Tumgik
#and continue to give him less clothes
johnnysuhbmarine · 7 months
Text
Never had to manifest this hard before but…
✨ 🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
🕯️ Johnny will actually 🕯️ ✨
🕯️ have lines in this 127 🕯️
✨ 🕯️ comeback 🕯️
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️ ✨
41 notes · View notes
percheduphere · 6 months
Text
LET'S TALK ABOUT LOKI'S SHOES (ACTUALLY, HIS WHOLE WARDROBE)
Tumblr media
Production costs aside, clothes tell the audience about how characters think of themselves.
Loki's shoes in the S2 finale raised a lot eyebrows, but I find them quite fitting: they are comfortable, practical, and most importantly, they are humble. The camera brings this to our attention to communicate his evolution in character.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Loki has always dressed well, often times ostentatiously. Whether he is at war, passing as a Midgardian, or held captive as an Asgardian prisoner, Loki communicates his social class and sense of superiority through clothing. For him, clothing armors his fragile sense of self and against others' opinions of him. He intends to be perceived as deadly charming but ultimately unapproachable.
Tumblr media
His attire in the first Thor movie is roughly equal parts green and gold, signifying his royal status. His style is dressed down for his brother's misadventures in Jotenheim, yet overall both silhouettes are lofty, princely, but not hardened or threatening.
Tumblr media
In Avengers, Loki's look has more black and leather, with exaggerated emphasis on his shoulders meant to intimidate as he assumes the role of villain. The silhouette is very hard, heavy, and edgy. Gold detailing is prevalent as well. Combined with the goat's helm, this is Loki's most pretentious outfit, which speaks to an undercurrent of low self-esteem and a compulsive need to impress. There's no mistaking he is the main antagonist of the story.
Tumblr media
In Thor 2, Loki's attire is similar to Avengers but the overcoat is exchanged for a less bulky version (perhaps conveying he is less guarded now that the effects of the Mind Stone are no longer influencing him). Loki's role likewise pivots from the harsh lines of a villain to the more flexible edges of a reluctant villain-turned-ally. This aligns with his character arc when he protects both Jane and Thor, seemingly sacrificing himself.
Tumblr media
In Thor 3, Loki's silhouette is streamlined even further. The overcoat is done away with in favor of what appears to be a leather doublet, pauldrons, and vambraces. Gold accents are minimal. While stylish, Loki's attire is more practical than showy, and his helm serves the dual purpose of protection as well as weaponry. At this point in his arc, Loki has become a full antihero, joining his brother's side in rescuing as many Asgardians as possible, and eventually dying in a vain bid to protect Thor from Thanos.
Tumblr media
The TVA does something very fun and interesting in taking away Loki's ability to dress himself. Since Loki cannot use his magic in the TVA, he is forced to wear the same clothing as his captor/advocate, who eventually becomes his best friend and peer.
Tumblr media
Perhaps, on a subconscious level, this helped Loki to feel included. We know by his pwn admission that Loki fears being alone and desperately craves a sense of belonging. At the same time, he intentionally dresses to put people at a distance, thereby protecting himself from potential rejection at the cost of isolating himself further.
When Mobius gives him that TVA jacket for the first time, Loki seems uncharacteristically pleased. It is not an attractive jacket by any means, yet he neither scoffs at it nor refuses to wear it. Instead, Loki puts it on and is content when Mobius says it looks "smart" on him. He continues to dress like Mobius and, indeed, mimic some of his mannerisms such as placing his hands on his hips. Without clothing meant to push people away, Loki opens up, has more fun, and makes friends.
Tumblr media
Loki's choice of attire as he assumes the mantle of God of Stories (and time) is fascinating. Setting aside the clear design inspiration from the comics, Loki's silhouette is soft, remarkably so. His colors are earthy hues of green, and the only bit of flare are the light gold trimming and crown. The look brings to mind the garb of sages and wise wizards rather than royalty or warriors. He's powerful yet approachable because there is humility in his bearing. And that humility springs from a well of healthy self-worth, self-love, and a deep love for others.
The shoes are not meant to be attractive. They are meant to help him ascend the throne, nothing more.
7K notes · View notes
sixosix · 5 months
Text
wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“What? Giving up already?”
“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”
Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”
“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.
“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”
Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.
You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.
Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”
“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.
“Not more than I do,” he says.
“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.
“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.
Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”
“Are you serious?”
“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”
You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.
“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”
It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.
Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.
“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.
“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.
He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.
“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”
“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”
He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.
Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.
“Well?”
You eye him warily. “What do you want?”
“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.
Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.
You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
sweet-as-an-angel · 6 months
Text
Zombie! MW2 w/ a Human Sex Slave
Warnings: 18+, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Initial Dubious Consent, Stomach Swelling, Cum Inflation, Unprotected Sex, Brief Worry of Infection, Rough MW2, Gentle MW2, Zombie! MW2, Human! Reader, Sex Slave! Reader, Captive/Captor Relationship, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Descriptions of Smut, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.
Tumblr media
Zombie! MW2 who found you scavenging alone one day out in the wasteland, entirely unaware of their presence.
Zombie! MW2 who capture you soon after, not ones to waste time.
You were the first lone human they’d seen in months, and they’d be damned if they were going to let you slip through their fingers.
Zombie! MW2 whose intentions with you are unclear. Until you notice the bulge in their trousers and the purr in their groans as they watch you writhe against the restraints, watch you helplessly struggle against a fate they’ve already decided for you.
Ghost, König and Soap are the roughest with you, often the ones to just tear a your pants off when they’re desperate, filling you not long after.
They’re rarely gentle, instead opting to take you raw and use you for their own ends, slamming their hips into yours until you hear them release a guttural roar, emptying days’ worth of semen inside you.
Your first time with Ghost almost left you feeling like you were about to burst with how backed-up he was, his balls almost bursting and slapping the skin of your backside red and raw with each thrust.
He’d made sure to leave his mark on you, the prominent bulge in your stomach slowly deflating as his semen leaked out of you.
And while Soap and Ghost’s loads are somewhat palatable given how frequently they use you, König almost always leaves you feeling like you’re about to burst.
Given his height, he’s the biggest of all your captors. Not only that, but his cock is thick enough to leave you feeling like you have rocks in your stomach whenever he forces himself into you, his strokes long and pounding, making sure you feel every inch of him.
Price, Gaz and Alejandro are a lot more gentle, understanding that, while you’re human, you’re still fragile.
They’re soft and slow with their thrusts, giving you time to adjust to their size before continuing.
While they can’t talk, they do try to comfort to as best they can.
They’ll stroke your head, press their forehead to your shoulder (only to feel you tense beneath them, anticipating a bite) — anything to try and make you feel less like you’re a sex slave and more like a friend with benefits.
Of course, you worried the first few times they had their way with you that their pumping you full of their seed would infect you, turn you into one of them.
However, after weeks went by, you were still you. No rotting skin, no cannibalistic thoughts, no loss of autonomy.
But, much to your horror, you felt as if they’d infected you with an idea, a feeling.
That being that you enjoyed what they were doing to you, ravaging you, pumping you full of their load until they were satisfied and your stomach was swelling.
And while your sanity tried to reason your way through your acceptance — that you were being held prisoner by literal parasite-infested corpses — your mind, for better or worse, didn’t care.
Not when they were providing for you, bringing you food, clothes, blankets — things you were certain would be nigh impossible to obtain were you roughing it alone in the wastes.
Or, perhaps you were rationalising your willingness to stay here with them, to live as their human sperm bank, reduced to an existence of bending to the will of militant captors whose semen dripped down your thighs, whose hands forced your face into pillows or made you bounce on their cocks while looking at them, giving you a glimpse into their eyes, the people they once perhaps were: whose surprising stamina and strength left you whining, crying and almost begging for more whenever they finished, more often than not forcing orgasms out of you, too, making you push back into them, body willing to take every ounce of their cum and inch of their cocks.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad
7K notes · View notes
wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months
Note
could you do finnick odair giving you head? i loved your last fanfic!
of course! thank you so much <3
forbidden fruit | f. odair
Tumblr media
masterlist
summary: finnick was your mentor; intimacy was strictly prohibited. but he just couldn’t help but succumb to your sweet taste. in the training centre, no less.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, orgasm, finnick is a swallower!!!, swearing, kinda exhibitionism
notes: i just know finnick would be like a god at giving head. sorry it was a bit short; i had another wip going on as well. definitely enjoyed writing this though ;)
word count: 1.3k
This was wrong. So very wrong. Finnick was supposed to be your mentor. You were supposed to be doing one-on-one training. But, God, if you said having his tongue lapping between your thighs felt anything but perfection, you would be lying to yourself.
“Oh,” you breathed out. “Fuck, Finnick.”
His muscular arm had swung your leg over his shoulder, allowing him even deeper access to devour you against the wall of the empty Training Centre gymnasium. The lower half of your body had been stripped bare; your clothes discarded to the floor by the man kneeling beneath you.
He traced tight circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue, only stopping to suction his mouth around it and suck. A cacophony of shocked cries and desperate moans left your mouth. You should have known he would be able to make you feel this good. He had a wicked smile and a wicked mouth that could do filthy things.
Teeth nipped gently at your clit, causing your hips to jerk forward with a startled gasp. “Oh my God.”
Finnick removed his head from between your thighs, peering up at your expression with sinful sea-green eyes. Your mouth was slightly agape, brows were drawn together, and cheeks were flushed with a warm pink. His chin and lips were drenched with your juices. He really was devouring you whole.
“Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the tender flesh of your inner thigh. “I know it feels good but…” His lips trailed up your thigh, getting closer to the place you needed him most. “…we wouldn’t want anyone to find you like this, would we?”
Oh, you knew what would happen if they did. However dangerous the consequences might have been, the idea of someone walking in on Finnick with his face buried in your pussy was exhilarating. Downright arousing.
You weren’t even sure how you ended up in this situation. One minute, you two were practicing hand-to-hand combat and the next, his tongue was exploring your body as you cried out his name in pleasure.
“I’ll be quiet. I—” Suddenly, his tongue was dragging from your soaking hole to the peak of your clit. “Promise.”
Your hand flew to your mouth, dampening the pleasured noises that threatened to escape. Another hand dropped into his hair, fingers interweaving with the messy bronze strands as you tugged him closer. He groaned into your pussy, sending a wave of euphoric vibrations through your body, stimulating the muscles in your stomach that pleaded for a release.
“Sweet girl. Taste so good,” his voice muffled into your skin.
Your heart fluttered at his praise.
And then, before you could even think, Finnick had pulled your other leg over his shoulder, holding you against the wall with pure muscle. He immediately continued his movements, leaving you only seconds to be baffled by his strength.
He flicked his tongue back and forth over your clit, his tongue rough in pressure and wild with speed. Tears were forming in your eyes, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving you. Your stomach was tensing and caving uncontrollably; chest rising and falling with fast, uneven breaths.
Even Finnick seemed to be gaining gratification from getting you to your high, obvious in the frenzied enthusiasm and moans that vibrated against you.
Somehow, he had managed to shift your weight onto one shoulder and dropped a hand to your core. His finger teased at your entrance as he continued working your swollen sensitivity with his tongue. He sunk his long finger into your pussy, instantly curling upwards into that deep, heavenly spot that had you biting your palm and your eyes squeezing shut.
“Fuck!” you cried into your hand.
Multitasking wasn’t a problem for him. He sucked, lapped, and tongued, all while curling and pumping his finger in and out of your hole, knuckles probing at your inner walls as he did. Then he added another finger, and you could feel its effects deep within your stomach.
Clit being assaulted and dripping-wet hole stuffed, your orgasm came creeping into the light. It was building slowly. First to be affected was your mind—your thoughts were utterly immoral. You were light-headed and blood buzzed in your ears.
Next was your lower half. Your thighs clenched around Finnick’s head, hips grinding against his tongue which only encouraged him further on. Then your breaths became shallow, a whine or whimper occasionally escaping with each exhale.
His mouth left your heat, fingers still pumping. “Are you close, sweetheart?” he asked in that carefully crafted seductive voice of his. You nodded frantically, pushing his dishevelled hair from his forehead as he gazed up at you. “Let me hear.”
Your hand fell from your lips. “But you said—”
“Forget what I said.” He leaned into your heat, his words fanning warmth against your pussy. “I want to hear my name coming from that pretty mouth of yours as you come.” An unhindered broken moan echoed around the room as he forcefully plunged his fingers into that spot deep inside you. “That’s it, sweetheart.”
The sound of your pleasure filled the gymnasium. You couldn’t even think about the possibility of someone walking in. Not when a white-hot heat was consuming your entire being.
He returned to your throbbing clit, hungrily sucking it in his mouth as if he were tasting a foreign delicacy. The pressure of his suctioned mouth had the heat feverishly spreading around your body, filling you up before it had the chance to explode. And with another pump of his fingers, a blaze erupted in your stomach.
“Finnick!”
Your moans rose an octave, head falling back against the wall as you repeated his name and strings of curses over and over. Sparks trickled down your legs and to your toes. Immense pleasure crested over every inch of your pulsing body, rendering you immobile in Finnick’s arms. Still, he didn’t stop.
Unbeknownst to you, just the sound of you reaching your climax had him coming undone as well, groaning into your gushing slick as his cock twitched and spurted white ropes in his pants.
He licked a long stripe up your slit, collecting your juices with his tongue. Fuck, he had never tasted anything sweeter. Anything more delicious.
As the wave of bliss began to pass, your tensed body began to relax. Finnick noticed, slipping his fingers from your hole and removing his mouth from your overstimulated clit. He watched as your fatigued body started to crumple in on itself, thankfully having the right idea to help you off his shoulders.
He settled you onto his kneeling lap, creating a wet patch on his pants. Not that he cared—it kind of turned him on again.
You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. How were you supposed to face him after… that? Much to your discomfort, Finnick turned your head to face his with a finger. The dry one, of course. His eyes searched yours with a look you couldn’t quite describe. Worry? Anxiety?
“You regret it?” he asked.
It took you a moment to decide; ultimately, you shook your head. That was the most exhilarating thing you had ever experienced in your life. Saying anything else would be a lie.
He smiled.
“But we shouldn’t do it again,” you said softly.
“No…” he sighed, the smile dropping from his face. “But we will.”
And there it was again—that devilish smirk. You couldn’t resist returning it with a sheepish smile because you knew he was right. You would do it again.
4K notes · View notes
jeongin-lvr · 4 months
Text
ᵎ 🍶 ⊹ clueless, y. jeongin
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇!𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾,𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋,𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾,𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖫𝖬𝖥𝖠𝖮𝖮,𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌,𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 & 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅,𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾,𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀,edited.
[ 𝟤.𝟫𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ⭑ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ⭑ [ 𝗆.𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]
Tumblr media
YOUR boyfriend was so clueless in all aspects of women. Sometimes it was funny and other times it was genuinely shocking how little he knew; Jeongin was always nose down in books, easily flustered, yet incredibly attractive. Like borderline insane how attractive he was. Which made it even more of a mystery as to how he has never had a girlfriend, let alone been with a woman.
You often poked fun at him for him, though it was all innocent. At least for the first few months of the relationship.
"Innie, you are such a pretty boy," You would tease whilst leaning against his arm, cheek pressed to his shoulder so absentmindedly, though you knew how easily flustered he could get. Jeongin would gush at your compliments with fire in his cute cheeks, squishing to you closer to bury his head into your heavenly hair. Then you'd continue, chuckling as you patted his shoulder and held him, "Bet you have a pretty cock too..." you'd whisper into his ear, leaving him shocked and clueless.
"What—" And them you'd be on about something else, pretending nothing was ever said. As if your words didn't leave his (in fact, very pretty) cock half-hard and beginning to sting with sin, a small stain of wetness from the tip tattooing his sweat pants a darker shade.
But now it was getting a lot less harder to ignore your sinful words. At first he could excuse himself, fix his problem and go back to you (admittedly, a little more flustered). Now, this would happen often the more comfortable the two of you got with each other. From teasing comments to full blown make out sessions— nearly ending with you on his lap riding him. But he always backed out, not because of fear but because he's never done it before (okay, maybe a little fear).
He was inexperienced and he didn't want to blow a load too early; he also didn't want to disappoint you with how little he knew.
And, of course, you'd always smile and give him a gentle kiss when things got too heated. Telling him it's fine and you'll wait for him as long as he needs, settling back into the sofa cushions with a content sigh as you watched the movie you'd put on an hour before, now already at the end.
However, Jeongin was ready. He knew it, he could feel it inside of him. Each time he'd have you underneath him, or you on top of him with a flirty giggle, he knew he wanted to take off your clothes and please you. Jeongin knew with every ounce of his being, every atom longed for you.
So he was determined now. 6 months into the relationship and he was ready to take charge... the only problem was, how?
"Innie, baby, hey," You called, obviously confused as to why he wasn't answering you mid-conversation. Your head whipped around to him away from the screen, catching his eyes staring at you already, though not into your eyes. His gaze was set on your pudgy thighs that lay so barren due to your shorts (or maybe lack of). Adding to the fire was the fact that you wore his big hoodie that he always wore, so it's as if the smell was imbedded into it, pristine and constantly fresh. And that barely covered your thighs, dangling over your body like a shadow of fabric.
Jeongin opened his mouth, dry and a bit flustered, "Sorry, what??" His eyes met yours, cute voice slurred with obvious embarrassment. His pink lips were chapped but you thought that was nothing a little kiss couldn't fix.
"What're you staring at, handsome?" You teased him, poking his cheek with a neatly manicured finger, giggling as you scooted over to him. Jeongin huffed with a pout, tugging his hoodie down to cover the (hopefully not so) obvious bulge beginning to grow in his jeans. But, obviously, you caught it.
"Don't call me that, baby," Jeongin knew that you knew what effect that nickname had on him. It was so cute and innocent yet when they came out of your lips they had a sinful twinge. Like it was drenched in the sex that was beginning to ruminate in the thick, tensed air, "Such a meanie..."
You chuckled darkly, draping one leg over his and sitting so that his cute thigh lay between yours, parting your legs so nicely.
"Why? Does it make you nervous, hm?"
Jeongin looked you dead in the eye, breath stuttering and teeth parted to showcase that cute tongue; the tongue you just wanted to have in your mouth.
"Love, you know why," Your boyfriend droned with a familiar pout. Poor boy stopped for a minute, hesitating to rest his hands on your hips but mustering up the courage with a red face. You tilted your head, a bit confused as his eyes grew a tone more serious, chocolate irises now the hue of dusk, "Uhm... hey, baby... I wanna ask you something."
"Shoot," You looped your arms around his neck, connecting in the back of his hair whilst skillfully playing with the ends of his deep black strands.
Jeongin ignored how his cock ached suddenly at the feeling of your hands in his hair. How it felt when you pulled at the strands just gently but enough for him to shiver. Jeongin silently wondered if he was really gonna do this or if he'd end up in the bathroom again, cock in hand, wondering why he was such a loser.
"Okay, so, um, you know how I-I always say that I want to wait? To, y'know—"
You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, a dust of cherries underneath your skin, "Yes, I know."
"Okay, well—" Jeongin hesitated, his eyes dead set on yours, unknowingly squeezing your hips as he tried to compose himself, "I think I'm ready."
Your eyes widened, meeting his with a soft coo as you ran a gentle hand through his soft locks. Jeongin hissed softly, still insistent in keeping your eyes locked but slowly losing his composure the more you stared.
"You're ready?" You asked, already pooling in your underwear.
Jeongin nodded, kissing your wrist that laid beside his cheek, as if to confirm to you through the silence, "I've been ready— I just want— I want to do this."
You cracked a smile, "Do this? Or do me?"
"Stopp," He whined, trailing a trembling hand up your waist then to your cheek, resting softly on your warm flesh now. His thumb gently rubbing, to his pleasure he felt your skin burning, seeing them red with love, "I'm serious, pretty." His voice was low now, if anyone else was in the room, no one else but you would hear. It was just for you. Like a gift.
"I know, Innie," You whispered back, suddenly you were the nervous one, hands dropping down to his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it increased like the sound of a bass drum, "I'm serious too. If y-you're ready, so am I. Promise."
Jeongin felt somehow relieved yet at the same time more nervous. He could feel every ounce of sincerity within your words, your tone too. He already felt so intimate and nothing had even begun.
"Love you, pretty boy," You whispered again, leaning forward to meet his lips, melting into them, "Love you s'much," You muttered against his lips as they immediately meshed with yours, the intensity of every kiss growing. At this point, Jeongin's cock was throbbing just from hearing you say all of that. His hands were gently, timidly prying at your clothes, wanting them off but not sure how to say it without you teasing him.
Jeongin caught your bottom lip, pulling away with a shiver creeping down his spine, "B-Baby, m' so in love with you. Swear to god, you're perfect." His eyes were already dazed as they looked you up and down, admiring your delicious figure, "I wanna make you feel good— show me."
You almost moaned at the sound of it. Watching Jeongin slowly lose it, shirt now tugged up enough to see the true volume of his erection. You could tell he was big, and how he had kept this from you was a mystery. You adjusted on his lap, openly sitting on his bulge as if to let him know— tell him without the burden of words that you're his.
"Show you?" You asked against his lips, grazing them softly.
Your boyfriend nodded, your hands reaching under his hoodie to feel the heat of his skin. Your nails lightly scraped over his tense tummy, breath stuttering each time your fingertips swirled over his skin. He groaned at the feeling of your hips upon his cock, feeling as though he'd bust right then.
"Show me how to make you feel good," Jeongin said it so confidently you almost forgot it was your boy. You liked how eager he was to please yet somehow kept that little bit of composure, "That's all I wanna do for you, pretty."
You almost short circuited, retracing your thoughts and trying to figure out what to do or say first, "O-Oh... well, give me your hand first."
Jeongin obeyed, taking his hand and placing it in yours, eyes wide and staring into yours as he awaited further instruction.
"Now—" You took his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, almost letting out a whimper as he ran a finger up your heat. Jeongin nearly gasped as he felt the heat, the stain of wetness from your arousal, he was perplexed yet utterly amazed, "Yes— like that." You grasped his hand tighter, placing it where your clit was, aching and an angry shade of red, "This feels good... rub— rub it, in circles."
"You're so wet— fuck, I can feel it through your shorts," Jeongin did as you told him. Rubbing gently in what he hoped was a good pace. From the look of your dusty eyes he could safely say it was. Your lips parted with soft whines leaving them, thighs trembling on either side of his legs. It was a sight he could get used to, "Does that feel g-good?"
"Mhm— wan' take off my shorts," So you did, stepping off his lap and leaving his hands empty and unoccupied, which he never knew he could miss. You laid at his side now, head upon a pillow, looking ever so angelic as you spread your legs, as if to invite him. Jeongin ogled for a moment, forgetting he was human as his eyes lingered up and down your voluminous curves, landing lastly on your barren cunt, observing with curiosity.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," Jeongin crept forward, connecting your lips with his in a heated, dramatic kiss, "Thank you, thank you—" He didn't know what he was thanking you for; being you? Letting him do this? Giving yourself to him with such need? Jeongin wasn't gonna dwell on it any longer, instead, he let your hand take his and guide him back to your core.
"M-more," You whimpered. From all the teasing you've done to him for the past few months, it was a bit shocking to see you so pliant. Jeongin nodded against your lips, the kiss becoming a mess as you two persisted, "Like this, okay?"
You led Jeongin's hand to your clit, rubbing gently. Then moaned loudly, as if it was the best thing. Jeongin felt his mind being blown at the noises you made, it was so precious to him. He wondered why he'd never done this sooner; now he wasn't sure he could go without them anymore.
"N-now, like this—" You dropped Jeongin’s hand to your throbbing hole, dripping in sheer globs of desire onto the cushion beneath your ass, glistening in lust, "Two fingers... ah—" You showed Jeongin, letting his two gorgeous fingers breach your hole, slowly inching in. Jeongin choked at how you sucked him in, and at the way your head tilted back, those addicting moans you let out too.
Jeongin was on the verge of cumming in his own pants; shamefully yet he wasn't sure he could even stop if he did.
"Yes... ah, you're hands a-are so pretty—" You were a bit of a mess now, you showed him how to pump them into you and then he was off on his own, watching as you fell apart around him and your moans slipped out dangerously loud, "So— good!"
Jeongin couldn't fathom how beautiful you looked. Hair in the shape of a halo around your flushed face. Eyelashes fluttering and lips parted as a spot of drool came dribbling down; without a bit of hesitation, he came forward and kissed it away, dragging his tongue along the trail as well.
You moaned out at the warm feeling of his tongue, barely able to make out his dazed, enamored expression through the thickness of your lashes.
"Wan' taste you, baby, can I?" Jeongin suddenly asked, scissoring into your cunt as his palm slapped against your core. You truly wondered if he was lying about the whole virgin thing— with the way he was using his fingers it was like they were made for this shit.
You nodded at his words, "Please!"
Jeongin didn't need anymore confirmation to bend forward, hips rutting into the pillow below, his own moans vibrating against your clit. His lips wrapped around them, eyes fluttering shut as he made out with your pretty sex.
"G'na— ah, cum!" You shouted as his tongue flicked along your clit, making you see stars as his fingers carried out your orgasm. Hitting your gummy spot with little caution, lips around your cunt. You creamed around his fingers, yet Jeongin didn't stop filling you with his knobby digits.
You pried them away, lost beneath your lashes as you tried to breathe, searching for his gaze.
Jeongin looked at you expectantly like a puppy waiting for praise, lips curled into an almost prideful smile as you whispered into nothing.
"Fuck, Innie, felt s-so good," You brought his face up to yours, post-sex haze making you needy and soft, "Thank you, baby."
Jeongin groaned as your thigh rubbed against his cock, the pain suddenly reminding him he was left unattended. Your eyes fell to the prominent outline, the stain of precum on the fabric, making you suddenly want more.
"Jeongin, baby, put it in," You pleaded, grasping his biceps in your suddenly small hands, shaking figure as you begged, "Please. Wan' make you feel good, too."
Jeongin lost it, nodded through the dizziness at your words, "You're unreal— fuck, baby, gonna put it in, tell me if it hurts—"
You watched him mess with the button of his pants, a little confused as to why it would hurt. Then you met eyes with his cock, throbbing and red, dripping. But most importantly, massive. You audibly gasped with bewildered eyes. It had to be more than ten inches, and it looked painful to hold, hard with intricately drawn veins. You locked eyes with your boyfriend, shock evident on your gorgeous face.
"You're fucking huge, Innie," You almost moaned as the poor boy grew shy, opening your legs and aligning the tip with your ready hole, "M' gonna split in half."
Jeongin would've laughed but he was too immersed in the pleasure, sinking into your dripping cunt inch by inch until there was nowhere left to go. Despite having an inch or two still not submerged, he let his head fall back and moaned, loudly and super cutely.
"Don't say that— m-might cum already," Jeongin propped his arms beside your head, finding your lips and messily making out with you as he tried to not move. It was hard with you clenching and sucking him in. Your hands looping around his neck again, lips wet as saliva pooled down your chins in a puddle.
"S'full," You mumbled, losing track of how his lips collided with yours in needy sweeps. Jeongin moaned at your words, "Holy shit, baby, I gotta move. M' moving, pretty!"
Jeongin was apologetic but his hips moved, skin slapping on skin as his pace stayed relentless and quick, shallow yet letting you feel as much of his cock as you could. Every vein, every cursive line within his pretty fucking cock.
Jeongin bit your bottom lip, hands clenching into the couch material as he fucked into your harder. The lewd noises of your cunt swallowing his length was pornographic and beautiful to him; like music to his ears, a sound he never knew he needed.
"Ohh, Innie, fuck, it's s'big!"
Jeongin dropped his head into your shoulder, your hands going to his back to claw at the porcelain skin. Jeongin choked out a moan, biting your neck as he mumbled out a barely coherent, "M' gonna cum— can I? Inside? P-please?"
You were too overstimulated to say no, you moaned yes and with that Jeongin released into you, suddenly the feeling of being full making you overwhelmed. It felt like you were sinking into the couch, clawing to Jeongin to stay steady as his cum pooled inside of you.
"Shit, shit, m' sorry, pretty," Jeongin spoke after coming down from his high, pulling out and hissing at the feeling, "Are you okay?"
You opened your eyes with a dazed flutter, meeting his worried bronze ones as they scanned your messy red face, "I can't believe you had a dick that good and you've been keeping it from me!"
Jeongin blushed, dropping his head to your shoulder again with a nervous whimper, "You're something else..."
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
nariism · 7 months
Text
you're mad at him.
you're mad at him and he knows it. you've been giving wriothesley the silent treatment ever since you arrived at the fortress of meropide, bandages in hand and a flurry of curses erupting nonstop from your mouth.
not a single word has been uttered between you since you sat him down in his office. despite refusing to speak to him, much less look him in the eye, you're dutifully bandaging up his raw knuckles like you remember sigewinne showing you back when she decided to go on vacation.
"it's very easy," her voice rings in your ears. you bite your tongue to prevent yourself from snarking back at her imaginary presence.
you only hoped she was enjoying herself up on the surface, accompanying neuvillette for the first time in ages. while she absolutely did deserve a vacation, you wished that she had given wriothesley a stern set of instructions to take care of himself in her absence.
if she did, maybe you wouldn't have had to come all the way down here just to witness him in such a state. your poor heart can't take this kind of worry.
the warden has come out the pankration the most unscathed, only sporting a split lip and bloody nose. his knuckles are red and cut, but it's nothing in comparison to the two inmates who had decided it was a good idea to incite a riot in what should be a controlled environment of the prison.
physically, he's fine. emotionally, he's having a complete meltdown.
he can't take this silence anymore; can't bear having you be upset with him, knowing that he should have been more careful about rushing in to stop the riot himself. the prison is crawling with guards for a reason, yet in his haste he decided it would be faster to intervene alone.
"hey," wriothesley calls out softly, timid despite his looming presence over you. "i didn't mean to worry you or–"
"why can't you be more careful?" you suddenly interrupt, voice cracking weakly. you gaze up from where you're kneeling on the floor, bandages halting in the air while you challenge him with your eyes. "don't you know how stupid and reckless that was?"
he holds your stare for a few moments, stunned by your sudden rebuttal. and then you tear your eyes away from his again, focusing back on tenderly wrapping up his hand.
"you always make me so worried staying down here day and night," you continue, voice so quiet he can barely make out your words.
"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly.
"i know you're strong. i know it. but you're not invincible. would it kill you to cherish your life a little more?"
"i'm sorry," he says again.
you falter, a sigh escaping you as you peer up at him again. there's something softer in the way you look at him now, with all your frustration melting away into concern. you rummage through your bag for a wet wipe before standing to cradle his face.
wriothesley can't breathe when you're being so gentle with him. his hands find your waist and squeeze it to draw you even closer, until he can almost rest his head against your stomach.
"i love you," you finally tell him, and he feels the relief wash over him. "i can't stand seeing you hurt, so please be more careful."
you swipe the cloth under his nose a few times, gently dabbing at the skin and cleaning up the blood that has dried there. his steely eyes drift shut under your warm touch, allowing you to clean his face. when he only nods in response, your hand stops.
"promise me."
he looks at you again, a brow raised at your stern tone. but he would always relent to you, no matter what it is you wanted.
"i promise."
you blink down at him for a second, taking in how beautiful he is underneath his bloody nose. finally, you lean down to kiss the top of his head— a gesture of forgiveness and love that he's grown so accustomed to.
there's sunshine in your smile when you pull away from him to discard the used wipe, all previous signs of anguish gone from your expression.
his heart nearly stops at the sight.
you were right. he should cherish himself more. he can't stand seeing you fret over him even if it is a little endearing.
for now, he'll just enjoy having you take care of him. it's been so long since he returned to the surface, all he wants to do right now is bask in the light you bring down here with you.
"oh nurse," he teases, giving your hips another squeeze. "my lip got busted, too. got a remedy?"
you roll your eyes but press a kiss to his lips anyways.
Tumblr media
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
4K notes · View notes
corollaservant · 29 days
Text
Tumblr media
jjk men react to you giving them hickeys
suggestive / quick drabble (bc my ex hated that shit)
Gojo: He doesn’t notice when you start sucking a specific spot on his long neck until he feels a sharp pain. Your plump lips turn him on and he doesn’t really give a fuck about the mark, which he knows will be more than visible especially since he’s so pale and his shirts always show collarbones. He’s too into it to tell you anything though as he grabs your hips and moves them on his clothed bulge.
Geto: He’s reserved and levelheaded. Plus he’s also a grown man so he groans when you start biting and sucking on his neck. He feels turned on but urges you to slow down, ‘’sweetheart..stop’’ he’ll tell you but will eventually let you do your thing, he knows how stubborn you get. He also needs a reason to punish you later on by thrusting harshly in you for being a disobedient girl. 
Nanami: He is not a fan of hickeys as he thinks it’s not very professional to sport love bites to corporate the next day but he is also the type to give ones himself so when he hears your complaints ‘’but..baby.. you do this all the timee’’ as you slowly kiss and bite his neck, he just goes along with it, his cock twitching when you divert your attention to his earlobe and suck on it too. 
Toji: Absolutely not a fan. He thinks this is behavior of silly little insolent brats. Each time you’ll try to continuously suck on one spot, he’ll slap your ass with vice, he wants you to behave and do your usual business with him. One thing he never admits though is how fucking good your soft tongue feels on his neck, it gives him chills sometimes- but you never notice so he doesn’t ever tell you.
Sukuna: He wouldn’t mind if it didn’t drag on for toooo long, he needs more action and less teasing so he doesn’t prefer it, but it’s never an issue of appearance with him. ‘’You’re being slow’’ he’ll say as you tease the crook of his neck, ‘’move on’’. 
Higuruma: He would never allow it in any previous relationships he had. He has a name to maintain and is not fond of territorial marking and all that ‘’teenager stuff’’. You’d be the one to change his mind, whispering seductively in his ear ‘’please Hiromi, let me kiss you’’ wiggling your hips as he’d slowly groan and comply. ‘’I’ll ride your face, if you let me’’ you promise him and he- well..he will just let you.
2K notes · View notes
sillylittlefreakgirl · 9 months
Text
The trick about devils is that the high-ranking ones are often less concerned with inspiring sin and perversion within mortals as they are satisfying their own. You believed that by identifying the right patron and giving them what they want, you could make a deal with no clever loophole or catch. Make an offer, follow through, and come back unchanged and unharmed. Easy. And you knew just the devil to chose: a Devil Lord of Lust, one of the most self-serving of sins. Pride is too unstable, sloth might never hold up their end, gluttony is insatiable, but a Devil Lord of Lust? That you could handle.
You summoned them one evening to your apartment, offering your demands with clarity. "Beauty and power," was all you asked for. "In return, I offer to enter your service for six months." He chuckled lightly, eyeing you up and down. "One year," he countered. "And I promise you'll not be hurt. Not in a way you don't enjoy, at least." You shook hands, and the deal was struck. You were given a day to get everything in order, pay any outstanding bills, notify your family that you'd be away, and went to sleep. The next time you awoke, it was in a cage.
You noticed right away that your clothes were gone. Every so often a demon would pass by, leering at you through the bars. You also noticed that your were very, very, very horny. At first, you tried to cover yourself up, hide from the observing demons. But a heat began to build in your chest. You ached to touch yourself, to cum. You tried to resist. "Not in while they watch," you tried to think, but it was fuzzy. Strained. You noticed that the demons were naked too. Were they always naked? Looking them only made you hornier, so you tried to look away, but the image of their cocks was buried in your mind. Without thinking, you began to touch yourself, and by the time you noticed, it felt so good that you didn't care.
Against your will, small whimpers escaped your mouth. It felt so fucking good. The noises you made riled up the demons, spurring them to get off too. Cum shot through your bars, covering you, making you feel so warm. Why couldn't you cum? You were so close, so fucking close, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get over the edge. You began to beg. "Please," you whined. "Please let me cum."
Eventually, your hands became too tired to continue and fell to your sides. You lay at the floor of your cage, covered in the cum of a dozen demons, unable to orgasm but so desperate. You didn't care anymore. You needed it. So you pushed yourself against the bars and let them fuck you, their cocks taking turns inside you, filling you with more and more cum. Cocks appeared in front of you too, right before your face, and, without thinking, you began to suck them. God, it was so hard to think with their cocks so deep inside you. But you still couldn't cum.
Eventually, they all had their fill and left you, broken and desperate and unsatisfied, squirming on the floor of your cage in a pool of cum, which you brainlessly began to lap up. Soon enough, a familiar form appeared and opened your cage. You crawled out and immediately offered your throat to the Devil Lord, too dazed to even beg. "My sweet pet," he purred, grabbing your horns. Did you always have horns? "You've been so good. I believe you deserve to cum now." You whimpered in excitement, you tail (tail?) flicking behind you. He led you to a throne where he sat down, stroking his cock. "Have a seat," he said. So you rode him, pushing his cock as deep into you as it would go, screaming as you came again and again, unable to stop bouncing. Your back arched and your wings flared as wave after wave of euphoria ran through you, the sweet release you'd been desperate for for so long.
One year would not be enough. Not nearly.
3K notes · View notes
bet-on-me-13 · 9 months
Text
Desperate Villain Danny AU
(this is a 17 yr old danny)
It started out slowly.
First, a few of Danny's less active Rouges stopped showing up at all. He didn't really notice, and just assumed that they had finally had their Fill of their Obsession for a while and would simmer down for a bit.
Then, some more of his Rouges stopped showing up. No big deal, but he is getting a little concerned for them. They had definitely not had their fill of their Obsessions yet, why did they stop?
Then, the worst started happen. All of his actual Ghost Friends start to disappear. Ember, Kitty, Johnny, even Amorpho, they all start to not show up at all in the Living World.
He goes looking for them in Realms, but he can't find any of them whatsoever. He tries asking around, but everybody else noticed the disappearances much earlier than him and began to hide away from whatever was taking all of the strong Ghosts. He can't find anybody, and the ones he does find won't tell him anything (or don't know themselves)
It takes weeks of searching, but eventually he gets his answer.
The GIW show up in Amity again after a period of absolutely no activity. They have stepped up their operations HARD. Advanced Ghost Hunting Equipment, Much more Competent Agents, and most worrying of all, they seem to know that Phantom is friends with Sam, Tucker, and Danny Fenton.
The GIW comes to his house for a Meeting with his parents, where he overhears them offering his parents a position in their Organization as Head Scientists. While there they also manage to plant Bugs in Danny's room somehow. Although he finds them quickly enough and destroys them.
And then, one night during dinner while his parents are ranting about the GIWs Labs, they mention something that cinches it for Danny.
"And today we even got to Dissect one of the Spooks! It was that Mind Controlly one, you know the one with the blue firey hair stuff that sang a bunch! We're going back tomorrow to continue our Study, this time we'll see how long it'll pretend to experience pain before it decides to give up on tricking us!"
That night, Danny packed up all his things, destroyed the Ghost Portal alongside everything else in his parents Lab, and left his house.
He tracked down the GIW Base, saved Ember from her Cell, and decimated the surrounding Area. No survivors, none of the research is preserved, and he left the Site Director alive to question him.
Turns out, the GIW had managed to Reverse Engineer the Ghost Portal from that brief period of time where they had taken control of Fenton Works. They had been using their own Portal to kidnap any Ghost they could get their hands on. Using the research from those subjects, they perfected their Ghost Hunting Tech and started going after the bigger fish.
"But good luck finding it, Ecto Scum! The Portals location was hidden to everybody, even me!" He said.
"Where are the others!" Danny cried. He was losing control of his appearance by this point. After seeing what they had done to Ember, he was too angry to maintain his Humanoid Form successfully. Even now, with most of his control, he could hear the Static in the air around him, and see the Glitching of his hands as they clenched this Monsters clothes.
"Scattered!" He said with a crazed laugh, "We knew we couldn't contain all of them, so we send them to all of our sites across the Country! You'll never find them!"
Without another word, Danny plowed his arm through the man's chest.
He turned around, picking up Embers weakened Body, before beginning his long flight to Wisconsin. Vlad still owed him a few Favors after all, and honestly his mentorship offers seemed VERY Tempting right now.
(Why reject him if you don't care about keeping your dad alive anymore?)
...
The JLA had recently received a distress signal from somewhere in the middle of some random Forest in Illinois, but when they got to the location, all they found was a crater filled with the ruins of some kind of Military Base, and so so many Bodies.
They had managed to figure out that this was a Government Site owned by an organization called the GIW. A Paranormal Investigation Wing of the Government focused on the study and capture of Supernatural Beings called Ecto-Entities, otherwise referred to as Ghosts.
As it turns out, an Ecto-Entity that had been terrorizing the local town for a few years now had made a drastic change in normal behavior and had attacked the GIW Base that had been posted there.
They would have destroyed it years ago, but this one was unnaturally powerful. It had eluded their capture and terrorized the Town for years, but they had too much pride to contact the JLA and admit that they needed help. And honestly until now, they didn't really need it. The Entity had been entirely confined to the singular town, and had not strayed from that behavioral Pattern in the 3 years since it's inital sighting. They had made the difficult choice to leave it there, sacrificing one town in exchange for the rest of the country.
But now they did need their help. This Entity, this Phantom, was one of the most powerful beings that had ever recorded, maybe even The Most Powerful. The fact that it had left the Secluded town it usually frequented meant that it was loose to wreak havoc across the rest of the world.
The JLA Needed to Find this thing, and Fast.
3K notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Give It To Me .
Dark! Luke Castellan x nymph! Reader
Content warning . Non-con, minor predator/prey themes, squirting
Tumblr media
You sigh as your toes are enveloped in cold, crystal clear water. Making your way into the pond, you’re thankful none of the other nymphs had followed you here.
Sure, it’s fun to swim with the others. At camp Half Blood, you’ve made a lot of new friends that are just as appreciative of the earth as you. But sometimes you need a moment to yourself— a moment with nature and its elements.
Your clothes are discarded— this is your hiding spot deep in the forest, after all. It’d be a wonder if someone found it. It’s as if it was made just for you.
You spend a great deal of time in the waves, resting against a giant boulder peeking out of the water, relishing in the cool breeze moving through. You giggle at the fish tickling your ankles because they’re always quite fond of you.
You enjoy your swim so much that for a second you don’t hear the sound of another.
It’s the noise of a belt buckle clinking that makes you turn your head towards the shore. You peek out over the surface of the water, and on the shore you see the figure of a tall male.
He seems to be going for a swim. He peels his shirt off, then slips his jeans down to his ankles and throws them on the ground somewhere behind him. He steps into the water, slow, emitting a small sigh as it envelopes him. He wades forward and then relaxes against the waves.
Your eyes glaze over.
You want to move. Your body stays behind the rock , however, to admire him for a moment more.
He’s an interesting half blood. Not like the others— older, with dark, raven like hair, pretty doe eyes, and a very fit body. He’s incredibly handsome, and something tugs in your chest.
You move by instinct, and it makes a splash. Your body freezes up in fear. The boy whirls around, surprised by the sound of another ounce of life in the empty pond. You peek over, praying he doesn’t see you as he makes his way towards the rock.
But to no avail. His eyes catch yours, then, and a feeling like butterfly wings twirls in your tummy.
“I thought I was the only one here.”
You struggle to say something to him, the shock of being caught and the attractiveness of his voice washing over you. He doesn’t seem to mind your timidness, and reaches out his hand.
“I’m Luke.”
Luke. Where had you heard that before? You can’t be sure.
Your much smaller hand falls into his, and your arm erupts into goose flesh. His lips part beautifully—demigod charm.
“You’re a nymph, aren’t you?” He continues. “I’ve seen girls like you in the lake… never back here.”
“Yes,” you reply, in almost a mere whisper. “I’m sorry. I was just.. I’m shy, that’s all.”
He chuckles, both hands running through his hair. Water droplets stick to his forehead.
“Shy. Not shy enough to have a shirt on, though.”
You flush when his eyes drop down to your naked chest. Your hair covers your breasts, but that doesn’t make it any less revealing.
“No one ever comes back here.” you stutter out, embarrassed.
“But I did.”
You don’t know what he means by that. His head tilts, and his body moves closer to you. Your back hits the rock, your chest heaving. “I know nymphs are supposed to be pretty. But I’ve never seen one as beautiful as you.”
Your stomach tangles into knots, from nerves or arousal you aren’t sure.
“Oh,” you breathe out. He chuckles before looking around behind you.
“There isn’t anyone else here, is there?”
You shake your head, and you feel a bit queasy. Regretful, too, for revealing such a thing. Had your stranger danger warnings from your peers taught you nothing?
Something in the boy’s demeanor has changed, and you think that maybe he isn’t your handsome prince after all.
And looking at the scar across his eye, you finally remember who he is— Luke, son of Hermes. A counselor from Cabin Eleven. You had never spoken to him before— it’s a big camp, after all— but his wandering eyes whenever you were near seemed to be filled with lust. You had just toned it down to a weird crush.
How did you not register it before?
You don’t know, and as of right now you don’t care. You begin to move away to the shoreline, where your dress lays haphazardly on the sand.
Something clicks in your head — How could Luke think he was alone if your clothes were there? — and you decide that you really shouldn’t be here. Not near this pond, and especially not near him. Your relaxing day has just turned awry.
“Where are you going?” Luke calls to you, and you begin to move faster. You could care less if your underwear is exposed to him as you finally get to the shore. Your hands nervously fumble with your dress.
“Just… I forgot I had somewhere to be!”
“Where?”
You jump, turning around to see him behind you. His body drips with water and his hair is plastered to his forehead.
“Oh, you know..” you chuckle nervously, a shudder running through you. You avoid eye contact as you slip the dress over your damp body. “Just— nymph stuff.”
“Nymph stuff?” He questions. The way he says it is almost accusingly, as if you aren’t allowed to lie to him. His eyes are dark, his demeanor tense. He walks towards you, and your heart beats out of your chest.
You begin to run.
You don’t know why. It’s maybe—probably— instinct. But you don’t make it far. Not even a few feet. Luke takes after you, and before you can even move off of the sand and onto the grass he’s got you pinned underneath him. A terrified squeak makes its way through you, and you squirm in his grip. He grabs you by the neck and pushes you down into the sand.
“Stop fucking moving,” he growls, fumbling with his belt. “You dumb slut.“
You cry, your bottom lip wobbling. His cock hangs out of his underwear, heavy and thick. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers.
“Luke, please! No, no—“
“Shut up,” he groans out, wrapping a hand around his shaft. Your thighs clench together against your own accord. His other hand flips up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet panties to the open air, and he yanks those down, too. All the while, your heart thuds like a scared rabbit and your legs flail against him.
He pulls your thighs apart, and you whimper weakly.
“Oh, fuck,” Luke’s fingers play with your slit, soaking with something more than water despite your protests. “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
His tongue runs along his bottom lip as he pulls away, his hand going to one side of your head, the other moving down to position himself at your entrance. Your body relaxes against its own will, giving up on fighting. He’s extremely strong, definitely skilled in taking his opponents down. There would be no use.
Your eyes water as he sheathes himself in you. White hot heat courses through your veins, shock on your face as he pushes in to the hilt. You can’t do anything but lay there, frozen.
Luke lets out a grunt, his face resting in the crook of your neck as he begins to move. The smell of lake water and shampoo permeates your senses as you unintentionally bury your nose in his curls and sharply inhale. Your arms wrap around his big shoulders and you let out a salacious cry.
He slaps his hand over your mouth, his voice as venomous as a snake’s.
“Don’t you dare get us caught,” he warns, a low chuckle coming out of his mouth when you clench around him. “Dirty fucking girl. I bet you want that, don’t you? I bet you want everyone to see what I do to you. How much of a desperate bitch you are for me.”
You shake your head aggressively. He smiles.
Turning your head to the side, you see the expanse of the woods and the lake before your eyes flutter shut in pleasure. He hits a spongey spot inside you that has your toes curling, and he watches every movement — the way your face contorts in pleasure, your body taking over the rejection in your mind. The way your wetness leaves a white, creamy ring around the base of his cock. The way that everytime he touches that spot, your legs shake and quiver.
He fucks into it over and over, rutting into your like an animal, hammering his aching dick against your walls and making you see stars.
You should feel guilt, disgust. But he’s so heavy on top of you, and it’s hard to breathe, and his hands are coming down to your clit and— fuck, you’re going to cum.
It happens quickly. You don’t even fathom what happens before your orgasm washes over you, but your vision whites out and you seize up. Back arching, you let out a desperate mewl as liquid gushes out of your abused cunt. Luke, noticing with furrowed brows and his mouth agape, pulls out of you to slip his fingers inside instead. The digits slide in easily, coated in wetness, as he begins to thrust them in and out. The slick sound of your release sets your face on fire.
“Fuck yes,” Luke groans, and he sounds pained. “Give it to me, princess. That’s it, that’s the stuff…”
Rubbing at your clit, he helps you ride out your orgasm, drawing out more of your release. His fingers go up to his mouth, and he slides them over his tongue. He whines, positioning himself back over your pussy, his hand jerking off his own dick.
“Gonna cum all over you,” he grunts, arousal pooling over his fist. “Shit, ‘m gonna...”
His head tilts back, and he lets out a deep moan as he releases all over your bare pussy. Your hole clenches desperately when you feel his warm spend hit it, sticky and wet. His big hand splays across your thigh and digs crescent moons into it as he rides out his high with a shaky quiver of your name.
You lay motionless, his cum drying against your cunt as he comes down. He still holds your legs in his hands—as if you could go anywhere, at this point. As if he hadn’t just fucked you dumb.
He strokes the skin of your thighs, his breath bordering on a sigh.
“This’ll be our little secret,” he says softly.“Yeah, baby? Promise you won’t tell?”
It may sound sugary sweet, but underneath it all the sentence is incredibly threatening.
Sweaty and hot, you weakly nod. He gives a pleased, predatory smile that shakes you to the core.
“That’s my girl.”
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
vaspider · 10 months
Text
Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.
This year, I have something a little softer.
Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.
"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.
"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.
"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."
He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."
I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.
The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.
It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."
I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.
Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.
Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.
I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.
Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.
Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.
3K notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 5 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Attachment
Tumblr media
There's something growing between the two of you- or are you simply growing closer?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, reader is a bit jumpy, some more lore, smut, slow sex, position changes, mentioned round two, some angy jungkook (but not at reader), some angst in the end but it's all resolved dw
Length: 7.2k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: I did not proofread this I'm sorry
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
"Do you even know where we're going?" Jungkook worries, sitting next to you on the subway, but you just shrug.
"I know how to get back though, that's more important." You simply say, making him even more nervous.
Jungkook isn't used to giving up control like this. He's not used to being spontaneous and just doing things out of the blue because you feel like it. Things have to be structured, planned out and with a Plan B to go with it in case something goes wrong. He's an overthinker, and it shows, as he keeps looking around and asking.
"Just relax. There's a park nearby that I wanna go to. We can get some food close by and just eat it there." You say, and he sighs.
"I'm sorry." He admits, leaning back into the seat to try and relax more.
"Its alright. Most people panic whenever I talk about trips I take." You laugh.
"Do you travel a lot?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Used to. But.. he was more of a homebody. Didn't like staying at hotels." You explain, watching the scenery pass by next to you outside the window. "He kind of ruined it for me because he'd just.. continuously point out flaws in everything." You say, and Jungkook listens quietly. "Flaws that I'd.. overlook most of the time, because, nothing's ever perfect anyways, so why focus on that all the time?" You giggle, looking at him now.
"I'd disagree, but also agree." He chuckles. "There can be perfect things. It's just a matter of perspective, and how it's perceived by someone." He offers. "What's perfect to one might not be for another." Jungkook explains, and you nod.
"Thats the more.. complicated way of explaining it, I guess." You joke.
"I tend to overcomplicate things." He bashfully agrees, making you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You'll.. tell me when I get too much, right?" You ask quietly, and he nods, arm wrapping around you as if to reassure.
"I will, don't worry." He reassures you, before he moves to pull your hand up to kiss the back for it-
A gesture that makes you blush, especially from the people around you fawning over it as well.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
He's caught off guard when you walk around in nothing but underwear, visibly unbothered by him seeing you like this.
"Do you.. want to join me?" You ask. "The tub is a bit small but..?" You question, looking over your shoulder at him, who looks oddly unsure. Considering you both have had sex twice now- or more so once, really, it's odd to think that he's like this now. Is it because the nature of your.. whatever it is, has changed?
You're no longer just strangers without any connection. There's something deeper now growing. And maybe that's what's putting him under pressure.
"If you'd like me to." He shrugs.
"Only if you want." You say. "I won't be upset if you say no. I'm a big girl, I can handle rejection." You giggle, and he chuckles as well, smile a bit less tense as before.
"I'm sure you can." He agrees. "Though I'd be stupid to reject." He jokes, getting up to walk closer to you.
"Or simply cautious." You shrug. "Nothing wrong with that." You remind him, but he simply nods, and follows you into the bathroom. The water is streaming in, hot, soap bubbling up. Jungkook watches how you easily shed your last items of clothing before you sink into the water, and he does the same now, revealing himself bare to join you in the barely big enough tub behind you.
You're comfortably leaning against his front, very obviously not shy about this at all- and in a way, oddly enough, it seems to rub off on him, as he feels himself relax with you so close. "I want to move into an apartment with a bathtub one day." You giggle randomly.
"Does yours not have one?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"No, it's too small for one." You deny. "Does yours?" You ask, and he hums his answer.
"It.. I have both. One guest bathroom with a shower. The main one has a tub." He explains to you. "Maybe.. you could come over someday. See it for yourself." Jungkook chuckles.
"Hm. Maybe. When you want me to." You say.
"I do want you to-" He starts, feeling like he needs to argue- though he's not sure what about.
"I know, but you also don't, and that's fine." You laugh. "I.. you know, I kind of get the vibe from you that.." you start, but drift off.
"..that?" He softly urges, hands now moving underneath the water to find yours to hold.
"..that you're not used to.. you know. People asking for permission. Or just.. I don't know." You shrug. "You're always so surprised whenever I do nothing but simply take your feelings into account. You seem so caught off guard whenever I ask you if you're okay with things." You tell him, and his eyes stare at the slowly disappearing soapy bubbles on the water surface as he begins to think.
It's true that it's not common. He's the man- always has been one, and with that always came the burden of decisions. Evelyn always took the things he did for granted- saw it as something natural. The fact that he provided her with a place to stay, money and security was just a given to her, and so was the fact that whenever she decided where to go for dinner, or what to do on his days off. He always drove her to her appointments, always had to please her, treat her right, because that's always been his role to play.
So, you're right. He's not used to being given a choice, asked for permission, or questioned whether or not he was okay with something. And it's become so normal for him, that he truly believed that that was how things had to be like-
and maybe that's also why he was so hesitant with you. Why he still hesitates.
What if he does something wrong? What if he decides something you don't like? What if he's not what you want him to be?
You want him to be himself. But he's not sure he even knows how to be himself anymore.
"You should.. be more selfish, you know?" You say, voice echoing off the walls a little as you move around in the water. "Then I won't feel so bad every time I want to ask you to do something for me." You laugh, joking- but he catches the hidden words.
"You can ask anything of me." He chuckles. "Trust me, I can make decisions just fine." He reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
"I'm not doubting that!" You laugh. "But just- You're.. really nice, and I'm kind of scared I'll screw this up." You sigh, trying to sit up and lean away from him- but he holds you towards him, keeping you close.
"There's no 'screwing up' for either of us. We might not work out for reasons, but I doubt we'll really.. screw up like you say." He offers kindly. "I kind of.. just want to be with you for the next few days. Nothing more, nothing less."
"In what way?" You almost whisper, and he chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
"In whatever way you'd like." He hums against your skin, hands traveling up and down the length of your arms.
"What way would you like?" You ask, and he leans his head a little to rest his face in the crook of your neck.
"Right now.. exactly this." He sighs out. "I'm enjoying this a lot." He reveals, and at that, you lean back into him, and you can feel the way his lips twist into a smile against your skin.
"Is.. what made you fall in love with uhm.. Evelyn was it, right?" You ask, and he nods.
"I'm not sure." He admits. "She was pretty. She liked me, or at least that's what she told me- asked me out one night, and I just said yes because why not?" He shrugs, water sloshing around a bit at that movement. "I didn't.. have much interest in her back then, but I felt like it could just.. grow down the line."
"I mean, she's still pretty from what I could tell." You giggle, though he shakes his head. "No?" You wonder, and again, he shakes.
"Not anymore." He denies. Maybe conventionally attractive. Physically." Jungkook sighs. "But inside, she's just.. ugly."
You nod at that. You understand what he means.
"What about Greg?" He wonders, since the situation seems as good as ever to gain some more information on the guy he's never even seen before.
"He was.. or, you know, isn't as tall as you. A bit shorter. Uhm.. harsher facial features." You remember. "He always looked a little intimidating to me. But I thought it was just appearance. He used to be really nice to me, you know?" You explain, before you sigh. "But.. I don't know. Over time, after we started living together, it just went downhill." You explain to the man currently holding you. "There were warning signs before, sure- but I thought he was just stressed."
Jungkook listens, and makes sure you know that he is doing it- though he also provides some slight physical comfort as well.
"I should've left when he started to yell at me. Insult me, you know? But I didn't. I thought, if I was nice enough.." You stare at the bubbles slowly dissolving. "..I thought it would be okay."
"You were in love." He reassures you. "And we do stupid things when we're in love." Jungkook admits, making you nod as you lift your head a little to look at him.
Finally realizing that while his situation might not have been the same-
he still understands. More than anyone else.
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
The next day starts rather.. interesting to him.  
He's wondering how long it'll take for you to snap- because he's noticed that some of his habits and behaviours are clearly getting onto your nerves. But he's not hiding any of it away- you need to face the truth after all, that he's no angel, and no perfect man without any flaws. He's not sugarcoating things- but you are. And he's waiting for you to drop that façade.  
You're never truly relaxing. You act like you are- but he knows you're not.  
Meanwhile he's just himself, even exaggerates some of what he knows are his nasty habits- and you're just quietly stepping over his pants thrown in the middle of the floor in the hotel room, though he notices the way your eyes cling to them for a good second. And when you actually trip over them on your way out, it's when you finally decide to speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums, lifting his head from his phone to look at you. "Can you.. could you maybe try and I don't know.. put your clothes in one place only?" You ask, meekly, and that's when he notices something important. When he realizes something. 
You seem awfully.. wary saying that. Almost fearful.  
Oh. 
"Of course." He nods, getting up to put them away- and your reaction to that, is that just instantly fall into apologizing for your words- as if what you said could've insulted him in some way.  
"It's just that you could lose something you know?" You hum, wringing your hands anxiously. "And maybe you trip too and-" 
"It's fine, really." Jungkook reassures you after dropping his pants and shirt that's been laying around in his still opened travel bag, now turning towards you. "Come here." He sighs, and you do, walking close to him until he pulls you in and hugs you. "I'm not mad." He offers, and from the way you tense up, he realizes he's hit the nail on the head. "I'll never be mad- never like that. I can promise you that much."  
"I'm sorry." You apologize. "I know you're not like that-"  
"But it's a habit, I get it." He offers, before he lets you go to look at you properly. "I can imagine why you feel like you have to apologize right now- but there's no need to pacify me." He tells you. “I’m not angry.” 
"I know. I'm sorry- I never thought you were like that either." You sigh.  
“Small steps.” He chuckles. “We’ve got time.” he reassures. “Let’s go out and see if we can find a restaurant we want to eat at, hm? Something casual.” He teases lightly, making you nod.  
Just like he said- it’s a habit.  
You’re so used to having to justify your actions, having to apologize for everything, having to just suck it up and get over it that it’ll be probably a long road until you’re truly free again. Does he want to deal with that? Maybe not, maybe he’s just too nice to say it right now because you’re..  well, stuck together in this hotel on this trip together for a few more days to come, since he ended up making an entire week out of the three day trip. Maybe he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable,  because he’s just a nice guy like that.  
“Hey.” He rips you out of your thoughts. “let’s order room service instead.” He offers, and you’re confused.  
“But you wanted to eat out?” You wonder. “and.. we’re wasting an entire day by staying inside-“  
“We’re not wasting anything.” He chuckles. “I went on this trip with you to spend time with you. Which is what I’m doing right now.” He offers you, pulling your hands to have you close as he sits on the edge of the bed you both share. “you’re getting stressed. Tell me how I can help you.” He asks gently, as you sit on his thighs, unsure.  
You don’t know why you’re so on edge today. You can’t turn it off.  
“it just feels like.. any second now, something might happen.” You sigh, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I’m not used to things being so.. okay.”  
“I understand that.” He nods. “you’ll get used to it in the future, I promise.” Jungkook makes sure to tell you, before he takes your hands again. “can I.. ask you something? And please don’t.. I’m not going to say the things I’ll say because something is  wrong with you or anything.” He says, and you nod for him to go on. “have you considered.. talking to someone about your past experiences? Someone professional?” He wonders, but you shake your head.  
“I feel like.. it wasn’t bad enough to really go to therapy for it. Lots of people go through tough times like that, and they manage just fine.” You shrug. “I’m just being dramatic about it. Like you said, I’ll get used to it with time.” You defend yourself by instinct.  
“You’ve been through something traumatic. There’s no.. threshold of how bad something needs to be to be able to seek out help.” He explains with a gentle tone of voice. “I’m not going to force you, obviously. But just so you know, your pain isn’t invalid just because others had it worse.” He says. “Think about it, at some point. Doesn’t have to be right now.”  
“I’ll.. keep it in mind.” You nod. “thank you.” You offer him, and he nods as well.  
“Nothing to thank me for.” 
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ 
Jungkook is agitated.  
He’s been silent for a bit now, desperately searching for a spot to charge the electric rental car at- but all he finds are either in use or out of order. It’s raining too, meaning there’s not really anything you both could do other than just drive back to the hotel- but this charging spot has to work now, or the car won’t make it back.  
Everything is just going wrong.  
From the restaurant reservation somehow getting mixed up, to his phone constantly ringing because people won’t let him have his days off- poor device slipping out his hand at some point as he’d wanted to take it out the pocket of his pants, clattering to the ground, screen cracked in several places. Then, he’s informed of something urgent at work- he’s needed back earlier than he wanted to take time off for, meaning you’ll have to pack your things tonight already to fly back home by tomorrow morning.  
And now, as he gets out wordlessly to take the charger from the station, he reaches his breaking point.  
“fucking hell!” He barks out as he’s back inside the car, hand hitting the steering wheel once as the car denies any further distance. And he’s got tunnel vision too- not noticing the way you instinctively flinch next to him.  
But it’s just a habit of your body. Your mind knows that Jungkook’s anger doesn’t work like you’re used to.  
He’s on the phone, talking to a coworker when you take the chance to undo your seatbelt, before you open the door. His hand reaches out, softly holding your coat to send you an confused glance- worried even that he might’ve caused you distress. But you  give him a smile in return, and get out to walk into the gas station, finding an employee.  
“Sorry- I was just wondering.. the charging station outside doesn’t seem to work?” You ask, and the man behind the counter nods.  
“Oh? Yeah it does it sometimes. Let me come check it, it’ll probably just need a restart.” The man shrugs, taking some keys with him before he walks back out with you trailing after him. “Ah yeah, stupid thing got a little crazy again. Go sit inside though, you’ll catch a cold!” He laughs, waving you towards the car standing in front of the little station. “let me know when it starts charging.”  
You instead walk to open the trunk however, fetching an umbrella instead to hold over the man’s head- something he laughs at but thanks you for either way as he taps around on the panel.  
Jungkook watches from inside, using this moment to calm down again.  
He didn’t think at all. Did he scare you? Probably, considering he can be quite scary to other people as well if he gets frustrated like this. He hates how things like these just bubble beneath his skin all day until it boils over- especially considering that he’s been so eager to make sure that you know he’s not one to get angry easily. And yet here he is, having just yelled at a car for not working.  
Maybe he’s not the right person for you after all. You need someone calm and collected, not someone like him.  
Suddenly, the car chimes up, telling him it’s finally starting to charge- and outside, you’re thanking the man with the thick grey beard with a grateful smile, one he returns just as warmly before he walks back into the gas station with you. And when you emerge back out, you’re holding two cups of coffee to go- rain soaking your hair as you hold the closed umbrella beneath your arm.  
Inside the car again, you offer one of the cups towards him as if nothing happened. “I didn’t know if.. you liked sugar or creamer with yours.” You say. “so I brought some of both.” You say, putting the little packages of sugar and creamer on the mid console- where his hand suddenly finds yours, silver rings catching your attention for a second.  
“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologizes, fingers tracing your cooled down hand that holds your own cup of hot liquid. “I didn’t mean to get so riled up.”  
“You’re stressed.” You shrug. “Its understandable. Just.. maybe take a moment to calm down right now?” You offer, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.  
“thank you.” He says, before you nod and reach for the sugar packages to dump some into what he realizes is tea.  
“The car is really quiet when it drives.” You say, and he nods, taking a sip from his coffee.  
“It makes no sound.” He confirms. “the most you hear.. are really just the wheels on the road. The engine isn’t  loud at all.” He explains.  
“so when we drive fast it’s not the engine getting louder?” You ask, and he shakes his head.  
“No. It’s all just friction, and the air passing over the car.” He tells you.  
“Its kind of funny how far we’ve come.” You say, slipping out of your shoes to get comfortable in your seat, rain falling onto the roof of the car. “like, we have cars that we can just.. charge like phones. It feels weird.” You giggle, resting your head against the seat, while your back leans against the door.  
“Do you have a driver’s license?” He asks, and you shake your head.  
“I’m too scared to drive.” You deny. “I couldn’t handle memorizing all the rules and keeping them in mind at all times. I rather.. like being the passenger.” You nod. “you drive really well. I’d sleep if we went on a road trip.” You say, and he smiles.  
“I take that as a compliment.” He tells you, and you nod.  
“It was meant to be one.” You affirm. “earlier.. it was funny.” You say, suddenly not looking at anything- and he knows what you mean by ‘earlier’. “it’s like.. my body still reacts the same, but my head knows there’s no danger.” You explain. “they’re.. detached, in a way.”  
“I’m really sorry I lashed out like that.” He apologizes again.  
“don’t be.” You shake your head. “I need to face those situations too. There’s..  no use in wrapping me in bubble wrap. After all, you wanted to see if I can handle you, right?” You ask, and he nods. “See? I think my mind can. My body might not to some degree.”  
“we can work on that.” He gently offers. “your.. body will learn too. I want you to heal with me.” He says, and you nod.  
“I want that too.” You say. “I want you to heal with me too, even if all I can offer is just.. well, nothing.” You laugh, but he shakes his head.  
“You offer me this.” He explains, eyes watching you as his hand reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “you offer me a break. A.. moment to calm down, like you said.” He reminds you of your words.  
“if that’s what you need, I can be just that.” You say, and he nods.  
“I couldn’t ask for more.” 
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ 
You’re late, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
He’d told himself to wait and not really indulge in any of this as long as you both don’t really know for sure where you want to take this- but you’re like a drug he can’t help but fall back on, a habit he can’t shake off. And it all happened so naturally, no words spoken as you both simply understood what the other was craving.  
Right now, everything is slow. You’re not even really undressed, him having kicked off his underwear beneath the covers, having had to somewhat get up and pull his travel bag closer to find a condom in there he had packed just in case, even though he did not plan for this.
It should have been his moment of realization. But he just couldn’t hold himself back after the lazy, but warm and almost comforting foreplay you two had indulged in after just having woken up, barely conscious.  
Your shirt is simply pushed up to reveal your naked skin beneath, and his hands are slow as they tug your underwear down your legs, sticky with your arousal from the earlier pleasure he’d brought you with nothing but his hand. You’re so warm from sleeping so close to him underneath the blanket you shared, eyes closed as you enjoy his offering of affection to you, kissing up your neck as he positions himself above you.  
There’s still no need for words. And he also fears that any sentence uttered by him could shatter this delicate moment between the two of you.  
Even though you should’ve woken up an hour ago, making you terribly late now, he just has to have this right now. It’s not just sex, and he hopes it’s not just that to you either- because this feels like a soft confession that’s not done in words, but actions instead. You really do offer him a feeling of weightlessness, as if time doesn’t exist, and no one expects anything of him. You just take him as he is, no questions asked.  
Maybe you’re this timeless because it doesn’t matter to you yet, considering the difference in age between you two. Should he feel bad about it then?  
Possibly. But then again, just like he’s using you to escape his own responsibilities and the pressure of his life, you’re using him just as much for a stable person to hold onto and rely on. And he’s fine with that. A good, healthy relationship should always have a balanced exchange. Give and take in equal amounts. Will this all become a problem in the future? Will you one day realize that he’s not able to offer you all the experiences you should have made in your twenties?  
Maybe. But even so, he realizes you’re right. It still wouldn’t be wasted time, if it’s spent with you.  
So what if he has to book and pay for another flight because you’ll surely miss the one he chose last night? He really couldn’t care less, because there’s no way he’s going to rush this. It’s the first chance at proper sex with you, finally a moment where he can give you actual attention as you deserve, not some quick fuck in the car or random blowjob on your couch. This isn’t just to satisfy your urges.  
This is a chance for him to show you love. 
And it’s clear that this is new to you- because you’re restless, as if you’re constantly expecting him to change pace, go faster, begin to rush towards his own pleasure. But he doesn’t, because that’s not his goal at all. His actual goal is to somewhat prove a point to you- that what he’s offering is not what you’re used to, in no way. He doesn’t see you as someone replaceable, someone who just has to be there, who has to listen to his every demand and do exactly as he says.  
No- he wants you to be yourself. He wants you to gain back that autonomy you rightfully deserve.  
Because one of the biggest things he noticed is how you constantly seem to live in a state of trying to pacify him at all times. As if you have to make sure he’s always happy and content with decisions made and words said, and he wonders just how bad your past relationship must’ve been to cause you to develop such behavior. So right now, he’s attempting to show you that he’s quite honestly the most calm around you anyways, even if you don’t do anything at all but exist alongside him.  
That’s enough already. He doesn’t need anything special from you, but yourself.  
Do you feel it? The way he’s pushing himself inside you isn’t an act of pure lust, but an attempt to connect with you, oddly enough. Jungkook has never seen sex as just that- but he has to admit that with Evelyn, the act had lost it’s appeal to him over time, mostly because he both knew that she was seeking out other people’s company aside from his own, and also because it just felt empty and unfulfilling to him. There was nothing to be gained from it, not for him at least- it only made him feel dirty and used, and towards the end of his relationship with her, he couldn’t bare to really let her touch him any longer. 
No matter what intention she had.  
But right now, with you, he’s feeling something- an urge he’s not felt in a long time, an excitement for possibilities and an eagerness to explore. And right now, he wants to take his time, watch you squirm beneath him, maybe even push you towards the limit of your patience. Will you beg?  
Why does that sound so arousing to him?  
He’s curious to know what you enjoy, what you want to explore, what you think about when you feel that specific need. He wants to ask what it was like before, has so many questions- but he also doesn’t want to speak right now, feels like this is neither the place nor perfect time to have a conversation like this. So instead, he just does what feels right- 
And judging by the way you sigh and reach out to touch him as well, it appears to be exactly what you like as well.  
Though he can also spot that impatience of yours growing, his smile not possible to be hidden as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, simply enjoying the closeness of it all as his hands run up and down over your body, exploring what he’s already seen before by now. But it doesn’t get old, doesn’t get boring- it never will be, most likely. He doesn’t know how long this will last, how long you’ll stay with him, or how long he’ll stay with you- but he wouldn’t mind to have you at his side long term, he knows that much.  
Or at least, he wants to try and make this permanent. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, clearly a sign of your dissatisfaction with the way he only occasionally actually moves, if anything, this all could count more as cockwarming than anything else. And now’s the time he has to break his silence, as he chuckles against your skin, placing faint barely felt kisses against the side of your neck. “What’s wrong, darling?” He purrs almost, while your hands move to rest on his shoulders.  
“Move.!” You complain, and he loves the demand so much. Not because he wants to go faster, but because you demand anything at all- something you should do more often. Maybe this is his way to go, moving forward. Maybe he could fuck some confidence into you.  
He surely wouldn’t mind doing it that way.  
“I am moving.” He teases, his low tone still raspy from lack of use during sleep causing your core to clench around him.  
“Our flight..” You mumble, fingers running over the back of his neck, causing him to involuntarily shiver.  
“I’ll book a different one later.” He denies, adjusting his position a little, pressing himelf as deep as he can inside you, leaning back to have his hands on your thighs, fingers running over the warm skin.  
“But that’s wasted money..” You say, unable to really resist his touch however, your arguing weak in nature and delivery. “And you’re needed back at work..”  
“I’m needed here, right now.” He instead teases, using your legs to pull you closer, slowly starting to thrust, your chest swaying alongside the pace he sets. “By someone I find way more important than work.”  
“But-” You start, but he decides to play dirty now, delivering a particularly hard thrust to shut you up or at least give him the chance to speak before you can finish your sentence.  
“You’re important.” He simply chuckles. “Right now, and afterwards, too.” He makes sure to tell you, before he leans over again, faces close. “Can I kiss you?” He wonders, eyes falling to your lips for just a second. “You can say no. I won’t be upset at it.”  
But you nod. “I want you to.” You say, for a second questioning if your words might’ve been too demanding- but it doesn’t appear to be the case, as he leans in to catch your lips, first kiss between you both passionate and warm- not hot, nowhere near burning. It’s like a promise, a silent gesture of devotion from him, an offering of his to show that he’s actually taking this seriously. 
He’s in it now. This is no longer just playing around.  
He’s not going to tell you he loves you- because he’s not there yet, and he knows neither are you. But he truly believes that these feelings can grow if he nurtures them well, and if you accept them and let him plant them in your heart. He wants the vines of what might grow to connect you both, because that’s what you both deserve.  
He knows his own worth. And he wants you to know yours, too.  
His lip piercings are a little foreign, but in a way, they make it a unique experience to you. Or maybe it’s the sincerity he has in his actions, the way he treats you, the fact that he pays so much attention to you as well during this whole thing. You’re not used to this. He doesn’t seem to expect anything of you, and it makes you a bit anxious.  
But even that, he notices.  
“Let go, darling.” He chuckles against your lips, barely apart from you. “I’ll take care of you.” 
“But shouldn’t you be taken care of too?” You worry, and he just smiles.  
“This is more than enough for me, trust me.” Jungkook responds, moving a bit faster now. “I just want you.” He tells you, and you're sure he doesn’t know the weight of that statement. 
Or how long you’ve waited for someone to say it like that. 
Because even though it’s said right now, during the act, but it’s not actually sexually charged. It’s not said in the context of ‘I want you right now’- but it’s more generalized. He wants you.. In general. Not just in this moment, or for this specific action.  
So when you simply trust yourself in the heat of the moment, turning the tables or more so positions, you feel a strange sense of confidence as you now ride him, his hands on your hips taken by yours, fingers intertwining while he watches you for a moment, clearly fighting the urge to just relax and close his eyes, sight of you too pretty to miss. But he can’t help it, leans his head back into the pillows with a lazy smirk on his lips, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you, slow pace all you both need as you push each other over the edge, coming undone at different times- but still, that doesn’t make the moment any less meaningful.  
He keeps you in this position for a moment while he spills into the condom inside of you, not utterly exhausted, but entirely satisfied nonetheless. He feels nice, like his mind and body have been reset, truly giving him a fresh start to the day as he finally opens his eyes after bathing in his own afterglow.  
A glance to the side offers him the time. Your flight has left almost half an hour ago by now. 
“We missed it.” You mumble sleepily, and he nods, before he playfully manhandles you around to lay on your back on the bed again, pulling your shirt over your head. “Jungkook!” You laugh, and he chuckles along, attacking your shoulder and neck with kisses and even bites, visibly energized now.  
“Good.” He purrs against your skin. “Up for a round two?” 
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💜── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ 
You feel a bit embarrassed. 
You’ve been home for two days now, and you miss him. Terribly so. Even though you try and occupy yourself with work, your mind keeps going back to the time spent with him, and you’re conflicted. Should you reach out? Text him? He told you he wouldn’t mind, but he also seemed a little stressed about work, so you probably shouldn’t bother him.  
Maybe you could ask Tae? 
But he doesn’t really give you an answer, somehow sounding oddly reluctant even to just talk about his friend in any way, and it makes you suspicious. So today, you finally jump over your shadow, and text him- just to get no reply for hours. It’s not until later that day that you receive a phone call instead- his voice sounding tired. “I’m sorry I’ve been silent.” He simply says, and you’re immediately alarmed.  
“What’s that noise in the background?” You want to know, because it sounds very much like something you’re very much familiar with. And with the way he dodges an answer by sighing first, you just know what’s going on. “Which hospital are you in? Do you need anything?” You rant. “What even happened?” 
“Nothing happened-” He quietly argues, sounding awfully like a scolded child almost, but you cut him off.  
“Well something clearly happened for you to be in hospital!” You argue, before you calm down. “I’m sorry, I just-” 
But Jungkook reassures you as always, giving you the name of the hospital he’s staying at, as well as the room he’s in, so you can visit him. And the moment you walk in with some snacks approved by the doctors, you feel like you’re the one in need of medical attention.  
“What happened?” You weakly ask, carefully sitting down next to his bed where he’s in, a hand running over his face, careful not to twist the delicate tubes connected to the needle in his arm.  
“Just an accident.” He says, though he’s not looking at you- and it makes you anxious.  
“What accident?” You ask, and when he doesn’t answer, you press on, unable to keep your emotions in check properly. “Jungkook please. You said we should be honest-” You softly say, and he sighs, licking his lips.  
“I.. Fell asleep.” He mumbles quietly. “While driving to a meeting. I was late, and it was.. Just for a split second- and suddenly it all went to shit.” He explains. “I was- the road was empty. And it was so fucking late, I- don't know what I was thinking.”  
It’s quiet after that, apart from staff and visitors moving outside in the hall, barely heard through the closed door, but the machine that’s keeping close measurement of his vitals occasionally makes a sound.
Jungkook barely manages to look at you, and when he does, he’s not sure what that expression on your face means. You’re looking at a nasty bruise on his wrist, face unreadable, before you eventually speak again.  
“Jungkook.” You say his name, and your voice is bone chillingly serious, demanding his full attention.  
“Don’t you ever do that again.” 
Your words are heavy, full of emotion and yet delivered in a monotone anger that makes him realize the gravity of the situation. He’s lucky he didn’t hit anyone in that tiny second, should be forever grateful nothing major happened at all except for his car getting crashed beyond repair.  
“I’m sorry-” He begins, but you shake your head, speaking after you take a deep breath as if to collect yourself.  
“No, I don’t want an apology.” You deny. “You can’t do this.” You say, and he’s a bit unsure what you mean, when you turn to look at him with glossy eyes. “You can’t make me get attached just to... pull something like this.” You say. “That’s cruel, Jungkook. You could’ve killed someone.” You tell him, and he nods, quietly. “Get a cab next time, or have someone drive you, fuck I don’t care!” You become a bit louder now. “But you can’t do this. You can’t be this selfish.” Is your response, as you finally properly look at him, close to tears. “I’m starting to need you, Jungkook.” You confess.  
“You can’t leave me alone like that.”  
And at the first tear falling, he chooses to ignore his physical pain, to move over a little and have you sit on the side of his bed, clinging to him as the full force of it all hits you, arms reaching out for him, grabbing hard at the hospital gown he’s in, desperate to hold him.  
As if you need to know he’s still there, that he’ll be fine.  
“I’ll make sure to rest properly from now on.” He promises, hand that’s not hooked up to anything running over your back as you cry into his chest. “I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” He tells you, and you nod, though you stay close.  
It takes a good moment for you to calm down again, and when you are, he uses that energy you both have now to dig a little deeper.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, by the way.” He tells you, and you shrug. “No, I mean it. There’s no excuse for it.”  
“You were busy.” You mumble, but he shakes his head.  
“Doesn’t matter.” He denies. “I’ll make more time for you. I need to rest anyways, and even after I’m healed, I should take a step back in general. Like I said-” He offers, wincing a bit when a movement causes him pain. “-I have to take better care of myself. For you.”  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble, detaching yourself a little from him again as you sit up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I’m getting clingy already-”  
“No, please.” He encourages, giving you a soft smile. “Be clingy. I promise you, I’m just.. It's just a bit odd to me at the moment.” Jungkook reveals. “I’ve not had someone care for me in such a way in.. A while.” Or ever, he wants to actually say- but he doesn’t want to put so much pressure on you.  
He can leave those big confessions to a later date.  
“Should I.. do you need help at home once you get out of here?” You wonder. “I could help you? Or, maybe you can.. I don’t know-”  
“I’d really appreciate your company.” He smiles. “And your help too. But mostly your company.” Jungkook teases, making you laugh in relief.  
Not just because he clearly looks worse than it actually is- 
But also because his smile looks oddly youthful- and most of all, truly genuine. 
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Heavy Weather
In which yours and Azriel’s mission is disrupted by a major inconvenience: your cycle.
WC: 4.1k
Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff and period stuff!
—————-
Gods, it was cold.
The snow fell down in sheets, covering the forest floor and soaking into your leathers. Azriel was trekking about twenty feet in front of you, eyes scouring the area, although his grip was loose around Truth Teller at his side.
“The Winter Court…” you grouched, mimicking your high lord. “Why couldn’t it have been Day Court. Or Autumn.”
Azriel chuckled. “You wanna spend time with Helion and Eris? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
The air in front of you steamed as you let out an exhausted breath. You both had been pushing through this snow for hours. You couldn’t even remember what you were looking for at this point. You had only been there for about ten hours, and a little into the cold wilderness, you found your brain becoming foggy and your body fatigued. You really needed a blanket and sleep.
“Helion would never let me freeze. He likes body heat too much. And Eris has fire powers.”
“Something tells me Eris wouldn’t be too keen on helping.”
You shrugged, lifting your foot to step over a snow-covered log. “He’s always been fine to me.”
A muscle in Azriel's jaw jumped, his wings going tight against his back. You could barely make out the pink coloring of his mouth through the snowfall. “I don’t trust him,” he said. “Not after Mor, and not with you.”
“So dramatic.” You attempted to ease the tension in the air at your mention of the soon-to-be High Lord of the Autumn Court.
“I’m dramatic? You live in the Night Court and suddenly you act like snow is going to kill you.”
You did feel like it was going to kill you. You didn’t know what had you so exhausted, why the snow seemed to be soaking through your clothes and seeping its way straight into your bones. You had slept okay last night, hadn’t you? You were wearing weather-appropriate clothing. You had done enough training and exercise that this hike shouldn’t be wearing you down this much.
You hadn’t realized that Azriel had turned around to look at you, stopping in his tracks as he waited for you to catch up.
“Are you actually okay?” His voice was more serious this time, less teasing.
Giving him a nod, you focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “Yeah. Let’s just make shelter somewhere soon. I really am cold.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. You didn’t blame him, you must have looked pathetic. Your teeth were chattering so loud the same spies you came to the Winter Court to track would no doubt be able to hear you if close. Your body felt like you had weights pulling you down under the earth, with each step comparable to trudging through quicksand. And you just felt off - like you could pass out or throw up at any moment.
Azriel waited until you were by his side once again before continuing to move.
“There’s an abandoned cabin not too far from here. We’ll camp there for the night, get you some rest. Maybe a blanket or two.”
The wind burnt your cheeks as you tilted you head to look at him. He seemed completely unaffected. In fact, it was as if he was taking a stroll through the Summer Court, right along the water, basking in the breeze.
“How are you not freezing?”
His lips quirked up at your angry tone. “Believe it or not, Sunshine, I grew up in the snowy Illyrian mountains.”
You nodded, only half-hearing his response. And then your feet were stumbling over one another, and Azriel had to reach out quickly to prevent you from falling.
“Not too far now,” he reassured. But he kept his hand on your leathers the rest of the way to the cabin, monitoring your movements and ensuring you wouldn’t just topple over. Every so often, you felt him look over at you, as if he didn’t trust his hand and wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen behind again.
It felt like hours before the rickety structure came into view, and by that point, you truly knew something was wrong with you. Had you been poisoned at some point during the trip? Were you sick? You didn’t think you’d ever been sick in your entire life as fae.
Once you were at the landing of the cabin, you realized Azriel had been supporting your weight much more than you had intended or thought. His entire forearm was supporting your back now, pushing you forward until you crossed the threshold into the enclosed space.
You heard the door shut tightly behind you, sucking the sound of the wind out with it. In the silence, you nearly collapsed.
There wasn’t much time to take in your surroundings. You briefly saw a couch, a kitchen area, and a fireplace. There was probably a bathroom down the hall, maybe a bed if you were lucky. Your thoughts didn’t go past that though as you stumbled for the sofa.
Azriel watched as you fell into it, your head tipping back and eyes scrunching closed. You tried to school your features into something less uncomfortable, but you doubted it was convincing.
“I’ll get a fire going.”
You heard his footsteps move toward the fireplace, the scuffling of movements as wood was moved from the keep to the hearth. However, despite his action to get the cabin warm for you, you could still feel his eyes drifting toward the couch intermittently.
Wood began cracking, a light forming in the corner of your vision. Still cold, still weak, you tried to breathe steadily.
You were about to say something to distract Azriel from your odd behavior when you felt fabric being laid over your body. Your hands automatically went to grip the blanket, pulling it up to your chin weakly before peeking your eyes open.
Azriel was already moving away from the couch, but he didn’t leave the room before muttering a quiet, “Get some sleep.”
Sleep, unfortunately, did not come easy to you. You alternated between feeling like you were going to vomit and feeling like you were being stabbed. Your muscles ached, and it seemed to take all of your energy to rise your chest in a breath.
You tried to focus on the fire, on the way sparks flew from the wood, briefly illuminating the dark stone. The warmth of the flames was drifting toward the couch now, and you tried to adjust your body to move closer to it.
In your movement, though, you noticed the way your damp clothes felt different against your skin. The snow had soaked into the fabric, but the feeling you recognized in your core at your movement toward the fireplace had you nearly whimpering.
Azriel was there before you could make it fully off the couch, reaching his hands out to catch you from falling.
“What are you doing?”
“I- I need to-“
“-Lay down,” he interrupted. “Rest.”
You tried to breathe through the pain. Your vision was becoming blurry with each stab through your abdomen, and you honestly did not understand how you missed your symptoms earlier.
“I can’t, Azriel… I need-“
“-I know.” He gently guided you back onto the couch, hands pulling the blanket over you once again. “I know. Just breathe. I’ll be right back.”
Did he know? Could he sense it now? Could he smell the blood? Recognize the symptoms too?
There wasn't time to be embarrassed because he was gone again quickly, and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped at the pain running through your body.
When you had first met Feyre and she had told you the difference between fae and human cycles, you had nearly cursed the Mother for torturing your kind. You had been literally stabbed before, beaten, and burned, and nothing compared to the pain of your cycle.
“Here,” Azriel said, reappearing before you. He laid some sort of steaming broth he must have found in a cupboard on the table in front of you, along with some torn pieces of cloth, presumably from a towel found in the rest of the house.
You looked at the items, tears blurring your eyes again. You felt like you couldn’t move, everything ached, everything hurt, everything felt wrong-
“I need help,” you got out through your tears, your voice sounding weak even to yourself.
“Okay.” Azriel nodded. “That’s okay.”
He gripped under your legs and behind your back, pulling you up until you were on the edge of the couch. "I have changes of clothes for us in my bag. Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?”
You nodded, too embarrassed to look at him. Azriel didn’t say a word though, instead grabbing a few of the pieces of cloth, his bag off the ground, and scooped you up into his arms.
He walked you both to the bathroom, and you kept your face buried close to his chest both so you wouldn’t have to see if you got anything on the couch and so that Azriel wouldn’t see the redness in your cheeks.
When he entered the bathroom, he set you onto the counter before setting the supplies down. From his bag, he pulled out the extra pair of underwear, pants, bra, and shirt you had packed for yourself.
“Do you want to wash off?” He asked genuinely, glimpsing over his shoulder at the antique bathtub.
Did you want to be clean? Absolutely. But your entire body felt like it was going to fall through the floor, weighed down with aches, pain, and exhaustion. You weren’t even sure you could get your arms to move enough to scrub yourself clean.
You whimpered at your inability to do what you needed, at how weak you felt, and the frustration that coursed through your veins.
"Hey, it's okay." Azriel brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, bringing your eyes to meet his own. "What do you need? What can I do?"
You just shook your head, face flushing red. "I can't ask you to help me with this."
Because this was embarrassing and some males thought it was weak and gross and something to be kept taboo. You were quite literally bleeding through your leathers, with your abdomen, back, and legs all twisting and cramping in pain, heat scouring your body, and you felt like a little kid again -- needing to be taken care of, unable to do the basic task of looking after yourself. It was humiliating, but especially in front of Azriel of all people. Someone so composed, so strong.
It wasn't as if your friends didn't know about your cycle or what you female fae went through. On the contrary, they always offered to help where they could. If you missed out on training because of your cycle, Cassian would always bring up some tonics or some extra food and water to make sure you were okay. A few cycles that were particularly bad had Rhys sending after Madja, and Azriel rushing when he heard. He was the one who had advocated for Madja to give you some sleeping tonics to help you sleep through the pain instead of withstanding it.
But here? On a mission? This was too much.
"Why not?" Azriel's question brought you back to the present. He looked genuinely confused, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Azriel..." you pleaded with his questioning, arms wrapping around your stomach as pain hit you again. You swayed slightly on the counter, Azriel's hands dropping from your face to your waist to steady you.
"You're in pain." His voice was serious, and you wanted to hide your face in his chest. "Let me help you. I don't like seeing you like this."
You swallowed, trying to reign in your shame and embarrassment. It wasn't a big deal, you told yourself. This was natural. And Azriel is over five hundred years old, surely he's seen and dealt with cycles and all they entail before. It doesn't have to make a difference being yours.
"Okay," you whispered. "Could you- could you uh, help me wash off? I don't think I can..."
He didn't make you finish your sentence once he realized you didn't know how to explain your own weakness at the moment. He just nodded, bringing his hands to your arms and rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"Of course."
You nodded, more-so reassuring yourself that this was okay. He was okay. Right? He'd say if he was uncomfortable?
Azriel turned and twisted the faucet to the bathtub, fingers resting under the water that came out until he found the temperature pleasing. The water was clear, thankfully, and the tub looked clean as well.
Once that was filling, he turned to the cabinets you were seated on, bending down and looking through them for any kind of soap and towels. Finding the supplies he was looking for, he set them by the edge of the tub and turned to where you were sitting.
"Arms up?"
His question was hesitant, asking more than if you needed help. Did you want to completely undress? Were you comfortable with him seeing you like this?
You lifted your arms, the weight of your limbs feeling heavy. You wanted to throw up, to go to sleep, to cry.
Azriel's gentle hands moved the fabric up your torso, keeping his touch to the clothing only. Once it was free from your form, you nodded at him to keep going.
He grasped your hips and lifted you to stand, holding onto the majority of your weight when you seemed unstable. His hands gripped your own and brought them to his own torso.
"Hold onto me."
And you did, allowing yourself to lean into his strong form as he unbuttoned your snow-soaked pants and began to pull them down. You rested your head on his chest, turning your face into him to hide your embarrassment at the blood that no doubt coated your pants and your middle.
Tears pricked your eyes at how vulnerable this all was, but you blinked them away as Azriel backed up, your bare form now before him.
His casual look over you wasn't one of lust or desire but of care and concern. He was looking for injuries, hypothermia, anything that would need immediate attention before the bath. When he was satisfied, his gentle touch led you to the edge of the tub, grasping your forearm and helping you ease into the water.
You sank low into the heat, releasing a breath you hadn't known you had been holding from your cramps.
Azriel seemed to notice how you had been holding your breath too. He brought a hand up to push some of the sweat-slicked hair back from your forehead. "Make sure you're breathing, sweetheart."
You nod, closing your eyes and trying to relax through the stabbing in your back.
You could hear the soap bottle cap opening, the sound of liquid meeting a hand, and scrubbing. Peeking an eye open, you see Azriel getting his hands wet and reaching for one of your arms.
"Is this okay?" He asked.
Your heart thumped in your chest. He was too good for you. Better than any male you had ever met.
"Yes. Thank you." Your voice was small, weak in your state, but you both could hear the emotion in it.
"You don't have to thank me," Azriel responded, his hands moving up and down your arm softly before reaching for the other. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
Humming in response, you sat up so he could help get your back. He was mindful of your comfort, sweeping over any vulnerable or inappropriate places lightly to ensure you were clean but never lingering.
While he washed, he told you stories of Rhys' sister. How when they were younger and she had gotten her first cycle, Rhys hadn't known what to do. None of them had. They thought she was dying, and Rhys' mother had to corral them together into the living room to get them to calm down and stop their panicking. He laughed at the story, and you couldn't help the relaxed giggles of your own.
"I can't imagine the stoic shadowsinger panicking over a girl's cycle."
His lips curved into a soft smile, eyes bright with adoration. "What do you think I'm doing now?"
You looked up at him, smiling. You couldn't believe how comfortable you felt, how normal this all felt. You were completely naked in front of him, completely bare to his touch while he sat clothed next to you, but it felt safe.
"You don't seem too panicked," you tried to tease.
He scoffed. "You should have seen me in the kitchen when we first got here. I was borderline scrambling."
You laughed, and he led you to a sitting position, stroking your back with his fingers lightly. "You ready to get out?"
At your confirmation, he scooped you up into his arms, no doubt getting water everywhere on the floor and also all over his own clothes. You squeaked in protest, but he didn't seem to care, only setting you back onto your feet and wrapping you up tightly in a towel.
Teeth chattering at the newfound cold outside of the bath, you gripped the towel around you, staring up into the bright hazel eyes of the male in front of you. He was still holding you tightly, eyes surveying your form. You wondered what he was thinking in this moment, but you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and let him keep holding you.
His hands moved with the towel, rubbing your arms before bringing the fabric down to your legs.
Right. You needed to get dressed.
"Here we go." Azriel grabbed your spare change of clothes, starting with your underwear. He took some of the makeshift pads he had created, placing one in the underwear before leaning down.
He looked up at you from his knees, and you wanted to frame the image. The sight of this angel, his dark hair messy from the snow, hazel eyes shining with care, on his knees for you, hands open to help take care of you. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him, and never let him stop touching you.
But this was Azriel, and he had never given you any inclination that was something he wanted.
You stepped into the fabric, allowing the shadowsinger to pull it up your legs. Once those were on, he bundled you up in your new shirt before holding the pants in front of you.
"Did you want to wait until we leave for these? They are leathers. I don't want you to be more uncomfortable just for the sake of feeling like you have to wear them."
"I'd rather not."
He nodded, setting them aside before wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you back to the couch.
You were feeling a little better now that you were clean and not bleeding down your legs, but you still felt drowsy and like someone was hacking your insides apart. On your way back, your knees nearly gave way with the pain of a particular cramp, and you couldn't help the cry that escaped with it.
Azriel caught you swiftly, hiking you back up into his arms.
When he laid you back onto the couch, now covered in blankets with even more on top of you, you looked up at the exhausted male. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said. He sounded genuine, but you couldn't help but feel guilty.
You gritted your teeth through the pain, gripping your abdomen tightly. "I ruined this mission."
"Nothing has been ruined."
He walked over to the fireplace once you were settled, stoking the logs to get the fire rising again. "Well," he continued. "Except your pants."
You couldn't help but laugh, and the shadowsinger actually cracked a smile at the sound. But then you were grimacing, tears coming to your eyes and your breath hitching in your throat at your body's attack on itself.
Azriel frowned, hands twitching at his sides.
"We'll get ahold of Rhys," he reassured. "Get you to Madja."
You tried to breathe through it, knuckles white from gripping the blankets around you. You could hear his footsteps getting closer, feel his heat as he kneeled down next to the couch beside you, feel his strong hands unravel your fingers from the blanket and grip them in his own.
His other hand came up and slowly stroked your hair back, gently weaving his fingers through the strands. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, despite how tightly you squeezed his hand.
"I'm okay," you tried to convince him. "It's just a cycle."
You weren't sure why you were trying to downplay your pain so much. Were you trying to come across stronger than you were? To impress him? Did you think he would truly find you weak?
"I've seen fae be out for a full week because of a cycle. Not eating or drinking, just trying to make it through... You don't have to be okay."
And it was as if you needed his permission, because as soon as the words left his mouth, you tilted your head back, eyebrows scrunching in pain, and let the truth flow past your own lips.
"Yeah, it fucking hurts."
He laughed, but the sound was sympathetic. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss there, and you nearly shot up at the action. You tried not to think too much into it but his lips on your skin was something you couldn't just ignore.
"Is there anything else I can do?"
His voice was soft, gentle, reverent. And he was looking at you like he would do anything you asked. Like you could tell him to go sit in the snow for an hour while you basked in the heat, and he would stand up diligently before marching his way into the blizzard.
He looked at you expectantly, and your heart swelled. One day you would tell him. Tell him how you loved him, how you thought that maybe there was something there between you two, something that tied your souls and hearts together.
"I'm still kind of cold," you admitted. "Could you lay with me?"
At first you thought the question was a bit of a risk, something he might not be comfortable with. But then you thought about how you were completely naked before him not even twenty minutes prior, and you felt less embarrassed to ask.
"Are you sure? There's not much room."
You nodded, and he looked down at his own snow-soaked leathers. He grunted in disapproval and discomfort, reaching down and lifting the tight clothing from his body. You nearly gasped at the action, at the toned body that now faced you. Gods, he was beautiful.
He walked away briefly, presumably to gather his other change of clothes. He might have even cleaned up a bit, because when he appeared again, he looked clean and comfortable. And then he was reaching under the blankets to adjust where you laid.
His body sunk into the cushions of the sofa, and he gathered you into his arms until you were halfway on his chest, his soft and clean shirt overwhelming your senses as you curled into him.
You hummed. "This is nice."
His arms were loose around you, but his hand was resting purposefully curled around your side, his fingers inching over onto your abdomen in a protective and comforting gesture. As if he could take your pain away with just a touch.
"Try to rest. We should be able to get back to Velaris in the morning."
You pushed away the pain radiating through your body, the disorientation and dizziness, and instead focused on the warm muscled body underneath you. The way he encased you, the way he made you feel safe and at peace despite your current state. The way he cared for you.
You would tell him soon -- how you felt.
But for now, you buried your face deeper into his chest, your body falling lax against him. For now, you would rest and savor this moment.
For now, you would pretend like he was doing this because he loved you too. And you held onto that until sleep took your pain away.
2K notes · View notes
call-memissbrightside · 4 months
Text
Continuation of this
Katsuki and your son didn’t return from their camping trip until late Sunday night, but you were waiting.
Thankfully Katsuma fell asleep on the road back, and he made no fuss tucking him away in his bed. Katsuki waited to jump on you when the door to Katsuma’s room clicked shut, then did he take care of you.
It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, and it’s been even longer since you’ve slept with Katsuki. Yet, there was no hesitation or embarrassment when you willinging took off your garments of clothing as you blindly led your ex to your bedroom. Katuski wanted to take in the little details of you, things that he might’ve missed or things that changed since the last time he’s been with you… but laying you out in the bed without any barriers of clothing to hide behind, with the moonlight spilling in just perfectly to cascade every dip and curve of your body, the young man decide to indulge just for once. If I’m lucky, this will happen again, he thought.
As highschool lovers that you once were meant you’d make love, you both were virgins when you got together but now you were older, wiser, and less awkward when touching one another. There was no hesitation, no verbal checks and balances like you’d give when you were sixteen. Now, his eyes asked the questions and your little smile answered each and every one of them. That night, five years after leaving Katsuki to raise your son without him, Katsuki and you fucked like you needed to make up for lost time.
You gained a sixth sense through motherhood, and you were startled awake. Blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you take in the sight of Katsuma, with rumpled blonde hair standing by the foot of your bed. Thankfully, you were covered with your blanket, and he didn’t seem to notice nor care that you were in bed with Katsuki..
“Mommy, I’s sick,” Katsuma whispered, a little hand rubbing at his eye.
You felt Katsuki laying behind you, with an arm secured tightly around your hips as his steady breathing tickled the nape of your neck.
“What’s wrong baby?” You’re mindful of keeping your naked body covered with the blanket as you sit up, trying to not startle Katsuki but he instantly wakes up from your movement.
“What’s wrong buddy?” Katsuki’s voice is heavily laced with sleep, but he takes a deep breath, peeking over your shoulder to look at his son.
“I’m hot.” Katsuma was sweating, perspiration wetting the crown of his head and the hair that grew there. His cheeks were red like apples, and his little eyes held feelings of pain.
The back of your hand automatically touches his forehead, eyebrows furrowed at the intense heat you feel.
“I think you have a fever baby,” You comment, worryness replacing whatever satifaction you felt just moments before. “Go lay back down and I’ll get the thermometer.”
Katsuma wordlessly obeys your command, and you don’t hesitate to spring up and get dressed. Katsuki watches you, you feel his eyes on your back as you slip on some clothes.
“What should I do?” Katsuki catched his shirt you threw at him with ease, putting it on and beginning to dress too. You don’t know how to answer, mind going on overdrive on how to proceed with having a sick child. Katsuma was usually a healthy kid with a minor cold every two years, but to wake up with an intense fever? What could it be? How serious was this? –
“Y/N?” Katsuki felt useless in this situation, he’s never dealt with a sick kid nor did he know what to do for Katsuma in that moment. He needed you to guide him, lead him, shit, tell him what to do because he was clueless. The young man could tell you were worried, it’s the way your face had a stony expression on it that painted a clear picture: something wasn’t right.
“There’s some medicine in the cabinet above the microwave, could you get it?” You asked him, looking through your drawers for the thermometer. Katsuki, thankful for some direction, swiftly went to retrieve the medicine. In the silence of the kitchen, did the seriousness of his actions catched up with Katsuki.
We had sex, Katsuki recounted, we had sex so now what? Are we together? No – he shook his head, finding a child’s ibuprofen – Would she even want to get back together? What about Katsuma?
Heading to the five-year-olds room, Katsuki put aside any lingering questions in his mind. Just like you decided, all those questions and decisions would have to wait – Katsuma needed him.
1K notes · View notes
kitoshii · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
whos ? subbot ! bunny hybrid ! male ! reader x domtop ! wolf hybrid ! male character | pt 2
lovin ? kinda psuedocest , feminization , breeding , degradation & praise , size kink / size difference , small reader , overstim …
your first meeting.. was a weird one. your moms telling you the two of you are going for dinner and of course this is a surprise - eating out is not a normal occurrence in your family, home cooked meals are much preferred, and you’re especially surprised when she says to dress in something nice. yet, you pick out clothes, something form flattering yet dressy, and the two of you are on your way to the restaurant when she proposes an idea, as if its from the top of her head. “why don’t we invite another to join us?”
youre naturally confused, but you don’t disagree, and reaching the restaurant, you’re greeted at your reserved table by two carnivores, huge ones at that, and your normally floppy ears perk up in interest. the younger one is tall, dark, and handsome and you’re swooning before you’ve even introduced yourself.
yet- you’re still confused. you’re not dumb, you can tell this was all previously planned and so as the night progresses a little more, you ask your mom about what’s going on. the oldest carnivore at the table barks out a little laugh, as does your mother, and the two explain that they’ve been seeing each other, and marriage is on the table.
so the tall, dark, and handsome wolf is going to be your tall, dark, and handsome brother. much less exciting than you’d have wished, although you are naturally happy for your mother. the night ends quite quickly, and the four of you say your goodbyes before parting ways.
Tumblr media
your second meeting.. is what he can only describe as insufferable.
he thinks all of this is insanity. he swears under his breath, licking his fangs. his eyes are forced away from you- you, who is crossing your plush legs as you sit on the couch, leaning your weight on the armrest, exposing the side of your neck. a clean, soft surface is all he sees. something on you thats ready to be marked, littered with indents of his teeth and bruises that prove the presence of his lips on your neck- he adjusts himself where he sat, pulling his pants at the thighs to give relief to the problem he finds growing, quite literally, by the second. he’s afraid if he continues staring any longer he might do something he regrets.
he shouldn’t think this way, he knows he shouldn’t, he’s practically just met you, and under the promise of becoming siblings, but it’s not his fault, is it? you’re a pretty bunny boy, soft skin, soft ears, and soft tail on display for him, he’s known he was going to have a hard time since the moment he saw you - and even worse from the moment he smelt you. you’re so defenseless, the shorts that you’re wearing reveal far too much, your fair skin far too tempting, and your innocent eyes far too beautiful. he wants to ruin it all. he want’s to force you to have to put your guard up when he’s around, to rip the shorts off your plush thighs, exposing whats creating the small, compared to his, bulge in them, he wants to mark up your skin until you’re bleeding, nd he wants to strip the innocence from your eyes, forcing you to keep them closed tight as your tears struggle to crawl out.
his breath turns heavier, pants leaving his parted lips as he squeezes his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair - when he’s snapped out of his deep thoughts after your small hand is rested upon his arm and he’s suddenly aware that you’re directly in front of him- but the only thing he can focus on is your silky thighs, the cute bulge in the middle of them, and how much smaller your hand is than his because fuck, he could ruin you so easily it’s driving him insane.
a soft growl escapes from his throat and he notices the way your hand quickly retracts, and he finally tears his gaze away from his eye candy, trailing his eyes up to your face, noticing the way your long, soft ears pin backwards, as if you were a dog. worry is clear in your eyes and he raises an eyebrow, crossing his legs inconspicuously.
“are you feeling alright?” you mumble softly and his mouth opens for a second before its closed again, his fangs catching on his bottom lip. your voice is sweet like honey yet soft like velvet and his ears twitch, moving in obvious attention to you.
he doesn’t answer you, he’s not even sure if he can, choosing to simply nod his head as he stands up, towering over your small frame. he thinks he hears a squeak escape from you and his hard cock twitches in his pants, flitting through every fantasy that involves your mouth.
Tumblr media
your third, fourth and fifth can all be considered normal, but your sixth meeting.. is surprisingly his breaking point.
he prides himself on his restraint. his ability to control his emotions, his urges- but the two of you are at your mothers house, and you are, as usual, far too relaxed, and wearing far too little clothing. he sits on a chair outside in the backyard, the shade a willow tree provides and the gentle wind cooling his face - while his lower half burns in desperation.
you’re none the wiser, innocently indulging in boy-ish behavior as you scavenge green grass for anything that may catch your eye, knees bending the blades underneath you. your back is to him - of course it is, he cant seem to catch a break, he mumbles irritatedly, curling his hands into fists from where they sat on the rests of the chair, his piercing eyes fixated on the curve of your ass, the arch of your back, the squish of your thighs, and the way he can perfectly see a prominent imprint of your balls when you bend far enough forward.
for a few moments he thinks you’re doing this on purpose, that you know of his perverted thoughts and are doing this to maybe punish him, but when your soft ears perk up, and you look back at him with sparkling eyes, a grin on your face to tell him that you’ve found, hell, a cool rock? he knows you wouldn’t do that. you couldn’t do that, you’re too dense to even notice the raging hard on in his pants every time you so much as giggle.
the two of you are inside now, still left alone with each other and you decide to join him where he stood in the kitchen, hungry for something. you open the fridge, leaning down to slide the fruit drawer open, bending at the waist and fuck..
“hm?” you ask, perking up, leaning over to peek at him from behind the fridge door. did he say that aloud?
he scans your face a few minutes before striding over to where you stood. your nose twitches in confusion and despite not being scared, your ears pin themselves back, like a dog. you take a step away from the fridge, beginning to close the door behind you before he’s on you, pressing his arm past your head quickly, closing the fridge door with a bang. you jump slightly, staring at him with big, confused, and worried eyes and his cock fucking jumps because -
“do you know that i.. am a predator?” he mumbles, looking down his nose at you with lidded eyes.
theres a flash of fear in your expression and your mouth gapes slightly. “i know.” you squeak after a beat of silence, trembling hands coming to hold onto your shirt at the chest area
“you know?” he repeats, tilting his head lightly, eyes narrowing as you nod, barely noticeable. “you don’t act like you know.”
a sharp breath escapes you and it takes a minute for you to think of an answer, treading lightly.
“how am i supposed.. to act?”
“..be wary of me. act like at any moment i will pounce on you because fuck, i could.” he growls slightly, moving himself so his forearm is propping him up on the fridge and not his hand - making an already close proximity impossibly closer.
“you could?” you repeat, staring up at him with the same big, innocent eyes but now theres something missing - the worry. the fear. “why haven’t you?” it’s a small mumble, almost a nervous stammer, quiet and hesitant but he heard it. of course he heard it, you’re the only thing he is - and has been focusing on for days.
his heavy breaths pick up, and his stare never falters from your face, slowly scanning your features with calculating movements, immediately catching any change, so when a smile creeps on your lips, a little less innocent than your eyes and in a way, teasing, he catches it. immediately. and he pounces.
Tumblr media
a desperate, muffled cry escapes from your wet lips, his big fingers pressing against your soft tongue, sometimes slipping so far back they’d tease your uvula, making you choke around his digits. his big, thick cock presses against your flush thigh for just a moment, leaving a trail of precum.
his hand that wasnt occupied in keeping you a little quieter is three fingers into your hole, tapping your prostate so hard your body jerks with every press. he’s skilled with his hands, a cocky grin overtaking his face as his ears twitch with every cute sound from your throat and every sloppy sound from your asshole. you’re tight, too tight, he’s not quite sure his dick will fit passed the tip, but he knows you want it, and god knows he wants it too.
the thought of filling you up, of wrecking your small body and moulding you into a cockwhore for him has been infecting his mind like a virus, and he’d be damned if he stopped for anything but a safe word.
a sob fills his ears and suddenly he realizes you’d came a few seconds ago, your legs trembling and kicking up from overstimulation, sensitive dick pressing into the mattress involuntarily before jerking away.
he coos, quite condescendingly, slipping his wet fingers out of your hole, placing a light tap on your balls.
“was it too much for you, bunny?” he asks, pulling you up so your back was flush with his chest, watching as you nod with a dazed look on your tear filled face.
“yeah?” a mischievous grin that you’re unable to see spreads across his lips and wandering hands snake around you, squeezing your pretty thighs, before grasping your hard cock. his breath hitches as his entire hand envelops your small cock and his own twitches, a groan escaping his throat.
“fuck,” he laughs, watching as your hips attempt to pull away from his hand. “so fuckin small compared to me.” he grins, beginning to fist your cock, twisting his wrist around it. your reaction is immediate, a loud wail echoing through the room, your hands reaching out to clasp around his bigger one in a silent plea for mercy.
with reluctance, he gives it to you, letting you fall forward on to the bed. you sniffle, hiccuping softly before pushing yourself to your knees, arching your back as far as you could with your chest to the bed, presenting your ass to him, your fluffy tail wagging in desperation.
his mouth practically waters, hand finding its way down to his dick, closing it around himself before you reach your hands behind, spreading yourself apart to expose your twitching hole. this was you submitting , giving him full control of your body and the situation, and suddenly his instincts were screaming at him to breed you. to rut into you so much that his cum was spilling out, to imprint himself onto you, and to knock you up. to fuck you so full you had to carry his pups.
his stomach coiled and suddenly he couldn’t think, he couldn’t reason. the only thing clear to him was to breed, breed, breed.
he flips you onto your back, using a generous amount of lube, allowing his cockhead to catch onto your hole. you whimper - he’s bigger than his fingers - much thicker, much longer, and much, much hotter. you barely have time to prepare yourself before he’s grabbing your thighs in his hands, the skin spilling over his fingers at how tight his grip is - and suddenly his cock is fucked into you at full force. he bottoms out first thing and even the sound of your voice is delayed, the air being punched from your chest as your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, before a loud shriek does jump through his ears as he begins rutting into you, as if he were a dog in heat.
overtaken with how tight you are around him, and how small you are compared to him, he presses your knees up, bending you in half, watching his big cock sink into your tight hole, and the sight is almost what tips him over.
“fu-huck,” he moans, his pelvis slapping harshly against your thighs with every sharp, deliberate piston of his hips. “takin’ me so well baby, pretty cunts sucking me in so nicely.”
his deep voice riddled with obvious need and want has your ass squeezing around him, your dick twitching as it slaps against your stomach with every rough thrust.
your noises are punched out of you and then cut off with every thrust, the harshness of them making your brain spin and legs convulse. his hold on you does nothing to hide the shaking of your thighs and body, and it makes him groan in satisfaction, a smug smirk overtaking his face.
your drool and tears slide down your chin, pretty, soaked eyelashes batting quickly as you struggle between keeping your eyes open or letting them roll back. his large frame adjusts on top of you, thrusts never faltering despite his red, burning cock growing closer to release. the new angle allows him to hold your legs flush to your chest with his shoulders, while giving room to hold your clawing hands into place and he smirks, before leaning back slightly - and his entire body jerks forward, mouth falling open, fangs baring to pierce harshly into your neck as his eyes roll back because fuck - the bulge in your soft stomach is proof enough that he’s making room in your gut for his huge cock, because you’re just so fucking small.
you kick and cry at his teeth piercing your skin because it hurts, it hurts, but you’re marked and claimed and now he wont stop. teeth covering the expanse of your neck, cock drilling into your prostate with no sign of stopping anytime soon. all you can do is take it like a whore.
“thas’ it.. good girl, my cock was jus’ made for you, isn’t that right, bunny?” he growls and your hard cock spits out something like cum again at just his words because god, his deep voice, the constant stimulation on your prostate and the dirty talk did something to you.
he’s rutting into you so roughly, goin’ so hard nd deep, and you claw at his shoulders, blunt nails doing no real damage, begging him with wails and sobs to hurry up and cum because your tiny cock is so spent nd your tight hole is gonna be gaping afterwards with the effort of fitting such a large cock into you.
for a moment you think this was a bad idea - you think that he wont stop until you’re passed out, his instincts running his brain too wild, but with a thrust up into your stomach and a press down onto his cock bulge from the outside - with help from a desperate wail and a squeal that escaped your mouth - he’s cumming buckets into your soft stomach with a mumbled, “gonna fuckin breed you bunny,” pumping his hot, sticky load into you, filling you so much it’s leakin’ onto the sheets, his knot pressing painfully against your ass hole, threatening a breach as he ruts up feverishly, growls and titters leaving his throat, canines biting into his lip.
Tumblr media
hellooo, im kiyoshi, your writer, nd his is my first fanfiction ! its very self indulgent, nd eng isn’t my first language but if you enjoyed, this is me askin’ you to please reblog nd maybe even follow me to support writers ! we can become great friends ! ^.^
3K notes · View notes