#we only have different like. taste in kinks. and cheeses

[jokerjokinghahaha]

Why aren't the other alters as anti-capitalist as you?

What? We are, we just don't want all of our blogs to be super political because it's a bummer. Joker specifically holds trauma about capitalism and its sort of his 'alter theme' so its also his blog theme. We are all extremely anti capitalist. Most of the posts here are actually reblogged by other alters since joker is not awake that often tbh

- Vox (Sorry Joker's not awake rn to contact to answer this)

[cloudlessly-light]

hi! idk if you're taking requests for fics but i wanted to make a fic request! i was watching the lauren reynolds/ian doyle episodes again and when the team is finding out em is lauren, hotch calls emily and we see her phone with hotch's contact photo of him straight CHEESING! would u be able to write a fic on how emily gets THAT PHOTO as her contact photo for hotch?

A/N: This chapter is long overdue, life got crazy but I’m going to try and get back on track and update this weekly if you’re still interested!

Title: Love like mine (7/12) Chapter title: So magical you won’t ever want to think about tomorrow Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,5k Rating: Explicit   Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, oral, dirty talk, Emily takes charge for once, praise kink Aaron? emotionally stunted idiots, feelings

“But I also know I could be happy with you.”

The words had played on a loop in her mind the rest of the night, his honesty close to scaring her. Because she thinks she could be happy with him too. But this is not how love stories that last forever start, they don’t start with lies and deceit and she tries to remind herself of that.

What she realizes quickly though, is that she can’t stay away from him.

Barely three days later she finds herself in his apartment, mostly unpacked but boxes still stacked away in a few places and he fucks her over the kitchen counter. She wonders if he thinks about her when he makes his dinner the following day. If he remembers her the way she tastes as he pours himself a cup of coffee or hears the way she pleads his name when he goes to shower in the same bathroom where he’d surprised her and made her come pressed between his warm body and the cold tiles.

They start right where they left off, only now it’s different, the same and yet something had changed. Neither of them talk about the fact that their frantic fucking leads to longer talks in the dark, or that he shows up with take out from her favorite place or she drops by with a bottle of scotch and instead of it being fast and rough and rushed, it’s slower, conversation lasting hours, touches lingering but not with the intent to arouse but to simply feel skin under their palms.

A few weeks go by in a blur, between work and him she feels herself almost losing track of time. He’s been separated for only a couple of months, the paperwork for his divorce still not done. She sometimes watches the skin on his ring finger, a few shades lighter than the rest and one time, he catches her.

“It is over, with Haley.” He gently traces her ribs as they lay facing each other, naked and sweaty in his bed. “It was over the moment I decided to cheat on her.”

“Do you blame me?” She bites her bottom lip as she waits for his response, almost relieved when he tugs her closer.

“No.” His hand splays over the small of her back and the familiar heat of his touch makes her relax. “I didn’t know I was missing something in my marriage. Did we go about everything in the worst way? Yes, but I don’t blame you for that. I made that choice.”

“She does.” She offers him a small smile. “And I don’t blame her for that, I never will, but I guess I just wanted to know if you did too.”

“Em,” He sighs and brushes her hair out of her face. “You got her anger when it should have been directed at me and I’m sorry for that. But do you honestly think we’d be here now if I blamed you?” He smiles as he leans closer to her, hovering close enough for his lips to brush against hers and he feels her lips tug into a smile.

“I guess not.” She lets her fingers brush through his short hair and he makes a sound low in his throat in response.

“No more talking.” He whispers as she shifts below him, her legs spreading for him to fit between.

“No more talking.” She agrees.

*

“Good morning.” His low voice is coupled with a few kisses against her naked shoulder, his lips soft as they trail down her shoulder blade and back up her spine. She had spent another night in his apartment, almost losing track of how many times she’d been there by now.

“Mornin’” She rasps, still half-asleep when she turns and to her  surprise he’s fully dressed. “What time is it? Where are you going?” Confused, she sits up against the headboard, the sheet falling down and exposing her naked body to his appreciative eyes.

“It’s early, but I have a budget meeting first thing and I need to prepare some paperwork.” He sits on the edge of the bed and smiles softly at the way she looks so soft, eyes still bleary from sleep, hair tousled and she smiles back.

“Okay give me a couple of minutes and I’ll go.” She makes a move to get out of bed but his hand on her shoulder stops her.

“No reason for you to get up, stay here, sleep for a little longer.”

“You sure?” She bites her lip nervously, this was new, almost too intimate but he just nods.

“Just lock up when you leave.” He puts the spare key on the side table next to her phone and then leans over her to nuzzle her nose with his. “You look very pretty like this, still fucked out from me.”

She hums into a kiss, her hand coming around the back of his neck to keep him close.

“You should have woken me up earlier.” She sighs and kisses him again and fights her body’s urge to keep him there when he pulls away. “You look handsome.” She doesn’t give out compliments often, but whenever she does, he would always smile that smile that made his dimple pop out and she quickly snatched her phone from the dresser and took a photo.

“Emily!” He tried to take the phone from her but she quickly shook her head and took another picture, her smile turning into a low chuckle when he tried to reach for it again. “Emily, put the phone away.”

“Say cheese and I will.” She grinned when he tried to stare her down, his usual frown not deterring her in the slightest. She took two more photos and he rolled his eyes.

“Cheese!” He grinned exaggeratedly and she laughed as she snapped another pic, and when his cheeks tinted the slightest shade of pink she resisted the urge to press her finger against the heated skin. “Happy now?”

“Yes actually, I needed a new contact photo for you.” When he huffed in response she got up on her knees on the bed, phone still in hand.

“And that’s what you’re going with?” He wraps his hands around her naked middle just enjoying the way her body feels against his.

“Well, I’d rather have a picture of your real smile, I like that a lot more than your fake one.” She sees him trying to fight it, but then he’s smiling, a genuine smile and she quickly takes one last photo. “Like that one, that’s the winner.”

“I swear Emily, you’re nothing but trouble.” His tone is teasing, his lips still tugged upward as he speaks close to her face.

“Yeah, but you already knew that.” She throws her phone on the bed and wraps her arms around his shoulders to kiss him, something that’s lingering and slow and everything they weren’t a few months ago. “See you at the office.”

“Yeah.” He squeezes her hand in his before stepping away. “Bye.” He gives her one more look before forcing himself to leave.

When she walks into the office a few hours later it’s with a smile she wants to ignore and a fluttering in her belly that she knows she shouldn’t feel. She’s one of the last to arrive and she forces the smile away, knowing that Derek and Spencer would pick up on it immediately. As she hangs her coat over the back of her chair and leaves her go-bag beside her desk, her eyes lock with Dave who’s just exiting his office. He gives her a nod, and she nods back. He hadn’t brought it up, the fact that he knew about the affair, that he knows that they’re still seeing each other, and for that she was eternally grateful.

Then Aaron is walking out of his own office, eyes roaming over the bullpen before landing on her quickly.

“We got a case, conference room.” His curt tone lets all of them know that it’s going to be a bad one.

Correction, it was a horrible one. Cases involving children always hit them harder, were always worse to deal with. And like most cases they worked when it involved a kidnapped child, it ended badly, they were too late and a young boy wouldn’t be coming home to his parents.

It was a local case, which meant that they all got to sleep in their own beds that night, except, no one wanted to go home.

“Are you guys hungry?” Derek asks as they all sit quietly in the office, no one really wanting to be there, but finding that being alone would be worse.

“Not really.” Emily sighs as she leans back against her chair, she felt empty, drained, and she could see the same type of feelings on the rest of their faces.

“Should we go anyways?” JJ asks from beside her where she’s leaning against her desk.

“Come on, I’m buying.” Dave offers, his tone a bit lighter than the rest of them and Penelope nods.

“We need this.” She agrees and with that, they pack up to leave.

What Emily hadn’t really counted on however, was the fact that Aaron was unusually quiet. Not speaking much during dinner and when they ended up in the bar of the restaurant a couple of hours later, he sat with Dave, nursing the same scotch. She couldn’t help but to watch him, saw that he was enjoying the conversations around him, smiling at Penelope’s rambling and shaking his head slightly at Spencer’s excitement about science. But he wasn’t in it, not really and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

She finds him when he’s alone at the bar, unsurprised that he hasn’t ordered anything and simply stood there.

“Hey.” Her voice seems to break through whatever he was thinking.

“Hey.” He turns slightly toward her, but keeps his distance. “Are you having a good night?”

“Not really.” She searches his face for a moment, catches the way he tries to put his normally calm facade back up but she sees right through it. “And neither are you.” Her statement causes his shoulders to drop the slightest bit and his jaw clenches. “You did everything you could.”

“And it wasn’t enough.” He sighs heavily, his heavy brow deepening. “I’ll be fine. I just…” his voice drops off and Emily lets her hand rest on top of his on the bar.

“It could have been Jack.” She finishes for him and she sees the tension on him only increase. “This is not where you need to be.” She leaves no room for argument when she walks back to their table, says goodbye to the team and realizes that she’s not the only one who’s noticed their boss’s behavior when no one even bats an eye.

“Prentiss,” Dave’s voice stops her from exiting behind Aaron. “make sure he’s okay?” His eye meets her and she smiles softly.

“I will.”

 With that, she leaves and Dave turns back to the rest of the table.

“It’s funny how they became friends after initially not getting along.” Penelope says and he suppresses a grin. If they only knew.

She enters his apartment with the same key he gave her earlier that day, then puts it in the bowl on the dresser next to the door before kicking off her shoes. When she turns Aaron is hanging up his coat, followed by his suit jacket which he drapes over the back of a chair before taking her jacket and hanging it up next to his.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks softly and he shakes his head.

“Not really.” He tells her honestly and when she comes to stand closer to him, he lets his forehead rest against hers.

“What do you need?” Her eyes searches his, brown meeting brown and he pulls her the tiniest bit closer.

“I want to forget, just for a little while.” He didn’t want to think, needed to get out of his own head, needed to not remember, if only just for an hour. Luckily, Emily knew what that meant, had felt the same type of feelings before and she nods.

“Okay.” She takes his hand and drags him with her towards the bedroom. Her lips are almost tentative against his when she kisses him, lets her lips trail from his lips over his jaw, his stubble rough against her skin, down the column of his throat. “I’ll take care of you.” She whispers as her fingers tug on his tie, gets it undone and on the floor quickly. She knows that she needs to go slow, to drive him crazy to get him to truly shut his mind off, so she takes it slow, tastes his skin and trails her fingers over his body. It works, she feels him relax, hears his breathing coming out in shorter pants, feels his warm fingers as they move under her shirt to feel her skin.

This is truly the first time he’s let her take charge, enjoys her searching lips and warm hands as she slowly gets him undressed, her lips trailing lower and lower until she’s kneeling in front of him. She gets his slacks off, adds them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor before she takes off her shirt, followed by her own pants.

He sits at the edge of the bed when she gently pushes him backwards, his eyes trained on her as she kneels between his legs. With every passing moment he feels himself able to forget about the horror of their day, and instead he gets lost in the way she’s making him feel. When her hands move slowly from his knees and down the inside of his thighs, a shaky breath leaves his lips and she smirks. Quickly, she rubs her hand over the length of him, still in his boxers and he bites back a groan.

“Do you want me?” She asks teasingly as she removes her bra and then lets her hands trail over her breast fingers gently pulling on the nipple rings she knows he loves so much.

“Yes.” He breathes, his sole focus on her and she’s pleased that he seems to be getting out of his own head.

“Good.” She stands on her knees leans forward between his legs, her tongue licking over one of his nipples before tugging it between her teeth and he hisses. “Let me make you feel good.” Her eyes stay on his when she kisses further down his body, not stopping until she’s back kneeling between his legs. When she licks the inside of his thigh she catches the way he grips the comforter in his fists and she smirks up at him.

“Emily.” His voice comes out low, graveled and thick with want and it causes her thighs to clench together.

“Yes Aaron?” She teasingly licks over his bulge and she feels his cock jerk against her tongue even through the cotton of his boxers.

“More, I need more.” He knows that he could easily switch things around, but for once it felt good not being the one in charge, it felt good to give himself to her this way.

The power rush goes straight to her clit and she hums softly against his cock, the fabric of his boxers wet with her saliva. When she pulls his boxers off he groans at the cool air on his heated skin and she only waits a moment before slowly circling the tip of him with her tongue.

“Fuck.” He hisses at the heat of her tongue, watches with hooded eyes as she slowly licks down the length of him, slowly coating his shaft until he’s glistening under the dimmed lights.

“You’re being so good for me.” She praises him, the words she’s so used to hearing from him falling effortlessly from her lips and then she takes the tip of him on her mouth. Her lips wrap tightly around him and she sucks, earning herself a low groan from him and his hips jerk in pleasure.

He can’t focus on anything but the way her warm, wet mouth feels around him as she takes more and more of him down her throat. He doesn’t know what kind of spell she’s managed to put him under, but he can’t think about anything else but how good it feels, how good she is making him feel. His eyes are heavy lidded, his jaw slack and he leans back on his hands to he watch her, his eyes finding hers, dark and wicked as she swallows around him.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, one hand moving from the bedding to her hair where he gently fists the softs dark strands. But he doesn’t push or pull, simply enjoys the way she takes him apart by each swipe of her tongue. Then her hand wraps around the base of him, her wrist twisting as she continues to take him as deep as she can, eyes slightly glassy and he’s sure he’s never seen anything more erotic in his life. It’s not that she hadn’t gone down on him before, but something felt different, the confidence that radiated off her making him crazy and soon enough his hips buckle up against her touch, needing more. He was getting close, but she would slow every time he started to thrust against her, keeping him on edge in a way he hadn’t experienced before.

He's pretty sure groans and moans and profanities fall from his lips, but he can’t be sure, not when all he hears is his own heartbeat in his ears. She pulls off him for a moment to take a breath but she continues to stroke him, twists her wrist again and again and again and she smirks, something filthy and wicked.

“You look so good like this, straining for me.” Her thump swipes over the tip of him and he growls, his orgasm close, his thighs tense. “Do you want to come like this for me?” When she doesn’t get a reply she squeezes her hand around him, getting his attention. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Em yes.” He’s panting, the pressure inside of him thumping, making him unable to think straight.

“What do you say?” She keeps her hand tightly around him and licks precum from his tip, his skin red and swollen in her hand.

“Please.” The word falls from his lips without him even realizing and even though she had expected him to put up a bit more of a fight, she’s pleased that he didn’t.

“Good boy.” She whispers before taking him back in her mouth, sucking him deep and hard as her tongue moves over the underside of his shaft. Her hand ease up and she goes back to jerking the part of him that she’d never be able to get down her throat. She could feel his fingers flexing against her scalp, his hold on her hair just enough to send a jolt of pleasure down her body.

“Gonna come, fuck Em I’m gonna-” His words get caught in his throat when his release hits him like a freight train and he groans, the sound loud and breathy. He comes on her tongue, and he barely has the mind to keep his eyes open, but she’s watching him and he’s unable to look away. She swallows down his release with a low moan, keeps sucking and licking him even when she knows he must be oversensitive and doesn’t stop until his grip on her hair has loosened and he’s falling back against the bed with a breathless laugh.

“Fuck, that was… amazing.” He takes a moment to breathe, his body feeling heavy and when Emily comes to straddle his lap he immediately pulls her into a deep kiss. The taste of him is still on her tongue and he groans.

She lets herself fall into the kiss, her body heated and wound up but tonight wasn’t about her and she found herself happily kissing him until he pulls away.

“Thank you.” He whispers before rolling them over so he could hover above her. His eyes are soft when he looks down at her and she smiles softly.

“You don’t need to thank me.” She drags her nails through the hair at the back of his neck and he shivered against her. For a moment everything is slow and gentle and then he kisses her again. This time it’s harder, his tongue prying her lips apart and swallowing down her soft moan before he starts to kiss down her neck.

“Now it’s your turn.” He mumbles somewhere near her collarbone and when his teeth sink into it she gasps at the pain. She smiles when she looks down at him, her teeth digging into her bottom lip and then he’s ripping her underwear off her hips.

It was going to be a good night.

[trying-semi-hard]

Big love, Big appetite

I love himbos with big bellies, so here we are!

Contain: M/M Stuffing, burps, and suggestive themes (but nothing too explicit) 

1,578 words!

Ever since Adrian found out about Nicolas’ feeding kink, he’s been exciting to try it out for him. At first, Nicolas was incredibly shy and wouldn’t budge on the topic and kept telling Adrian to forget it and that it was stupid, but after begging to give it a try, Nicolas gave in to his boyfriend and the two made time in their schedules for it. 

Adrian was work out masterpiece. He went to the gym, personally trained some people for free, and has a killer bod. Ripped muscles, six pack abs, and short dark hair. Adrian is a really nice guy, always willing to do what makes others happy. He’s incredibly loyal, and never backs down on a promise. He’s also really curious about things he’s never done, and is always ready to try something new. Just an overall happy and joyful man.

His boyfriend on the other hand, Nicolas, is very different. He’s much more introverted  and quiet. Very stubborn and can come off as rude or insulting at times. Although, he’s just shy, and once you get to know him, he’s a very sweet, although very shy, person. He’s also a very skilled chef, mostly due to his feeding kink making him want to cook for others.

Adrian hugged Nicolas as they both got up in the morning. “I’m gonna go to work now, I’ll be back at three, I promise! You get working on my big meal! I’ll eat it all, I promise!” Adrian said, kissing Nicolas’ forehead before heading out. Nicolas gave him a wave out as he sighed once the door was closed. “Big meal? I’ll make it ginormous.” Nicolas gave himself as he went into the kitchen and got to work.

All day Nicolas could only think about feeding Adrian. Filling his boyfriend with more and more food until those abs fade from the pressure within the stomach. Watching his boyfriends stomach balloon out with every single bite, until the gurgling digestion was the only thing heard. 

Nicolas had a hard on all day, if you couldn’t tell. Lost in his daydream through, he ended up getting too into the idea that he couldn’t stop making food. He just kept on cooking, and cooking. Placing plates on the table before going back and cooking more. He was only stopped once the door opened and Adrian came into the house. Nicolas placed the last plate of food he cooked and realized how much he made.

The kitchen table was overflowing with food of all kinds. Burgers, mac&cheese, sandwiches, pot roast, steak, a whole turkey somehow, and more. And for drinks there was a about one gallon of soda, along with one gallon of milk (Nicolas TOTALLY forgot that milk is very sensitive on Adrian’s tummy.) There was enough to feed a family of five and STILL have leftovers. Over all, there was a lot. 

“Hey honey! Oh woowww... You made a lot!” Adrian said, a happy tone in his voice, but visible shock on his face. Nicolas’ face was beet red. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I made so much... This is probably really overboard. You don’t got to eat it all-” Nicolas got cut off by Adrian sitting at the table. “Nonsense! I said I would eat it all, didn’t I? And plus! I’ve been working up an appetite lately.” Adrian said, a bright smile on his face. “W-What?! N-No! You can’t! You’ll burst if you try and eat this much!” Nicolas protested, fleeing like a failure for making this much. “Hmm... If you’re worried, hows this: I’ll stop when I want to. So that way you won’t need to worry about me!” Adrian said, beaming for coming up with such a solution. “Ugh... I can’t say no to that I guess... Alright, dig in then.” 

And on command, Adrian dug in. Eating quickly but savoring the taste of his boyfriends amazing cooking. “This is amazing honey! You’re cooking skills are really noticed by the world!” Adrian commented as he ate. Nicolas scoffed, but clearly liked the compliment. “Try not to talk, if you do, you’ll never finish.” Nicolas joked. Adrian gave a laugh and obliged, eating and not talk.

Nicolas watched as his boyfriend ate more and more, with no stop in sight. Once one quarter of the way through, Nicolas had to put plates in front of Adrian so that he didn’t need to move. Halfway into the table, and a noise could be heard. PING! The button on Adrian’s pants popped off. They were already tight in the first place, but Nicolas looked down and...

Adrian’s belly was already bloated. He’s finished the soda, and his belly is gurgling like crazy, the abs are barely there, fading into the growing hulk of Adrian’s expanding middle. It filled his crotch, it probably surged forward when the button was popped. Adrian gave a slight moan in relief as he kept eating.

God this was hot. Nicolas grabbed a chair and sat next to Adrian, rubbing his growing middle. Adrian smirked at Nicolas, but said nothing, and just kept eating. Nicolas occasionally got up to put more plates in front of his boyfriend.

He rubbed his boyfriends ever growing mid-section. The gurgling noises being extreme, and with every bite, it expanded just a little. It’s clear that Adrian was stuffed, as he shifted uncomfortably. His stomach crammed full of food and is struggling to maintain itself. After finishing another plate, Adrian gave off a small groan in discomfort. 

“Are you ok?” Nicolas was getting concerned again. “Yeah... I’m fine...” Adrian said in between pants. “It doesn’t sound like it. Are you full?” Nicolas asked, rubbing his boyfriend midsection, that filled his lap nicely. There was only a bit left, about three plates left and half a gallon of milk (Adrian was very careful about drinking milk.) He had basically eaten everything. “I’m not full but... I would appreciate it if you fed me.” Adrian looked up at Nicolas, puppy eyes and everything while rubbing the top of his swollen belly. Nicolas’ face was more red than a tomato, and he looked to the side. “W-Well... I suppose I could...” 

And with that, Nicolas fed the last few plates to his boyfriend, slowly. Nicolas savored feeding his overstuffed boyfriend, who’s slightly moaning at every bite. This was heaven to Nicolas, everything he dreamed for, everything he worked for. It all led to this point.

The last bite went into Adrian’s mouth, and with one last swallow,  Adrian has eaten everything. Well... “I assume you wan’t want this? I can give you some water if you’re thirsty.” Nicolas said, holding up the half finished milk. Adrian sighed, “Nah... give it to me. I’ll finish it.” Nicolas hesitantly gave Adrian the milk. 

Nicolas backed up a little. He was a little concerned as Adrian’s belly was already roaring with gurgles, begging for nothing more to enter it. Adrian took the half finished gallon, and chugged it. Nicolas could hear the increase of gurgles within Adrian’s stomach, he could actually see it... Balloon out more. There’s no more room to fit anything else in his stomach, but he chugged anyway. He swallowed the last drop and have a moan of relief.

Adrian looked over to where Nicolas has backed up to. “Why are you over there?.... Don’t you wanna rub my belly?” Adrian said, panting of course as he  tapped on the top of his overly taunt belly twice. “Are you... Ok?” Nicolas asked, concerned. “Well... I am a bit uncomfortable... Could you help me get to the bedroom?” Adrian asked, panting as his stomach pressed against his lungs. “Y-Yeah!”

Nicolas became a weight balance for Adrian, although he felt like he was going to fall over. Nicolas saw as Adrian’s belly was getting shaken with each step, causing the noises to get louder and his belly to expand... a bit more? Nicolas couldn’t tell. To be honest, he thinks his boyfriend is a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any given moment. One thing stood out to Nicolas though: a low rumble from deep in Adrian’s belly. Among all the noises it was making, that low rumble is what concerned Nicolas the most.

The two got into the room and Nicolas helped Adrian onto the bed, as Adrian laid on his back, letting his one foot and a half belly stick up into the air. It was really hot to Nicolas, don’t get me wrong, but he was more worried than anything. He’s afraid his boyfriend might’ve pushed it too far.

“Hey honey, could you... rub my belly? P-Please...” Adrian said, moaning from pain and... Well, Nicolas could see the hard on Adrian had from his underwear. “Yeah, sure.” Nicolas said, but as he placed his hand on Adrian’s belly, he pushed a little too hard and...

The low rumbling became louder than ever. Nicolas could feel Adrian’s belly tremble from it, actually... he could feel it moving! But Nicolas didn’t get any time to react, because then... It happened.

.

.

.

BRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

A ginormous belch erupted from Adrian that lasted for two minute. The powerful belch nearly shook the whole room. Nicolas didn’t know what to do, but he knew one this: This was the hottest thing ever. After that monster belch well..

“ohh-URRRP s-so URRRP sorrURRPy about URRRP that, I... URRRP.” Nicolas’ boyfriend became a moaning burping mess, and still had a hard on.

This was going to be the best sex ever.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 17: Lingering Touch

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood, penetrative sex, oral sex, breeding kink, heat, sex toys, overstimulation

Summary: Juniper wakes up after the Bloodmoon… but something feels different

Feedback appreciated. 18+

This is a smut heavy chapter folks….

Juniper awoke in their bed. Her muscles were sore and she felt incredibly hungry. She raised her hand to touch her face, but a sharp thorn of pain rippled through the bones of her arm. Juniper looked down, seeing her arm wrapped up in thick bandages.

She made a tiny sound of alarm, trying to sit up. Her memories were coated in a thick fog of the night before, the only thing that was at the forefront was the taste on her tongue:

Blood.

Was it her own? She was obviously injured. But oh god, what if it wasn’t. If her stomach wasn’t a yawning emptiness she might have retched.

Juniper heard the speakers rattle to life overhead.

“You awake buttercup?” Heisenberg’s voice sounded.

“Y-yea…” she answered.

“You sit tight and rest.” His voice ordered, “I’ll be up after I finish up down here, and I better not see your ass out of that room.”

As the speakers died Juniper huffed annoyed.

She shakily stood, making her way to the kitchen. She rummaged through the fridge and cabinets, desperately wanting to fill her belly and wash the taste from her mouth.

Juniper ended up making the biggest sandwich she’d ever made: it consisted of multiple layers of cheese and meats, even adding what little veggies she could find onto it.

She sat at the table, wolfing it down hungrily. She felt like her insides were hollow. As she neared the end of her meal Heisenberg came through the door to check on her.

He looked over the disorderly kitchen, shooting her an amused smile, “Hungry, kitten?”

She nodded, her mouth full of her most recent bite.

Heisenberg chuckled, striding past and sifting through the mess to make himself something.

Juniper swallowed, then asked, “What happened?”

Heisenberg gave a deep sigh, “Well…long story short, you turned into the big bitch again.”

Juniper grew quiet, trying to think.

Heisenberg went on, “I don’t know what you did, you fucking ran off on me. Found you in the stronghold, had a gunshot wound.” He gestured to her arm. Juniper felt it over swallowing again.

“D-Did I hurt anyone?” She asked tentatively.

Heisenberg gave her a long look before answering honestly, “I’m not sure Doll…but you were covered in blood…”

She read between the lines, nodding.

Shrugging Heisenberg picked up his plate to sit next to her, “It comes with the territory, buttercup. We all lose control early on.”

He reached out and took her hand in his gloved one, “It’ll get easier.”

Juniper nodded again, meeting his eyes.

~

The next few days went by slowly. Juniper felt restless and hot. Her skin felt sensitive and the hunger morphed into something more, a different emptiness and need filled her.

She sat down in the workshop, and Juniper was in a mood, the type of mood where she strove to be the biggest nuance she could be. It had long since worn Heisenberg thin, her status to him the only thing keeping him some semblance of calm.

“Buttercup…” Heisenberg hissed through clenched teeth, “You are really starting to piss me off.”

She pulled the tool she’d been lightly tickling him with away with a little whine. She wanted attention, wanted to be touched.

“How about you go back to the apartment.” It was more of an order, “Let me work.”

She begrudgingly did what she was told, returning to the apartment dejectedly. Sitting on the edge of the bed she fidgeted with the edge of her dress.

As the hours went on the feeling sharpened into a deep desire. Her body erupted into a cold sweat, muscles twitching under the skin. Her mind felt foggy and heavy.

~

Heisenberg finally entered the apartment, after he'd finished with the tasks he set before him that day. The second he was through the threshold Juniper was on him. She was unclothed, eyes dilated.

“Hello, Doll.” He gave a cocky smile as she started pulling his coat off. He let her as he slowly walked towards the bed.

Juniper pushed Heisenberg back onto the bed. He made a sound as he hit the mattress, chuckling once he got his breath.

“You ok buttercup?” He smiled cockily, watching as she practically ripped the rest of her clothing from herself.

“No.” She shook her head, crawling over him. Her eyes were dark and lustful, sweat gathering on her brow.

“I’m so horny.” She huffed out, “So horny it hurts!”

“Hey now.” He chuckled as she started to undo his belt. Juniper looked up at him almost annoyed before continuing.

“So am I going to be the pillow princess tonight?” He folded his arms behind his head showily.

Juniper struggled to get him undressed, her hands shaking a bit.

“You can be whatever you want.” She almost growled.

When his cock was free she found it with her mouth hungrily. Heisenberg made a sound of surprise as she lathed over him with her tongue.

She looked up at him with half lidded eyes, vision of a predator. His smirk faltered, her smell hitting him. She smelled sweet and alluring.

He licked his lips, realizing she’d been acting strangely since the bloodmoon.

Had its primal song sent her into a mock heat?

He didn’t have long to muse, she was on him. She trapped him between her thighs, letting out a ragged breath. Heisenberg rubbed up her legs softly, aware of her dripping core.

He smiled roguishly, thinking he was in for a good night.

~

Juniper bounced on him, seemingly unrelenting. Heisenberg’s eyes were shut, his jaw tight. His muscles would tighten with every movement of her hips. Her hands found his shoulders, beginning to buck faster as another orgasm inched ever closer.

Heisenberg had already come multiple times, concentrating more on holding himself together now then focusing on whatever she was doing.

Her walls clenched down on him, milking his cock. Juniper threw her head back, playing with her own piercings as she cried out.

Heisenberg writhed underneath her, unable to hide his sounds. He moaned loudly, gripping her hips as she kept up her onslaught. His thighs trembled with pleasure under her.

“F-Fuck buttercup!” He moaned out, huffing out hotly. His idea of the night was quickly turning over to survival.

Juniper couldn’t find real relief, her body searched it out with unending energy. His smell was driving her wild: a mix of musk and sweat. She ran her fingers through Heisenberg’s chest hair, drawing out a shutter from him.

Had it been hours? How many times did he spill out into her?

Heisenberg didn’t know, overstimulation and pleasure bleed together into a cocktail of primal passion that made his head spin. He was usually the one with higher stamina but Juniper was a force to be reckoned with in this state.

“Doll?” Heisenberg groaned out, when she didn’t stop he grabbed her hips hard.

Juniper mewled in protest.

“Doll, I need a drink.” He shook his head, “You’re fucking killing me here.”

She made a sound of distress as he lifted her off of him. Juniper pouted up at him.

“God damn.” Heisenberg tried to stand, his legs almost buckling under him.

He made his way to the kitchen, nearly falling into the sink. He bent forward, cranking his neck to drink straight from the tap needily. Water trickled down his chin, getting caught in his beard. Shutting off the water, he had a ragged breath.

He turned, seeing her still on the bed, rubbing her thighs together.

Sighing heavily he spoke, “How about I get that toy I made for you, hm?”

“Don’t go!” Juniper stood, worry making her shake.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Can I come with you.”

“It’ll be faster if you’re not hanging all over me buttercup.” He admitted, seeing her wilt.

“I’ll come right back and play with you for a while with the toy…Give me a bit of a breather.” He admitted, “Then I’ll be top for a while. See if that’ll help.”

She gave him a tiny nod.

He was true to his word, as he most often was, returning promptly with the toy in hand. He pulled up a char before the bed, sitting heavily down.

“Get on your knees, in the bed.” He instructed, using his powers to pull his cigar case towards him. She crawled onto the bed, lifting her butt up in the air. She waited impatiently as he cut and lit a cigar. He took a long drag before mentally bringing the toy over to her.

She made a little cry as the cold metal speared into her. Heisenberg leaned back in the chair, watching as he used the device to piston into her, setting a quick pace.

A mixture of her own slick and his come ran down her thighs from her swollen cunt.

He kept this up for a long while, removing the toy to press against her clit from time to time. He loved to just sit and watch her fall apart.

The way her legs trembled and her back arched to get better angles. He’d never seen her so feverish to fuck, unused to being the one running out of stamina.

When he felt his strength return with a second wind he pulled the toy free of her. It fell wetly to the floor with a metallic clink. Juniper made a little sound from the loss of sensation.

Juniper started to move, turning to look at him.

Heisenberg stood growling, “Stay right there. Ass up.”

She complied, wiggling her hips a bit enticingly. He stood behind her, marveling at the artwork of flesh before him. He ran his palms over the plush of her ass and down her soft thighs, earning a mewl from her.

“You want to act like a needy bitch, you’ll be fucked like one.” He spoke huskily as he lined himself with her opening.

He speared into her without mercy. If she wanted to be fucked in oblivion he would do his damndest to comply. He set a fast rough pace, hearing her cry out every time he hilted fully in her flesh.

“Yea this is what you fucking wanted, wasn’t it?” He growled, pounding into her. She made a sound, lips open and wavering.

He smacked her ass hard, “Want my pups you, needy Bitch?”

“Y-yes!” She cried.

“Tell me.” He thrust faster, fingernails digging into the skin of her hip.

“I want your pups!” Screamed out as an orgasm washed over her.

Heisenberg groaned out, feeling her walls fluttering around him.

Her nerves were shot, pleasure numbing every extremity. He was finally fucking all thought from her.

“That’s it.” He moaned, feeling her finally submitting fully.

Their hips clapped together loudly, almost drowning out the wet sound. Juniper mewled under him.

He gave a few more savage thrusts, gripping her hips enough to bruise as he buried his cock in her. His balls tightened as he filled her with everything he still had, roaring out like a Lycan.

He fell forward, stomach pressed against her lower back. He dipped his head down and whispered in a gravelly voice, “Good girl.”

Heisenberg pulled out of her, feeling sore and aching. Juniper collapsed onto the bed, relief washing through her. He lay down beside her, the only sound the mixture of their labored breathing. Both were totally spent, mentally and physically.

“Warn me next time you feel…whatever the fuck that was…ok doll?” Heisenberg murmured with closed eyes.

Juniper gave a little rumble.

[marvel-and-mischief]

Field of Surprises

This is my Secret Santa that I've also combined into a birthday fic for @lilkermit14 Happy Birthday!! I really hope you like this and are having a fantastic 19th birthday!!💓

Title: Field of Surprises Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader Summary: Pero takes reader to a beautiful field of flowers for a birthday picnic, but the pollen has an unusual effect on the two of them Warnings: PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!! This is the dirtiest thing I've ever written, SEX POLLEN so dubcon naturally but there is a conversation about consent, p in v heterosexual sex, graphic sexual imagery, swear words, rough sex, hand job, breeding kink if you squint, cockwarming, unprotected sex (but it’s the times) Words: 2884

Your day of birth was particularly special this year as it was the first year you could celebrate it with Pero as your husband. He woke you up with sleepy kisses and passionate lovemaking, before insisting you let him bring you breakfast as you relaxed in bed. It was the perfect start to the morning, being treated as the special woman you were to Pero. 

The rest of the day saw Pero hurrying to take over the chores from you, instead ushering you into the chair in front of the fireplace.

“Let me do that, mi amore,” Pero would whisper and leave you with your feet up on a cushion covered stool as he carried on with whatever you were attempting to do around the house. 

All that relaxing sent you into a peaceful slumber, from which Pero gently woke you up in the early evening.

“Mi amor, wake up for me, I have one more surprise for you this day,” Pero’s fingertips softly tickled the side of your neck whilst he pressed sweet kisses to your forehead. You woke up refreshed and feeling good from your sleep. 

“You have already done so much for me today,” you smiled, stretching out your limbs and standing from your chair. Pero moved to grab your cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders and tying the string at the front for you. 

“Just one more. I took a different route back from market the other day and found a field with these beautiful flowers I have never seen in all my travels,” Pero picked up a wooden basket from the table, and you spied that the napkin on top covered a heaping pile of what you could only assume was food for your trip, “it is not far, we can sit and eat as the sun goes down over the hill. What do you say?”

Your beaming grin was response enough as you leaned over to place a hungry kiss on your husband’s lips. 

“You treat me so well,” you breathed, grin back in place as Pero hurried you through the door.

It didn’t take long to reach the field Pero spoke about. It was off the beaten track, hidden behind overgrown hedges and tall trees at the edge of the forest. The sight of the flowers took your breath away. They seemed to positively glow in the setting sun, shades of oranges and reds and yellows like the flames of a fire. The smaller flowers were around the size of a strawberry, the petals closed up to a sharp point at the top. The larger flowers had bloomed to the size of a round loaf of bread, the petals spread wide to reveal long stamen thick with powder the same color as the flower. 

“It is like walking through a dream, isn’t it?” Pero observed, coming up behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I have never seen anything like it,” you replied, in awe of your surprise. You could see over the other side of the field was the hill to sit and watch the sun going down over the town, so you took Pero’s free hand in yours and stepped into the field.

The sweet, floral smells hit your nostrils as you walked through, and you found yourself raking your hand along beside you, fingertips sliding over the silky petals and catching on the powder inside. Next to you, you saw Pero was just as enraptured with your surroundings, head tilted down to smell them as he passed by. 

You plucked a flower, heavy and yellow and put it to your nose. It smelled like a sweetbread and was so bright it shone against your skin like a flaming torch. You turned and held it up to Pero’s nose for him to smell, and he replied with a hum and a pleasant smile. 

“This is all so perfect, Pero,” you sighed happily as you came to a patch of grass clear of flowers and saw Pero set down the basket at your feet. 

“Sit, get comfortable,” Pero instructed, and pulled you down next to him on the grass. He leaned into you as you opened the basket, setting down a piece of cloth to place the food upon. 

From your place on the hill you could see the town a little walk away, a few guards were scattered around keeping everyone who had stayed to frequent the taverns in order, others were lighting the torches along the town wall. You could hear the trickling of the river in the distance and birds tweeting in the trees. Otherwise, you were completely alone in the quiet of the prettiest, most peaceful field you had ever seen. 

“Eat, mi esposa,” Pero placed something in your hand whilst you were observing, a broken off piece of cheese on a chunk of cut bread and urged you to eat. As you bit down, you noticed Pero wasn’t eating, instead he was scratching at the back of his neck as though irritated by something. 

“What is wrong?” You asked, concerned by the agitation on Pero’s face. He rolled his shoulders back to try and alleviate the ache and sat up straight, pulling at the collar of his shirt.

“Maybe I’m allergic,” he grumbled, trying to ignore what felt like a thousand insects creeping along his neck. 

“We can leave-“

“No, mi amor, I will feel better when I have eaten,” he insisted through gritted teeth. Now that he really thought about it, it wasn’t an irritation he was feeling but more of a burning heat running along his skin. He felt it travel over his shoulders and down his chest, spreading lower until it reached his cock, making him glance over in your direction.

You were struggling with your own problems as you took the last bite of your food and tried to swallow it over the lump in your throat. You felt yourself getting slick between your legs when you had been staring at Pero’s neck. Of course you often felt attracted to him, his lean body with muscle built from years of wielding a sword, his handsome features, strong body, even the scar across his eye did things to you. But the attraction had never been as strong as this. 

You needed him. Like you needed air to breathe and food in your belly. You felt greedy, for his hungry eyes on you, for his deft fingers to work their magic on your body, for his mouth on your breast and his cock thrust to the hilt until he breached your womb. 

Your mind was a fog of images of all the times Pero had taken you in the heat of passion. You wanted to rip his clothes off with your bare hands and run them all over lean muscle and soft flesh and through silky hair and coarse hair. You needed to taste his skin, his sweat, his cock, his seed. 

You felt yourself growing hot with embarrassment then. You were thinking like a common whore, not that you thought Pero would mind. He enjoyed your confidence in your shared bed, his eyes always lit up with desire when you asked, no demanded, what you wanted from him. He encouraged you. But this seemed inappropriate.

Pero had brought you to this wonderful field to be romantic. To be slow and to show his love, not his lust, for you on your special day. And it made you feel dirty that all you wanted to do was shed him of his clothes and impale yourself on his fat cock. 

“Mi amor, is something wrong?” Pero’s voice was strained from trying to keep himself together for your sake. He saw a distant look in your eyes despite the fact you were staring directly at him. He knew something wasn’t right, and maybe it was the same something he was feeling. That itch that needed scratching, but could only be cured by fucking you senseless in the middle of this field. 

“I don’t… I erm…” words weren’t coming easily to you as you fixated on Pero’s curved lips. You couldn’t hold yourself back and before you knew what you were doing, you had launched yourself into his lap and began licking desperately into his mouth, moaning obscenely at the taste of salty cheese on his tongue and the smell of smoked wood on his skin. 

Pero’s arms pulled you flush against his chest, feeling the swell of your breasts against him. Your hands painfully gripped handfuls of his hair, the sensations making Pero groan from the back of his throat. You could feel his cock, hard and hot against your clothed core and all you could think about was the too many layers between your skin and his. 

You pulled back reluctantly, chest heaving with breathlessness and saw Pero in the exact same state as you. His eyes were cloudy with passion, his jaw tense with restraint as thoughts of ravaging you like a wild animal overwhelmed him. 

“I don’t know what has come over me, mi amor,” Pero’s gravelly voice made you whimper with want, rubbing your core against his cock to feel some kind of friction. His hands held your hips still against his thigh, away from where he wanted you most. Something was happening that he couldn’t explain, and he didn’t want you fucking him where anybody could walk by if you were going to regret it afterwards.

“Listen to me,” Pero growled, waiting for you to make eye contact with him before he continued, “I want you, and you want me, but are you sure you want to do this here?”

His stern tone cleared your head for a moment as you took in your surroundings. The sounds of the town had disappeared to almost nothing, and the sun was setting low enough that nobody would be walking through a field at this time of evening. 

“I want to. I need you Pero, please,” you leaned forward to kiss sloppily down the slope of his neck to a spot beneath his ear that made Pero buck up into you when you sucked there, “fuck me, husband.”

With a moan, Pero ripped at the ties that held your bodice together, pulling it free enough that he could pull down the front of your dress and free your breasts. You gasped as he took the nipple of one breast into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at the pliant skin whilst roughly massaging your other breast. The vibrations from his mouth and the roughness of his calloused hand brought you embarrassingly closer to your first orgasm as you rubbed your clothed crotch against his thigh. With a final cry of his name you shuddered under his touch as a rush of wetness flooded over Pero’s breeches. 

Pero pulled away from you to frantically loosen the front of his breeches and release his aching cock. It sprung up, the tip an angry red like the flowers that surrounded you, and hit his stomach, Pero sighing in relief at the cold air soothing its heat.

“I need it,” was all you could say, eyes trained on the cock you knew so well. You wrapped your hand around it, earning you a hiss from your lover, as you used the precum to aid in pumping up and down, from base to tip. 

That desperation that had been temporarily sated from your release was quickly rising up once more, your breath hitching, your core clenching in need. Pero could see the conflict in your eyes, his own need to feel you around his cock almost overwhelming as he grabbed your hips and moved to hover you over him.

“If we do this, I will not be able to stop myself, mi esposa,” Pero warned, but it was what you wanted, for him to drill into you until all of your senses were Pero and nothing else. You responded by lowering yourself suddenly onto him, a loud cry of relief leaving you as Pero bottomed out in you making him cry out your name. 

Pero pulled you tightly against his chest as he swiftly switched your positions, laying you on the ground to hover above you. You moved your legs to wrap high around his waist, chanting his name urgently. Pero didn’t need telling twice, immediately assuming a rough rhythm that had you clawing at the grass beneath you. You could barely make any sound at all, only silently gasping into the air as you received exactly what your body craved. 

Pero’s face was hid in the crook of your neck and he chased his release, the only thoughts in his mind of you and how warm and tight you felt around him, how he needed to thrust deeper and deeper, to fill you up so much his seed had no choice but to spill out of you, and even then he wanted to fill you more. 

His heart was beating harder than he thought possible, the sound in his ears and the panting of his breaths louder than the sounds you were making. But he knew you were enjoying this just as much as he was when your legs on his back urged him impossibly closer and your fingers dug into the skin of his ass, leaving red and white marks that would be there for many days to come. 

Pero dared to raise his head to see the state of bliss on your face, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, your eyes scrunched closed as you chased another orgasm. He found your wrists and held them above your head, making you look up at him with dark, lustful eyes.

“You fuck me so good, Pero,” you whined, and without breaking the rhythm of his hips Pero bit down on the soft skin of you neck, sucking a bruising kiss there. 

He kept your wrists in a tight grip with one hand, and slipped his other hand between you to find your clit. You cried out when he started rubbing circles just how you like it to bring you closer to the edge.

“Come for me, come and I promise I will fill you up better than I ever have. I will spill so deep inside you, you will feel me for weeks, hermosa,” Pero groaned into your ear, and that was the final straw to have you clenching hard around his cock, arching your back off the ground and whimpering through your release. You saw white behind your eyelids as you shook through the best orgasm of your life. 

Pero continued to rut into you a few more times before one final thrust saw him spilling his seed deep within you whilst biting down on the thick flesh of your shoulder. His body relaxed on top of you whilst he caught his breath. After a few moments he rolled you both over, laying your body on top of his with his cock still seated comfortably inside you. 

You could have fallen asleep like this, mind soft with love, body pliant and deliciously used, Pero surrounding you inside and out. You were completely sated, exhausted in the best way.

“Mi amor, talk to me,” Pero urged, your silence not at all comforting him. 

“I feel wonderful,” you lifted your head and showed him your goofy, tired smile, making him chuckle. 

Pero took the time to sweep the area, the mercenary in him wanting to ensure you were both safe in your surroundings. The field was empty except the two of you, the tall flowers creating an ominous, intimidating sight in the rapid darkening of the sky. It was then Pero frowned and thought of the beginning of the evening and how sudden your attractions had been to one another. 

“I think we should go home and clean up, maybe continue this in the safety of our marriage bed,” Pero whispered, eyeing the flowers suspiciously. 

You hummed in agreement, the promise of more activities encouraging you to pull yourself off Pero’s cock with a soft mewl and make yourself presentable. 

When Pero had packed up the basket and taken your hand he paused to kiss you tenderly, a stark contrast to how rough you had both been moments before.

“I hope your special day has been just that.”

You smiled, a warmth fluttering in your breast as you took in the love in your husband’s eyes.

“It has,” you assured him with a nod. You attempted to lead him back through the field towards your cottage but he stood rooted to the spot.

“No,” Pero tugged you in the opposite direction, “let us go down the hill.”

“That is the long way round,” you said confused, watching as Pero shot a frown towards the beautiful flowers behind you. 

“Trust me, I think it would be wise to stay clear of this field from now on.”

You laughed and shook your head at his quirkiness. Maybe he just wanted more time with you, to prolong this day. 

Now the strangeness of the evening had left, in its place was love and adoration for the man you called your husband, and you saw those same feelings towards you in the soft curve of a smile and the sweet looks he was shooting your way. 

[pasiveagressive]

Buzzfeed Interviews // S.M.

Warnings: Some Sexual references and a little bit of language Idk how much I like this but...

“Hey guys it’s Y/N Y/L/N and sitting next to me is Shawn Mendes,”

“And today we are going to be reading thirst tweets.”

“Okay first one,” you reach into the jug and grab a slip of paper. Taking a minute to read it you laugh “Alrighty, this one is about you bub. ‘Do you think that if I ask him Shawn Mendes would choke me?’” Shawn looks at you like you are crazy for laughing at it,

“Why are you asking anyone to choke you?” he shakes his head and reaches into the jug to grab a piece of paper, “Hey @shawnmendes can I use-” he stops and is about to throw the paper to the side when you snatch it out of his hand, read it, then laugh again.

“Hey @shawnmendes can I use your face as a trampoline? No you cannot, he has a girlfriend.” you smile and wink to the camera. He reads the next  already having pulled it out while you were goofing off,

“Y/N is literally the most gorgeous human on this planet, like goddess level beauty inside and out.” He reads 

“Oh my gosh that was so wholesome! Thank you!” you gush to the camera looking at the piece of paper Shawn is holding. You reach and grab another paper, “My body is a temple and I want Shawn Mendes to bust the walls down.” the two of you sit and think it over for a second, “That was poetic.” You say

“Yeah you should write a song.” he agrees “Has anyone else seen Y/N Y/L/N’s look from the Grammys? Cause DAMN she could kill me and I would say thank you.” Shawn looks at you confused

 “Why?”

“I have no idea bub,” You then face that camera “Um thank you? I am not going to kill you though, so sorry?” the crew behind the camera laughs “ Anywho, @Y/N.Y/L/N’s p**** probably tastes like candy, care to confirm @shawnmendes?” your eyes go wide and then you start laughing. Shawn just pulls out the next piece of paper he reads it, then throws it to the side 

“Nope.” 

“Babe you are no fun at least let me see it.” You whine as he starts reading the next one“Y/N Y/L/N and Shawn Mendes… Threesome?” 

“Um no? Simple answer.” you shake your head and laugh, “Okay this one is so bad but I am going to read it anyway,” Shawn tries to reach for it but you get as far away from him as possible, “Shawn Mendes, I want to eat your a** like a five course meal. I would let you slam your big c*** into all of my holes and thank you, please sir please.” you laugh so hard that you fall out of your seat. 

“There is a line and that just went about 300 feet past it.” Shawn says with red cheeks from embarrassment. 

“The way that Y/N calls Shawn bub makes me so horny.” he reads after you calm down a little bit.“Ugh, now I am not going to be able to call you that without thinking about how it turns people on.” you complain

“That's my favorite nickname though.” He complains at the same time

“Here we are last one… @Y/N.Y/L/N marry me? Sorry but I am already in a committed relationship, that I just don’t see myself leaving anytime soon.” you smile at Shawn who leans down and kisses your temple.

“That was us reading thirst tweets, we hoped you liked it I guess?” Shawn says

“If you want to see other people doing this the link will be in the description below, and my parting words of wisdom are these. What you post on the internet stays there forever, so don’t post thirst tweets.” You sign off and wave to the camera

“Hi my name is Shawn Mendes and this is my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N and we are going to be doing Buzzfeed’s relationship test.” 

“I think that we are going to get 100%.” You smile

 “I think that she is going to get 100% and I am going to leave myself room for error and say 90%.”

“Okay what’s my birthday? Yours is August 8th 1998.” 

“Oh easy, August 6th 2001.”“Correct you are almost 3 years older than me. Okay what is their Zodiac Sign?”

“Well I am a Leo so that means that you are a Leo.”

 “Yep! And he just answered my question for me.” You smile and tease him. 

 “Phone number? Yours is *********.” He says without thinking, your eyes go wide. You are fully aware that Buzzfeed will bleep it out but if this had been live he would totally be in the doghouse.

“Shawn!” you exclaim

“What?” He realises what he did,  “Oh oops.” you laugh and shake your head. Leaning over you whisper his in his ear, “Yep that's right.” 

“Their eye color, Brown.” you say without even thinking, if someone got that wrong they would need to have a serious conversation with their partner.

“And yours is y/e/c.” 

“Perfect babe,” you smile and kiss his cheek

“How could I not know that I love your eyes.” He smiles at you 

“That was so cheesy.” You laugh “What is their coffee order? He doesn’t really like coffee but if he did drink a coffee it would be caramel iced coffee. Right?” You look at him for confirmation.

“Yeah, and you are a coffee addict, so lately your order has been an Iced caramel macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot.” You smile at him amazed with his ability to remember the small things including your ever changing coffee order.

“Bub that was so good!” you kiss his cheek again. He blushes a little

“Okay, okay. Pizza preference.” he reads “So Y/N doesn’t love pizza as much as most people, she would rather have wings, or like some form of Mexican cuisine. Plus we really try to eat healthy so we don’t eat pizza that much ever. But if we are getting pizza she loves extra cheese.”

“All true facts.” you smile and nod to the camera “Shawn’s pizza preference… hmm pepperoni right?” he nods his head at you “Great! Next question. Shawn’s favorite meal. Shawn loves omelets, is that a meal?” He smiles

“Yeah I say that counts. Oh what's yours?” he pauses thinking for a minute. “Fajitas?” 

“I do love a good fajita but I wouldn’t say that they are my favorite.” 

“Oh no! See I told you I was going to mess up. What is it?” 

“(Your favorite meal.)” you answer

 “Ah I did know that.”  you guys continue answering about favorite desserts, movies, and books. “Okay, next one who is their celebrity crush?” you read “Oh that's a hard one, um do I count? If not then….”

“Come on babe, you know this.” he tells you and you think about it for another minute

“Oh, oh it's Emma Watson duh.” you exclaim “Okay who's mine?” 

“Tom Holland.” He looks at the camera with a blank face.

“Hey I have a type okay.” you laugh “Their favorite swear word. This is going to be hard for you because I swear like a sailor.”

 “That is true but I believe that if you could only say one for the rest of your life it would be F*ck.” you think about it for a second

“Okay yeah true, f*ck can be used in so many different contexts. Yours is, oh no I have no idea. You like rarely swear. Um, damn?” Shawn shrugs

“I mean sure? I don’t know that I have a favorite because like you said I try very hard not to swear. Okay their favorite band/artist.” He looks at you with a don’t you dare say anything wrong type of look.

“So yours is John Mayer. I mean everyone and their mother knows that Shawn Mendes loves John Mayer. You also have a love for Ed, and some J.T. though.” you declare

“Alright,  mine was easy. Yours is me, I mean right.” he looks at you with that look again.

“Yes babe of course but if I couldn’t pick you who would it be?”

“You love Dua Lipa.” Your smile grows bigger

“Yes I do, Dua please marry me, or just be my friend or anything really.” you plead. The two of you continue on with T.V. show, worst job, biggest petpeeve, and favorite sex position. When you got to this one Shawn’s face had never been redder as than it was when you answered that question. The last question “Kink?” you read “ I immediately know what it is.” you look at him “Can I tell them? I am going to anyway, Shawn has the biggest daddy kink.” you lied before, this was the reddest you have ever seen his face

“Well so do you, babe.” He says after he gains his composure. 

“Okay results. I got a 19/20.” he informs you and you smile at him, your competitiveness shining through. “Go ahead, tell everyone how you beat me.”

“20/20 baby!” you do a little victory dance in your chair

“So that was us taking the relationship test, which we both aced. We just read some of your thirst tweets so check out the video, also check out Shawn’s album Shawn Mendes, and my new movie New Mutants in theaters August 28th.” 

After you close the computer’s Shawn leans in and kisses you. 

“(your favorite meal) for dinner?” 

“You know me so well.” you both laugh  

[silverlightqueen]

Song Request

'I just wish the cost of her happiness wasn’t my own.’

Jungkook x reader - smut, angst, a little bit of fluff, a pathetic attempt at some humour and a bit of cheese lmao

Part of ficswithluv’s Bulletproof Bingo!

Rating: 18 (graphic sex and mature themes)

Word Count: 11.5k+ 

Warnings - there’s quite a few, please read carefully! infidelity, illness (Parkinson’s disease) and discussion of death, brief mention of drugs, dom!JK and sub!reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), pain kink, brief asphyxiation, JK has a big cock (and tattoos), hickeys, explicit dirty talk, degradation and praise, multiple orgasms, fingering, (ridiculously) rough sex, (kind of) soft sex, sad sex, brief mention of punishment, impregnation kink, possessiveness, hand-holding during sex, semi-toxic relationship, I think that’s it but please let me know if you notice that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys !! this is my first Bulletproof Bingo fic and I’m super excited to write some more fics for this event! I really like this fic, it’s one of my favourites that I’ve ever written, so I hope you all really enjoy it too! thank you to the love of my life @silverlightprincess for proof-reading this at 2am this morning and making me even more excited to post it by saying it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written (you’re the best and I love you). I’m like 99.999% sure that I’m gonna do a part two to this so please lmk if you like it bc it will motivate me to actually write the part two lol x

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘You really shouldn’t be here,’ I sigh as I lean against the doorframe, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. ‘I know but… I had to come. I had to see you one more time,’ he says gently, and I look down either side of the corridor to make sure it’s empty before I let him in. The hotel is crawling with our friends and family, and I’m sure they’d have some questions seeing Jungkook outside of my room.

I move to the side, and I can sense the grin on his face without even looking up at him as he brushes past me. I shut the door behind him, and when I turn back around, he’s sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at me. He’s dressed in a loose white t-shirt, revealing the black ink curling up his hands and arms, and a pair of grey sweatpants, the black Gucci sliders that I bought him for his last birthday on his feet.

‘Have you been crying?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod, feeling the tears flooding my eyes again. ‘Oh, baby, please don’t cry. It breaks my heart when you cry,’ he says, voice strained, and he holds out a hand to me. Every time he does this, the voices in my head get louder, and it’s an internal struggle to see what I’ll do.

‘Don’t do this again.’ ‘You’ve done it before, one more time won’t make a difference.’ ‘You’re only hurting yourself, making it worse for yourself.’ ‘He’s hurting, and you can take his pain away.’ ‘He can’t love you.’ ‘He loves you.’

And the same voice always wins.

I put my hand in his, the familiar smirk appearing on his face, like he knew what I’d do, like he always knows what I’ll do. He tugs my hand, pulling me towards him, and he spreads his legs, allowing me to stand between them. He tilts his head back to look up at me (though he’s not much shorter – these hotel beds are ridiculously high), and lifts his hands to wipe away the tears running down my face.

‘Don’t cry,’ he whispers again, before pulling me against him, his strong tattooed arms holding me close, his face buried in my chest as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. ‘Will you let me make it better?’ he asks, voice muffled against the white satin of my dressing gown, the words ‘Bride Squad’ embroidered across the back of it, and I hesitate, the voices getting louder again.

‘You can stop. You can turn him away.’ ‘What’s the point? You’ve done this so many times before.’ ‘This time’s different, and you know it is.’ ‘This might be your last time. Why would you turn him away?’ ‘Be the good person. Don’t do this.’ ‘You deserve one last time.’

‘Please,’ I breathe out, and his fingers tug at the belt of my gown, letting it fall open, and he sucks in a breath. ‘White lingerie? Anyone would think you’re the bride,’ he whispers, fingers skimming over my exposed skin before he pushes the gown off my shoulders. His words hurt, and he knows they do, but I shake them off. ‘I was trying it on, ready for tomorrow. I have to wear white, because of my dress,’ I say evenly, and his eyes flit up to where my dress hangs up on the outside of the wardrobe.

‘Such a pretty dress. I love you in blue,’ he murmurs, my heart fluttering at the praise. ‘Get on the bed for me, angel,’ he says, words laced with dominance, and I instantly lie on the bed beside where he sits. He doesn’t waste much time, getting up and shrugging off his t-shirt before climbing over me, lips ghosting over my neck and jaw.

‘Don’t you dare put marks on me,’ I say as my fingers tangle into his soft curly locks, and he chuckles against my skin. ‘Can’t you just cover them up with makeup?’ ‘No, the makeup will rub off onto my dress.’ ‘What if I put marks on your boobs? No one will see them there,’ he says, lips trailing down to my collarbones. ‘But it hurts.’ ‘You like it when it hurts, baby,’ he says with a raised eyebrow, looking up at me, and I roll my eyes. He takes that as a sign to do as he pleases, hands sliding beneath my back to unclasp my bra, pulling the straps off my arms and throwing it over his shoulder. His head ducks down to my breasts, and he doesn’t take care to be gentle, biting and sucking on the skin harshly, coaxing shaky breaths and whimpers from me.

Once he’s deemed the faint marks that are beginning to appear sufficient, his lips trail further down my body. ‘So pretty. You’re so pretty,’ he mumbles against me, my skin tingling where he touches it. His movements become more and more desperate with each moment, as though he’s scared I’m going to leave, but we both know I’m not going anywhere.

‘What’d you want, baby?’ he asks, like he always does, and I sigh, because he already knows. ‘You. I want you,’ I breathe out, and he stills with his lips on the seam of my pants. ‘Be more specific, angel.’ ‘For fuck’s sake, JK, I want your cock,’ I say, voice laced with desperation, and he chuckles against the white lace. ‘Gotta get you wet first,’ he says, and a breath escapes my lips as he looks up at me, lip caught between his teeth, eyes dark with desire. ‘You want that, baby? Want me to eat you out?’ he asks, and I nod, before whispering, ‘yes… please.’

‘Whatever you want, angel,’ he says, pulling my pants down my legs, leaving me fully exposed to his hungry eyes, the desire in his gaze making me shiver. He spreads my legs before lifting them, moving closer to me and letting them fall over his shoulders, giving him total access to where I need him most. He swipes the pad of his finger against my folds, a shaky breath falling from my lips as he holds his finger to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste, and he lets out an appreciative hum.

‘Taste so good. Better than her,’ he says, unable to help himself like always, and I freeze. He knows it hurts when he does this, and he does it anyway, because it inflates his ego every time. ‘What the fuck, JK?’ I spit, moving my legs from his shoulders and recoiling in on myself. He lets out a gentle chuckle, leaning on his forearms, as he looks up at me, not one hint of guilt in his face. No, he’s lucky. I’m the one that gets all the guilt.

‘It’s not funny. I hate it when you do that, Kook,’ I mumble, and a little grin appears on his lips. ‘Sorry, baby,’ he says, words dripping with amusement, not even trying to be sincere. ‘Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,’ I spit, and his grin grows even wider. ‘Bastard,’ I mutter, and he lets out another chuckle, seeming to find this situation hilarious, when in actuality, it’s far from it.

Silence falls over the room, his eyes on me, as I stare unseeingly at my hands. I really hate him sometimes. How can he be so bold to joke about this, when it’s so wrong? I will myself to have the strength to send him back to his room, to tell him to just go fuck himself, but I know I never will, and he knows it too, which is why he insists on pushing the boundaries. According to him, guilty sex is the best sex. How he knows that, I’m not sure. He never seems to feel the guilt that practically eats me up.

This is always the worst bit. I’ve done this enough times to know how this goes, to know the stages of our time together. He lures me in with sweet compliments and sad eyes, before he pulls some kind of dick move, to test me. To give me an out. Though we both know I’ll never take it. I’m never strong enough. And then he gives a pitiful attempt at making it up to me.

‘Are you done sulking yet, or should I just go?’ he says, and my eyes flit up to meet his, dark and chocolaty, smooth and bright. I stare at him for a few moments, waiting for him to melt and apologise properly, wondering if he will this time.

‘I’m sorry, y/n. I know I shouldn’t joke, but it makes it easier for me,’ he says, sounding sincere, yet his eyes are unreadable, making it difficult to tell whether he’s saying it because he’s sorry or because I’m naked in front of him and his dick is straining against his boxers. ‘But it makes it harder for me,’ I say, almost pleadingly, though my words may be falling on deaf ears. It’s hard to tell when he’ll listen to me, actually truly listen to me, and take my words on board, or whether he’ll pretend as though he has so that he can get his dick wet.

It’s hard to tell whether he loves me sometimes.

‘I know, baby, I’m sorry, I really am. I won’t do it again, I promise,’ he says softly, and I nod, wondering how long it’ll take him to break his promise again. We sit in silence for a few more moments, and I can’t tear my eyes away from his. ‘You forgiven me yet?’ he asks, all of the false remorse gone from his face now, replaced by an amused smirk and dark eyes. And I want to be angry at him, I really do. But my will to feel him is stronger. ‘Mmhmm,’ I reply, and he grins, reaching an inked-up hand out to my leg, and pulling me down the bed.

As soon as I’m lying down, he’s on top of me again, his lips meeting mine for the first time since he entered the room. No one has ever kissed me better than Jungkook, and I very much doubt anyone ever will. His lips are soft, yet his mouth is rough against mine, his tongue gliding over my own, making me number with every movement. And when he pulls one of my lips between his teeth, so hard he draws blood, it’s game over, my mind turning to mush as he laves his tongue over where blood blooms from my sensitive skin. If kissing were a sport, Jungkook would win first place, like he does with everything else.

But it doesn’t last for long. Whilst he’s an expert at pretty much everything, he loses interest quicker than children do. Even more so when I’m moaning against his mouth and grinding up into him desperately. He breaks away from me, lips taking the same path down my body as a few moments ago, but this time, he reaches his destination. As though he can’t waste another moment, he throws my legs over his shoulders and licks a broad stripe up my slit.

‘So wet for me, angel. Always so wet for me,’ he exhales, warm breath fanning out over where I need him most, and I let out a desperate moan. ‘You want my mouth?’ he asks teasingly, and I nod, looking down at him impatiently, his eyes shining with mischief. ‘Beg.’ I let out a frustrated sigh, hating that he pushes me so far, so stubborn that he’ll never be the one to give in because he knows that I will. I always will.

‘Jungkook, please. Need your mouth, need you to make me cum,’ I plead, tone lined with defeat, and he gives me an impish grin before his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He ducks his head but doesn’t do anything, and my fingers tangle into his hair to prompt him. ‘Such a pretty pussy, baby,’ he compliments, and I eat it up, letting his shitty generic praise soothe my pain.

‘Jungkook, please,’ I whisper again, and he chuckles before his tongue dips between my folds. I let out a broken moan as the pleasure builds, his ministrations making me squirm beneath him. ‘So sensitive for me,’ he says against me, lips enveloping my heat, tongue poking between my folds before he moves to suck at my clit, teeth scraping against the bud to push me even further.

‘Yes, fuck, feels so good,’ I whine, voice shaky as I run my nails over his scalp, head falling back into the pillow, back arching up into the cool breeze blowing in from the open balcony doors. His hands slide under my lower back and he pulls me even closer towards him, trying desperately to get deeper and deeper, suffocating himself with me.

‘Oh. Oh, God,’ I breathe out, and he hums into me, the vibrations sending a wave of bliss washing over me, and I let out a moan of his name. And that’s what pushes him, what always pushes him. He loves his name on my lips, and he loses all restraint, lapping, no, slurping at me with desperation. Every movement is greedy, desperate, full of lust so strong it seeps into me too, loud moans and obscene squelching filling the room.

His tongue delves into me, nose nestling against my clit, and it’s euphoria, absolute euphoria, my hands tugging at his hair to bring him closer, impossibly closer, and he complies, making me whimper with delight. And then his movements begin to slow, and I know where this goes.

‘So good. Tastes so good. So sweet for me, baby,’ he says when he breaks away, the bottom half of his face shining with my essence, lips drenched with me. He doesn’t even give me a chance to plead, to complain, to beg him, before his index finger begins teasing at my clit, flicking the bud gently. Slowly, impossibly slowly, his finger trails down to my folds before pushing between them, and my walls tighten around the digit.

‘Stop clenching. If you can’t take one finger, how will you take my cock? Huh? Gotta stop clenching,’ he murmurs, voice soothing as his finger pumps in and out leisurely, and I nod, my hands falling from his head and clutching at the sheets instead. He gradually speeds up, his finger being joined by another and making me whimper, body shuddering as he scissors his fingers, attempting to stretch me open.

Without warning, he ducks his head to suck at my clit, and I cry out as his fingers fuck into me, my body working of its own will to get away from him because it just feels too damn good, so good it hurts. ‘Stop moving, or I’ll spread you over my lap instead. I might not have my belt, but my hand works just fine,’ he threatens, lips moving against my clit, and I tense, trying not to move.

‘I’m gonna…’ I trail off, biting down onto my lip, my eyes screwed shut as he curls his fingers against my soft walls. ‘You’re gonna cum? Is that right, angel?’ he asks, and I nod, not trusting myself to open my mouth to reply, knowing only moans of his name will come out, and it’s too dangerous. Her room is right across the hall.

And then he adds another finger, the three digits stretching me wider, so wide it hurts. I let out a whimper of pain, and he chuckles, his breath fanning out over my stomach. ‘Don’t complain, baby, you like it when it hurts. My little slut can only get off if it hurts, right?’ he asks, fingers ramming into me without any concern for how it hurts, hurts so fucking bad. So bad it has me balling the sheets up into my fists, my back arching up from the bed, moans falling from my lips, so desperate for more. ‘Cum for me, baby,’ he whispers, before attaching his lips to my clit again, his fingers curling one last time, drawing an incredibly intense orgasm out of me.

My entire body tenses as I let out a long, drawn-out moan, his fingers and mouth still working to prolong my high, and I clench around him, so tight his fingers are caught inside me. Once he feels me coming down, relaxing around his digits, he practically rips them out of me, a shudder racking through my body as I watch him lick my cum off his tattooed skin.

‘I’m so hard, so fucking hard for you,’ he spits out, his body radiating frantic energy as he pushes himself up from the bed, hastily pushing his sweatpants down his legs, quickly followed by his underwear, his hard length slapping up to hit his stomach, red and swollen and leaking with precum. The desperation in every movement of his tells me that this is the moment he’d do anything I asked of him. The moment he loves me most.

He climbs back onto the bed, hovering over me again, and surprises me by pressing his lips to mine again. Usually, nothing comes before his cock filling me up, but I’m pleasantly surprised at the kiss, no matter how sloppy it is. I can taste myself in his mouth, my own essence dancing across my taste buds, and his hands dig into my sides so hard I know they’ll bruise.

‘Why is your hair in braids? I like pulling your hair when it’s out,’ he murmurs against my mouth, sounding like a little kid, his words making me laugh. ‘She prefers my hair wavy, said wavy hair looks prettier with flowers in it,’ I reply, lips moving against his as I speak, and he laughs. ‘Flowers in your hair, huh? Gives me something pretty to look at when you get on your knees for me tomorrow,’ he says, words dripping with arrogance, and I pull away from him, annoyed.

‘What? Oh, sorry. You’re the pretty thing I’ll be looking at, not the flowers,’ he grins proudly, completely misreading me, and I let out a huff. ‘I’m not sucking you off tomorrow,’ I say, and he frowns, eyes still full of amusement. He seems to find everything endlessly funny. ‘Why not, baby? You owe me.’ ‘You know why not. This is the last time, Jungkook,’ I say, and he doesn’t react for a few moments, just staring at me unreadably, before he rolls his eyes, a grin spreading across his lips. ‘Okay. Let’s make it a good one, then,’ he whispers, eyes darkening, a fresh wave of arousal flooding out from my core as I nod, Jungkook pressing a brief kiss to my lips.

‘Hands and knees, angel,’ he instructs, moving off me to stand beside the bed, and I grin to myself, hastily turning onto my front. My hands and knees dig into the mattress, a little shaky with how weak my body is after my orgasm, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice – or doesn’t care about – how tired I am, just teasing my folds with the tip of his rock-hard cock. ‘No condom?’ I ask breathlessly, and he chuckles before pushing the tip in, stretching me out with a deliciously painful burn. ‘Fuck a condom. Wanna feel you clench around my fat cock. Gonna fuck a baby into you,’ he spits out, his words making me gush around him as I let out a breathy moan, and he chuckles.

‘My little slut loves the sound of that, huh? You want my baby? Wanna be nice and round with my baby?’ he asks, voice harsh and low, but I’m struggling to focus on his words, my mind occupied by the feeling of his tip inside me. ‘Answer me, or the tip is all you’ll get. I can cum easily; it’s harder for you,’ he threatens, and I know he’d make good of it too. ‘Yes, yes, want your baby, JK, please fuck me, need your cock,’ I say mindlessly, the words just falling from my lips without thought because I’m so desperate that my entire body aches for him.

‘Good girl. That’s my good girl. My pretty little baby,’ he says, voice soft and soothing, and I’ve gotten used to how quick his entire disposition switches, the change no longer giving me whiplash like it used to. He slowly sinks into me, the painful stretch prompting a sob to be torn from my throat, and he rubs my back soothingly as he bottoms out. ‘So big,’ I whimper, and he chuckles. ‘Mmhmm, my cock’s way too big for you, but you take it so well, angel, so fucking well,’ he praises as he stays still inside me, allowing me to adjust.

‘Please, JK, move,’ I plead, and his hands stop rubbing, gripping onto my waist instead. ‘Sure?’ he asks, though I can feel that he’s practically itching to fuck me. ‘Yes, need you,’ I breathe out, and he doesn’t hesitate any longer, pulling out of me before slamming back in, winding me. He’s ruthless, pounding into me so hard that his balls slap against my thighs, hands digging into my waist, both our skin damp with sweat.

I arch my back, and he leans forward over me, grabbing my two French braids in one hand, tugging on them to hold my head up, the pull only slightly painful. He fucks into me, hard, with no restraint, my head bent back at an uncomfortable angle, my moans projecting around the room. ‘Does my slut like it when I fuck you like this? Like it when I fuck you like the little bitch you are?’ he asks, my moans answer enough it seems, a strained chuckle falling from his lips.

He props one foot up on the bed, allowing him to hammer into me at a bruising pace, cock filling me up completely, having me completely blissed out. ‘You take my cock so well, angel, so fucking well. You take it like a little slut,’ he breathes out between grunts, and it’s forceful, it’s vicious, it’s primal the way he’s fucking me, so good I can’t think of anything but him, and how fucking amazing his cock is.

My arms give way before I can realise how much they ache, and I fall face first into the sheets. ‘Oh, baby, are you tired?’ he asks gently, his cock stilling inside me, and I try to lift myself back up, desperate to feel him again. ‘No, stop,’ he says, turning me over, his dick slipping out in the process. When I’m on my back, I look up at him and my heart flutters. His dark hair is damp and curly, his pupils completely blown out with lust, his lips pink and swollen, his cheeks flushed, and his entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

He pauses for a moment, eyes flitting over my body like how an artist admires their work, and I know he’s revelling in how fucked out I am, how wrecked he’s made me, my chest heaving and my entire body radiating hot desire. And there’s something in his eyes, something else, something different. Something affectionate, soft, sad. And that feeling seeps into me, knowing that this is the last time I can feel his touch, the last time I can get tangled up with him in the sheets.

The moment passes and his eyes harden once more, his hands sliding beneath my slick body and lifting me up into his toned arms, my legs coming up around his waist instinctually. He carries me over to the door, his strength astounding me all over again, my fingers running over the ridges of his muscles. He pushes me up against the door, my legs still clamped around him, and his hands roam over my body.

‘Won’t someone hear if you fuck me here?’ I ask, my lips against his collarbones, and he chuckles. ‘That’s the whole point. Isn’t her room right across the hall? Maybe she can learn what good sex sounds like,’ he says amusedly, and my heart doesn’t sink this time. It was only a matter of time before he brought her up again. In all honesty, it took him longer than I expected.

He doesn’t even give me a chance to reply before he sinks into me, my face contorting with pleasure beneath his intense gaze. He pulls out, still watching my reactions, before pushing back in at an agonisingly slow pace. He rocks into me, cock dragging against my walls leisurely, and I can feel it even more like this, can feel every inch filling me up and stretching me out.

‘Fuck, so good, so fucking good,’ I moan loudly, and he pushes two fingers into my mouth. ‘Gotta be quiet. We’ll get a noise complaint, and I don’t wanna rush. Like taking my time with you, like ruining you slowly, like making you a fucked out little bitch desperate for my cock. Isn’t that what you want, angel? Want me to fuck you nice and slow?’ he whispers against my ear, and I let out a moan around his fingers, gushing all over his thighs.

He takes this as a yes, grinning devilishly as he fucks me deep, swollen head scraping against the soft spongy spot inside me, and I whimper and whine around his fingers as he lets out sinfully soft grunts and groans against my neck. He’s usually so rash, so hasty, so eager, very rarely fucking me slow like this, both of us savouring every thrust.

I clench around him and he grins, bringing a tattooed hand to rest at the base of my neck, fingers still in my mouth. ‘Feels good?’ he asks, and I nod enthusiastically, a little laugh falling from his lips. ‘Of course it does. No one can fuck you like this. No one can fuck you like I fuck you. My good little slut, only mine. I own you, baby. This pussy is mine,’ he whispers, the dirty words combined with the slow drags of his cock against my walls making me sob around his fingers, a grin spreading across his lips.

His hand around my neck tightens, cutting off my airways slightly, and I let out an unintelligible string of curses around his fingers, my breathing quickly becoming laboured. I clench around him sporadically, quickly feeling my high approaching, and he can feel it too, his hands disappearing from my neck and mouth, coming to rest at my waist instead.

‘So pretty, baby, so beautiful and good for me. Love your pussy, feels so good. Love having sex with you. So lucky I get to touch you, taste you, fuck you,’ he whispers between groans, and I let out whimpers at his words.

His touches across my body are featherlight and soft, his thrusts slow and deep, and he breathes out compliments and gentle words against my skin. And then I realise that he’s no longer fucking me. He’s making love to me.

He leans forward, capturing my lips with his in a kiss, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, hands tangling into his hair. I feel myself reaching my climax quicker than ever as our lips move together, tongues and teeth clashing in the desperate and passionate kiss. He swallows my moans, and when they get more and more frequent, he breaks away from me.

‘Close, angel?’ he asks, and I nod, my eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his body rolling against mine, thrusts slow and deep. ‘So close, baby, feels so good. So fucking good, Jungkook,’ I breathe out and his hand reaches down to rub at my clit as he continues thrusting into me, the tip dragging against the soft spongy part inside me. The feeling is so euphoric, the pleasure rendering my mind black of everything but Jungkook, my body melting into his, our chests pressed together.

‘Come on, baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you clenching around me, baby, you’re so close. Cum for me, angel,’ he whispers into my ear before pressing his lips to mine, these soft and loving words so unlike anything he’s ever said to me before that they push me over the edge as I let out a loud moan of his name against his mouth, as a mind-numbing orgasm washes over me.

My vision turns blank, head empty as white noise fills my ears, pussy clenched around him in a vice-like grip, and he continues to rub at my clit to draw out the pleasure. Once I feel myself coming down, I pull his hand away before interlocking it with mine, a smile breaking across his face as our eyes lock together in a gentle gaze.

‘I love you, y/n,’ he whispers softly, and the words bring tears to my eyes, because I’ve never heard him say them before. Not to me, anyway. His smile falls slightly when I don’t answer, my whole body frozen, before I reply without even thinking; ‘I love you, too, Jungkook.’

His smile reappears with force, filling his face with such joy that it makes the tears spill out over my cheeks as I laugh. ‘I love you. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you so much,’ he whispers again and again, both of us completely still, our hands still locked together.

My walls still flutter around him with the aftershocks of my orgasm. ‘Shall I stop? Are you too sensitive?’ he asks, my heart melting as more tears run down my face. ‘No, want you to cum,’ I reply, and he lets out a curse, beginning to thrust into me again.

I keep clenching around him involuntarily, and I reach down my free hand to play with his balls, my other hand still in his tight grip. ‘Come on, baby, you’re so close. Cum for me,’ I whisper before pressing my lips to his briefly, digging my heels into his back to hold him in place, deep inside me, his dick twitching. He buries his head into my neck and lets out a strangled moan of my name as he cums inside me, painting my walls with his hot, thick release. His hips stutter as he tries to prolong his orgasm, my hand still playing with his balls, his whole body tense.

Once he’s come down from his orgasm, his body relaxes and I remove my hand from his balls, my other hand still clasped in his and his head still nestled in my neck. He wraps his arms around me, carrying me over to the bed and laying me down carefully before disappearing into the bathroom. He comes back a few moments later with a towel and some water, and he cleans me up with a loving gaze as I sip down the water.

Once he’s deemed his cleaning sufficient, he throws the towel across the room, both of us laughing gently, before his face becomes a little more serious. ‘I wasn’t just saying it, y/n. I do love you,’ he says, the thrill of the words not quite old yet. ‘I know. And I love you too,’ I say, the smile on his face mirrored on my own.

Before we both realise the weight of what we’re saying, and it hits us like a ton of bricks. This is worse than the usual comedown, much worse. All the previous times, it’s been easier, because it’s hard to love someone when their words and touches are full of lust and nothing more. But this time…. I could feel the love, in every single movement, in every touch, in every word. Yeah, this comedown hurts.

I open my mouth to speak, though I’m not sure what I’m going to say, but he shakes his head. ‘Don’t. Save it for the morning. I just want to be normal now. Can we do that? Can we just pretend to be a normal couple, pretend that you love me, and I love you, and that’s all there is?’ he asks, desperation in his voice, in his eyes, his face, his entire body, different from the desperation we both felt a little while ago, and I nod. ‘We can do that.’

He smiles, the most beautiful smile I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, before he leans towards me, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. The kiss instantly deepens into something passionate, something soft, something full of love, and our arms wrap around each other as we fall back onto the bed, our limbs tangled together.

‘Don’t go,’ I whisper against his lips, ‘please don’t go. Stay the night.’ ‘I’m not going anywhere, baby,’ he whispers back, holding me in a tight grip, and I could live the rest of my life like this, in his arms, with his lips on mine. ‘I’m right here.’

‘y/n, so help me, if you don’t answer the fucking door!’ Jisoo’s shrill shriek breaks through my slumber, quickly followed by her fists hitting the door, making both Jungkook and I wake the fuck up. ‘Shit. Go hide,’ I whisper, pushing him out of the bed, and he gets out, still half asleep. ‘Bathroom?’ he asks groggily, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on. ‘No, balcony, she might need to use the bathroom,’ I say, and he sighs, rushing out onto the balcony and hiding around the corner where he isn’t visible through the doors.

I jump out of bed, grabbing my underwear and his clothes and shoving them into the wardrobe before I shrug on my white satin gown, quickly tying it as I kick his sliders under the bed. ‘y/n!’ Jisoo practically screams, and I wrench the door open, faced with Jisoo who holds a fist up, ready to bang on the door again. She jumps at the sight of me before huffing, pushing past me into the room. ‘What took you so long?’ she asks, and I sigh, shutting the door and going to sit at the foot of the bed. ‘I was, like, in such a deep sleep. Sorry,’ I say, and she shrugs. ‘It’s fine. I thought you’d disappeared or something,’ she says, and I let out a gentle laugh.

She’s in her white dressing gown too, white sliders on her feet, and her hair is already styled into an updo at the back of her head, a couple of loose curls framing her face with a few small blue flowers dotted around her head. ‘Your hair looks really pretty,’ I say, and she preens at the praise. ‘Thanks. I had to wake up so early, because the stylist has to do everyone else’s too. You’re lucky you can do your own hair,’ she says, and I grin, trying to ignore the panic in my veins, still half-asleep.

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask, and she huffs again, scowling. ‘Not well. Someone was having some loud ass sex. It must have been a couple in the room above me, because it was so fucking loud. Poor girl was nearly screaming – sounded like a pornstar, but real. I bet we’ll be able to spot her around the hotel today, barely able to walk,’ she chuckles, and I hope my face doesn’t betray me as I laugh along, my cheeks heating up.

‘Did you hear it?’ she asks, and I shake my head, feigning cluelessness. ‘No. It must have been above you ‘cause I couldn’t hear a thing. Or I just slept like a log,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘So lucky. You’ve always been a deep sleeper. You could sleep through a hurricane. Remember when we had renovations going on in the attic, and you literally slept through the entire thing?’ she says, and I laugh at the memory. ‘I get it from Dad. You’re like Mum – she’s a light sleeper too,’ I say, and she scowls. ‘Trust me, I know. She caught me sneaking in at night that many times,’ she mutters, and I burst out laughing, completely forgetting the boy out on my balcony as Jisoo laughs with me.

There’s something about reminiscing with a sister that makes you feel warm inside.

‘That’s not fair!’ she exclaims, looking towards my balcony, ‘you got a sea view! Mine’s a mountain view!’ She begins to walk towards it, and without thinking, I nearly shriek, ‘No! Don’t go out there!’ She turns to look at me, her face a mixture of confused and alarmed. ‘Um, why?’ ‘You’ll ruin your hair, dummy! It’s so windy out there,’ I lie, surprised at how quickly I thought of that, and she gasps with realisation. ‘Oh, my God, I completely forgot. What would I do without you, y/n?’ she says, and I try to smile at her with true happiness. ‘You’d have messy hair on your wedding day,’ I say, and she lets out a gentle laugh.

‘Speaking of which, how do you feel? Excited?’ I ask, and she hesitates. ‘I don’t know,’ she begins, and my eyes widen. ‘What?’ ‘No, not like that! Don’t worry, I’m not getting cold feet. He’s not getting out of marrying my crazy ass,’ she says, both of us laughing before she continues; ‘I just… I don’t know, I just don’t feel excited. It feels like a normal day.’ ‘Well, it takes a while to sink in-’ ‘No, it’s sunk in. I’m well aware. I just don’t feel… anything. At all,’ she says, seeming a little worried, and I sigh. ‘Jisoo, that’s okay. This is a big thing, and there’s no particular way you should feel. Trust me, when you’re walking down the aisle, then you’ll feel it,’ I say, and she smiles softly. ‘You always know what to say,’ she says gently, and I get up from the bed, pulling her into a hug.

She hugs me back for a few seconds before pulling away. ‘You smell…’ she begins before moving back in to sniff me. And then she pulls back in shock, eyes wide. ‘You smell like sex! Oh, my God, did Jimin come to your room last night?’ she demands. ‘No! God, no! He might be here as my date, but he’s still my best friend, Jisoo! And also gay! No, I… I struggled to drop off, so I… you know,’ I trail off, and she grins at me when she realises. ‘Ooh, okay,’ she says teasingly, and I bury my face in my hands embarrassedly.

‘Shut it.’ ‘Fine, fine, I’ll let it go. Anyway, I’ve gotta go get my makeup done, but I just wanted to check in on you, because you weren’t replying to my texts. I might go check on my lovely groom,’ she says excitedly, heading towards the door, and I grab her hand. ‘No, idiot, it’s bad luck! Mum would kill you,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes, sighing. ‘Whatever. I’ll just go back to my room then. But get ready. You need to shower, and do your hair, and makeup, and you’ve only got three hours,’ she nags, and I roll my eyes. ‘Now you’re sounding like Mum. That’s plenty of time. Go, get ready,’ I say, and she grins, pulling me into a quick hug before darting out into the hall, the door falling shut with a heavy thud behind her.

When I turn around, Jungkook’s already coming back into the room with a shit-eating grin on his face. ‘Jimin? She’s funny,’ Jungkook laughs as I get his clothes out of the wardrobe, but I can’t bring myself to join in with his amuseent. ‘You need to go,’ I say, retrieving the sliders from under the bed, and his face falls. ‘What? Why?’ he asks, and my eyes widen at his stupidity. ‘Because you’re getting married to my sister in three hours!’ I hiss angrily, throwing his clothes at him, and he looks so inexplicably sad, slumping down onto the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands.

And just like always, he manages to make me feel sorry for him.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that. But it’s true, Jungkook. You shouldn’t be here. You need to go and get ready. People are gonna start knocking on your door and wondering where you are,’ I say gently, and he nods, head still in his hands.

He takes a deep breath and looks up at me, and I really think he’s about to say goodbye and leave. And then he says something else entirely; ‘We could just run, you know.’ ‘What?’ I ask, blinking in shock, and he nods earnestly, getting up from the bed and taking my hands into his. ‘You love me, and I love you. That’s all that matters. We could run, start a life somewhere together,’ he says, and I can’t believe my ears.

I pull my hands from his, taking a couple steps back from him as his face falls. ‘Obviously you don’t care about my sister, but I do, and we cannot hurt her like that,’ I say coldly, his face twisting with rage. ‘You didn’t care about her when you were begging for my fucking cock last night,’ he spits, and I flinch at his words, the movement instantly taking the anger out of him.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it-’ ‘It’s fine. You’re not exactly wrong. Neither of us cared about her last night, when we probably should have. But it’s done. Now… you go, and you marry her, and you make her the happiest girl in the world,’ I say as brightly as possible, and he sighs sadly, pulling me into his arms. ‘And make you the saddest? I can’t do that,’ he whispers, my head tucked under his chin, and I melt into him, blinking back tears. ‘You have to,’ I say, and he takes a shaky breath before pulling away from me.

‘I never should’ve proposed,’ he spits, so angry at himself, throwing himself down onto the bed again, feet planted firmly on the floor. ‘Why did you?’ I whisper, and he looks up at me in surprise. ‘What?’ ‘Why did you propose?’ I ask, and he sighs, throwing his head back with his eyes closed, pain all over his face. Silence descends over us as he hesitates, and I can practically feel his mind working at a hundred miles an hour. ‘She’s… she won’t be around for long,’ he says sadly, and the words don’t really register with me properly. ‘What? Why?’

‘She’s dying, y/n.’

The words strike me dumb, echoing in my ears as though he’d shouted them, even though they’d barely come out as a whisper. ‘No,’ I breathe out, clutching my hands together at my chest, my entire body numb. ‘I’m sorry you had to find out like this,’ he sighs, and I shake my head, trying to block out his words. ‘No, no, no, it can’t be true,’ I whisper, and he gets up from the bed, looking as though he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders as he takes the two small steps towards me, wrapping his arms around my body again.

I curl into him, seeking comfort from him, the word ‘no’ falling from my lips again and again, like a broken record. ‘I’m sorry, y/n,’ he murmurs against my forehead, and I take a deep breath, my hands balled up in fists against his chest. ‘No, Jungkook, no! It can’t be true. No,’ I practically shout, my fist hitting his chest repeatedly, and he continues holding me. And then I clutch onto him, like he’s a buoy in this sea of pain, the waves rising up higher than possible and washing over me so hard, I think I might drown.

And when it feels like lifetimes have passed, lifetimes of agony and pain and loss, I let go of him, stumbling towards the bed to sit down, hands clasping at the sheets to anchor me. ‘Why… why is she dying? Has she been diagnosed?’ I ask, and he nods, coming to sit beside me, and he takes my hands into his. ‘She’s got early onset Parkinson’s disease. It’s really rare in people our age. You know what that is, right?’ he asks, and I nod, trying to imagine my sister, my beautiful lively sister, debilitated, stuck in a wheelchair, unable to move and speak. The image hurts my heart.

‘Is she getting treatment?’ I ask, and he sighs. ‘It’s terminal, so treatment won’t save her, it’ll just… prolong her suffering,’ he replies, and I look at him with hard eyes. ‘Is she getting treatment?’ I repeat harshly, and he shakes his head. ‘Are you kidding?’ ‘y/n, she refused treatment. She said she’d rather die quickly than die painfully,’ he says, and my whole body shakes with fury.

‘She’s so fucking stupid, oh, my God! She’s going to die painfully either way! Parkinson’s isn’t a pretty disease! She’s gonna get to a point where she can’t even shit without help! Why wouldn’t she put that off as long as possible?’ I rant and Jungkook nods in agreement, inexplicably sad. ‘I’ve had this same conversation with her several times. You know what she’s like. Once she’s made a decision…’ he trails off, and I nod, knowing exactly what he means.

She decided she was going to get married at the beach that we visited in Santorini when she was 8 and I was 6. That’s exactly where we are. She decided that she was going to have her bridesmaids (and decorations) in blue since we saw a wedding on TV with that same colour palette when she was 11 and I was 9. That’s exactly what we’re wearing (and the colour of her decorations). And she decided she was going to marry Jeon Jungkook, the popular, sweet, soft and smart jock boy in her year at school, since she was 14 and I was 12. And that’s exactly who she’s marrying.

Once she’s made a decision, there’s nothing changing her mind.

‘Try not to be upset today, y/n. I know that’s hard, but you’re not supposed to know, and it needs to stay that way until she tells you herself. Just, please, try to put on a smile,’ he says, and I nod, blinking back the tears that had been pooling in my eyes, and putting on my brightest smile. ‘Good?’ I ask, and he grins. He looks genuinely happy. And then I look at myself in the mirror sat on the desk, and I look genuinely happy too. We might not have much, but at least we’re great actors. ‘Beautiful,’ he answers, my heart fluttering at the compliment.

‘Just remember… I was planning on breaking up with her. And then I found out she has around a year left before she starts getting really ill, and god knows how long she’ll have after that. I owe her the happiness of having her dream wedding, owe it to her after what we did. What we’ve been doing, for years,’ he says gently, and I nod, knowing he’s right. ‘Thank you, for marrying her. She’ll be happier than she’s ever been before,’ I say softly, and we smile sadly at one another.

We rise up from the bed and I walk him over to the door. ‘Remember,’ he says quietly, taking my hands into his again, ‘I’m the doting, head-over-heels, whipped yet annoyingly nonchalant and cocky husband, and you’re the supportive, over-the-moon, ecstatic yet annoyingly teasing and mischievous younger sister. Got it?’ I burst out laughing at his stupid descriptions of us, and he grins. ‘I’ll see you… at the wedding,’ he smiles, his voice tinged with sadness, and I nod, smiling sadly back as I say, ‘see you at the wedding.’

‘Speech! Speech!’ the crowd of our family and friends chant at Jisoo who holds the mic in her hand, laughing as she waits for them to quieten down so she can do her speech. Her smile is so big, and she looks so beautiful, so happy, absolutely radiant. Her dress is perfect for her, practically screams Jisoo – well, the whole wedding has screamed Jisoo. It’s her all over. She’s had her dream wedding, and I couldn’t be happier for her.

I just wish the cost of her happiness wasn’t my own.

It’s been difficult today, more difficult that I could’ve imagined. The worst part was being stood right beside Jungkook and Jisoo as they got married, said their vows, and praying Jisoo didn’t notice how often his eyes flitted to me. Being happy for Jisoo, though? That was the easiest part. Seeing her happy like this, knowing she’s dying soon, my happiness for her hasn’t been hard to fake. Even easier after I’ve been avoiding Jungkook all day, spending all possible time with Jimin instead.

And then the mic feedback sings out across the space, making everyone clap their hands over their ears. ‘Sorry, sorry. Shall I start?’ Jisoo asks, everyone laughing as Jungkook says, ‘yes, please,’ with an affectionate roll of his eyes, and she shoves him as he grins amusedly. He plays the role well.

Jisoo begins her speech by thanking everyone for flying out, thanking her bridesmaids for all their help and the hen party (which Jungkook pretends to scowl at), thanking the groomsmen for keeping Jungkook out of her hair during all the wedding planning, thanking all of both our family members and Jungkook’s that have helped out, and thanking both our parents and Jungkook’s for all of their support and help (and financial contribution which everyone lets out a hearty laugh at).

‘But I must give our biggest thank you to the two people that have helped out the most,’ she says, and I can already feel tears filling my eyes as she looks at me across the dancefloor. Jimin, sat beside me, coughs loudly, and Jisoo laughs. ‘Sorry, I mean, the three people that have helped out the most,’ she corrects herself, everyone laughing as Jimin puffs out his chest, making me roll my eyes at my eccentric best friend.

‘First, Jungkook’s brother, Hoseok. Thank you for coming to every single one of our different meetings and appointments and everything we needed you at, and not complaining at all. Thank you for accepting the fact that you couldn’t bring all of your old frat brothers to our wedding with such grace, and thank you for being a real support for me and Jungkook when things got stressful. I’m honoured to have been blessed with such a great brother-in-law, and I’m so grateful for the way you’ve welcomed me into your family with open arms,’ Jisoo says, her eyes on Hoseok, who looks awfully proud of himself, his eyes shining suspiciously bright, and I hear him shouting a moment later, ‘I’ve got allergies, I’ve got allergies!’

‘And onto my best friend… and her best friend. My beautiful y/n, you truly are my angel sent from above. Whilst Hoseok helped calm us down, you’re the one that gave us a kick up the arse when we were falling behind on planning. You were there for everything, absolutely everything, down to the miniscule things like deciding the font for the invitations, and the shade of blue for my earrings. You practically lived at our house, and so did Jimin. You’re the best Maid of Honour I could’ve ever asked for, and Jimin, you’re the best Vice Maid of Honour I could’ve asked for. You’ve both helped me out more than I can say, and I’m so grateful. We both are.

y/n, thank you for being the best sister ever. From when you were born, I knew I was lucky to have you, and you’ve never proven it more than during the wedding planning. I love you so much, my love, and I can’t wait to see you fall in love and get married so I can nag and annoy and bug you and your fiancé just as much as you did with us. Thank you,’ she says, her eyes shining, and tears run down my cheeks at how lovely her speech was. And also the fact that she won’t ever see me get married, because I’m in love with her husband.

‘I love you,’ I mouth at her across the space, and she grins her beautiful grin back at me, blowing me a kiss. And then she turns to Jungkook, handing him the mic, and he takes it with a smile.

‘I, um… gosh, Jisoo always was the clever one,’ he begins, everyone laughing as Jisoo shakes her head, and those of us that know him best know he’s just as clever as her. They’re practically a power couple; brains, looks, talent. Their kids will be like superheroes. ‘She’s said all of the ‘thank you’s, to be honest, but I just want to add to a couple of them,’ he says before thanking the staff, his groomsmen and the bridesmaids again, and then his and our parents.

Then he thanks his brother – well, it’s less of a ‘thank you’ and more of a roasting. But his smile and eyes are so full of love for his brother, and I’ve seen them together enough over the years to know that their bond is something special. Like mine and Jisoo’s, I guess.

Then he thanks Jimin (he’s practically preening at all the attention) for keeping Jisoo and I in check when we got overexcited/emotional/spent way too much, and for keeping their main wedding planner (me) sane, and also restraining me from throttling Jisoo when she turned into bridezilla.

And then Jungkook’s gaze turns towards me, and it’s like everyone disappears, like how that happens every time he looks at me. But I shake it off. Because here, today, we aren’t secret lovers. He’s the groom, I’m the Maid of Honour, and we’re in-laws now. And we have to be happy for Jisoo.

‘And y/n, the sister I would’ve preferred to be with, but she was taken when I met her,’ he jokes, everyone laughing as Jisoo slaps his shoulder with a grin. ‘Thank you, y/n, for everything you’ve done for us both. You’ve been there as long as I can remember, the annoying younger sibling – and, Jimin, the best friend that was attached to her hip – the two of you always wanting to hang out with the older kids. You’ve been in my life just as long as Jisoo has and, even though you’ve only been my sister-in-law for a few hours, you’ve been here all along. So thank you, for helping our dream wedding come true, and for being… you. I look forward to the day that we can see you get married… and our children can be your flower girls and page boys,’ he says, rounding off on a light note, and a gentle laugh runs around the wedding party.

Tears flow down my face, and everyone gives us indulgent smiles, in wonder at how close, how tight knit our family is. But Jungkook’s gaze lingers on me a little too long, and I see past the light grin, see through the cracks in his armour, see the way his eyes shine with tears, the way his top lip seems to quiver a little, the way his fist keeps clenching and unclenching. And it hurts. God, it really fucking hurts. And he can see how much it hurts, because his mask slips for a moment, and so does mine, before we both look away from one another.

He begins his speech for his wife, and I just know I can’t bear to listen, can’t bear to hear him spout lies, so I dismiss myself, giving Jimin the excuse of running up to my hotel room to fix my makeup and go for a wee. I rush past all the smiling faces, the soft breeze ruffling my hair and dress as I take the stairs that lead up from the beach and back into the hotel, but instead of turning left where all the rooms are, I turn right and run down towards where I know the hotel’s other stretch of beach is, tears running down my face.

I perch on a deck chair, the hem of my dress laying against the sand as I look out at the sea crashing against the shore, the setting sun reflected in the waves. My head finally calms, the tears coming to a stop as I listen to the sound of the sea, the rest of the world just melting away, everything else melting away. Jungkook, Jisoo, the fact that she’s ill, and the fact that she just married the boy I love, it all just… disappears from my head. For a few beautiful moments, there’s just me and the sea.

And then I hear footsteps approaching behind me. ‘y/n,’ I hear his voice, and I laugh, turning to him with a smile. ‘I swear to God, what can I do to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, and Hoseok bursts into laughter as he sits on the deck chair beside me. ‘I saw you leave. You okay? I know today must have been really hard for you,’ he begins, but I hold up a hand. ‘Please, Hoseok, don’t. I get that you mean well, but I really can’t talk about this,’ I say, and he nods, smiling sadly. ‘Okay. We won’t talk about it,’ he says simply, and I smile back before both of us turn to look out at the sea.

I met Hoseok when I was… 14? Maybe 15. He was the older brother of the boy that my sister was convinced she would marry, and also the older brother of the boy that had asked me on a date (despite being two years older than me), and I’d had to tell him I had a boyfriend (how I wish I’d just gone on the date with him all those years back). I was out with my friends once when we’d heard some boy shouting my name. We all turned to look, and saw Jeon Jungkook, the most desirable boy at our school, and who must have been his older brother – the resemblance was striking. It’d been Hoseok shouting my name, teasing Jungkook because of his crush on me.

The next time I saw Hoseok was when I was 16, and Jisoo had told our family that she was dating someone, but wanted us to meet their family before they made it official. Both mine and Jungkook’s jaws had dropped when I walked into his house – obviously the fact that I was Jisoo’s sister hadn’t come up in their conversation. I’d seen Hoseok plenty of times since then; he’d been at every birthday of our family’s, and I’d been at every birthday of their family’s – he even came to my graduation. It was a couple years ago that Hoseok and I became really good friends, and I’d broken down and confessed to him that I was love with his brother and had been the entire time he’d been dating my sister. He took it well – I’m guessing his reaction wouldn’t quite have been the same had I confessed that we’d also been sleeping together for a few years behind everyone’s backs.

Hoseok had been like an older brother to me, all of the annoying traits included, and he’d managed to whisk me away from tough situations (like family get-togethers) with excuses of having to get some more lemonade from the shop or pick some weed up from his dealer’s house (he’s always been very open about his smoking, and it hadn’t been long before Jungkook joined in too, but he kept it to a minimum when Jisoo was around – I’d been with him whilst he was high several times though. He’s cute when he’s high – soft and affectionate and needy).

‘Okay, I think we should head back. They might start worrying we’ve snuck off somewhere. You know, Maid of Honour, Best Man,’ he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and I shove him with a laugh, both of us rising up from our deck chairs. He holds an arm out to me, and I take it, and we walk back towards the wedding in a comfortable silence.

The air is still deliciously warm, the setting sun casting an orange glow over the atmosphere, the sky streaked with pastel colours as the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is faint, yet present. ‘Is my makeup okay?’ I ask as we approach the wedding, the music getting a little louder with each step. ‘It’s perfect. I would never have guessed you’ve been crying your eyes out,’ he teases, and I nudge him in annoyance.

And then I hear the DJ’s voice ring out into the air; ‘First song request of the night!’ With the invitations, they sent out song request cards for people to… request a song to be played at the wedding. I can’t even remember what I put down on mine. ‘This request is from the sister of the bride, our beautiful Maid of Honour! This is Perfect by Ed Sheeran and Beyoncé.’

‘How tasteless of you,’ Hoseok says, and I give him an indignant look, though I can’t help but feel dread at this song playing. ‘It’s romantic,’ I defend, and he rolls his eyes as we reach the rest of the wedding party. It’s like I can sense his eyes on me, and I turn to meet his gaze, and he grins, instantly making his way towards me. ‘Can I have this dance?’ he asks with shining eyes and a gentle grin, and Hoseok instantly removes his arm from mine as I take Jungkook’s hand, letting him pull me onto the dancefloor.

‘Why’d you choose this song, y/n?’ he asks teasingly as we glide around the floor, as though we’re one person in two different bodies, moving as one. ‘It’s romantic,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘So you don’t remember the piece of our history that’s attached to this song?’ he asks, and I avoid his gaze, embarrassed. ‘You’re a little minx choosing this song,’ he jokes, and I let out a laugh, our eyes meeting with amusement.

It was a couple weeks before his aunt’s wedding, four years ago, and he was taking Jisoo as his date. But he’d asked me to help him learn how to properly waltz so he could surprise and impress my sister at the wedding. So I’d gone over to his house, nobody else but us at home, and we’d spent hours trying to waltz with this song playing in the background. He eventually got the hang of it, but we’d gotten lost in each other’s eyes and he tripped over his own feet and we’d fallen to the floor, his body landing on top of mine.

That was the start of our affair.

‘Shall we waltz?’ he asks, and I laugh, nodding as we begin to waltz around the dancefloor. My dress swishes around our legs as my heels click against the temporary dancefloor they’d put down on top of the sand. He looks so handsome, in his black tux and white shirt open at the collar, having discarded his tie a couple hours ago, silver cufflinks sparkling at his wrists and silver earrings dangling from his ears.

‘You look so handsome,’ I whisper without even meaning to, and he grins. ‘Why, thank you, y/n. And you look so beautiful,’ he whispers back, sincerity in his voice. He’s changed so much in the past 24 hours. How could I have doubted his love for me, when it’s in his eyes every time he looks at me?

‘Thanks to your wife. The dress, the makeup, the hair, it was all her idea,’ I say, and he chuckles. ‘She’s not the one wearing it though,’ he says, and I laugh. My dress is floaty, strappy and sky-blue, the perfect summer bridesmaid dress, and blue flowers are woven into the braid that winds around my head, the rest of my hair falling in wavy sheets around my shoulders. And my makeup is soft and summery, faint blue eyes, glossy lips and shimmery cheekbones.

And then he starts singing along to the song, our feet still moving in a faultless waltz. I’m suddenly hyperaware of his hand on my lower back, too low, the other one clasped in mine, too tight, and we’re standing close, too close. But I don’t care to move, instead singing along too. And it’s as though he’s singing the lyrics to me, telling me I’m an angel, that he doesn’t deserve me, and that I look perfect. And I live in this little fantasy, in this world where we can love each other, hold each other, touch each other without all the guilt. In this world where he’s just a boy and I’m just a girl, and we’re just in love.

But then my eyes meet Jisoo’s across the dancefloor, and it takes me a moment to realise they’re full of tears. The second our eyes meet, she begins to walk towards us, and the fear of her knowing nearly paralyses me, and Jungkook can feel it, his body tensing as his eyes stay locked on my face. ‘Can I cut in?’ Jisoo’s voice comes from behind him, and he turns to see her there. ‘Yeah, of course,’ I say, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I was talking to him. I want to dance with you,’ she says gently, and Jungkook feigns hurt, pretending to march off in a huff as both of us laugh, watching him join his friends by the bar.

She holds her arms up in position, and I do the same, beginning to waltz with my sister now. She always used to lead, being the oldest and all, and that hasn’t changed, the girl spinning us around the floor flawlessly. ‘I need to say something, and I want you to listen to everything before you speak,’ she says, my heart nearly stopping with the fear of being caught out, and I nod wordlessly, trying to focus on the fact that there’s still a small smile on her face.

‘I love you. Just as much as I love him. Meaning I know you both very well. I’ve known for a while that there’s a boy in your life, whether or not he’s a boyfriend or just dating or just a crush. But I’ve known. And I’ve known there was someone else in his life. And we were near the end of our relationship when I found out that I’m ill, y/n, and I’m not going to get better. Don’t, don’t cry, we’ll come back to that. I really thought I knew everything, I thought I was so clever. But I didn’t know that his someone else was you and your someone was him,’ she says, my entire body going cold, but the smile still doesn’t disappear from her face.

‘How long? How long have you loved him?’ she asks, and I sigh. ‘Ji…’ ‘How long, y/n?’ ‘Since a month before we met his family,’ I admit sadly, and her mouth falls open. ‘y/n… why didn’t you say anything? I thought you were going to say a couple years. Not that long,’ she says sadly, and I shrug with a smile. ‘You were happy. I couldn’t ruin that,’ I say, and she smiles, eyes full with tears. ‘Thank you, y/n, for letting me have my dream wedding with the love of your life,’ she says, and I shake my head. ‘He’s the love of your life, not mine,’ I say, and now she shakes her head, still smiling the sad smile that breaks my heart.

‘He’s the love of both of our lives. Because I’m not going to be around much longer,’ she says, but I shake my head again, angry this time. ‘No, Jisoo, don’t say that.’ ‘It’s true, y/n, and I’m not going to drag out my suffering. I’m lucky if I have two years. So, please, don’t care what anyone else thinks once I’m gone. Marry him, spend your life with him, love him, because I want you to make him happy, and I want him to make you happy, but neither of you can do that whilst I’m still here.’ ‘Jisoo, don’t say that!’ ‘y/n, it’s true, we both know it is. You’re the loves of each other’s lives, and I won’t be the bitch sister who stops you from being happy.’

‘Jisoo, let’s not have this conversation on your wedding day. Please, just be happy today,’ I say sadly, and she nods, a big smile breaking across her face. ‘Okay. Thank you for making my wedding amazing. I love you, y/n.’ And then my eyes meet Jungkook’s, and it’s like he knows, because for the first time since I can remember, his gaze doesn’t have any sadness or yearning in it. No. This time, it’s just love, and happiness, and I smile back at him, before turning my smile to my sister, my heart swelling with love. ‘I love you, too, Jisoo.’

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

After a month in chastity, I think Huni deserves to get his whussy (whore pussy) wrecked by Daruk, don’t you?

Imma do this, instead of answering the fucking arbys shit, fuck you.

Fuck Rhoam. His royal high ass kept his pussy in a cage. Not just for a session-but a whole MONTH. He was FINALLY given a chance to be free, and at first, he was just going to jerk it until he passed out. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to not just cum, he wantes his toes to curl, his eyes to roll to the back of his head.

He wanted a big, damn near scary cock. And according to Kohga, that meant he neeced some Goron meat. And since Huni was the prettiest Gerudo, he deserved the sexiest Goron. As in, Daruk. Big muscles, big ol' stomach, and LOTS of hair- dude was a TOTAL stud with a sweetheart of a personality.

"Hey! You wanted to see me?"

Being the king's whore made him pretty important, so him summoning one of the champions wasn't so odd. Though, summoning him to his own little play room WAS a bit odd. Huni turned to look at him, barely able to keep himself hidden in his robe.

"Daruk, sooo glad you could make it. I've had SUCH a pain in my back, and I heard you Goron's are famous for your massages."

"We are, but its usually over a hot rock slab, I-"

Huni put on such a sad face, and of course, Daruk couldn't refuse him. He sighed, motioning to his bed.

"Suppose I can TRY. Can't guarantee I'll get any kinks out though."

Oh he will. Whether he knew it or not. Huni hopped into bed, sighing as he got comfy. Daruk was about to put his hands on him, when Huni whined.

"Daruk. I don't mean to be a pest, but could you...well. You know, never mind, I'm sorry."

Daruk looked down at him, clearly willing to listen.

"No no, what is it? I wanna make you comfortable."

Oh such a sweet, stupid man. He faked a sad face.

"I was just...could you get nude too? I'm in this little robe, and I just feel like I'd feel less...judged. You understand."

He didn't, but that didn't matter. Daruk was too sweet to refuse him.

"Uh, sure, if it helps you? I'll put it back on if you're uncomfortable too."

Daruk didn't move away from him, putting on QUITE the show for him. First came off the weapon, then the chain, then, finally, that pesky Goron underwear. Oh Huni could swoon. He. Was. HUGE. Dear god, a giant, scaley cock, with a matching set of balls. And this was him FLACCID.

"You're okay with this?"

"Oh yeah, totally. I'm like, SO much more comfortable now. You’re a sweetie, Daruk."

Daruk chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. Aside from rich asshole daddies, Huni was GREAT at reeling in one other type; buff dumbasses with huge hearts. And suffice to say, Daruk was caught in his little whore web.

"No problem. Sorry if I'm a bit rough. Revali says I dunno my own strength."

Holy SHIT his pussy was wet.

"Oh don't worry. I can handle a big guy like you. Now quit teasing! My back is just, awful."

Daruk did as he said. His hands were on him in an instant, digging his big fingers into his own soft skin. Oh they were ROUGH, and it made Huni just melt under him like butter.

"You good down there?"

"Oh...definitely. You're a god send, Daruk. Though...I'd love for you to go a little lower."

Daruk obeyed. His hands were now just RIGHT above his ass. His body was already sore from his handiwork, but he didn’t care in the slightest.

"Where exactly is that knot? I can't...find it?"

Huni was lost in thought for a moment, letting himself get touched all over by those absolutely beastly hands.

"Hmmm...maybe try getting in front of me. Might get a better angle."

"Worth a shot."

Daruk moved till he was right in front of him, before leaning over and reaching for his lower back. Huni felt himself drool as he looked in front of him. His cock was RIGHT there, just tempting him. He swore he could even feel the heat coming off his massive frame.

"You feel it, big guy?"

"Not...exactly? I'll keep looking though, I'd be embarrassed if I left without making you feel better."

Oh that was it. He was fucking getting it. Huni was unable to resist, and he leaned forward, wrapping his mouth around the thick head. Daruk jumped a bit, having to hold onto the table in order to keep either of them from falling.

"Woah woah! What are you-"

"You said you wanted to make me feel better, right? Come on, make me feel better~"

Daruk stammered in response, but he didn’t push Huni away. He stayed still, as if testing the waters. Huni could sway him, he was sure of it. He fit as much of him as he could, slurping and licking. Oh the scales made for such a new, yummy texture, he was obsessed. He felt himself whimper as Daruk pulled him away, already lightly panting.

"I...are you sure you wanna do this? What about Rh-"

"He's fine with it, trust me. Now get over here, I'm not done sucking that cobble crusher of yours~"

Rhoam WASN’T okay with this. He'd be FURIOUS if he knew Huni was getting destroyed by Goron cock. But sweet Daruk didn't need to know that. Huni got him to sit on the floor, before undoing his robe, letting it fall to the floor. Daruk chuckled.

"You planned this, didn't you?"

"You act like you've never thought about it. And its not my fault, look at how wet you made me."

Huni walked over to him, laying on him with his pussy facing him, and his face right in front of that semi hard cock. Daruk chuckled, holding onto Huni's cheeks, and parting them, getting a good look at his soaked pussy.

"Take it you like my hands."

"And you like MY mouth."

He was a bit of a spicy boy, and in a way, it made this more fun. Huni helped himself to more of that cock, one hand used to keep himself from falling, and the other to hold onto his growing gerth. Oh the way his scales glided against his tongue, the way the smell of dirt and flint tickled his nose. As is that wasn’t enough; Daruk was fascinated with his ass, massaging them and fondling them and making juices drip down his legs and-

"You wanna see what these hands can really do?"

Oh what a naughty, naughty boy, Daruk. Huni pulled away, spitting onto his cock and continuing to stroke him furiously.

"Fucking hell-you better finger my fucking pussy right now."

He turned to look at Daruk, who gave a small salute in understanding. Then he stopped being so nice. Shoving not one, but TWO of his big sausage fingers right into his pussy. And he wasn't gentle. His fingers pumped in and out of him quickly, making pussy juices soak his hand and onto the floor.

"Oh FUCK!! Oh that's it, milk my fucking pussy!!!"

He couldn’t even focus on sucking. He was barely able to stroke him, just melting on top of Daruk like hot butter. He had only been doing it for a few seconds, and he was already going to fucking cum. Then, he suddenly pulled out, leaving Huni feeling empty, and just absolutely desperate. Daruk chuckled.

"Hey hey. Let's not forget the main event."

Daruk reached over, smudging Huni's face against his giant, hard, hot, leaking gerth. Oh Huni could have this cock in his face as if it was makeup. Daruk was sweet, and yet, he was still a bully. He loved it.

"Fucking shit- stop teasing me and give it to me, you fucking-"

Daruk didn't let him finish as he picked Huni up, held onto his thighs, and sank that soaked pussy right onto his cock. HOW that managed to fit, no one had a clue, but that didn't matter. It fit, it stuffed him fully, and he was seeing fucking stars.

And then Daruk decided he REALLY liked that pussy. He wasn't gentle as he slammed into him, holding onto his frame as he rutted against him like he was a goddamn sex toy. His breath was hot against his neck, his grip was strong on her pretty legs, his balls smacking against him in his fury-it was fucking everything. Huni reached a hand behind him, grabbing a fistful of that gorgeous hair, and using his other hand to furiously rub his clit.

"FUCKING SHIT!!! FUCK ME! RUIN MY FUCKING PUSSY WITH THAT GORON COCK!"

Daruk didn't even bother telling him to shut up. He just did as he was told; satisfying his insides with his scales, giving him the texture the likes of which he's NEVER had. Then Huni came. Oh he came, screaming out all types of swears as his pussy gushed all over that destructive dick. And Daruk fucked him right through it, right until HE came.

And holy SHIT, that was enough to almost make him cum again. Goron cum felt so different than Hylian cum. It was hotter, MUCH thicker, it was like stuffing his pussy full of hot cream. Daruk pulled out after a second, groaning loudly as he came all over him. His stomach, his chest, and his face- all covered in Goron cum. It even tasted good, like a nice, spicy/sweet drink. They sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, when Huni chuckled.

"Say 'cheese', big guy!"

Huni grabbed onto his face, winking at the camera, while Daruk looked a bit bashful. Oh this was going to be his new wallpaper.

And Daruk was his new toy.

[gxdsfavgal]

hi (: can you do a smut with Bucky with shy reader and there’s some cock warming and fluff

Feel You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI,SMUT, fluff, intercourse (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), praise kink (i think), cum play??

A/N: so sorry this took so long, smuts are honestly difficult for me to write bc you have to find the right words to describe it... ALSO i feel like i suck at writing smut but I try lmao

GIF by @chrishemsworht

-

-

It was a rainy day at the compound and everyone was either staying in or out running errands. I’ve been working with the team for a few months now, and it’s been great.

Working with the team is how I met Bucky, we’ve been hanging out together for a while now. We got close and a couple of weeks ago we made it official.

We haven’t done much but make out here and there, we never had the time. It was always training every other day, night look outs, or just long missions.

And today wasn’t any different, Bucky trained for hours like he always did.

Though, it was after his training now. He showered, got all cleaned up, and now he was just at the sink with the towel around his waist.

“Hungry?” I asked him as kissed his shoulder and wrapped my arms around him from behind.

“Always.” He smiled at me from the mirror as I peeked over his side.

I gave him another kiss on the shoulder before leaving the room to go to the kitchen.

There I began to cook Kraft mac and cheese, I was the one who introduced it to Bucky and he has loved it every since.

Foot steps were heard coming towards the kitchen.

“Mmm my favorite.” Bucky exclaimed as he looked at the food over my shoulder, his bare chest against my clothes back.

“I know. We have to buy more, there is only two boxes left” I poured as I pointed at the pantry with the spoon I was using to mix.

He grabbed his flip phone and proceeded to try to make a note to buy some.

“I got it” I took his phone from him, setting it on the table as I told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to order some.

The macaroni was done so I scooped some into a bowl for Bucky. I handed him his food as jumped onto the kitchen island, my legs getting a few goosebumps since I was wearing some pajama short paired with a crewneck he lended me.

He leaned against the counter across from me. The bowl in his hand while he was shoveling the pasta into his mouth.

“Want some?” he asked me as he held out the bowl towards me.

I shook my head side to side and opened up my arms, signaling for him to come towards me.

He walked over to me, standing in between my knees as he tried to feed me a fork piled with elbow pastas.

I kept my lips closed but he pushed the mac and cheese onto my lips, leaving the yellow and orange residue on my lips and chin.

“Buck!” I squealed as he tried to feed me once again.

“What?” he chuckled as he looked at me like he didn’t do anything.

“Look at me. Now I have cheese all over my lips!” I rolled me eyes sarcastically.

“Don’t worry doll, I can take care of that.” He sent me a devilish grin as he put down his bowl while his metal arm held my face in place as his tongue dragged across my lips.

My mouth opening in response, able to taste the salty creaminess of the cheese on his tongue. Our lips and tongues moved in sync, slow, and intimate.

Both his arms circled around my waist, hoisting me up off of the counter. My ankles hook onto each other at the small of his back as he carries me.

My arms wrap around his neck as he walks us to the couch in the living room, laying me down gently with him towering over.

I feel him grounding his hips onto my pubic bone, he grunts into our kiss as I am unable to find words of what I want.

“Buck-“ I mumbled out of our kiss.

He pulls away, his metal arm pressed against the cushion by my ear, he looks down at me with a worried face, eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s wrong doll? Are we going to fast? We can slow down if you want.” His other hand is sprawled on my cheek, his callused thumb rubbing over my bottom lip.

I sucked in a breath, looking at his lips and also at his blue eyes.

“I want you Buck, I really do. It’s just—“

“You’re not ready?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“No no. I am ready, it’s just I want to feel you.” I mentally face palmed myself. “God I sound so stupid!” I exclaimed.

“You don’t sound stupid. If that’s what you want then I will gladly do that for you.” He said into my neck as he chuckled and peppered kisses.

His metal arm wrapped around my waist, quickly turning us both so I am straddling his waist.

My hips and his moved into each other, the friction got us more into it. My pajama shorts felt too much, and his sweatpants were restraining him.

“Shit!” I pulled back from our kiss, taking off my shorts as he took off his sweatpants, both of us in our underwear.

I look down at him as I straddle him, his dick wanting to spring out and my core leaving drenched markings.

“What if someone sees us?” I looked at him as I chewed my bottom lip nervously.

He cupped my cheeks, pulling my face down to his so our foreheads were resting against each other. “Then let’s put on a show”

He placed his lips on mine as he shimmies out of his underwear from under me, leaving them hanging by his knees.

His dick laying on his stomach as my clothed core rubbed on it.

I pulled myself away from the kiss, looking down at his cock. The tip red, precum leaking out, veins on the underside, and the dark curls on his surface. He was gorgeous.

“You ready doll?” he looks up at me, his hand in a fist around his dick, pumping it a few times.

I look down at him with a quick nod, lifting my left up on my knees as his cold metal fingers moved my underwear to the side. His tip ran through my slits, collecting my slick.

His tip reaches my center, his hands under my sweatshirt and at my waist, slowly bringing me down his length.

My eyes squint from the stretch, tears slightly form at the corners of my eyes as I feel the pain and pleasure.

I finally and filled to the hilt, stretched out, and my bottom against his skin.

My hands rest onto his chest, taking deep breaths as I try to adapt to the length and thickness.

“How about we just stay like this for a while, huh?” He caresses light circles on my sides.

I whimper with a nod as I lay my face into his neck, breathing in his husky scent from his shampoo.

“You are doing so good.” he kissed the shell of my ear as I kept his length inside of me.

I clench once in a while when Bucky would shift his movements, and when I do, I am able to feel him twitch inside of me and his face stills.

“You can move now.” I mumbled into his neck.

“Are you sure?” he looks down at me with tentative eyes.

“Yes.” I smile as I press my lips onto his.

As our kiss intense, his hips roll up into me, causing both of us to groan and moan into each other’s mouths.

His arms wrap around my waist tightly so I am flush against his chest, his feet as planted onto the couch sofa. He lifts up his hip, our skins slapping and echoing throughout the living room.

“Fuck Bucky!” I moaned out as his tip his my g-spot perfectly.

“Yeah, you like that! Fuck! You’re beautiful!” He groaned as beads of sweat dripped from both of us.

I chuckle as his hips snap up into my dripping core.

“m’close” I was able to make out as our breaths stuttered from the speed.

“Cum for me doll, cum on my cock.” he muttered out.

Stars began to form in my eyesight as he thrusts up into me, I felt like I was melting. I was at my peak, white, hot flashes of neon streamed through my eyes.

His eyes stayed on me as he watched me breathing in and gushing out with pleasure, his hips moving against mine.

His thrusts faltering, getting weaker than stronger, his length twitching within me. He raises me off of his hilt, I feel empty.

“Fuck!” he grumbled out as he climaxed and emptied out on his stomach.

I look at him panting, his chest sinking and rising. His cum pooled on his stomach and chest. I stayed sitting on his thighs, looking down at him as he tried to calm himself.

I let my finger dip into his liquid, drawing figure 8’s. Bucky lifts his head up to see what I was doing, I see him grin at me.

I bring my finger up to my tongue, swiping his seed to get a taste. The sweet and saltiness stayed on my tongue.

“You’re heavenly” he cupped my face and kissed me, getting a taste of his own.

Soon after, we quickly cleaned ourselves up before any of the team members got home or saw Bucky naked and I, half naked on the couch.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Black Lives Matter, @travellingriverside donated $52, and requested Sam/Dean mommy!kink. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts)

One of Sam’s earliest memories is of Dean washing his hair. Most of his early memories circle around Dean, one way or another--reading together, wrestling for blankets in their shared bed, playing Space Invaders at the arcade with Sam standing on a crate to reach--but that one feels different. In his less self-forgiving moments, he thinks that’s where the trouble started.

In the memory he’s really small--four maybe, though he’s never had a good way of tracking that kind of thing. The houses and apartments and motels changed too much and every old flash of time feels like it’s from a different life. Wherever they were, the bathroom was yellow, and he had a chipped Superman action figure who was swimming in the bath with him, and Dean was kneeling right next to the tub and he was wearing a purple t-shirt that Sam had soaked wet to black. Dean was teasing like he usually did, but Sam doesn’t remember it being mean-spirited like sometimes it could get later. Dean massaged the shampoo into his hair and it smelled like chemical peach, and he said tip your head back, kiddo when it was time to rinse, and Sam did and laughed when the water splashed all over. When the bubbles were gone Dean had him stand up and wrapped him up in a towel, and it felt--safe. He was happy.

Things weren’t as happy, later. He learned things he’d desperately wanted to know, and regretted it when he did. It got worse, between him and Dad. Between him and Dean sometimes, too, and that was way more gutting. Sometimes Dean would be gone, and it’d just be Sam and Dad, and that was miserable--silent car rides, mechanical conversation. Dinner would be whatever takeout Dad could manage and at bedtime Sam would lay curled up all alone and wish desperately that Dean was there so that even if they kicked at each other and wrestled and Dean called him a dumb squirt, when it was time to actually sleep he could lay his head on Dean’s chest or curl up against his back, and it’d feel safe again, like it never did when Dean was gone.

Thirteen and Sam was all torn-up inside. Dean teased him for not flirting with girls but girls weren’t what Sam wanted. Sure, he liked the stuff he saw sometimes, when a skinmag got left out or when Dean thought he was sneaking a porno when Sam was asleep--tits and pussy, soft skin, pretty lips, pretty faces. There was one Playboy that he about rubbed himself raw over--he got it. But it wasn’t--enough. It wasn’t what he thought about, in the middle of the night, and what he had to creep out of their bed and shut himself into the bathroom and freak out about. Soft skin, and pretty lips, and even--even tits, sure, because--at seventeen Dean was the prettiest thing Sam had ever seen, and even if Dean hit a growth spurt and was getting shoulders like a man and he was all tall, he was still--soft, in their bed, and his body was--was Sam’s, the way all the random pornstars and actresses and girls at school weren’t, and never would be. Dean would make dinner, mac & cheese & hamburger just like Sam liked it, and he’d ruffle Sam’s hair and smile at him, and Sam would chub up right there at the formica table, and he’d eat all strangled-up while Dean yessir nosirred Dad, and he’d use the excuse of reading for school to sneak off to bed early, and lay there in the dark with his face buried in Dean’s pillow, hand crammed down his shorts, thinking--what the hell? what the hell?

Later--it got worse. He left. He met a girl. He tried his best. It didn’t escape his notice that she had soft skin and green eyes and fair hair and that when she wanted to make him dinner for a date night he asked completely unthinking for mac & cheese & hamburger, and she laughed and said, “Really?” but she made it, and it was--higher quality, more skill put in, and wasn’t nearly as good. In bed she didn’t mind if he lay with his head on her chest and felt the rise of her tits, and she liked getting fucked with him spooned up behind her, so that was--okay. He could make it. He--he was almost sure he could make it.

Later--worse again. Better, because there was Dean, but Dean didn’t cook anymore and he didn’t share Sam’s bed, and he wore a big square leather jacket that made him look like he was trying to be Dad. They were brothers, of course, and Dean teased and got mad, but it wasn’t--it wasn’t the same as it had been. It was harder. Some days when it was the worst it could be Sam went and hid in the bathroom and everything in him wanted to just curl up, get taken care of. Wanted those old days, of baths and food, of Dean touching his hair like he did, of warmth, of softness. They weren’t on the table though, and he didn’t think they ever would be again. It wasn’t worth pining for, though, because there was work to be done, so: he squared his shoulders, and washed his face, and went out and faced the world.

Later--Dean kissed him. He kissed Dean, and then they did rather more than kissing. The world they’d saved didn’t end. They really were the days of miracles. Finally getting to touch Dean like he’d always dreamed about didn’t fix things, but it sure didn’t make them worse, and the world still rattled on ridiculously and had to be saved over and over again, but--

They end up living in a bunker. Ridiculous, but it could be worse. Dean picks a room, says, “This is going to be awesome,” and he’s happy in a way he hasn’t been in months and so Sam smiles at him, and fucks him right there on the ancient creaking bed, and Dean gasps and eggs him on and then afterward, when they’re laying next to each other and panting, he says, “Man, this mattress sucks,” and he goes shopping.

They have some downtime. No worlds ending, right away. Dean throws himself into the bunker the same way Sam throws himself into the bunker’s records, and while Sam categorizes knowledge and history and lore Dean nests like Sam never knew he could. New soft mattress, new clothes. He cooks again and it’s--amazing. Sam moans, with that first bite of friggin’ perfect hamburger, and Dean grins at him and squeezes his shoulder, and it--oh. Something swirls warm in Sam’s stomach and he swallows, wonders. Remembering.

“I gotta learn to make pie,” Dean says, in bed that night, and Sam kisses the back of his shoulder, doesn’t think much of it, until the next day Dean comes back home from the store with a box of fresh peaches, and Sam comes over to investigate just as Dean bites into one and the ripe smell of the sunwarm skin drifts over Dean’s shoulder, and Sam’s--hard, instantly, his whole body turning on all at once like someone found his levers and threw every one to max.

“Whoa,” Dean says, when Sam grabs him, but he grins and revs up right away because Dean always does. He kisses back, easy, tasting like peach, and Sam groans and drags him to the table, settles him on his ass and starts stripping him, right there. Dean laughs, letting Sam tug off his boots. “We haven’t fucked in here yet, this is awesome,” he says, but Sam’s thinking of--god, his ass, and he goes to his knees on the concrete floor, spreads him wide, licks in. Dean groans wild, up above, gets his hand in Sam’s hair, and--and Sam can’t wait, he can’t wait, but he eats at Dean sloppy and pushes in his fingers and makes him as soft as he can, as open, knowing at least that Dean wants it as much as he does. When Dean’s moaning he stands up, undoes his jeans--spits wet for his dick, fists himself and pushes in--and Dean flinches up into it but moans, wraps his legs around Sam’s hips and his arms around Sam’s shoulders, and Sam shudders and buries his face down by Dean’s throat and crams himself in, overcome.

God, god--Dean still smells like peach, his fingers juicy-sticky as he touches Sam’s cheek, his hair. “Fuck,” Sam says, digging in deeper, and Dean hiccups almost as Sam starts grinding in, not enough wet to make it easy but god, he’s tight and warm, letting Sam in. “That good? God, you feel--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean pants back, digging a heel into Sam’s ass, and Sam spits more wet down between them and then starts really giving it to Dean, shoving in, wild--and he starts talking too, because he never can seem to help himself and Dean loves it, anyway, goes bright red and laughs and comes faster when Sam’s telling him all the ridiculous nasty things he’s thinking, and Sam’s going hard, holding Dean’s ass up with one hand and bracing himself with the other and talking soft into Dean’s ear and smelling it, everywhere, like the whole kitchen’s full of that ancient memory, and he babbles you feel so good, you’re incredible, I want to fuck you like this all the time, god, Dean, your pussy’s perfect and Dean gasps, grabs Sam’s hair, because they’ve played with that a little before but it always drives Dean absolutely nuts--and Sam groans and leans into it, slamming him, feeling his gut curl up tight and Dean’s breath come faster, and he says yeah, yeah you like that, me talking about your pussy, god--I’m gonna come in there, cream you up, and you want it, don’t you? you want it like that, up inside, want me to get you all knocked up, get you pregnant--

“Sammy,” Dean says, clawing at Sam’s shoulder, arching up, and Sam presses his face down into Dean’s throat and hitches his ass into just the right place and the words come like from the pit of his gut, no passing his brain, no hesitation--he says, “You’re gonna be so good, Mom--” and he comes then--hard, brutal--curling forward, gasping, and Dean’s tight around him and his hands are in Sam’s hair and he’s holding him deep, warm, safe, and Sam comes back to normal brain function only slowly, and only when Dean’s stroking his shoulders, slow and soft, does Sam realize what he said.

“Jesus,” he blurts out, jerking, and Dean makes a soft ah sound as Sam twitches, still buried inside. “Jesus--sorry, I--”

“Wondered how long it’d take,” Dean says, dry, but he’s still all wrapped up around Sam and still, oh, hard--Sam didn’t take care of him, god--and Sam starts to shift up, away, but Dean holds him, keeps his head down tight against his shoulder. Sam braces, curled over, awkward now that he’s not wound up with his dick doing the thinking. “Sammy.”

He closes his eyes. “Sorry.”

Dean flicks the back of his head. “Quit it.” Sam licks his lips. Dean pets his hair back, gentle like he still is, sometimes. “You been thinking about that, huh? New level of freaky, even for us, you know.” It’s surprisingly quiet and nonjudgmental, considering. Sam shifts, his dick still half-hard. “What’ve you been coming up with in that massive noggin? What--me all barefoot in the kitchen? Your little wife?”

“Not exactly,” Sam says, mortified, and Dean hums thoughtfully and then squeezes Sam’s hips between his thighs, and then he picks up Sam’s head from his shoulder and presses a kiss against his forehead, soft, and that’s--

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says, easy, and his face is bright red but he--he gets it, all the way, because Dean always knows what Sam wants when it comes to this even if Sam’s too fucked-up about it to say it, has known ever since that first time when Sam was torn up with wanting him and Dean said fuck this and dragged Sam’s head down to kiss him, the night unfurling with possibility around them. Dean smiles at him, soft, and tucks Sam’s hair behind his ears, and he says, impossibly he says: “I’ve got you, baby. Let’s finish up and I’ll make you some dinner, okay? Whatever you want.”

Sam’s mouth feels dry. “Mac and cheese,” he says, brainless, hardening up again, and Dean half-laughs, nods, says, “Sure thing,” and Sam pushes up and kisses him, grateful, and Dean holds him, safe.

[bcbdrums]

Talk To Me

A/N: When you can't sleep at 3:00 AM you write fanfic. Hope it's coherent. Drakgo of course!

FFn link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13632340/1/Talk-To-Me

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

The noises coming from the lab had Shego rolling her eyes before the door even opened. The way Drakken was carrying on, it either meant he had discovered a fatal flaw in an idea he had been working on, or else he simply couldn't think of anything and was throwing a tantrum.

Sure enough, when the lab door slid open Shego was met with the scene of at least a dozen crumpled papers littering the floor beneath Drakken's workstation, and the man himself pacing the length of the lab with a furious and frustrated expression as he muttered to himself.

Shego found herself smirking rather than groaning as she had begun to find some of his behaviors endearing as of late. She crossed the room silently, the blue man oblivious to her presence, and she picked up one of the crumpled papers and unfolded it. She was curious as to what was so important this time.

As she glanced down at the paper where a list had been scrawled with each item then crudely crossed out, her brow furrowed.

'Dinner.' 'Movie.' 'Musical theater.' 'Roller-skating.' 'Ice-skating.' 'Walk in the park.'

Each item on the list seemed to be plans for going out, as if he'd been making plans for his weeknights rather than world take-over. Shego picked up another paper and unfolded it.

'Trip to the zoo.' 'Safari.' 'Sky-diving.' 'Blimp ride.'

Like the previous paper, each item was crossed out. This paper had a massive 'NO!' written on it beneath the other items, so harshly that the pencil had almost gone through the paper.

Shego dropped the two papers in favor of leaning over the one still sitting on Drakken's work-station. It had a single item with two question marks at the end and has also been crossed out viciously.

'Romantic night in?'

It dawned on Shego all at once that the papers weren't lists for evil plots nor for Drakken's weekly schedule. The lists were all date ideas.

"Hey Dr. D.?"

"Nyahh!"

Drakken had jumped with a loud shout and was clutching his chest as he stared at her in a mixture of annoyance and anxiety.

"Shego!" he gasped as he saw the papers in her hand. "What do you want? Don't...don't bother with those!"

Shego leaned against the desk and waved the two papers she held. "I came to see what plan had you so worked up this time. But I guess you've been working on something else."

"Don't look at those, those are all...those are all failed ideas."

Shego glanced back at one of the lists. "They look like date ideas to me... 'Dinner'? Why is that a failed idea?"

Drakken hesitated, glancing away briefly before bringing his hands together in front of him and tugging anxiously at the fingers of his gloves.

"We've been out to dinner twice already," he said.

"'Movie?'"

"We've seen three movies together," Drakken said, taking a step closer.

Shego glanced back at the lists she held. "'Roller-skating? Sky-diving?' We haven't done most of these other things," she commented.

Drakken took another step closer. Shego saw his eyes dart to the paper on the table before his face fell. "Yes, but...but all those things, and...everything else I can think of are just... They're just..."

"What?"

"They're boring compared to the way you're used to living."

Shego considered his thought process and the items on the lists.

"I don't go sky-diving," she said.

"You do more thrilling things than that during our schemes," Drakken reasoned.

"I've never been on a safari."

Drakken shook his head as he snatched the paper off the table and stuff it into his coat pocket. "You'll...be put off by all the insects, and the atmosphere, and the tour group..."

Shego wanted to roll her eyes at his logic, but the distressed look on his face told her it would only add to his anxiety. He was trying to come up with a date that she would really enjoy. She couldn't really fault him for trying to consider her feelings. She wouldn't enjoy being in a tour group... And their plots usually did involve far more daring action than simple sky-diving. And while she'd not asked about some of the others, she could follow his logic: musical theater was a lot of sitting through what may end up to be a lousy show, and skating would also involve crowds and not much action.

"Well what's wrong with that one?" she asked, pointing to his pocket. "'Romantic night in'?"

Drakken blushed and looked at his hand in his pocket briefly. "It...it just falls apart like the rest of them. I'm sorry Shego, I know we haven't been out for over a week but...if you just give me some time I'm sure I can think of—"

"Why does it fall apart?"

"...What?"

"The romantic night in. Why wouldn't it work? What was your idea?"

Drakken swallowed nervously. "I... I thought I might cook a nice dinner, and dessert... Maybe...eat on the balcony. Some candle-light..."

Shego nodded with a small, thoughtful smirk. "That's a good start. Then what?"

Drakken glanced away as his face flushed again. "After dinner, we could...sit by the fire and have a small drink of your choosing?"

Shego's smirk grew as she envisioned cuddling up next to him with his arm around her as they had something rather more than a 'small drink' as he'd put it. That was an idea she could definitely get behind, especially considering how much closer it would bring them. The boldest move Drakken had made with her save their first kiss—which she had initiated—was to hold her hand once in the last few minutes of a movie they had seen. And judging by the nervous sweat to his palm, it had taken him the entire movie to work up the courage to do so.

"I like that—"

"But it just falls apart like the others," he said, tossing his hands up weakly as his shoulders hunched and he turned away, his expression growing more anxious.

Shego frowned. "Why does it fall apart?"

Drakken had crossed to the other side of the lab again. His shoulders hunched further at her words.

"N-never-mind, just...I'll think of something. Something for this weekend, I promise!"

Shego slowly approached him. "But a romantic night in sounds...well, really great. Why can't we do that?"

Drakken turned to watch her over his shoulder. She could see his mind was racing, debating himself over whatever was the problem in his mind. She knew the best way to persuade him would just be to look pleased with the idea, and that was easy to do since she was.

After several seconds Drakken swallowed and slowly nodded, the anxiety in his eyes only growing.

"All right. Romantic night in it is," he said, his voice shaking a bit.

Shego watched as his frame remained tense when he passed her and began scooping up all the crumpled papers and dumping them into the wastebasket. Her smile faded. Even though she was happy, he still wasn't?

"Doc... Come on, what gives? I said I like the idea."

He looked at her again and she saw as this time he truly assessed her instead of just spinning the wheels in his head. The anxiety in his eyes faded slightly.

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

The relief seemed to have been temporary, Shego realized on Saturday night. The dinner Drakken had cooked had been delicious, and for dessert he had prepared a cheese and fruit platter to go with the glasses of wine they were having as they adjourned to the den. She had known he was still worried about something by the kink he'd had in his brow all evening, but it became much more apparent when she had sat in his lap in his great chair rather than sitting in her own.

The flush to his face was calming down, but the anxiety in his eyes continued to rise. He had moderated it by explaining in detail about the cheeses he had selected. Shego was glad to see the complicated and lengthy talk calming him until he abruptly stopped halfway through describing the last cheese, bit his lip, and finished with a simple 'it pairs with figs.'

Shego frowned at him as he carefully prepared a bite of the first cheese—a creamy brie—on a cracker with a slice of apple for her. She set her wine glass on the end table next to the cheese platter as she studied him. The evening had been very nice—flawless, in fact—so far. What on earth could be wrong?

When the decadent bite had been prepared, Drakken turned to offer it to her. He seemed to realize then just how close she was, sitting in his lap. Shego began to lift her hand to receive the offered morsel, when another idea occurred to her. She parted her lips instead and gave him a playful look. Drakken blinked and drew back in surprise, but then with a renewed flush to his face he placed the bite into her mouth, his thumb and finger brushing against her lip.

Shego briefly forgot the awkwardness he seemed determined to bring to their date night as she enjoyed the expensive treat.

"It's delicious!" she declared a moment later, opening her eyes. She hadn't even realized she'd closed them.

Drakken smiled and ate his own bite of the same cheese and fruit combo, and Shego lifted her wine glass to take a drink. She watched Drakken prepare a second taste of a different combination as he slowly chewed his bite, and she thought again of how perfect the evening had been. He hadn't even protested her sitting in his lap, though he definitely hadn't expected it.

Maybe after their savory dessert and a bit more wine she could tempt him into a second kiss. And a third. And a fourth...

No sooner had she swallowed the wine than the next bite was offered to her, and again she parted her lips for him to feed it to her. She gave him a slightly less playful look that time and brought a touch of seduction to her eyes. By the rapid way he glanced away, she knew he had read her correctly.

They made their way through the cheese platter in a near-identical pattern, with him feeding her bites and then taking his own. She occasionally sipped her wine in between or commented on the cheese. He appeared a bit more relaxed, as he had with dinner, but the small kink in his brow remained. She couldn't do any better in reading what might be bothering him since he wasn't saying much, and then she realized...he had hardly spoken all evening.

Except to explain what they were eating and drinking at each stage of the meal, he had barely attempted any conversation. The most he had actually said was when he had started to explain about each cheese and the processes by which they were made and why they paired with certain fruits—an explanation which he had abruptly halted for no reason.

They finished their final morsel of cheese, and Drakken's expression was growing more concerned. Shego watched him lift his wine glass, start to sip from it, and then stop suddenly and set it down. He had barely had a quarter of the glass, while Shego was nearly finished with hers.

"Hey...Dr. D.?" she began, starting to worry for the first time herself.

He looked up nervously. "Yes?"

"Are you having a good time?"

His face cleared slightly and a shy smile appeared as he nodded. Then he startled suddenly as the anxiety returned.

"Are you? Having a good time?" he echoed.

"Yes..." she said as she nodded. The evening was perfect... Except that it wasn't. "So...what's bothering you then?"

Drakken reached for his wine glass and began taking a large swallow, but then seeming to realize what he was doing looked panicked and set the glass down again. He took a slow breath and then gave her a thin smile.

"Nothing," he said.

Shego studied his guarded expression as her mind began going through everything. He had worked himself into a nervous wreck trying to come up with a really nice date... And she understood, after their two dinners out, their three movies, and their one night dancing. Drakken never did anything halfway; a nicer date was probably overdue in his mind. And he had succeeded. Except he didn't seem convinced of it.

"This was a really great idea. I'll bet there's a lot more in those papers in the wastebasket," she said.

She watched as the wheels slowly turned in Drakken's head. "You could...look through them and see if there's an idea you like. For...next weekend?"

Shego grinned and nodded. "I'm sure I'll find a lot."

Drakken smiled, though the kink in his brow remained. "All right."

Shego was startled suddenly as Drakken made to stand up. She slid off his lap, watching him in confusion as he stood before her.

"G-good night, Shego," he said with a shy smile. He turned and began cleaning up their wine glasses and the cheese tray. Her jaw fell open as she watched him. He... He hadn't even put his arms around her. He picked up the tray and started out of the room. She scowled.

"Drakken!"

He jumped in surprise and turned at her sudden anger, panic on his face.

"What did I say? I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he blurted out.

Whatever she had been about to yell at him died on her lips as she processed his words. Had he...been worrying the whole night about saying something to mess up their date? Was that why he had called it to an abrupt end, because there was nothing left to eat and he'd be forced to talk? But he always talked to her… He never stopped talking... He frequently annoyed her with his—

The second connection was made. Her mouth formed the shape of an 'O' as she took in his desperate and frantic expression. She turned and slowly sank down into the chair. She heard Drakken scurry out of the room behind her.

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

About thirty minutes later Shego had worked past her frustration with the poor genius she had become attracted to. And part of the problem was in fact his thinking. He overanalyzed and overthought every situation, to the point that he'd apparently convinced himself that she didn't want to talk to him. He was probably questioning her interest in him at all. It was a wonder he'd been bold enough to ask her on one date, let alone seven of them.

The fire was dying down, and Drakken hadn't returned. He was probably overanalyzing that evening too and trying to figure out his mistake. Shego sighed and left the den to find him. It was high time he figured out that she wouldn't keep saying yes to his date invitations if she didn't want to go out with him.

The sound of running water led her to the kitchen where she found Drakken hunched over the sink, muttering and angrily scrubbing dishes. He had made quick headway and only had their cheese tray and wine glasses left to clean. Shego watched as he hastily put away the remaining cheeses and crackers, and then poured out his nearly full glass of wine into the sink. She couldn't make out his words, but by the tone of his voice they were probably all self-deprecating.

She stepped up to the counter and leaned back against it.

"So what are you waiting for?" she asked.

Drakken jumped, sending soap suds up out of the sink and onto the counter, on his face, and a particularly large cluster of bubbles into his hair. Shego smirked at the sight, despite the look of fear in his eyes.

Drakken grabbed the dish towel and wiped the soap off his face in frustration before his expression turned anxious again. "Oh, Shego... I thought...you would have gone to bed."

"It's not even ten. Drakken, what are you waiting for?"

He turned back to washing the wine glasses. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She turned and leaned over the counter to stare at him. "We've been on seven dates now. What's next?"

Drakken looked genuinely confused when he glanced at her. "What do you mean?" he repeated.

"I mean... We already eat dinner, and watch movies. Dancing was new, and tonight was...different. But not much has changed with us 'dating.' What's the point?"

"Oh..." His face fell.

Shego waited for an answer, but he turned back to the dishes, his brow more twisted than ever. As he washed the wine glasses she frowned and stepped around the counter up to his side. When she moved right up next to him he turned from the dishes again. Shego reached around him and turned off the faucet.

"Stop avoiding this. What's the point?"

Drakken met her eyes, but rather than having formulated an answer he looked sad.

"I'm sorry, Shego. You're right. I won't... That is, we can just go back to the way things were. Forget we ever dated."

"Forget we...?" Shego snarled and grabbed his shirtfront so he would look at her. And look at her he did, as his eyes widened in fright and he raised one hand in front of his face while his other grabbed her wrist. "Drakken! I want to know what you think the point of this is, if we're not changing anything. Why did you even ask me out if you didn't want anything to change?"

Drakken looked confused but still seemed too frightened to respond. Shego let go of him and scowled, taking a step back to lean against the counter and cross her arms.

It would be typical...just typical of him to not really be interested in her, and be 'dating' for some reason that only made sense inside his head. And just when she had really started to be excited about where things between them might lead...

"I thought..."

Shego's eyes snapped up as he began speaking, and she gave him a calculating stare.

"I thought that if I...that is...you wouldn't want things to...um... Shego? Why...did you say yes to a date with me anyway? And all the others?"

Shego stared at him as her frown deepened. "Is that seriously a question? Because I wanted to date you, dingus! But not if it just means...doing the same things we always do with a new label slapped on."

Drakken hung his head. "That's why I was trying to come up with better ideas for—"

"I don't just mean what we do, I mean us! I thought dating meant a change with us."

Drakken looked nervous again. "You mean...ah..."

Shego felt an anxious fluttering in her chest, but she ignored it as she pushed off the counter and wordlessly put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He was startled at first, but within a few seconds he was kissing her back. And after a few more his hands rested tentatively on her waist.

The kiss was a release of far too much tension, and it was with great reluctance that Shego pulled away for air. Her eyes met Drakken's, and she was unsurprised to find him looking at her cautiously. But his hands hadn't left her waist.

"That's what I mean," she said conclusively.

Drakken took a slow, shaky breath and released it just as slowly. The cautious look hadn't left his eyes. "I thought...you... That is, I thought it would...take a lot more time before you could ever be interested in me...like that."

"What?" Shego's eyes narrowed. "I'm dating you because I'm attracted to you. You don't have to... Why would you think I'm not...? I sat in your lap, for crying out loud."

Drakken glanced away in what was a too-familiar, nervous fashion. Shego growled and leaned forward to kiss him again, this time holding nothing back. She heard his shocked intake of breath through his nostrils before he melted into her touch, his hands moving to gently encircle her waist as his lips responded to hers.

The kiss ended far too soon for her taste, but she understood that it was probably a bit much for a guy who was apparently content to wait a long time before engaging in any physical intimacies. She stepped back enough to put her hands on his shoulders. His hands stayed on her waist.

Drakken was looking at her in a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "So you...you're dating me because you...actually like me?"

Shego rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dr. D. That's the only reason I'd date you. So..." she reached up and brushed the remaining soap bubbles from his hair, "how about you stop with this weird pity-party and we go sit in front of the fire?"

Drakken immediately turned to the sink. "It will only take me a minute to get the cheese board ready again."

Shego sighed and stopped him by setting her fingers on his jaw, gently turning his head back toward her. "Leave that. Let's just...talk."

"Talk?" Drakken's face fell. Shego remembered what he had said when running out of the den earlier. But there wasn't anything she could really do about that.

"Yes. Talk. That's what dating couples do, so they can get to know each other better."

The fear and dismay in Drakken's eyes both saddened and annoyed her. But she couldn't blame him. How often over the years had she told him how much she hated listening to him talk? And who was to say he wouldn't annoy her some more? They wouldn't know until they actually...talked.

She blew the soap bubbles off of her fingers, the few that remained floating through the air for a second before they evaporated. She grabbed his hand and tugged on it.

"Think of it like taking over the world, Doc..." she said as she pulled him out of the room. "It's a risk, and there's always a chance of failure, but then you just...pick yourself up and try again."

"But what if—" He stopped short, and she paused to look at him, her eyes willing him to go on. He swallowed nervously. "What if...there is no second chance?" he said quietly, his eyes pools of worry.

She turned and pulled him toward the den again as she grew thoughtful. Part of her was thrilled that she apparently meant so much to him. And she also understood even more why he was so concerned. She did have a tendency to put hard stops on things she didn't agree with...

"I guess...relationships are a bigger risk than world domination," she said after a moment.

He was silent the rest of the way to the den, and once there she guided him back to his chair before she stoked the fire. He protested briefly, but she waved him off. She intended them to be there long past bedtime.

When she sat in his lap again he blushed and became stiff and nervous. She set one hand on his shoulder and studied him. If he really was that interested in her, then he couldn't possibly be unhappy with her choice to sit with him.

"What do you want to do right now?" she asked.

"What?" he asked, the anxiety rising in his eyes.

"Tell me," she said evenly. "What do you want to do right now?"

Drakken took a deep breath. "P-put my arms around you?"

She nodded at him. "Then what are you waiting for?"

There was a great sense of relief when he was finally holding her, one hand firmly on her shoulder and his other gently feeling the flesh at her waist. She leaned in closer to him and tried to give him the most unguarded look she could, though she knew she couldn't completely get rid of her smirk.

"All right Dr. Drakken," she said, smiling into his eyes, "talk to me."

[eeveedel]

chubby actor louis (pt 2)

What up SINNERS. So sorry I missed last week, I hope you still enjoy this lil baby that’s a coutinuation of my very questionable and self indulgent new series. I’m hoping to do at least two more installments a little later. 

please note this fic deal with weight gain kink/fetish. it is heavy on food and weight talk. if any of that content bothers or triggers you, this will not be the story for you. also contains some sexual content!

very unedited bc words are fake anyways. 

part 1 here

--

“Do I have to? This is the worst part.”

Louis was standing in the bathroom in just his briefs, Harry standing patiently next to him. And while he had taken his clothes off in front of Harry countless times, including when he started this whole thing, he somehow felt more naked now. He was acutely aware of his body, how his belly was doughy and swelled forward, how his legs had softened, and how his ass had grown, making his underwear tight. And he was just getting started.

“Come on, love, hop on,” Harry said gently, “I just wanna see where we’re starting, that’s all.”

One of the first things Harry had requested when he agreed to help Louis was that they were going to start weighing Louis every two days, rather than at the end of every week like Louis had been doing. He said it was important to keep track of this kind of thing so they could set goals for every day, and while Louis knew he had a point, he hated doing it in front of Harry. It was one thing to see the numbers rise on his own, but to do it in front of his boyfriend felt too personal and a little embarrassing. He wasn’t sure if Harry being into it made the situation better or worse.

Louis sighed and finally stepped onto the scale. He tried to relax his posture, letting his spine slouch a little and his arms swing loosely, like it would make a difference. The machine under his feet worked quickly, the display only blinking for a few seconds before it settled on one number.

“163,” Harry read out.

“Yes, I can read,” Louis said.

Harry laughed weakly, and out of the corner of his eye Louis saw him getting his phone out. He was opening his notes app, typing something in.

“So, by shooting time, you need to be at 178,” Harry said, “We can do that.”

Louis’s stomach fluttered a bit at “we,” the sign of Harry’s unquestioning presence on this weird project.

Harry had been around for plenty of Louis’s odd roles. He had helped Louis memorize a fake sci fi language for an outer space thriller, taken him to the air and space museum for hours while Louis took notes prepping to play an astronaut. and once had indulged Louis in a month of candlelit rooms and no Internet while he got ready for a drama set in Amish country. Harry had proved time and time again he was willing to help with whatever Louis’s very weird job required. But this felt different. Not least of all because Harry had never exactly been turned on by Louis’s role prep before.

“You can step off, baby,” Harry said gently.

Louis blinked, realizing he must have been there for away, and then stepped off the scale, watching it go back down to zero.

He stared at it for a long moment, and then felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder, giving him a squeeze.

“I can put lunch on,” Harry said, “Would that be okay? To eat something right now?”

Louis looked down at his stomach and put a cautious hand on it, squeezing the softness underneath his skin.

“I mean,” he said, “I guess we have to get there at some point.”

--

Louis really wished he had taken Harry up on his offer to cook for him earlier.

He was well aware Harry was an amazing cook – he made roasted vegetables and salmon three days a week taste incredible – but it was so different to see Harry cooking when he was not prohibited by a strict diet code.

New kitchen contraptions started appearing at their first door in express shipping packages – a breakfast maker, waffle makers, a panini press, an air fryer and then an actual deep fryer. Harry always told Louis to not worry about planning anything, he would take care of it, and Louis could just tell if he was craving anything. Louis was grateful for the relief – he had to memorize his lines by the end of the month and was already had enough to think about.

So he sat at the couch, or at his office upstairs, and Harry’s new creations kept arriving in front of him. Full English breakfasts with fried eggs and gravy-soaked sausages, mashed potatoes swimming in a small sea of butter, bacon and four-cheese grilled cheeses, mint chocolate chip milkshakes with chocolate and caramel syrup drizzled over a little hill of whipped cream. Harry presented each of them with a smile and a kiss to the top of Louis’s head or his cheek, and gave Louis the most brilliant grin when Louis brought down his empty dishes an hour later.

“Did you like it?” he asked, and would nod eagerly as Louis offered his thoughts.

Long lists of new recipes appeared on their fridge door, and Louis woke up a lot of days to see a slice of cheesecake wrapped in plastic in their fridge, or some waffle cut fries in tin foil, with a note on it telling him to eat it whenever he felt hungry.

And Louis did. It made him happy to eat Harry’s food, to see him smile, and also, it was just damn delicious.

By the end of his first week of Harry feeding him, he had gained another three pounds, something that made Harry grin and reward Louis with a plate of nachos, covered in melted cheddar and mozzarella, crumbled beef, and salsa.

“We still have awhile to go,” Louis said, squinting at Harry as he brought another cheese-soaked chip to his mouth, “Don’t be too proud of yourself.”

Harry sat across from him at the counter and he just smiled again, his eyes flicking between the plate in front of Louis and his mouth.

“I think we can manage,” Harry said, “I’ll provide the food, you just put in the effort.”

“I am putting in effort, you dick,” Louis huffed, picking up another chip. He took extra care to dare it through a pool of cheese at the edge of the plate, “You think I’m not?”

Harry shrugged, and Louis recognized the little glint behind his eyes. He was angling for Louis’s competitive side, and fuck if he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Louis picked up two chips, once again trying to drag them in the toppings so he had as much as possible balanced on them before he shoved them into his mouth.

“Don’t choke,” Harry said mildly.

“Don’t be an ass and just get me some soda,” Louis huffed.

Harry smiled and went to their fridge, getting out a two-liter of Coke. Regular-ass, non-diet Coke. He didn’t even pour it into a glass. Louis just unscrewed the top and sipped.

“I’m going to finish this,” Louis said firmly, “Just so you know.”

“Okay,” Harry said, and his mouth twitched at the corner.

Louis put his head down and focused on putting chips and cheese into his mouth. It was greasy as hell, and salty, and he felt his head going a little fuzzy from the combination of all of it alongside the liquid sugar he had already sucked down.

He kept eating until his fingers were shiny and his slick felt slick with grease, and he reached down to move the elastic of his sweatpants under the curve of his belly, giving it more room.

“You okay?” Harry said, and Louis thought he detected interest in his voice.

“I’m great,” Louis answered, picking up the soda again. He hiccupped weakly as he swallowed it down.

“These are good,” Louis said as he picked up more food. The chips at the bottom were nearly soaked through in grease, and he eagerly shoved them into his mouth. “You should make these more often.”

“I will,” Harry said. Louis could hear his voice was getting a little thin at the edges.

Louis picked up two more chips, eating them at the same time.

“If you eat all of that I’ll eat you out for half an hour,” Harry blurted out.

Louis arched his brow and put another chip in his mouth.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly, “My belly’s kind of full. I probably can’t lay down flat. You’re going to have to roll me onto my side.”

He rubbed his stomach as he said it, and he felt the grease on his fingers rub off on his shirt as he did.

Harry stared down and then back up, and he folded his arms and leaned forward.

“Louis,” Harry drawled, “Honey. You better eat those fucking nachos or I will lose my mind.”

Louis just smiled in return, and scooped up a chip entirely covered in cheese, taking his time biting into it.

He finished the nachos.

--

Louis understood that eventually it was going to happen. He knew the consequences of gaining what was now officially twenty-two pounds.

Still, after two weeks of Harry’s cooking, he was not exactly happy when he was trying to put on what used to be his affectionally named “fat jeans” and they couldn’t go over his ass.

He stood in their room, jumping feebly on his toes and tugging, but they wouldn’t go up. The denim hugged too tightly against his thighs, the skin of his legs bulging out just a bit, and the edge of the waistband kept cuffing his ass. It didn’t help his underwear were also a bit tight, and they kept wanting to move inward and get trapped between his cheeks.

“Harry!” he shouted, because what the hell else was he going to do.

Harry arrived in the doorway of their room a few minutes later, and he just stared, his mouth wide.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, yeah, oh my god,” Louis huffed, “I swear to god these just fit. But you had to go and put heavy cream in my coffee like a psychopath.”

“You liked it. A lot,” Harry said passively, “So. You want to go to the mall, get some new clothes?”

Louis looked up at him, his eyes wide and his hands still gripped on the useless flaps of his pants.

“You want me to go out in public right now?”

“We’ll go in the back way,” Harry shrugged, “And you can wear sunglasses. And a hat.”

“Oh, brilliant disguise ideas from my fashion designer boyfriend here.”

He ducked his head again and pulled on his jeans again, but it wasn’t doing anything. If anything the edge of the denim was chafing his ass.  

“Can’t you just fix these for me? Isn’t letting things out part of your job?” Louis asked, gesturing to his jeans.

“I could,” Harry allowed, “But if you’re going to lose the weight later you’ll want your old clothes.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Louis said. He yanked his pants off, kicking them hard to get the blasted things off his ankles. Then he huffed angrily, dragging a hand through his hair. “Shit, I just – I really don’t want to go out in public right now, that’s all.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Harry said, “No one is going to recognize you.”

“I’m insulted,” Louis said, “Do you know how famous I am? Do you know how many Teen’s Choice awards are in our spare room?”

“Yes, I know,” Harry chuckled, “But babe…you don’t exactly look like yourself right now.”

Louis frowned, and lifted his head. He shuffled forward to the big mirror on the inside of his closet door and looked up.

And fuck, Harry was right. He didn’t really look like himself. He hadn’t shaved in a while, for one, and his hair was a little longer. But his face was puffy, his cheekbones covered with round cheeks that pushed up, making his eyes look smaller. His thighs were wide and soft, only a little bit of his old muscles visible. When he turned he could see his ass had grown and widened, and while it used to be round and firm from his tireless squat routine, it was just…soft now. And he had a proper belly, not the tiny bit of bloating he used to get sometimes, but a proper one that puffed out and felt heavy on his core.  

The man everyone was expecting when Louis went out in public wasn’t here now.

“You’re right,” he sighed, and put his hands on his hips. “Let’s go shopping.”

--

They went to a mall a little outside of the city limits, which was pretty empty for the time being.

Louis hadn’t been clothes shopping in a while, but luckily Harry was always out and about, picking up new things to cut up and sew back together, so he immediately picked some stores to go to.

They went to a men’s’ clothing shop, and Harry looked through the racks with great focus, picking up some jeans and shirts and slinging them over his arm.

“I’ll get you a few sizes,” Harry said, “Remember, you don’t want them too tight. You need a little room to grow.”

The expression coming from Harry’s mouth made Louis’s face burn, and he just followed his boyfriend wordlessly as he plucked up different garments.

They spent a little too long for Louis’s liking in the dressing room, but it went okay, all things considered. He got a few new pairs of jeans, several new t-shirts, a new flannel shirt and a new sweater. Harry encouraged through all of it, giving him kisses and telling him how well the clothes showed off his curves, but after awhile, Louis grew tired of wriggling in and out of new pants and asked if they could stop. Harry just nodded. whipped out his credit card, and told Louis he would pay for both the clothes and their lunch.

Of course, it went without saying that Harry was also going to pick the location, which was how they ended up in an All-American buffet.

Louis was sitting in a darker, more secluded corner of the dining area, in a sticky fake leather booth. The walls around him were painted with scenes of the wild west, cowboys and horses. He had a huge tumbler of orange soda in front of him, which he kept picking up and sipping at as he waited for Harry to return from picking out his meal. He was admittedly a little hungry, so he was kind of looking forward for whatever Harry was getting him.

What he did expect was Harry nearly skipping back to the table, two plates in his hands and two perfectly balanced on his forearms, all of them loaded down with food.

He set them all down in front of Louis with a smile, and Louis just stared at him, his mouth gaping.

“How – “ Louis sputtered, “How did you even carry all of that?”

“I was a waiter before you met me. You know this,” Harry said, “Now dig in, I’m going to get myself.”

He turned, then, heading back to the lines of food, and Louis took in what Harry had picked for him.

On one plate there was a large cheeseburger, loaded with with several slices of bacon, and a generous serving of crinkle-cut fries. On the next there were ribs soaking in barbeque sauce and a side of mac and cheese, the cheese nearly orange and the pasta covered in golden breadcrumbs. Then there was a big plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and two sausages, and then the last was loaded with three big cinnamon rolls dripping with white icing.

Louis was still staring at it all when Harry came back to the table, carrying a bowl of salad and another bowl full of salad for himself.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, then his face fell, “Shit, I’m sorry is that too much for you? I’m sorry. I just got excited.”

“No, it’s okay,” Louis said quietly, “Um. Is it okay if I don’t finish all of it? It’s just so much.”

“That’s fine,” Harry said quickly, “I just wanted to get you plenty. Take your time.”

“Okay,” Louis nodded, then smiled, “This really does look so good, thank you.”

Harry gave him another warm look, and that was enough for Louis to get started. He picked up some ribs, holding them delicately, and took some bites. The meat was tender and came apart easily, and the sauce was delicious, sweet and thick. He nodded happily and took more bites, feeling some sauce collect on his lips.

“You’re so cute when you eat,” Harry said across the table, and Louis blushed.

He polished off his ribs, the weight of the food hot and pleasant in his belly. He wiped off his mouth and fingers as best he could, and then picked up a fork and went for the mac and cheese. It was rich, creamy and salty and tasting like sharp cheddar. He ate it embarrassingly fast, the pasta quickly disappearing into his mouth.

“That’s so good,” he said, and picked up his soda to shallow it down. He wasn’t hungry anymore, but he certainly wasn’t full. So he went for the eggs. It was a nice compliment to the mac and cheese, more cheese, more salt, a light, fluffy texture. He ate it in little bites, licking his lips at how salty it was.

“I’m gonna be so bloated after this,” Louis said as he picked up his soda and took a long drink. Harry didn’t say anything, but Louis did notice he had stopped picking up the fork for his salad, instead watching Louis.

The eggs were so good, soft on his tongue, and he felt himself going fuzzy from the salt and the weight in his stomach. Half the plate was still in front of him, and he was definitely getting full now, and he told Harry he didn’t have to finish all of it. He could throw up a white flag right now.

But the rest of the food looked so good, and Harry watching him intently. And…what was going to happen to him, really? He was going to get bigger? He needed to get bigger. It was fine.

So, with several more forkfuls lifted to his lips, he finished his eggs.

He set down the fork with a distinct little click, and Harry leaned forward.

“Hey, you did really good, thank you – “

But Louis was picking up his cheeseburger He took a big bite, keeping his eyes locked on Harry, who blinked at him.

“You – “ Harry swallowed, “I – “

Louis smirked as he as swallowed. His mouth tasted like salt and grease, and he went in for another bite. He moaned a little, and Harry didn’t move, didn’t even close his mouth.

He shouldn’t be doing this. His stomach was tight, and he could feel the elastic of his sweatpants pushing out, cutting in. Fuck, he was going to have to buy new sweatpants soon. His body wasn’t used to this, it was used to constant exercise and juice cleanses.

The mere thought of it made Louis eat another bite with more zeal, really tearing it and chewing hard. He didn’t realize how tired of that he was until now.

The burger was delicious, and he felt a wet bit of grease run down his chin. Jesus fuck, it was literally leaking with fat, and he was eating it happily.

He ate fast, so fast he couldn’t pay too much attention to his protesting stomach. He polished the burger off and didn’t even wipe his mouth as he picked at the fries, grabbing multiple at once.

“You know how in every fucking interview I do for movies, they ask me about my preparation?” Louis said to Harry, “Imagine this one. ‘Louis, you had to gain thirty pounds for this role. And we hear you didn’t even have that much time to do it. How did that happen?’ And I’ll get to say, ‘well, my boyfriend stuffed me every day for weeks at a time and got a boner doing it, so it was easy.’”

He shoved the fries in his mouth and was already picking up another handful and dunking it in ketchup as he chewed. He barely swallowed before he was eating more.

His stomach was aching now, and he groaned, pushing down the painful elastic on his pants, but it still felt tight around his hips.

“We – oof, we should go back for some new sweatpants, babe. Gonna fuckin’ bust these soon.”

He picked up more fries, and he was acutely aware of how Harry was staring him down, his food abandoned, his eyes dark.

Louis’s body was hot from head to toe, and he was sweating a little, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the effort his meal was taking out of him or from how Harry was looking at him.

But he felt something else shift as he polished off his fries and shoved the plate away, seeking out more of his soda.

He thought he was imagining it, but as he dragged the plate of cinnamon rolls closer to himself, the plate scraping loudly on the table, he knew he was right.

He was hard.

He was in a mall buffet and he was getting a hard on from stuffing his face.

He didn’t know how to handle that. So he picked up a cinnamon roll instead.

It was pure carbs, heavy, the icing sticky and all sugar, and it made his brain buzz and his eyes flutter closed. He shoved the pastry into his mouth hard, forcing himself to chew. His belly gave an unhappy little gurgle, but his cock was happy, and his boyfriend looked ready to pounce, so he kept chewing.

He finished one of the rolls with a pant, setting both hands on his stomach. He smeared grease and icing on the fabric of his hoodie, and he sighed. He rubbed his hands over his belly, round and hard, the fabric of his sweatshirt pulled tight over it. He pulled it up, over the hill of his stomach. His shirt had already ridden up, and there he was, his stomach hanging out in public, as he grabbed for another roll.

Harry was nearly foaming at the mouth, and Louis ate the cinnamon roll in small but eager bites. He felt icing smear on his mouth and he didn’t bother to fix it. He was sweating and blushing and his dick was hard in public and none of it mattered.

The roll was gone soon, and he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the icing. He slumped in the booth and then picked up the last roll, his white fucking whale. He tipped back his head and opened his mouth and shoved nearly half of it in. He focused hard on the taste of it. Fluffy bread, cinnamon, honey, pure sugar. His mouth was lazy as it chewed, as if even his tongue was sick of his ordeal, but he swallowed it down none the less. He had to keep shifting his hips, trying to keep his belly happy, but it was no use. It was pissed at him. But Louis had half a cinnamon roll left.

He shoved it in his mouth in one bite, his cheeks bulging as he chewed and chewed, squeezing his eyes tightly as his throat worked, trying to swallow it down.

Soon, it was done, and for his last stupid act, Louis reached for his soda, tipped the glass, and chugged until it was empty.

When it was done he slammed it on the table and panted, clutching his stomach and staring at Harry, who was already standing.

“Get me home right now and fuck me,” Louis said, his voice weak.

Harry nodded and reached down, guiding Louis up to his feet. He pulled his sweatshirt down and then stared at the obvious bulge in Louis’s pants, and then looked up with even wider eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, looks like you’re not the only one who’s into this,” Louis snapped, then wheezed again, setting a hand on his stomach, “Fuck, help me waddle the hell out of here, you bastard.”

Harry surged forward, kissing Louis hard, and then pulled back, wrapping a protective arm around him and helped Louis walk, slowly but surely, to the exit.

Somehow, as they got to the door, Louis found the energy to lean in and kiss under Harry’s ear, then whisper to him.

“Eight more pounds, baby.”

[fangirlxwritesx67]

Taken By The Wind: A Sam Winchester x Rowena McLeod Love Story Chapter 8: Heather

Tags: 18+, sex, explicit sex, smut, porn. oral sex, penetrative sex, no condom, consent, size kink. Excessive descriptions of Rowena being gorgeous.

Author’s Note Chapter 1: You Naughty Boy After Chapter 1: Wildfire Chapter 2: Why Thank You Chapter 3: Yes Please After Chapter 3: Hours Chapter 4: Green Velvet Chapter 5: Locked On You Chapter 6: For You, Always After Chapter 6: Whipped Chapter 7: Purple Roses ...

Sam knocked on Rowena’s apartment door, his heart in his throat. He hadn’t felt this way before a date in almost 20 years. Hell, he hadn’t been on a date, a proper date, in that long. Then the door swung open and there she was. 

Rowena.

His Queen.

She was wearing a black dress, long and velvety. It was simple and elegant, and perfectly skimmed the curves of her slim body.  He grinned. She had remembered how he loved her in velvet. The sleeves covered her arms and shoulders but the neckline plunged low.

“Hello,” she murmured, her voice sultry. She slid her hand up the doorframe, leaning towards him. It was a familiar gesture but still irresistible. She wore a thin strand of something sparkly that trailed all the way down her breasts, and he followed it with his eyes. 

“See something you like?” she asked, teasing. Her high round breasts were perfectly framed by the neckline of her dress and he couldn’t look away.

Sam swallowed hard. 

“See something you want?” she purred. 

She always looked beautiful, of course, but tonight was something else. Tonight, she looked straight magical. 

“You, Rowena. I only ever want you. But we have dinner reservations.”

She tipped her face up, tossing her long red curls. Her eyes were fixed on his face, warm and bright. He slipped one hand around her waist, pulling her closer. Her delicate hands skimmed the arms of his jacket and tightened around his shoulders.  The brush of her fingers on his arm, even through the cloth, sent a bolt of white hot lightning straight to his core. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her hungrily. He heard her whimper, deep in her throat, before he pulled away. 

Her hand slid down to fit in the crook of his elbow, and he placed warm fingers over hers. He knew Dean would tease him about being so formal, but with Rowena, it felt right. This was how a Queen deserved to be treated. 

In the elevator, the mirror reflected the two of them side by side, and Sam found his eyes drawn to her image. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. She looked small and delicate, but he knew better. That perfect tiny body held a tremendous force of will and a deep well of desire. Her gaze met his in the mirror, her green eyes shining with excitement, a glimpse of her fiery soul.

When they reached the Impala, Sam opened the door for Rowena and helped her in before taking his place behind the wheel. She slid across the broad leather seat to be closer to him. He laid his hand palm up on her lap and she laced her fingers in with his. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Sam had so many things racing through his mind, he didn’t know what to say first. Rowena seemed to pick up on his mood, and teased him gently. 

“Still won’t tell me where you’re taking me, Samuel? This must be someplace special,” she said, keeping her voice light. “It’s not like you to be this nervous."

Sam smiled. She knew him so well. He answered, only half joking. “I realized that I haven’t done much for you in terms of dating. I never take you out, give you a chance to dress up." 

“I thought you liked me undressed.” Even without looking, he knew the coquettish face she was making. He felt himself blush a little, just thinking about it. This woman of his and her bewitching ways! He chuckled before he answered.

“I do, don’t get me wrong, but maybe later. I think you’ll enjoy this, first.”

Rowena’s fingers tightened around his and he squeezed back in anticipation, in promise. 

When they arrived at the restaurant, Rowena read the sign that said “Breakfast & Lunch,” then looked at him quizzically. 

“Wait,” he answered her wordless question. “You’ll see.” He had seen pictures of the dinners, and he could only hope that this would be a surprise worthy of her hopes. 

They stepped into the restaurant, Rowena’s hand still on his arm, and she stopped short. Every table in the place was draped with white cloth and lit with candles. White strands of Christmas lights hung from the walls. The ordinary bistro had been transformed into something magical. Her eyes flicked across the room, and her mouth dropped open in a soft, wondering sigh.

While Rowena drank in the sight of the restaurant, Sam only had eyes for her. All the lights in the room couldn’t compare to the way her face shone with delight. Just looking at her made his throat tighten with pride and longing. 

The host led them to a booth against the wall. The corner was dim, and in the candlelight, Rowena was radiant. Her red hair seemed to spark, her creamy skin seemed to glow with incandescent beauty. She flashed her green eyes at him, eager and bright, before her gaze fell to the table. 

In the center of the table, holding court amongst the glasses and candlesticks, was a simple crystal vase of heather, purple and white.

It had taken time and effort to find the flowers. There was a surprising dearth of florists in Kansas that kept heather in stock. He ended up getting it shipped in, and paying an outrageous tip to make sure it was on the table. 

Rowena lifted one hand and skimmed the blossoms with her fine fingers. The tender smile she gave Sam made it worth every dollar he had spent. 

“Heather,” she murmured, “For me?” 

Heather meant thriving in adversity. A little flower that grew wild in Scotland, it seemed perfect for him and Rowena. Purple heather represented admiration and beauty, while the white stood for protection and wishes come true. 

Sam’s reached towards her. His hand was waiting when Rowena’s drifted down from the heather. She let her fingers rest comfortably against his palm. 

‘You’re nothing if not my own wild flower,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips. It was ridiculous, he knew it, part of him was still hearing Dean’s voice mocking him gently. But here in the moment, with Rowena, nothing seemed too much.

Everything he had to give seemed too little for her. 

A waiter came by with water and a bottle of champagne. Sam had already ordered a vintage that he knew Rowena loved.

After they gently clinked glasses, Rowena sat back with a smug expression on her face. 

“Samuel,” she said, “This is a treat. What are we celebrating?” 

“Us, Ro, we’re celebrating us.”

She paused with the glass halfway to her lips. “Us?” 

Sam looked down at the tablecloth and drew in a deep breath before he lifted his eyes to meet hers. 

“Yeah, you and me. I think what we have is worth celebrating. Don’t you?” 

She smiled, the fondest smile, before she held out her glass again. “Of course,” she said, “To us.”

Rowena sipped her champagne delicately. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sam drank in the sight of the woman he loved, so beautiful, so bright. For a long moment they sat, speechless, just enjoying one another’s presence.

Finally, she picked up the printed menu in front of her, and her green eyes went wide. 

“Samuel!” She tried to giggle but the words caught in her throat. “Is this… is this a Scottish meal?”

“Yes,” Sam answered. He swallowed hard. “I didn’t plan it for you, but the moment I found it, it seemed perfect.”

She rewarded him with one of those slow smiles that he never could resist. Her dark lashes fluttered against her pale freckled cheeks. When she looked up, she beckoned Sam with just one finger. He half stood, leaning across the table, to meet her upturned mouth with his. 

They didn’t pull apart until the waiter reappeared, carrying an entire tray of delicious bites: fresh sourdough bread, tangy with a dark crust, crumbles of sheep cheese, and herbed heirloom tomatoes. 

The next course was soup, different for each of them. Rowena’s was a light broth with fresh wild garlic and greens. Sam’s was tomato with fennel and thyme.  They quickly traded spoons across the table. Everything was delicious and perfect and they wanted nothing more than to share with one another. 

Every bit of the chef’s tasting menu was exquisite. When their entrees arrived, Rowena had roast duck with a side of wild rice and fresh new peas. Sam had roast beef, cooked perfectly rare, with bites of new red potatoes and roasted root vegetables. 

They also shared a bottle of Sangiovese. The savory round red wine paired perfectly with both of their meals. 

They settled back and enjoyed the food, talking and laughing. This was in fact their first date, but Sam didn’t know why he had been nervous. He was with Rowena, after all. They had built a solid relationship from working and living together. Then they had added sex that was both familiar and fiery. Dating hardly seemed to figure into it. 

Sam relaxed as he saw Rowena truly enjoying the dinner. She was perfectly at home in this elegant, intimate setting. He wondered, not for the first time, how a hunter like him had ended up with such a glamourous, powerful woman. But he knew. It was because she had chosen him, wanted him, and pursued him. He considered himself fortunate, every day, that she had.

Before dessert arrived, Sam held out one hand. Rowena met his fingers with hers on the white tablecloth. 

“Come here, please,” he asked. She stood up gracefully and walked around the table to slide into the booth next to him. He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. There was something about the way she fit so perfectly against him, as if they were meant to be together. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured.

“Hello,” she answered before she lifted her soft mouth and he kissed her. Her hand rose to the back of his neck, tangling in his dark hair. He kissed her deeper, his grasp spanning the curve of her waist and hip. 

They were interrupted by their waiter bringing dessert, and pulled reluctantly out of one another's arms for the last course of their meal. 

There was only one dessert. A molded bowl of dark chocolate held whipped cheesecake mousse, surrounded by brandied cherries and topped with a delicate net of caramel sugar. 

Sam took the spoon and scooped up some mousse, broke a piece off the chocolate shell, and gathered up a cherry as well as some caramel before he held it up to Rowena’s lips. She leaned forward and took it slowly. 

Her glossy lips closed around the spoon in a way that filled his mind with wayward thoughts. She had to know that when she did that, he couldn’t think straight. How did she manage to get him, every single time?!

“Rowena,” Sam couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I love you. And I don’t know what to call what we’re doing, but I want you to be mine.”

Rowena shook her head. Sam watched her face close up, centuries of instinct taking over. He thought she trusted him completely, but still, he recognized the proud look on her face, the way she wrapped herself in power when she felt too vulnerable.

“You don’t-” she started, trying for flirty, but her voice caught before she could continue. “You don’t mean it, Sam Winchester.”

“Oh, but I do.” He, better than anyone, understood what she had been through. He knew why she was defensive, how much she doubted both herself and him. 

Sam’s hand fell softly to her face and she leaned into the warmth of his touch. This was the trust they had built over time, first working side by side, then in their personal relationship. She invited him to take part in her magic; he relied on her help for his research. She was comfortable stripped naked in front of him, the two of them seeking pleasure in one another. She enjoyed him handcuffing her, playing with power, letting him unlock her secret stash of filthy curses. He reveled in pushing her until she came unwound, until she lost herself under his touch. 

He already knew she felt safe with him, implicitly; the way she let all her guard down with him. But he was asking her for more. He was asking her to trust him wholly. 

She sighed softly and lifted her green cat eyes to his. 

“You’re more than a good time,” he continued earnestly.  “You’re my friend, my equal, my partner.”

Tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. She shook her head, wordlessly.

His thumb caressed her cheek, trailing down to trace the curve of her mouth. Her lips softened under his touch. 

“My love. Rowena, be with me.” 

Her fingers reached up to wind in his. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she whispered, her voice low and broken.

“I do, though, Rowena.” There was no doubting the assurance in his voice. “I mean it with all my heart. I have never loved another woman like I love you.”

“Even though I’m a witch?”

“Especially because you’re a witch.” Magic, for a hunter, was no easy matter. Rowena wasn’t easy, either, but she was worth it.

Sam watched her chest rise in a deep breath. He saw in her eyes the moment she finally gave in, let herself go, and trusted him. Finally, she nodded slowly.

She reached up to caress his cheek. “My dear Samuel, I love you too.” 

He lowered his lips to hers and she met him willingly. Her mouth tasted sweet, like fruit and dark chocolate and wine. 

The dessert, as good as it was, sat forgotten on the table as they sealed their love with kiss after kiss after kiss. 

“Rowena,” Sam whispered. “My Queen. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

From the very start, Rowena had promised that they would make magic together. This was the most beautiful magic of all: love.

~ THE END ~

Not sure where to start thanking everyone who has seen this story from beginning to end, including @marril96​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @boondoctorwho​ @awesomesusiebstuff​ and more. Thanks for everything SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho​ @dawnie1988​ @deanwanddamons​ @divadinag​ @flamencodiva​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @idreamofplaid​ @maddiepants​ @magssteenkamp​ @onethirstyunicorn​   @the-chocolate-moose​  @there-must-be-a-lock​ @tloveswriting​​ Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ Rowena My Queen: @lilsylvia @marril96

[dontshootmespence]

Don’t Be a Stranger

Summary: Your on-again, off-again fuck buddy Dean rolls back into town, but something about him is different this time. Will you be able to handle the change?

Pairing: MOC!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,929

Warnings: Rough sex, hitachi fun, butt plug, slight spanking, squirting. Good jams with desperate Dean.

A/N: For those of you 18 and over! This fulfills my “sex toys” square for @spnkinkbingo and my plugs prompt for @covered-byroses kink challenge.

Coming home smelling of cheap beer, whiskey and cigarette smoke wasn’t exactly your idea of the best job ever, but with your ample assets and ability to flirt with whoever necessary no matter how disgusting or good-looking, it paid the bills.

Pushing past the impossibly heavy door to your apartment, you peeled off your leather jacket and threw it over the back end of the couch, worn by years of passing out on it instead of your own bed. Perk of living in the middle of buttfuck nowhere was that even your pittance of a paycheck provided you with a halfway decent apartment. Clean it wasn’t, but that was your own fault, normally too tired to bother cleaning after making whatever comfort food you wanted for dinner. It was - as Goldilocks would say - just right. 

After shoveling nearly half a box of Kraft mac and cheese into your face, you went to brush your teeth and get changed. This was the one night of the week were you got off early and didn’t have work the next day. So tonight, you’d treat yourself. Light some vanilla candles, get nice and relaxed with a bubble bath, put on some silky lingerie and go to town on yourself. It was the least you deserved after six straight days of dealing with the scummiest men imaginable trying to worm their way into your pants.

You sighed happily and sauntered through the apartment, turning on the bathwater and grabbing a couple candles before tossing your vibrator on the bed. Just as you were about to slip into the steaming water, you heard a knock at the door. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Grumpily, you pulled on a silky bathrobe and went to answer the door. Whoever it was better have had a good excuse for interrupting your one night off. You peered through the peephole and did a double take. “Dean?”

“Yea, Y/N, it’s me.”

You looked through the glass a third time. He was fidgety; he looked irritated. Normally when he showed up at your door it was because he was sliding through town yet again and the two of you had undeniable chemistry. You were fuck buddies, but you could never sleep with someone you didn’t at least care for to a degree - and Dean looked like hell.

Opening up the door, you invited him and asked if he wanted a drink. When he nodded, you fixed what you knew he drank, which you just so happened to have at home due to your similar taste in liquor. You poured a double shot into a glass, no ice of course, and brought it over to him, passing it to him without a word and watching as he tipped the entire thing back into his mouth. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Typical. He rarely opened up.

He scratched at his arm and you glanced down, seeing a mark that hadn’t been there before. Almost looked like a brand. “Something to do with that?”

“Something to do with that.”

After meeting him all those years ago - apparently he, Sam and Cas had just stopped the apocalypse in its tracks - he told you what he did for a living. You’d come into contact with a vamp once, but with Dean’s basic training, you’d taken it down. Other than that, and the fact that you knew of this whole angel and demon business, you didn’t have much knowledge of whatever insane bullshit Dean got himself into. 

“Let’s just say this mark controls me in a way.”

You moved back in your chair, silently chiding yourself for not checking him for signs of demon or vamp or whatever. “Not like that. I’m clean,” he said, pulling out a bottle of holy water and flicking it onto himself. “In a different way. And I need a distraction. The kind of distraction this Mark demands...I’m trying not to give into it. I don’t know any other way. Sam and Cas want to help, but they can’t-I-”

“Dean, it’s okay. You know I’m always down for a distraction.”

He’d already opened up more than you thought. And you didn’t necessarily need his life story if he wasn’t willing to give it. You were great in bed together and right now that was really all he needed. 

Dean smirked slightly, relief flooding his features as he pulled you into his lap and began nipping at your collarbone. “What do you need, Dean?”

“Rough,” he mumbled. “I need to fuck you senseless.”

“I’m down,” you laughed in reply, grinding against the hard denim covering his knee. “How about some toys? You can choose.”

In times like these, Dean needed control and you knew it. Plus, he was never one to leave you hanging, so you knew you’d be taken care of, no matter how soft or rough he was with you. 

Gently tossing you to the side, he nipped at the side of your neck before running into your room. He knew exactly where everything was. “This little thing?” He asked in amazement, probably referring to your vibrator. “This is nothing. I want the big guns.”

He did a little rummaging around and found what he was looking for. The hitachi. You only brought that out when you need a quick, easy, powerful orgasm. “Robe off,” he commanded as he walked out with the wand in hand. 

You did as he demanded and let it drop to the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your stainless steel butt plug, with a green jewel at the end of course, shining in his side pocket. Removing it from his pants pocket, he placed the tip at your mouth. “You’re going to get this nice and wet and then I’m going to fill up your tight little ass.” Moaning around the plug, you began teasing your nipples as he continued detailing every depraved thing he wanted to do to you - what he needed to do to you. “Then I’m going to take my belt and fasten this wand straight on your clit and fuck you from behind until you come so many times that you can’t move from the floor.”

You’d gotten rough before, but normally not like this - not that you were objecting. It just proved that something was different about him even though you didn’t fully understand.

Dean pulled you close and dipped his head to you nipple, pulling one roughly into his mouth and biting down so hard you gasped out loud. “Am I going to have to keep you quiet?”

“You keep doing things like that, hell yea.”

He grasped you bottom lip between his teeth and growled at the slickness between your legs. He’d barely touched you and yet here you were. “Down on the floor. Face down, ass up.”

Once more, he slipped the plug into your mouth before pushing it into your ass. “That slid in pretty easily. You play with your own ass or is that just for partners?”

“Little bit of both.”

“God, you’re amazing.” By the time Dean was happy with the plug’s position, you could feel your pussy dripping. He gave your ass a playful smack before placing the hitachi against your clit and ensuring it stayed in place by fastening his belt around your waist. 

Even though he started it on the lowest setting, you knew you were in for an experience, even by Dean standards. “Who’s my perfect little slut?”

“I am,” you breathed, a dreamy smile setting upon your face as he placed himself at your entrance. The subtle rumble of the wand on your clit intensified as he slid into your heat, a guttural moan escaping from Dean’s lips. 

He pulled out, almost painstakingly slow, leading you into a false sense of security that shattered like glass as he thrust back into you with one, hard, smooth movement. “God, your pussy is so tight.” You wanted to respond, to say something that might indicate the depth of your need, but as he thrusted back into you, pointed, sharp movements driving your clit down onto the wand over and over again, nothing came out. Nothing but strangled cries and bone deep whimpers.

As he picked up the pace, the intensity becoming more than you ever imagined or experienced, he slipped his hand underneath you to flick the switch on hitachi and up the speed. “Oh fuck! Oh my God, Dean!” 

At your outburst, Dean yanked on the belt, pulling you upward and flush against him. His hand found its way to your mouth and covered it. “You remember last time I was here? You made too much noise and got the landlord called on you? Don’t want to do that again, do you?”

You shook your head and bit your lip, stifling the moan that rumbled up from within as you got lost in the pace of his thrusts and the intensity of the wand and the way your ass gripped tightly onto the metal plug, puckering with each movement.

When he pushed you back down toward the ground, he smacked your ass, the sting of it sending you into a tailspin of begging. “Please, Dean! Please, make me cum. Please, please, please-”

Again he pinned you to the ground, upping the speed of the wand one final time  as he wiggled the plug inside you. “Gonna come in this tight little pussy.”

With one final thrust you came apart, a warm liquid flowing onto the ground below you while your clit throbbed and your pussy tightened around Dean’s cock. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled into the floor.

You were a bowl of jelly, completely pliable and up for anything Dean had in store. Whether or not you could take much more, you weren’t sure. But instead of taking you to the edge of the universe and back, he flipped you over and turned the wand off, removing the belt from around your waist and removing the plug, letting it fall from his hand with a thud. “What a little slut, do you always squirt when you’re not in control?”

“Only by myself, never had someone make me,” you managed to say, your body still shaking. “How about we get in the shower you interrupted me taking and then I can ride you like there’s no tomorrow?”

Even though he’d just fucked you into next week, Dean’s irritation was evident, the mark on his arm almost burning with an unslakable lust for something you couldn’t place. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, lifting you up like a doll and carrying you into the bathroom. “But I gotta go before I do something I regret.”

“What the hell could that be?” 

He turned the bath water on and filled the tub, shaking the last thoughts of confiding in someone away. “You don’t want to know. That’s what this is, right? All fucking, no talking. You don’t need to know what a shitshow my life is. I won’t do that to you.” The last words he spoke came out almost like a whisper, voice cracking from a burden he was barely holding steady. 

After placing you in the tub, he bent down and kissed you, lingering for just a moment before turning away. “I’ll see you.”

“Of course, Dean,” you replied, sinking into the bath water, almost melting into it. You wanted him to stay, to unburden himself of the fuckery, but you knew it was a lost cause, at least right now. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” 

“With you, no chance. Can’t stay away forever.”

[drjackandmissjo]

Roses are Red, Tattoos are Forever

Chapter 3 --- previous chapter

Feysand masterlist

The Sherlock Conundrum

Florist and tattoo artist Au, Modern Day

“Can you please stop with this madness? Hugh Laurie is clearly the best Sherlock ever!”

They were both sitting on the couch of his living room. Really close to each other. She had her left knee under her body and was fully facing him. He had been throwing glances at her way the whole time she’s been there, and now was admiring her everything as they bantered lovingly.

After a particularly rough client, that had taken her nearly seven hours to finish, she came into his shop claiming: “We’re both closing earlier, I need to rest and so do you.”

At his attempt to tell her off, cause “I don’t need to rest I am in pristine fit every second of every minute”, she simply replied with an elongated ‘Please’ and a pair of puppy dog eyes that would’ve put a Labrador to shame.

Useless to say, they ended up on his couch half an hour later, a marathon of the fourth season of House M.D. on the television and chips and popcorn all around.

Feyre is harder than she looks, tougher. She likes to drink whiskey and burning liquor and beer.

Rhys, on the other hand, is a refined rosé man. He drinks fruity drinks and cocktails and vodka. He tried the same stuff that she drinks, once, when they went out with the rest of the inner circle after Az had received a promotion. It didn’t end well.

Feyre and Cassian will forever tease him about it.

Since their taste in alcohol was on such a wide spectrum, they decided to settle for some sparkly Coca-Cola for that fine night.

About halfway through episode six, the debate had begun. The show was soon forgotten and left as a white noise machine that lulled them into their silliness.

“Feyre Darling. You are being delusional. Dr House’s got nothing on RDJ’s Sherlock. Just cause the character was inspired by Conan Doyle’s work it doesn’t mean it can be considered a Sherlock.”

She laughed. A delicious sound that was filling his days more and more each morning. “Do you know that Conan Doyle based Shelly on a doctor, right? Also, yeah Jude Law’s better than Wilson, that is true.”

“Can we just agree that Cumberbatch and Freeman are equally amazing.”

“Yeah, duh! But, controversial opinion: I don’t actually ship Jonhlock romantically.”

“More like platonic soul-mates? Makes complete sense. They are not interested in each other at all. You are right, Fey-ruh Acheron.”

‘HOW DARE SHE...’, he thought severely displeased.

“Oh please don’t be pissed at me. I like them together and everything, but in my mind, Sherlock is pretty much ace-aro. I mean, Cumberbatch was also Smaug. Which in the books is described as a dragon while the movies decided to portray him like a vixen...” He solemnly nodded.

That is, indeed, a severe problem in mainstream media.

“That is, indeed, a severe problem in today mainstream media. We live in a world where people don’t know the difference between one another! Daenerys Mother of Dragons? More like Dany The Soccer Mom of three cool lizards. That would be more appropriate!”

“Don’t talk to me about Dany, I’m still pissed about Jonerys. I mean, fan-service much? Okay, I can deal with that. But don’t freaking kill Viserion and try to make us all believe that HIS MOTHER WOULD FUCK HER NEPHEW THIRTY MINUTES LATER!”

She laughed again.

‘Gods above and below,’ he thought, ‘how much can a person love another?’

“Agree 100% on Viserion, though Jon after Ygrit should’ve just zipped up his pants and close business. You experience that kind of love once in your screentime. And when you do, Martin kills the counterpart off immediately after the big scene. You know that sadist is gonna kill you off, so just spare him the dirty deeds to write.”

“The dirty deeds are the reasons he is taking so much to finish that freaking book. Also, salty much?"

"You dare calling me salty? It’s been years and you still weep over Robb’s body.”

“Excuse you, it is a very fine body. Have you seen Richard Madden lately? With that kilt at Kit and Rose’s wedding? Fine AF.”

She was now scooting over, moving closer to his face to find a reaction.

“Fine, you’re right. But Darling, you know damn well I am attracted to that man, you can’t just casually throw his name around! That would be like me, saying that Misha has aged like a fine whisky.”

“And where would a lie hide in that sentence?”

“ANYWAY. We were talking of something terrifically important.”

He decided to add a Meaningful Pause to give himself some dramatic effect...

“How can you say you don’t ship Jonhlock romantically?”

‘Honesly I love that woman. She is my other half, I would die for her and with her. My life without her has no meaning.

But if her answer doesn’t please me then so help me God I will suffer through a meaningless life with the strength of my ships.’ His mind said.

“I told you before the 'The Hobbit/Game of Thrones' parenthesis. When I read the books I thought of Sherlock as a madman who cared about Watson profoundly, but mostly cares about himself and his work. Someone who doesn’t dwell into feelings, doesn’t really enjoy sexual times and, truly, a modern-day asexual and aromantic asshole with a kink for unofficial police work. Yes, He and Watson are amazing together, and especially with RDJ and Jude Law I saw the sexual tension, which then I also saw in the BBC’s version. But for me, since I read the books first, Jonhlock will always be the exact relationship shown by House and Wilson. Sorry to disappoint.”

She was so close to him, he could smell her shampoo and count the freckles across her nose. She was staring directly into his soul. Rhys was fully clothed in an old tee and some pants and yet he’d never felt more naked.

“You never disappoint me. As a matter of fact, you never cess to amaze me, Feyre Acheron. You are perfect and beautiful both on the inside as well as on the outside. Here I was, looking for a polite way to kick you out of my apartment after you say you don’t ship one of my OTPs and now, here still I am trying not to be drowned into you and trying not to get lost into your eyes and I love you so fucking much that it physically hurts.”

His inner monologue at the time? ‘Fuck. FUCK. What the fuck did I just say???’

She had managed to fry his whole brain with her smart reasoning and perfect voice and now he had ruined a perfect moment by saying cheesy stuff to a girl that didn’t particularly care for cheese.

That was the end of Rhysand Sphera as we all know and love him.

Cause of death: killed by Feyre Acheron as result of saying something completely idiotic.

Only...

“Do you really mean that?”

She sounded hopeful and scared at the same time. The horrors she had to face in the past came running back to her and were written all over her face. Rhys took her hands in his. They were both trembling.

His mouth had probably never been that dry and yet aching to speak at the same time. He could only nod and pray she reciprocated.

That was the moment of truth.

“Of course I mean it. All of it. Each unsaid sentence and each shared glances. Every time I bring you coffee or a send you a picture of a dog that walks into my shop with its owner even though I’m terrified of them. The dog, not the owner. Even though some owners of dogs are terrifying. I have been in love with you for so long, I forgot how it feels not loving you. I look back at those times when you were not in my life and even back then I knew I was missing something. And when he-who-must-not-be-named showed up and swept you off your feet away from me, I was broken beyond repair. But you came back and made me hope that maybe, maybe all my dreams could become true. But you were hurt and also broken, and you needed time to heal. You still do. I shouldn’t have said anything, but you’re just so fucking amazing that I struggle to not scream ‘I Love You’ every time you breathe. I am utterly in love with you and hopelessly devoted to you. I understand if you still need time to heal or would rather be with someone else. But I said it, and I do not intend on taking it back.”

She was kneeling on the couch, her hands still clutching his, tears streaming down her face.

“Don’t take it back.”

Rhys thought he had heard what he wanted, so he had to ask, “What?”, a dumbstruck disbelieving-his-luck expression plastered on his face.

“I said don’t take it back. I feel the same way. I am utterly in love with you and hopelessly devoted to you too. I thought you hated me after, well, Tamlin. It is pleasant knowing we reciprocate each other’s feelings.”

Feyre laughed again, breaking the spell between them. Only, now the deed was done. Neither of them could hold their emotions in any longer. Feyre leaned in and so did Rhys, and their lips met halfway in a once in a lifetime, epic romance, Full on Princess Bride type of kiss.

After they both ran out of breath, they simply remained connected in every way possible given their awkward position. Foreheads never leaving each other, hands clasped together, lips barely touching. That spell, though, didn’t last for long. Soon they yearned to touch each other’s skin and feel each other’s bodies.

They were never going to have enough of each other.

[sevenincubistolemyheart]

Tainting Purity Chapter 2

vann

Au: Demon

Tag list: @bangtans-apollo @xsunnyhoseokx @wilhelminalucinda @xsmilebitesx @okgoogul @mariacorbi @spiritualotaku @littlekitten8590 @felic-ci @saturated-pink @fckyouartclass @saraisthoughts @godrics @theshiningmoonsblog @winterseoul @nomimits7 @miss-delacour @apphiaasensio20 @novakitten0901 @thatonebibabe @2seokkyo @marvelkatwoman @vannilacake @books-are-way-better-than-movies @bluespidergirl56 

Rating: M

Potential Triggers: Gets pretty smutty in this chapter, Kinks in this chapter include bondage and degradation, mentions of orgasm denial, edging, and forced orgasms, as well as a lot of marking.  Check the masterlist as I update for all the triggers in the series up to that point.

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 7.5k (Ya’ll are being FED)

You frowned as you looked over your naked form in the full-length mirror located in the bathroom, gently running your fingers over the small, but vibrant purple mark now decorating your neck. Jimin had really not been shy with his mouth and it had apparently ended up with a lovebite on your neck. At least your ears were safe somehow, despite Taehyung being especially rough. Your eyes lowered and widened as they took in the large bruise right in the center of your stomach where the man had punched you, a vibrant, angry red on the expanse of your skin. You winced as you gently tried to apply pressure, deeming it tender, but not unbearable. Your scalp on the other hand still stung a bit. You reached a hand up to massage the area, turning to examine the area over your shoulder. You sighed in relief as you didn’t notice much difference, besides being a little red. Thank goodness. Your father hadn’t pulled out nearly as much as you'd initially thought. It was actually just a few strands, even though it hurt like a bitch.

Your eyes saddened at the thought of your family before you shook your head and moved away from the mirror and to the shower. A quick turn of the knobs and a check of the temperature later and you were in and finally fully calm once again. You’d always been very easy to get wet, ever since you’d hit puberty. It'd always been a source of shame for you in your youth, and you’d been worried enough to ask your doctor if it was normal. A few tests later and it was easily found out that it was indeed 100% normal and just how your body was.

You grew used to it eventually and accepted it of course, but now that you would be living with 7 demons who could tell at the drop of a hat how horny you were, it was only natural to feel a bit nervous. It’s not as if it would be hard to exploit your over-sensitivity after all. Not to mention, sometimes, it wasn’t even because you were horny, it just happened! You sighed quietly, making sure to wash extra well and get rid of any remaining stickiness between your thighs. You’d have time to talk over all this with them over lunch. After your refreshing shower, you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel, glancing at the small hickey still adorning your neck. It hadn't faded even a little, of course, though the bruise on your stomach did look a little less inflamed thankfully. You exited the bathroom and spotted a white t-shirt, black sweatpants and a pair of boxers. Hopefully, Namjoon’s collar would cover the hickey fully. It seemed low enough that it could be if you positioned it right.

You hummed quietly as you got changed, fiddling with the collar and smirking triumphantly as you managed to make it hide Jimin’s mark. The boxers were surprisingly comfortable and the sweat pants slipped on with ease. You pulled the string on top to tighten it so they wouldn’t fall right off you, smiling a bit as you realized Namjoon had taken your much smaller frame into consideration. The thought of the fourth oldest made your cheeks color as you abruptly recalled his brazen actions prior to your shower but you quickly shook it off, heading back into the bathroom to take a quick look at yourself. It was...odd, to see yourself in boys clothes. You’d always imagined doing something cute like this after you got close to a guy you liked, but you couldn’t deny a part of you liked being in his clothes. It was definitely just that they were so comfortable. Yeah, that had to be it. You’d just met these boys after all, despite how intimate you’d become with some of them.

You jumped at the sound of the door opening and rushed out of the bathroom to meet whoever had entered, hearing Namjoon before you saw him.

“You alright in the-”

Namjoon suddenly cut off as he caught the sight of you, making you look down at yourself, suddenly self-conscious. Had you put something on wrong somehow? Or maybe he’d decided he didn’t like you in his clothes after all?

He coughed awkwardly and when you looked up again he looked...embarrassed? It was an odd look on him, especially after he’d become so serious earlier. You found yourself smiling at the cute picture he made before you began walking towards the door, turning to look at him over your shoulder, suddenly feeling much more confident over making someone so typically put together flustered.

“The others are waiting, right? Come on!”

You turned and continued down the hall, though this time you heard his footsteps following after you as you made your way to the lobby you’d first entered from.

Namjoon huffed a laugh when you turned to look back at him, a small cocky smirk letting you know that he was back to being himself as he quirked a knowing eyebrow your way.

“Oh did someone finally realize they have no idea where they’re going~?”

You blushed and laughed sheepishly as he took to leading you this time, noticing he had a spring in his step now that he had control over you again. Though you were suddenly taken aback by the realization that he’d teased you. Hm. You smiled a bit. It may not have seemed like much, but it showed he was growing comfortable with you. Maybe it was a good thing that you’d called him out earlier after all.

The walk to the dining room wasn’t long at all, but it became much longer as you began exchanging in witty banter. Namjoon was quite smart, and it was fun to spar with him mentally. You finally reached the dining room as you finished off your little debate, a silly grin on both your faces.

“I’m telling you, water cannot be wet, it makes other things wet, it can’t make itself wet!”

Your voice held a laugh in it as you voiced your opinion. Namjoon shook his head, rolling his eyes at you playfully. "But water, in itself, is wet! Think about it! The liquid is wet, otherwise, it wouldn’t be able to make other objects wet at all!”  You shook your head with a giggle, opening your mouth to retort again when Yoongi’s voice spoke before you could, with a surprising amount of bitterness.

“Well, don’t you two seem close? Did something happen that the rest of us don’t know about?”

You looked up in surprise, as you’d somehow not even realized that there were 6 other demons in the room with you now in addition to Namjoon. You’d never been a good liar, in fact, you were downright horrible if really pressed, so thankfully, Namjoon answered for both of you as he walked towards the others. It was a simple action, just walking away from you to join his friends.

So why did it feel like the brief bond you’d just had was wrecked beyond repair?

“You’re so funny Yoongi. Could you be any more paranoid?” Namjoon’s voice was clipped and when you looked at him, he looked at the table instead, he was so intent to not look at you.

Suddenly, you wished you could run out of the dining room and hide in the bathroom again.

There was a brief silence before Seokjin stepped forward with a loud clap of his hands. “Alright then! Who’s ready to eat?” His voice was happy, but a close look at his eyes told you he was trying to stop this before it escalated. “I made grilled cheese and tomato soup since I know everyone likes it...I hope that’s alright with you.” His eyes met yours and you forced a grin as you nodded, walking to the table to sit down between Hoseok and Taehyung. “Of course! Grilled cheese is actually a favorite of mine! I can help you cook next time if you’d like. I’m surprised you even know how to, considering you’re a demon and all. Do you guys even eat?”

Seokjin chuckled at your question. “Where we came from, no we didn’t. But ever since we’ve come here, since our bodies naturally adapt to take on the demands expected of its native inhabitants, we do.” You nodded in response before turning your attention to Hoseok as he spoke up hesitantly. “So...about those rules you mentioned?” He wasn’t looking at you, instead choosing to stir his soup.

You smiled, a bit nervous as you tried to put it off, not wanting to make them uncomfortable. “There’s no rush! Why don’t we all eat first? After we’re done, then we can talk it over, okay?” Your voice was gentle, as a quick look around the table showed that they were all very on edge. “Yes, that’s a great idea.” Namjoon chimed in, and he started chatting with Seokjin as he sat across from him after making sure everyone had food in front of them. This started a chain reaction and soon everyone was chatting and back to their usual selves. You sighed in relief and began eating, smiling at how good it was.

You looked up at the sound of your name, seeing Taehyung smiling fondly at you as he motioned to the corner of your mouth. “You have some soup right…” You blushed a bit and reached up to wipe it with your napkin, only for Yoongi to interrupt as he appeared behind you, apparently having gotten up to put his dishes in the sink. “I got it.” You turned to look at him in surprise and in that brief second he’d bent down, and licked it off the corner of your mouth, smirking devilishly at you as he gave a hum at the delicious taste, before walking off like nothing happened. You quickly ducked your head in embarrassment, laughing nervously as you tried to brush it off, even as your heart was beating a mile a minute and the intensity of his gaze felt burned in your mind.

“Ready to talk rules now angel?”

Jungkook’s voice made you turn to look at him and the smirk on his face didn’t help your flustered state in the least, though you forced yourself to nod, noticing the others attention had all turned to you.

Jimin stood up and was pulling you out of your own seat at that, suddenly very excited for a reason you didn’t understand. Weren’t they nervous about this before you’d began eating? You grew a bit suspicious. Clearly, something had changed that you weren’t aware of. “Wait! The dish-” You turned, wanting to help but Seokjin waved his hand with a light laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll do them after we talk. It’s better to let them soak anyway.” He reassured. You managed a brief nod before Jimin was dragging you, finally ending up in a living room with a couch he quickly sat you down on before he snuggled in beside you. The others all filed in and made themselves comfortable. Hoseok and Namjoon took the cute loveseat diagonal from you, while Yoongi took the seat beside you and Seokjin sat on the other side of Jimin. Jungkook and Taehyung took a recliner each, at the opposite angle to the loveseat.

The positioning of the chairs made you feel like you were performing on stage or something. You looked down, fidgeting with your fingers as you began to speak.

“So...um...I guess the first thing I wanna say is that I’m setting these rules and boundaries not because I don’t trust you guys because I totally do, I just feel a little apprehensive is all. I mean, I’ve never lived with anyone besides my parents before now, and in addition to you being boys, there’s the whole added dimension of you all being demons, and incubi at that.”

You realized you were rambling a bit and grew quiet, shyly observing the boys reactions as you looked up. They didn’t seem offended so that was good but...there was an odd cheerfulness in their expressions that you didn’t particularly like. Your suspicions were confirmed when Namjoon spoke up. “We’re totally fine with that...but for every rule you make, we either get to have one too or negotiate on the one you make.” He sounded awful proud of himself and you took a moment to mull it over.

It really wasn’t that bad a deal. It seemed fair, to both of you, and so you nodded.

“Alright, fine. But there are certain things that are hard stops for me that you’re going to need to respect with no room for negotiation. To be fair, I’ll only have 3. Alright?”

Namjoon’s eyes darkened and a smirk twitched at his lips as he hid his irritation behind it.

“Who’s the one being business-like now?”

You cleared your throat, suddenly very aware of how red his little comment had made you and ignored his cheeky ass grin. Bastard.

“A-Anyway, my first rule is that you can’t just...come onto me like you did in the car. It was too much for me and I wasn’t prepared at all. You all know very well I’m a virgin, so please, go easy on me.” Your voice grew a bit quieter as you looked down at your hands again until Yoongi raised your chin to meet his cool gaze.

“...Not a chance.”

You stared at him for a moment before you fully processed his words but when you did, your cheeks heated from outrage rather than in embarrassment for once. “W-Why not!?”

Hoseok spoke up with a serious tone while you basically had a staring contest with Yoongi. “Did you not see how you affected all of us? There’s no way we’re going to be able to hold ourselves back from ravishing you, especially your virgin body.” You finally looked away from Yoongi as he released your chin and felt your cheeks heat as you saw Hoseok lick his lips hungrily while staring you down.

“W-Well...never in public then!”

“...Not even with your exhibition kink?”

Your head whipped around so fast to glare at Jungkook you swear you got whiplash, even though you heard Yoongi snort in amusement. “Do not even go there Jeon Jungkook. We are so far from being there right now!”

He merely smirked back at you and leaned back into the couch, leaning his head on his arms comfortably as he spread his legs, further showing his confidence. His smirk grew into a bunny smile as he no doubt realized his dominant posture got you going all over again. “Why not? You seemed to like it plenty when you noticed my hyungs were watching you fall apart under our touch.”

You scrambled for words, before huffing. “That’s not the point! I don’t know you guys! Not really!” You took a deep breath to further calm yourself before continuing. “Just because I have kinks in my mind that you know of doesn’t give you the right to use them on me as you please. I’ve never done any of this kinda stuff before and it’s important to me for it to have meaning!”

Taehyung finally spoke up, playing mediator. “Alright, so how about this? We can mess with you in public as we please to a fair extent, and we won’t take it too far. Keep in mind we can tell when you get close, or when it’s getting to be too much for you so we’ll stop before you get to that point. And, if we’re in public, we’ll warn you beforehand with a whisper or a hand on your thigh or something. But, in return, that means when we get you alone back here you're at our mercy. Fair?”

You thought it over and reluctantly nodded. “...Okay. But Go-” You caught yourself before the holy being’s name could slip fully from your lips and swallow before continuing. “Don’t take it too far or the rule gets stricter. Got it?” At their nods, you sighed. “Alright. And what about going easy on me?”

Seokjin snorted so suddenly that you looked at him in surprise but his expression wasn’t amused. It was stone cold dominance. “You don’t really want that, do you?” The words themselves were innocent but the dark, sultry tone he delivered them in had you shivering, too scared of what would happen if you looked away to break his intense gaze. “...N-No.” You admitted, voice meek. He gave a hum of approval at your answer and you crossed your legs at his praise to hide your growing arousal. “Good girl.”  

Damn them all, weren’t you supposed to be the one in control right now!?

From then on, it became a tug of war between you and the others. You hard stop rules were all agreed to so far. The stoplight system was your first one since while the boys knew your body and desires intimately, they didn’t know how much you could take mentally. So, when you said yellow they had to slow down whatever they were doing, and if you said red, they had to stop immediately. Simple enough. The second one was even simpler. If you said stop when they started doing something or were about to, they had to listen, because sometimes, you just weren’t in the mood, or you’d become wet despite not being aroused in the least.

They added a rule of their own when you said they couldn’t bring any people they wanted to feed off of, saying you, in turn, couldn’t bring any guys you liked, either. They wouldn’t elaborate on why, but you gave in, figuring it was important thanks to how serious they’d become. You doubted other guys would be an issue anyway with your previous track record so it wasn’t a big deal to you.

“My final hard stop rule is that I just want to know more about your kind.” You rushed to correct yourself as you saw some of them grow defensive, while others tensed, or outright glared at you. You're pretty sure you even heard Hoesok growl at you before Namjoon put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I don’t need to know everything, I just want to know what you're capable of, and what I should look out for from others of your kind. I’m an uneducated Human and I read that demons are getting more brazen, and starting to pick up Humans for the human trafficking industry, in retaliation for all the demons going missing thanks to others of my kind doing the same to yours. I just want to be safe.”

“I know you said no negotiation, but there needs to be on this one. Some of our abilities will be used on you and we want to surprise you with them. Besides that, while we won’t tell you the abilities of the other types, out of respect, we will tell you what to stay away from when it comes up. You really won’t have to worry about staying safe. We’ll be with you when you go to demon parties and clubs with us, and we’ll be sure to make it known to the others that you belong to us.”

Jimin smirked before you could even open your mouth to retaliate. “Don’t get offended over that belong to us comment Taehyung made. It’s merely how we view Mortals in Demon society. You’ll grow used to it, and you like it anyway, so there’s no need to pretend you don’t.” His voice was sweet but the words themselves made you blush, and also a little confused. You weren’t physically aroused from that comment, you’d merely thought it was a hot concept.

You nodded though, pushing it to the back of your mind for now as you gave in to the compromise.

Hoseok spoke up next, a smirk reminding you that he wasn’t just the sweet boy he appeared to be and that he was indeed just as despicable as the others. “Fine. Our rule is that we still get to use suggestion, and any other abilities we want on you, if it’ll bring you more pleasure, and isn’t taking advantage. Fair?”

You nodded again after a moment’s thought. Honestly, you had the feeling that if you declined, they’d just do it anyway and hide it better. Plus, the other rules you’d set meant you could stop them if you needed.

You opened your mouth to continue when Taehyung squinted at you suddenly and leaned forward in an attempt to see better. “Is that what I think it is?” His voice was a low, predatory growl that made your eyes widen as you rushed to look at what he was talking about. You looked down and winced, noticing Namjoon’s collar had fallen a bit causing the hickey to peek out. Shit.

“It’s really nothing, don’t worry about it!!!” Your voice was higher pitched than normal as you waved your hands but they all saw through you easily. Yoongi grabbed the collar and pulled it down with ease despite you trying to struggle, actually growling like a dog when he saw Jimin’s mark on you. “...Which one of them did it?” Seokjin’s voice broke the now very tension-filled room.

“Oh, I mean...I-I don’t remember!” You stumbled over your words, feeling like you needed to protect Jimin from the others as you saw how angry they all looked.

Yoongi suddenly roughly pulled you to your feet, pulling you after him and ignoring your protests. “Yoongi stop! Where are we going? We’re not done talking yet!”

“We are now. Until you’re ready to tell us who gave you that fucking hickey, no rule is going to protect you from what we do to you angel.” Namjoon’s voice at your ear made you shiver subconsciously.

“It’s just a small hickey! It’s not even that bad, you guys are overreacting! I’m sure it was just a mistake!”

You yelped as Hoseok suddenly pulled you away from Yoongi’s grip, slamming his hands next to your face as you were cornered against a door. “You said you wanted to learn more about our kind, didn’t you? Well, now we’re going to teach you, first hand. By marking you like that, he’s created a connection between himself and you on a very intimate level. He can now hear some of your thoughts, feel some of your emotions, and on top of that, he’s even more in touch with your arousal. We’re incubi, masters of bringing Humans pleasure and you think it was a mistake?” He chuckled darkly, and you gasped quietly as you saw his eyes turn a dark, nearly hypnotic shade of red.

“Lay off her Hoseok. I know it’s been a long time since you last fed, but you need to stay calm.” Namjoon’s voice was quiet but serious. He merely continued glaring down at you with his strangely beautiful eyes, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. “Back off. Now, Hobi.” Seokjin’s voice gave him the push he needed as he huffed before taking a few steps away from you, looking away to collect himself.

“W-Why are his eyes red? I thought you all had black eyes, like Yoongi’s.” 

Said male whirled to look at you and chuckled darkly. “Perceptive little thing, aren’t you? There’s a lot you don’t understand yet, but I suppose we can tell you a bit, to appease your Mortal curiosity.” 

You quickly grew irritated, not taking well to being patronized and talked down to. “I’m not a child, stop treating me like one!” You snapped, although you were quickly cut off by Yoongi, as he cornered you, just as quickly as Hoseok had moments before. He smirked, smugly, and gently caressed your face. “You are to us. We’ve been around for a very long time, in many different forms. Maybe we ought to teach you how to respect your elders. What do you think?” He questioned turning to look at the makeshift leader who'd been almost entirely silent save for scolding Hoseok. 

He seemed to contemplate Yoongi’s offer, eyes searching yours, expression blank, before he smirked, causing ice to shoot through your veins. “Mm. Fine. But let's not take it too far. She-”

You didn't hear Namjoon's last words as you were entirely distracted by Yoongi’s lips roughly assaulting your own, full of passion as you nervously fumbled to kiss back, surprised but not wanting your first kiss to go to waste. You felt Yoongi smirk against your lips at your clumsy attempt though he pulled back after a few more seconds, leaving you dazed. 

“The fuck Yoongi!? You know she's never kissed anyone before you should've checked with the rest of us!!!” Seokjin seethed, clenching his fists. 

Yoongi merely shrugged. “Sorry.” The smug grin tugging at his lips, however, showed he was anything but and he found himself shoved aside by Seokjin. 

“Hey-”

“I'm fine, don't worry.” He waved off Namjoon and his eyes were indeed their typical honey brown unlike Hoseok’s. He loomed over you and you gasped as he abruptly pinned your hands above your head, causing heat to immediately flood your core. He sensed your arousal and smirked as you looked behind him, noticing the others’ eyes had darkened. 

“Just want to whet my appetite a bit. I'm the most experienced out of all of us anyway. Yoongi only took her first kiss…there's still so many more firsts we can take~”

Your voice and will were weak. 

“Don't I get a say in this?”

Seokjin purred in response. “Come now darling, no need to lie to us. We don't judge. Now then, you were wondering about our eyes earlier, correct?”

He kept talking casually, all the while keeping you pinned easily, even as you instinctively tried to get free when the other demons approached you. 

“Well, it’s actually very simple. See, when we haven’t fed in a good while, our eyes may turn red if we get angry, or smell a potential food source. Sometimes it’ll happen even if we just spot easy prey. In addition, our red eyes enhance our other abilities, so it’s easier for us to get food, much like when you Humans have a sudden burst of adrenaline in stressful situations.” As he continued speaking, the other 3 reached out and began idly letting their fingers trace across your pinned body. Yoongi dwelled at your neck and collarbone, as Namjoon traced your torso while Hoseok let one of his hands run through your hair, and the other traced the other side of your midsection. “As for our black eyes-” He moved your wrists to one of his large hands and held you with ease, raising your chin to force you to meet his gaze so abruptly you gasped. You hadn’t even realized he’d moved and you watched in fascination as his caramel pools were taken over by an inky black that also covered the whites of his eyes. “These are just our natural color. You Mortals seem to fear it innately most likely due to the media's portrayal of us, and so, as I mentioned briefly during lunch, our bodies naturally adapt to our environment, including the way our eyes look so we can blend in better.”

Seokjin’s words made sense but you found yourself getting distracted as Hoseok began teasing your waistline, ever so slowly creeping lower and the other two demons touch only enhanced everything you were feeling. Their featherlight touch was starting to drive you mad, and you attempted to squirm in Jin’s grip again, though he merely smiled kindly and held you firmer against the door. Namjoon’s breath tickled your ear as he whispered, huskily. “...We’ll be more than happy to help you out, right after you tell us who gave you that mark.” 

You huffed at that, only to squeak as Hoseok squeezed your hip in warning, sending heat straight to your core as he grumbled his warning, voice somewhat playful, though his eyes held the promise that he would follow through. “Don’t be difficult, c'mon, baby. You’re not the only one who’s frustrated and the longer you make me wait by being stubborn, the meaner I’m gonna be to you…” 

You swallowed back your moan with difficulty, your breathing slowly growing heavier despite your best efforts to stay calm. Yoongi’s observant gaze immediately caught sight of you trying to clench your thighs together for friction and he clucked his tongue, causing Seokjin and him to switch places before you could so much as blink. You couldn’t help the frustrated glare you sent his way if you tried as he forced your legs to spread with his own, keeping you helpless and unable to get even the tiniest bit of relief unless they gave it to you. He merely chuckled at your ire cheekily. 

“Glare at me all you want, you’re the one that’s being stubborn.”

You fought as best you could, and lasted quite a long time considering you were against 4 incubi so you were impressed with your own resilience. It was only when Seokjin and Namjoon began double teaming your neck and one of Hoseok’s fingers brushed across your clothed core that you stifled a moan and gave in. “Hnn...f-fine, fine just, please! It was Jimin!” You shouted out, before succumbing to panting as Jin released you, catching your breath and waiting for you flushed cheeks to die down as they gave you a bit of space to collect yourself somewhat. 

As you fully recovered you finally tuned in to what they were saying. Namjoon chuckled. “It’s a good thing Jimin doesn’t know how to properly Mark her. Their bond is weak, nothing like what it could be.” Yoongi snorted. “Jimin? I’d be more worried about Jungkook. With how possessive he is with his prey? Forget it, poor girl would never leave the house without a proper Mark if he had anything to say about it.” Seokjin shook his head, rolling his eyes at their banter. “Well, we don’t need to worry. All 7 of us are needed, so he wouldn’t be able to do something so drastic without the rest of us...we’ll only use it whenever we take her to Void’s for now.” They all nodded at that and you felt curiosity and confusion bubble up within you. 

A mark that needed all 7 of them? Void’s? You were tempted to ask but thought better of it and instead pretended you didn’t hear anything. Better to keep the ace in your pocket as they say. Plus...you were admittedly still horny behind belief and desperately were craving some relief. You turned, about to make your way to your room when someone whirled you around and tugged you through the very same door they’d been holding you against not 10 minutes earlier. 

“Where do you think you’re going cutie? Don’t tell me you forgot about our agreement. We’re both frustrated...why not help each other~? I’ll just feed off of you if you masturbate alone anyway.” 

You flushed crimson as you looked up at Hoseok, and Yoongi who’d silently slipped in behind him.

“Was I really that obvious?” 

Yoongi smirked before he responded bluntly.

“Sweetheart, you’re basically Niagara Falls down there right now. The fact that you thought we’d ever let you pleasure yourself in solitude is an adorable notion. I’m sure Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin were all going to pounce on you if we didn’t tug you in here first. Hell, the way Namjoon was looking at you at lunch earlier, I’m sure even he would’ve pushed his pride aside for a piece of you right now.” His eyes darkened as he talked about Namjoon and you found yourself backing away from him as he approached you, causing you to stumble back onto the bed. 

You looked behind you in surprise and Hoseok took the opportunity to pounce, eyes melting to their usual black out of habit as he pressed his mouth to yours, stifling your surprised cry with ease as Yoongi joined you both on the bed after a few moments. You kissed back with a bit more confidence this time, testing the waters, and Hobi softened at this, reluctantly letting you take control for a moment so you could properly experiment if you wanted to. When you went to pull away though, feeling shy, he grabbed the back of your neck to guide your lips back to his own before tenderly running his tongue across your lower lip, meeting your eyes as you opened them in surprise. The black was gone now, as he forced himself to calm. He was too used to taking his aggression out on his usual victims of fetishists and terrorizers of their kind it seemed. 

He’d need to take it slower with you, he had to remind himself you weren’t experienced with this yet and he wanted to bring you as much pleasure as he possibly could. 

You felt something soft encircle your ankles you realized in a daze and it was only when you attempted to wrap your hands around Hoseok’s neck that you realized you couldn’t move any father as your legs wouldn't move any further. You frowned, pulling away from Hoseok and looking to the foot of the bed only to realize you'd been restrained with silk. Sure, you’d always been interested in bondage, and you knew they would innately know that as well, but before you continued you needed to make sure.

Despite your mounting desire, you pulled away again as Hoseok attempted to kiss you once again forcing yourself to mumble. “S-Stop for a sec.” Immediately both compiled and sat in front of you. Hoseok looked vaguely annoyed but Yoongi was nothing but quiet, waiting patiently until you calmed down enough to speak properly. 

“...I…” you hesitated. “You know I’m a-” Yoongi cut you off, but his voice was gentle for once instead of harsh. “We won’t penetrate you until you’re ready, and ask us to. Even us incubi have standards. None of us will go that far until you explicitly ask for it.”

You sighed in relief and smiled, nodding. “Then...that’s fine. You guys can continue...i-if you want I mean.” You suddenly felt shy as you blushed, and looked away nervously, though Hoseok guided your face to meet his gaze. “Trust me, we always want to angel. Now, let’s have some more fun yeah?” He smirked against your cheek and moved further upwards, switching roles with Yoongi, who easily pulled you into a kiss. You found he used more tongue than Hoseok had and that he was quite skilled with it. It wasn’t long until you were moaning into his mouth, embarrassment long forgotten. Hoseok tapped your wrists in gentle warning before your arms were pulled apart and tied to the bedposts, leaving you tied spread eagle and vulnerable.

Yoongi’s mouth moved to your neck and you winced as his lips brushed across Jimin’s hickey though it quickly turned to pleasure as he began to suck and nip at the sensitive skin on the other side. 

Hoseok meanwhile, snickered at your ear, his fingers idly pulling Namjoon’s shirt over your head with Yoongi’s help and undoing the clasp on your bra. “It’s a good thing you like being marked pretty girl because you’re going to be absolutely covered in them by the end of tonight.” 

You could only mewl in response, so wet you couldn’t move without feeling how soaked you were. You’d have to do Namjoon’s laundry to make it up to him. 

True to their word your mind was soon hazy with want as you whined, desperate as they teased you with lingering touches that only made you crave more. Being restrained as you were definitely enhanced your sensitivity but it was even better than you’d imagined honestly. Every touch they graced your helpless body with made you want to simultaneously beg them to stop, though you somehow still wanted more. 

“You guys are so cruel, making her moan like that when you know I can feel her getting more and more aroused. C’mon let me join!” You looked up in fearful surprise at first at the sudden voice, having not even heard the door open but relaxed once you saw it was just Jimin. 

Yoongi hummed, idly letting his fingers tap along your inner thighs, making you tremble. “I don’t know if we should. It was pretty fucked up of you to try and mark her when you know damn well we prefer marking in a group so we’re all even.” 

Jimin opened his mouth to retaliate but stiffened as Hoseok took over. “If it was your solo pick for a night that’s one thing. But you overstepped, and you deserve to be punished. Why don’t you have a seat?” He cocked his head to the side, and his eyes flashed black as the chair seemed to drag itself across the floor until it was within Jimin’s reach. He grabbed it and hesitated before sitting down after closing the door, the look in Hoseok’s eyes finally convincing him, even though he was dying to touch you. 

Hoseok smirked at his compliance before he turned his attention back to you, letting his hands go back to what they’d been doing previously; playing with your breasts. You squeaked as Yoongi’s fingers teased your covered private area, just the smallest brush of his fingers sending a rush of arousal through you that had both you and Jimin whimpering. 

“Hell, you look perfect like this babe. Stretched out and at our mercy, begging us for more stimulation as we tease you. Mm...this should be your job.” Hobi breathed into your ear, his fingers pinching your nipples in a way that had you hissing in pleasure. 

Yoongi easily took over the dirty talk, tsk’ing as he felt your thighs tense from trying to rub together and picking up his pace, running first one, and then two fingers up and down your clothed core, stopping to rub circles into your clit every now and again to make you gasp. “Horny little slut’d probably love that, wouldn’t you? All you’d get to do was stay here, we’d all come in when we wanted and do as we wished, whether that be edging you for hours…” He slowed his pace, grinning sadistically as you cried out. “Or making you scream till you’re hoarse.” He emphasized his words by picking up his pace further, steadily rubbing circles into your sensitive love button now as Hoseok attacked your ear with his tongue and teeth both, all while his hands continued their merciless rubbing and pinching.

Soon, you were a moaning mess, feeling a familiar warmth building in your stomach that you raced towards with their help. Your first orgasm washed over you and it was everything you’d ever heard about and more. Jesus, was it legal to feel this good? The waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away and it was then that you realized there was pressure on your throat.

You coughed lightly, and looked up at Jimin in surprise, feeling your pussy clench at the dangerous look in his eyes as well as his fingers lightly curled around your throat. 

“What did we say about mentioning those kinds of names hm?”

You rolled your eyes at him and scoffed as he pulled away to let you respond properly. “I didn’t even say it out loud, chill out! You’re the one that wanted to be in my head so bad, don’t blame me for not liking what you hear!”  You snapped back. 

You heard Yoongi suck air in through his teeth hard and even Hoseok tensed behind you as you talked back brazenly but Jimin only smiled, nodded, and walked out of the room with a wave. His parting words made your heart lurch. 

 “Fine. Be a brat if you want. But be warned that every single one of are master brat tamers kitten, and you talking back like that? It won’t last.” 

You laughed nervously at that and asked the two demons as they were untying you and helping you up. “He won’t follow through on that, right? He was just saying it to scare me into submission?” You clarified, a little nervous. You hadn’t even really been thinking when you’d retorted honestly, you were just peeved that he wouldn’t let you come down from your high in peace. 

Yoongi chuckled. “Sweetheart, we all can be pretty scary when we’re angry, but Jimin is the type to hold grudges and he doesn’t forget little slights like this. I’d be careful if I were you.” 

Hoseok further explained at your confused look, handing you a glass of water which you drank thankfully. “Jimin is one of the most giving incubi I’ve ever met...until someone pisses him off badly enough. He once kept a girl who’d broken Taehyung’s nose on the edge for a full week until she was begging him for mercy. Then he forced so many orgasms out of her she couldn’t even put her underwear back on without his help, she was that sensitive. Jimin can be up there with the cruelest of us, we all can, so don’t test us if you know what’s good for you, and be a good girl for us, alright?” Hoseok pecked your cheek before walking out with his typical pep and Yoongi hummed as he patted your head. 

“Don’t let Hobi scare you, Jimin and the rest of us would never be that mean, but we can make it feel like we are, especially because you’re so sensitive and easy to rile up. Jimin plays dirty despite his cute facade, so just be on your guard.” He began making his way to the door though he stopped with a quiet “oh!” of remembrance and turned to face you again. “Try not to let Kook see that bruise on your stomach by the way. He’d feel awful if he knew you got hurt because of him. We’re heading out to get you some of your own clothes in a bit, so get yourself together and meet us in the main hall alright? It’s getting pretty late already.”

With that, he was gone and you were left with your thoughts as you made your way back to Namjoon’s room. You opened the door and walked in, still taken aback from Jimin’s threat, if it could be considered such and was met with the smooth expanse of Namjoon’s bare back making you flush and turn your own back to him. “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to knock!”

Namjoon merely snickered at your reaction, turning you around with a wink. “No need to knock. You’re more than welcome to look cutie, I was just getting changed for our outing.” He pursed his lips as he took in your hastily reassembled form, a coy smirk touching his lips as he caught the lingering scent of your release. “Looks like you need a new change of clothes hm? Here.” He dug around his closet for a moment and came back to hand you another change of clothes, making you bow your head in sheepish thanks as you made your way to the bathroom to change. 

“Next time, it won’t be Hoseok and Yoongi who punish you. It’ll be me, and I can promise you that if you think Jimin is scary, you don’t want to see how I act if you try and hide a mark like that from me again. Are we clear?” 

You blushed at the clear dominance in his tone and nodded furiously, turning to look back and him and flinching as you realized he was right behind you now, towering over you and still shirtless though you forced yourself to look nowhere but at his eyes. “Y-Yes yes, of course!” He smirked at your response and leaned down. You thought he was going to kiss you but instead, his lips went to your neck. “It’s not fair that Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin all got to mark you. I think I deserve a bond with you too...don’t you babygirl?” At your eager nod, you felt his smirk widen against your skin and then the feel of teeth made you yelp and instinctively struggle.

This wasn’t a nibble, lick, or suck like with the others. This was a bite. And fuck if it didn’t make you hot and bothered all over again. It was over way too soon for your liking, but once he was done you were sure his was the biggest mark, a message to the others who would probably want to mark you as well now. Your eyes widened as you saw blood-your blood- dribble from his lips. 

His tongue darted out and licked it into his mouth, causing his eyes to flash red before he turned away from you abruptly, muttering in a strangled voice. “You should go get ready.” 

It was only when he heard the bathroom door shut and fabric hitting the floor that he let his eyes close in ecstasy. 

Another thing that triggered red eyes?

Blood.

A/N: And that’s a wrap on Chapter 2 of Tainting Purity! I very much hope it lives up the hype since I rewrote this like 3 times lol. 

We’ve got some juicy stuff going on now so that’s exciting! 

If any of you guys are bored and really likes this series, having a beta reader to bounce ideas off of/help me edit would be super helpful if anyone is interested! Just message me or shoot me an ask, maybe I’ll make a Discord or something if enough people want to! 

Also, fun idea...send me asks for any of the boys in this series if you want and I'll answer in character! Just be sure to specify, and know in advance that I’ll dance around spoiler questions, though I may through the occasional hint in. We’ll see.

As always, any and all feedback makes me inspired and also feeds my praise kink so please do tell me whatcha thought, or just come and rant incoherently! I love it all! 

Okay, love you guys, thanks so much for reading!