#you won't find smut here I'm absolutely not descriptive it's just a small idea as always

[leventart-den]

I'm here with another silly idea for ZoSan, dear Strawhearts. And you know what? I love cliches. Because for me it is always so much fun to take something that is very well-known and predictable and think how it can be turned around and changed. So, of course, when I see the "f*ck or die" tag on AO3, my brain immediately starts to work and think what I can do with it. I'm writing this in a very subdued and non-descriptive manner (because I'm just sharing a general idea), but I think you can fill in the blanks given the topic.

So what if this happened and during another battle with an enemy ship, Sanji was somehow drugged.

And now this is a ten times worse version of Sanji, and not only regarding girls. And since it's ZoSan, of course Zoro is the one who finds Sanji in the kitchen and notices that something is wrong with the shitty cook. They fight as usual, but in the end it ends with Sanji admitting that he needs help. He tells Zoro that he trusts him, that he is strong enough to watch over him and not let him out of the kitchen so that Sanji doesn't do things to others that he will later regret. 

So now they're stuck in the kitchen alone with Zoro shooing everyone away from the door who comes to find out what's going on. Although later they still had to move down to another cabin because Luffy couldn’t live without food and was ready to break inside. Sanji, in turn, is holding up adequately for now, but over time things are getting worse. Zoro can tell that the cook is burning like a furnace even sitting a few steps away from him.

Over time, Zoro begins to talk to Sanji to distract him. Somehow they manage to talk to each other without the usual fighting and insults. This is probably because Sanji is too out of it and just doesn't have the strength. And Zoro, despite the impression of an idiot that he sometimes creates, is actually very smart and attentive and senses the situation enough to react adequately. Because you can't be the best swordsman if you can't read your enemies and people in general as a consequence. And Sanji is not just a crew member, he has always been his rival. Zoro is able to read Sanji better than anyone to this point. So he understands when "it's not the right time". 

Although, as a few more hours pass, everything begins to slide even further down the slope. Zoro begins to think that the shitty cook has bitten more than he can chew. And if Zoro is completely frank, he himself has been having “strange” thoughts for some time now, which he stubbornly refuses to name. He suggests turning to Chopper for medical help, but Sanji categorically refuses. Chopper is too young and there is no way in hell that Sanji would allow him to be exposed to “such things in life” even as a doctor.

More time passes and when at some point Sanji stops responding to Zoro and he realizes that Curly blacked out Zoro thinks that he had enough.

He manages to bring Sanji back to consciousness and angrily (because he’s worried, although he won’t admit it) says that the cook is an idiot and instead of being stubborn and enduring and possibly dying, Zoro could help him. They could solve this problem. And in general it’s not even a problem, there’s nothing “special” about it, they’ll just forget about it after that and that’s it. However, despite his clouded consciousness, Sanji watched him very carefully and maybe he would have believed Zoro that “there is nothing special about this” if he had not been red as a tomato and his hands had not trembled so much, despite how tightly they were squeezing the collar of his shirt. 

So after a moment of silence, he carefully removed Zoro's hands, never taking his eyes off Zoro.

"Marimo. If you want to help me, help me. Stay with me. Make sure I don't do anything stupid. Restart my heart if it stops. Help me breathe if I can't anymore. But don't fucking ever offer me this solution again. That won't happen, not in circumstances like these. Not under pressure. I don't want to hear this. I'd rather fucking die than let anything control me and influence my actions. I am my own man, this is my body and only I can decide what and how."

There was something left unsaid. Something Zoro doesn't know yet about the cook's past. But he understands that it is important enough not to try to propose this solution anymore.

Silence fell after that, interrupted only by Sanji's heavy breathing and muffled wheezes of pain. Each of them with their own thoughts. Curly is strong, Zoro knows he will get through, but despite this, for some reason it’s hard to hear his pain. Zoro's hand twitches to reach out to him and somehow bring comfort. But he doesn't do that, he just sits next to him.

It becomes dark, night falls over the sea and a sudden thought comes to Zoro.

“You said that you don’t want it to happen under such circumstances.. Does that mean that under different..”

"Shut up shitty Marimo."

"..you would make out with me?"

Zoro doesn't see Sanji's face, he doesn't answer. But the silence is so loud that Zoro begins to think that he is about to suffocate. He wasn't prepared for how hard it would hit him.

They don't speak after that. It's deep into the night when Zoro hears that Sanji's breathing has become measured, he seems to have fallen asleep. The drug has worn off. Zoro sighs, feeling suddenly very tired and as if sobered up. This is an unpleasant and strange feeling. It was as if it suddenly became colder. He feels nervous and angry. And the worst thing is he understands why.

He is afraid of losing what he doesn't have. What he didn't know he needed. Something he didn't notice.

Sanji shifts in his sleep and Zoro feels a growl forming in his throat.

He doesn't sleep that night.

He guards.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Writing update

While there won't be any new meta for the time being, here's another update on the current state of my works because, first and foremost, I'm a writer.

Did My Heart Love 'Til Now

I have 45 out 186 scenes of the sequel to CYHMH left to revise. After my illness, I ramped up the pace a little. I'm still cutting unnecessary dialogue and descriptions but add some other stuff when it feels important, which is increasing the wordcount. I'm talking about adding <2k more words to a 330k work, so we're still below the 1% threshold.

When I decided to revise this story, I thought that it was utterly boring and with too much cute domestic Viktuuri and smut--nothing wrong with either, but I felt as if the plot was wanting. I'm quite content with the current work, although it still has a great portion of slice-of-life that dilutes the plot. While in my YOI novelisation slice-of-life made sense to fill the gaps between the episodes and to explore Yuuri and Viktor as well as their relationship, I still think that should be cut down in the sequel. I know I can do better.

Once this revision is done, I will hand it over to my beta of Thousands Spotlights for a first impression (you might call it an alpha-reading if such a thing exists). I don't want to put too much effort into something to find out that I must start from scratch again because it lacks wit and tension. But before I'm ready to have anyone else read this story, I want to have one last look at the smutty scenes as something has turned up I need to handle with utmost care (just as Viktor handles his precious Katsudon).

Speaking of handling with utmost care...

Can You Hear My Heartbeat

As this story is rapidly approaching the Cup of China aka the event at which Yuuri's true Eros shows for the first time, there are some small details in the upcoming chapters, which I must take care of when I will give these chapters their final edit. This won't delay the posting cycle, it's just another thing I will watch out for when I update those chapters for the last time. In addition to my beta of that story, the beta of Vitya's story will assist me with her expertise on the subject.

This whole thing is a little tricky as while I was writing the CYHMH, I unknowingly did something right I had no concept of at that time (we're talking about the period from 2021-2022 and a lot has happened since). Back then, I wrote what made the most sense regarding canon and added a little of my own experience where I could relate to the character's situation. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. But when you write about something you have no concept of, you are prone to adding common misconceptions or just produce utter bullshit, and thus I must put all the respective scenes under scrutiny. I'm really anxious to mess it up this time.

I'm sorry that this sounds very cryptic, but at this point it's all very half-baked and not yet at a stage where I can talk about it (I'm not even sure I want to). It's like accidentally writing an autistic-coded character before you know that you're autistic, but because you have no concept of autism, you add harmful stereotypes. (No, that didn't happen here, but you get the idea.)

Anyway, I hope that you will like the result!

[lovelywingsart]

//AU// New Room

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

Ahhhh just ignore the fact that I can't figure out a good title for this one. :'D Or a good description. These are absolutely gonna be more angsty as time goes on for a little bit! (And my offer for taking story ideas still stands! I will say, I won't be focusing on smut for this. Like, at all... I do have one during the pregnancy as a WIP, as well as a few others later along the line, but it's not easy at all at the moment and I may throw them in at a later time like how I do for the main timeline... So for now, no smut stories for the AU. Sorry...! QuQ")

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3**

-----

*Warnings?: Just a little bit of angst, I guess?? Not much, really. Maybe pregnancy symptoms, and a slightly more emotionally distant metal man.

Summary: Progress is being made! ... On Emelias new room, at least... Karl still isn't one for talking, and takes her begging for assisting him with a bit of a grain of salt.

Heisenberg had been right.

It had only been a few days since their conversation, and Emelia now stood in front of a currently doorless frame, staring into the nearly completed 'safe room' with a wide eye. How he had gotten this much done, she had no idea... Then again, this was what he was good at. Even if she had wandered off to sleep from the weakness she experienced, she would come back and much more would be done than before... His ability to keep going with little to no rest was honestly amazing, and never failed to impress her, no matter the situation.

... Even if it DID worry her just a bit.

She watched in silent awe as he shifted a few pipes around, her eye on him near constantly when she wasn't watching the moving metal parts around them. She followed his every move, from the twitches of his fingers, to his own physical work in 'insulating' the room itself to keep warm and protect from noise. Even now it was surprisingly quiet, and she knew she'd be alright. Warm from the pipes... quiet from the insulation... She only wished he would let her help.

"Can I help you?" He asked suddenly, making her jerk out of her trance. She met his eyes, finding that he had been looking back at her for quite some time. But she shook her head, managing to tear her eyes away for a moment.

"I just wish there was something I could do, is all..." she said quietly. He stared at her for a moment more before focusing on the wall once more, shaking his head.

"Just sit there and look pretty." He said flatly. "You're not doing a damn thing in here. You already agreed on that."

She gave a huff, but crossed her arms.

"It just... doesn't feel right." She managed, leaning against the frame. "This room is... It's for me. For us." She gestured to her stomach slightly. "I feel like I should be helping in some way instead of standing around and being utterly useless..."

He paused for a moment, nearly flinching at her words enough for the small bolts around him to falter. 'Useless'... He hated that word. He hated it with a fucking passion. And as much as she had been pestering him these past few days, and as much as it admittedly annoyed him a bit, it hurt to hear her of all people saying it... Because even now, he knew damn well it wasn't true.

He finally sighed, backing away from the wall and grabbing the rag from over his shoulder. He used it to wipe his hands free of dirt and some grime as he made his way over, his expression that of mild worry.

"You're not 'useless', Emelia. You know that." He said, stopping in front of her. "I just... Don't want anything to happen. One wrong move, and..."

He shrugged. He didn't even have to finish his sentence, and she frowned.

"... I know..." she said quietly. She shrugged, herself, and looked up at him. "I just... I'm not used to... this. I'm not used to NOT working... I don't know what else to do with myself when this is all I've known for the last... however long."

"But you're the one who planned this." He said, gesturing to the nearly completed room around them. "You've been giving direction, and you have the slightest goddamn idea of what you want, not me. You're helping, Emmy. Just not physically. Not for a few months, at least."

"But I WANT to help physically, Karl!" She tried, looking around them. "'Few months' or no, it's just..." she fought for words for a few moments before looking at the wall with a frown. "It's almost complete, at least let me help with something...!!"

He kept his eyes on her as she looked back at him. There was a small desperation in her voice that always got to him. It wasn't the first time that she did it, and it was always unintentional... But for some ungodly reason, it always got under his skin in the most irritating, yet somewhat pitiful and strangely charming way possible. It made it very hard to say no, and even now he wavered despite his obvious opposition to it.

He stayed silent as his thoughts ran, though finally sighed as she tilted her head just slightly. Like a goddamn spoiled puppy-

"Alright, alright, fucking- ... Fine." he grumbled, reaching to rub the back of his neck. "Look, just... let me finish this little bit. Some of the piping needs to be adjusted, and then the wall needs to be set. After I'm done that... You can help with a few things."

He watched as she slowly grew visibly excited, though he held up his hand in a settling motion as she nearly started bouncing in place.

"Cool your jets, Doll. I only said a FEW things." He said sternly. She nearly frowned again.

"Then what-" she started, but was interrupted by the clicking of his tongue.

"Small things. I still won't let you carry more than you fucking weigh like you usually do. And the first thing that goes in here is a goddamn BED." He then pointed to the door as she opened her mouth to protest. "And I mean a fucking mattress Emelia, not a cot. Even I know those things can destroy you if given the time, and I'm not risking that."

"... Where will we get a mattress so immediately?" She asked slowly. He then shrugged.

"You'll use the one from upstairs and I'll have Duke grab a new one." He said casually. She stared at him.

"Where will YOU sleep until then??"

"Who says I'll sleep?" He commented, raising a brow as her expression switched to that of irritation. He shrugged. "You don't know what I do for sleep half the time anyway when you're not with me, or even beforehand. Who's to say I don't sleep on the floor when I really want to?"

"And you say a cot destroys you..." she mumbled flatly, crossing her arms. He rolled his eyes.

"You're taking the one from upstairs." He repeated firmly. "That's the only choice I'll take in this, and you're gonna accept it. I already told you, you get to pick everything else and I won't say shit."

"Yes, but-"

"Uh-uh. No. No 'but's." He crossed his own arms. "You want comfort or no?"

She was quiet, though let out a huff.

"... Yes..." she mumbled. He nodded.

"My point." He replied. He watched her mood falter almost immediately, her gaze falling to the floor. But he calmed down quickly, suddenly sighing and slowly holding out an arm. "... c'mere."

His voice was quiet, and he suddenly seemed... nervous. But she took a step forward almost instantly despite a clear moment of hesitation, keeping her eye on his movements. She met his arm, feeling his muscles tense slightly before he brought her to his chest in a somewhat tight, one-armed hug. It was still relaxing though, and she set her head on his shoulder. He couldn't help but press his face to the top of her head, giving a slight kiss to her forehead. It was the least he could do to make her feel somewhat better.

"I'm just... trying to make sure you're alright." He managed quietly, yet somewhat awkwardly. She only nodded, taking a breath to ease her own mind. While this was nice, she couldn't help but feel the least bit nervous standing here... He was uncomfortable being so close now, and she knew it.

"Don't try too hard..." she replied in a near whisper, and he froze and frowned.

He opened his mouth to speak, but paused as she let out a sudden, quiet groan. She shifted on her feet as her vision suddenly swirled, her legs going weak for a few moments. The feeling forced her to lean her weight against him, and she felt his grip on her instantly tighten to hold her up. She reached to rub her face with a whine, and he shifted her in front of him to hold her completely.

"Emmy...??"

His tone switched to complete concern now, and he held her other arm in a careful grip to keep her steady.

"I... I'm fine..." she managed. "Just another dizzy spell..."

He kept his eyes on her as she tried to stand straight once more without his help, but he kept his hold on her as her knees wobbled under her. He looked to the door for a moment before finally giving a huff.

"... Hold on." He said simply, earning a confused glance before he suddenly leaned down.

She let out a surprised yelp as his arm swiped under her legs, making her knees fully buckle and carefully hoisting her up to carry and cradle her against his chest. One of her arms went around his shoulders instantly while the other surrounded her stomach protectively, and she was quiet for a moment.

"... What are you-"

"You're laying down." He demanded quietly, starting to walk out of the room with her against him tightly. "I'll get you something to eat, too. You're laying down in one of my workshops until I get the bed from upstairs, then you're staying down here and not moving."

"Karl-"

"Don't you dare argue, Emelia..." he glanced at her as he walked, a very obvious flash of worry in his face that startled her. "These 'dizzy spells' of yours are getting worse and you're not even that far along. It's only a matter of time before it catches up to you and knocks you flat on your ass." He looked forward once more. "And what if you pass out while working like you so desperately want to, hm?"

She stared at him for a moment before letting her gaze fall, frowning. She said nothing else, her head simply falling to the side against his shoulder. Had she not have been so excited about the idea of having a child, she would have been miserable for this, alone... She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. She KNEW he was right. It HAD gotten worse, and she could only assume it was the mixture of pregnancy and the Cadou... They were two conflicting organisms in her body, seemingly fighting as if both wanted to possess the energy she kept losing to grow.

Emelia clung to him as he made his way through the halls, finally pushing his way into one of the many workshop rooms off to the side. He closed the door before walking to a small cot in the corner she would use occasionally, carefully setting her down on it. Even he said they were bad, but it would have to do for now. He just had to make his work quick to get her out of here as soon as possible.

She kept her hold on him until she was completely down, pulling her arms away as he patted them.

"... I still want to help..." she nearly whispered, settling against the small pillows kept on the cot. He paused for a moment.

"... I did say 'small' things." He replied quietly, leaning back up. "Let me finish what I have to, alright? I'll come back when it's all done, and I'll figure it out from there. You know I keep my word."

She looked up at him for a moment before sighing.

"I know..." she mumbled, finally laying back. "... Be careful, I guess..."

"I always am, Doll." He replied, moving to walk to the door. "It'll be done soon."

She didn't say another word, instead watching as he left the room and shut the door behind him as quietly as he could with the mechanics.

Her thoughts ran as she was left in relative silence, her hand drifting over her stomach once more. It was more of a way to calm herself at this point, feeling the small firmness as she pressed against it lightly. It would be worth it... She hoped to everything that it would be worth it. That it would all be alright, and that the room would help. But how long would she be in there? Would she be able to wander out? Would he LET her? Would he even bother to check up on her once she was settled? He was growing slightly more distant as the short amount of time went on, she noticed, and while it didn't exactly worry her, it didn't really make her feel much better either.

She sighed, shifting to lay on her side. Well, she may as well take a nap while she was here... It wasn't like she could do much else.

Her eye stayed on the door as she managed to relax herself. The muffled sound of running machinery, albeit constant, was usually enough to lull her to sleep... And so she let it do exactly that, closing her eye as her breaths evened out.

It would all work out. This time would pass, and it would all be alright. She would be fine...

She had to be.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

[hoshiwhxre]

I’ll Look After You. (kjk)

Kim Junkyu : I’ll Look After You

description : junkyu becomes worried for you when he witnesses one of your dad’s angry outbursts and offers you a place to stay for a while at his - soon you both recognise and give in to your fast developing feelings for each other and things quickly become...hot.

typ : smut / bit of fluff

pairing : softdom!junkyu x female!reader

rated : NSFW

warnings : praise!kink , slight size!kink , unprotected sex , smut smut smut smut

word count : 3.5k

    "Y/N, would you get the door? I'm busy," your father's abrupt yell brought your fingers straight to your headphones, tearing them off with a sigh. You rose to your feet and with a rushed stumble padded down the stairs towards your front door. Upon a second knock, you twisted the key to tug the heavy plastic open - revealing a tall young man stood patiently before you.

    "Junkyu?" you blinked, slight surprise in your tone.

He laughed, rubbing his neck with a shy grin.

    "Sorry to be annoying, but I left my phone here earlier."

    "Oh? Come on in, I'll see if I can find it," you offered him a polite smile as you stepped to the side, allowing him through, "wait here, do you remember where you left it?"

    "The living room," Junkyu pushed his hands into his pockets, his eyes flickering down to hover momentarily over your material shorts. Mouth dry, he swallowed, watching you move away with a nod, leaving him to stand alone in the small hallway. For a few minutes he gazed around at the picture cladded walls, dragging his gaze over your smiling face from a baby up until now. His lips twitched, one particular picture of your friends huddled together catching his attention. He could practically hear the screaming laughter, remembering how you'd pushed each other into the pool, how you'd warmed up around a fire pit, how you'd all cuddled together long into the night. It was the first and only time you two had been so intimate, just the two of you, sharing a blanket and dozing beside each other while your friends spoke softly between themselves. Out of the group, you'd never been that close - there were so many of you, after all.

    His thoughts were interrupted by the angry yell of an older man's voice, forcing Junkyu's body to jump in shock. Head shooting up, he stared at the slightly ajar living room door, flinching with every frustrated grunt of what could only be your father. You emerged a few moments later looking drained and weary, but holding out Junkyu's phone in your hand.

    "Sorry about that," you said quietly.

Brow furrowing, Junkyu shook his head.

    "It's fine---"

    "I'm so fucking sick of this," again, your father's shout made Junkyu's limbs tense, and his teeth sank anxiously into his lower lip.

    "What's happened? Is it because I'm here?" Junkyu asked, carefully.

    "No, no," you sighed, "he's just like that. Nothing new."

You spoke quietly, as if desperately trying not to be heard, and it left Junkyu with a worried, messy feeling.

    "It doesn't bother you?" he murmured.

Glancing up, you met his eyes, hovering over his soft gaze for a few seconds before forcing a small smile.

    "You get used to it," you paused, "I'll see you tomorrow? At Mia's?"

Junkyu's head inclined slightly, his response dithering as his mind twisted with nerves. He didn't like the idea of you being on your own like this.

    "Will you be okay?" his voice was low, "he doesn't...hurt you...does me?"

    "Junkyu, please, it's nothing," you insisted, weakly.

    "It doesn't seem like nothing," he spoke sharply, "tell me, y/n, he doesn't does he?"

Taking a deep breath, you allowed yourself to internalise his concerned features, his taller figure standing protectively close. You didn't realise he cared so much.

    "Not any more," you said softly.

Junkyu's muscles twitched, his fingers tapping impatiently against his thighs.

    "Where's your mum?"

    "Away with my brother."

    "I'm not letting you stay here alone, y/n."

    "You're making a big deal out of nothing---"

    "If he hurts you, and I didn't do anything to stop it, I couldn't live with myself. Look, I'll call Mia---"

You suddenly snatched up his wrist, holding it close to prevent him from reaching towards his back pocket.

    "No," you said quickly, "she'll tell her parents and make it into something it's not - this just happens every now and then, he gets frustrated, he's coming down from a high..." breaking off, you avoided his eyes.

    "Drugs?" he choked, "you can't seriously think I'm letting you stay here."

    "Letting me?" your eyebrow cocked, "you're not letting me do anything, I don't belong to you."

You attempted to release his wrist, but instead his fingers curled through yours, holding onto them tightly.

    "If you won't tell Mia, or the others, then stay at mine. Even if it's just for a few nights until he calms down, it's better than you having to deal with this atmosphere."

Your cheeks went warm, heart stammering in shocked response to his kindness. The way he gazed at you so intently made your stomach twist with butterflies, completely overwhelmed by his insistence to keep you safe.

    "Junkyu..."

    "Please," tone softening, he squeezed your hand, "if not for yourself, then for me - to put my mind at ease."

Chewing your lip, you could feel yourself drawing closer to him, suddenly wanting nothing else but his arms around you. You didn't think before you were slowly nodding your head, fingertips sinking into the back of his hand. He was right - it would be better than living in that atmosphere. Used to it or not, it was getting to you more and more every day.

    "Let me just go get some things," you whispered.

----

    Junkyu threw his set of keys into a pot positioned to the right of his front door, nodding towards the living room and then gesturing to the house.

    "It's just me and you for a while," he said, "my parents are in America."

Looking around, you took in the attractive decor, getting used to the new surroundings. After 2 years of knowing each other, you'd never once been to his home.

    "It's nice," you breathed, "it's got this feel about it, kind of..."

    "Calming?" Junkyu finished for you.

Your eyes met, his grin sending shivers down your spine.

    "Calming," you repeated with a murmur, "like you."

He laughed, approaching the living room and falling down into the heavily pillowed sofa. Following suit, you lowered down beside him, bowing your head in sudden silence.

    "Thank you," you said quietly, "it's nice to be out of there."

Junkyu gazed at you, before scooching close to lightly nudge your arm. Even sat down, his figure was taller than yours, and it allowed for you to feel comforted in his presence.

    "Why didn't you tell any of us?" he asked, gently, "we care about you."

With a quiet, sad laugh, your head turned towards him.

    "What am I supposed to say? The stress I struggle with every day is worsened by my dad's rollercoaster emotions? He smokes weed so often his paranoia sends him into fits of anger, screaming accusations fueled by absolutely insane thought patterns? I'm constantly on edge, unsure how he'll behave today - the outbursts make me feel anxious, and they make me depressed but there's nothing I can do to..." you broke off, your voice gradually increasing in pitch until it finally cracked with a breathless gasp.

    As soon as the tears filled your eyes, your throat closing far enough to make your words strained and quiet, Junkyu wrapped an arm around your shaking shoulders. He tugged you close, guiding your head against your chest before meeting his hands behind your back. Murmuring gentle soothings down your ear, he rose one hand to begin running his fingers comfortingly through your hair. For a few moments they remained in that embrace, your tears soaking his t-shirt, your grasp tight around the white material, before Junkyu began to slowly lower both of you down against the sofa. He tugged his legs up, resting your body between them so he could wind his arms further around your waist. While your cheek pressed into the crook of his neck, he ran his fingers in delicate circles along the small of your back, and within moments your breath was steadying and limbs were relaxing into him.

    "Stay here for a bit," Junkyu breathed, "it's okay."

    "I'm sorry," you whispered, "for this. It's so embarrassing I---"

    "Don't be stupid," he nuzzled his cheek into your soft hair, "we're friends, aren't we?"

Slowly, you head tilted up, gazing up into his dark eyes.

    "We've never been that close," you murmured, aware of his firm hands resting against your lower back, confused by the butterflies it was sending through your body.

With a gentle smile, Junkyu reached up to brush the remininsce of tears from your cheeks. He bowed his head slightly, your lips hovering close - and he swallowed.

    "We can be close now," he purred, the sensation of your warm breath tickling his skin and keeping his body tensed. For a few moments you held each other's gaze, only centimetres away from deepening the intimate moment. A flustered rush overcame his body, and Junkyu swallowed, "do you want to do something? To take your mind off it?"

Your palms against his chest, you nodded, allowing both yourself and him to rise. As he slipped from the sofa, you felt a wave of emptiness rush through your veins.

    "You like dancing, right? I know you and Doyoung spend a lot of time together," Junkyu spoke, turning on the TV screen, "want to play Just Dance? I bet I'll beat you."

You laughed, drawing a rose brow from the other boy.

    "What?" he faked indignance, "you don't believe me?"

    "Whatever you say," you smiled, eyes suddenly sparkling, "but I have a little brother who's obsessed with this game, I'm telling you right now I've had more practice than you."

Throwing a remote to you, Junkyu motioned for you to step out onto the floor.

    "It's cute how confident you are," he drawled, "but I'm better than you."

His cockiness was sending waves of weakness through your body, and you could feel your heart stammering each time your eyes met.

    "Game on."

For the next 20 minutes your laughter echoed loud throughout the house, squeals and shouts merging with teasing remarks. Your breath was heavy and sweat dripped from your foreheads, snatching at each other's arms to tug them to match the positions of the on-screen dancers.

    "I need a drink," you panted, pushing hair from your face. With a grin, Junkyu nodded, breathlessly leading you into his kitchen. He filled up two glasses of water, passing one into your smaller hand and gulping down his own drink.

    "I'm winning," you teased, laughing, "I told you."

    "We've still got round 2 yet," Junkyu winked, "don't get too cocky."

You reached out, plucking at his shirt lightly.

    "Let's get back to it, then."

As if entranced by you, Junkyu's head lowered, allowing you to guide him slowly back to the living room. The song that flooded the room next was a warm up, slow-paced and sensual, allowing Junkyu's eyes to study your careful body. Copying the moves, your hands clasped, pulling close to press your chests together. For a few seconds you remained still, heart pumping, your gaze on his lips, his eyes on your neck - before coming to the embarrassed realisation that the song had finished. The next dances were a lot faster, drawing more laughter and playful giggles from your throats. It wasn't long before you both collapsed weakly down onto the sofa, again panting breathlessly. You'd fallen close to each other, pressed together as you caught your breath before turning your heads with a smile. Breath heavy on the other's face, your noses were so close to touching.

    "Okay, I admit," Junkyu murmured, "you're better than me."

You gazed up at him through long lashes, releasing a tired giggle at your success.

    "I told you."

Within seconds, Junkyu's expression had grown serious, stopping your fast beating heart in an instant. You could feel his fingers twitch against yours, his eyes flickering to your lips.

    "I know one thing I can do better than you," he whispered.

And suddenly his hand was shooting up, taking your jawline in his palm with a thumb pressed to your cheek and fingers curling around the back of your neck. In one smooth movement he pressed his lips to yours, lids fluttering shut to taste the delicate cherry dawning your tongue. Without hesitation you pushed into the kiss with just as much passion, your tongue slipping between his lips as your fingers curled around his arm. As the seconds passed, both yours and his hands began to wander, Junkyu pushing you back to the leather so his firm palms could guide your thighs against his waist. Your body was growing hot, his tall, broad figure dominating you so easily you gave in to him without resistance. Slowly, his lips dropped to press open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin of your neck, every now and then sinking his teeth in deep to leave dark marks in his place. A soft whimper fluttered from your mouth, fingers entwining through his hair as you felt a hot pool begin to grow at you core.

    "You're so beautiful," he mumbled, his mouth reaching the low hem of your t-shirt. As his hands strayed to the thin material, he glanced up, asking silent permission to take it off. Upon your nod, your desperate "y-yes", he slowly tugged the t-shirt over your head, throwing it to the floor. With surprising ease he unclipped your bra next, allowing it to join your top before attaching his lips once again to your skin. His tongue swirled in a light circle against your breast, teeth leaving another dark purple mark. Head rolling back, you watched through hooded eyes as one hand squeezed your left breast, while his mouth remained concentrated on the right. Once he finally sat up, his tongue sliding across his lip as he gazed down at you lay helpless beneath him, he smiled - a small, slight smile that erupted your chest in excited butterflies. Chest heaving, you watched him pull of his shirt, dropping it to the floor before lowering himself to mould his lips once more against yours. While you kissed, his large hands strayed to your shorts, fingers curling beneath the hem to guide them slowly down your legs. You kicked them off, carefully, before your back arched with a high moan in response to his middle finger dragging lightly against your soaked panties.

    "You're already so wet," he murmured in your ear, "for me?"

Your nod made his eyes roll up in pleasure, beginning to tease your clit through the lace in a desperate attempt to drawn more moans from your lips. Becoming slightly impatient, he dragged your panties past your hips to your ankles - again urging you to kick them to the floor. You obliged immediately, desperate for him to go further. Reaching up to cup his cheeks in your palms, you willed him to go on - just as you felt him unzip his jeans, fumbling with the denim. Lips pressing together, he reached down to guide his tip to your entrance. Slowly, steadily, he pushed a few inches in, stilling for a moment to allow you to adjust to his size. You hummed against his mouth, a soft gasp creating smooth vibrations, not expecting him to be that hard or that thick. Pushing all the way in, causing you to catch your breath as you felt his cock seem to press against your guts, Junkyu stilled once again. As you pressed your lips harder against his, your palms against the back of his neck, he drove his hips into you with one slow, hard movement. He continued with that pace, enjoying the taste of your tongue against his, his hips offering you deep, steady thrusts. Your bodies pushed and pulled against the leather, already so sensitive your lips were growing weaker and messier against each other.

    "You're doing so well," Junkyu praised, softly.

His words made your body shiver with pleasure, nodding with a light whimper to your praise. Recognising your enjoyment to his words, he continued with low, gentle phrases of praise, "you're such a good girl", "you're taking it so well", "you're doing great, princess", "so pretty, seeing you so weak for me", "I'm so proud of you, angel".

    Soon, his words, mixed with his deep thrusts, were making your core knot up completely. You were becoming desperate, your breath catching, and your nails sinking into his hair until he could feel you tighten around his cock.

    "Are you going to cum for me?" he mumbled against your lips, "let me hear you say it, baby."

    "I-I'm going to cum," you whimpered.

    "Say my name," his dark eyes met yours, "say my name while I make you cum."

His soft demands were making you come undone, finding yourself putty in his hands. Your moans were loud, unable to stop your eyes from closing in ecstasy.

    "Look at me," he breathed.

You obliged, and almost immediately your limbs tensed against him, your body shaking as you came undone - a rush of pleasure shooting through your veins. Collapsing back, breathless, you gazed into his satisfied smirk, before reaching up to begin weakly peppering light kisses against his jaw, trailing to his neck, to his ear. Your soft touch against his skin erupted him in goosebumps, swallowing as you began to push at his chest. He rose, back pressing against the sofa, and you rose one leg over his - straddling him delicately. His calm eyes watched as you reached down, sliding your fingers along his hard shaft before beginning to lower yourself - slowly - onto it. Lips twitching, he rested his hands firmly against your waist, guiding you as your teeth sank into your lip with a light gasp.

    "Good girl," he murmured.

Allowing his head to roll back, Junkyu's throat released low grunts as you began to slide up and down his cock carefully. You were still so wet, the warmth almost seemed to make him bigger inside of you.

    "Slowly," he urged, "take it easy, I don't want you to be sore...not just yet."

His words made you whimper, your arms winding around his neck to feather kisses against his ear. Teeth sinking into his lobe, you bounced a little faster, drawing deep moans from his mouth just as he had done to you.

    It wasn't long against before you could feel his cock twitch slightly inside of you, his grip on your waist tightening with every ride. His head turned, pushing his lips to yours to muffle his groans, before his limbs began to abruptly tense. Thighs flexing beneath you, fingers sinking into your skin, his teeth suddenly sank into your lip - drawing enough blood for it to drip once onto his tongue.

    He grunted, one last time, before stilling your body against his chest as he felt himself collapsing undone. Breathless, you fell forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck, while his warm hands began to slide along your back. His pants were heavy against you, quietening himself by lightly kissing shoulder.

    "Are you hungry?" Junkyu mumbled.

Upon your nod, he guided you from his lap and tugged his underpants up to his hips before rising from the sofa. He glanced down at you, smiling slightly at the sight of you lying contently on his sofa - lids closed, cheeks pink.

    Sensing he'd left for the kitchen, you forced yourself up, plucking his t-shirt from the floor and tugging it's large frame over your body. You slipped your panties on and rose to your feet, entire body tingling from the minutes before. Quietly, you began to pad in Junkyu's direction, sneaking up on his taller figure to wind your arms around his waist while he cooked.

    "Eggs?" he breathed, tapping at the pan of boiling noodles. He felt you nod against his back, laughing at your clingy embrace, "come here, sit here..."

Turning, he bent down to haul your body up onto the side next to him, pressing his lips to your cheek before addressing his concentration back on the food.

   "Was it okay?" Junkyu asked, softly.

Tilting your head, you surpressed a smile.

    "More than," you murmured.

    "Really?" Junkyu grinned, eyes sparkling with a renewed cockiness, "how so?"

    "I felt taken care of,” you admitted, blushing at the mere memory.

Glancing up, Junkyu carefully studied your features.

    "I've always thought you were beautiful," he breathed, resting his palms either side of you, slightly leaning in, "especially that night after the pool."

    "I think about that every now and then," you reached up to brush your fingers through his hair, "cuddled up with such a handsome guy, I was surprised you couldn't hear my heart."

    "I can hear it now," Junkyu teased, pulling off to stir the pan, "you think I'm handsome?"

His voice was careful, as if he didn't quite believe you.

    "Of course I do," you murmured.

[minjoonalist]

Predilection | Chapter five

Pairing : Jikook x Reader [Feat. Taehyung]

Words: 1.8k

Genre: Angst, eventual Smut, fluff 

Warnings : explicit wording, characters under the influence, bad judgement, (I will make it clear that the characters in this chapter are definitely of age.)

Description: you want him, he wants you, but he also wants him, and him wants you- but him hurt you. So You hate him.

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Its somewhere around 7:00 am in the morning and amongst all your fellow early classmates waiting to board the trip’s bus, you find yourself spacing in and out of your own head. Your stomach in knots, eyes puffier than usual and although you’ve tried to calm yourself through an entire night of restless tossing and turning - you just couldn't shake the miserable feeling of dread.

“ Y/n...Y/N?!” There's a hand waving in your face catching your attention. Like a trance being broken, your best friend watches worriedly while your eyes seem to snap open in shock. Seeing him, makes the question ring in your head for the hundredth time, the very one you lied to. Whether or not you found your own body betraying your emotions for the boy you hated.

You kissed him back.

Jeon jungkook knew what it felt like to have your lips moving desperately against his in such an intimate fashion. Your lips permanently painted with the feel of his impressionable touch. The event, unfortunately, was still on your mind heavy, your thoughts consumed within the strange dilemma that you’d somehow gotten yourself into and to make it worse- you now truly had no one to really talk about it with.

“Did you...D-Did you sleep at all last night?” Taehyung stumbles in front you and it if it weren't for the devastating guilt running through you, you wouldn't have noticed the very clear and real suitcase coming by his side. Which reminded you of your suitcase...and that you were really going to be stuck with those two for an entire week...

Focusing, You try to swallow in your very dry mouth, your eyes blinking slowly to take on the equally as sleep deprived looking boy. His eyes a bit dark all around, hair disheveled, and there's an alarming aura around him that you couldnt say you were used to.

Was he nervous?

“Me? Tae you look like you want to get hit by a train.” you retort yawning in exhaustion “something Tells me I'm not the only one who didn't dream of pillows and sheep”. Letting your bag down from your shoulder, you wince from your tense muscles screaming in agony and a sigh could be heard from him.

“Excuse you, but I did get some sleep- at least that was before you came panicking at my door.” he denounces while creating an evil glare.

“ we only talked for an hour, don't blame your obvious insomnia for yoongi on me” you spit back and while taehyung was too busy dropping his mouth to the floor, the scarce amount of your classmates had begun to fill in including your professor.

By then, the sun was beginning to rise even further in the sky and by the looks of all the tired faces surrounding you, you could tell it was almost time to depart on the trip - aka hell. Your nerves suddenly getting the better of you, you slowly start to sink further into the troubling mess of your emotions and just as you were beginning to realize how surreal your situation was, your eyes catch a notable figure in the distance.

Silver hair shining within the powerful breeze, as a ringed hand comes up to help keep it at bay. He struts up towards the surrounding crowd of students, catching multiple glances of onlookers, but whether or not he acknowledges them through his square rimmed shades, it remains a mystery. A black leathered luggage by his side, Jimin stops his stride just a few feet away from you and tae, however his focus remains on the phone held within his other hand.

“Oh great! The ballerina's here.” taehyung cheers sarcastically, meanwhile every fiber within your body was stilled from how aware you were of his presence. Okay...so this was still just a bit harder than you’d thought it would be...you think while taking a deep breath. As much as you wanted to pretend you felt absolutely nothing for the male hovering by the both of you, you couldn't deny the quickened pace within your chest when he suddenly snaps his head in your direction.

Your gaze quickly goes elsewhere.

“Tae I don't know if I can do this...” you swallow, a hard lump coming into your throat. You think you’re going to be sick…

“Do what?” Taehyung frowns, A deep crease in his brow from your confession, however it disappears once he puts its together himself. Both of his brows now shooting up towards his hairline “You're not thinking of Failing this course are you? Y/n we’ve talked about this, you're going to be fine. I’ve told you, you can stay the night with me and yoongi if you don't want to be on your own.”.

And just like that, You cast your gaze downwards, a feeling of hopelessness washing over. You suddenly find your feet a bit too interesting “ I- I don't know…I think this might be too much Tae. I know you w-want to be alone with yoongi and I...well I’d pretty much just be cock blocking you. Plus, I just don't know if I can handle being with them the way it is-” you stutter shakily.

Stepping closer, Taehyung pulls you into an abrupt warm hug, bringing you closer until your head was resting comfortably on his firm chest “ Hey, Hey- no matter what, I’ll be glad to have you around anytime. Besides, it’s pretty bold of you to assume I wouldn’t be pounding into min yoongi, because you're in the next room- I couldn’t care less if you watched.” he pulls back to look you in your eyes, a clear look of doting support across his features.

Meanwhile you scrunch your face up in disgust “I think I’d rather hear them before I hear you- at least I won't really be able to visualize their faces.”

Tae stares at you blankly before he lifts a brow “...You’re telling me, you wouldnt want to watch me fuck someone else...me? The unbelievably hot best friend who had you shirtless the first time we met?”

You cringe again “ You seriously have to stop talking about that night...I would like to not remember getting my heart broken and then having even my current best friend reject me.” you move to step away from him and more towards the slowly growing crowd. You never liked talking about the night you met Taehyung, because in all honestly- it was probably the worst night of your life. Unfortunately, it also happened to be the night jimin and jungkook had first debuted as couple and on top of that- you really dont want to venture back into a territory where sex was possible between the both of you.

Getting closer towards the others, you feel taehyung easily catching up with your walking figure. His arm comes naturally around your shoulder like always before he speaks “ Well of course I rejected you, you were completely heartbroken like an adorable sad puppy.”

“Wow this conversation just keeps getting better and better....By the way this is doing wonders for my confidence, just thought you should know.” you mutter sarcastically while trying to shove his arm off of your shoulder. He doesnt move it, instead catching on to the hurt hidden behind your sarcasm. He then uses his arm to stop you, the pressure of it keeping you from walking any further.

He rolls his eyes “Wait, because I don't think you understand. The reason I stopped wasn't because you were just some sad random girl. Well- actually yes it was, but it was also because…” he huffs “ You were also really sweet and innocent, you didnt deserve some asshole who was going to fuck you senseless and then disappear the next day. So I stopped and when you broke down then cried, I held you, remember?” he tries to put on a smile that opposes your bitter pout.

As much as you hated to admit it, Everything he’d just said was true. Taehyung did stop that night and you knew that, because you remembered that night vividly.

The both of you bursting through some random bedroom door for privacy.

Only moments ago you’d just seen your best friend and your crush making out in back the of a graduation party together and when you confronted Jungkook about it, he’d acted as if he had no idea what you were talking about. Angry, you stormed off, tears collecting your eyes and you made your way over towards the snack table to down an entire cup of vodka.

Moments later, A firm hand suddenly sliding it’s way onto your back that makes you turn to look at the culprit. Enters Taehyung. Dark hair, boxy smile, but red sultry eyes drinking in your poor body as he pulls you closer towards him “ You look like you could use some fun, want to go upstairs?” he would breathe slowly into your ear.

You remembered sliding your eyes back towards the raven haired boy that just so happened to be watching you and Taehyung like a hawk from across the room. Your eyes just barely being able to find him through the sea of people, An emotion swirling dangerously behind them.

In a time like this, Jungkook would already be there ready to save you when needed. But with the combination of anger, the vodka, and a growing euphoria of feeling Taehyung’s hands roaming all over your waist, you were certain you wouldn't need it.

Which brings you back towards the private room. Taehyung locks the door behind him, reaching for you to slam his mouth onto yours. The kiss is sloppy, aggressive and you were loving every second of it. His teeth nipping and pulling at your delicate lips before he’s lifting you up into his arms. A soft yelp leaves your mouth and he chuckles arrogantly into the kiss while walking the both of you further in. In a flash, he has you landing on top of the small room’s bed, his own body coming to hover above yours and you relish in the feel of his hips sliding between your legs.

As if a chill comes by, you suddenly shudder under him. The heated make-out warming you up enough to definitely have your panties soaked, but for some reason...you felt cold. Taehyung continues unknown to this, laying wet kisses from your mouth and down towards your neck. His own drunken lust, blinding him from the way your arms were desperately hugging him closer to feel any kind of warmth.

It wasn't until he suddenly sat up from you. His hands reaching for the hem of your shirt to pull it above your head and have you falling down onto your back. He takes a moment to look at your half naked torso, a look of appreciation washing over his eyes as he rakes them further up to stare at you.

He-

Why were there tears in your eyes?

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