#It is dark but also so extremely full of hope and love!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arachine · 1 year

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— ❝on this fateful night...two hearts danced.❞ ˚₊✩‧₊

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x human! reader

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in omaticayan culture, a young na’vi male does not yet become a full fledged adult until he passes one of two rites of passage: 1) choosing an ikran, and 2) carving a bow from the wood of Hometree (and/or choosing a woman). reader is now 20, and the only man she’s ever loved is expected to choose a wife soon. one day when she overhears a rumor concerning neteyam and the first woman in line to betroth him, reader is struck with grief, ultimately venturing off deep into the forest where she knows nobody will follow her—somewhere forbidden. however, unbeknownst to her, a certain someone follows her trail…

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), angst, fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, use of alcohol, inebriation, size kink (kinda), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), male masturbation, overstimulation, riding (no penetration), m/f ejaculation, squirting…i took some things out but i think that’s it?

ᥫ᭡ notes :: what a long week this has been…but we made it! i cannot believe the first thing i post after being on hiatus for months is blue alien sex. anyway, i hope you all enjoy. also, be mindful that the dialogue switches between formal and casual. it’s something that i noticed neteyam and kiri do a lot in the movie. for what reason? idk…but the big font after the read more is intentional bc ik some ppl complain that the small font hurts their eyes :3

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 7.2k

— playlist :: spotify link

“You have been wandering off by yourself a lot lately…”

There goes that attentiveness, you could never put anything past her—Kiri, that is. She was just too good (to a fault), and though her keen eye and emotional intelligence were extremely useful, they were also the most aggravating traits about her.

Now, you could just tell her the truth about the place you’re always wandering off to, and you also could confide in her about the thing that’s been plaguing your mind recently—but you don’t, because you know better.

For a split second, though, you hesitate telling her. The lean girl tilts her head, eyes flitting between your face and the satchel in your hands. Smoothly, you pull the satchel across your body and shift it to rest behind you—out of sight.

Kiri seems to notice your apprehension, and so, she peels her eyes from the bag, offering you her full attention by resuming eye contact once again. If she has even the slightest hunch that you’re hiding something, she doesn’t voice her suspicions.

“Well, I won’t pry, sister. You know that I am always here to listen,” she reassured, reaching out a gentle hand towards your face. You let the tips of her fingers graze your cheek, the warmth of her hand providing transitory comfort.

The two of you exchange sweet smiles before you pull away. It was getting dark, and the longer you stayed here, the harder it’d be to avoid the very thing you were trying to get away from—the very person you were trying to get away from.

“I know, Kiri,” you grabbed her hand, encasing it between your own, “I know…but—I have to go. I promise I’m alright. I’ve just…been doing some thinking, and I think I gotta sort some things out with myself before I can be around the rest of you, you know?”

There’s a silence between the two of you, and you’re not exactly sure if she’s taken offense to what you’ve just said, or if she’s carefully choosing her words. You decide on the latter though, because the last thing you want to do is make her feel as if she’s done something wrong, or if anyone has done something wrong. This was entirely on you; you and your stupid, selfish human heart.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” she replies, squinting her eyes. Again, there’s a silence, but you can tell she still has something to say, like she’s mulling it over. “Will you at least be here tonight? You know, for the big feast? Everyone will be here, even Neteyam,” the girl tsks playfully, shaking her head as she walks circles around you.

Immediately your body stiffens, and she responds to this by teasing you, “Or, I could just save you something…or maybe i’ll ask Neteyam to save you something since he’ll be the most important man tonight.”

“And why would you do that?” the words leave your tongue before you have the chance to process them. It reads rather defensively, but you ignore it. “I mean, why—why ask Neteyam?”

“Because he’s your friend…” kiri pokes you, “because you love him,” she whispers, only this time her voice is a lot more serious, a lot quieter—a whisper. This is when you get that feeling again.

That weird, achy feeling that leaves your stomach in knots and your throat all puffy. The sensation is debilitating—suffocating, and the only way you know how to ease it is by doing what you had set out to do in the first place (though, you were swiftly interrupted).

“Don’t be silly, Kiri,” your smile drops solemnly, “we’re…friends, just friends. Besides, he’s going to be spoken for soon. There are a lot of Na’vi women who would make fine mates…” Your voice decrescendos into the forest night air, the conversation lasting a lot longer than you’d anticipated. To stop your solemn mood from being expressed outwardly, you quickly turn around, looking back once to speak.

“Anyway, I have to go now. I’ll see you later.” Kiri nods and waves bye, her eyes watching as your small frame disappears out of her family’s tent.

A cacophony of voices and music fall on deaf ears as you make your way through the village. The preparation is beginning, but all you can think about is him. Him, him, him.

And ever since you overheard a rumor that Neytiri and Mo’at had chosen the next in line to become tsahik after Neytiri, your heart stopped beating…because you knew. You knew exactly what this meant—the end.

Neteyam was to be a future olo’eyktan, after all. And in Na’vi culture, the future head of the clan and the future spiritual representative were to be betrothed. You knew that, and yet, you couldn’t fathom it. Because then it’d be the end.

The end of your late night rendezvous, the end of your special talks, the end of your banter, and your clandestine glances—your whispers. The ones that were quiet, and innocent…the ones that tingled the shell of your ears. Meant for him and you only.

It was selfish, really. Stupid. You knew the day would come when he’d have to grow up and fulfill his duties as a Na’vi male. Just not this soon though, you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. And if drinking your pain away to preserve those precious memories could do that, then you’d do it.

Lost in your train of thought, you don’t register that you’ve walked yourself right into the heart of a crowd until you bump into a young na’vi child. Apologizing, you then attempt to squeeze through the sea of bodies, tapping lightly on people’s legs until you reach the front. The people were cheering, celebrating the hunters’ return and the game that the Great Mother had graciously given them.

Slowly, hunters had begun pooling in from the forest on direhorseback. Then, they started coming in clusters, all ululating, and pumping their fists in the air while holding their dead game in the other. Your head turned in awe as each hunter rode past you, the energy of the people so contagious that your sour mood was starting to dissipate, even if just a little.

Thinking that was the last of the riders, you begin walking again, but the sound of heavy hooves striking the ground halt your movements. Turning your head back to the trees, you see something moving behind the shrubbery, and then enters none other than the man of the hour: Neteyam. If the people weren’t cheering before, they were definitely cheering now—especially since he’d managed to catch an adult sturmbeest (which was a difficult feat).

The direhorse strides slowly through the crowd, and stops in the centre on Neteyam’s command. Nobody can take their eyes off of him, and neither can you. He just looks so strong, and masculine—like his father, even though he’s the spitting image of his mother. Neteyam puts his hand into the air before he dismounts his horse and ushers the people to settle down, and eventually, they do.

He points to the sturmbeest that his direhorse is carrying back to be prepared. “Tonight, my brothers and sisters…” a pause, “we dance! we sing! we feast!” His words excite the villagers again, uluations so loud that your ears begin to ring. Just as you’re about to turn away, his eyes meet yours—he smiles. And there it is. That achy feeling in your chest.

He wants to say something, reaches his arm out to you as if he were silently telling you to wait up, but then a girl strikes up a conversation with him. At first, you’re not entirely sure who it is—and you shouldn’t even care—but then you do a double take and your heart sinks a little more. It was Tsimandi, the girl rumored to be his betrothed.

From this distance, you can’t hear what they’re talking about, so you watch intently. He’s got his head thrown back in hearty laughter, and she’s touching him—actually touching him, her hands wrapped around his forearm in an attempt to pull him further away.

You think if you stay a second longer you’ll actually become a pile of liquid where you stand, so you take this opportunity to slip away while he’s preoccupied.

When Neteyam looks back, he notices your absence. Squinting, he looks around in search of you, and then he sees what looks like a person disappearing into the thick of the forest. Just what is she doing?

“I apologize, Tsimandi, but I must do something,” he begins backing away, a genuine expression etched onto his face, “I will see you tonight, at the feast!”

“Oh, o-okay,” she mutters but he’s already run off. Neteyam calls for his direhorse and waits at the edge of the forest until it comes running towards him. Before he can mount it and follow you, someone calls out to him.

“And where are you going?” the voice queries, tone laced with suspicion. He recognizes who it belongs to and sighs.

“Nowhere, sir,” he dismounts, meeting his father’s eyes, his mother also accompanying him.

“Yeah, I’d hope so. The people are throwing this feast for you, or have you forgotten?” Jake gives him a once over, eyes still boring into his son.

“No, sir. I have not forgotten,” the boy lowers his gaze in embarrassment.

“Good. Go get ready, knucklehead.”

With each trudge through the forest, you were losing more and more sunlight. You’d walked about halfway to your destination when you remembered the bottle sloshing around in your satchel.

Usually, you waited to drink the liquid there, but you decided given today’s strenuous events, you’d have some now. A reward, you tell yourself. Taking the bottle out of the bag, you lift your mask from your face briefly, twisting open the top and taking a big swig.

No matter how many times you did it, the taste always made you gag. Bourbon—is what they called it. It was equal parts bitter and pungent but it did the trick. Helped you to relax, to forget. The first time you came across it, it was by pure accident.

You’d been somewhere you shouldn’t have been, doing things you shouldn’t have been doing. But one thing led to another, and soon enough, you were inebriated for the first time.

By the time you drink half of your weight in liquor, you reach your destination. The old shack. After what happened with the Sky People, Jake’s first rule as olo’eyktan was to prohibit anyone from entering.

Even being somewhere remotely around the area was forbidden. But you were no stranger to disobedience, you’d come here once with Lo’ak (which was your first time actually).

Though, you didn’t get to explore much because Tuk had spoiled your fun by telling Jake. That day was one of your favorite memories, you think. Jake couldn’t stop yelling at the two of you, but all you could do was laugh. Nothing was really even funny, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing Jake’s eye twitch at your outburst only exacerbated it.

Lo’ak was getting the worst of it, and Neteyam fell victim to Jake’s nagging too for not ‘being there’. After a while, he’d dismissed the bunch of you from his tent and as soon as you were out of earshot, the three of you went into a frenzy of laughter. You think back fondly on those memories, all the ones that include Neteyam, that is.

“God, there isn’t a second when I’m not thinking of you…” you sigh in exhaustion, extending an arm out to open the shack’s door. Reaching in your satchel, you pull out two jars full of glow worms (you’ve found that two jars are enough to light up the shack). Ambling over to your favorite spot, you open a cabinet and reach for another bottle of that bitter liquid you willingly put into your body.

It’s still a wonder to you how well preserved these bottles remained over the years, and you’re pretty sure you’ve heard Norm or someone mention that the older the liquor, the better it tastes (which was a lie, but alas, you down another shot).

“Wooo,” a cough erupts from your throat, “yep, still nasty.”

At this point, the liquor is starting to take effect. Warmth radiates throughout your entire body, and you can feel your limbs gradually getting heavier. Being drunk had to be one of your top three favorite feelings.

It either made you: sad, tired, or giggly (maybe even all at once). But now? Now you were feeling sleepy, so you groggily trudge over to one of the beds in the shack.

As soon as your body hits the plush, a cloud of dust filters through the air. It was incredibly disgusting, but you’d slept in worse places. For now, you would lay here…succumbing to a sweet slumber.

Neteyam had gone home without fuss as promised. Go and get ready. Well, he was doing exactly that now, exchanging his previous attire for that of something more formal. He rolled his eyes and huffed. Sometimes his father could just be a…

“Son of a bitch,” the boy snapped, his frustration reaching its peak. He’d been standing in the tent for about 10 minutes trying to figure out this headpiece his mother had laid out for him, but could not for the life of him figure it out.

Giving up, he throws it to the ground and takes a seat with his head in his hands. Kiri slips in shortly after his outburst, bending to the ground to retrieve the item. Hesitantly, she walks over to her brother.

“If you needed some help, you could have called, brother.” Neteyam lifts his head up from his hands to see Kiri towering over him, his eyes breaking contact with hers as she sits down next to him. There’s a pregnant pause, but it doesn’t last for long because Kiri is already opening her mouth to speak.

“What is troubling you?” She asks, forcing Neteyam to turn his back to her so that she can place the headpiece onto him properly. He inhales deeply, then exhales.

“I do not know…I saw (your name) earlier and…” Kiri hums, encouraging him to continue, “and—she had this strange look on her face.”

“Look? What do you mean? Was she angry? Sad?”

“I have never seen it before, sister. She usually looks happy when she sees me…but this look was different,” his voice is almost inaudible when he finishes. Kiri ponders for a bit, tilting her head as if she were mentally putting the puzzle pieces together.

“How come you did not speak to her?” Kiri makes her final adjustments to the headpiece, ushering Neteyam to meet her eyes.

“I was going to…I tried to, but Tsimandi found me before I could,” he fiddles with his fingers. Kiri takes note of his disposition, and she frowns empathetically. Clearly, whatever was going on with you two was something you had to work out together. This wasn’t like either of you!

“But it was not just today either,” he continues, “she has been distancing herself for awhile, have you noticed?” She laughs at this, nodding her head.

“Yes, she has been acting a little strange lately. I think I might know what is troubling her, brother,” the girl takes his hand into her own. “But I cannot tell you. This is something that concerns only she and you…”

Neteyam squints his eyes in confusion, muttering a ‘what’. His mouth opens to speak but he is swiftly interrupted upon Jake and Neytiri’s arrival. He looks to Kiri for some clarification but all she says is: ‘go, go, you have a feast to attend’, followed with a, ‘find her later’.

“Well? Come on, the people won’t wait for your blue ass all day will they?” Jake teases. Neytiri slaps his arm, scolding him playfully.

“Ah, my son, my beautiful son,” she pads to where he stands, taking his face into her hands. “It is time to go, we must celebrate you.”

Jake nods, flashing a quick wink of approval. Together, they all walk out of the tent and through the village where they’re instantly greeted with colorful luminescence, loud music, and food. All things that have been so generously prepared for him. By the time they make it down to the Tree of Souls, everyone halts their cheering to hear what Jake has to say.

“Tonight we eat,” a pause, “in honor of Neteyam’s mighty victory!” Jake grabs his eldest son’s hand, raising it in the air. “He led his first attack against the Sky People and made it back without any casualties!” A sudden roar of praise erupts from the crowd.

Everyone is chanting his name, and clapping, but even amidst all this praise, he can’t help but to think about you. What does all of this matter if you’re not here to celebrate with him?

You’ve been by his side since the two of you could walk, so where are you now? The thought saddens him, but he can’t wear his heart on his sleeve tonight. Not when there’s so many people here just for him.

“For the past 20 years, my son has always been just a boy to me. But now I realize…he is a man—and he has proven himself in front of the eyes of Eywa,” The former marine glances down at his son, eyeing him in admiration. “Enough talking, let us feast!”

Laughter and songs fill the warm, breezy nighttime air. It’s been about two hours since the celebration commenced, and Neteyam has just about made his rounds to every important family.

He smiles warmly as he looks at the scene in front of him: children playing and dancing by the fireside, putting on elaborate performances for the adults still filling their bellies full of food. Everyone is lively—happy, a testament to tonight’s success.

Mo’at is pleased by this especially, she tells him that ‘this is what the people needed’—you know, to boost morale. At some point, when nobody is watching, he slips away from the party to walk around. Unbeknownst to him, someone has seen him.

“Getting tired?” a voice questions from the shadows. Out comes Kiri, revealing herself from behind a leaf.

“Yes, exhausted actually,” he jokes, disconnecting his braid from his direhorse. “No, but I need to find (your name). She has not come back and it is dark.”

“I figured you would leave early, that’s why I covered your ass and told Dad you were not feeling well,” the feline-like girl smirks.

“Do you have an idea where she might be?”

Kiri takes a moment before answering, “I’m not sure…but for some reason, I have a hunch that she’s at the old shack,” Neteyam furrows his brows in confusion.

“Why do you think she’s there?” he queries, “I mean, it is forbidden.” Kiri offers him a shrug.

“I don’t know but if you’re going to find her, do it now while dad still thinks you’re not feeling well.”

With that, he thanks her for the intel and mounts his horse, disappearing into the thick of the forest. On the way there, his mind conjures up just about every possible scenario that might explain your absence.

Were you upset with him? Did he do something or say something that you didn’t like? He wishes he could just read your thoughts because right now, his heart is pounding so rapidly within the confines of his chest, that he thinks it’ll explode.

This wasn’t like you two, everything was always so easygoing. Being with you was easy, like breathing. But this? His heart couldn’t handle this. Yeah, there’s been some distance between the two of you recently but not due to his own volition—it was duty. If he could spend every second of his life by your side, just being kids, laughing with you, playing with you, he would.

He’s trying to recount these last few days, weeks—months. Trying to pinpoint when exactly things got like this between you…pinpoint when you stopped smiling at him with that smile that made his head all fuzzy, and his heart race like a kid running for the first time.

“Ah, everything’s going to shit, buddy,” he sighs, rubbing the side of his horse, “I don’t know what is wrong.” His mammalian companion grunts empathetically, stopping in its tracks at the edge of the forest when it sees the abandoned link shack. Neteyam doesn’t bother scolding her, because even the animals know that this place is forbidden.

“Alright, I will see you later, okay? Stay here,” he pats her, disconnecting the bond. From this distance, he can see that there seems to be some sort of light illuminating from inside the shack.

That alone already confirms Kiri’s hunch. The closer he gets, the more his stomach feels uneasy. He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous, but he attempts to ease his mind (and body) by telling himself that it’s only you. He’s talked to you one on one hundreds of times, so what’s the difference now?

Noises in the distance rouse you from your ephemeral repose. When you stand up, your head spins with the room, causing you to instinctively reach out for the nearest surface available. Whatever was outside had better be non-threatening, because you were not in the condition to be fighting—let alone standing. When you were drunk like this, you couldn’t even hurt a fly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have the worst headache soon,” you huff quietly, still aware that there might be someone or something outside. The noise is getting closer, and you’re running out of time to find a hiding spot.

Quickly, you grab the closest thing you can to defend yourself (which is literally a jar of glow worms), and crouch down below the window. When you lift your head just enough to see outside, the makings of a silhouette cloud your vision.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper-yell, tightening your hold on the jar. Lifting your head up again, you notice that the figure is not in the spot it was previously. Then, the knob to the shack twists, and now it’s opening, and—

“(Your name)?”

You pause your attack, slowly dropping your hand (that’s holding the jar) to your side. A flood of relief washes over you once you register who the voice belongs to. Rising from the ground, you open the door fully to see Neteyam standing in the doorway.

“I almost killed you, you know!” you raise the jar, pulling him inside of the shack.

“I think it would take more than a jar of worms to kill me,” he teases. Rolling your eyes, you continue ushering him further inside, leading him to an area where you can sit and talk.

“What…what are you doing here?” you finally ask, folding your arms across your chest. Neteyam towers over you from this height, so he accommodates you by dropping to his haunches.

“I was worried about you,” the boy confesses, “what are you doing here? Why were you not at the feast?” Suddenly, you don’t really feel like talking anymore. Even though the adrenaline from before was still pumping through your veins, so was the alcohol in your system. You’re not so sure you’d be able to keep your composure long enough to answer without exposing your truest feelings. So, you decide on deflecting.

“Aren’t you the man of the hour? I think you should go back to the party before daddy throws a fit. We both know how he gets when his perfect little son isn’t at his every beck and call…” As soon as the words spill from your tongue, you wince. It came out meaner than you meant, and the last thing you wanted was to give him shit for being a caring friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean that,” you apologize, sitting down on the bed. All he does is sigh, but he takes this opportunity to enter your space, gets all close until his body is nestled between your legs.

“I know…I know, but I want you to tell me what’s wrong, hm?” his fingers lift your chin, “so I can fix it.”

“Can’t fix this, ‘Teyam,” a saltine droplet ribbons down your face. Your head is tilted up with his fingers, but you can’t even force yourself to meet his gaze. God, how pathetic did you look right now?

Here you were, inside an abandoned shack, drinking your body weight in liquor…all while a celebration was being thrown in your best friend’s honor. And for what? Because you were jealous? Because you liked him—loved him?

You knew that eventually your relationship would shift. That he’d take on his duties as the future olo’eyktan, and you’d just be his human friend he hangs with from time to time. How stupid could you be to think things would stay like this forever?

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothes, both hands now cupping your cheeks, “don’t do that. Do not shut me out. We’re not like this, (your name), you used to always talk to me about things.”

Things. You’d talk about things. But those things were not like these things. And if he knew what things you were thinking about, the things that involved him…then you two would never talk about things again.

You’re curious, though. What if you just told him? Just told him about all the days you’ve loved him, all the nights you’ve stayed up thinking of him—all the stars you counted wishing for him? At least then, the burden of keeping such a secret would stop weighing so heavy on your heart.

“I..” a breath, “I heard a rumor.” The boy hums, encouraging you to continue. “I heard your mother has chosen her successor.”

“Is that what this is about? Why does this bother you?”

“Because you know what this means! We both know what this means, don’t be dense, ’Teyam,” you droop your head in sorrow, coaxing him to just lift it back up. Only this time, his hold on your face is a lot firmer. His eyes are fiercer.

“No. I don’t, so just tell me.”

“You’re gonna be the future olo’eyktan, and we both know that the future clan leader and the chosen tsahik are to be betrothed,” you start, “there will be no time for me! No more late night talks, no more exploring, no more secret whispers…I mean, I get it, you have duties to fulfill but…I wanna be selfish a little longer. Can’t I be selfish a little longer?”

You say the last line while meeting his gaze. You’re teary eyed and shaking, but you try your best to keep any semblance of composure you have left intact (though, it’s failing). His expression is indiscernible.

It makes you nervous. Sick. And now you’re forcing yourself not to throw up because…the realization that you just told someone your deepest, truest, most vulnerable feelings makes you physically ill.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. Forget what I jus—“

“Are you serious? You don’t get it do you?” Neteyam’s head falls forward, a little chuckle slipping past his lips. His hands leave your head and slither down to your hands. He takes them into his own, eyeing you while kissing the knuckles of each.

The act is incredibly intimate, sends white-hot electricity down the column of your spine. Renders you speechless. All you can do is sit there, too scared that if you move or speak, you’ll shatter into a million little pieces.

“I have duties, yes…but my heart is already spoken for. Always has been.”

“What are you saying, ’Teyam,” your head snuggles into the warmth of his hand. You know exactly what he’s saying, but you want to hear him say—

“I see you,” he whispers in your ear, “you are my most beloved.” The warmth of his breath tingles the shell of your ear, it takes the strength of a thousand men to not scream.

But in this moment? In this moment you want to kiss him. You want to kiss him silly, actually, but you quickly remember the thing on your face preventing your lips from connecting with his. There are truly evil forces conspiring against you.

“I want to kiss you,” you admit solemnly.

“Oh, you don’t know how many nights I’ve spent dreaming about kissing you. Too many,” he jokes, “but I’m afraid if we remove this, you’ll die.”

“Then you don’t have to kiss my lips,” a silence, “you can kiss me anywhere you’d like. Anywhere.”

His green eyes flitter between your face and your body, and then his hands are on you, forcing you to lay back against the bed. You lift your head up and lean back onto your elbows, watching through lust-filled eyes as he begins his ministrations.

He starts from the bottom, works his way up real slowly—too slowly. He’s showing restraint, and while you appreciate the fact that he’s worshiping your body like a devoted follower worships their deity, you want him to ravage you. To eat you up until there’s nothing left but bones.

“’Teyam, please…” you breathe out impatiently. Like the cocky-brat he is, he ignores your pleas, only laughing into your skin.

“Shh, be calm.” The plush of his lips trail up the plains and pastures of your body, up your calves, your thighs (he spends the most time there), and then comes to a stop at the crest of your breasts. His fingers fiddle with the cloth covering your chest, lightly tracing the edges that rest just beneath your mounds.

A tease is what he is. And you didn’t have the time for a tease, so you figured you’d help speed up the process by removing it. Sitting up, you untie the makeshift top and let it fall to your lap, smirking deviously as if you’ve done something so naughty.

“Thought I’d help you,” you grin, wrapping your hands around his neck, “Please, no more going slow…I think we’ve been going slow for twenty years, don’t you think?”

And he gets the hint, once again resuming his assault on your body, but this time with more fervor. More urgency. He’s kissing you everywhere, licking wet stripes over your chest, and leaving love bites in the places where he’s kissed you. Right now he’s acting on his most basic, primal instincts—he’s claiming you as his mate—in the only way he knows how to.

The feeling of his hands on your neck, back, thighs and waist send you into oblivion. But then his hands are creeping up to your tits, deft fingers twisting and kneading, and oh god, you’re seeing stars. The addition of his mouth doesn’t help either.

“You’re so,” a kiss, “beautiful,” a suck, “perfect.” Neteyam kneads one breast while his mouth works on another. He plops down onto a pert nipple, using his tongue to draw circles around the area, his saliva acting as a salve.

A moan (that comes out more like a disgruntled sigh) vacates your throat, and his eyes widen in excitement. The sight of his tail swaying in the background makes you giggle. Cute, you think.

Even though what the two of you were doing wasn’t innocent, you couldn’t help but to feel all giddy. Reaching a hand out, you place a gentle palm on the side of his face.

You trace the contours of his nose, his cheekbones, smooth over his jaw, and then stop at his lips. Your thumb grazes them, first the top, then the bottom—learning. Committing them to memory, how they look, feel, and move under your thumb.

Neteyam is unmoving while you continue to run your finger across his lips—save for his hand, which slowly begins traveling south to your thighs. Experimentally, you push your thumb inside of his mouth, pressing the digit down on his tongue before tracing his cat-like canines. This moment is particularly special, because now it’s you who’s doing the admiring.

The free hand that’s not inching towards your core, skillfully removes the loin cloth around your hips. Immediately, he’s met with your bare sex. It’s smooth—wet, so incredibly wet that it has his cock twitching, and his hands eager to touch you. He wants to taste you. Feel you, all of you.

“I—,” a slender finger rubs your slit, “mmf, see you,” you mewl, cupping his cheek. Neteyam’s eyes widen, he wants to hear you make that sound again…and again, and again, and—

The boy repeats the action. Watches your abs flex and tremble from the touch, and your thighs close in on his arm. Using the other hand, he gently pulls them apart and leaves three open-mouthed kisses: one on your inner thigh, one on another, and then a final one at the top of your mound. The heat from his nostrils make you full body shiver; suddenly, being the only one completely bare is slightly bothering you.

“Do not cover yourself. I want to see you,” his hand finds your cunt again, a long finger pushing into you ever so slowly, “…want to hear those sweet sounds again.”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you watch his digit push further into you, the drag of a knuckle against your slick walls aiding in the pleasure. You can’t help but to wince at the intrusion, because shit, this was a lot more than what you were used to—using your fingers, that is.

You also suppose penetration would be off the table considering humans and Na’vi were never meant to mate, but it doesn’t prevent you from fantasizing about it anyway. How big was it? Did he touch himself? Use his hands and picture yours?

The thought of him hunching over, rubbing one out, all slick with sweat and pre has your head all dizzy. Your mouth is practically salivating at the mental image you’ve conjured up in your head of him fucking your face, but you know it would never fit. There really are evil forces conspiring against you…

Neteyam’s finger reaching the hilt brings you back down to reality. A forceful thrust that coaxes you to gasp sharply and grab his forearm. After patiently waiting for you to adjust to his size, he begins to move. He sets a steady rhythm, pulling out slowly, then pushing back into you with the same velocity.

Eventually, his movements become less hesitated, and more calculated. Instead of steady and slow, he begins increasing the pace of his thrusts, then graduates from speed to incorporating force.

Every delve of his finger, every deliberate drag and prod has fire pooling in the depths of your belly. Squelches and whimpers ricochet off of the metal walls, and fuck, his dick won’t stop twitching.

It’s grown considerably harder in these past few minutes, and all from just hearing you vocalize your pleasure. When the stretch stops feeling like a stretch, and starts feeling like a ‘give me more’, that’s when you encourage him to add another. And of course, he indulges you.

The same time he pushes another finger in, is the same time he starts rubbing himself. He’s not even really aware of it at first, it’s mindless. He’s just so entranced by you, and the sounds you’re making, the things you’re saying, the way your cunt’s sucking in his fingers—

Fuck. He just finished all over himself. He doesn’t let that deter him though, keeps fingering you through his post-orgasm, taking care of you until you come undone on his fingers.

And the sight is amazing, he can’t stop gawking at the way your hole flutters around him, and the nectar-like liquid that drips down the length of his fingers and onto the bed. He wants to taste it.

“Can I taste you?” he asks. You’re in such a daze that the question doesn’t even register, suddenly too preoccupied with breathing like you’ve forgotten how to.

“Huh? Wha—ohhhh.” His tongue licks a long stripe up your slit. He concentrates the tip at the bottom, lapping at the essence that leaks from there, and then circles back to your puffy bud. Experimentally, he prods it with his fingers, rubbing it in tantalizingly slow circles.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers almost feel overwhelming, you feel like a puppet on a marionette with the way he’s maneuvering your legs around for better access. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a starved man.

His mouth is slick with drool, and his hands are pressing down so firmly onto your thighs, that you’re sure a handprint will be there for you to discover in the morning. His tongue feels so good on you, so nasty.

The picture is obscene, unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed before. But the thing that’s really getting to you are the sounds he’s making. Grunts and groans, expletives and mumbles. ‘So good’, ‘perfect’, ‘beautiful’…it has your head spinning and your fists gripping for the sheets beneath you.

There’s a knot in your abdomen pulled taut like a string of twine. You can feel it twisting and pulling, ready to come undone at the drop of a pin. The more he works on your slit, the more the temperature rises in the shack.

Was the room always spinning? Did your body always run this hot? It feels like you’ve been thrown into a furnace, and the only source of coolness is the wetness that his tongue provides.

“‘M gonna, mmf, ’s too much!” you jab at his hand in an attempt to push him away. He’s relentless though, still sucking harshly, and teasing, ramming his thick fingers up against your gummy walls.

It feels different than when you touch yourself, more intense. Like something’s sitting heavy on your bladder. Then, snap. The string in your abdomen unravels, bringing forth a flood of ecstasy.

“’Teyam!” you sob, back arching to the ceiling. When he pulls his fingers out, a stream of clear liquid seeps from your cunt. He’s awestruck, staring in admiration as your sweat kissed chest rises and falls rhythmically.

“Look, your legs are shaking,” he points, biting down a laugh, “why are they shaking?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you feign offense, pushing him backwards with a chuckle. He pretends to be wounded, rubbing his back dramatically, ‘oohing’ and ‘owing’ as he does so. When you finally sit up, your eyes naturally fall to his loincloth, a wet ringlet contrasting starkly against the beige textile.

“Hey…” your voice is hesitant, but teetering on the edge of curiosity, “Can I try something?”

The boy silently nods his approval, shifting his position on the ground when you amble over to him. A look of confusion molds onto his face following the events that involve you plopping down onto his lap and laying him down. He goes to speak but you interrupt him.

“Your turn, right? Can’t put it in, but…I can still make you feel good,” you say, tugging on the piece of fabric that separates your sex from his. Eagerly, he removes it for you and lets the item fall haphazardly to the ground.

It’s big, so big—and pretty too. A beautiful blue hue that matches the rest of his body, paired along with a blushing teal tip that’s oozing pre. You want to know what he tastes like on your tongue…

“So pretty.”

Heat rises to his cheeks, and his tail takes an aquiline form, quivering in rapid movements. His usual, over-confident disposition was slowly dissipating under your intense gaze, and you reveled in it by mocking his bashfulness.

“Awe, the little kitty’s shy,” you mock, tickling his side.

“Stop it, I don’t look like those Earth things,” he laughs, pushing your hand away, but to no avail. You continue to dodge his attempts to stop you, tickling him here and there until he accidentally bucks and pulls you down against him. Embarrassingly, you let a whine fall from your lips…still too sensitive down there, you guess.

There’s a shit-eating grin plastered on his face now, you hate it. “Who’s making noises like a kitty now, huh?” With this, he takes the liberty to do it again, pressing you down hard against his length.

The feeling of your bare cunt against him is electrifying, probably (definitely) not better than him being inside you, but the next best thing. This was supposed to be your thanks to him. But now he’s taken full charge—maneuvering you back and forth, gripping and kneading—it’s cruel.

For someone who’s never mated with anyone in his life, he’s sure moving you around like he has. His hands are all over you—thighs, hips, waist, breasts, it’s almost overwhelming. Every touch, addled with the buck of hips, brings forth a new sensation that is better than the last. You think this would be a good way to go out, right on his cock. One last hurrah before the morbid inevitable.

“You f-feel so good, (your name),” his voice is breathy, “r-really good.” Neteyam’s grip on your arms is vice, partly because he can feel his climax approaching, but mostly because he can tell you’re growing tired.

Swiftly, he changes your positions to where you’re laying on your back and he’s crouching over you. The tip of his head smoothes over your folds when he pushes up, and before he draws back, you can see just about where his dick would rest if he were inside of you.

“I’d be all the way up here,” he presses down just beneath your breastbone, “you’re so tiny.” It sounds so dirty, but you know ultimately he’s just making an observation—regardless, the comment has your stomach churning in excitement.

The both of you watch in fascination as he sheathes himself up and over your cunt, moaning in unison when the tip of his mushroomy head catches against your bud. Euphoric, he thinks. He never imagined that something could feel this good, let alone without connecting bonds.

Still sensitive from earlier, it doesn’t take too long for you to reach your peak. Neteyam knows that your arrhythmic breathing is a tell-tale sign, and he helps you get there by cooing words of encouragement.

He goes back and forth between ’I got you’s and ‘it’s okay’s, leaving trails of kisses down your body in his wake. The second you finish, you’re pulling him down onto you tight. Moaning and whining into his ear, whispering those same words of encouragement that he whispered to you prior.

“So good, ‘Teyam,” you claw at his back, “keep going, want you to feel good too.” And he does. Unrelenting in his attack against your sex, he comes with a few more pistons.

You eagerly welcome him into your arms when he drops from exhaustion, and hold him there until your erratic breaths synchronize. The both of you are disgustingly sweaty and sticky, but even so, you feel at peace.

You bask in the tranquil quietness of the night, just staring at each other. Soft caresses and soothing hums. Then, Neteyam speaks.

“On this fateful night, two hearts danced…” he whispers, grabbing your hand to hold it over his heart.

“What does this mean?” you smile at him. He ponders over it and then explains.

“My songcord…I want to tell this story,” he starts, “the night when two hearts became one.”

A crystal droplet cascades down your face, “that sounds beautiful.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x reader smut #avatar x reader #avatar x reader smut #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #atwow #awow #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut

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seireitonin · 1 month

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Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby

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asvterias · 8 months

Text

𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖡𝗈𝗒 ~ 𝖩𝖺𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌

Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Jealousy & Allusions to Sex/Sexual Thoughts

Pairings: (FWB) Jaime Reyes x (FWB) Black!Fem!Reader, Best Friend!Milagro x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Being friends with benefits with Jamie is hard to keep undercover, in hopes of Milagro never finding out. The number #1 rule is to be strictly sexual and not explore romantic feelings for the other. What happens when that rule is broken?

Word Count: 2.5k+

Tag List: @drqcrys @mageneire @websterss @pxachy-tea @moralesszz @odiesdayoff @allthingsvicf @tinkerbelle05 @alienstardust @lemonyboy97 @alastorhazbin @writing-fanics @veronicarose20 @conicoroahre @gay-dorito-dust @presidentbarbieirl @kayla2233454-blog @sodacatz @n7cje

Author’s Note: Watched the Blue Beetle movie recently and I was hooked on Jaime Reyes. This is my first time writing for Jaime Reyes, so he might be a little out of character but hopefully you like it!

Spanish Translations

“Por qué me estás mintiendo, Jaime?” — “Why are you lying to me, Jaime?”

Sneaking around can be full of excitement alongside the adrenaline of the whole ordeal. You and Jaime were secretly fooling around, being extremely cautious around his sister who was also your best friend. You didn’t even know how you ended up in this complicated relationship with Jaime Reyes. It started with two people under the influence of alcohol, both with the straightforward intention of getting laid and it ended with a confused hangover and a hurried conversation of forgetting about the whole affair.

At first, you two had avoided each other like the plague, sometimes accidentally crossing paths whenever you visited the Reyes residence or from basic errands that needed to be fulfilled.

Then the longer you two distanced yourselves from each other, the more agonizing it felt for the both of you. One day, Jaime snapped which led up to you two heading to bed for a passionate night. The morning after having sex, you two discussed your unofficial relationship and coming to terms with being friends with benefits and nothing more than that.

It was a simple and easy rule to follow, right? Wrong! How very wrong that you were! Too bad that you were breaking the rule. How could you not fall in love with him? With those beautiful doe dark brown eyes, his long curly hair, and his alluring personality, not to mention being completely star-struck when riding his di—

Oh, his voice…him speaking Spanish to you while in the most intimate positions has you craving for more.

You always missed the comfort of his arms at night as you watched him get dressed and leave, heading back home to avoid suspicion from his family. If Jaime’s family ever caught wind that he was not technically single, they would go ballistic, eager to meet the person and neither of you wanted that unnecessary attention.

It was finally official, you certainly loathed mornings, especially when Jaime spent the nights before. There were rare moments when he’d be able to stay the night with you. Luckily for you, today was one of those rare days.

Normally, he would claim that he’s the big spoon, but his sleepy smile widens when you’re the big spoon instead. His favorite sleeping position is lying on top of the softness of your breasts. Sometimes he would wake up face first right in the plushness of your breasts, that was always a good way to start the morning, wasn’t it? Your hands would subconsciously tangle themselves through his thick curly hair, softly massaging his scalp, sending him into a peaceful sleep.

You stirred yourself awake, no longer feeling the presence of Jaime lying on top of you. You tiredly stretched out your limbs, wincing at the soreness from your breasts down to your mid-thighs. Jaime certainly wore you out last night.

Very faintly, you heard the quiet shuffling and muttering of words. Regretfully, you slowly open your eyes, your eyelids still heavy as you rub the sleep out of them.

“Hmm…morning Jaime.” You yawn, scratching your braids through the satin red bonnet.

“Did I wake you?” He mutters walking over, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, and continuing the search for his belongings. You assumed that he just came out of the shower. He wore a towel around his waist, dripping wet, glistening over his abs and that sight made you think unholy things. There was no way that you were still thirsty for him. Come on, you’re still recovering from last night and you were greedy for more the following morning?! Have some self-control, for once!

You shook your head, disposing of the lustful thoughts. “Wanna stay for breakfast?” You suggest, nervously gnawing on your lower lip.

“I would love to, but I have to quickly run an errand for my mami and then head over to work with Jenny.” He dried himself off, putting on a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

He opened your closet, digging out his ironed suit that you prepared a few days ago.

“When are you off this week?”

“Today and Sunday are my only days off this week.” You inform him, watching him get dressed, “I could run the errand with Mrs. Reyes, so you’ll get a balanced breakfast before heading to work.”

“Oh, really thanks (Y/N).”

“Anytime, pretty boy.” You reply, taking your bonnet off. Jaime blushes at the nickname, feeling giddy whenever you use that phrase. “What time do I need to leave?”

“About a quarter past eight..” He murmurs observing his watch.

“Speak English, please.”

“It’s 8:15 and my mami needs to leave around 9:30.” He advises, looking at your vanity. “Where’s my necklace?” He turns to you.

“You have to come get it..” You tease, wiggling the piece of jewelry in your hand. He chuckles at your playful yet seductive tone.

Crawling to you across the bed, he gives you a soft kiss making you caress his face. The slow sensual kiss lasted a few seconds, and even though you wanted to stay in the loving moment, air had become difficult to maintain, both of you pulling away from the kiss. You flutter your eyes open, catching him staring into your eyes with a hidden glint that makes you flush, which makes those butterflies run wild in your stomach.

“Come here, I’ll help you put on your tie.” You offer, shuffling towards the edge of the bed.

He sighs, allowing you to fix the tie underneath his collar. Your faces were so close that you could have fainted right then and there, completely embarrassing yourself on the spot. You started to worry, wondering if he felt you staring at him. Turns out, he was admiring you and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Once you finished his tie, you cleared your throat and smoothed over his suit, straightening out invisible wrinkles.

The Mexican boy faces you again. “What time do you get off on Saturday?”

“Probably by 10 or 11 pm.”

“Perfect! I’ll see you Saturday night.” He promises, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Yeah,” You agree with a lovesick smile on your face, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

You handed him the necklace but he stopped you, “Keep it, it looks better on you anyway.”

You tilt your head to the side, feeling yourself tingle with goosebumps as he appears from behind you and he gently brushes your braids away. You gathered your braids together, bunching them up into a messy makeshift ponytail, giving Jaime area to put the necklace on. Once he clasps the jewelry on your neck, you release your braids as you grin at him.

Smiling sweetly in response, he steals one last kiss from you and hurriedly leaves, shutting the front door. Even though you two were friends with benefits, he still was the kind and sweet man that you knew all those years ago.

You sigh, lingering your fingers on the necklace, fawning over the mere kiss that he shared with you. It was an empty kiss so it should be treated as meaningless, but it hurts your heart for you to wish otherwise.

Later that evening, Milagro helped you pick out an outfit for your blind date. Jaime tagged along with Milagro, under the impression of wanting privacy from his family.

You and Milagro picked out a nice evening dress, concluding that it was the perfect dress.

“You look so sexy in this.” Milagro squeals, momentarily catching Jaime’s attention. His eyes shift from his sister to yours, scanning the outfit that you are wearing, shamelessly checking you out. You did a little twirl to display the entirety of the dress, your eyes solely locked on Jaime to figure out his reaction. She was right, you looked so sexy in the dress. Maybe too sexy for another guy.

He noticed the mischievousness in your body language and decided that two could play that game.

“So…” Jaime ponders, lightly gritting his teeth, using his phone as a distraction, “What do you know about this guy?” His question was directed to you, attempting to conceal his jealousy. Slow and steady wins the race.

You turned to Milagro who spoke for you, “Duh, dummy, we don’t know who it is, that's why it’s called a blind date.”

“Wait! You’ve never even met this person before?” His eyes widened in surprise, processing the newfound information.

“Jaime, are you slow or something?” His sister asks. She rolled her eyes and continuously tapped her forehead, “Think, dear brother. Just think.”

He fakes grins at his sister and looks back at you. “It could be dangerous for you.”

“Okay, and I have a taser in my purse if anything goes wrong. I can take care of myself.”

“Why are you so interested in my best friend’s love life all of a sudden?”

“Just looking out for her.” He mumbles.

“Hmmm…” She sounds skeptical, surprisingly trusting her brother’s word.

All of a sudden, Milagro’s phone rings, indicating that her pizza order is ready. “I’m gonna pick up the pizza. Be back in 30 minutes.” She grabs your car keys and her wallet, leaving the apartment.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Jaime spoke his concerns for you.

“So…you’re going out with someone else.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Then you should also know that I’m going out with someone else.” He boasts proudly with a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh, really?” You bite the inside of your cheek as jealousy boils through your veins at the thought of Jaime seeing someone else. Surprisingly, you managed to keep your jealousy at bay, refusing to let Jaime have the upper hand here.

You realized what he was doing, and he wasn’t going to win. It was so obvious that he was lying to you. So he decided to stretch the lie, just to witness your breaking point, “Her name is Maria Gonzalez, her family just moved to the neighborhood and we hit it off great. I also have her number.”

You remained nonchalant, continuing your mascara on your left eye, “Okay…good for you then?”

“That’s all you have to say?” He scoffs, folding his arms.

“Well, what do you want me to say? You want me to act jealous and forbid you from seeing this other girl?” You click your tongue, “Now that you mention it, no new family is moving into your neighborhood otherwise Mrs. Reyes would have told me, and I would have offered to decorate welcoming baskets with her and Milagro.”

Shit! You caught him in his lie. His eyes widened in surprise at your quick response to his lie.

As a matter of fact, he was more proud than scared of your realization of his lie. Your intelligence and ability to understand between the lines were one of the many traits that he loved about you. Intelligence is the glue that holds it all together, not that there aren’t many more characteristics from you that he adored. He would never put any other characteristic above the other, harboring his mutual love for all of them. After all, you attended Harvard, majoring in nursing, and left with multiple degrees.

“Por qué me estás mintiendo, Jaime?” You looked at him through the mirror with a pointed look.

Switching back and forth between English and Spanish daily was a neat trick that you mastered with ease. To be honest, Spanish was a beautiful language, and you just wanted to experience the full meaning of it.

You learned Spanish for your best friend and her family, wanting to connect with them on a personal level. At this point, you became fluent in Spanish and could hold decent conversations with the Reyes family in their native language. The Reyes family even made jokes that you would someday marry a Latino.

“I don’t know..” he shrugs his shoulders, “Maybe…I’m just confused right now.”

“May I remind you that you wanted us to be a casual fuck from time to time, and besides we also agreed on seeing other people.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Yeah, but what? You want to change your mind now?”

“Actually, I do.”

You paused from doing your mascara, making eye contact in the mirror with him. Of course, you weren’t expecting that answer. His statement rendered you speechless, allowing the silence to overtake the room. You gulped silently, intently watching him stalk toward you, almost in a patronizing manner to tease you even further. You were frozen, unaware of what he might do to you and it somewhat turned you on. The small thud of the mascara tube dropping on the vanity brought you back to your senses.

“…We shouldn’t do this, Jaime.” You lightly warn the boy. Jaime remains silent, making you consistently aware that he is gorgeously checking you out from behind. He made you so flustered to the point that you were stupidly smitten with him that it was almost ridiculous. It was a miracle that you couldn’t see a black girl’s blush.

“Milagro‘s gonna be back soon.” Your tone was soft.

The air was still tense as he nodded, his eyes still intently focused on your physique. Nervously, you began to play with your braids as your body squirmed under his gaze. The things that Jamie made you feel were out of this world. You held your breath, dilated dark brown eyes studying his every move that he made. It was the familiar gust of his infamous cologne that gave his sudden presence away, noticing his breathing was lingering on you. You shudder, minor goosebumps forming on your arms.

“Then, we just have to be quick, don’t we?” You swear that you could’ve felt his hard dick straining against his pants.

“Listen here Jaime—“ You were cut off by his hands roughly wrapping around your throat, raising your head, catching an upside down angle of the 22-year-old. A warm pair of lips was planted onto yours, reclaiming full jealousy as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. In a matter of seconds, the inviting kiss escalated into sexual tension, quickly heating the aura of the bedroom.

likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#blue beetle 2023 #jaime reyes #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes smut #jaime reyes x black!reader #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes x black!fem!reader #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle x fem!reader #blue beetle smut #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle fanfic

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violetsiren90 · 3 months

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Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and it's premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM communicty from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

"Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair.

"Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes.

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

"Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

"He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me."

At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech.

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening.

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath.

Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

"Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

"I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

"What?"

"Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come.

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried.

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up?

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit.

Shit.

"Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

"Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

"Is it?"

You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

"Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

"You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

"...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

"Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

"Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?"

"When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom -

"When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open.

"Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

"I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins.

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend.

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

"Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.

"A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

"Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

"Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove."

You nod.

"Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

"Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

"Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

You scramble to find your voice.

"Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

"I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

"See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

"Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

"No, Hobi," you whisper.

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

"That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

"You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

"Make me."

His eyes go wide and wild.

"So that's how it's gonna be?"

The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

"Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression.

You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

Yeah, fuck that.

You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

"Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house."

You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

"Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

Smack!

You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

SMACK!

It has the desired effect.

CRACK!

Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

Please punish my pussy....

You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

"What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

"Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

"Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass."

He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

"More, hm?" he hums.

You nod eagerly.

He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes.

He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

"Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

"What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

"Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

"I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

"I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.

Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

"Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.

"Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand.

As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place.

"Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

"Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

You have never felt more alive.

And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely.

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch.

Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god.

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

"Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok - you get your pretty wet cun-"

Click jangle clack - boom boom boom!

Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch.

Boom, boom, boom!

"Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation.

Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

"If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

You blink.

"Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway."

It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

"To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file.

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

"I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

"Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

"Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress.

"What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in.

But today is not an average day.

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

You have to get out of here.

"I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

"You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

And then you're gone.

Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants.

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day.

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own.

The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day.

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why?

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

"Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

"Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

"Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment.

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

"You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

"You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

"Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

"For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

He grimaces theatrically.

"I don't see it."

The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

"Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

You scoff.

"Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

"For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

"You love him."

He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

"Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

"I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

"Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

"Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle.

You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

"I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

"Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

You heave a dramatic sigh.

"If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?"

He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

"Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

"Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

"I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

"Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

"Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth.

"No, really," you press.

Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

"Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

"So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't-"

He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

"Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

"Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

"So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

"Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

Jimin nods.

"Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

"Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

"Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..."

Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

"So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

"Grow up, dude."

"Am I right, though? I'm right."

You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

"Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

Jimin smiles.

"You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

You quirk an eyebrow.

"I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

It's your turn to smirk.

"You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

"What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

"So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?"

Jimin shrugs.

"Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority.

"Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

"EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that.

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.

Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"

"Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

"I'll sing with you, Googie!"

You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

"Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area.

The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers.

The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder.

"I recommend the Down With Love."

Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

"Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

"It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

"You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

"Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

You eye it skeptically.

"How do they make it black?"

"Activated charcoal. C'mon."

Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

"None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

"Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

"Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

"Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

"Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

He laughs merrily.

"You're so cute when you're flustered!"

You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

And holy shit does he look good.

He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

"Hyung!"

As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

"Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

"Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

"Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

"Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

"Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

"How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.

"I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.

"Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man.

"I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

"You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much."

You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him.

You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own.

Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit.

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

"I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

"I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know."

He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

"I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

"Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?"

You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

"Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

"What do you think?"

You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

"Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd.

You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

"I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?"

His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

"I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

"Then don't be."

It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

"What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms.

You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

"Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

"OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick.

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

"That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

"They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

"I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation."

You nod in agreement.

"Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

You huff out a long breath.

"I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

He smiles wryly.

"It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

Hobi squeezes your hand.

"You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

"No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

"It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

"I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

"It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

"Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

"A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

"A brat," he answers.

"...Yeah."

"Want me to work for it."

Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

"The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

"I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

He looks at you intently.

You smile.

"I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

"You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other."

You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

Your heart sings.

After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you.

"Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

"I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

"Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

He smiles.

"Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

"We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

"If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?"

You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

"Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp.

Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

"You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

Click.

That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

"What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

"Quiet," he hisses in warning.

You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

"You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

"So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

"My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

"Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

"Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

You swallow thickly.

"Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

"Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

"Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks.

He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

"Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

"Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

"So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

"Wanna suck it off."

You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

"BEG."

A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

"P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

"Again."

"Please..."

"Please, what?"

"Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words.

"Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze.

"Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

"Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

"Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

"Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

"Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

"So confident. We'll see about that."

He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

"Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

"Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

"Shit, look at you..."

You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar.

"You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing.

"Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?"

You nod, and then remember the rules.

"Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony.

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

And he cums.

Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

"So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat."

Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.

You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place.

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

"You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

"A reward?" you answer hopefully.

He hums in assent.

"That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first."

After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

"Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

"Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

"Please," you add in correction.

"Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

"Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

"Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

"You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

"Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders.

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts.

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples.

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

"You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

"Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

Smack!

You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

"You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

"Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

"Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

"Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

"I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices.

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

"Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

"Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling.

His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence.

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being.

"What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound.

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal.

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

"You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

"Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

“Look at me," he rasps.

Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock.

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

"Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back.

You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

"Whose little whore are you?"

You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

"Whose?" he booms.

"Yours!" you press out in a sob.

"Who do you kneel for?"

"You!"

"Who owns this pussy?"

"Y-you!"

"And who the fuck am I?"

"HOSEOK!"

"Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

"Yeoboseyo?"

The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

"Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

"Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

There's a pause on the other end.

"Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

"Mhm."

You hear him scoff in amusement

"Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

"I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

"Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

"You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

"I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Hobi."

"You should celebrate!"

"I did go out with my work friends...but..."

"You should come over," he interjects.

The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

"Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

"Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

You hold your breath.

“...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

#hoseok fic #oneshot #bts oneshot #hoseok smut #hoseok imagine #hobi x reader #hobi smut #hobi x y/n #jhope smut #jhope fanfic #jhope x reader #jhope x you #jhope x y/n #jhope imagine #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #fic: make me

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adonis-koo · 3 months

Text

wicked • 19

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 13k

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tags: vaginal fingering, tiddy sucking (jk is definitely a boobs man), semi public sex??, oral (f), so many petnames, dom!kook, brief masturbation (m), multiple orgasms, size kink, multiple positions, cowgirl, creampies, slight somnophilia? (they keep having sex when they're both extremely exhausted), spooning turned to doggy, some very filthy talk, corruption kink, semi degradation kink, the word seed is used once and I actually hate it, some sweet, sweet aftercare, pillow talk, grinding, cumplay, brief handjob (m), edging, cockwarming, they're so in love your honor

Note: people will be shocked at how fast this update has come out and honestly ?? so am I, but tbf half of it is smut so...iykyk ALSO if you haven't checked out the playlist for wicked, you totally should!!

After the first snowfall, winter had come rolling in with no sign of stopping and just as Jungkook had once said, Penumbra was now buried in snow.

There was something so captivating about the snow, its crisp frosty delicate nature, how despite the sun being covered in clouds, the snow reflected off the light and made everything so much brighter.

The land was so desolate and yet so full at the same time, it left a deep yearning in you for the warmth, but in an oddly fulfilling way, it let you rest deeper at night, taking in the great vastness of the land and its minimalism.

The morning had been busy just as each morning before had been so, Yule was only a week away and the court had many aristocrats staying at the castle making merry. It was such a celebratory time and yet you still felt like a ghost better left in the past.

Your days were not all horrible, but the constant numbness never fully went away, at one time you had wanted to go to Yule in Kimhae to reunite with your parents, but the idea of leaving somehow filled you with as much anxiety as staying.

“Well? What’s on your mind?” Jungkook finally spoke, not looking up from his work book, making sure the last of his bill signs, contracts carefully written out and correspondence dealt with so he wouldn’t be behind on his work when you both made your return.

You had been admittedly antsy, tidying up your bedroom, packing what few trinkets you thought you might want during the nights of your journey, fiddling with your own work and where to put what.

You simply couldn’t sit still.

You didn’t reply for a long moment causing Jungkook to look up from his desk, blue eyes appearing from those dark thick locks of hair.

Sighing you shifted as you set your book against the bed, “…You’ll be mad at me.”

“Well you don’t know until you tell me.” Jungkook didn’t seem worried.

You glanced away once more as Jungkook stood up, rounding his desk to walk over to you, “…What if I was having second thoughts…About going to Kimhae?”

Jungkook curved a brow, “The morning we depart for our trip?”

“Don’t say it like that!” You pouted with an usher.

“Is it really the trip? Or is it something else?” Jungkook replied, brushing off your pout.

Your pout however only furthered because you didn’t have an answer, “I don’t know…I just…this is the first time we’ll be making a public appearance outside of Penumbra since our wedding.”

“And what about it?” Jungkook shifted, crossing his arms, still not understanding what your problem was and truth be told you wish you had a better answer for him.

“Does that not make you anxious? It makes me incredibly anxious.” You frowned, wringing your hands together, you were anxious about everything truthfully, but the idea of making your first appearance in nearly a year, well…You didn’t know what to expect.

But then again, Penumbra had prepared you for pretty much everything at this point, there weren't too many boxes left to check off on life events at this point.

“Why would I be?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, “I’ve nothing to hide nor prove to anyone…If you’re anxious simply because, then it’s understandable,” Jungkook reached out to you, brushing his palm over your cheek before it crept down to your neck, “A lot has happened, I think it’s only natural. But I also know you’ve been looking forward to seeing your parents for the majority of your stay here, it would be imprudent of me to let you cancel our trip at the last minute.”

Your lips quivered a little, “Even if I’m terrified? What if something happens?”

Jungkook’s lips curled into a little smile, his fingers curling around your neck, not squeezing, but in a loving hold you had grown so acquainted too, “Then I will be there to stop it from happening,” Jungkook’s forehead pressed down against yours, “I know you’ll regret not going more then if you do.”

Your eyes fluttered shut before you leaned over to bury your face into the crook of his neck, Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you tight as you murmured, “I hope you’re right.” curling your arms around his waist as you let yourself become engulfed in his warmth and letting it swallow all of your consuming thoughts.

It stayed like this for a long minute before Jungkook slowly pulled away, looking down at you as he spoke, “I have something I wanted to give you.”

You pulled away from him more to get a better look at him, tilting your head in curiosity, “A gift…?”

Jungkook snorted, “Something like that. I wasn’t sure if it would be finished in time, but Jimin managed to get it to me last night.” He let go of you before walking over to the bed, leaning down as he pulled down out from underneath.

You tilted your head at the thick cloth cover as Jungkook stood up, holding it out to you. It was long and thin but held a considerable weight to it, not too heavy, but just enough to let you know it was of incredible quality.

He nodded at you as a gesture to pull whatever was inside out, opening the draw strings. The first thing you saw was the bright silver crest of a pommel, pulling it out further was a soft leather hand and pulling it all the way out revealed a shortsword around twenty three inches.

You couldn’t help but let your lips part at just how beautiful it was though, the metal was reflective and the detailing along the fuller, the blade was double edged and as your eyes traveled back to the handle you noticed a sort of…language? Written down the grip.

“It’s the first of its kind,” Jungkook finally spoke, “Noxtria melted with Quicksilver for a lightweight balanced sword but sharp enough to cut through thick metal. Godslayer is it’s name.”

“Godslayer?” You looked up at him.

“The idea behind this blade was that it would be lighter than air, but have the strength to kill a god. I couldn’t think of a better person to hold the first blade of its kind than my own wife. We’ve been working on your swordsmanship for a long time now and I think it’s time you carry your own sword.” Jungkook nodded, a sort of pride in his eyes as he watched you weigh it, giving it a whirl in your hand.

The training you had done had definitely made you physically stronger, as while the blade had weight, it wasn’t taxing to hold, “I want you to never feel defenseless by my side, we’re partners and equals and while I hope it never again comes to you needing to use this, I want you to have it if the occasion were to ever arise.”

You were speechless as you stared at the blade, a reflection of yourself in its metal staring back at you, lowering it you whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.”

A small smile pulled on his lips, “Anything for my little sun.” His fingers traced down your cheek, “The case for it is still in the cover, here I’ll help you with putting on the harness.”

Jungkook took the cloth covering off it to reveal the heavy black sheath and the harness that it attached too, Jungkook had carefully pulled it around your hip, adjusting it until it was snug against your skin, it felt weird having such a thing attached to your body now.

But there was something oddly…safe about it, as Jungkook said, this was a safety measure and it made you feel as such, you could only hope you would never have to take another soul but….Your fingers unconsciously lifted, rubbing over the spot on your chest, now scarred from where Di Jin had attempted to kill you.

Jungkook as if knowing what you were thinking tenderly grabbed your hand pulling it away, “It’s difficult to see it now but…” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, “I think…if I could go back and change things I would, in a heartbeat. But I do think it happened for a reason.”

Your lips trembled softly, “How could killing someone happen for a reason?”

“It made a spectacle for one,” Jungkook replied, a certain soft note in his voice was his hand found its way back to your neck, “Those who doubted your ability to hold your own in the court will never question it again. Your words have always had bite, but now you have proof behind them.”

You shook your head, “I don’t see eye to eye with you on this Jungkook.”

“I know you don’t,” Jungkook replied, his thumb soothingly rubbing into your skin, “And I wouldn’t expect anything less, but your respect in the court is much more now than it ever was before. Not only this but…”

Jungkook paused for a long moment gathering his thoughts, “Knowing you have the capability to defend yourself…there will be times when we will have no choice but to be apart,” He sighed, “I will eventually have to lead projects that take me away from Penumbra, knowing you have the means to take care of yourself puts me at ease.”

“I don’t want you to be apart from me.” You mumbled, anxiety at the thought immediately quelling.

Jungkook let out an amused breath, “That’s not something to worry about now, one thing at a time. If you have the rest of your things settled, we should head down, the sooner we get on the road the sooner we’ll arrive, and the sooner you’ll feel better.”

“...I suppose.” You mumbled, but Jungkook was not feeding into your pouty expression, no matter how much it was his weakness, he grabbed your thick cloak which had laid abandoned on the bed, wrapping it over your shoulders as he buckled it up, grabbing his own to carry as he held out his arm for you.

Letting him guide you down you ignored the stares of a group of court ladies staring you down, perhaps in wariness, perhaps because the court had easily taken notice of how close you and Jungkook had become in the last few weeks.

The consummation of your marriage hadn’t actually changed anything, but Jungkook’s confession of love had really done a number on you both, and every time those sweet words left his lips you had the intention of saying it back.

And yet every time it felt like the word got stuck in your throat unable to escape, perhaps it was because you were still scared, still in disbelief that Jungkook loved you, but all of his actions, his words, even the way he looked at you, it all screamed love.

Being met with snow on the ground, crunching beneath your feet you let out a breath that you could visibly see, a sensation you still weren’t quite used to, it was freezing cold and the journey would be very long.

Jungkook had spared no expense to keep you wrapped in very thick layers in hopes that it would keep you warm, but it seemed no matter the amount, you were always cold.

“Wheein is doing her last rounds of gathering items, she should be out shortly,” Taehyun called out, finishing fixing up your horse’s saddle, Jungkook walked up with you before helping you on and making sure you were situated before saddling his own horse.

“Snow isn’t too deep yet, we should make a timely arrival,” Yoongi called out, trotting on his own horse up the path ahead before stopping next to Jungkook, “If we make it with not much snowfall, it should only take four days.”

Your lip curled a little at the estimate, you knew Kimhae was further away then Eunoia, but you had been used to only a day’s travel when you were in Eunoia, they lived further West then Eunoia and a little further south.

The climate in the West however made it incredibly dry, the further you traveled the less snow there would be, hopefully at least.

Once Wheein had finished her last round of gathering any last minute packing she had come out with a few guards help and finished loading the pack horses and then mounted her own. It wasn't too big of an entourage of servants, but you had two of Yoongi’s men, himself and of course your two personal servants to attend you both.

You were nervous for many reasons, showing your face to the outside world, you weren’t sure what reaction you would gain, knowing how the truth of Penumbra had been twisted beyond recognition, you could distinctly remember all the dread you had for two years of being engaged to Jungkook.

Words that he had abused women in many ways, that he starved all of his servants and that he’d beat them if they disobeyed, rumors swirling that he already had multiple wives and you would be another trophy in his collection, some rumors even going as far as to say he had his dead enemies taken to the castle so he could bath in their blood.

The list went on and on and every single one was just a rumor, nothing more than foolish lies spread to cause more fear, Jungkook was not a single thing he had ever been stated as, wicked least of all.

But you were now nervous because you had seen both sides, the truth and lies both, and you couldn’t help but wonder what rumors had escaped Penumbra about you? Dread filled you once more, what twisted way could the world turn your murder of Di Jin even worse?

That you feasted on his corpse?

You could briefly taste the raw iron in your mouth that had you holding back a gag, Jungkook’s sharp gaze that had been looking ahead immediately on you, “What’s wrong?”

You held your hand on your mouth trying desperately hard to not let the memory suck you back into the past, flashes of blood in your mind, cartilage mixed with skin, the raw smell of blood, “Water, can I have some water.” You forced the words out.

Jungkook wordlessly pulled the water satchel from the side of his saddle, handing it to you, “You’re thinking.”

You took a large swallow and slowly the faint taste faded back into the nothingness it came from, you shook your head handing it back to him, “I’m trying not too.”

“You’re not doing a good job of it,” Jungkook replied, making you give him a look, he laughed a little though you spot the concern in his eyes, “Would talking about it make you feel better?”

You sighed as you shook your head, “I think i’d rather talk about something else,” Lingering on your thoughts would only serve to possibly bring memories even more vivid back, “You’ve been to Kimhae right Jungkook?”

Jungkook guided his horse a little closer to yours so you’d be able to converse better, “It’s been a long time. We visited when they hosted the War Council. I was…maybe seventeen? This was just in the beginning of negotiating,” Jungkook hummed as he thought about it, “Kimhae was dull in my opinion, they lacked conviction and were very obvious in the fact that they didn’t respect Penumbra or the Jeon name.”

You listened to him before you let out a laugh gaining his attention, “I remember this quite well, I was visiting Seokjin at the time. I remember spotting you and your father arriving out my window but you were too far for me to get a good look. I remember him complaining though. Telling me you had this haughty look about you, acting as if you were better than him.”

Jungkook scoffed, “I was better than him. I am still better than him. If you were present at the time though…Why had I not seen you?” He looked a bit confused, as obviously women weren’t allowed in the War Room but that didn’t mean they were prohibited anywhere else, he had stayed a full fortnite at Kimhae that trip and not once had he seen you.

“I made myself unknown on purpose,” You replied, a small frown tugging on your lips, “It was at Seokjin’s insistence of course, he didn’t want you near me with the potential to ‘corrupt me’, as he said.”

“Corrupt you?” Jungkook scoffed, almost offended, “If we had met properly before our engagement, I feel we could’ve been cordial. Come to think of it I do remember talk of the Eunoian Princess, being in court,” Jungkook’s gaze became pensive as his brows pinched together, “I remember Seokjin gloating about how the fairest princess warmed his bed at night and that he loved nothing more then his name screamed in pleasure.”

You blinked multiple times before your gaze shot to Jungkook, “This was in reference to me?”

You had known Jungkook long enough now to tell he was absolutely wrought with anger at just the idea, his knuckles tight on the reigns of his horse as he stared ahead, “Mhm. I once told you that we saw him differently, that’s one of the many reasons why. He loved to peacock around gloating about sleeping with you.”

“Sleeping with me!?” Your mouth parted in somewhat disbelief, “We…” You couldn’t help but let out a scoffed laugh, he had been pressuring you for some time, but you never realized just how desperate he was to go out of his way to lie to other men that you both had slept with one another in such a way.

And then the embarrassment began to flood in, was this why so many men in his court assumed you were loose, or that you were an easy woman?

“Well I can promise you he was nothing more than a liar,” You let out another laugh as you shook your head, “Screaming his name in pleasure…The only name that was ushered was my own and even then that was on a lucky day.”

“Your name!?” Jungkook sucked in a harsh breath of air.

You paused, suddenly realizing what you had just said, and then looking around, there was a good distance between Yoongi up ahead with his fellow guards and Wheein and Taehyun were conversing further behind, Fenrir having walked alongside you awhile now.

“So Seokjin has gotten to experience that sort of intimacy from you.” Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as if this was the worst news he could ever receive.

“It’s not…” You sighed, trying to find the right words, you had never really planned on mentioning what little intimacy you shared with Seokjin, as it wasn’t relevant to your current relationship and truthfully, there wasn’t much to talk about, “I’ve…When we first started to explore an intimate relationship together, you remember me being frightened by it, yes?”

Jungkook tilted his head, a little confused as to where this was going but nodded regardless.

“The same could be said for back then- especially back then,” You explained as you lowered your voice a little, “I was nervous to lose my virginity, Seokjin already didn’t like my traditional Eunoian attire, but even moreso it had him acting out, trying to pressure me into giving myself to him. But I could never commit to it. The idea of him leaving me after I gave it too him made me too anxious…And..”

You sighed as you glanced down at the snowy earth, “I hated feeling like nothing more than a sexual fantasy for him. Looking back, it feels as if that was all I ever provided, some sort of exotic fantasy that he could escape to in Eunoia, never truly a person, a soul, just something to make him aroused and fulfilled. And so to keep him satiated but also withhold my own boundary, I offered to pleasure him,” You pressed your lips together, your nose wrinkling, “It wasn’t very often, nor was it very pleasant but well…It kept things from escalating beyond my control.”

Jungkook’s jaw only clenched, “How different things would’ve been if we had met that week. Perhaps you could have been saved from all that trouble.”

“Things happened the way they did though,” You offered a weak smile, “It’s not something I ever think about anymore, after all, it feels so long ago despite being so recent. And I’m very content now.”

You reached out to grab his hand as your smile brightened, “I’m happy I saved myself for the right person. I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else.”

This seemed to soothe Jungkook in the right way, “Well when you say it like that it makes me think you’ll want extra help to keep warm tonight.”

“Jungkook!” You smacked his shoulder, “What an indecent thing to suggest, in a tent? In the middle of a journey?”

Jungkook chuckled as he gripped his reins in contentment, “No better time than the present princess.”

You only shook your head, the hours seemed to go quick as you and Jungkook had talked about this and that, and then a content silence took over as the sky darkened and Yoongi had begun to look for a suitable spot to make camp.

They had managed to find a spot off road closer to the woods where the cold wind was blocked and snow wasn’t as deep, clearing off the snow before getting fresh cut wood to get a fire going, setting up tents didn’t take very long.

Soon dinner was cooking over the fire, granted you had already eaten an abundant mix of packed cabbage and vegetables tossed together and despite being tired and hungry Jungkook was still easily fending you off as metal clashed together.

“You’ll need to try harder than that princess,” Jungkook whirled the sword in his hand as you huffed a breath, stretching your aching arms, “If you were to fight an opponent far more skilled than you in battle what would your tactic be?”

“Run?” You raised your brows, Jungkook seemed to enjoy asking hypothetical questions that you were certain would never happen.

“Okay but in this scenario you do, what would you do?” He pressed, giving you a moment to regather yourself.

“Well it depends, if they’re aggressive, which I assume they would be, it’s not difficult to size my lack of experience up in comparison to someone like you, I’d have no choice but to defend until they burn down their energy and then once they tire out I’d make a chance to strike.” You sighed as you lifted your sword back up.

“Yes that would be the logical way to go about it,” Jungkook hummed, “Contextually speaking. But there are other ways, you can use your environment to assist you, you could also have another ally help or use your size to your advantage. Being smaller means being quicker. Again.”

You both tapped swords before sparring once more, Jungkook easily more aggressive this time causing you to back step until you back stepped right into the deeper snow causing you to yelp, whining out at the freezing damp sensation seeping through your dress into your skin.

“That’s not what I meant when I said use the environment.” Jungkook sighed as he rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder.

You managed to step out back onto the shallow end as you whined out, “I am perfectly aware of what you meant! I’m trying! I just can’t seem to get it…” You let out a defeated sigh as a tremor jolted through your body at catching the cold nip of breeze.

Jungkook only shook his head somewhat amused, “How about we rest for the evening and get you close to the fire once more.” His hand curling around your waist as you both walked back to camp, “You shouldn’t have such high expectations of yourself, I’ve been training since I was a child, you’ve come a long way for only training the last six months.”

“Sparring is also different then a real duel or battle,” Yoongi spoke, as he had been watching you both the last hour in amusement, “If you’re already doing this good in a spar, you’ll be able to hold your own perfectly fine in either.”

“This is also true,” Jungkook yawned as he sat down on the large mat, offering a hand to you to help you down, “The adrenaline is different, when it comes to life or death, you fight with more than your all, more than you could ever muster for a spar, even a duel.”

“I just hope it never comes to that.” You sighed with a shiver, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire.

“What matters is that you’ll be ready m’lady.” Wheein offered a kind smile as she continued, “And I agree with his Highness, you’ve improved significantly compared to when you first started, it’s something to take pride in, you’ll only improve with time.”

“The chances are slim but it never hurts to be prepared,” Yoongi chimed in once more, “Dinner is ready.”

The rest of the evening had passed with laughter and fellowship that you found yourself truly enjoying, and at some point you had tried to remember when the last time you had felt this at ease, this…at home?

Even in Eunoia, tragedy had always surrounded you during your youth, uncertainty of the war and the future as a growing lady and plunged into icy fear as a young woman, you wanted to say you had other moments of relaxation.

But you couldn’t think of a single time, except for this moment, you found yourself curling up against Jungkook, yawning as your eyes began to droop and your head resting on his shoulder.

When your eyes opened once more, you were uncertain of how much time had passed other than the indication that everyone else had departed to their tents.

Jungkook had been leaning on one hand, the other wrapped around you as he had stared thoughtfully in the fire before realizing you had awoke, “Are you ready to depart for bed?”

It was a quiet usher that made you nod with another yawn, letting him help you up as you walked over to your shared tent.

Due to the few people in your party, a circle of tents was formed, yours however just a little closer to the fire upon your request and how could you be blamed on a frigid night such as this? Even Fenrir was curled up right next to the fire, paying you both no mind as he continued to rest.

The tent wasn’t extremely spacious, but it gave you enough room to get what you needed done without being on top of one another, “Let’s get you out of this.”

“And into what?” You were more awake now than before, “Did Wheein leave me something?”

Jungkook looked down at you, a sort of boyish look on his face making you pinch him, “Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled softly grabbing your hand away from his bicep, “We have plenty of furs, and i’ll let you sleep on the fireside, it’s making me hot being that close anyways.”

“It’s too cold!” You whined out quietly.

“You really want to sleep like that?” Jungkook was already stripping himself, “I’m burning up personally.”

Your lips parted multiple times at the sight of his chiseled muscles, biceps flexing as he pulled down his pants revealing the taunt thick muscles of his thighs, even more notably his undergarments.

“Come,” Jungkook had a small smirk on his face as if knowing your eyes roamed his body despite how hard you were trying to be discreet, “Let me undress you.”

You let out a discontented noise but it was difficult to say no when he looked like this and he was looking at you like that, shuffling over you sat on your knees in front of him, Jungkook leaned forward peeling off each layer with a sort of lethargy, as if in no big hurry.

Despite the chilled air you could still feel the lick of fire through the thick cloth tent, dropping the last layer down your shoulders you shuddered, a sort of shyness creeping over you as you felt your nipples immediately hardening at being exposed.

Jungkook helped you shuffled out of the last layer, in nothing more than your panties now, “It’s freezing,” You whispered, trying hard to not let yourself feel self conscious at being close to naked in the tinted firelight that your husband could easily see, “If you’re content let’s go to bed.”

“Ah,” Jungkook immediately stopped you, eyes staying on your soft perked tits, “The cold will help keep you healthy.” He had a stupid boyish look on his face again as he leaned in, warm breath fanning along your cheek before he leaned down unable to resist parting his lips to take your left tit into his mouth.

You let out a breath louder than you intended, but the you couldn’t help it, the sharp contrast between the cold air and his warm wet tongue had your body flush with arousal, and clearly you weren’t the only one as your eyes dropped down, a solid print formed showing your husband was also feeling the same.

“Jungkook, it's too cold for this…!” You whined out quietly despite your legs immediately parting for him to sit between as he moaned against your breast, other hand squeezing your left tit as he pinched your hardened bud between his thumb and finger while suckling on the other.

You forced the moan back into your throat.

Jungkook finally released your bud from his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes full of arousal, “Well then we’ll just have to warm you up then won’t we, my goddess?” His hand slithering down your waist as he parted his lips once more your left tit, sucking harshly making you jolt.

His fingers pushing beneath your panties as his fingers dragging against your puffy slit as you let out a breathy noise legs parting further for him as you leaned back on your hands, hips shifting to give him more access to your cunt.

Jungkook was delighted by the invitation you could tell by the way he harshly sucked your bud, middle finger suddenly pushing inside you, sliding in with a slight pinch of discomfort that didn’t last long as he pushed all the way until his knuckle met with your body.

“We can’t be too loud now,” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, “So you’ll need to be a good girl for me and be quiet.”

You bit down on your lip as he pushed his index finger inside you the pinched discomfort returning the sensation of his fingers pushing in and out of your little hole had you relaxing into his touch with a soft moan, walls squeezing around his fingers with each thrust.

“Mmm that’s a good girl,” Jungkook grinned, pupils dilated in lust as he buried his fingers back inside your cunt, feeling your little walls clench around him once more before he brushed his thumb over your clit a higher pitch whine escaping you, “Ah, ah, remember,” Jungkook looked amused, “You need to be quiet if you want to cum all over my fingers princess.”

“Kook,” You whispered, eyes closed tight at the feeling of his thumb teasingly brushing over your clit, fingers buried deep inside you as your walls tightened around his digits, “Please…!”

The cold air was wrapping around your body, but the sharp contracts of his warm tongue and fingers burying inside you.

Jungkook laid you back against the fur before pulling your panties off, “You’ll get your pleasure, but you need to be a good girl and wait,” His voice was deep and soft taking off his own underwear to reveal his heavy, thick cock fully hardened, he parted your legs as you tensed cold air invading your cunt as he pushed his fingers back inside you, your clit extra sensitive from the cold with each little brush of his thumb, every little tease sent a sharp jolt of pleasure in your body.

Wet sticky arousal dripping from you little hole as you squeezed around his fingers, wiggling your hips a little with a whine, “Kook, need more..” You whispered out, not liking this slow teasing game.

“Patience,” Jungkook replied, fingers pulling out of you only a little just to thrust them back in, he did this once more, even rougher, his pace was just right, hitting that sweet little spot inside your body that your walls clenching each time as your legs twitched.

Jungkook’s free hand rubbed through your puffy wet slit before he gripped the base of his cock, a hissed grunt escaping him as he slowly pumped his base, watching the lewd act immediately made a soft moan escape you, just the idea of his fat cock inside you had you clenching hard around him as he began arithmetically thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spot.

“Fuuck you like watching me stroke my fat cock for you my love?” Jungkook let out a wicked look, his hand running all the way up his cock, thumb messily smearing his precum over his fat bulbous head before running it back down meanwhile his other hand began forcefully shoving inside your little hole greedily.

His thumb circling your clit as pleasure began shooting through your body, your eyes never leaving his cock that he squeezed tightly in his hand pumping it eagerly as his eyes flickered between your cunt sucking in his fingers needily and your face, entranced by his movements.

It made his shaft throb so bad in pleasure it hurt, he threw his head back with a low moan hips lifting as he thrusted his cock into his fist, feeling your little hole squeeze so tight around him it was difficult to move his fingers.

Jungkook locked eyes with you, that wicked look on his face, “What do you think that little ex lover of yours would say if he could see you right now?”

“Mmm! Right there…!” You whimpered out, struggling to keep your voice quiet as your legs turned limp at how rough he was thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spongy spot inside you, “Kook, right there…!”

Jungkook lifted his hips once more, fucking his fist at the way your legs lifted up, bringing them to your chest to obediently spread your cunt further for him, “Would he say I’m corrupting you right now?”

You had to bite down on your hand to fight back the whines and moans trying to escape you, “Please…! Please.” You kept muttering it, body twisting and building so fast your mind was completely blank aside from the filth Jungkook was whispering to you.

“That I’m tainting his pretty little Eunoian princess, filling her cunt up until she’s completely fucked out cumming all over my fingers?” Jungkook harshly squeezed the base of his cock, keeping his knuckles buried in your cunt as he rapidly hit into your g-spot.

Jungkook wanted to laugh at the strangled high pitched moan escaping you as you desperately tried to keep it quiet, feeling your warm little walls wrap tight around his fingers as you came, arms wrapping around your face to try and keep your cries of pleasure to yourself.

Jungkook eased you through your orgasm before pulling his fingers out of you, low breathes escaping you as your chest lifted and dropped before letting your arms drop from your face to the crude sight of Jungkook’s fingers in his mouth, eyes closed with soft moan as he licked your cum off them.

“This is the best way I could have ever relaxed.” Jungkook pulled his fingers from his mouth with a content look as he laid down next to you, your eyes however still on his hardened cock.

“But you…” You frowned.

Jungkook raised his brows before his eyes dropped to his cock before shrugging, “I don’t cum easily, a good and bad thing I guess. C’mere love.”

“How do you want me?” Jungkook’s eyes snapped back open as they met yours, as if trying to figure out if he heard you correct, “I want you to feel good too, how do you want me?”

Jungkook moaned softly closing his eyes once more, unable to look at those cute, eager little eyes of yours, basically asking to be filled up by him.

“Ride my cock.” Jungkook replied, admittedly getting difficult to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather kill himself then miss the opportunity to cum inside your pretty, puffy little cunt.

You knew what he meant, you had gathered as much the last time but you just… you awkwardly straddled him, his hands on your hips to help guide you, this wouldn’t be as difficult as last time right?

Grabbing his cock in your hand you heard a gritted hiss through his teeth, rubbing his bulbous head through your wet folds before lining him against your entrance, unlike last time you sank onto it.

Biting your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, rather than a pinch the discomfort was still moderate, but not nearly as much as the first time.

“Mmm fuck,” Jungkook moaned softly, still unable to process that he was getting to feel your warm little walls wrapping around his thick head, “Does it still hurt?”

His hands soothingly rubbed up to your waist before back to your hips, “A little,” You whispered, settling your hands on his chest, “I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

Jungkook opened his lidded eyes, trying his damn hardest to not fall asleep right now, “It’s not difficult, just a matter of practice. Sink a little lower…” Jungkook bit his lower lip a little at watching his cock sink further inside your warm cunt, “Now lift your hips like this.”

You let his hands guide your movements as you let out a soft whine, the pain subsiding as his cock began to slide inside you with ease, stuffing you so full it was difficult to believe you had something this big inside you.

Just the feeling of his heavy cock burying inside your cunt made your walls wrap tighter around him, slowly bouncing on his cock as Jungkook’s hands settled on your hips, “Fuck yeah love, just like that, riding my fuckin’ cock like you were made for it.”

His words of pleasure made you bounce a little faster, taking him a little deeper each time before his hands tightened on your hips, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you all the way down, you let out a tiny whine at being so full of cock with no warning, walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned.

Jungkook’s eyes were closed as he let out a breathy deep moan, “Could fall asleep like this every night, use my pretty little wife as my personal cock warmer, mmm keep squeezing around me like that.” He had a sleepy smirk on his face as his hands wrapped around your ass, urging you to start riding him once more.

You quickly found you loved being full of cock though, cunt split open by something so thick and heavy, excitement trilled through your body making your walls wrap tight around him as you began bouncing on his cock.

Letting out quiet moans at the feeling of his shaft hitting all the right places inside you, “Mmm yeah, oh…fuck…” You whined out softly, sitting up right as you bounced all the down his cock as you grinded against his pubic bone.

Jungkook forced his tired eyes open to the amazing sight of you, his pretty wife completely naked bouncing on his cock, tits bouncing and face fucked out, clearly pleasuring yourself now, “Make me cum,” He moaned out softly, “Let me fill that pretty little cunt up.”

You kept trying to bite back your whines as your hips became more messy in bouncing, uneven and unsteady as pleasure quickly built inside you, sinking back on his cock as your walls tightened, moaning just a hair louder as you creamed all over his cock.

Jungkook was tired, sleep near taking him the same way you took his cum, letting it shoot deep inside you as you swiveled your hips, taking every lost drop he’d give as quiet breathes filled the tent, your own eyes closed with that same unmistakable tiredness.

Jungkook let out a tired smile, “What a good girl.” He pulled you onto his chest, shifting you both to be buried beneath the blankets and furs, being skin to skin made you realize just how cold you had been.

Jungkook’s skin was like fire, hot to the touch and your own personal little fire, curling up against him, your eyes immediately fell heavy, sleep had never felt so peaceful as being skin to skin with your husband.

The journey to Kimhae had been rather uneventful and what few encounters you had with wolves and even a bear, Fenrir had easily warded them off, your baby having grown so much in the last months now standing just a little taller than your horse.

Jungkook had been up ahead chatting with Yoongi for awhile now, something regarding plans on resuming the Eastern movement when you returned from Yule.

Wheein had been riding by you for awhile now in a comfortable silence aside from a few comments to Fenrir who had been running ahead in the snow and finding random branches to be thrown, the only problem being they were too heavy for you to toss.

“Something on your mind Wheein?” You finally asked, having noticed a faraway look in her eyes for a good while now.

Her eyes met yours before she gave a small, weak smile, “Nothing incredibly important I just…” She faltered a little, “I know the past cannot be changed but, I can’t help but feel like so many events could have been avoided if it weren’t for me.”

You straightened up, frowning immediately at her words, “What would make you say that?”

Wheein hesitated to speak, “...What happened, with my execution, you…” It looked as if it was physically difficult to attempt to finish her sentence, “I know how important keeping your culture intact is for you. You’ve done nothing but try to become a Penumbrian Princess, and for you to be put in a position where you had to compromise your own personal oath and belief…” Wheein let out a shaky breath, visibly puffing in the cold air as her eyes looked watery, “I feel as though I haven’t given you a proper apology M’lady.”

Your heart felt like it was twisted, “You have nothing to apologize over Wheein. I am still mourning many things but I…I don’t regret what I did. I said it once and I will say it again, I was willing to do anything to get you back. Di Jin was the assassin who attempted to kill me, which started this entire mess…I don’t know how much you’ve heard about the Estate…”

Wheein’s lips stayed in a frown, cheeks flush and rosy from the cold wind as she adjusted her shawl, shaking her head, “Only whispers of rumors to what happened, and my own assumptions when you intervened on my execution.”

You let out a shaky sigh, trying your best to detach yourself from the memory as you recalled the events that lead up to that fateful night, “They had lured Yoongi away and I foolishly sent him in good faith that nothing would happen but…Di Jin revealed himself that night revealing that he had come to finish what he started. He almost did,” Your hand trembled as you pressed it against your chest, “Then he got closer to me, trying to kiss my neck and…I don’t know.”

And that was the funniest part, you still had vivid clips of what happened in your head, but it was all so fast, so gorey, your mind had blotted out a lot of it, “One minute he was on top of me, and the next minute I was covered in blood.”

There it was, that distinct iron on your tongue, it made you sick to your stomach, “And I didn’t stop after he was dead,” Your lips trembled as you whispered, “That’s the part that scares me the most. He was dead and I kept going, I...it was like I was possessed, unable to stop. I felt…” It felt like bile was beginning to rise in your throat as you swallowed it back, “Good. Powerful, invincible in that moment, feeling his flesh in my mouth, the taste of his blood on my tongue-”

Your hand suddenly grabbed your lips, trying to swallow back the bile which risen much faster, immediately grabbing the water satchel that hung off the saddle of your horse, taking a long drink from it to try and wash what you had just admitted away.

It had been plaguing the back of your mind every moment it was quiet, the fact that something inside you liked it, even enjoyed the depraved act, showing someone who had disrespected you and your heritage, making a mockery of it for so long, a little devil inside you secretly wishing you had finished what you had started, to devoured him the way your ancestors would.

Even now a little voice in the back of your head was thrilled by it, it never ceased to make you sick, Weak in the stomach with shame every time it crossed your mind, it felt so heretical to think let alone voice aloud, the extent of how much a secret part of you enjoyed it.

“I am so sorry Princess,” Wheein whispered, clearly hurting for you as she held back her tears, inhaling sharply, “I still can’t believe what’s happened. I’m sure being away from Penumbra will be a good break for all of us.”

“If I had just…” You had to stop yourself from saying what you wanted, you had the ability to heal Wheein’s mother, maybe if you had listened to Baba Enàir more carefully, had been more dedicated to your studies as a child…perhaps this whole thing could have been prevented if you had been the one to heal Wheein’s mother, disputing any claims, “I’ll never send you away so often like that without company, I never want to put you in such a compromising position Wheein and for that I am sorry.”

“We all have our grievances about what happened.” Wheein smiled sadly, “But what counts is that we are both alive and well, but…Something else does plague me.”

You tilted your head, patiently waiting for her to continue as she gathered her thoughts, the wind blowing her black locks of hair back as she squinted her eyes, “We still never caught who sent the assassin. What if this happens once more?”

You frowned, you had thought this as well, “Something tells me, whoever did this will try a different tactic next. We must remain vigilant, perhaps moreso in Penumbra then even in Kimhae.” You nodded in thought, “I do agree though, this will be good for all of us.”

This had become routine at night it seemed, waiting for everyone else to depart to bed before being guided back yourself, undressed by your husband’s large, warm hands, and then taken whatever way he wanted, with his hands, his tongue, his cock, you weren’t picky.

You however were starting to become used to the sensation of his cock spliting you open, his cum dripping down your thighs, an unfamiliar soreness between your legs that had a sweet ache that made you crave more.

You had never understood the idea of physical intimacy in the past, it always made your skin crawl at the idea, but then again, you never had a partner you felt you could trust like this.

More than anything, you loved being close to him like this, loved that you could be so intimate with the person you trusted more than anyone, his arms wrapped around you, laying slightly on top of your back, keeping you warm just as he promised every night.

It was odd, the comfort it brought feeling his warm cum dribbling from your little hole as you yawned, eyes closing as you dozed off in his arms.

It was still late into the night when you awoke to his lips pressing on your neck, moaning softly as his hips rutted into you, cock hardened once more much to your sleepy surprise, “Mm, need you my love.” His voice was much deeper, telling you he was also half asleep, “Dreamt of your pretty little cunt, letting me fill it up.”

“Mmm Kook.” You mumbled out, eyes closing as you felt your leg being propped further up to give him better access to your little entrance, his arms tightened around your waist as he managed to line his cock up before pushing it in.

A soft sleepy moan escaped you, an entirely new position you were acquainted with but something about it made you feel so full, his cock pushing all the way inside you until his hips were flush with yours.

Each lazy thrust of his hips had soft noises escaping you, your eyes shutting in tired bliss at his cock pushing past your little walls, filling you to the brim each time, throbbing as the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy little spot.

Jungkook moaned as he buried his cock inside you once more, his movements having paused forcing your eyes back open, was he asleep? Your walls suddenly squeezed around his cock at being so split open by him.

This elicited a moan from his lips that sounded like pure sex, “Your cunt is heaven,” He mumbled in your skin, “Could keep my cock buried inside you forever.”

Not moving was stirring you further, making you more awake as you whined, “Jungkook, move…!” You wiggled your hips a little earning a small thrust from him.

“Think I’ll asleep like this,” He moaned once more into your skin, “Like the way your cunt wraps around me like this when I’m splitting your cunt open.”

Jungkook moaned at feeling your cunt squeeze around him once more at his words, just like he had hoped, “Just go back to sleep my love,” He mumbled in your ear, hand pulling around to cup your tit in his hand as he massaged it making you whine in frustration as your hips began to pull and lift, sliding his cock in and out of your cunt just a little.

“Mmm fuuck, sweetheart go to sleep.” Jungkook’s voice was a pitch higher than before, his free hand almost guiding your hips though as you fucked back against him, and your eyes were closed but sleep was not on your mind.

Your lips parted with a soft whine at the new sensation this position gave you with him behind, his cock slide inside you just the right way brushing that sweet little spot with each bounce of your hips, it had you rapidly clenching around his cock.

Muffling your moans into your blankets as you pushed all the way back against him wiggling your hips as pleasure throbbed throughout your cunt, feeling arousal dripping from your hole as his cock slid back inside you with ease as you let out a pathetic whine, walls wrapping harsh around him but it just wasn’t quite enough to get yourself to orgasm.

Jungkook let out a sleepy chuckle, “Working yourself up are you?”

It wasn’t fair…! He woke you up and you were somehow the one falling apart on his cock desperate to cum, “Koo, please.” You whimpered out quietly, shifting yourself a little to be better able to lift your hips up to his, giving his cock better access to slid in and out of your little hole with ease.

“Mmm shit, your acting like a bitch in heat,” He moaned softly, eyes dropping to your cunt that kept backing into his cock, “You want to be fucked?” He whispered deviously in your ear.

And Jungkook knew you did, could feel the way your walls wrapped so tight around his throbbing cock, wanting so desperately to reach your climax.

“Jungkook…” You whispered urgently.

“Say it.”

You let out a frustrated noise, pausing your movement but Jungkook wasn’t having it, his hand wrapping around your neck as he gave it a harsh squeeze, letting out a small gag as his voice deepened in your ear, “Beg for it little princess, beg for me. Beg for my cock.”

Jungkook suddenly thrusted inside you, harshly making your body jolt as you whined out, shaking your head, this only made him thrust rougher causing you to squeeze around him in excitement, “Mmm like this, feels…! Good.” You whimpered out quietly, your body twitching as pleasure blossomed in your cunt, you were so close…!

Jungkook buried back inside you, stopping once more causing a louder fussy whine to escape you, his hand squeezing around your neck once more, “If you like this then you’ll love what’s next. But you need to tell me, c’mon,” His hips lazily swiveled before giving short thrusts, edging your body as your hands curled into fists, “Tell me you want my cock, that you want your pretty little cunt destroyed by me, that you want to be filled with my cum.”

You could feel saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, his cock teasing your body with such short movements it had you whimpering, “Koo’, fuck me, please…! Need you’, need your cock, anything…!”

Jungkook moaned as your quiet frantic plea’s as he suddenly pulled out of you, a sharp whine escaping you as he swatted your ass to be quiet, manhandling you onto you stomach as he kneeled between your legs you felt confused before your hips were lewdly lifted, presenting your cunt to him.

You didn’t have any time to adjust or even think before his cock pushed back inside you, a moan much louder than you meant for it to escape your lips at an entirely new, better sensation, every movement of his cock had you cunt squeezing in pleasure.

“Mmm yeah, you like being made to take it from behind?” Jungkook moaned, keeping your hips up as he thrusted inside your little entrance, watching it split open for his cock before greedily sucking it in, “Maybe this is how your little dryad kin had children? Fucking like animals?” He whispered out, hearing a gurgled whine from you only made his thrusts that much more forceful, the sound of his balls smacking into your skin music to his ears, “Being made into nothing more than a bitch desperate for cock.”

The side of your face was planted into the ground, eyes shut in pleasure at just how good it felt, his cock hitting every little sensitive spot inside you, his demeaning words that would’ve sent flames of angry through your body once upon a time only filled you with excitement, enjoying how he manhandled you how rough he was starting to thrust, no regard for whether your cunt could take it or not.

Your mind was filled with all sorts of unholy things, not realizing how much you were beginning to moan, enjoying the way he had a hand pressed into your back forcing you down on the ground, his balls smacking your skin and his cock pushing past your tight walls.

“Koo’...! ‘m gonna..! Mmm!” Your moans were gurgled, desperate, cunt rapidly squeezing around his cock, a feeling he had quickly grown to love as you crumbled beneath him, at his mercy as he roughly thrusted, burying his cock deep inside you as he quickly leaned over you, chest flush with your back as his hips became faster.

Just as you let out the whinest, loudest cry his hand covered your mouth to muffle it, tears began to build in your eyes at how powerful the pleasure was building in your body, your legs uselessly twitching and your body convulsing.

But it was all useless as his cock kept sliding in and out of your small hole, “Go on sweetheart, mm know how bad you wanna cum. I see those pathetic little tears. Cum sweetheart, cream all over my fat cock, make it nice and messy for me.”

Your body was being jolted with every thrust of his hips, your clit aching to be touched as your cunt was full of his thick shaft, his dirty words whispered in your ear making you throw a whiny pathetic fit as your walls squeezed even tighter around him, so desperate to be obedient.

“C’mon princess,” Jungkook moaned tantalizingly in your ear, his hips pounding into you with nice lengthy thrusts, wet lewd sounds coming from how soaked you were, “Can feel it, feel how bad that pretty little cunt wants to cum, squeezing around me so tight, fuuck, that’s it, c’mon.” Jungkook wasn’t intentionally edging you but god did it feel good, you were moaning and crying into his hand, tears slowly beginning to trickle down your face at how good you felt.

Not a single thought in your head other than his cock stuffing you full, purposely dragging into the little spongy spot each time just edging you a little closer each time to your release.

“Does your little pussy feel good?” He teased you, a wicked grin on his face as his hips pushed fully inside you, giving short thrusts to keep you as full of cock as possible, “You like presenting this little hole to me? Letting me fuck my seed deep inside, my pretty wife who swore she’d never let me cuff her in bed? How does it feel knowing I’m going to fill your pretty little cunt up?”

Jungkook let out a low moan, feeling your muffled voice cry out against the skin of his palm as your cunt rapidly clenched around him cumming so hard it felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head.

And Jungkook wasn’t stopping, his hips slammed into you, wet lewd sounds filling the tent and his balls smacking into your skin as he kept his hand on your mouth to keep your moans and cries of pleasure quiet, unable to subdue them yourself anymore, as the pleasure kept going, his hips jostling you around before you felt it.

“Fuck!” Jungkook growled out, burying his cock inside you as he came, roughly pumping his cock inside you as he let out a shaky moan, letting your greedy cunt suck every drop from him as he moaned, perhaps louder then even he intended.

After a few more seconds he collapsed on top of you, making you whine, sniffling as you wiped your face as you felt his hand drag to your waist, stroking it tenderly as he pressed a kiss against your neck, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pressing another kiss against your skin, “Made for me. Only me.” His hand squeezed your waist, before he laid flat on his back shifting you around to lay against him, your body curling up as you set your head against his chest.

Your thighs were aching and your hand trembled if you looked close enough as you dragged it over his chest.

And for the first time, with the fire illuminating the inside of the tent, you took the time to drag it over the rough skin of his chest and upon closer inspection noticed all sorts of marks, curiously you shifted once more.

“Was twice not enough for my little sun?” Jungkook chuckled as you straddled his waist, his hands wrapping around your hips, “We’ll need to start retiring earlier if you want me to have more stamina.”

“I’m not…!” You felt your body flush, trying to remind yourself that you were in fact naked right now, “I’m just looking.”

“Mmm, so am I.” Jungkook’s eyes trailing down your exposed body to your cunt, watching the white substance dripping out onto his skin, “If I weren’t already exhausted I’d already have you bent over again.”

“Jungkook!” You whispered out, starting to feel embarrassed now, “Stop…please.”

He let out a tired, boyish smile and staring down at him you couldn’t help but mirror it, he looked much younger like this, more like his age, eyes lidded from tiredness as his hands wrapped further, fingers digging into your ass, “Is it a crime to admire my wife? You’re only sitting on top of me naked.”

“I’ve seen you shirtless many times now,” You decided to no longer entertain his dirty thoughts, slowly lowering yourself down his chest making his fingers squeeze tighter around your ass, “But i’ve never truly paid attention.”

“To my godly physique?”

This made you both quietly laugh as you shook your head, unable to not be endeared by this new playful side of him you had never seen, “How did you know?” You whispered back, a light tease in your voice as your hand traced over his sternum, “I meant the scars…How many battles did you fight in?”

Jungkook palmed your ass in his hands, massaging the flesh as he yawned, eyes closing as he hummed potentially trying to recall, “Too many to count honestly, I was drafted before the Five Year War started as to be properly prepared.”

Your fingers traced over each scar, some long and thin, others short and deeper, few discolored still having never properly healed, others faded and hardly visibly, “How’d you get this one?” Your finger’s stopped on his left right, a circular scar it was small, as if he had been pierced.

Jungkook’s eyes slowly lidded once more, following where your fingers pressed, “When we first rode to Rolon for war, an archer shot me right off my horse, my only saving grace from death was the wind otherwise it would’ve pierced my heart, y'know it’s said the Rolon Archer’s were trained since children, they could shoot a coin from over a hundred yards away.”

“You were injured before the battle had even begun?” You whispered out, perhaps a little amused at his story.

Jungkook’s hand trailed down the back of your thigh, pulling them apart just a little making your hips brush over his skin, the feeling of wet stickiness rubbing over his skin, “It was my first endeavor by myself, my men were counting on me to lead them, you can imagine it was a pretty pathetic sight.”

“So how did you manage to siege them if you could not get close?” You tilted your head, resting your elbows down his chest, your hips appeasing him as you softly grinded down on his pubic bone.

“We had all camped outside their outer districts, preparing ourselves,” Jungkook let out a pleasured hum, eyes closed once more and fingers trailing back to your ass before settling at your steady, soft movement, “We could not get close to their borders without them shooting us down by the tens if not hundreds. And so we would have to make ourselves unknown, invisible.”

A quiet moan escaped him at the feeling of your hips pulling just a little further down just above where his cock was beginning to stir despite his own lethargy.

“Invisible?” Tiredness was beginning to pull at your lids but you enjoyed this too much, the conversation, the feeling of your puffy, cum covered slit grinding against him, making him break focus, “Surely that wouldn’t be possible?”

“Invisible to the faraway eye that is,” Jungkook’s brows pinched, fingers gripping your ass a little tighter as your hips dragged just along the base of his hardening cock, weepy and sensitive from having already came inside you twice this night, “Mmm, I didn’t think you’d be such a little lust driven succubus once we consummated.”

It made you grind him just a little harder, the feeling of his cock bobbing before it smacked against your cunt, fully hardened and precum smearing against your asscheek.

“I’m trying to have a conversation,” You teased, hands traveling over the expanse of his chest before your fingers found his dark nipples, curiously you pinched them a little, “You’re the one that’s making it sexual.”

A restrained moan escaped him as his eyes cracked open, you couldn’t help your curiosity, fascinated at his different reactions to different things, after all, you were learning his body just as much as he was learning of yours.

“Sex is dripping off of you,” Jungkook sighed, feeling your hips tease his cock once more, puffy slit rubbing down it’s base before back to his pubic bone, “I can’t help the way my body reacts to it, climbing on top of me naked isn’t a productive way to have a conversation.”

You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly, relishing in the feeling of his heady, heavy cock dragging through your puffy slit, coating it in a mixture of your wetness and cum.

Feeling his shaft rubbing into your sensitive clit was you let out a soft moan, “You didn’t continue your story. How were you invisible.” Your hips dragged back to his pubic bone, pausing your movement to try and refocus your conversation.

Jungkook let out a displeased sound, fingers digging against your ass once more, “If you want to hear my stories, keep entertaining me.”

“Can you stay focused?” You gave him a mischievous smile, slowly pulling back up to your elbows, his eyes immediately on your tits.

“As long as you don’t make me cum,” Jungkook retorted right back, a cocky grin on his face, “Well?” You tried not to shy away from his expression as your hips slowly began rubbing on him once more, teasing the base of his cock as he let out a soft pleasured moan, eyes slowly closing once more to enjoy the feeling as he recalled, “I proposed to my men that we would camouflage ourselves with the terrain, we covered ourselves in mud and moss, whatever greenery we could and crawled on the earth to evade their eyes.”

His fingers dragged down to the back of your thighs once more as your hips dragged a little lower down his shaft as your clit throbbed making a soft moan escape you, “That’s how you managed to siege their capitol Montclair?”

His fingers pulled your thighs apart, opening your slit a little more as it rubbed along is shaft back to his base, “Mmhm, like that,” He whispered out at feeling your hips pause at the base of his cock, wiggling a little to push it further between the lips of your cunt.

Silence had suddenly taken over as your eyes shut, enjoying being able to pleasure your husband as your hips slowly rode the base of his cock, letting it slip against your lips and rub along your clit.

This type of pleasure was slow, tantalizing, making his hips rut a little, gliding with ease against your soaked cunt, “What about this one.” Your fingers briefly brushed along his left breast, a long wicked line crossing it as you slowed your hips back down.

“Training accident when I was younger,” Jungkook murmured out, sounding half asleep, “I had assumed Hoseok was going for a lower strike but he tricked me, he got too close and accidentally sliced me right across the chest, it was a larger wound when it had first happened.”

Jungkook had a faint smile on his lips as his hands dragged to your waist, keeping a firm grip to encourage your hips, his eyes pulled open only a little, “He wouldn’t stop crying while profusely apologizing to me, saying he’d do anything to keep the wrath from my father at bay.”

“Did he hear about it?” Your moan was mixed with your soft laugh, grinding down as your clit dragged against his skin.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, “No, it only went as far as my aunt. She merely laughed it off, saying it was good practice for the real deal.”

You paused your movement, hands tracing down his particularly slim waist, just at the bottom of his ribcage, “And this?”

You lifted yourself up as Jungkook opened his eyes, “No looking.” You whispered out.

This made him confused before he let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes once more, “I’ve seen it already princess, you can’t hide anything from me at this point.”

“I’m…testing…it’s lewd.” You tried not to be embarrassed as you sat down on his taunt, thick muscular thighs, legs still parted as you situated your cunt against his base once more, “How did you get that scar?” You prompted him once more.

Jungkook seemed to be having an increasingly harder time focusing as he felt it, your cunt making contact with the sensitive underside of his cock, your hips lifting to drag against his shaft, “It was when we attempted war with Kyoto, I was in the frontlines with the other underlings and an assassin of Kyoto had made his way into the trenches.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched as he felt your hand wrap around the head of his cock, giving short as he let out a breathy moan, hand running through his hair, “He was a full grown man and we were nothing more than boys pretending to be men. His sword longer than us all,” He bit down on his lip at your hand squeezing his cock, your cunt sliding against his base, “He cut two of the other underlings in half with just one swing, I was almost the third, I had barely managed to jump back in time but the tip of his blade still cut through me, blood was everywhere.”

“How did you live?” You whispered out, sadness somewhere deep inside you filled your heart through the haze of lust.

“Jimin had managed to jump on his back,” Jungkook let out another breath moan at feeling your hand drag down his cock, “Stabbed him in the neck, he choked on his own blood as they all rushed to get first aid for me. I almost bled out that night but by some miracle they had managed to stop the bleeding and get me stitches.”

Jungkook groaned as his hands curled into fists, pleasure becoming much stronger than it was supposed to, “Enough please.”

The movements ceased, “Does it not feel good?”

“It feels too good, I told you to not make me cum.” Jungkook sighed softly in relief as he felt you change positions back to your original, the weight of your body situated once more fully on top of him, “Mmm warm my cock.”

“I don’t understand how that works.” You whispered out, a bit embarrassed, you were a fast learner but you still didn’t know all the ends and outs of how all of this worked.

This made Jungkook laugh softly, endeared at your words as he forced his tired eyes back open, “It’s simple honestly, sit on my cock, let it stay warm inside you. I’ll be able to focus and recall events more better that way.”

“Really?” You replied skeptically.

“Mhm, what else do you want to know?” Jungkook let a crooked smirk tug on his lips as you grabbed the base of his cock, obediently doing as he told you, the fat head pushing inside you, a noise escaping you both.

Slowly you slid down his cock until your hips were flush with his, “Mmm, what now?” It was hard to focus now having him stuffing you so full.

Jungkook let out a long content sigh, “Nothing, this is it. Ask away.”

His hands lovingly stroked your hips as you suddenly struggled to speak, feeling his fat large cock throbbing inside you, walls clenching around him as your arousal dripped.

Jungkook let out an amused breath, “Cat got your tongue?”

You shook your head, slowly leaning back down to rest yourself on his chest, but somehow laying made your body feel even more full, “This one?” Your words were soft, trembled with a quiet whine, fingers brushing over his right bicep, a thin long line curving around it.

Jungkook’s hands stroked your waist before trailing over your back, “It happened during our siege of Prokiev, the battle happened overnight and it was dark out, fire my only source for my fight with their royal guard captain, our adrenaline was running out and we were both ragged, he threw a sloppy blow aiming for my chest but I moved away and back, the edge of his blade managed to pierce right through my chainmail. It wasn’t a serious injury.”

Jungkook let out a soft pleasured sigh at your little walls clenching around him, seemingly unable to relax with him buried this deep and unmoving in your cunt, “It serves as a reminder though.”

“To what?” You whispered out, setting your head down on his chest, biting down on your lip once more, trying so, so hard to focus on his words and not his cock, it felt like he was completely stretching you out, hitting all the way up into your stomach though surely that wasn’t possible.

Even if it felt like it was.

“That many want me dead, sharpening their blades that even a shallow cut could one day maim me or better yet kill me. Sometimes I wonder how I survived,” Jungkook murmured, eyes closing as he fought the sleep off, “Each of these scars is proof that I’m still here, that somehow despite all of the odds, whether it was pure luck, or pure skill, I lived another day. Learned, grew from my mistakes.”

Your eyes had fallen shut, tiredness pulling you into a lull as you felt a blanket being pulled over you, engulfing you in warmth once more.

You let out a ghost of a whine at feeling the slightest rut of his hips, cock making sure it was buried as far inside you as possible, Jungkook pressed a kiss against your head, “Something above let me live, let me marry you, the love of my life.”

Your eyes had become heavier with each passing gentle press of his lips, you had soon fallen asleep to the sweet sensation of his lips feathering your skin, hands stroking your side, cock keeping you full and ushers of love on his lips.

While the journey had been safe and overall good travel, to say you were relieved to be in Kimhae was an understatement, the air was cold, but it didn’t have that wet sharp feeling it did in Penumbra, and only a bit of frost covered the ground now.

Your thickest layers were shedded during travel as it got warmer much to your relief, more than anything you were ready to see your family, and even more so ready to sleep in a proper bed and rest.

You couldn’t voice it aloud to anyone but your thighs were sore from not only riding your horse but also from other nefarious activities late into the night, you were absolutely ready to stand on your own two feet for the next week.

Upon entering the gates of Kimhae the sight was familiar enough to you, elegant towering buildings, busy towns people who all seemed to pause from their business at the sight of not just you but your husband, whispers broke out and if your life in Penumbra had helped you with one thing, it was being able to ignore the stares.

Riding next to your husband as you made your way through the capitol until you arrived at the large gates of the palace, the courtyard open and lush, what you hadn’t expected was the sight of someone so familiar and yet…now had become a total stranger to you.

Kim Seokjin, the man you had once thought was the love of your life, only to realize that this was a feeble, childish type of love, the type of love you think is love until you truly fall in love.

He stood tall and proud as his eyes locked onto your figure, standing in white double buttoned vest and long sleeve, royal blue cape cascading behind him dramatically.

He looked like something out of a fairytale and you couldn’t deny Seokjin was just as handsome as you remembered, clean cut and warm skin.

Coming to a stop, your vision of him was somewhat blocked by your husband, and for the first time seeing them almost side by side made you realize just how different they were, Jungkook dawned in all black, hair array from travel and longer then when you had first met, well overdue for a trim.

His look, all too familiar, neutral but often coming across as dark and brooding to a person who wasn’t well acquainted with him.

And you supposed you must have seemed different from your old self as well, you no longer wore flowery apparel light apparel, now often dawned in black and maroons, today no different though you had gone without the fuss and feathers to make travel easier, a plain black gown with an under layer of red peeping out, sleeves dramatically long but slits having formed to make movement easier, another white long sleeve layer beneath to keep you warm as well as curl up to your neck.

Jungkook had already dismounted his horse, holding his hands out to you as you stood up in your saddle, pulling your leg over before you felt the security of his hands wrap around your waist, lifting you down safely.

You offer him a tiny smile of thanks as you turn to face Seokjin, the hand staying curled around your waist however did not go unnoticed by you as you both walked to greet your ex-lover.

“Seokjin, I cannot thank you enough for your invitation,” You gave him a soft smile, perhaps a sort of soft spot for him still lingered in your chest, after all, while your love might not have been deep, it was something, and you’d take it for what it was, “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, I’m relieved to see you alive and well, it’s been too long.” Seokjin’s eyes were locked onto you and only you, and briefly you felt a sort of severed connection.

His eyes drilling into you with a sort of passion that you only blinked at with a friendly polite smile, him taking your hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, “Truthfully I don’t think enough time has passed.”

Your hand was suddenly snatched away by a much larger one, Jungkook’s expression had quickly gone from neutral to one hundred percent leering and unfriendly, that typical icy Jeon glare as he spoke coldly, “Kim Seokjin.”

Seokjin’s eyes burned into the sight, Jungkook’s hand holding onto your own in a sort of protective manner, as if he assumed the man’s kiss to your hand would maim you.

“Jeon Jungkook.” Seokjin’s eyes twisted into a glare, but it simply didn’t have the same bite as Jungkook’s, “I can’t say I remember inviting the Jeon’s.”

“Interesting you say that,” Jungkook replied, a haughty cold look on his face, “Given one found its way to my wife,” He glanced down at you, a squeeze of his hand on your waist and his hand releasing your own only for his fingers to trace your jawbone, “Only the most beautiful Jeon.”

Jungkook’s thumb tugged at your lower lip and you couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze, somewhat flustered at such an open display of affection, “What my husband means to say is we’ve come here to represent Penumbra together, I hope this will be the first of many Yule’s we can all come together and celebrate the Rite of Peace.”

You could tell by Seokjin’s gritted smile that whatever he had anticipated this was not it, it softened however as his eyes landed on you, “For you, I’d do anything Y/n.” His gaze became more sharp as they locked back onto Jungkook, “...And I suppose that goes for you as well. I hope your stay in Kimhae treats you well.”

“As do I.” Jungkook retorted, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to rest after our journey.”

You briefly glanced up at Jungkook, brow furrowing in a little bit of annoyance, you understood that Jungkook absolutely did not like Seokjin in the least, but couldn’t he be a little more discreet about it?

This being your first public appearance as a couple meant you’d have to be careful how you presented yourselves, if he wanted to quarrel with the man you did not care as long as he did it in private where prying eyes and ears couldn’t witness it.

“Of course,” Seokjin almost sneered at him, making you shuffle a bit uncomfortable at seeing the men nearly bearing teeth at one another, “My head maid will show you to your room.”

Seokjin gave you one last look, and you couldn’t quite describe it, it was one of yearning and longing, and yet it wasn’t reciprocated as you allowed Jungkook to lead you both into the palace following behind the maid.

“What was all of that about?” You whispered reprimanding to Jungkook.

Jungkook only looked ahead, “He touched you.”

“...He was being polite.” You reasoned, you had never seen such displays from Jungkook before- well aside from the time Claudin had taken your hand.

Come to think of it, you supposed this was less rash then when he pressed a knife into Claudin’s neck for so much as grabbing your hand to kiss, truthfully you should be thankful it didn’t escalate so quickly to that.

Stepping into your guest room you paused, realizing this was the room you used to stay in when you were a maiden...Seokjin probably still has the route memorized…had he thought you’d come to Kimhae alone?

You shook the ridiculous notion away as you took your cloak off, Jungkook shut the door to your shared room, “He touched you.” He emphasized it.

You turned around, raising your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at, Jungkook huffed, “Men who touch women like that aren’t being friendly.”

“It was my hand!” You pouted, “You’ve touched my hands plenty of times.”

“And look where it led.” Jungkook countered as he took his own outer apparel off, “That’s just the way it goes. And perhaps because I also know you’ve sucked his cock-”

“Jungkook!” You cried out, embarrassment flooding through you, “Don’t say it so loud!”

This made Jungkook chuckle as he sat on the foot of the bed, “Hmm, you’ve never sucked my cock before come to think of it.” He laughed even louder at suddenly being hit with the cloak you launched at him.

“I am tired and taking a nap, you can either join me or sleep on the floor if you keep being crude.” You kicked your riding shoes off as you pulled the covers curling up in bed, his body immediately beside you, arms wrapping around your waist.

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook replied, snickering into your shoulder, “You’re easy to tease.”

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader smut #prince!jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook x you

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honeybeefae · 11 months

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Quiet as a Mouse (Azriel x Reader)

Summary// You had been sent by your father to go sift through Azriel’s room in the Court of Nightmares to see if there was anything useful they could use against him. It went against your morals, which was rare in your court, but you also didn’t want to be tortured for the next week so you decided to go in and out quickly. However, the last thing you expected was for the Shadowsinger to be there and catch you right after his shower.

(IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING BUT I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN THIS ONE LOVES. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did bc sheesh it’s a hot one. This is like no fluff whatsoever, just pure fucking sex from the Spymaster.)

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, slight dub!con(?), Az gives her a choice between sex and torture so, but reader DEF wants the sex, bondage, pet names, dom!Azriel, sub!reader, Az’s got a lil sadistic side of him, edging, rough sex, shadow play, dark!Azriel, begging, knife play, this is like DARK but SO hot, you have been warned

You had been sent to sift through the Shadowsinger’s room in the Court of Nightmares. It wasn’t that you wanted to, you were terrified of him. No, you were here under threat of torture from your own family.

They were desperate to find some dirt, some stain, about Rhysand and his group to use against them. It was a foolish, stupid plan that you were extremely against but your opinion did not matter to them. The only thing that did was how quiet you could move around and be near undetectable.

Keir was in cahoots with the whole plan and had even given you a pathway to get to the secluded area. Of course, he would reap some of the benefits of whatever you were able to find, no good deed goes without a greedy hand to snatch half of it.

You had been promised that the Shadowsinger would be gone when you arrived, busy with torture or maiming or whatever it is the illusive man did in his spare time. Rhysand and Feyre were busy with Keir in the great hall and seeing as you were as memorable as a vase in a far corner, this plan should be foolproof.

So why were your palms sweating and your heart racing as if you were running against the clock of your death?

“Come on, come on.” You whispered to yourself, trying your best to be quick and neat. The last thing you wanted was for him to suspect someone had been here. “Something. Anything. Please.”

But there was nothing of substance. The drawers were full of clothes and sheaths. The desk in the corner was bare bones. It was almost eerie how clean this room was.

You had been in here for far too long and with one final look around, you decided to throw in the towel. There was nothing here for you to expose. Surely your family would understand, right? They couldn’t kill you.

Just as you were walking across the room to the door, a loud slam reverberated around you. It suddenly got a few degrees warmer and you were so terrified that you felt like you were going to wet yourself.

Steam rolled past, fogging up the mirror slightly that was in front of you. It took everything in your power not to scream as you made eye contact with a very wet and shirtless Illyrian.

His wings were slightly open, water droplets hitting the floor as a white towel hung loosely over his hips. You couldn’t stop your gaze from flicking downwards at his stomach, briefly admiring his beauty before moving back up to his face.

Immediately you were drawn into the mysterious air around him, your eyes captivated by the shadows that were curling around his shoulders and neck. The tattoos that marked his skin were an inky black that paired well with his tan skin.

You tensed when a small smirk graced his face, his head tilting to the side as he studied you.

“Can I help you, little mouse?”

Fuck.

“Yes, I mean, no,” You quickly scrambled for words, sweat forming on your forehead as you slowly backed away from his intimidating form. “I was in the wrong room, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s funny considering this is the only room in this hallway.” He mused, raising an eyebrow as his scarred hands tightened their hold on his towel. “Lie better.”

“I was, I swear.” You gulped, your back hitting the door as your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. A brief thought of it bursting through your ribcage flashed across your mind as you grasped the door handle and turned it. “I’ll just leave.”

You barely got an arm out the door before something dark and heavy wrapped around your waist and yanked you back inside. The scream that ripped out of your throat was quickly smothered as a hand covered your mouth, your eyes widening in terror when Azriel’s face appeared inches from your own.

He had used his shadows to pull you back in and shove you into the wall, the coolness of them making your skin prickle. You could see the sadistic glint in his eyes as he took you in, eyes running unabashedly over your body.

“You know better than to run, mouse.” Azriel hummed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “What were you doing in my room?”

The nausea building in your stomach from your nerves was threatening to turn into vomit as you weighed your options. If you tell him the truth and he spares you, he would go after your family, but if you lied it was sure to be torture from him and you knew the stories did not lie.

“My patience is growing thin. Answer me.” He warned and you mumbled into his hand, taking a deep breath when he removed it so you could speak.

“My father sent me here to find something to use against you, I don’t know what.” You confessed, voice wobbling, as tears sprang in the corner of your eyes. “They told me if I didn’t do it they would torture me, sell me off, and I was scared. Please, please don’t hurt me.”

If you were supposed to feel shame in begging for your life there was none. You would get on your knees and kiss his feet if it meant you didn’t die with a blade in your chest. Azriel stared into your eyes for far too long, trying to see if there was any hint of a lie, and stepped back when he saw no deception.

Your hands caught you as you fell to your knees, head hanging down as you silently thanked the Mother that he let you go. It was a miracle you hadn’t pissed yourself from how close to death you were. You tried to rise but frowned when you found yourself still bound by his shadows, your head snapping up to watch him in confusion.

“Did you think you would get off that easy?” He asked smugly. “You broke into my room, my refuge, and went through my things. Do you not think that warrants a punishment?”

Whatever happiness you had just been feeling came crashing down. You shouldn’t have been so naive in thinking he would just let you go free. Azriel’s entire reputation was built off of torture, pain, and sadism.

The room seemed to be closing in on you as you bit down on your bottom lip. You weren’t going to make it home, you were going to die for something so fucking stupid. This was how it ended.

“Just make it quick.” You said softly, shoulders slumping in defeat. “That’s all I ask.”

Silence was heavy in the air for a few tense seconds before his laughter made you jump. You furrowed your brows at him, shocked and angry that he thought your life was something to laugh at.

“Do you think I am going to kill you? Is that what you consider a punishment?” His hazel eyes were bright with humor as your frown deepened.

“I just thought-”

Without warning you were suddenly lifted by his shadows so that you were at eye level, his lips turned upward in a smirk that made your heart hammer and sex throb. Now is not the time.

“I’m not going to kill you, little mouse. I’ve got a far more…pleasurable idea of torture in mind.” He purred, watching as your eyes immediately dropped to the growing erection that his towel was barely concealing. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, can’t think, can’t do anything besides say, ‘yes sir’.”

Your nostrils flared as he snaked a hand through your hair and grabbed the base of your neck, his lips brushing against your own. The scent of arousal was thick as you suppressed a moan. He had just gone from threatening your life to wanting to wreck you in seconds, your mind trying to play catch up.

“You will be bound, gagged, and used for my pleasure. That’s your punishment…if you want it.” Azriel shrugged, his jaw tensing. “Or I could turn you into your High Lord and he can decide. Which would you rather do?”

“I…” Your voice was airy as you slowly got high on his scent, logic walking out the door as you swallowed thickly. “I want the first one.”

“Which one? I want you to say it.” He growled, his grip on your hair tightening painfully.

“I want you to, to fuck me, sir.” You blushed, not used to using such filthy language. “To bound me and gag me and use me, as you said.”

Azriel’s smile turned feral as his shadows let you go, his hands catching you before you could fall. You were sure there would be bruises from his grip as he whispered, “You asked for it, little mouse.”

Before you could even ready yourself his lips were on yours, his mouth hot and demanding as you bent to his whim. One of his hands was digging into your upper arm while the other grabbed the base of your neck, holding you still so he could dominate you.

His tongue mingled with your own as you closed your eyes and tried to hold yourself together. You were still shaking from fear but slowly your panties were growing more and more damp from how good he smelled and tasted. No male in the Court of Nightmares had ever made you this wet this quickly.

You sneakily tried to move your hand to palm his cock through the towel but his shadows caught you before you could even touch him, the cool mist tightening around your wrists until you whimpered in pain. Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, snapping his fingers and pointing at the ground.

Before you could register his command the shadows already forced you into the position he wanted, your knees aching when they hit the floor as your hands were moved behind your back and kept together at an uncomfortable angle.

“You must be mad if you think you have any control in this bedroom.” Azriel murmured as he brushed his scarred knuckles against your cheek softly, smirking when you leaned into the touch. In a flash he gripped your hair into a makeshift ponytail, enjoying the way you winced then gasped as he dropped the towel. “I own you. You do as I say when I say it. Every flinch of pain, every whimper of pleasure, it’s mine You’re mine. Now open.”

The sight of his cock standing proudly in front of you, the skin the same color as the rest of him with a dark pink head that was already wet from his excitement, made you drool. It was long, longer than you had ever had, with a nice girth to it that promised you the fuck of your life. You had barely registered his words until he grasped it in his hands and slapped it against your mouth roughly, smearing the precum on your lips until you opened wide.

Azriel wasted no time in shoving it down your throat, using your hair as leverage to move you back and forth until he was fucking your mouth. There was no gentle build-up, no praises. It was just raw and hard, his balls slapping against your chin as you gagged and slobbered over him.

“Fuck, that’s it, little mouse. Take it all the way down.” He growled, head thrown back in utter bliss as you were forced to take everything he gave you. Tears were wetting your cheeks from both the brutality of his thrusts and the angle of your hands.

But this was also the hottest thing you had ever experienced…and he was only getting started.

You were squirming from side to side in need, trying to get any friction you could to curb the ache deep in your sex. Your tongue swirled around his dick whenever he stilled long enough for you to do so, tasting the saltiness of him and feeling pride when he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

His wings flared as he started to draw closer to his peak, your throat sore and scalp numb from how violent he was treating you. The sounds coming out of you were something you would hear in a brothel, spit dripping down your chin as you tried to keep your eyes on his face.

He was using you as his fucktoy, purely for his pleasure, and you were happy to let him. This started as a way out of getting your throat slit but as the minutes passed on he had you drunk off of him and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Mm, shit,” He panted, hazel eyes glowing in the dark of the room as his thrusts started to grow sloppy. “You’re gonna drink every last drop of what I give you, understand? I don’t want any spilling out.”

“Mmph!” You tried to nod, barely able to make a sound as Azriel growled low in his throat as he began to spurt into your mouth. It was a lot, more than you expected, but you drank it down just as he asked. The taste was tangy, a mix you couldn’t quite place but you weren’t complaining about.

He held you still for a few moments after he was done, his cock twitching back to life as you struggled to breathe. You felt your binds vanish at the same time he pulled out of your throat, your hands hitting the floor as you coughed violently and tried to gulp down any air you could.

It was a short-lived respite however as he hoisted you up and pushed you roughly onto his bed. The covers were midnight black and soft as velvet, the material feeling heavenly underneath your fingers as you grasped onto it when he appeared above you in a flash.

“I think you are overdressed.” He smiled roguishly, moving away from you for a moment before reappearing with his blade. Your heart skipped a beat as he pressed the tip against your throat, fear and adrenaline making your head spin. “This should help.”

The dagger sliced through your clothing like it was better. There was little resistance and in the back of your mind, you thought about how easy it would be for him to slice you into ribbons. Your breath hitched when he arrived at your pants, choosing instead to roll them off himself.

You were now naked on the bed save for your panties, your nipples hardening underneath his stare. He was giving nothing away and you would’ve thought you weren’t affecting him except for the fact his dick was once again hard. Azriel licked his lips and grabbed his blade once more, watching you with a sadistic glint in his eyes as he hooked the top of your panties with the edge of it.

A small whimper of fear left your throat, your eyes closing as you felt him tug. One wrong move and he would mutilate you. He gave an airy laugh at your reaction, raising an eyebrow as he kept the dagger close to your cunt even after discarding your panties.

“Are you scared, little mouse?” Azriel asked, watching as your eyes peeked open at him. He twirled the blade between his fingers, contemplating, before looking back at you. “Are you?”

“No…”

“Don’t lie to me. I already warned you once.”

Your hands trembled as you gave him a small nod, eyes widening when he took the hilt of his dagger and dragged it down your sex. The cool metal and leather gave you a unique sensation that made you involuntarily buck your hips, the friction giving you exactly what you’d been craving since this whole thing had begun.

“Careful, careful, little mouse.” He warned as he started to rub small circles over your clit. The sheets underneath you were quickly becoming wet from your arousal as you got off on the feeling of lust and fear. “One wrong move and this could go a completely different way.”

“P-Please,” You whispered, your eyes closing as you tried your best to keep your hips still. “I need it, I’ve been so good.”

He scoffed and pulled away, ignoring your cry of frustration. “You broke into my room, looking for something to use against me, and you think you deserve any pleasure?”

You knew he had a point but you also knew you really, really, wanted to cum. Azriel must have thought that you looked a mess because he returned the blade to your cunt within a few seconds except he went lower, and lower, until it was pushing against your aching hole.

Before you could rise up you felt his shadows return and hold your arms down just as he shoved the entire leather hilt into your pussy, the cool metal of the actual blade barely brushing against your outer sex. You didn’t know whether you should try to get away or fully submit that this was what you wanted, what you craved, but luckily for you, that choice was already being made for you.

Azriel had taken note of how desperate you were being, the way you tried to hump the floor earlier when you were blowing him, and also how you ground against the bottom of his dagger. It didn’t take much to make you a mewling mess and that did wonders for his ego.

“You are going to stay perfectly still.” He ordered you, lazily thrusting it in and out of you. It was making a wet squelching sound that made your ears go hot in embarrassment. “If you move at all this will cut you and I won’t apologize.”

“Azriel…” You moaned, your brain fuzzy as your tried to listen to his instruction. He smirked and picked up the pace, watching as you thrashed your head left and right. “I can’t do it, I can’t.”

“You can and you will.” His voice was dripping with authority and desire as he started to rub your clit with two fingers, matching the dagger movements which had you seeing white. You could feel your pussy clenching around it, wishing it was his cock instead, and before you could stop yourself you raised your hips.

The growl he let out in warning made your eyes snap open, his forearm coming down to pin you down so that you couldn’t move. You bit down on your lip, the pleasure growing to be too much, before you couldn’t contain your cries anymore.

“Let me cum, please! Please, Azriel! I’ll be good I swear! I can listen, I can be a good girl.” You rambled, your toes curling as your orgasm threatened to consume you entirely. He was making sure to keep you on the edge, making you toe the line of pleasure and pain, and was hoping you would break entirely.

“Do you think good girls get off on being fucked like this? Hm? Do you think good girls moan like whores while being fucked with a blade?” Azriel taunted, his lips right by your ear as your cries increased in volume. “You’re not a good girl, mouse, you’re a dirty whore. You’re my dirty whore.”

“No, no, I’m a good-” You tried to protest but he gave a particularly hard thrust into your cunt, the hilt hitting that spongy spot inside of you.

“Say it. Say it and you can cum.” He promised, grinning as you immediately caved to his wishes.

“I’m a dirty whore.” You sobbed brokenly, body flushed and sweaty from how long he had kept you on the edge. Your thighs were shaking with how badly you wanted to cum. “I’m, I’m,” You panted between words. “I’m your dirty whore, Azriel. Please.”

The last please sounded like it came from someone begging for their life and honestly, you felt like you were. You felt like if you didn’t cum in the next ten seconds you would die. Azriel gazed at you for a moment, his hand stalling, before he kissed you fiercely and fucked that blade into you at lightning speed.

Your orgasm hit you fast and hard, stealing the breath from your very lungs as you opened your mouth to scream only for his own to swallow them. Between his shadows and his arm across your stomach you were unable to move, forced to let the waves of ecstacy break your very foundation as your pussy spasmed around the hilt.

He pulled away from the kiss and tore his dagger from your still spasming cunt, his teeth bared in a feral way as he gripped his cock tightly and slapped against you. You were still coming down from your high, barely recgonzing the change in position until he filled you up in one smooth thrust of his hips.

“Fuck!” You yelped, your walls sensitive as he fucked you like a beast. His wings were now fully extended, covering the two of you in a warm cocoon, before he surged forward and started attacking your neck with bites and harsh kisses. “Azriel, please, it’s too much!”

“You can take all of me, little mouse. This cunt was made for me.” He groaned into your neck, one of his hands coming up to start fiddling with your bundle of nerves. “Damn you’re so tight, so fucking tight and wet for me.”

You knew he was trying to force you into another orgasm but you were still recovering from your first one. Between that, the fear of the night, and how shocked you were at how much you enjoyed him fucking you with his dagger, you didn’t know if you had another one for him. It felt like you were going to burst into a million stars.

But Azriel knew you could and even if you wouldn’t…he would make sure you did so he could feel you explode around him. He would tear the world apart to feel it.

His dick was hot inside of you and just the right length to hit you g-spot repeatedly, taking you to a whole other universe of pleasure combined with his calloused fingers on your clit. Pain and pleasure were dancing with each other deep in your soul as you started to feel that familiar tingle rise up once more.

“I can feel you clenching around me. I know how bad you want this, how good of a dirty whore you want to be for me.” He grunted, his pupils blown wide as he pinched your cheeks between his fingers until your mouth was forced open. “You want it so bad, don’t you? Look at how much of a wreck you are, how fucked out you look right now.”

“Ah, ah, ple-ah!” You tried to talk but it was all garbled together from the hold he had on your face. You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore but he did. He knew exactly what you needed.

Azriel’s face twisted in bliss as his balls tightened. He was riding that wave, his wings practically vibrating, and all he needed was that last push of you coming undone around him. You gasped when he let go of your face only to scream when he buried his head in your neck and bit down. The pain of it, of his canines piercing your skin, along with the rhythmic fucking of your cunt sent you to the heavens.

Your entire body tightened up before releasing in a full body shudder, your head thrown back in pleasure as you felt yourself squirt around his cock. Azriel barely lasted the first spasm of your pussy before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that bruises immediately appeared.

The world around you faded into darkness as you succumbed to the numbing rapture he had given you. You lost track of time and space, your eyes closed as you felt him continung to fuck you even as his cock softened. He slowly rose up and folded his wings, smirking as he reveled in his work.

His cum was dripping out of your abused hole, the sheets and his thighs soaked from your cum, while your face was wistful. It was probably the best fuck of his life, he couldn’t lie, and as he watched you he felt his cock stirring once more.

Azriel couldn’t get enough of you.

Two arms wrapped underneath your armpits and lifted you up until you were resting against his warm chest, whispering praises as you floated back into your body. You blearily blinked up at him, watching as he realized you were back before his lips turned up in a smile.

“I think it’s time for the reinforcement part of the punishment, little mouse.”

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - PART 2

Pairing - Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary - When you were attacked in your own home, you confined yourself with Jonathan to help you heal. Until you learn a sickening truth that changes everything.

Warnings - extreme NON-CON, dub con, rough sex, drugging, physical abuse, dead dove do not eat, manipulation, controlling, just really bad.

Word count - 7.8k +

Notes - Andddddddddd here it is. Posting it before I regret my decision. I've never written something so mentally dark so I don't know how I feel. So please listen to the warnings! And unfortunately I wrote too much so there will be a third and hopefully last part...

When you woke up in the morning, your skull felt like a nail and your throbbing migraine was the massive hammer banging against it. But it was nothing compared to the weight of regret and dubiety on your chest. Despite your intoxicated state, you could remember the details all too perfectly, the two of you, together. As your eyes fluttered open, you hesitantly looked beside you to find the bed empty. A slight sensation of relief ran through you as you regained full consciousness.

It was just past nine in the morning and you were desperately hoping that Jonathan had work. But even though the silence was loud, the anxious pit in your stomach was telling you otherwise. Jonathan would be lurking around somewhere, waiting for your arrival. After what felt like an eternity of beating yourself up inside your head, regretting the night, regretting how much you seemed to enjoy yourself, you realized that you had to face him. You looked down to your body under the sheets and saw that you were in his shirt and your underwear. Dried fluids painted over the skin of your thighs.

Crawling out of the bed, you looked around for your clothes but couldn’t find them anywhere. They were probably in the wash, he was such a clean freak. Your fingers were like brushes as you combed through your hair. Daring to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but to feel like a cheap whore. Quickly, you looked away from your frame and blinked hard. Tiptoeing to the door and down the hallway, you could hear the frypan sizzle and smell the fresh eggs and bacon cooking. Perhaps you could creep out the door before he could even notice your woke.

You didn’t want to see him. Your mind was a thunderstorm in the making. Everything felt so confusing, you couldn’t get a grasp on your thoughts, you needed time to think. It was frightening, seeing how infatuated he truly was by you. But at the same time, you felt wanted, you secured. You felt the power running through your blood. How easily you could make him bend for you. No, that’s what you wanted to believe.

You brought out the best in Jonathan. His generosity, kindness, preserveness. But you also brought out the worst in him, his jealousy, possessiveness, demands, ownership. That was all confirmed last night. No matter how he projected it to look, they were the elements in his hands.

Jonathan’s head turned back at the creak underneath your foot. He was already fully dressed. Jonathan always dressed so proper, his trousers snatched his waist and sleeves of his white button up were rolled to his elbows. A wide smile instantly grew on his lips as he approached you without hesitation. It was like the sight of an innocent child, the look on his face as he was closing into the distance. “Oh, you’re awake darling” Jonathan greeted, wrapping his arms around you before you could even comprehend his behavior.

Jonathan’s state of happiness couldn’t notice your stiffness underneath him. Breathing in your scent, he pressed his lips by your earlobe. “Forgive me, you know that my brilliance does not major in culinary, but I thought I’d just whip something up for you. To help with the hangover” Jonathan continued with a chuckle, a great look of contentment as his hand stroked your hair.

It’s bewildering with how it already felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. “Johnny” you whispered very faintly, his nose now pressed against your hair as he continually breathed in your scent deeply. This was pure torture, would someone put an end to your misery?

“Did you want coffee? Juice? Water would be a safe option” he murmured, guiding you deep into the kitchen so he could lower the heat on the stovetop.

“Johnny” You repeated more forcefully but still nothing. He was so caught up in his thoughts that for once he didn’t even bother to read your body language. Jonathan opened up the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. “Jonathan!” You shouted, your nostrils flaring from frustration as your arms trembled.

Jonathan froze momentarily, back stiff and jaw clenched, as if he had already seen what was going to occur. He put the juice back into the fridge and shut the door before turning back to you with a stern expression as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yes darling?” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow to you as his eyes stared you up and down, examining your expression and body language. “Oh, yes, a great hangover indeed. Migraine? I’m sure I would be able to find something to help with that” he attempted to switch the conversation, flashing a smug smirk.

A beat.

“I’m sorry” you whimpered, looking down in guilt.

“I don’t follow” Jonathan spoke emotionlessly. His expression was firm, quickly refusing to show you any more vulnerability. His jawline was as sharp as a sword as he leant back against the counter.

Another beat.

“What we did was wrong” you shuddered, you could already feel your eyes swell up, pins poking at your orbs. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make eye contact with him, too afraid of seeing his demeaning glare.

“What are you going on about, sweetheart?” Jonathan frowned, crossing his arms across his chest as he stepped towards you, leaving the sizzling pan unattended. “What’s wrong?” He asked innocently, but Jonathan Crane was never known to be naive.

“Last night was a mistake, we both drank too much and acted thoughtlessly” you explained through a few chortled sounds, shaking your head at the memory of you two in bed together.

Jonathan laughed obnoxiously and shook his head at the idea of that. “No, you’re wrong” he objected sternly, taking another step towards you. Backing you up to the other direction of the counter, he firmly placed both hands on either side of the bench, trapping you in. “I enjoyed myself. You enjoyed yourself, twice. There was nothing wrong with two people finally finding each other, sweetheart. You don’t need to feel guilty about anything” Jonathan argued calmly as the back of his hand stroked your cheek, but his eyes looked like they wanted to strangle you. All you could do was stand there in silence, the edge digging into your lower back, unable to form a proper counter-argument, your mouth ajar open.

Jonathan waited patiently for you to make up a response as he hummed to calm you. You found your chest feeling more at ease as the airflow went at a better pace. See, you can see it right? How he’s calming your emotions, sending signals to your brain that everything is going to be okay. But this isn’t what you want, it isn’t what you need right now.

“I think it’s best if I leave… I need to think over things” you finally replied, your expression slightly cringing at your honest words.

The way his eyes went soft felt like a stab to the gut, his hand slowly brushed down your forearm as he stared at you. “You can think over them here with me darling” Jonathan whispered his plea, his fingers sending tingles up your skin. The silence was loud as you kept your head low. It was hurting him, you were hurting him. The words that next left his lips were the ones you were dreading the most. “Do you regret making love to me?” Jonathan asked flatly.

“I don’t know” you answered, whimpering at this conversation.

“It’s a yes or no answer” Jonathan swiftly responded blankly, clicking his tongue as his strokes became firmer, his nail lightly scratching your skin.

“Jonathan please, I was drunk, I was upset, I was lonely. I wasn’t thinking straight!” You cried out your argument, but it was falling on deaf eyes as Jonathan blinked.

But you wanted him. You know you did, despite how much you were regretting it. His touch was like electricity, it sent your nerves on ecstatic fire and it terrified you. Yet, you don’t want him completely.

“Did I not make you feel good? Forgive me but I got a different impression from you last night” Jonathan grunted, his hands now caressing up and down your bare thighs. It made your knees feel weak and you had to bite back your moan.

It felt good, he felt good. Why were you denying the two of you from this? It was wrong, this isn’t what your relationship was meant to turn into. He was never meant to catch you, you were always meant to be one step ahead. Your mind was hurricane right now. There was no idea that you could catch, hold onto.

As you blinked, you realized he was still talking. “But you already knew that I love you” Jonathan continued on, his fingers slipping underneath the band of your underwear, massaging your hips.

“Jonathan…” You warned, or begged? You couldn’t tell what was going on anymore. Your mind wanted to run away yet your body wanted to embrace him. A slow sigh escaped your lips.

“No, you know that I love you, you know that I’ve always loved you. Tell me I’m wrong” Jonathan demanded calmly, pressing himself up against you, his nose brushing against your cheek. A shudder echoed through your chest as your hands rested against his chest.

The bacon and eggs were burning, the smoke rapidly building over the stovetop but Jonathan was oblivious to it, or ignoring it. A moan choked out of your throat as he abruptly pressed his thumb against your clit. Your knees buckled and you held onto his shoulders for support. You want this, stop denying it.

“Jonathan, I’m really confused right now. I want to go home” you squeaked. Blinking hard, you wanted to wake up from this nightmare but the pleasure his thumb brought to you by merely rotating over your sensitive bud was too strong to fight.

“No, we will sort this out right now” Jonathan snapped back, his patience running thin as he gritted his teeth together, his fingers brushing over your wet folds.

“Jonathan I need-” he cut you off but gripping onto your chin.

“You need to listen to me, please” Jonathan hissed, his eyes sharp and nostrils flaring as he slipped a finger inside of your core. “Your thoughts are disordered, I understand how big of a change this is for our relationship but you don’t need to get scared so easily!” Jonathan argued, his breath heavy on your skin as his digit pumped in and out of your canal.

Moaning out lightly, your head fell onto his shoulder as you felt your nerves spark against each other. It was spine chilling, the satisfaction he seemed to manipulate over your body. Even though this side of Jonathan perturbed you, you couldn’t help but to feel a rush of adrenaline from it. With him being the puppeteer, his strings tangled around your limbs.

No.

Snapping back to your proper thoughts, a wave of anger rushed over you. You shoved him away from you, quickly rushing over to take the pan off the flame and flicking the heat off. The smoke stung against your eyes as you stepped away from Jonathan, but he strided back over to you.

“I don’t want to be here” you admitted, wrapping your arms across your chest, a single tear slipping down your heated cheek.

“Please just listen to me!” Jonathan roared, smacking his palm on the counter beside you.

Naturally you flinched at the action as Jonathan tried to keep his composure. Never have you seen Jonathan look so unhinged, his stability with his emotions have flown out the window as he was panting from anger. The gnashing of teeth frightened you as his nostrils were flaring like a bull.

The egotistical Jonathan Crane was meeting his match, the rejection of you. He was able to handle it once, but not this time. Not after he had done everything for you, to have you.

“You’re not thinking of Anthony are you? He left you, remember! And who was the person you came running to? Who’s here now?” Jonathan snarled the questions, his tone dripping of irritation as he lent closer to you, daring you to make the next move. “Tell me darling, who did you call?” He begged sarcastically.

“Stop it. You’re being mean” you whimpered lightly, gulping to yourself when you saw his left eye twitch.

“Oh, I’m being mean now? I’m merely being honest” he chuckled, but you failed to find humor in it. “It’s time to be real sweetheart, I am the man that knows you fully. I am the only one that is able to take care of you. I’m the one that would do anything for you, has done everything for you! No one else has gone to the lengths I have, you have to understand that!” Jonathan bellowed, his chest rising and falling as all of his muscles were tensing, his arms waving around in match to his emotions.

His ocean blue eyes turned into a tsunami with the rage of his feelings at peak. A trembling lower lip as a result of his frustrations. The usual pale skin was replaced with a shade of red from his blood boiling.

“What are you going on about!” You cried back, your shoulders turning inwards.

The fear in your eyes conflicted with Jonathan's thoughts. It was fuel to his rage of fire, it turned him on, but it also made his body feel weak. Merely wanting to whisper soft words into your ear, promise you that everything is going to be okay, apologize deeply for scaring you. But his unleashed fury clouded his judgments, purely focused on groundless actions.

“What don’t I have that you need!” Jonathan yelled, his face red beat from his lack of control over himself and the situation.

He was confusing you, he was doing it on purpose to gaslight you, he had to have been. The idea to leave you defenseless and at his whim, because only he would be able to make you feel better. This is how it always happened, Jonathan was always the one that made you feel at ease. There had to be no other possibility besides a ploy to make you beg for him.

“Johnny…” You begged, your lips trembling as you lightly pressed your hand against his forearm.

Slowly, he looked down to your touch, feeling it all too intensely. Jonathan huffed and closed the distance, his hands gripped onto the sides of your face as he leant in to kiss you. You mumbled against his mouth, lips glued shut as his tongue tried to push through. He smacked you rear surprisingly, your mouth naturally opening in shock. Your hands pushed against his chest but he wouldn’t budge, his tongue deep down your throat. Caressing your back with his smooth hands, you felt your body weaken underneath him, a blocked moan vibrating against his mouth.

It felt good, too good. Naturally, your tongue danced with his. Your body turning into jelly simultaneously to your mind dissolving into mush. Both of your sensations were heightened, as you could feel the wet patch in your underwear and his heat press firmly against your waist.

Stop it!

With a sudden forceful shove, you successfully pushed him away from you. Following up with a slap that echoed throughout the house. When Jonathan tried to lean towards you again, you repeated your assault until he backed off.

“I don’t fucking love you so just get over me!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “You’re such a fucking creep!” you continued your rage, your vision blurry, body shaking like a tree in the wind.

A very long beat. With Jonathan standing still, his hand pressed against his stinging cheek.

By the look in his eyes, you were dead meat. It was as if he was debating on the perfect way to kill you, painfully, slowly. But it also looked like betrayal, as if he couldn’t believe your actions.

Within a blink of the eye, your face is caught in between his hands. It’s hard to tell if he wanted to snap your neck or kiss you passionately, roughly again. There was a moment of him purely huffing and puffing as his grip on your jaw remained like an iron grip. Your hands wrapped around his.

“I-I’m sorry” you whimpered, a sudden wave of realization crashing over you. You’ve never hit him, you’ve never hit anyone before. What was wrong with you? Jonathan sighed, closing his eyes to hide his glistering sea orbs.

It was the perfect example of heartbreak. The emotional distress was as visible as daylight over his face. Your unreciprocated love has broken him down.

“If you don’t wish to be worshiped, that’s on you. I will love you no more” Jonathan concluded, finally letting go of you and stepping back. “I wish you all the best, darling” he farewelled before turning his heel and leaving you all alone.

“Jonathan, wait!” You called out, your arms wrapped around your chest as he disappeared down the hallway. “Johnny!” You continued, but he didn’t come back.

You wanted to follow after him, apologize, beg for forgiveness. Yet you were stuck on your feet. Quietly sobbing to yourself, you shamefully picked up your bag from the coffee table and wandered towards the front door.

Was this the right decision? Regardless, his actions were inexcusable, weren’t they? You never wanted to be with him. But you knew that he loved you. You’ve shamelessly led him on for years, keep him by your side for your own selfish reasons. He was your shoulder to lean on. It was like a timebomb, ticking down until this moment happened, your fuck up. You’ve ruined it with him. Your words felt like a massive lie. You didn’t love him, right? It felt like you didn’t know anything anymore.

Sitting in your car, you considered going back in, dropping onto your knees to say how sorry you were. But you found yourself driving far away from him. Driving aimlessly for a while, until you eventually returned home, locking yourself in with nothing but your own thoughts on what has occurred in such a short period of time.

Weeks went by with no contact with Jonathan. Everytime you called, it rang out to voicemail. Every message you sent him, remained unanswered. He was sticking to his word, he would love you no more, and it was breaking your heart.

The sensation of his hot lips on your skin felt fictitious. It should have been painful, the way your nails were digging into the flesh of his back, but there was this euphoric yet menacing smile on his lips as he thrusted completely inside of you. It sounded like a melody, you moaning his name in ecstasy repetitively. He would return the melody with grumbles and groans as you felt his cock twitch deep within you.

“Oh Jonathan!” you cried out, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging into his skin like you were going to fall to your death. Swiftly, he pinned your hands onto the bed, pounding into your canal as if all human life depended on it. Panting your name back to you, the pair of you molded as one as you reached your climaxes.

“I love you baby” he cried out, his hands locking yours to the bed as if you were going to slip away from his grasp, his sight.

“I love you more” you returned the confession, smiling widely through the pleasure and ecstasy that his presence gave you. Jonathan’s mouth was wide open in elation, it looked as if he could eat you whole.

Your eyes snapped open, your upper body shooting up into a sitting position on your mattress just as quick. It took a long time to get your panting under control in the cold darkness. There was this grumble in your throat, as your hand slipped down your heated, sweaty skin. The feeling of the slippery, moist fluid wetted your fingertips underneath your clothing made you moan.

As you fell back onto the bed, you stared at the ceiling, replaying your dream like you were in a cinema. It felt so real, it felt so out of this world. You took in a deep breath, your dry hand feeling your jaw, traveling down your chest as you tried to scrutinize your dream.

Saying that you missed Jonathan was an understatement. Expressing how sorry you were and guilty you felt just didn’t have enough words in the english vocabulary. You wanted him, but in what way? Confusement clouded your judgment, mind and emotions. Maybe you were wrong, about him being the wrong man for you, you really didn't know. All you knew was that his anger was justified and his look of heartbreak managed to have a large ripple effect onto your own heart, perhaps even larger than his.

There was nothing more that you wanted to do besides hold him. Possibly you were just lonely, knowing that your safe bet was gone now made you feel unloved. But you deserved to be exactly that, alone, forsaken, outcasted by the one that would do anything for you. You never thought about Anthony anymore, it was like he never even existed. Jonathan was the one that was always on your mind, and it made you feel nervous.

Did you love him? Though you knew his love for you wasn’t in perfect good health. But it was flourishing, passionate, blooming and warm. Maybe you were incorrect, read it all from the wrong point of you. Or you were just up yourself, eager for the heart of a heartless man.

But those words he said to you. Those controlling, obsessive, possessive words he growled, like a beast. Yet, at the end of the day, Jonathan Crane was just a boy, hopelessly wanting the returned affection of you. You’ve helped fix people before, what difference would he be?

You were the one that was quick to jump, to slam that door without seeing it through. You reacted without thinking. You chose this. There was no sympathy for you, it was the consequences of your own actions.

If you could build up the courage, in the morning you’d call him again, and if he didn’t answer you’d go to him for the first time. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to confess that you loved him, in the odd yet truthful way. Then you’d pray that he would forgive you, take you back, have you completely.

You slipped out of your bed, and wandered down the dark hallway to your kitchen, flicking on the light as you yawned. Looking out the floor length windows, you saw the wind dance rapidly through the tree leafs, the vibrations echoing over the glass.

12:37 the clock read.

On your tippy toes, you reached into the cupboard for a glass, it clinked as you placed it on the bench. Opening the fridge you grabbed onto the glass water jug when you heard a faint footstep behind you. The next event all happened too quickly, your body reacted before your mind could deconstruct what was occurring.

The glass shattered across the tiled floor as you gasped out. Fight or flight kicked in. You dodged the hands, shoving the masked man away from you in a desperate plea to bolt for freedom. His body crashed into the counter, echoing a large groan from him. Scattering on your bare feet, your foot slipped on the slippery tiles as you cried out at the pain on your knee smacking on the tile. Then you were suddenly pulled back up by his arm around your waist, your arms flung over the counter top, wiping out everything on display as you tried to grab onto anything to pull away from him.

Before you could scan your next possibility to safety, you gasped heavily, inhaling the drug he jetted at your mouth. You wheezed, your body immediately freezing like stone into place, your heart pounding against your ribcage like a dog begging to be released out of its kennel, your skin crawling from the inside as if it’s suffocating. All you wanted to do was cry out, but you were even too fearful to do that.

The masked man stood in front of you as he straightened his posture, patting down his black crew neck shirt, your vision was dark and blurred as you looked down to the ground. His hand tapped your cheek harshly a couple of times and you slowly looked up to him in terror.

The scream that ran up your throat was piercing. It echoed through the walls, cut at your throat like razor blades. You wanted to run for your life, but your feet were glued to the floor in horror. You saw a demon and his hideous face with eyes as dark as coal.

The man pressed his body up against yours, pushing your back into the counter, you cried out in pain and fear before his hand roughly slapped over your mouth. His groans sound demonic, as his paws run up and down your skin, his claws looped into the fabrics of your clothes and ripped them. Muffling your cries, you trembled underneath him.

Flipping your body around, he pushed your chest into the cold benchtop, your hands shot above your head and latched onto the opposing edge of the bench. His fingers ran up your covered region, quickly following through by yanking down your shorts and underwear together. Your sticky folds are fondled by his cold fingers.

“You cannot possibly be this wet” His diabolic voice spoke. It was uncertain if he had a voice modifier underneath his mask or if it was effects of the drugs you had ingested, potentially both. “Am I fulfilling a fantasy of yours, little one?” He condescended, rubbing your right cheek slowly.

You wanted to snap back, hiss at him for getting the wrong interpretation. It felt so humiliating to have your attacker believe that he made you this wet. But all you could do was lay there in fear, unable to comprehend for the hell he was going to unleash on you.

“Oh, little one” he sighed, unbuckling his belt. It was torture, how he was taking his time, purely admiring you, enjoying this moment as you sobbed silently. His covered erection pressed against your gushing entrance and you mewled as he slowly humped against you. Then he slid down his covers, the tip of his member kissed against your core and you weep out loud.

“Hey…” He grunted, his fingernails digging into your bare ass. “Don’t be afraid, I’m going to take care of you, okay?” He vowed, if his voice didn’t sound so sinister, you’d notice that he was concerned for your wellbeing. Yet it seemed that you had different ideologies on what taking care meant. After a few moments of him watching you sob, he began to push himself inside of your canal. His growl echoed down your eardrums as you gasped at the sensation. “That’s it, that’s a good little whore, taking me fully” he spoke slowly, burying himself deep inside of you.

It was traumatizing, the way that your cunt was naturally squeezing around him, the arousal that vibrated over your skin, how there was this pit of pleasure building up in your core. There was no control from you, no matter how badly you wanted to keep your mouth shut, you were echoing your moans throughout the room.

He moaned out in return as he began to pick up his speed. “Oh yes, I’m positive I am fulfilling a fantasy of yours… Am I doing a good job?” He toyed, slapping your ass with one hand and holding your hip in place with the other.

Taking care of you was a lie, he was hurting you. The sensation of your skin felt like it was on fire, his cock felt like a dagger. So how were you so aroused right now? It was the drug. It had to be the drug, This was not a guilty fantasy of yours and this certainly wasn’t fulfilling your enjoyment. Yet, you were enjoying it technically, the physical response to erotic stimulus. That’s all it was, reflexes. The intoxication has messed with your cognitive response, your mind was currently relying on your physical reactions.

The first wave felt like a tsunami over your body, it ached with how strong your orgasm was. Your nerves jabbing viciously at you. Crying out, the man grunted, refusing to slow down his pace as you shamefully rode out your high on him. Smugly, he praised you for being such a good obedient whore. Shortly after that, the second wave came crashing down on your body. Making him smirk underneath the mask.

“I wish I could know what was going on in that little mind of yours, would you please tell me?” He coyed, pounding in you like a rabbit. How did he sound so content? You were hardly able to breathe the way his balls were slapping against your clit.

“N-no” you whimpered out, shutting your eyes tight.

“Oh come on! Tell me how it feels, or I’ll give you a reason not to fucking talk” He growled, hitting your cervix, over and over again.

“Uhhh! How-how” you stuttered out your cries.

“Talk little one, spit out those lovely words” He ordered, grunting at the sensation of your canal.

“How good you feel inside of me” you sobbed. The embarrassment and humiliation felt like a tidal wave over your emotions. His hand rubbed against your flushed rear skin to praise you.

“Really? Want me to come back again tomorrow night? Or you want me to just stay the night? Maybe you want me to steal you away” he toyed, still thrusting in and out of you at a brutal pace.

“No! No! No!” you begged, shaking your head at the idea.

Jonathan. He came to your mind, you wanted him to save you, to protect you. Just like how you knew he always would. Oh how you wanted him to come for you!

“Jo-Johnny” you mewled, eyes stinging in pain as you silently begged for Jonathan to come for you.

The man paused for a moment, deep inside of you. You gasped out in relief. “What was that little one?” He asked softly, holding your hips in place as you clenched around him.

“Johnny” you repeat yourself, sobbing at the thought of him.

Sobbing at the thought of how you hurt him, of how he wanted nothing to do with you anymore. From how you broke his heart, ruined everything between you two.

“Johnny, huh?” He snorted as he started to pick up his speed again.

“Jonathan!” You cried, but he wasn’t going to save you, no matter how hard you wanted to believe otherwise.

“Who’s Jonathan baby? Your little boyfriend?” He laughed, his nails lightly scratching up and down your outer thigh. By the way your cunt was pulsing against him, he knew you were close again. “Does Jonathan make you feel this good?” He mocked, forcefully flexing his hips to make you choke out. Your whimper sounded like a mix between yes and no. “Speak clearly!” He ordered.

“Yes!” You answered, your body trembling against the freezing countertop.

“Maybe we could share you then” He grinned underneath the mask.

“No!” You begged.

“Alright, then cry out for him. Cry out for Jonathan to save you!” He commanded, hitting your bundle of nerves over and over again. His balls were slapping against your clit as your moans and cries were garbled together.

“Jonathan!” you whined, holding onto the counter for dear life as your climax rushed over you.

It was pure horror, how good your orgasm felt, it was like you were flying. But at the same time it felt like your body was chained to the ground. Your sensitive skin felt like it was being poked at with a million pins as your orgasm flooded out from your core. You wanted it to continue on, but it came to a sudden stop.

It left your mind in a blur. He pulled out of you, his seed shot all over your heated skin between your thighs. The growl rumbled out of his chest as he roughly kneaded your hip with his free hand, his other hand stroking up and down his length viciously. The both of you remained still for a moment, then he rubbed his hand all over your thighs, coating your flesh with your mixed fluids. Pulling up your bottoms, he leant over you and caressed your cheek from behind with his wet hand, his crotch pressing back against your ass as he inhaled you.

Your fragile body shook underneath him. Silently begging for him to end you of this misery. His words were muffled as his hands trailed all over your body.

The last thing he said to you sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll see you soon, little one” It felt like he vanished into thin air, his friction against you disappeared, you heard no footsteps nor the door open or close. It was as if he was never there.

Life felt like a trance, as if it was back to normal. Well, whatever normal could be considered anymore. Being an expert in the field of psychology, you never thought you’d be deeply stabbed in the back by the knives of trauma. It was common for psychiatrists to have their own personal issues, to have a line of support. But you couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed, because you knew exactly why these things occurred, yet you couldn’t get rid of the pitch black thoughts and emotions that blinded your vision. The ones that blinded your happiness and confidence.

It was easier to heal and move on from it, you knew that holding onto it would only do you more harm. There was nothing that could fix it besides yourself, well, and Johnny. That mind of his was truly something else. Jonathan’s alleviation of providing enough treatment for you to mend your trauma worked at ease. It was like he was your lucky charm.

He talked you through it, his voice sounding like a harmony which consoled that nothing was ever your fault. The mediation he gave you helped with your anxiety and panic all too easily. Whenever you were overwhelmed or upset, he held you tightly and reassured you that you would never go through that ever again.

Gotham City Police Department was as useless as a glass hammer. Not to mention that if someone leaked your name to the public, it would highly likely humiliate your career. So it went unsaid in how the authorities would not be contacted over the incident. Not to mention the process would be so draining, all for another cold case in Gotham City.

It was easier just to forget it, you had to keep on telling yourself that. Be the strong independent woman you have always strived to be. Countless victims have the same story, you need to stop having so much pity for yourself when you’ve had Jonathan by your side through it all.

You don’t know how he got in without it triggering. The alarm should have gone off. Maybe one day you could move away from Gotham City, to somewhere free of crime. But like Jonathan would ever agree to you leaving him like that, especially for what he has done for you. You owed him your life, that was a distressing thought of yours whenever it flew over your mind.

You took personal leave from work for a few weeks, residing at Jonathan’s home where he also tended to work from home a lot more frequently. Doctor Jonathan Crane was a workaholic, but in order to keep your anxiety at bay and yourself comfortable, Jonathan flipped his whole schedule around to suit your needs. A lot of the time you’d be lying on his couch in his home office as he typed away rapidly on his computer. His gaze would frequently lay on you, as you struggled to keep your eyes open, your mind often wandering elsewhere.

Slowly, you exposed yourself into public settings. At first, you felt like all eyes were on you, your heart was like a drum. Anxiety made you feel like you had cement in your shoes. But Jonathan was right there, by your side for you to hold onto. To support you, to remind you that everything was going to be okay.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months.

Life with Jonathan felt dreamy. It seemed unrealistic, for you to heal as quickly as you have. There have been cases where people took years to heal, cases where they never healed. But here you were, sipping on your tea as you lounged carelessly on the couch. You blinked in a dazy state, as you looked at the clock. Jonathan would be arriving home any minute.

Jonathan declared it would be better if you fully move in with him, you contentedly agreed. He’d empty out his office, turn it into a bedroom for you if you ever insisted. Your home would be a major trigger, and living by yourself would be dangerous to the sake of your mentality. But you were still happy with sleeping in the same bed as Jonathan, just as he was.

It grew to be the favorite part of your day. Crawling into bed, right straight into his arms. Like a dog running to his master. Sometimes he would read to you. Sometimes he would tell you of potential plans for your future together, little one’s though, like going to see the current ballet production. Sometimes he would just hum a melody until you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Yes, you had fallen hopelessly over for Jonathan. There was nothing holding you back anymore, he has shown you time and time again that he would do anything for you. He has done everything for you. It was time to stop being inconsiderate, he showed you how much he adored you and it was time for you to show it back.

Jonathan smiled lightly at you as he walked into the lounge room, he dropped his briefcase beside the couch and fell onto the spot next to you. “Hi” you smiled softly, blinking slowly as you repositioned your body on the soft fabric.

“Hi darling” Jonathan smiled back at you. “Good tea?” He asked, his eyes looking down at the mug and then back up at you. Your head nodded softly as you lifted the mug to your lips.

“I can make you a cup if you want” you offered, looking over to the kettle in the kitchen.

He took off his glasses and put them on the coffee table. A part of you wished he got contacts instead, he always looked so much more charming without them on.

“I’m okay, I still need to look over a few reports. I faxed them to myself so I could do it here instead. I know I told you we’d do something tonight but I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m so behind in my work, I’ll have to make it up to you another night” Jonathan apologized, leaning forward and capturing his head in his hands as he propped his elbows on his thighs.

Mentally chuckling to yourself, you put the mug down on the coffee table. Leaning over to Jonathan, your arm wrapped around his back as you rested your head on his shoulder. It felt perfect, being with him. It always felt perfect holding onto him. How were you so stupid? To not realize that Jonathan was indeed the perfect match for you?

He looked so tired, so worn out from the overloading factors in his life.

“Your body feels so tense Johnny” you pointed out. He hummed, slightly looking over to you. Your hands began to knead into his back and he let out a soft moan. It went on like that for a short time, slowly increasing your kneads. When you said his name almost like you were singing, he straightened his back and completely turned to you.

Time froze, but yet it all occurred in a snap.

“I love you” you admitted, a shy smile on your lips. The purest look on your face, there was no deception. This was all real yet it felt like a hallucination.

It felt right, felt like you were holding it in for so long that you’ve even forgotten about the cage that the truth was locked in. But you stumbled across the lost key and set it free. It soared through the blue sky, nothing could ever latch onto it again.

“I love you too” Jonathan answered back, turning his lower body so his arms could easily wrap around your back.

“No… I love you” you repeat yourself, looking him sternly in the eye as you leant closer to him, but not too close. Jonathan chuckled lightly and leant closer to you, your lips inches apart.

“I know” he replied quietly.

He waited for you to give him the green light. Sighing softly, you lightly pressed your lips against his, closing his eyes, returning to this dream of yours.

You stirred in your sleep. Whimpering and gasping at the vision of your attacker. The sight of that barbarian. Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air. It felt like you were in space, your head was going to expand twice its size. This still happens sometimes, the nightmares Jonathan and yourself could only control so much. Desperately looking around for Jonathan, you quickly realized the room was empty. “Johnny!” You called out, holding the sheets close to you, the wind howling against the shaking windows. Your body was trembling, eyes stinging in pain. The door was wide open, the hallway light illuminating the entrance as you heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching, you were afraid of who was going to appear.

Jonathan came into sight in the open door frame only in his pajama pants, Leaning against the wooden frame with a cup of black coffee in his hand. You could still see the steam lingering above the ceramic. But Jonathan scanned your figure immediately and strided towards you.

“Sorry darling, I couldn’t sleep with all of the wind outside so I just thought I’d do some work” Jonathan explained, approaching you. “Another nightmare?” Jonathan inquired. His question was answered with a small nod. Placing the mug on the bedside table, Jonathan sat next to you, you fell into his arms at the drop of a hat. Gently urging you to tell him off your dream, you took a deep breath.

“It was just the same dream” you whimpered your answer.

“You’re safe darling. He won’t get you” He promised, his hand gently resting above yours.

You knew his words to be true. But it was still so terrifying.

“Why do I still dream of him?” you whined faintly.

It was a silly question to ask. But you couldn’t help but to feel so frustrated and stressed when these moments still happened. It made you feel like all of your progress was crashing down onto you.

“It could be a number of reactions. Your mind is still distressed by it, there’s nothing to be ashamed of from it. PTSD can cause an exaggerated fear response in your dreams. Which makes them feel real, which gets your heart racing and nerves on edge” Jonathan explained, gently petting your hair. “Remember, these moments can still occur, it’s just how you deal with them afterwards that matters. Don’t let these negative thoughts win sweetheart. Do not fret, I am here to take care of you” Jonathan assured, a gentle smile on his lips.

“Can you stay with me?” You asked softly, staring at him with doe eyes.

“Of course darling” Jonathan consoled as he laid comfortably into the bed with you.

His arms pulled you up to his chest, you breathed in his scent, he always smelt like a rich scent of musk and it relaxed you. Jonathan hummed to you, to keep your mind distracted from getting into its thoughts again. Surprisingly, Jonathan drifted off into a deep sleep before you. He rarely fell asleep first, and was always the first one awake.

Even though you felt safe, secure, protected in his arms. It was difficult not to think back into that night. The fright your attacker gave you when he grabbed you. How quick you ingested the drug. As the toxin rapidly took over, you found yourself frozen in fear. Your body was in shock, trembling excessively, your mind was in a horrific state yet you could hardly murmur out your pleas. How he forced his large size inside of you, making you grumble out as loud as you physically could.

It all made you feel sick to your stomach. The humiliation of orgasming around his size disgusted you. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you just couldn’t control yourself. You tried to remind yourself about it being a natural response, but how could your body be so turned on in that horrifying situation? The pet name he called you, little one. The way he moaned, a rough fabric covering his face brushing over your flustered skin, praising you for how good you felt through his demonic voice. His hands were awfully smooth, they fondled your skin to make up with how hard he was thrusting inside of you. It felt like an eternity, all you could do was lay there on the cold counter top and pray for him to finish sooner rather than later, yet disgracefully you wanted him to keep on going. You couldn’t tell anyone that. No, you couldn’t wish for that. Don’t let these tricks bring you down again.

When he did finish, you don’t know how long he stayed there against you, holding onto your body as if he caressed you like you were a lover. It felt like it was everlasting, but also felt like he was never there. When you knew you were alone, you fell to the floor immediately as hyperventilation took control of yourself. You curled up into a ball, too afraid to move, afraid he was going to come back. You sat there for what felt like hours, however it was much shorter than that.

Jonathan was the only person on your mind. Your hero, your protector, oh how you wanted him to save you! To take you away from this life. Free your mind from this nightmare. Your life depended on him, that much you knew. He was the only one that would ever be able to fix you, to mend you, to cure you from this torment.

Oh how you wanted to kill this savage, how you wanted Jonathan to kill him for you. But one thing was for sure. The man wearing a burlap sack with a noose around his neck has scarred you for life.

Taglist:

@red-riding-wood @slut4thebroken @cocacolaovalchair @betty21rose

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #smut #dark smut #jonathan crane #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you

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sl4sh3rsub · 4 months

Text

billy lenz hcs (nsfw: mdni)

billy lenz x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: this is set in the mid-to-late 70s, perversion, old school + kinda one-sided phone sex, billy is loud as fuck + a creep + delusional, scent/musk kink, cumming on clothing, copious mentions of cum + precum, using cum as lube, dry humping, extremely dubious consent (somnophilia), masturbation (+ billy edging), oral sex (both giving + receiving, facefucking reeiiving), reader is referred to as 'piggy', p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), ass eating/nondescript tongue fucking (giving + receiving), handjob mention, implied violence (not towards reader), overstimulation (giving + receiving), diy home reno gloryhole, old school cum tribute, foot humping/light cbt??, light bondage (pun), sex toys (for billy), hickeys + biting (giving + receiving)

a/n: kinda edited. happy holidays folks!! this might be ooc but i swear i tried. was gonna add more feet stuff bc it's billy, but decided against it. if you're into that kinda thing, use your imagination - i only mentioned it once and i think that's enough tbh. this one also doesn't have as much literal sexual intercourse as my other hcs (just a heads up) it's been a hot minute since i've watched the film, so the characteristics might be off (i based this on my own interpretation of him and i haven't really read any billy fics recently.. oops) it's a little rushed but i really did try! hope you like it

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

billy got bored of all the sorority piggies and moved, hiding in a mixed residential college dorm building - a creaky colonial-style residence with a spacious attic. the first time he sees you, you're getting dressed to join the other boarders for dinner. billy heard you humming to a radio and peered down between the cracks in the stained floorboard. he's been unhealthily obsessed with you since then <3

billy is an absolute pervert and will sexualize anything and everything you do. from scratching your neck to wandering around your room in your underwear, he's already ogling and muttering how much of a fuckin tease you are

he becomes bolder over time and eventually sneaks into your room at night. after you catch him lurking in the darkness of your room and he doesn't get immediately thrown out, he grows more and more trusting of you. billy becomes accepting of your begrudging attraction to him and he definitely takes full advantage of it :< you reluctantly give him permission to venture into your room if he needs company or an outlet for his pent-up sexual energy - it must be pretty cold and lonely in the attic, what's the harm in cuddling with the lanky man? he's already your dirty secret and at this point, he'd kill for you

his favourite pastime is calling your room's rotary phone during the day and either making mundane conversation with you or having you listen to his rambling as he strokes his cock, not even ten feet away from you. if you start bashfully touching yourself to his babbling or accidentally let slip a moan, tilt your head towards the ceiling so he can see your blissed-out expressions (he definitely cums on the spot)

if you want to get in his good books, put some old cabaret music on your cassette player and give billy a show - whether it's a sensual strip tease or you touching yourself on your bed, billy will be over the moon. as the music ends and the room is quiet - apart from your heavy breathing and thumping heartbeat - little gasps and applause drifts down from your ceiling, making you blush and whisper your thanks

there is not a moment when this man is quiet. in sexual situations, of course he's going to breath loudly, growl and spout obscenities, but even in regular conversation he rambles and expresses his opinions in long, convoluted trains of thought

billy loves it when you're just with him - in reality, you're alone in your room with a creep peering down at you from above, but it's better to let him be delusional. no harm has come of it... yet

don't worry your silly little head about the opaque liquid dripping from ceiling, directly above the bed :< it's either his spit, tears or precum drooling down between the wooden paneling from him constantly edging, the sight of you just existing is enough to turn him on. if it somehow lands on you, billy will cum instantly at the sight of you with his love painting your skin. you look like his perfect piggy, he can't help it :(

he has a habit of dragging his leaking tip over your face while you sleep, smearing his musky precum over your skin for you to smell when you wake. his favourite hobby is staining your skin in his stinky, salty scent - from cumming in your underwear as a way of marking you to wiping off his pre on your lips (as to not stain his boxers), he will make any excuse to clean off his cock on you. if you've been dismissive of him or too caught up in studying, he'll threaten to wake you up by dragging his musty balls over your face. just saying.

whenever he sneaks down to spend time with you skin-to-skin, billy practically goes feral. he's already jittery and constantly rock hard, so expect him to hump you like the degenerate mutt he is. every time you hug or lie next to him, he'll wrap his arms around you and start grinding against you, burying his face in your shoulder. he might not even want to initiate sex!! billy just wants to show his affection and attraction to you :(

billy isn't lying on the phone calls about what he wants to do to you. his inexperience is second to his enthusiasm and need to tongue-fuck you at every given opportunity. your spit-shined, sloppy hole is his favourite view on any day of the week and you bet he's going to make the most of it. make sure to place down a towel under his hips while he goes to town, he tends to leak precum freely and stain your bedsheets whenever you two so much as hug :>

he is a massive drooler, so watch out for the spit puddles on your pillow and mattress after he graces you with a visit. billy is also massive fan of visiting you in the dark - be it night or whenever you have your curtains closed - as he is pretty embarrassed about his constant ahegao face. it's especially prevalent when you touch him just right or suckle on his skin in that perfect spot

billy is constantly babbling about how much you can take his juicy, meaty cock in your tight piggy hole and frantically escalates whenever you pick up the phone. he always describes how he's gonna taste your arousal and fuck you until your legs are shaking, his fingers itching to touch every inch of you. billy's third-person descriptions throw you off a little, but he gets the point across pretty well. his insane squeals and huffs get louder as the lewd, wet rhythm picks up with every passing minute

if someone picks on you, he'll find their phone number and target them with streams of profanities and harassment until they leave you alone and back off. if you come home crying from a bad experience around strangers or tell him of someone who attempted to hurt you, he'll take it upon himself to dispose of them. how else would he rid himself his violent urges? he has to protect you and keep you for himself somehow

expect weird, out of place stains on all of your clothing. from small splatters to large and obvious splotches, every clothing item has remnants of his visits to your dorm room

billy has long-winded phone calls with you, about everything from your life to your interests and favourite things. there's shuffling above you every once in a while, but don't worry about it. it's not possums or raccoons in the insulation, just billy trying to get comfortable - his back aches from craning his neck to see you in, leering from in between the wooden gaps

he will leave you little scribbled notes on crumpled, used envelopes - his barely legible chicken scratch goes on about how pretty you look when he's looking down at you and how fun you are to play with

billy is incredibly touch starved - he'll regift items he finds laying around in exchange for kisses or even a rushed handjob (if he asks nicely enough). the nicer and less dusty the present, the better the reward

his idea of heaven is the feeling of you gagging and choking on his dick, especially the dazed look in your eyes while he fucks your face. the way you catch your breath and let him just stand above you, staring at the mess of cum he made on your face, has his heart pounding in his chest. billy's gaze is one of pure adoration, especially when you have his throbbing cock resting safely in your mouth

prepare to be overstimulated!! he's a fuck machine and will go until he's shooting blanks, or you shove him off to take a break. he is so conditioned from his constant masturbating that he does not get soft after shooting his load - he keeps hissing through the sensitivity as he drills into you like a jackrabbit, hitting your deepest points and sending shivers down your spine. he uses his thick, goopy cum as lube half of the time - he often cums the second he pushes into you, feeling your warmth around him. good thing he has animalistic stamina and strong thighs :>

billy is extremely noisy but will gladly attempt to muffle himself if it means he won't get found out, if it means he gets to stay in the residence - with you - for longer. he's a whiny and breathy moaner though, so never expect complete silence

his pale skin practically glows under the moonlight whenever he pays you a night-time visit. his cock bobs whenever you ghost your fingers over his side and through his hair, precum pooling and dripping down his long length as he gently moves his foreskin back to reveal his flushed - borderline purplish red - cock head. the few freckles scattering his tummy and the wild, wispy brown bush surrounding his base makes him feel pretty insecure about his body - it's not at all like the buff, tan men in the risqué mags or porno tapes. reassure him that he's mouthwateringly attractive, swollen cock and all. the one downside of giving billy head is that his cum tastes very acidic and bitter - invite him to share a healthy lunch of salad and fruit with a healthy jug of water every once in a while, it'll benefit you both

most of the encounters between you two will happen at night or with him partially obscured, but eventually he'll gain enough confidence to emerge from his den and visit during the daytime

he makes a glory hole at the top of the stairs that lead to the attic - he knocks out a section of paneling that's hidden next to a cabinet, perfect for you to hide behind while kneeling :< he's not that considerate though, he still forces you to be vigilant while he makes you choke on his length without a care - you can't give him away, not in a compromising position like this!!

he sneaks into your bathroom and showers with your hair product and soap whenever he feels lonely. he's too musty to change his clothing and wear some of yours, but he's not above nicking your clothes detergent whenever your scent starts fading away.

billy is also in the habit of hiding in the shower behind the partially see-through curtain, lurking - his presence makes you hum in greeting as you wash your hands in the sink. he might stick his hard cock out from behind the curtain and giggle as it bobs just in your line of sight. if you decide to glance up at the tall silhouette while you take him down your throat, you'll see his hands scrunching the material into a wrinkled mess. at least you have billy's musty cardigan to kneel on, bruised knees are never fun

if you fall asleep while studying on your desk, he'll scuttle down and shift you ontop of the bed - he can't have his object of affection feeling under the weather. strained muscles and unnecessary soreness are gonna get in the way of your fun time with billy!

you might think you're going insane from time to time... don't worry though. the giggles, shuffling and faint moans echoing in your head are real, he's living directly above you after all. nothing to worry about :<

he is a little bit of a hoarder and definitely a thief - from strands of your hair on the floor to dirty tissues that landed in the bin after a masturbation session, it all ends up in billy's little gross pile of stuff in the corner of his lair

billy is creepy and definitely sneaks into your room at night to jerk off furiously in the corner - he loves looming in the shadows as his tip leaks like a broken faucet, groaning at the peaceful sight of you sleeping without a care. if he's feeling adventurous, he'll use your limp hand to hold his balls as he drips all over your mattress and strokes his length

whenever he's bored of the stashed porn mags in the attic, billy watches you below as you study and his hand wanders south. he uses your speed of writing as the metronome of his strokes and tries his best to not fuck his hand at the thought of giving you some 'under the desk support'

while you're out in classes, he beelines towards your bed and takes a nap in your bed, cuddling with one of your plushies. you may have caught him mid-snooze more than once, but you'd best not bring up how cute the stinky man looks or else he'll start sulking

billy guilt trips you into paying more attention to him - he needs someone to talk to plus he can fuck you too, what else could you possibly want? you see how needy he is firsthand when you return after class, walking in on him pinching his nipples as he bucks his hips and humps into your pillow. his desperate whines of your name tug at your heartstrings as you coo at his pathetic display. he really does get lonely though - billy likes imagining how it would feel to be hugged by you whenever he's feeling chilly upstairs

he will sit on your face as he gets off on demeaning you, sensually running his fingers over his cockhead as he rests his tight balls on the bridge of your nose. he has a knack for degrading you but isn't able to resist praising you, babbling about how good you're being for him and how hard he is because of you

he scatters polaroid cum tributes around your room whenever he visits without you noticing. all of the photos he took of you are eerie and at angles that could only be explained by him tailing you throughout your day-to-daylife. don't feel paranoid though, he's only wanting to ensure your safety! unfortunately, the evidence of his lurking was too tempting for him... it's now permanently stained with evidence of his lust. hope you like the present

billy asks you to buy him a vibrator for christmas! why- what do you mean no? but he gets lonely, he'll need something to keep him company. would you change your mind if he says you can use it on him too? :>

he cleans up your room to the best of his ability! he's not all altruistic though... billy steals your chewed pencils, sniffs your dirty underwear and swaps out your sweaty pillowcases to cuddle with and huff your scent from later

billy lenz is actually gross. he will want to bend over you and bury his nose into your chest, armpits and crotch after a long day. your sweat is such a turn-on for him, his cock swelling the moment you swing open your dorm door with a tired groan

if he wants to be more submissive to you, he'll beg you to help him cum by lightly grinding your foot into his throbbing cock. billy's bulge may strain against his sweatpants and tears may roll down his face, but the damp patch betrays his filthy arousal as it grows progressively bigger. the moment you comment on his enjoyment, he flushes deep red and his masochistic grin betrays how drunk he is on the pressure of your foot

tie him to a chair with old christmas lights he found in the attic, the glass bulb clinking together as he shivers at your teasing - slowly suck his cock and trail up to his tip with your tongue, edging him to the point of tears. he drools as you squeeze his cock slightly in his hand and scold him for being such a pervert

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but billy never fails to groan how amazing you feel as you clench around him

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'juicy piggy cock' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout a night when billy pays you a visit, he'll palm and kiss at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each passing moment. his guilty pleasure is dragging his tongue along your length and hearing your bleary whimpers

find two dildos that have a similar size and shape as you! he is pretty inexperienced in same-sex relationships, so why not help him practice? it'll be much easier for him to train his hole and gag reflex if he can practice on your size, even when you're away from your dorm :>

billy gets extremely jealous whenever you speak to anyone ever :( if he catches you planning a date or even talking to someone else, he'll whine a lot more than normal and sniffle down the line the next time you pick up the receiver. he might be able to pass it off as his normal attitude and shenanigans, but you know him better than he gives you credit for. invite him down to your room, cuddle him for a bit and fuck him into the mattress to show how much you care - whisper about how good he's being for you and mark up his neck with love bites

tangle your fingers in his hair as you kiss down his jaw, guiding him to sit in your lap as you shift in your seat and buck up into him. watch as his eyes roll and his tongue lolls as you hit his prostate over and over, fucking him dumb so easily

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him down to the balls

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy cunt' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your pussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark his territory your whole body

he wants you to sit on his face!! billy will eat you out like no tomorrow, throbbing and leaking uncontrollably into your sheets. he slurps and sucks on your clit until you see stars - despite his inexperience, his vigor and obvious enjoyment makes up for his sloppy movements

he squishes and squeezes at your tits as he sits crisscross on your mattress, staring in fascination. his excitement visibly increases at every mewl and whine from your mouth, jolting at your louder noises and chuckling at your breathless gasps. the softness of your breasts always catches him off-guard, his constant need to cum all over your chest becoming more and more obvious

the lewd sounds of him stroking his cock and you fingering your cunt are all the more prevalent whenever you're lying down together and he's spooning you. he's panting into your hair, wrapping his free arm around your waist from behind as you circle you clit firmly. the obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout your room end up on replay in both your heads for the next day

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him to the hilt

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'wet piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your boypussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark your skin up as well. he's a notorious biter and will not shy away from leaving bruises to ward off competition

he loves cornering you against your wall in the middle of the night - everything from the feeling of your arousal coating onto his fingers as he jerks you off, to the sharpness of your teeth biting into his shoulders as you muffle yourself. his favourite part is feeling your muscles slowly relaxing as you come down from your high

he suckles on your tcock as you leak down and coat his chin in your cum. billy will be a menace and run his cockhead against your hole and use your precum to jack off, coating your heated skin in his thick spend

he loves hearing how ruined the both of you become whenever you fuck yourself on his cock - he has the perfect vantage point to watch you bounce on his lap as he digs his fingers into your waist, sloppy sounds echoing around the room as his balls slap against your ass. billy's panting whimpers sound so pretty as he grits his teeth whenever you clench on his length

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you clench around him. he has a habit of burying his nose in your hair whenever he bottoms out, needing to be drowned in your scent and the feeling of your pussy

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout the night, he mouths at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each throb against his lips

he will swipe a lipstick or two for you - the sight of you with it smeared all over your face after a rough facefucking makes him giggle with glee, the pigment staining the base of his cock. he thinks you're all the more beautiful when he gets to ruin your makeup after you're all done up for him

billy latches onto your tits whenever you're shirtless - he loves leaving teeth marks and bruises around your nipples, practically marking his territory. he especially loves when the purple love-bites peek out over the cup of your bra :>

he loves bending you over your bed whenever he fucks you, your face buried in your pillow to muffle you loud noises as your girlcock dribbles all over your sheets. it's not like billy isn't making a mess either - his drool flying everywhere as he fucks you in a frenzy, balls slapping against the back of your pretty thighs. no matter how much or how deep he cums in you, it always dribbles back out of you and stains your bedding with the drying droplets

_ _ _ _ _

if modern day billy lenz had a ph account and made videos of him masturbating in the dark (while making his weird noises and shit), he would have a solid fanbase of weirdos who find it creepy and hot. i'm saying this as someone who would watch him religiously btw :>

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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rainylana · 1 year

Text

“I’m not ever gonna stop.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: reader and eddie are new parents. reader struggles to keep everything together for eddie.

warnings: dad eddie and mom reader, postpartum depression, new baby and all the things that go with it, language, stressed reader very emotional, breastfeeding.

“Oh, God.” You moaned in exhaustion, back against the closed door to your baby’s nursery after finally getting her to sleep after hours of crying. You opened your eyes, the trailer an absolute wreck. You knew you should listen to your doctor. When the baby sleeps, you sleep, but you had so much to do. Laundry, dishes, dinner. It had been days since you showered, absolutely covered in spit up, formula and piss.

Baby Johanna was only five weeks old, and as amazing and life changing those weeks had been, they’d also been the hardest and most challenged. You were physically and emotionally drained. Completely exhausted. She was the best thing to ever happen to you, without a doubt, but damn, did you miss sleeping a full night. Eddie of course, helped when he could, but he worked full time. Everyday 9 to 5.

Eddie knew you were having a hard time. He felt terrible he couldn’t do more, spend more time at home, but he carried a big responsibility by supporting the finances. You’d called Joyce almost everyday with questions. Why she wouldn’t stop crying? Why she never seemed happy? She fussed all the live long day. You felt so behind on everything. Your house, your life, your husband. You missed showering and wearing deodorant.

Your eyes fixated on your messy home, brain so exhausted and cluttered you didn’t know where to start. Wiping your sweaty face, you pushed yourself off the door to the living room, picking up trash off the floor and cold coffee cups. You cringed when you caught your reflection in the mirror hung above the table. Your hair was falling out of your bun atop of your head. You were pale as snow and had craters under your eyes, lips chapped and cry. Your t shirt was stained and torn at the arm, your black shorts on underneath. You looked horrendous, but house work was more important than a shower.

You were extremely depressed. Well, you didn’t know if you were more exhausted or depressed. Either way, you didn’t feel good. You felt yourself disassociating from your own body, having trouble concentrating and staying focused with your own mind. Half the time, you didn’t feel real. It made you feel crazy, but you couldn’t help it. You’d read about postpartum, Eddie had too, but you legitimately were struggling. Your daughter made it worth it, however. Father hood looked good on Eddie, you hoped he thought the same for you.

Your baby looked just like him. She had dark curls already at her young age, a head full of hair. A little button nose, which Eddie says she got from you. Big brown eyes, from dad. A birthmark on her shoulder, from you. She was the most perfect thing you’d ever seen. It was hard to believe that you made her. It made you incredibly proud.

It had been just ten minutes. You’d gotten a small portion of the living room picked up when she starting screaming again. You had angrily thrown down the trash in your hands to the floor, groaning into your hands as you followed the cry. You’d held her in the rocking chair, trying your best to sooth her. You’d tried feeding her, which hurt badly. You’d never imagine your breasts would be so ginormous.

Another thirty minutes of her crying sent you into a wave of snotty tears until she finally fell asleep in your arms. You’d carefully put her in her crib, tiptoeing and praying to god above she wouldn’t wake up. You full heartedly believed she hated you, or at least was out to get you. She was never happy with you or what she did. Oh, but daddy? She loved him. He never did anything wrong in her eyes.

For the next two hours you tried to settle your baby while you attempted to clean. You never got much done, then she would start to cry again. She wouldn’t touch your boob, her diaper was clean. All she did was cry. You’d called Joyce and she assured you that nothing you were doing was wrong. Babies cried, they went through fits and phases. You just had to let her cry it out.

It was 5:30 when Eddie walked through the door, waving a bundle of red roses. “How’s my best girl!” He cheered, throwing his jacket on the couch.

“Shh, shh!” You panicked, running to cover his mouth. “I just got her back to sleep!”

He cringed under your hand. “Sorry.” He chuckled quietly. “Got ya flowers.”

You smiled softly, taking them in your hands and admiring them. “Thank you. They’re pretty. How was work?” You turned to lay them on the table, stepping over the baby mobile.

“Good. Boss says I’ve got a raise in the future if I pick up more hours.” He opened the fridge for a beer, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“More hours?” You frowned, tucking a hair behind your ear. “Don’t you think you work too much as is?” You tried speaking quietly, collecting all the dirty dishes to put in the sink.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but with little Joey now we could really use the money.” You would have smiled at the endearment he used for your daughter, but the idea of him picking up for hours made your throat grow thick. Eddie was your rock. You yearned for five o’clock at the start of each day.

“Yeah, okay.” You sighed, pushing a curl with your breath. You got out the broom from the closet to sweep the floor.

Eddie took a look around his home, watching how angsty and exhausted you were. He didn’t want to seem like a dick, but he was hungry. “When’s dinner, babe?”

“Oh, fuck.” You stopped your sweeping, head looking up to the ceiling as you closed your eyes. “Damn it, Eddie, I’m sorry,” You threw down the broom, not caring whether or not it made noise. “I’ve been so busy trying to get that…I’d say our daughter but I’m halfway convinced I have birth to some- some- spawn of satan, to sleep!” You stressed, running your hands through your hair.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie chuckled, placing down his beer as he stepped toward you. “Come here,” He pulled you into his arms and you melted into them. “Sorry you had a bad day, baby. Wanna order pizza?”

You mumbled a quiet yeah into his shirt, stifling a yawn. You wanted him to hold you all night, but you had so much to do. You pushed yourself away, grabbing the phone off the counter to hand it to him. “You order pizza and I’ll finish sweeping.”

“Honey,” Eddie peered down at you. “No sweeping. Take a break and sit down with me, yeah?”

You shook your head, sniffling. “No- no, I’ve got too much to do before she wakes up again, I-”

“You can do that tomorrow.” He picked the broom off the floor and put it in the closet. “I’ll order pizza and you go put on your cute little pj’s, alright? Have dinner with me.” He flashed you a million dollar smile.

You frowned, however, looking over the dirty home before you have a singular nod.

•

Today had been a good day. You’d been able to get a half decent night’s sleep, and Johanna wasn’t near as fussy as she had been yesterday. You’d gotten some house work done, cleaned the living room and did the dishes. All you had left was to catch up on laundry and clean your bedroom. You’d taken a shower in the morning before Eddie had left for work, even had breakfast with him.

Right now, you were nursing your baby girl in your arms, neck propped up on a pillow as you sat on the couch, eyes fixated on the game show on the tv. “Ow.” You winced lightly, chuckling as you looked down. “You don’t go very easy on mommy, you know?” Your nipples were extremely tender these days, swollen like a bunch of watermelons. Eddie adored it. It made you waddle just like when you were pregnant.

She’d fallen asleep after nursing for another twenty minutes, allowing you to sit there peacefully after you’d pulled your tank top back over you. Your eyes dropped tiredly, your head just lightly pounding from exhaustion. You looked down at your daughter, her face snuggled against your boob. You took your finger and gently caressed her cheek. She looked so much like Eddie. Her purple onesie was snug, her little belly poking out and her dark curls were messy at the top from all the wiggling around she did. When she was quiet like this, you could think. It really was worth it, all the work and lack of sleep. She made it worth it. Her and Eddie.

Carefully, you laid down on the couch and adjusted her on your chest. She moved just a little bit, her tiny fist gathering your dirty tank top in her hand. You smiled, pulling a blanket over top of you. You weren’t going to sleep. You were extremely paranoid about co-sleeping. Eddie assured you that you were being over dramatic, but you’d read horror stories about it.

You have her a kiss atop of her head and enjoyed the rest of your show.

•

“There’s my girl.” Eddie said in a childlike voice, front door still open from his arrival. You smiled widely as little Jo squealed in her baby mobile on the floor. Eddie threw his stuff down and went to her, lifting her out of her seat and kissing her cheek. “Baby, baby, baby, how’s my baby?” He repeated, lifting her up into the air to blow raspberries on her bellow. “How’s my little Joey Jo?” He tucked her into his side, face red from how hard he smiled, finally turning to you.

“How’s my other girl?” You laughed as he came over to give you a peck on the lips.

“I don’t remember the last time I was thrown into the air like that.”

“Oh, yeah?” He raised a brow, pulling on Jo’s onesie. “You’re in for a fun night, then, little lady.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into his chest to cuddle him and your baby. “How was work?”

“Good.” He kissed the top of your head. “Next week I’m up to another hour. Should be getting home about six o’clock then.”

You sighed, locking eyes with Jo. She didn’t like it either.

“I know, sweetheart, but you know we need the money.” He said remorseful, leaning back to see your face a bit. “It’s just one more hour. Not too bad, right?”

You nodded, pushing yourself away to turn to the sink, turning on the hot water. “Dinner’s on the table. Joyce brought over a lasagna.” You blinked back tears as you waited for the sink to fill up so you could clean the numerous baby bottles.

Eddie looked from the table to you. “You gonna eat with me?”

“Got too much to do.”

He sighed, knowing you were upset about the news, but what else was he supposed to do? Money was essential, and he would do anything to support the both of you.

He gave Jo another kiss before putting her back into the mobile, leaning up against the counter to get a look at your face. He frowned at the sight of your tears. “Baby,”

You sniffled, your hands red from the scolding water. “I’m fine.” You said dismissively. “Just eat your dinner.”

“Hey,” He sat up straight. “Don’t be like that. Talk to me.” He cupped your shoulder.

“I don’t feel like talking.” You brushed his hand off. “I’ve got too much fucking work to do, but you wouldn’t know since you’re not ever fucking here, because you’re always fucking working.” You snapped, throwing a baby bottle at the floor, bubbles splattering across the counter.

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock at your outburst, mouth falling ajar. His pride wanted him to snap right back, but he knew you were right. You got the brunt of parenthood. He wasn’t going through what you were. He heard about the bad days. He didn’t experience them.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice broke, placing your soapy hands on the counter. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired, I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” He swallowed, trying to bring you close.

“Just-” You brushed him away again. “Just eat your dinner, please.” You looked to him with tearful, pleading eyes. “I got too much to do.”

He looked at you in disbelief, while you looked at Joanna. He gave a sad nod before leaving you be.

•

You were sobbing on the floor, baby girl in your arms, propped up by your knees. She’d been crying all day, had barely ever stopped. The house was now again an absolute wreck and you’d gotten nothing done. You had spit up on your neck, dried and irritated. Your breasts were throbbing, sore and tender. She’d about sucked them dry and you cried the entire time. You’d had enough and put her in her crib, hoping she’d cry it out like Joyce said. She had to hate you, why else could you not get her to stop crying. Her feeding schedule was normal, she never had trouble, and while nursing hurt badly, you’d had luck with not getting any clogged ducts.

“Fuck,” You cried after shutting the door. Your chest was bubbled with emotions, teary eyes scanning the mess of your small home. It was hard to move around in there, especially with a baby, but you didn’t want to bother Eddie with requesting a more expensive home. He did enough as is. You’d felt guilty for snapping at him like you did, but you were at your absolute wits end. You were on the floor folding laundry an hour later when Eddie came home.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie smiled, looking around for his daughter. “Joey asleep?”

“Finally.” You glanced up at him briefly. “She’s been crying all day. I haven’t had time to do anything at all.”

“Well,” He sat down beside you, grabbing the clothes from your hand. “I want to take you out tonight. I called Robin and Steve and figured we could all go out to dinner. It’ll be good for you to see them.”

You laughed shortly before continuing your work. “Sounds nice, Eddie, but I’m too busy.”

“Nonsense.” He dismissed, taking the clothes yet again and pulling the both of you off the floor as you protested. “Go take a shower, baby. Joyce is going to babysit. She’s on her way over now.”

He was serious. Your face fell. “Eddie.” You swallowed, sighing heavily. “Please, I- honey, thank you, that’s sweet, but I can’t.”

“Why not?” He raised his hand. “You’ve not been out in weeks. You’re too cooped up in here, doll. You need to get out of the house. Steve and Robin are on their way too.”

“What?” You widened your eyes. “Eddie! No, this place is a disaster!” You panicked, your hair falling out of your messy, lazy braid. “God damnit, Eddie!”

“Oh, come on, don’t start getting mad again.” He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “Y/n, I’m trying to help here, okay? No offense, but you’re not making it very easy on me.”

“Oh, my god.” You squeezed your eyes shut, running your hands through your hair. “I’m so damn sorry that you’re having a hard time, Eddie!”

“You don’t have to be so rude all the time, you know?” He threw down his work jacket, taking a step with his heavy boots. “I bust my ass all day and have to worry about the money because I don’t want you worrying about that shit! You’ve got enough on your plate, I know you do, but so do I! Now, will you just let me please take you out?”

“Eddie,” You sobbed, your internal damn breaking. “Eddie, I can’t. The house is such a mess and I have so much to do.” Your face crumpled into tears of hysterics, your hands moving from your sides to your belly. “I’m sorry- I’m trying s-so hard to keep everything together for you but I can’t- god, she hates m-me!” You sniffled, node snotty and red.

“Y/n,” He sighed, face relaxing into a frown.

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “I love her so much but- but it’s just..how am I supposed to do this everyday! I’m so exhausted and I smell and my boobs hurt so bad!” You sobbed, shoulders shaking from the weight of your heartache. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bitch, I’m so sorry-”

“Hey, hey, hey, shh,” He gathered you close, arms entangling around you tightly, hoping to ease your pain. “It’s alright, it’s alright, baby, calm down, shh,” He rocked you, large palm smoothing your hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“I don’t feel pretty anymore.” You wept into his shoulder.

“You’re beautiful.” He squeezed you. “You’re always beautiful to me. I’m so sorry you’ve been struggling so much. I should’ve been paying more attention. I didn’t realize things had gotten so bad.” He kissed your shoulder, then your cheek.

“I just want you to be proud of me.” You sniffled. “I feel like such a mess and this house, this house that you pay for, I can’t ever keep fucking clean.”

“Honey, I am proud of you.” He took your face in his hands. “I’m so proud of you. The things your body can do is incredible. The things you do every day is incredible. Watching you be a mother is the most amazing thing I know I’m ever going to witness. You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Credit for what?” You groaned, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “For complaining? For being ungrateful?”

“You’re not ungrateful.” He softened his brown eyes. “You’re having a hard time. It doesn’t make you ungrateful.”

“I’m just sorry.” You whimpered. “Do you still love me?”

He couldn’t help but smile at your innocence. “I’m not ever gonna stop.”

He wound up calling Steve shortly after and told him it would be another time, and that he needed to take care of his girls. He pampered you all night and made sure you didn’t lift a finger cleaning the house. He fed the baby with her bottle while you took a shower, tidying things up along the way. Your shower was almost forty five minutes. He’d ordered chinese food and had it ready when you got out. Joanna sat in her playpen while you both ate.

It really wasn’t much to Eddie, but these actions to you meant more than he could ever say. You laid on his chest on the couch, watching wheel of fortune until you both drifted off to sleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie x new mom #eddie munson x y/n

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inner-viper · 9 months

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Why is my FS attracted to me? (Short Ver)

Hello, this is Inner Viper and I decided to focus on channeled messages. My tarot divination skills have been improving. It’s been a year since I have been practicing tarot, it’s been my whole life since I have been practicing my intuition, like everyone else lol. I took a break from my Patreon and this blog because I have a full-time job but I am going back to school so hopefully I will have more time for consistent uploads. I do want to go on lives here, but I might create a youtube channel to upload pac readings. If I do go down that route then I’ll probably do live readings on there. I’ll let you guys know if I do decide that!

If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

Remember to choose the image that is calling out to you. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t because this is a general pac reading. Some messages are not meant for you, while other messages aren’t meant for you. Also, this is meant to give you insight, not concrete evidence.

I hope you enjoy the reading for today!

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Pile 1

I am getting the energy of them being attracted to your work ethic. Perhaps you are a very committed individual, you may have a lot of projects underway. You know how to build and develop things to flourish. You may be extremely creative and they notice these things about you, I also am sensing that they love the smaller things about you too. Perhaps you do a certain face when you get something you want or dislike. It’s a unique facial expression, they like how expressive you are. They love the way you daydream about the smaller things in life too. They want to know what is going on inside your head, they want a small peak into your world. The way you perceive things and the way you speak is intellectually stimulating towards them too. They could spend hours just speaking to you about multiple topics. They also think you are fine asf.

Pile 2

Are you emo? They like your dark aesthetic, like the gloomy look you have going on. Honestly, it’s like all you have in your wardrobe is all black and they love that. They love the way you dress and the way you smile. They think you are an enigma, you have a contrast to yourself. If you aren’t having a dark aesthetic then it could be vice versa too. Let’s say you have a cute theme going on but your personality is super serious, yet you like these small cute things. I am honestly picking up in this pile that a majority of you really like Kuromi or any Hello Kitty stuff. Which is cute! They love the contrast in you and they are always amazed at how you are so different than most people. I am getting some non-conformist energy too. The love you for who you are.

Pile 3

They love how you are a bad bitch. I feel like mainly women choose this pile but if you aren’t then I feel like you just have a badass energy to you. They love how you look tough and mean like you give off mean-girl vibes but you aren’t one. They find you to be so sexy and alluring because of the way you present yourself too. Perhaps you find yourself meeting people and them saying “Oh, I thought you were mean at first” because that’s the type of energy I am getting. They love the way you move when you dance or are freely doing your own thing. They love it when you are so expressive because they themselves feel free with you. One of the other things they love about you is your jokes, they find you to be so funny.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Thank you for reading! If you want a paid reading please check out my list here.

#pac #tarot #hellenic pagan #pagan witch #pick a card #witchcraft #paganism #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot pick a card #fs pac #pac tarot #pac future spouse #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture #tarot reading #tarot community #daily tarot

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koiiiiijiii · 2 months

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finishing ur requests? uum no. another idea nobody asked about? yes pls💯💯

wooin x sis!reader (platonic)

author’s note : after last chapter i had this headcanon in my head. i suspect that wooin grew up in toxic household where his parents make him study, locking him up in his room, but boy probably was dreaming about just be free, and once left home. i also suspect his family probably has the same wealth as minu, but his parents way more toxic and controlling. but when he left home he left his part there, the part of his soul.

honesty 1000% in love how some ppl just ignored my closed inbox and keep sent requests🤣🤍🫵🏻 seriously guys, the best!! i will answer all requests, almost all is in process(i mean at least 20-40% already done) but now enjoying my time at home😌💌🔒

warnings : no(?) lil fluff, lil angst, nothing hardcore, prob grammar mistakes(not proofed as all my writings)

༘⋆ wooin is older sibling 100%

༘⋆ when his parents told him he will have a sister, when he was 3 or 4 he was jealous, and whole 9 months he waited for someone who will ruin his life

༘⋆ but instead, when your father brought you and your mum to home from hospital, wooin was confused

༘⋆ he only saw a small girl, no one who could harm him in any way

༘⋆ your first ever smile was for him, or because of him by the way!! and he blushed so so much when your small hand clung to his index finger

༘⋆ so he built a soft spot for you in his heart in two years, because first years you’ve been crying, screaming and sobbing mess, well like all toddlers, while wooin was saying that he was too old to babysit you (bro was like 5-6 years old and crying himself to sleep bc didn’t understand how 10*10 equals 100 and 11*11 didn’t equal 111)

༘⋆ btw you were always silent when he was babysitting you. he chuckled each time when you looked at him with wide open eyes

༘⋆ through his childhood your parents were extremely strict with him, so he partly grateful to you for the fact that you took some attention on yourself and gave him the opportunity to be free from his studies and lectures from your parents for a while

༘⋆ but each year atmosphere in your home becomes more toxic, and when you grow up a little you could remember how wooin was locked in his room to study better, because he didn’t have acceptable marks

༘⋆ but you would always sneak in his room late at night, with your saved from the morning sweets and share some with him

༘⋆ you both favorite was lollipops with lemon favors tho!!

༘⋆ when you were about 13 years old, wooin left the house, he was 17

༘⋆ no need to say that your parents were furious. especially your father. in korea it’s common that son is inherits family business or work, so it’s always been a big scandal over his marks, behavior and look

༘⋆ so when he left, for you it meant that all the attention and rigor of your parents were transferred to you

༘⋆ atter the first couple of months of your brother's absence, he found the strength to meet with you

༘⋆ wooin knew perfectly that parents rage will reflect on you, and honestly he were scared - that you will hate him

༘⋆ when he met you near your school, he froze for few seconds and then hugged you so tight that you thought he was about to break your ribs (you returned him that favor)

༘⋆ you two always were close, wooin was your freshness in a house full of stuffy, stagnant air, while you was his little sunshine of hope and happiness in his dark, locked room

༘⋆ you didn’t have a lot of time after your school, so you just hugged tightly and exchanged phone numbers, so you could stay in touch

༘⋆ few days after you find the way to sneak out of the house to meet with your brother you spend few hours on a bench talking and listening to each other

༘⋆ - how are the relatives? on a scale of one to fucked up, how angry were they?

- fucked up in a cube, you know our dad, he wasn't just furious, from the screams from their room, i think he literally lost his temper

༘⋆ wooin just chuckled sadly and rubbed his neck with the palm of his hand

༘⋆ as the years passed, your nightly meetings continued. sometimes he would catch you after school or another after-school club where your parents had put you

༘⋆ wooin offered you to run away to him several times. by your senior year in school, he was self-supporting, and he even had some white-haired giant working for him, constantly pining after him

༘⋆ somehow you refused, deciding to finish school first and then he promised to help you with either work or university, depends on what you will choose

༘⋆ yes, guys from sabbath know you

༘⋆ yes, heyok once caught you two hugging

*wooin pressed his lips on top of your head, tightly shutting his eyes, frowning a little, he didn’t know when he will see you again, because he knew, in exam session parents won’t let you have a free second*

༘⋆ in first place heyok though you two dating, but then joker explained him how things actually going(my headcanon that they gossip girls, frfr)

༘⋆ since you hanged out with wooin you caught your brother’s manners of jokes

༘⋆ “hey, big bro, does that new red haired guy in your team have a girlfri..”

“don’t you even dare to finish this sentence” he exclaimed indignantly. no way his precious little sis will deal with that motherfucker.

#[ ~ koi.talks🗣]#x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #headcanon #webtoon #windbreaker headcanon #wooin #wooin x reader #wooin windbreaker #sabbath crew #wooin sabbath #imagine #joker windbreaker #sabbath windbreaker

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 2 months

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''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader 18+ MDNI

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :5133

Warnings below the cut

Special thanks to: @pterodactylterrace for spelling and grammar tips!!!:) ((it is much appriciated friend!)x

CW: Mention of oc's mother dying in childbirth, mention of treasons, also vaginal sex, oral sex (f recieving) fucking, dirty talk, smut, aemond being a little dark but nothing too extreme! Discussion of murder.

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Only a few days ago, your brother swore he would restore your house, house Marthyralys back to it’s former glory, back to where it was during Maegor’s time. Your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys was a council member for king Maegor. His crimes eventually ended with him on the stake, being burned by dragon fire and ending with your family being banished from Westeros for almost a century.

That was until you and your brother Fyrand returned to the Seven Kingdoms. You remember how you first entered the Red

Keep, your hands shaking and your eyes scanning every inch of every room, taking in as much security detail and doors as you could. It was clear to you that these silver-haired people were not your friends. They were your enemies. Your brother, Fyrand, said so himself multiple times.

The Targaryens frightened you. Of course they did. They were your father’s killer, your older brother's killers, the reason your house became dragonless, why you almost starved to death. And aside from that, Targaryens are known for their short tempers and long grudges, their insanity and incest. There is much to fear from the dragon people. And so you do.

And now, two days later, you are married to the King's son, Prince Aemond Targargyen. He won the duel for your hand against Prince Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s heir. You assumed Fyrand would prefer Jacaerys, as it would be his mother that one day will become Queen, but for some reason unknown to you, he had already made peace and assumed Aemond would win the duel. He was very certain of it when you visited him in the dungeon.

And he was right, as always.

Prince Aemond won the duel and humiliated prince Jacaerys. The wedding ceremony followed the same evening, as was custom in your house. The one-eyed Prince had done his research into your house, your brother, your traditions…even you. He knew of the full day rule when it comes to duel-marriages, and he used it to his advantage by forcing you into marriage with him on the same day he won your hand.

Fyrand simply had asked you to keep the prince happy and so far you like to think you succeeded. You have done your duties and even went as far to sleep with Aemond, which was surprisingly pleasant. He was not the beast he wants the world to think he is. He has not hit you. Not once. Nor forced you or hurt you. He is gentle. Kind, in a way. And so unmistakably broken.

Your brother assumed you would have no trouble winning Jacaerys and Aemond over, and in his head that might have made sense but outside of that skull, there is no magic in your veins. You can’t just snap your fingers and make Aemond fall in love with you. He is his own person and you have the feeling that even if you tried to manipulate him into doing your bidding, it would either be too obvious or end up in an argument.

Ever since you were born, you were loyal to your house. But now that you are married, you are starting to doubt everything you ever know. Aemond shows you kindness and grants you protection in ways you never thought possible. Ways you never dared to even dream of.

But the rest of his kin, his blood and his fire that roams the halls of the red keep, hells, even the bloody servants and the guards, from the kitchen wenches to the maids cleaning your chamber pots: They all despise you and your brother for the crimes of your ancestors. There is no winning these people over with whining by Aemond’s side, you need to show them that you are different. But how? Your personal life does not matter, it is your last name that defies you and that is still Marthyralys and not Targaryen, for better or for worse.

And therefore you are worried that you will never be accepted into the Red Keep. Not truly. At first, that did not matter to you. But now that you have met and came to know Aemond, you already developed complicated feelings for him in a very short time. And you know: You want his mother to like you. To at least approve of you. For the sake of your brother’s plans and Aemond’s approval.

She’s his mother, yes. But also the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You can imagine that Fyrand would like it if you became her friend, or even trusted advisor, some honerably position among court.

You are preparing for the meeting by putting on a different, less pious gown. Your old gown is disposed of, It slides down your body, bearing you half naked in front of your husband, who does his best to pretend to be busy with his book to notice. However, you notice his good eye, sometimes briefly lifting from the words on paper taking secret glances at your body instead. As if he’s not your husband yet, as if he is not entitled to you. ‘’Does your mother have a preference for a dress?’’ You ask him, as you pillage the closet that servant earlier had filled with gowns for you. Red, black, green, gold and even silver gowns end up on the ground as you quickly look everything over, your head drowning in fabrics and ideas of what Alicent Hightower would approve of.

Aemond no longer pretends to read, slamming the book shut so carelessly that you doubt he was even reading to begin with. ‘’She loves wearing green.’’ He says, politely, smiling and clearing trying to talk you into picking a green dress.

‘’That’s what I’m afraid of.’’ You mutter. You wearing green would be a declaration of war to Princess Rhaenyra. She would see it as an allyship with Alicent. And for now, it’s important to play and appease both sides, Fyrand told you that before you left Pentos.

‘’I would like it as well.’’

Aemond continues to push you slightly, standing up from the chair he was sitting on. His hands wrap around your waist as he puts the green dress in front of you, eyeing you despite standing behind you all thanks to the big mirror in his room. You nervously bite down on your lips, tasting a bit of blood. He picked a dark green gown with sleeves made of dark lace. The back is also made of lace almost exclusively for the corners. It is a beautiful gown. ‘’You’d look beautiful in this gown. Although,’’ He lowers his voice, whispering in your ear. ‘’I can’t make any promises it won’t be ripped before the next sunrise.’’

‘’When I rip it off your body when we are home, tonight.’’ He leaves several soft kisses on your neck, all the way to both your shoulders.

You stagger on your feet, shocked and pleasantly affected by his words. He grins, pleased with the effect and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek. ‘’Pick whatever you like, but know that Green is superior.’’ Those words echo a lot in your head as you compare the dress to a red more modest gown with less lace made of modest silk.

You doubt if Alicent would appreciate you showing up half covered in her rooms, wearing the lace green dress. It also perhaps would be chilly or awkward to wear as well.

So, you pick up the red dress. The fabric feels much softer, much more pleasant and warmer. You let your fingers pet and slide along the fabric, following where the stitches were once put. There is a golden belt to accompany the dress, a thin accessory. The shoulders have subtle details, but you can tell it is supposed to represent dragonscales. Perhaps a nice dress if you are meeting with Rhaenyra.

You hold the dress to your body, imagining yourself in the lush fabric. ‘’Hm. Opposite of Green.’’ Aemond comments, from where he leans against his desk. He pretends to be busy with cleaning it, putting aside quills, vials of ink and parchment.

You put the red gown back on the bed, and instead pick up a gorgeous soft blue coloured gown, with silver patterns of swirls on the sleeves.

‘’Blue?’’ You ask Aemond, tilting your head slightly.

He has one response and it is not a pleasant one. His nose slightly rises in disapproval and his stance becomes closed, as if he reminds himself to be careful around you. ‘’You do as you wish.’’

You sigh, careful to not roll your eyes at that. What a horrible answer. You do as you wish is not only dismissive, impersonal and cold but also vague. He truly seemed to care about the dress a moment ago and now he pretends he does not care at all? Who does he think he’s with? Your memory is not failing you yet.

You feel a sting and have to fight the tears, but instead of running away or hiding from him, you stand up to him. ‘’Don’t be like that. Just say you don’t like the gown.’’ In another time, you would’ve ran or cowered. Not anymore. No longer.

Aemond sighs, still with his mind elsewhere. ‘’It’s not the gown I don’t like…’’ He murmurs.

You wonder if it’s you he does not like anymore. ‘’Revaera,’’ he tries to touch you but you step out of his reach. Aemond sighs. ‘’I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t like the color blue.’’ He says. ‘’You wear what you want. Green, black, blue, fuck it, go nude. You’re a Princess now. Someone will always be offended.’’ And that is the truth and it terrifies you. Someone will always be offended. How do you please a world that will never be happy?

You look over the gowns, but can’t stand to wear the blue or red one anymore. But going with green is also not an option. You dig a bit further into the pile of gowns, and eventually you stumble upon a beautiful purple with silver piece. Your fingers touch the silverwork, feeling the metal. The last time you saw these colors, they were on your brother Kagyr, your mother Roysa, and your father Laeyol’s caskets. Purple, violet almost so dark purple it's nearly black, and clear untroubled silver. Symbolizing the pride and the unity of your house. You hear yourself take a deep breath. You tug the dress with you. You first put it on your body, fitting it without lacing the corset.

You dismissed all your maids and ladies maids, or rather, Aemond did that. ‘’I wish we didn’t dismiss all my maids.’’ You tell him, laughing despite a few lonely tears escaping your eyes. You do it subtly, so he does not notice it.

Yet your face is turned toward his own anyway, and he wipes away the tears, before leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. ‘’We can always hire other people.’’ Instead of calling someone else in, he steps behind you, and grabs the laces of your corset. He laces it for you. You look a lot better than you did a few days ago, and with you finally dressed and proper you two can go meet the Queen.

Aemond and you walk to her chambers. Your husband has long legs and could be there long before you but instead trails behind you to ensure you are not alone in the Keep. When passing statues and portraits, Aemond tells you about the history of the people behind it, making the trip to his mother’s rooms entertaining, and useful. You know some things about the Targaryens, but more information is crucial to your survival out here.

Aemond walks as a true prince, hands folded on his back, back straightened and his pace slow as if he is in no rush to get there, despite his long legs making this challenge impossible.

Soon, instead of late you both arrive in front of a majestic looking door that already somehow tells you just exactly who is waiting behind it. These are the Queen’s chambers. Her rooms, her den, in a way. The page announces you both, as the doors swing open.

You gulp, feeling the nails on your left hand in an impulse to pull again, but you have no more nails to pull or to rip off your fingers.

You and your husband both walk in.

When you enter the lavious and luxurious rooms of the Queen, she is sitting on a bench, with her feet pulled up under her. She reads an old looking book, her mind elsewhere, clearly.

Aemond politely clears his throat, and Alicent’s red haired head snaps up in his direction. You see kindness and love in her eyes, in a way you never saw yourself. You see a mother looking at her child. Her smile dies the moment she sees you, however. ‘’Ah, Aemond. There you finally are.’’ She says, ignoring you as if you are air. You keep smiling regardless, as you do want her to approve of you.

The tender, loving slender hands of your husband find your own once again, as he whisks you away to his mother, showing you to her, introducing you formally to the Queen. ‘’Mother, I brought someone. This is Revaera, my lady, and my wife.’’ Try as he might, Aemond Targaryen cannot stop the smile that slowly grows on his lips as he speaks those words, and he seems a different man when he looks at you.

You understand now is the moment to show your respect. You make a curtsy for the Queen. Alicent sits back down, closing the book.‘’I am glad you brought her here.’’ She tells Aemond, and you can’t help but uncomfortable at that. They are like farmers talking about their broodmare. Your opinion is clearly not required.

Your husband reaches out to touch his mother, hugging her in such a gentle way unfamiliar to you. You wonder what he is feeling when he hugs his mother. Does she feel warm? Did your own mother feel warm, did she hold you like that, before she died? Did she smell as nice as Alicent? Dozens of questions you never will get answers to.

The pain of seeing another child with their mother, is unfamiliar to you. You would never wish for another to go through what you did. But why did you have to go through that regardless?

The two break their hug, unaware of your feelings and your pain. Aemond gestures a bit vaguely to you. ‘’You told me you had questions for her.’’

Whatever could she want, indeed. She’s queen of the seven kingdoms, has a husband and you have been kind to anyone here except…

You close your eyes, softly cursing yourself. This is about that handmaid that you hit. The one who called you unworthy of carrying Aemond’s children. You just know it, when you see the poorly hidden rage in Alicent’s eyes.

Somehow you should have know that Alicent provided the maids, and that in upsetting them, you upsetted her. You came in this room wishing for a allyship, you are lucky if you leave this room with mutual displeasure instead of a conflict.

Alicent nods, smiling at you. She turns to her son, her locks briefly turning so they catch the light of the chandelier. ‘’Yes, thank you for bringing her here. Aegon needs your help in his chambers. I’m afraid it is quite urgent.’’ The queen speaks, sweet as a fox. Aegon is Aemond’s brother. You have yet not spoken a word to him. You know he is the elder brother, despite Aemond being taller. Despite that he was present during the duel and your introduction, he did appear to be there with his mind at all. He was a ghost.

The expression on your husband’s face pains you, as you can see he is in clear conflict. He is ordered by his mother, by his Queen to help his brother. But he is also bound to you, his wife and his lady.

As much as it scares you to be alone, to be alone without Aemond to protect you, as you have discovered pretty early that your word means nothing without him, you know you must confront Alicent alone. She will never be honest with her son near her. ‘’It is alright, husband. I am quite certain I have nothing to fear of her grace, the Queen.’’ Famous last words, perhaps.

Alicent returns your smile, very pleased with your words. Aemond grabs your face with both his hands, gently and caresses your cheeks. He kisses you soft and kindly, respectful of his mother watching you both. ‘’I shall return soon.’’ He promises you. You hope he is right.

Aemond finally takes his leave and Alicent gestures to the lavious armchair across the small bench she is sitting on, inviting you to come sit. And so you do.

The moment you sit down, she begins her questions. ‘’I understand your life has been anything but uneasy.’’ She pauses when she sees you pinching and clawing at your own skin, in lack of nails to pull. She tries to hide it but you can see she is very distraught. She sits up straight. Unexpectedly she comes a bit closer, yet keeps her distance. As if she does not know yet if she wants to come closer or stay away.

You hear her words, silent. Why does she care? Yet you nod, agreeing with her. Your life has been uneasy. Your mother died, your father tried to kill the king, your house was exiled and poor, you nearly starved and your drunk of a one-handed brother almost daily abused you. It has not been easy.

And yet, here you sit. Alive. Whatever that is worth. Alicent takes a deep, shaky breath. It catches your attention, and when you look into her eyes you see small tears shimmering, despite her efforts to hide it. ‘’I must know, for my own sake. How does Aemond treat you?’’ You think back of the few days you have known your husband. He has been kind, gallant, gentle. A dream come true, a breaker of your chains, a light of hope you cling to in utter darkness. But why does she care?

‘’He treats me well, your Grace.’’

‘’My ladies reported they found blood on Aemond’s bed linen. You can tell me,’’ she reaches out to grab your hands. ‘’Anything, Revaera. I am not angry with you.’’ You become uneasy at her treatment, perhaps even insecure and worried.

You would not feel comfortable with lying about how well Aemond treats you. So you tell her the truth, despite you feel umcomfertable sharing such personal details and matters. ‘’Aemond and I consummated the marriage. That was expected of us both, so we did that.’’ Your voice sounds a bit snappy, and you hope that the Queen reads your body lanagune that you do not want to talk about it at all.

But to think a Hightower would just give up, would be a mistake. ‘’How did that happen, Revaera? Did he force you?’’ She asks, folding her hands against her lap.

You shake your head.

‘’No. I went willingly. It was ..pleasant, in a way, your grace.’’

Alicent seems relieved, almost happy by those words. ‘’You are happy, then? With my son?’’

You feel heat creep up to your cheeks when you think about your husband, your prince Aemond. Happiness is an unfamiliar, strange, alien, concept to you. You have never been really happy. You don’t know what that feels like. But Aemond makes you feel safe, respected and as if you matter. That is enough, for now.

‘’I’d say so, your Grace.’’ You nod to confirm your words.

She sighs, clear relief written on her face. ‘’I am glad, you are happy and both have respect for each other. A marriage without mutual respect is a marriage destined to fail.’’ You know it is unwise to speak when Alicent speaks, as she is the Queen. So instead, you sit there, nodding, as if you lost your tongue.

‘’I am afraid we must discuss a unpleasant matter.’’ Alicent says, suddenly very sharp. You gulp.

‘’I heard you abused a servant.’’

‘’She told me I was unfit to marry Aemond. That I was a traitor and a …whore.’’ You mutter. ‘’I do regret hitting her. I do. Aemond told me not to worry about it, but the truth is: I do worry. I worry a lot.’’

The door behind you opens, and your husband walks inside. You are relieved to see him, standing up. He makes a respectful bow for his mother, and after he has done that rushes to your side, to kiss you. ‘’You both seem well.’’ He observes. ‘’I hope your conversation was a pleasant one.’’

He stands next to you, hands folded on his back as you take a seat in the chair. ‘’Is your brother alright?’’ You ask. He thinks long before you get an answer.

‘’My brother is…my brother. He is fine.’’

That is a relief. And somehow also a concern.

Alicent is silent. ‘’Aemond, is it true that my handmaids have spoken about Revaera’s virtue? Did they call her a …whore?’’

He nods. ‘’Yes. I meant to speak to you about that, Mother.’’ His tone is still gentle and kind. He continues. ‘’I know it was not your fault, Mother. You likely thought they were well, kind and good for Revaera. But they were not kind or good or well for her. Not at all.’’

He takes a deep breath.

‘’Revaera has become a Princess of House Targaryen. She is my lady and my wife, one day she will become the mother of my children, gods willing.’’ You can’t help but feel even more heat rush to your cheeks at that description. Desire and fear fight in your head. Your own mother died when birthing you, and now Aemond wants to do the same with you? But to remain childless, forever out of fear…It is a big conflict. One that won’t be solved easily.

He continues, making wild movements with his hands. ‘’So, I cannot, we, as House Targaryen cannot, let this insult stand. We cannot have our servants or who else spread rumours about my wife’s purity.’’ You don’t like the sound of the finality in his voice. The sound of a man who is hurt and shamed and must restore his honour.

‘’What do you suggest, Aemond?’’ Alicent asks, and you are prepared for anything but what Aemond chooses to say.

His licks his lips briefly, his good eye so focused on you that it makes you uneasy. He is good at staring. ‘’I want them all hanged.’’ He reveals, after a brief moment, shocking you.

‘’Aemond! You can’t mean that.’’ You say, instantly. ‘’Surely a mistake was made-’’

He ignores you, planting you back in your chair firmly but gentle. He cups your chin into his hands, touching and caressing it. ‘’But I do.’’ he insists. ‘’By questioning your virtue, they question if you were pure for me.’’

You become uncomfortable once more, as you were more than pure for him. He was your first. You turn your head away. Aemond lifts it, forcing you to look into his one eye as he speaks. ‘’By questioning your purity, they question any future children we might have. Your life could be in danger, as well as the life of any child we may have. That is why I am so angry.’’ He finishes, and you understand him a bit more, but still…

You already blame yourself for your mother’s passing. What will become of you when another soul is added to that list? ‘’Fine. But only the woman that said I was a whore. The other two shall live.’’ You declare, as if it is up to you. Aemond chuckles, kissing your cheeks.

‘’I understand you have a kind, gentle heart, my wife but this is not an insult. ‘Tis high-treason.’’ And Targaryens have only one answer to that. Two, actually. One word in high-valyrian and one in the common tongue. ‘’Dracarys’’ and ‘’Behead’’.

Yet you don’t give up. You can sway your husband. You must. ‘’At least spare the girl that talked with you. You know the one. The kind one, who regretted her actions. Surely, a good man must know when to forgive?’’

To that, Aemond is briefly speechless. He thinks himself a good man.

Alicent sighs.

‘’What shall we do with her, Revaera? After she was caught, no one wanted her as their maid anymore.’’ You can imagine that must be a dealbreaker for many of the guests at the red keep.

But not for you.

‘’Have her become mine.’’ You say.

—

The maid is known as Dyana. She is a kind, humble servant from flea bottom, and you need to tell her several times to stop apologizing to you. She is very thankful. You told her she should thank Aemond for changing his mind, but she is convinced you had a hand in it. You did of course. She is lacing up your gown for the evening supper.

You and the Targaryens will have dinner tonight. It is your first official dinner and it worries you. Will you live up to the expectations? Will you do well? ‘’You have nothing to worry for.’’ Dyana assures you. ‘’Just keep smiling.’’

That is an easy one for you.

You leave Aemond’s room at last, bumping into your husband. ‘’Aemond.’’ You greet him, politely. He grins mischievously, briefly looking around for witnesses. Once he has concluded there are none, he gently pushes you against the castle walls, kissing you fiercely and without shame. You moan against his lips, lost in pleasure as he gives you dozens of little kisses on your shoulders that all feel like little bites at the same time. They pierce through your skin and leave memories and marks. Your husband grins, madly in love with you. ‘’Yes, wife?’’ He greets you, teasingly. You stutter, your cheeks heated once more. ‘’I-’’ He silences you with a grin. ‘’I think we may skip supper this once. I am in the mood for a certain Marthyralys delicacy.’ He traces a finger down your throat, slowly pulling down your gown a bit, so he may have a look at your breasts. ‘’I wish to taste my wife, properly.’’ He whispers. ‘’You will like it. I promise.’’ He adds, when he sees your worry. ‘’I told you, I would never do anything you would not like, and I meant it.’’ You pant, softly, whimpering as he kisses you again. Aemond opens the door to your bedroom again. You are turned around, your back facing his front as he works on your corset. ‘’Aemond, we have promised we would be there for supper.’’ You tell him, as you hear him breath heavily with anticipation and lust. You wonder if itll feel as pleasant as the first time.

Aemond chuckles, amused. ‘’Have we? I seem to have come down with a terrible headache. I can’t possibly attend.’’ He says, blinking at you. You realize that is him winking. Your dress is finally pulled down, as are your small clothes. Aemond throws his eyepatch on the bed, pushing you next to it. Your hands intertwine as Aemond pulls his pants down, revealing his already erected member. Your head hits the front of a pillow as your husband parts your legs, feeling your wetness and slith. He grins, rubbing your shimmering, wet pearl as you whimper, at his mercy fully. ‘’You were going to attend supper like this? Soaked up, ready for my cock?’’ He whispers in your ear. ‘’Were you hoping I would bend you on the table between two plates of food and gave you a good through nice, warm, fucking?’’ His fingers increase in speed and you notice him smirking as his face becomes closer to your entrance. Eventually, he levels it and you watch as his tongue comes out, taking a good and proper lick of you. You gasp, twist, under his grip and finally you feel pleasure waves hit your body as Aemond feasts upon your body. He moans as well, giving you fuckings with his fingers and licking you at the same time.

You cry out. He grins. He is taunting you. You think. You can taunt him back. You look at his swollen length, wrapping your fingers around it, and start touching it. Aemond growls. You smile, innocently and stop touching him the moment his length nearly jumps, ready with delicious white precum you can’t wait to lick off. Aemond grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you to his face. He kisses you one last time, before you end up on your back. ‘’Do you want this?’’ He asks one final time. You nod. Aemond grabs your legs, leveling himself back inside of you. You sigh in bliss and pleasure as he begins to push. It as if he never truly left. Your hips join in this time, surprising the prince in a pleasant way. ‘’Yes, my wife. Just so.’’ He tells you, kissing your forehead. He picks up the speed, making the movements and what men call ‘’fucking’’ go faster and harder. Your needy cunt is being taunted by his lenght and skill and you would very much like to feel as good as the first time. ‘’Please.’’ You beg soft in his ear.

‘’Pleasuring you is my duty.’’ He whispers back in your ear, before giving you a firm hard trust. You cry out, bucking your hips back. Aemond answers by taking you harder and harder on your back, fucking you so hard that you have tears of pain and pleasure. He keeps going until your soft whimpers become cries and your cries become desperate needy screams. He gives you one final time to beg for it. ‘’Please.’’ You whisper. And then, he gives it his all with a final push, sending you down in a spiral of insanity and pleasure your body can’t really handle. Your body spasms and your mind feels wonderfully blank as all there is your husband, lining himself up at your entrance and emptying his load inside of you. You have come.

‘’Good girl.’’ Aemond whispers, knowing you appreciate that. ‘’So proud.’’ He adds, kissing your sweaty hair. He gently pats your hair. ‘’I think we’ll have some servants bring us some food. As delicious as your cunt was, I can’t survive on it alone.’’ You nod. He smiles, and tucks you in as you are used to. After that, you both have supper in your bed. But the dessert? You already had the dessert. A bit earlier.

Oh, they nasty-

Anyway, thanks for reading along with me!:) Soon we'll see people hang i guess? And everyone's favourite character Fyrand returns! And also, Revaera will meet Daemon, that is sure to be interesting.....Thanks for reading!:))

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