You would know; you're the one who diagnosed him. His psychosis, however, makes you feel safe. It's almost as if it connects you two in a way that psychology cannot explain. The two of you put on a show for the men in the room, mentally synchronized and wondering who will be the first to break. Knowing that cold steel is right underneath the chair, Jisung will make quick work of eliminating the weakest one.

When you flick your tongue out to lap up the liquid that now coats the tip of his cock, he shudders and leans his head back, licking his lips. The voices around the room waver, but they continue as if you aren't here. Good boys. Now it's time for Jisung to be a good boy for you and lose his mind. You gasp in delight and lick your lips, humming.

“Mmm, so tasty. Whaddya say, J One? Can I be greedy tonight?” Batting your lashes up at him, you grin.

His hand grabs the back of your neck tightly, but not uncomfortably, and he leans down, getting closer to your ear.

“Take it all and leave no drop behind, and you'll get a reward for being so good.” He slams his mouth onto yours in a crushing kiss, both physically and spiritually.

He leans back, fingers massaging your scalp, petting you while watching whatever presentation his men are rambling about. Your tongue gets to work, starting at the base, trailing up and over every ridge and vein along his cock. You lick every surface, coating him and savoring how his hands begin to become less caressing and more rough. The sound of voices fades into the background. All your focus is on Jisung and his cock now.

Heavy and warm against your tongue, you take him deeper and deeper, further than you've ever allowed yourself to go. He lets out a slow, deep groan and fists your hair when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat, and you keep going. It's hard to focus on your breathing, to keep it steady and even, when he's making those sounds. You've never heard him sound as desperate as he does now. He doesn't care who hears him or sees him vulnerable like this though. Only an idiot would use this moment against him.

The feel of his fingers tightening in your hair, the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations of his groans echoing through your body, it's better than any psychedelic drug in the world to you. You can feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the way his hips involuntarily twitch, seeking more of the pleasure you're giving him. Jisung's breaths become ragged, his control slipping with each movement of your tongue and each press of your lips.

“Shit, lovely. Fuck, mm.” he whispers, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to survey the room.

You know there's no way he's paying attention to anything but your lips wrapped around him, and you're right. Jisung couldn't care less if anyone was watching; he'd check the footage from the cameras later and deal with anyone who thought it was a good idea to watch you suck him off. For now, he loves how amazing you feel as you force his cock deeper down your throat. He doesn't mean to make the noises he does, but how could he hold them back when his queen loves hearing him be so vocal? He can feel your smirk, knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, savoring the taste and the way his body tenses with each movement. Every moan and groan that escapes his lips fuels your determination to take him deeper, to push him further into ecstasy. His hands fist your hair more gripping it tightly, to steel himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

"That's my lovely baby. Ah—yeah, gonna fuck you till you can't stand later, y/n. Do you hear me?"

You hum in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers through his body. He whines and growls, balling his free hand into a tight fist, so tight that his knuckles start to turn white.

"Fuck, babe… gah!" He stiffens his legs, forcing himself not to buck up and make you choke on his length. He wants to wait until you've taken him all the way down your throat for that. "Ke-keep going. Yeah, nice and s... s-slow," he continues in a husky, breathy whisper.

Once you have every inch of him in your mouth, he waits for you to pull up a couple of inches before forcing your head back down. You gag and cough as he repeats the motion again and again. Your eyes water, and tears stream down your face from the relentless thrusting of his cock hitting your throat. He's fucking your face now, using your mouth like a fleshlight, controlling you by your hair. And you're soaking through your panties, coating the leather shorts with your arousal.

“Fuck, mm! Y/n... wrap your lips tighter. Mhm, just like that, baby. That's a good girl.”

You want to rub your clit so badly, but you'll topple over backward if you let go of the hold you have on Jisung's thighs. So, you squeeze your legs together tightly, releasing over and over while Ji has his way with you. His pre-cum oozes down your throat, steadily leaking like a faucet. The friction you're creating feels so good you could cum just from that. Your moans vibrate more, sending him into a feral frenzy. He feels his balls tighten, and he gets louder, grunting each time he rams his cock down your throat.

Jisung filling your mouth completely so harsh and fast is overwhelming. You can taste the salty tang of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva, creating a slick, warmth that coats your tongue. Each thrust makes your pussy ache with need, the pressure in your core building feeling almost unbearable. The heat of his body, the firm grip on your hair, makes your head spin.

His thrusts become more erratic and his grunts turn into desperate moans. You can feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue, the way it twitches and hardens even more.

“Daddy's little monster sucks cock so good. Isn't that right, gentlemen?!” Jisung questions loudly. A few agree hesitantly, not knowing how to answer, and those few would be gone by morning.

Why? Because how would they know that you're good if they weren't watching your performance? Jisung is a smart man; most psychopaths are. With a smirk and a moan, he thrusts upwards while pushing your head down into his lap. Your makeup is a mess, just the way you wanted. Tear streaks run down your face, and you're satisfied with your appearance. You'll be even more satisfied when he cums and even more so when he fucks you later.

“Every. Drop. Y/n. Swallow every fucking drop I'm about to give you. You ready, baby? I'm so fucking close.” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and his grip on your hair tightens painfully making you wince.

His hips jerk as he forces you down, the rough fabric of his pants scratching your cheeks, adding to your ruined face. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his increasingly erratic thrusts. The sounds of his grunts and your muffled moans create a symphony of depravity echoing off the walls.

Jisung's mind is a funhouse of madness. If you were to open it up right now, the maniac's mind would be full of murder, mayhem, and you. It's a joke the way you make him feel—the best joke ever. How hilarious it is that a woman like you can make him weak, make him shiver all over, and become a moaning, whining mess. Your lips look so tantalizingly puffed out around him he almost wants to coat them with his cum, but he did say for you to swallow every drop, and he's a man of his word. He sees everything through, no matter how tempting it is. The humming you're doing on his cock is driving him madder than he already is. Oh god, do your lips feel so good to him. Jisung growls deep in his throat, a guttural sound that signals his impending climax.

“Take it, baby. Take it, y/n. Right. Fucking. Now. Oh, fuck!” His hands force your head down as he shoots rope after rope after rope of cum down your throat.

It hits the back of your throat forcefully and pools there until you relax, letting the warm, salty liquid easily go down. You swallow every drop he gives you, just like he told you to, the action drawing a final shuddering moan from him. Another growl and he's quickly pulling your head back and picking you up. You gasp for air as he spins you around and lays your stomach flat against the hard white surface of the table.

“GET OUT!” he yells, and every man in the room scatters. The one with your bra still on his head tosses it onto the table with shaky hands, sporting a very uncomfortable-looking hard-on. “Fuck if I'm waiting to fuck you.”

Your tight shorts are forced down roughly, and he rams his cock into your cunt, making you scream. He’s rough, really rough, and his thrusts are fast, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain—mix the two, and you've got the base of you and Ji’s relationship.

“Harder, Jisung, ah! Fuck me harder, please.” you beg him, and he laughs maniacally again.

He smacks your ass before reaching around and grabbing you by the neck. The slapping sounds of your bodies coming together are so loud that they cover up your yelps of pain when he does as you asked. It hurts so good you become incoherent; you don't even hear Jisung when he says that this will be all you're good for. It's a joke, his best yet if he's honest with himself, which he won't be. He'll pretend that he keeps you around just to fuck but he knows Gotham only has one queen, and that's you. He just doesn't want to admit that the way your cunt holds him and pulls him in, is the reason for his insanity now.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, y/n.” his legs tremble with each long stroke inside you.

“C-cum, Jisung! Oh god, I'm there. Right… right…” Inhaling deeply, you let go, moaning loudly cumming on Jisung's cock and he follows you, filling your cunt.

“That’s my lovely—mmph! Filling your pussy to the brim. My sweet, deranged cum slut.” He pulls you back into him by your throat, finding your mouth and placing a possessive kiss on your lips. “Surrender your existence to me, y/n and let’s watch the world burn, darling.”

“Everything that I am, Mista J you already own. Let the ashes rain, baby!” You throw your head back with a crazed laugh and Jisung joins you, holding you tight in his arms.

✧ 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✧

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst

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[shadowdaddies]

Yes yes it’s me again 🤭 this one is much more simple than my other ones lol. I am really in the mood for just some sweet smut with Azriel. Maybe the reader is super sweet and quiet. And when they do it her touches are so gentle and soft and it drives azriel crazy because he’s so used to the torture and violence. Just some sweet fluffy smut of reader being super gentle with him.

hey bestie, I'm always down to write some love for Az. He deserves all the love imo💜

A Gentle Touch

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: super fluffy smut below the cut, oral m!receiving, p in sex, minors dni, not proofread

Padding out of your closet where you had changed into your nightgown, you walked over to where Azriel stood in front of the fireplace. He stared at his hands with disdain as he roughly massaged them - a telltale sign of a difficult day of work. Azriel was the kindest mate, one of the things you loved most about him was his grace and understanding that he showed towards others. He just never seemed to extend that grace to himself. 

Wrapping your arms around Azriel, you took his hands in your own, the soft graze of your thumbs against his scarred hands giving him instant relief as he sighed, relaxing in your hold. You gently guided him to sit in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, wordlessly helping him remove his leathers. You untied his top, setting the buckles and weapons to the side, and held his face in your hands. You looked at him with nothing but soft adoration as you rubbed gentle circles on his cheeks before pressing a feather-light kiss to each one. 

Azriel brought his hands to your bare thighs - callouses providing pleasant friction against your soft skin - as you brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through his soft, onyx locks, gently massaging as his head fell back against the seat of the chair, eyes drifting closed. He looked so beautiful and peaceful like this, you wished that you could stay in this moment with him forever.

You trailed the pads of your fingertips down his neck, tracing the swirls of the tattoos across his chest as you marveled at the male before you. You leaned in to press a gentle kiss over his heart, Azriel shuddering under your touch as he brought his hands up to wrap around you. He pulled your body flush against his, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Thank you,” he breathed, barely above a whisper. 

You pulled back to look at him once more, silver lining his beautiful hazel eyes. “Thank you for what, my love?” you questioned as you again brought a hand up to tuck loose hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, sighing again as he smiled softly. “The world is such a harsh place,” Azriel whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I am so thankful to be blessed by a mate who reminds me how soft it can be as well.”

Your heart softened at Azriel’s words, pulling him in for another hug as you kissed below his ear, holding him close to your warmth as you continued a path downward - kissing down his neck, licking along his collarbone to his chest, where you kissed him again. Looking up to see Azriel’s flushed state as he began breathing heavily, you kept eye contact, kissing your way all the way down to the ties of his leathers. 

Your nimble fingers untied his pants, soft hands running along the band as Azriel shifted his hips to help you pull them down. He was now bare before you, gloriously shining in the balance of the cool moonlight and warm fire, and you stopped for a moment to admire him, sending love down the bond as you ran your hands up his thighs, a faint smile playing at your lips as he sucked in a breath when you came close to his evident arousal.

Placing soft kisses on the insides of his thighs, you worked your way up towards Azriel’s cock, lolling your tongue out as you looked up at him with innocent doe eyes and flicked your tongue over the tip. He hissed, knuckles turning white as he gripped the armrests in an effort of restraint. Using one hand to guide him in your mouth, you swirled your tongue around the tip before sinking down, taking as much of Azriel as you could. 

He groaned leaning his head back as one hand threaded in your hair. Flattening your tongue against his shaft, you slowly drew back up, only to begin bobbing your head quickly as you brought your free hand to gently graze a prominent vein in his wing. Azriel groaned out your name, involuntarily thrusting up into you as you gagged on his length. He looked at you with concern, but you nodded in signal that you were okay, mumbling around his dick that you could take it. 

The vibrations set him off, Azriel pulling your mouth off of him, panting, “I need you, angel,” as he pulled you into his lap. You kissed him, letting Azriel taste himself on your tongue as you guided his cock to your entrance. You sank down on him, both of you releasing lewd moans at the feeling before Azriel held your hips, helping you bounce up and down on him. 

As both of you drew closer to your highs, Azriel’s thrusts became more frantic, you slumping against him for support as he hit so deep inside of you that you struggled to think. When Azriel licked his thumb, bringing it down to rub circles against your clit, you came undone around him, crying out his name as you buried your face in his neck. You left gentle kisses, rolling your hips as you knew Azriel liked, sending him over the edge shortly after you. 

Pulling back, you looked into Azriel’s eyes again and smiled brightly. “I love you,” you said, overwhelmed by the emotions you felt for Azriel as you kissed him again before climbing off his lap. “Follow me,” you whispered, leading him to the bathroom where you removed your nightgown and guided him to the bathtub, where you washed Azriel - your mate finding peace in your gentle touch, as you did in his.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Softcore

"Don't worry- I'll take it real slow with you so you know I mean it."

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

+ Additional Tags/Warnings: none, some flirting?

Length: who's counting anyways

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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"Damn, who's pissed in your breakfast this morning?" Jimin laughs, trying to joke- but it's clear that Jungkook is genuinely angry with his packmate, heated glare sent his way.

"I told you, you were being too mean yesterday!" Hoseok scolds, smacking the younger wolf on the back of his head. "Now you ruined jungkookie's fun last night." He mumbles, looking at the youngest apologetically-

Though the wolf sits up almost proudly, a sly smile growing on his lips as he chews his food.

"Looks like he still got his dick wet." Jimin laughs, making Jungkook growl.

"I wasn't out to get my dick wet you dog!" He argues, before crossing his arms. "Was just.. driving around." He shrugs.

"You." Taehyung raises a brown before he sits down at the table as well. "Just driving around." He continues, making the youngest roll his eyes.

"You act like I'm always up to something." He accuses, before his phone buzzes on the table, quickly snatched away by Jimin who grins brightly while fighting against Jungkook's reaching hands.

"Movie sounds great, do you have one in mind?" He reads the message out loud. "Oooh, Jungkookie has an actual date?!" He exclaims, before the youngest wolf can snatch his phone back.

"Shut up." He growls, before he gets up to put on his jacket and boots, turning around once more. "Don't fuck this up for me. Next time you see us, just shut your mouth." He requests awfully.. nervously almost, before he leaves, door closing behind him.

"You think he's found someone he likes?" Taehyung wonders, pulling Jungkook's leftovers toward him.

"Looks like it." Hoseok shrugs.

"Huh." Jimin huffs, leaning bag with an almost proud smile. "Would you look at that."

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Your apartment is cozy, small but very inviting, and most of all- it smells like you and you only, something that Jungkook enjoys a lot.

"Do you want me to dry your jacket?" You wonder, looking at him carefully taking off his wet jacket, since it's been pouring outside. Only now do you notice that, once he pulls off his beanie, it's the first time you see him like that.

Damn. Those tattoos really paint a full sleeve and some.

Not to mention the fact that his black sleeveless top hugs his body so tightly that it leaves almost nothing to the imagination- and in a way, that makes you a bit self-conscious. He seems like someone who works out a lot and often- would he think of you as less attractive once he notices you hide no defined physique underneath your clothes, but small rolls and chubby thighs?

Maybe. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Interestingly enough, it seems like Jungkook notices your change in mood- posture changing to appear less threatening to you, tail waving a little behind him to add to the appearance. It helps- if just a little.

"I mean- sure? If it's not a bother.." He answers your question, making you nod before you take the heavy jacket from him, glad to have something to distract yourself with.

"You can.. sit down? Or, I don't know- raid my fridge." You joke a bit stiff, before you flee the scene, hanging his jacket up in your little laundry room where your dryer has already warmed up the air, everything smelling of your favorite fabric softener. You actually sometimes take a nap in here, especially during winter- you're not sure why, but the smells and warmth offers you the bestest naps, especially when you sleep on your thick feather filled quilt.

It's an odd habit. Will he think you're weird if he finds out about that?

Once you return to your living room and kitchen space, you find Jungkook already looking inside the fridge, scanning the different snacks and drinks in there, visibly curious as his tail stands high. You can't help it, in that moment-

sneakily tugging just a little on the very tip, causing him to snap around, startled.

"Sorry!" You apologize immediately, shrinking back a little. "I- that was rude-" You start, when he wags his tail so much it smacks against the open fridge door, his laughter ringing through the small space of the apartment.

"No worries, was just caught off guard-" He reassures with a grin. "-you're really quiet. And those ears work really well!" He jokes, pointing to his pierced ear.

"Should I be louder then?" You wonder, reaching past him for a bottle of water. "So you can hear me?" You ask, and he looks at you for a second, before he chuckles, throwing his head back.

"You're so cute!" He barks out, before he closes your fridge, following you back towards your couch. And there, you sit as if you're being scolded almost- hugging your legs in the very corner, too shy to really be comfortable around him, and of course- he notices.

"What's making you uncomfortable right now?" He wonders, zapping through the recommended shows on your TV.

"Huh?" You ask, looking at him. "Nothing. I'm fine!" You laugh, though even that sounds more like you're just trying to pacify him, and it reminds him of one of his packmates' mates, back when she first met the whole group.

You're acting very similar. Intimidated, unsure where your place is. Trying not to step out of line.

"Hm, you're not." He chuckles, sitting back a little more relaxed. "Is it the tattoos? They're off-putting to some, my mom doesn't like them either." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension- something he craves out of pure instinct, because, considering his interest in you, he can't have his possible future mate be this uneasy around him.

He's supposed to be your person of safety and protection, someone you can and want to rely on- not someone you're scared of, in any way.

"No- not really." You shake your head, looking at them from the distance, noticing the colors and intricate details in some parts. "Just.. I don't know." You mumble.

"Is it the muscle?" He wonders, head tilting to the side a bit, and when you look away and adjust your position a little, he clicks his tongue. "Ah, please don't worry. I know how to control my strength!" He jokes playfully, but you shake your head. "No?"

"It's not.. that, at least not really?" You wonder, deciding that you better rip off the bandaid right now so it'll hurt less later. "You're just.. you look really fit, and I'm not. I'm lazy." You explain, without any demeaning tone thrown at yourself. "I don't really do any.. working out." You say, and he shrugs.

"Fine by me. It's your body, not mine." He offers, and you're unsure what to think about that statement.

Growing up, you learned from both your family and past friendships and relationships even, that every sentence uttered by mankind has some sort of second meaning. It created some sort of imposter syndrome for you in a way, as if every praise and compliment had some sort of background to it. Like you didn't deserve it- and people were simply too nice to tell you that blunt and openly.

So maybe it's not him saying that it's your choice and he doesn't mind it- but him saying that he's simply aware of the fact that he can't force you to do anything, but that he's glad he's not in your place. It's a far reach, and you know this- but the petty demon inside your head just won't shut up, ever.

Luckily however, the wolf next to you on the couch seems to have telepathic powers or something- or maybe he can smell your feelings? Because he immediately adds something to his words to soften up his statement. "The most important thing for me is that you're healthy and happy. I don't need anything else, really." He smiles encouragingly, and you shrug, before nodding.

"I guess." You just mumble, letting the awkward silence wash over you both while Jungkook chooses a movie, logging into his own account on your streaming service- something you notice. "You can just buy it-" You say, but he chuckles.

"Nop. Let me do that- I'd feel bad otherwise." He explains, buying the movie with his own money. So his last name is Jeon? You really didn't mean to look at it, but it's hard not to. It's when the movie starts that he leans a bit more onto your little sofa, opening his arms. "Can we cuddle?" He wonders, and you look at him a bit like a deer in the headlights. "I promise my friend down there will behave. I just wanna have you close- is that okay?" He wonders, and you shrug, unsure how to approach it.

Considering how long you've been living by yourself, you feel like you forgot how to properly.. cuddle at all. And it's like you just realize that right now- when was the last time you hugged someone? Held someone's hand? Or just sat close to someone else?

"You don't have to. I just.. wanna make you feel more at ease." He softly says, pausing the movie on the TV. "If you're not ready to be this close to me yet that's fine, and understandable. We can try another time-" He starts, but you shake your head.

"I just.. I've been living alone for a while now." You say, opening up at least a little bit. "I'm.. I don't know, it feels awkward now." You admit, and he nods, soaking up the info you give him.

"Alright, I can work with that." He smiles. "We can take it slow and easy, no issues." He shrugs, setting down his hands again.

And that's where they stay, as you both simply watch the movie-

Jungkook quietly leaving after you fall asleep, but not before putting a blanket from the couch over your body.

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"I can't promise you they won't be weird-" Jungkook chuckles through the speaker in your helmet- a new one now, that you suspect he might've bought just for you, because it's a lot smaller and fits way better than the other one you've been given before. "-but I'll keep them in check." he reassures you.

"Are you like, the leader?" You wonder, unsure, and he chuckles again, stopping at a red light.

"No, I'll tell you who's who when we're there- I'm just a regular member, nothing more nothing less." He shrugs, one of his hands leaving the handle of his bike to rest on your thigh next to his leg, running up and down absentmindedly. "Is that okay? Or too much?" He asks, looking back for a second, though you can't see his face with the helmet covering his head entirely.

"That's fine." You say, genuinely meaning it- and you can't see it, but he's grinning brightly at this small step forwards, tail wagging. He's noticed you leaning against his back a lot more this time, slowly seeming to grow more comfortable on his bike, even so much so that you've begun to instinctively sit in the proper way to make driving easy for him.

And he also really enjoys you clinging onto him not in fear but comfort- but that's besides the main point.

The moment you arrive, everyone already standing around with their own bikes or by themselves, it's very clear that Jungkook's whole.. adventures with you has made the round. People are whistling and laughing, but it's also clear that it's just to tease him, and not in bad nature. You can even hear someone cooing when Jungkook reaches out to help you take your helmet off, bike standing secure on the kickstand, his own helmet already having been taken off. "Don't mind them. I'm the youngest of the pack." He admits, and you nod, smiling.

"You'll handle it, I'm sure." You agree, and he grins proudly, before he helps you get off the bike.

"Oh look at them, this is so cute!" Someone laughs, commenting probably on the fact that Jungkook had taken your hand in his to maybe offer you some extra security- something you appreciate.

"Please stop, you're scaring her off." He whines, as someone walks up beside you.

"Jungkook's right. Leave him be." A tall guy says, before he looks at you kindly. "I'm namjoon- not sure if he's told you already, but I'm the pack leader here " he offers, and you nod in greeting, smiling back. "I hope he treats you well- if not I'm gonna have to have a word with him." He jokingly threatens, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"I'm treating her very well, thanks for asking." He snaps back, and you can't help but giggle a little at the banter they're both participating in.

Up close and personal like this, the whole pack of wolves doesn't actually feel all that threatening.

They're clearly playing around with him, teasing whenever he does anything considered affectionate towards you, and it's almost cute to see him glare at his friends for it. What makes you even happier is the fact that he doesn't mind being seen- he still makes sure you're always comfortable, checks in if you want to leave or if you're cold or if you're tired.

Right now, he's got you sat on his thigh, as he's sitting on the sidewalk- when there seems to be some tension rising, multiple wolves now moving to stand almost protectively in front of the rest. "Hey- stay here for a second yeah? I'll just check what's up." He says, helping you stand near his bike, before he leaves to do just what he said.

The way his tail suddenly rises, standing straight back, shows you that he's in an aggressive-defensive stance.

Somethings going on.

But it's resolved with simple glares from the pack, as Jungkook returns later to offer you your helmet. "Let's get you home, okay?" He says, and you nod, letting him help you with the helmet itself. "Don't worry, by the way. There's just some tension- and I'd like to.. not have you in the crossfire." He chuckles.

That's a nice thing to do, actually. He seems very much interested in your well-being, and that's new to you. But it's nice. Feeling like you're special.

Back at your home, he's helping you off his bike, taking the helmet from you- and you can't help yourself, as you unhook his own helmet with a click, before you slip it off his head, and lean in to kiss him.

It's a quick one, his helmet pushed into his hands as you run off into your home-

One look back making you laugh, as you see him frozen it appears like, tail wildly wagging behind him.

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He's awfully cocky next time he visits you, instantly leaning down as you open the door to let him in. "What? Do I only get goodbye-kisses?" He complains, and you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

And he growls at that, though his wagging tail reassures you there's no anger behind it.

"You have to earn it." You say, and he glares at you.

"Isn't my giant crush on you enough?" He wonders, and you laugh.

"Maybe?" You shrug, putting on your jacket. "Well.. I'll think about it after the date." You tease and he grins.

"Well in that case, I'll be getting a ton of kisses after tonight." He beams at you, proudly so.

And you're sure of it.

He already earned himself quite a few.

[yukittywrites]

You'll Love it When I Give it To You

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙

warnings: dom reader and sub yuta, nipple piercings, nipple play, coming untouched, dry humping, some light degradation

word count: 2.2k Read the full story (6.28k) here!

a/n: did i forget tumblr existed? who knows? (the answer is definitely yes) anyways, thanks for being patient. reader is gender neutral, no mentions of your genitals/race/majorly identifying features. it is implied that you and 127 are very close/you're in 127 (read how you will) but it's not really plot necessary! reader in the original story is actually mark...so you're a little mark coded but im sure you're fine with that ;))

It was only natural. Yuta had always been in love with piercings and tattoos.

Of course he'd gotten tattoos once he was permitted to. A 127 chain around his bicep, a butterfly on his hip, and finallly, a feather on his pelvis, trailing low enough that no one who saw him decent would be able to see the full thing.

Then, he'd gotten piercings as well. His ears had been pierced for ages, but he'd gotten a bunch of new holes added throughout time, until he had a near absurd amount. The last one he got, a navel piercing.

The navel piercing was painful, but worth it, especially for the reactions he got for it, and it was only the next step in his gradual transformation to his emo/v-kei/rockstar aesthetic that he'd been steadily building over time.

Nipple Piercings

They were hot, easy to show off, the company didn't care about them and the fans would love them.

So he was quick to run to the tattoo and body piercing parlor and have them shove some black studs straight through his nipples.

And he had to keep them mostly untouched (aside from a shirt or a jacket rubbing against them) for ages, but finally, the sensitivity wore off.

That was when the torture began.

It was so easy to tease him about them, because his nipples were suddenly very sensitive where they had not been before, and the members were quick to use this to their advantage, tweaking them to get a rise out of him, humiliate him, knock him down a peg, make him do something—truthfully, they used them for so many things that Yuta wasn't even sure he could recall all of them.

But, of all people, the person who didn't bother him with nipple torment was you. And, by all account, you had the most reason to.

Yuta believed that you had just seen the amount of absolute hell that he'd endured (with hell being a rather dramatic term, he really didn't hate it) and you'd decided to take mercy on him.

But, as it seemed, you were simply waiting for the right time to strike.

Doyoung, his other main victim of teasing, was probably the only other person who had a justified reason to tweak his nipples so much, had definitely gotten his fair share already, and you definitely deserved it too, because Yuta just loved to tease you in a different way.

He lived for the rise he could get out of you with overly suggestive comments, revelling in how you would turn red and sputter whenever flirted with.

A suggestive comment here, a lip bite or wink there, a gesture that was far too dirty to be entirely innocent (like that one time he got white yogurt on his hand and made eye contact with you as he licked it all off his hand in the dirtiest way possible.), all of them would leave you a mess, choking on sputtered protests in mashed up Korean and your native language.

And all he'd do was smile brightly, then slip away to do nonsense, leaving you before you could even recover.

So, anyway. Yuta thought you were a benevolent saint who ignored what everyone else was doing.

Yuta was (unsurprisingly) wrong, and just like how it happened with Doyoung, he probably earned it.

Yuta starts it.

“Dude, that’s literally massive.” You say. You're referring to the size of the package that Johnny just walked past the doorway with, because the box really was huge.

But of course, Yuta couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease you a little bit. “Yeah? I’m sure I could think of a lot of things that are massive, Y/n.”

It’s not his best work, but it gets the point across, and you flush beet red. Yuta snickers. 

This is your time. You blink at him for a second or two, and Yuta can see the gears turning in your head. It’s almost like you're buffering, and Yuta opens up his mouth to make another retort, but you seem to understand his idea at the same time because you move from the chair you're sitting on to climb on top of him.

And not in the same way that the others had done, no. You shove his chest into the back of the chair and settles your body on top of it in a way that is practically obscene. 

Yuta, for once, is speechless. His lips part in sheer shock, and you can't help but grin. “A lot of things, huh?” You question, your voice mantaining a teasing lilt, blended with something that Yuta’s never heard from you before.

“Yep. Why? Do you want to know what they might be?” Yuta replies, despite internally screaming, because YOU are sitting on his lap, pressing him into the chair, looking down at him, and he thinks he might lose his mind. 

“You’re so cocky, Yuta.” You say, your hands move from the arms of the chair.

“And what reason would I have not to be?”

“Hmm…” You fake contemplate, “This.” 

Then, your hands connect with Yuta’s nipples, both of them at once, and the sensation is different.

It’s not like how it was when everyone else touched him—this is closer to how it felt when he touched them himself, and his body spasms.

You seem to take this as the same sort of spasming that would occur whenever the others would touch him, so you do it again, and Yuta writhes, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Most people don’t react this way when someone does this.” You tell him, stating the obvious.

“Well, n-no shit!” He hisses. His voice is too pitchy to bite back his real reaction, and he stutters a little.

You laugh, evidently amused by the reaction that you're getting. When you rubs them again, Yuta releases some noise that’s in between a whine and a gasp, a little too suggestive to be purely a gasp of shock.

However, Mark’s favourite past time is to make suspicious noises, so they're not that uncommon, and so you must not even realise that Yuta is not joking.

You take your hand and pinch his fucking nipple through his shirt, and despite the buffer of fabric between the two of you, it is game over for Yuta because his back arches. One hand shoots out to grab at your waist for stability, and the noise that leaves his throat is clearly one of arousal.

You still instantly, and Yuta panics, because this is really fucking weird. You are touching his nipples and sitting on his lap, and Yuta is holding onto your waist, skin flushed. 

He gets ready to apologise—to say sorry because he’s really weird for getting off on this right now, especially when he was fine while everyone else touched him—but you shift your weight slightly.

Oh. Oh no. He’s hard. Like, rock hard. He hadn’t realised it because he was more focused on trying not to reveal to you what he was thinking, but now that you have moved, he can feel it.

And you can too.

Your lips curl up into a smile again, though Yuta can see something else swimming in your eyes. 

“Is that a lightstick in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” you question, leaning in (and down) to be a little bit closer to him.

Your hair covers his eyes when you do.

Yuta swallows, “Y-Y/n, I didn’t—uhm.” His Korean fails him for the first time in a while, and he closes his lips again.

“I thought they were sensitive, but I didn’t know they were sensitive like that.” You tease, and Yuta wonders if, for a moment, you've switched personalities, because usually he’s the one teasing you, and it’s never this intense either—

“Uh. They aren’t—well, they weren’t before. Not when the others touched them.” Yuta replies, and now you really smile.

“So you are happy to see me.”

Yuta doesn’t know how to reply, but again, he opens his mouth, and you rolls a nipple at the same time, and his brain short circuits.

“Oh.” He moans, his eyes slipping closed for a moment. When they peel back open, you're staring at him in fascination.

“You really like this.”

“I—” But you're right, because he does, and he likes you too. “Yeah. It’s the piercings. They make it so…it’s so sensitive.”

You hum, slipping your hand up under Yuta’s shirt, touching his waist where his belly button piercing is, then you pause and takes your hand out.

“Can I…” It’s hesitant, because if you pull off Yuta’s shirt, then you two have to acknowledge what’s happening. 

Yuta nods quickly, and you decide that is a talk for later, as you slide his shirt right off, pulling it off his body.

Yuta’s piercings catch in the light: the stone on his belly button, the metal barbells on his nipples, the chain dangling from them (which totally wasn’t so he could pull it later).

“I still can’t believe the company let you get these…” You whisper

“Don’t talk about the company right now." Yuta replies. "We all know what they think.”

“They’re so pretty too.” You say, thumbing at his left, and Yuta’s fingers twitch. 

“Thanks,” he replies, his eyes almost falling shut again.

Your fingers twitch towards a barbell, obviously wanting to touch it.

“You can—you can touch them; pull them.”

“Pull it? But, dude, doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts, but it’s a good hurt.” 

You laugh, “Good hurt? I didn't know you were into that.”

You do grab the end of the piece between your fingernails, regardless, and pull it softly.

Yuta’s arm stops working, and it falls off your waist limply. “Mmmh~ Fuck.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You says, a little frantic. You pull again Yuta’s hips buck up. They brush against your inner thigh, and Yuta moans again. 

“You can pull harder—please. As hard as you want, Y-Y/n, it’ll feel good.” Yuta says, near desperate.

“Slut.” You whisper, and it jars Yuta, but the moment he processes it, he whimpers. 

You can't help but pull at his barbell fervently.

“Oh, god!” Yuta cries out, his head lolling back and his hips rolling against your thigh.

Your thighs are muscled and firm against his cock as he grinds against it, and you don't move it. 

“You like this? Grinding against my thigh and begging me to make you hurt?” You question.

You're a little baby dom, Yuta can tell—into being condescending and a little bit of pain but not quite secure in it—and somehow it’s still just as hot.

“Y-Yeah. So good, it’s so good. Fuck, Y/N!” Yuta moans, his tone pitching into something whiny and desperate.

You laugh, “I always thought you were a dom top, Yuta. It turns out that you really just want to feel good. You’ll beg for it, won’t you? You’d beg for me to make you feel that pain?”

“Yes, yes, I’d beg if you made me! Please, please. Do you want me to? I really want it—” 

“Aw, Yuta. I won’t make you beg for me.” You tease, pushing your thigh closer to Yuta’s cock for him to grind against even harder.

“Thank you!” Yuta gasps, his head lolling back again, as he takes advantage of your benevolence. 

You giggls, leaning close to him and pressing a kiss to his neck, trailing down to his chest. The position looks uncomfortable, pretzel-like, as you bend your head in a weird way to do so. Yuta would mention it if his brain wasn’t actively draining from his head.

You kiss his pec, then, in one fluid movement, suck a nipple into your mouth and suck.

“Nngh! Fuck, Y-Y/n~” He practically wails, his chest arching into your hold, begging for any pleasure, then spasming away, causing you to lose contact.

“Come on, Yuta. I thought you wanted it?” You sneer.

“I do! I do—”

“Then stop moving and take it.” You tell him before grabbing his waist and putting your lips back on Yuta’s nipples.

“Oh god.”

Yuta has never been more horny in life, pleasure bursting behind his eyelids as you tongue at his nipples and pull on his piercing with your teeth.

Your leg is digging into his crotch, and somehow, even that feels great. 

His hips spasm rapidly, and a garbled whine strains from his throat.

“I’m gonna—Y/n, I’ll cum—oh fuck!” He cries out.

You giggle against his nipple, and that’s it for him.

Stuttered mash ups of Japanese cries of him cumming spill from his lips as he cries out, ”Iku! Y/n, Y/n, iku~ I’m c-c—”

Yuta’s head falls back, and his eyes roll until only the whites are present. His body stills entirely, his mouth open in a silent moan. 

You let him bask in the feeling before pulling away.

“I can’t believe that we did that.” You whisper quietly.

Yuta laughs, breathless. “Yeah, me either. That was crazy, but I don’t think we’re done yet.” 

“Wh—oh!” You cry out, as you're spun around.

It's going to be a long night.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙

Again: read the full story here!

[obey-me-hoe]

THE BROTHERS' PACT MARKS

💙💛🧡💚🩷❤️💜

Here are what the brothers pact marks look like for my MCs. I hc that the pact marks appear different for each person but I didn't wanna make two different versions for my two MCs (these took so long to begin with) so they are gonna be the same for both of them. I wanted to go for more of a tattoo look for them. Each mark represents the brother's sin (derived from their symbol) and associated creature (more details and closer look for each below the cut)

Here are all the pact marks together (click the pictures for better resolution):

Here are all the symbols for reference:

Each pact mark also features little diamonds (Mammon's is a bit different) that represent the other brothers. I hc that they show up on each pact mark you already have once you make a new pact with one of the other brothers (kind of like a way to show your progress). This represents the bond of the brothers with each other as well as MC.

LUCIFER - Peacock

💙 For Lucifer's I kind of just flipped his symbol upside down to get the overall shape of the mark.

💙 The top bit is actually part of a peacock feather just like the ones on the back of his coat.

💙 I wanted to give the blue parts a feather like texture but it didn't turn out right so I just left them blue.

💙 The placement is over MC's chest/ribs because when you feel Pride you usually feel it in your chest.

💙 People also tend to puff out their chests when they are proud.

MAMMON - Crow

💛 For Mammon's I started his symbol on MC's hand and had the tails wrap around their arm all the way up to right below the elbow.

💛 The wrapping of the tails represents Mammon's need to have MC all to himself.

💛 His mark manifests on MC's dominant arm (I'm left handed so I did the left arm) as a way to convey his importance to MC.

💛 The placement is the dominant hand/forearm because Greed can be seen as taking as much as you want of something and the dominant arm is the one that is usually used.

💛 I also placed it there because I imagine Mammon being greedy for MC's presence so he keeps his arm wrapped around theirs in an attempt to keep them close.

💛 His mark is the most visible which serves to remind the brothers that he is MC's first man.

💛 It also serves as a warning to any who wish to harm MC (Mammon will always protect HIS human).

💛 His creature is represented by the two little crows on MC's hand that are looking out for MC's safety (that's why they're looking away from MC).

LEVIATHAN - Serpent

🧡 For Levi I decided on making his serpent like symbol wrap around MC's thigh.

🧡 The placement is the thigh because Envy is rooted deep down inside and can drag you down with it.

🧡 It also constricts you and makes you feel trapped both physically and mentally just like what some serpents do to their prey.

🧡 It being on the left side is just because I wanted it on the same side as Mammon's (since they're my two faves).

🧡 I hc that Levi likes to wrap his tail around MC's leg as a way to ground himself when he's stressed.

SATAN - Unicorn

💚 For Satan I just directly used his symbol because it already looks so cool.

💚 The placement is the thigh because much like envy, Wrath can be felt deep down and will pull you down with it.

💚 The horns (although a unicorn only has one) stretch out to both the inner and outer sides of the thigh to represent how wrath can hurt not only others but the one who is feeling the wrath as well (outer thigh is others and inner thigh is self).

💚 The black and green alternating are a nod to the shirt Satan wears while in demon form.

💚 Much like Levi, I hc that Satan wraps his tail around MC's leg (he doesn't realize he's doing it) to help ground him when he feels the wrath taking over.

ASMODEUS - Scorpion

🩷 For Asmo I went with the idea of his symbol wrapping around MC's lower back around to the front to simulate him hugging MC from behind.

🩷 The mark wrapping around MC's body is also a nod to the scorpion Asmo has wrapped around him in his demon form.

🩷 The curling designs on the mark represent the curling tail of the scorpion.

🩷 The intimate placement is reminiscent of a tramp stamp which people usually associate with Lust.

🩷 The mark also focuses on the the hips which are often touched or grabbed in lustful situations.

BEELZEBUB - Fly

❤️ For Beel I used his symbol directly as it already looks like his wings in demon form.

❤️ The details on the wings are reminiscent of fly wings.

❤️ The placement is right on the stomach over the bellybutton to reference Beel's neverending hunger that's caused by his Gluttony.

❤️ While gluttony doesn't always refer to eating all the time (although that is the case for Beel), it is what people usually think of when they hear the word.

BELPHEGOR - Cow

💜 Belphie's is located on the back of MC's neck/shoulders because those are the spots that usually touch the pillow when sleeping.

💜 Those that are overtaken with Sloth can sometimes be seen slouching which also plays into the placement of the mark.

💜 The top two arms of the mark wrap around to the sides of the neck.

💜 The wrapping is reminiscent of Belphie always cuddling his pillow.

💜 The black and white spots on the shoulders represent Belphie's creature, a cow.

💜 They also match the spots on his demon form clothing.

I had so much fun making these so I hope y'all enjoy!

💙💛🧡💚🩷❤️💜

[MCs Lore]

[asarigg]

Character Design: Part 5

FEATHERS

Another detail I’d like to mention about his tattoo before moving on is that the peony tattoo was originally meant to be accompanied by leaves, but they changed this for the final design. Leaves make sense, they’re natural, but feathers?

Feathers alone seem to have no relevance in Japanese culture, but there are two relevant birds that have black plumage: cormorants and crows.

Cormorants are valued birds for their fish-hunting skills and were often trained to help fishermen. Therefore, they are a symbol of devotion and unceasing commitment to their master.

Crows are probably the first thing that comes to mind when we think of black feathers, and just like in other countries they can be associated with evil, but also with supernatural powers, and are considered messengers of the gods. It is commonly associated with fire and the sun, it is said that it was the only bird that can fly to the sun, and its feathers are black because they were marked by its rays.

They are often represented together with a white heron, like yin and yang, day and night, good and bad.

Within mythology we find Yatagarasu, a sacred crow that had three legs. Heaven, Earth and humanity. Yatagarasu is sent by a god (I think Amaterasu, but I’ve also read about Takami-musubi) to help humans, a symbol of guidance, of connection between the spiritual and physical world.

They were once associated with rebirth and rejuvenation, as they cleansed the land after a battle. Rebirth after a tragedy. It was believed they carried the souls of the deceased, similar to butterflies, to the next plane of existence. In art they often represent death, the passing of time. Apparently they’re also sparrows’ natural enemies.

In short, each element of this poisoned tattoo only seems to be mockery after mockery on Ryuuhou’s part, a representation of what he knows will happen. The similarity of the tribal to birds, the meaning of peonies, the seed syllable inside the bird on his arm, and now the feathers as an addition to Koujaku’s virtues or as a premonition of death and tragedy. Death and destruction are carved all over his body. (He’s terrified of it, and avoids it, but Sly seeks it)

HAIR

Now let’s move on to hair. Hair is a symbol of spiritual power in many cultures around the world. As we’ve seen before in the sutra it is associated with Buddha, and by extension it is also associated with Koujaku, who’s a hairstylist and dedicates his life to cutting and controlling hair.

In ancient Japan, hair was a gift from god, it has been identified as a special focus of spiritual power and personality. The longer the better, it’s like it remembers thoughts and emotions, our identity. For this reason there are various ways in which social status is tied to hair too. It’s also used to curse people. There is a hair kami at the Arashiyama Kamigami shrine if I’m not mistaken, and you can make an offering by cutting a lock of your hair. In Sumo, when a fighter retired, they would ceremonially cut it.

Hair has been used and incorporated into Buddha embroidery as a way of forging a link between the worshipper and the Buddha depicted. Locks of hair can be seen at the doors of the Izumo shrine, which specializes in marriage. There are also stories of women who let their hair down when they go to sleep and the hair turns into snakes, poisonous desire, repressed during the day. There are other folkloric practices and beliefs about women’s hair, for example ship captains carrying part of their wives’ or daughters’ hair on board as a protective talisman.

In some communities, it is believed that a shaman’s powers, which allow her to negotiate between the worlds of the living and the dead, were located in her long, loose hair, a sacred connection with the gods, the darker and the longer the better.

For Koujaku, Aoba’s hair is sacred, extremely valuable. He had wanted to cut it for years, we see how excited he is when he touches and kisses it, and when he is finally able to fulfill his dream he carefully keeps one of his locks wrapped in a piece of paper inside a paulownia wood box. For him, his hair is an amulet, it is good luck, it is extremely symbolic of who Aoba is (and who wouldn’t remember him as the dude with blue hair, one of the key features of his design, as well as the very peculiar characteristics that the developers gave it) and what he means to Koujaku.

The lock of Aoba’s hair is a direct connection to him, no matter how far away he is or how long it takes them to see each other again, he will always have this amulet with him. He is a devotee of Aoba, Koujaku adores him and loves him intensely, and it is not unusual to think that this devotion takes on an even religious aspect, as if Aoba was divine, a god.

In Tibetan Buddhism they paint Buddha’s hair blue.

Koujaku's hair is tied up like a miko's, with a cylinder or strap of white paper and red knot. They also use a miko styled paper for Aoba's hairstyle in an illustration and the figure.

Paulownia wood is associated with nobility, fertility, good fortune and happiness. Paulownia is a tree that was often planted when a girl was born. Wealthy families would plant up to three trees, and when the girl grew up and was time to get married, the family would cut down the tree and make a chest and other items out of the wood to give to her on her wedding day. The kimono was meant to be stored in good quality wood to preserve it, and this wood naturally repels insects. It’s also used for instruments.

Another detail about Koujaku’s hairstyle is that his hairpin looks like a shamisen.

Trying to protect his mother from his father and legal wife only caused her more pain, so instead he tried to do something else. She’s so happy about the gift, and the wishes of her son to help her fill her with joy, but she knows that’s impossible. He’s only a kid, so she just smiles, without being able to reply. Honestly, given that this was a gift he made to his mother to brighten her day, I wonder if it could be related to her tastes, especially considering that the most common are simple or with floral decoration. We don’t know almost anything about her, her name, appearance, what she liked to do or to dress like, what she taught Koujaku to raise him, etc…

So seeing this I wouldn’t be surprised if his mother actually played this instrument and maybe taught her son. The point is that this illustration exists.

A Tumblr user recently mentioned it on her post.

GOOD LUCK

Another piece of his design are these bracelets he wears on both hands. These bracelets are prayer beads, called Nenju or Juzu. Originally used in Buddhism to help with meditation by counting prayers, 108 beads are used representing the 108 earthly desires that one seeks to overcome in order to reach enlightenment, used to purify body and mind and express devotion to Buddha. They are used as protection as well. There are versions with fewer beads, 18, 27, 36 or 54, although there’s no fixed amount as many times it depends on the length and size of the beads, sometimes they carry a magatama. Women’s version usually has smaller beads and have more decorative colors, there are versions for children too. Beni’s necklace to me is just a kids version Koujaku bought for him to be honest…

Formal prayer beads also vary their appearance depending on the sect and it would be preferred that the person you marry belongs to the same sect. The tassels can also vary their shape. When these beads are damaged or can no longer serve their purpose, they are ritually burned on an altar where they are thanked for their service along with other amulets and get destroyed. Many people use them in funerals since most are held by Buddhists.

The ones that Koujaku wears in the shape of a bracelet are short, with two hanging tassels, the ones he’s using are 頭付房, I’m not sure how this translates but seems something like tassel with head/head tassel. Made to be more comfortable to carry anywhere, taking up less space or in a casual fashion. I like thinking he has formal Buddhist prayer beads kept somewhere for when he wants to pray for the people he knows.

The knot on his neck and the one in the decoration of his hair is a kiku knot, chrysanthemum knot, with two tassels hanging too. It’s also the type Shiroba/Sly uses in the bad ending. We’ve already seen what the chrysanthemum means. This knot is theorized to be a variation of a Buddhist knot, the endless knot, as a representation of Buddha’s infinite wisdom. In Tibetan Buddhism it symbolises Samsara, a never ending cycle. There are a few other interpretations.

Knots with tassels like this (総角房) would also be used in samurai helmets as a good luck charm, and it’s the type he has on his sword, not the chrysanthemum one.

We don’t really see or hear about Koujaku performing any religious practices during the story, except attending the festivals that everyone else goes to out of custom rather than a religious devotion. But I wouldn’t find it strange if he did it in the privacy of his home to try to attract luck in his life and try to separate himself from the beast, to be a good person and pray for his mother. After all, cultural and religious references are everywhere, and he himself wonders about the existence of souls, implying a much more spiritual understanding of life on his part.

Red is the first thing that catches your eye when you look at his design, and it’s a very important color in shintoism and is used in shrines everywhere, in clothes, buildings, torii gates, amulets, etc. It’s a color related to luck, the sacred, that coexists in balance with white. It’s love and passion, and it’s evil and blood. These dualities are present everywhere, both in his design and in his story.

[heartsforvin]

TATTOOS

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!gf!reader

warnings; mention of anxiety, a bunch of fluff <3

summary; it’s a lazy day for you & vin, laying in bed watching movies together, you get lost in a daze as you trace his tattoos

lazy days for you and vinnie were rare. either he had an event to go to, or you had a modeling gig lined up. so when you both had a free day, you took that to your advantage.

you excitedly ran down the stairs of vinnie’s shared home with his roommates, meeting one of the guys once you reached the kitchen.

“hey, y/n!” jack exclaimed with a smile, happy to see you around the house again.

you reciprocated the gesture, the corner of your lips tugging up into a smile. “hi, jack.”

you quickly pass the blonde, grabbing some sodas and a bag of popcorn, putting the bag into the microwave.

sitting up on the counter as you waited for the popcorn to finish, you swung your legs back and forth.

“what are your plans for the day?” you heard jack speak up, turning your attention to him.

you smile at the thought. “vin and i are just gonna stay in today and watch some movies!” you exclaim.

jack smiled, picking up his things, signaling he was going to leave the room. “awe that’s fun! i gotta go, but i’ll see ya later?” he questioned, making you nod.

“see you later!” you told, hopping off the counter and walking to the microwave.

as you opened it up, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist, hugging you from behind. you looked down and saw the tattooed hands that rested on your stomach.

vinnie’s face was in your neck, planting small kisses against it, making you giggle. “you couldn’t wait five minutes?” you questioned.

vinnie mumbled into your skin. “couldn’t wait another five seconds” he replied, unwrapping himself from you.

you smiled, finishing up making the popcorn, pouring it into a bowl and soaking it with butter.

“here, grab this for me, will you?” you asked your boyfriend, he happily grabbed the bowl of popcorn.

you grabbed two sodas and the two of you made it back upstairs into vinnie’s room. once the door was shut the two of you got situated on his bed.

the popcorn bowl sat in between the two of you, while you snuggled into your boyfriend.

your head was laid on vinnie’s chest, his arms wrapped around you and resting on your waist, gripping slightly.

“what movie did you pick?” you looked up to see the blonde above you smiling.

“vin, no!” you exclaimed, sitting up to swat at his chest. “you promised me you wouldn’t pick a scary one.”

he smirked, he didn’t actually pick a horror film, he just loved to tease you and see what you’d do.

vinnie rubbed your shoulder. “i didn’t pick a scary one, baby.” he replied, smiling.

you smiled, switching the way you laid on your boyfriend. you decided to lay against him with your back on his chest, his arms resting on your thighs.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

about thirty minutes into the movie (which was an action film), you got distracted. vinnie was very intently focused on the movie, but you were focused on something else.

you held one of vinnie’s hands in yours, the back of his hand facing you as you traced the bird feathers all the way to the snake on his index finger.

his tattoos were one of your favorite features of him, it was the first thing you noticed when you first met him.

you loved all his tattoos so much.

your favorite however, was a tie between the spider tattoo on his sternum, or snake tattoo that wrapped around his neck.

too caught up in the movie, the boy above you still didn’t notice what you were doing. that was until you started tracing a little higher up on his left arm.

“what’re you doin’, baby?” the softness of his voice almost unclear.

your cheeks heated at the realization that he caught you, it wasn’t something embarrassing, you often traced the inked skin to relive your anxiety at times.

“got distracted.” is all you said. vinnie smiled down at you.

he watched as you continued to trace his inked skin in deep thought, smiling as you did so.

“have you watched any of the movie?” he asked you, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

he got his answer just by that, smirking and kissing your head.

after a moment of silence you felt movement on the bed, looking over to the side, you saw hera making her way towards you two.

“hera, my baby!” you exclaimed, earning a pout from the blonde haired boy beside you.

you smiled at him before kissing his cheek. "you're my baby too." you told him, earning a smile.

the three of you laid back down, you cuddled back into vinnie while hera laid in between you both. continuing to trace the boy's tattoos, you sighed contentedly, looking up at vinnie.

"which is your favorite?" he asked, already knowing your answer, he just loved hearing your voice.

you sat up a bit to reach the tattoo around his neck, gliding your fingers around it.

"this for sure," you said, almost in a whisper. "although, your spider one is up there too."

vinnie smiled, lifting up your chin to meet his gaze. he smiled at you before letting the distance between you close in a kiss.

you both smiled once you pulled apart, vinnie stroked your cheek with his thumb which made you blush.

"wanna get matching tattoos one day?" the boy asked, making you look at him with pure shock.

"are you sure?" you asked, making sure he was one hundred percent certain.

you had in fact thought about the idea, but wasn't sure you should do it just in case you guys didn't last.

there was always that possibility to look out for.

vinnie smiled widely and nodded his head. "i have never been so sure about something in my life," he told. "besides me wanting you to be my future wife."

that sentence mad your stomach fill with butterflies, you smiled up at him, making him smile back.

you nodded your head, letting him know that you in fact would like to get a matching tattoo with him one day.

falling back onto his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, while his rested along your back.

hera found a more comfortable spot in between you two as well. you ran your fingers along her fur, loving the moment you were in.

"oh and to be clear," you started after moments of silence. you tried your best to look at vinnie. "i would love to be your wife."

he kissed your head, rubbing your back with a smile on his face. he knew for sure, no matter how long it takes, he was going to make you his wife.

[nebulousbrainsoup]

I’ve had this thought in my mind for a while and even at work I just couldn’t get it out of my head so I was wondering if you can write a Hongjoong smut and include the reader leaving kisses (maybe some hickeys) on Hongjoong’s “NO1LIKEME” tattoo, and that just making joong go ballistic and messing up the reader (in a good way ofc)☺️🫶

ohhhhh nonnie. yes, yes, 1000x yes you absolutely can. as someone who loves having their tattoos traced and such, you have my heart for this request. i'm smooching you on the forehead (with ur consent). i'm so very sorry this took so long my dear, but i hope you enjoy!

Mine

PAIRING: boyfriend!hongjoong x fem bodied!reader (no pronouns used) GENRE: smut, fluff TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, hongjoong's tattoo, no use of y/n, quick edit, the rest are under the cut~ WORD COUNT: 2.5k of mostly filth!

nsfw tags under the cut ; masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

this work is 18+. this is a friendly reminder that if i catch a minor interacting with this work, they will be blocked. so don't :)

divs from @cafekitsune

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: pwp, pet names (love, dollface, little dove, angel), hickeys, thigh riding, edging, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (boo 👎), possessive!joong strikes again, creampie; lmk if i missed any

It had begun innocently enough. You were laid out across the couch with your head in Hongjoong’s lap, the most recent episode of what you two had deemed your show playing on the TV. He was enthralled, eyes glued to the screen, stomach twitching with his gasps and fist clenching the cushions every time something big happened. Your gaze, however, had been locked onto the black calligraphy etched into his skin, “NO1LIKEME” on display for anyone who dared think otherwise. The seasons were changing, the weather just this past month turning warm enough to force your boyfriend out of his sweaters and hoodies and, just as you had every year since he got it, you found yourself obsessing over his tattoo.

Thoughtlessly, you reached up, your fingers barely coming in contact with the ink before he jumped slightly, and you jerked your hand back. “S-Sorry.” You huffed a laugh, turning back to the TV to hide your visible embarrassment.

To your surprise, he let out a quiet giggle, and you glanced back up to find a curious half-smile on his face. “It’s okay," he reassured, “I just wasn’t expecting it.” You nodded slightly dismissively, lost in your own little world of mortification. Of all the things for him to catch you ogling, it was his tattoo. How weird did he think you were, now? 

Before you could delve too far down that particular shame-filled rabbit hole, a weight settled on your stomach, yanking you out of your spiral. Hongjoong’s hand had dropped from the couch, and when you tossed a confused look in his direction, you were met with a warm, reassuring smile. “Now you don’t have to reach up as far,” he muttered, giving your hip a squeeze before turning back to your show. The heat that had risen to your cheeks amplified as you blinked up at him in mild shock. 

When you reached up again, you caught his eyes flickering your way, and you could have sworn his arm shifted toward you, but he didn’t pull away this time. Gingerly, your fingers brushed over the line of text, one after the other, up and back down his inner arm. You felt his muscles twitch under the attention, his fingers tapping out the energy you were filling him with as you set his nerves alight. You smiled softly, sneaking one more glance to his face before all your focus shifted entirely back to the characters curling up over his bicep, touch remaining feather-light as you resolved to trace each one. The little jolts that shook his arm only grew in intensity as you continued your ministrations, entranced by every curve and line, lips parted in awe. 

The first quiet, nearly imperceptible change in his breathing was the little gasp left him when you were halfway through, your fingertip dancing over the loops dotting the ‘I.’ He shifted under you and you snuck a glance up to his face again and, finding his eyes still glued to the TV screen, you let your fingers continue their journey. The second came shortly thereafter, a ragged sigh leaving him when your touch left his skin just long enough to shift from the first ‘E’ to the ‘M,’ and this time he shifted with it, sitting up straighter and forcing your head closer to his knees. When you glanced up, you caught his gaze flickering away, eyelids hooded and plush lips parted as he turned back to the screen. 

You bit back the sly grin that threatened to break over your face, taking your time drawing over the last two letters before letting your hand fall back to your side. He let out another shaky breath, glancing down to flash you a slight smile. “Have fun?” You nodded, and his warm smile spread. “Good. It’s there any time you want it.”

His hand left your hip to reach for the couch cushions again, but before he could stray too far, you caught his wrist and flashed him a playful glare.

“I wasn’t done,” you huffed, earning a quiet giggle from him. 

“Okay, okay, go ahead.”

You grinned, shifting to sit up and watching with glee as his face shifted to confusion. You’d settled cross-legged, your back turned to the TV as you draped his arm over the back of the couch, returning it to its original position. Hongjoong had turned his attention from the show to you, following your movements with a confused, crooked smile. You flashed him an impish grin, trailing your fingers up and down his skin once more, delighting in the way his gaze darkened and he sighed. Barely managing to tear your eyes away from his face, you zeroed in on your next point of focus while your thumb swirled around it—the face doodled into the ‘O.’ 

Before he could protest, your head darted down, lips pressing against it. You felt him jerk underneath you, the couch cushions shifting beside you as he moved closer. Grinning against his skin, you let yourself wander, pressing increasingly open-mouthed kisses over the tattoo. You could feel him inching closer, each one making his arm twitch underneath you and pulling a quiet noise from him. Your eyes slipped shut as you drank them in, as you drank him in, your kisses lingering and your teeth beginning to graze his skin lightly. He hissed quietly with the first pinch, and you giggled to yourself, soothing the pain with your tongue. 

The feeling of his free arm wrapping around your waist made you jump, turning to find his face mere centimeters from your own with a dangerous fire sparking to life in his eyes. 

“What do you think you’re doing, love?”

You met him with that same impish grin he always wanted to wipe off of your face. “Having fun.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes with an amused smile, and if you hadn’t already decided on your next course of action, you would have right then and there. Flashing him a glare and a disgruntled frown, you leaned back down to his arm, sinking your teeth into the bare skin below the crossbar of the ‘K.’ Hongjoong jolted under you, his muscles tensing and a choked off groan falling from his lips as you sucked and bit at it, your tongue following closely behind to lessen the sting. When you sat back on your heels again, the pretty pink spot left behind had you beaming with pride, and you darted down to press another kiss over it. 

Before you could give anywhere else the same treatment, his grip on the cushions released and his hand snapped up, quickly fisting into the hair at your nape to pull you into a bruising kiss. Your noise of surprise was muffled by his lips and you melted into him, hands planting themselves firmly on his shoulders. His free arm wrapped its way around your waist and he tugged at you, guiding you to straddle his thigh. You were both breathless when he pulledyou back, lips red and swollen and eyes already glazing over. 

“You really like my tattoo, huh?” he breathed, letting his right arm fall back against the couch. Immediately, your eyes zeroed back in on the ink, and you nodded. “Give it some more attention, then, dollface. Show me how much you love it.”

The grin fixed on his face made your stomach flip, a pleasant mixture of anticipation and arousal lighting through you. Biting your lip, you nodded, attention turning back to the text curling up his bicep. After pressing a kiss to the mark you had already left, you quickly shifted to dot the ‘I’ with a mark of your own making, sucking and lapping at Hongjoong’s skin. The quiet sighs he let out were music to your ears, and you spared a glance toward him, catching his gaze as you found it fixed solidly on you. The corner of his mouth ticked back into that signature smirk of his and you felt his thigh twitch under you, your breath catching in your throat. You paused your work, pulling back with a satisfying pop to face him better. 

His smirk dropped, one eyebrow raising, and he relaxed again. “Done already?”

Heat and nerves coiled in your gut as he stared you down and you floundered for a response, shaking your head silently. Hongjoong always had a way of making you feel small with only a single look, like a mouse caught between a cat’s claws. Slowly, he let his eyes trail back to his tattoo, then back to your face. With a shaky sigh as your mind went a little hazy and lust-clouded, you returned your lips to his skin, resolving to trace every inch of the ink with your tongue. It only took seconds this time for his thigh to flex under you again, and you whined, grinding down against him. His quiet little giggle graced your ears and his free hand settled on your hip, encouraging you to continue your movements. With a soft whine, you complied, hips rolling against him. 

It was only a few short minutes before your arousal had you abandoning your work halfway through, moving instead to press open-mouthed kisses over his skin, nipping at it every so often. You could hear his breathing becoming increasingly ragged as you too became more desperate, the soft whimpers and sighs you let out becoming more frequent as he toyed with you. They were music to his ears and, when coupled with the feeling of your lips worshiping his skin and the sight of you rutting against him, he could feel his own arousal quickly becoming unbearable. A particularly hard bite had him groaning openly and his thigh pressing harder against your aching cunt as his hips sought friction. You released him, throwing your head back with a moan, and he took the opportunity to grab a fistful of your hair again. 

In a matter of seconds, Hongjoong had you face down against the couch, his fingers curling under the waistband of both your lounge shorts and your underwear. With one swift tug, you were left exposed to both the cold air and his hungry gaze. He let out a pleased sigh, one finger coming up to trace lightly between your folds, and a quiet giggle left him as he pulled it back, taking in the slick already coating it.

“Needy for me already,” he purred, and you nodded into the cushions, letting one of your legs fall from the side of the couch to spread yourself further for him. 

Leaning down, he lapped a fat stripe over you, earning a choked, breathy moan. Humming happily, he quickly dropped back down to your clit, lips quickly closing around the sensitive bud. You cried out as he sucked harshly on it, hands stretching out in front of you in search of anything more substantial to grab onto. He quickly shifted up, and you sighed in relief, eyes slipping shut as he began to work you open on his tongue—not that you needed the prep. You would never complain about the magic your boyfriend worked with his tongue, though, your hips rocking back eagerly against his face as you let out little whimpers and sighs. 

When he pulled away with one last lingering suck to your clit, you let out a keen he wanted on a recording, playing on loop in his ears. Sighing contentedly, he pressed one last kiss to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sat back on his heels, promptly shoving his sweats down his thighs. You had barely recovered from the second high he’d dangled just out of your reach when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, and your whines pitched up again, hips nudging back toward him. He pressed into you in one fluid motion, both of you letting out heady moans—you at the fullness of him, and Hongjoong at the way your walls hugged him. 

Once you had both had a moment to adjust, he pulled his hips back and snapped into you, the suddenness pulling a shout from your throat. He chuckled as he leaned over you and grabbed another handful of your hair, bracing himself on his right arm and forcing your gaze onto the marks you had left. He held his hips still as he pressed his back against yours, lips finding the skin just below your ear. 

“I’m yours,” he muttered against your skin, tugging at your hair lightly. 

A lazy smile spread across your lips and you nodded, committing the sight of his tattoo, painted with your marks, to memory. He laughed quietly at your already fucked out state, the noise sending electricity lighting down your spine. Without warning, he sank his teeth into your skin, pulling it between his teeth, sucking and laving at it enough that you were sure the mark he’d left would be a deep purple in the morning.

“And you’re mine, my little dove. Now sing for me.”

Pressing one last kiss to the mark he’d left, Hongjoong straightened back up, quickly setting into a brutal pace. Your quiet sighs and breathy whines were traded for full-throated moans and needy keens as he railed into you, one hand still in your hair while the other rested firmly on your hip. Each snap of his hips against yours punched another unfiltered sound or curse from you and you melted under him, back arching further into the couch below you. The shift had his cock dragging across your sweet spot with every stroke and you cried out his name, the high you’d lost building rapidly.

“Cum for me, angel,” he managed, pace picking up that much more as he began to use you to chase his own high. 

Only seconds more passed before you were unraveling around him, walls spasming and pulling him in tighter. A drawn-out groan was forced out of him as he fucked you through it, hips stuttering as his own climax washed over him like a wave. He bottomed out within you and you sighed happily, your own orgasm prolonged as thick ropes of his release painted your insides white. You were sated, full of him, surrounded by Hongjoong, a blissful smile gracing your features as you let yourself bask in the afterglow, floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You were vaguely aware of movement in your peripheral when you came to again, and a shiver lit down your spine. You were cold, lonely and empty; but in a moment warmth and a familiar scent of home surrounded you, and your sleepy smile returned. Your eyes blinked open to find Hongjoong’s arms wrapped firmly around you. A few of the marks you’d left were visible from this angle, and you let out a pleased hum, leaning forward to press a kiss to one of them.

“Mine,” you sighed, and felt the little giggle that shook his chest.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to the space below your ear, echoing quietly, “Mine.”

TAGLISTS [all open]: permanent: @justhere4kpop @tastymintchocolate @soul-jae ateez: @pyeonghongrie-main @thatonenoona

© June 2023 nebulousbrainsoup | all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my work.

[yourmomxx]

summary: sleepless nights admiring jason

(also yes, I gave him tattoos in this, don’t blame me I’m a whore)

Gotham City Nights were always busy. Always. It was like an unspoken rule, floating heavily above the residents of the city, reminding them that this was, indeed, the place of all worst crime - and that it lived well up to its name.

Nothing easy to digest for someone who had - for whatever idiotic and suicidal reason - decided to move here from somewhere else, somewhere more quiet, or just spend a few days. In the beginning, the never ending howls of dogs and clattering of garbage bins brought anxiety and stole sleep.

It was like the city was doing its own form of natural selection - only the ones with the strongest will and mind would be allowed to stay.

You were one of the people that had not always lived in Gotham, but over time you had gotten used to the city’s cries and tantrums. Similar to right now.

The muffled noise of the Gotham night was heard outside the window.

Busy noises of driving cars, honking, and the one or other siren howling in the distance, all shielded off by solid walls of stone and thick glass.

Not much light usually managed its way up to the apartment and through the curtains, but today it was a full moon and the low white flooded half the room.

You were laying in bed with your boyfriend, Jason Todd. The one and only Red Hood.

He was dressed only in his boxers, considering he was short on his sleeping shirt that you were wearing right now - and had stolen from him.

There was a blanket tangled somewhere between the two of you, but it didn’t really matter. The heat was up, and the landlord never really knew how to manage the right temperature.

You put your chin on his chest and observed the man in front of you. The moonlight made its way through the window and caught on Jason’s face, making the one half light up in cold white and dipping the other in almost utter darkness.

His eyes were closed, pretending to be asleep when he really wasn’t. He knew you knew. But you assumed it was more comfortable for him to rest his eyelids than to force them apart.

You didn’t have a problem with that. You greeted it with happiness, even.

Your body completely draped over his, one leg on each side of his hip, you were absentmindedly tracing the lines that the black ink had left on his arm. Warmth radiated off Jason’s body and into your stomach, where your skin was connected with his, and the broad, marked-up chest lifted and fell in composed breaths.

The lines were thin, then thick, some entangled and the older ones even sometimes blurry.

You traced them feather-lightly with your fingertips, from his lower arm up to his biceps and to his shoulder. The higher you got, the less skin and more ink was visible.

When your finger reached his collarbone, the tattoos began to stray apart again, and you felt his skin make a slight bump under your fingertip. The beginning of the giant y-shaped scar on Jason’s chest. The autopsy scar.

Slowly, carefully, your ran your finger down the healed skin, already turned white after all those years.

There was a time where Jason had been so self-conscious about his wounds, his scars. He rarely took his shirts off whenever he was around you, not even when the two of you had sex. But now, after years of living, and being together, Jason had slowly but surely revealed himself to you. You knew him inside and out, and yet, everytime he let you see him like this, so openly vulnerable, you couldn’t help but feel absolutely fascinated by this man.

Your man.

“What are you doing?” The low rumble of Jason’s sudden voice almost made you jump.

You lifted up your gaze, your finger staying resting where it was on the scar, and came to meet Jason’s, who had apparently opened his eyes and looked at you with an attentive stare.

The moonlight refracting off the edges of his pupils gave his eyes a glimmer of dark sapphires. It fell through his lashes and drew long, slender shadows down his cheek.

As if in trance, your hand reached up to him, pushing back a few strands of loose hair out of his forehead, and caressing his cheek, resting there. The entire time, his eyes didn’t leave you.

“You are so beautiful,” you muttered to him. Jason just kept staring at you, lips slightly parted, eyes stuck with that adoring look of love, and his eyebrows ever so slightly scrunched up as if he was confused.

Jason had very long lashes. You had often been jealous of him because of it. Long, many and thick, shielding his eyes if he wanted them to. But never from you. His eyes could tell you so many stories if you looked into them, stories and thoughts and feelings without ever speaking as much as one word.

You didn’t verbally elaborate to the silent question he was asking, just slowly lowered your head again and placed featherlight, but genuine kisses on the Y-shaped scar on his broad chest.

And when you looked back up, the full moon was still shining through the curtains, still spending his light to kiss Jason’s beautiful face, getting caught in the lashes, dripping from his hair, swirling into his eyes.

‘Beautiful,’ you thought. ‘So, so beautiful.’ No other word came to mind to describe what you were seeing, and yet it was not enough to properly describe the feeling that spread its way through your chest.

The ache and the longing you felt for him, even though he was right there in front of you.

Promptly, you pushed yourself forward and laid your lips onto his. Whatever you felt and couldn’t put into words, you managed to say it through the kiss that you shared with him. How you loved him, and how perfect he was, and how much you wanted him every time of every day, and how you managed to miss him even when he was just. right. there.

Beautiful, beautiful Jason Todd.