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lovelettersfromluna · 30 days

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Not Strong Enough

Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.

an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍

Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.

Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.

She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.

But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.

Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.

Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.

She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.

She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.

Ellieeeeee

Where are you?

Haven’t seen u in the longest :((

Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.

At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.

Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.

Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.

Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.

As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.

It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.

She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.

And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.

But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.

She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.

You always remind her though.

Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.

She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.

If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.

“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.

Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.

Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.

And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.

Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.

But you knew immediately that this was different.

The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.

So, why did you feel so bad that morning?

You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?

As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.

You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.

Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.

With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.

To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.

You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.

Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.

You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.

Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.

You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.

And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.

It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.

You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.

Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.

Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.

All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.

Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.

“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.

“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.

She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.

You however, have other plans.

You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.

Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.

Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.

You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.

“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.

But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.

Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.

It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.

Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.

She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.

So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.

Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.

“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.

You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.

Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.

She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.

“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.

And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.

Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.

It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.

Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.

“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.

It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.

“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.

“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.

“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.

She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.

“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.

You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.

“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.

You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?

Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.

She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.

“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.

“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.

“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.

You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.

“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.

She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.

“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.

And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.

And you have no choice, but to kiss her.

It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.

It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.

Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.

“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.

You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.

“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.

But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.

And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.

“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.

“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.

Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.

“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.

“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.

Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.

Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.

You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.

You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.

“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.

“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.

Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.

And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.

You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.

It made your head fucking spin.

You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.

“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.

Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.

“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.

“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….

“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.

You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.

Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.

“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.

“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.

“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.

Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.

Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.

You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.

She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.

“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.

“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.

And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.

You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.

“I love you, pretty girl..”

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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onlyswan · 1 month

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summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

1K notes · View notes

imsilay · 8 months

Note

How about König rescuing his obsession from an abusive boyfriend and then claiming her while he watches helpless?

LATIBULE

mdni, cw: abuse, cursing, hair pulling, punching, beating, broken bones? (idk im terrible at tagging :/ )

word count: 0.8k

i’m gonna make pt.2 :) edit: POSTED! here

cr: paldedpul on twt (i’m not sure)

Your cheek burned and you gasped with pain when your boyfriend hit you across the face. “You fucking slut. You’re no good for anything.” he hissed and grabbed a fistful of your hair. He yanked it back and caused so much pain that your mouth fall agape. You tried to reach his hand and push him away from your hair but he didn’t gave you time to reach. Another hand found your throat and he pinned your back against his chest, pulling your hair and squeezing the oxygen out of your lungs. All you could do was squirm and cry. You felt so pathetic, helpless. The man you loved was taking his anger out on you because things didn’t go as he wanted.

At the time you thought everything was over, the door broke open. Your boyfriend’s head snapped towards the door and his grip loosened. Your body fell down and you coughed, gasping for air. Before you could process what was going on, your boyfriend’s body fall next to you with a loud thud. Then someone sat on his stomach and punched him in the face, hard, so hard that you heard his jaw break. The man didn’t stop. He was furious. How could that bastard hit his little one? How could he hurt you while König was afraid to touch your hair? Who did he think he is? The only reason König let him to be with you was the smile on your face when you talked about him. And yet, that bastard was here, hurting his little one. A deadly mistake. Punch after punch, König mercilessly hit your boyfriend’s face without caring about his pleading.

“‘m gonna break your bones until you pass out from the pain. Then i will do it again, again and again. Until there’s no broken bone in your body. Arschloch.” König hissed. Then he grabbed him by the collar and pulled his body up, as if he was a bag of potatoes. K��nig threw him in the chair, his face was covered in blood and he was groaning in pain. “But first…” König forced himself to look at you. His heart ached as he saw your tears. That was the last thing you deserved. He just wanted to snap that stupid boyfriend’s -not anymore, now he was a living dead- neck. “Beg forgiveness from meine Königin.” (My queen.) König grabbed his hair and pulled his head up to face you. Your boyfriend was crying and begging for forgiveness from you for half an hour. Whenever you tried to say it was enough, König pulled his hair harder and forced him to beg with a broken jaw some more. It was just the beginning of the endless pain Konig would cause him.

After he decided it was enough, Konig tied him down to the chair and walked to you. With his hands covered in your ex’s blood and trembling uncontrollably, König fell on his knees and embraced your body tightly, until every centimeter of your body was covered by his massive frame. "Don't cry." he mumbled like it was hurting him physically to see you in pain. "What that arschloch did to you?" He kissed the top of your head and caressed your hair with his trembling hand. He was so afraid to touch you, you barely felt the hand on your hair. "It hurt." you sobbed. As your cries increased, you clung to his body, burying your head into his neck and wetting his t-shirt with your tears - he hugged you tighter. “Meine Königin…” he whimpered like an injured animal. “Don’t cry, bitte. I beg you.” his whole body tensed with the want for your ex’s blood. He wanted to draw blood, to cause pain from beyond that bastard caused you. “‘m gonna kill that bastard.” he mumbled and kissed your hair again. He was using all his willpower not to fall for his anger. “Say something.” he buried his head into your hair and held you tighter. Trying to contain his anger. Hearing you cry was worse than the torment he received in his past. It was worse than the time when they cut a deep wound on his chest or pressed hot iron on his back. He wished for another wound rather than seeing you cry that much.

By the time your sobs stopped he was at the edge of going crazy. “König.” you finally mumbled and his heart skipped a beat. “Ja, meine Königin?” he immediately answered, like if you command him to kill he wouldn’t think twice. Your ex’s pained groans filled your ears as you lifted your head from his neck and looked into his eyes. “How did you know?” you questioned. Because you haven’t told anyone about your abusive boyfriend. "I thought i was going to... " he shushed you by slamming his lips into yours, your head was now inside his mask. He pulled your body into his lap and hungrily kissed your lips. He was gentle though. The sudden want to possess and claim you as his was overwhelming, but he didn’t want to force you for anything after your traumatizing experience. "Let’s get you out of here, meine Königin." he mumbled after the kiss and kissed the bruised skin of your neck.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

also i want to thank y’all for all support on my previous post. it really made my day :’)

#konig x you #könig smut #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x y/n #silay #i know it’s könig

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art · 1 month

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Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer

Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!

Check out our interview with Clara below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?

The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!

Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #chaaistheanswer

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

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Goddess — Cassian x Plus-size!Reader

Summary: Just Cass worshiping his gorgeous, gorgeous mate.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Pretty much pwp. Adult Content, 18+, minors dni. 🫶🏻

You can hear him, scent him, from down the hall.

He approaches your shared bedroom with firm, purposed footsteps. His shoes slam against the wooden floor with every great stride he takes. He’s not graceful like some males are. There’s a raw ruggedness to every movement; the swirling storm of somebody who will never be light nor lithe on their feet. But the charged, almost frantic energy with which he does everything is, undeniably, one of your favourite things about him.

The door bursts open, and Cassian enters.

He’s flushed and sweaty like he always is after training, strands of hair hanging down from where they’ve ripped free from the knot at the nape of his neck. He brushes them back with a large, callused hand, and takes in the sight of you sprawled on your bed, an open book perched on your lap.

He’s always a little wild and frenetic, an animal that can’t be tamed, but this morning — this morning, it seems…extreme. A fire burns in his hazel eyes, and he licks his lips and rolls his shoulders as though there’s too much tension in them.

“How was training?” You ask casually, thumbing through your book.

“Fuck training.” Is all Cassian offers, and then he’s clambering onto the bed and folding his body over yours. “C’mere.”

He dips his head, clearly intent on capturing you in a kiss. But before it can land, your palm is in his face, pushing him away.

“Take your shoes off before you get on the bed, Cass.” You complain. “You’re all sweaty, too.”

A wicked grin tugs his lips up. He kicks his shoes off without sparing them a glance, and then he’s prowling back towards you. “You love it.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is slanting over yours in a deep kiss. His tongue immediately probes your mouth, and a deep groan rumbles in his chest.

“I couldn’t concentrate.” He huffs onto your mouth, hands moving up to your breasts. He gives a gentle squeeze. “I kept thinking about these.”

Immediately, your back arches into the touch. You tug your mouth off of his and cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “I’m not sure that’s part of the regime.”

“No it absolutely is not. But it still didn’t stop me thinking of them. Of everything I had waiting for me back here. This,” he moves down, pressing a kiss to the soft, pudgy flesh of your belly, “Mother above, I love this. And these,” his palms slip under your thighs, “I could spend all fucking day kissing these.”

He loves your thighs — has a real fascination with them. He loves touching them, stroking them, kissing them. Loves slotting himself between them. And fuck, he loves — is obsessed, even — with watching the way they rub together through your breeches while you walk. The way fabric hugs them and outlines their shape. The silvery stretch marks that create patterns in your skin and — rather conveniently — draw a path that snake up right to the creases between your legs. Yeah — he really, really loves those.

“I can’t imagine Azriel was all too impressed with your distraction.” You smile down at your mate, raking your fingers through his hair.

He growls softly, gently nips the flesh of one thigh, exposed beneath the shirt that you shucked on to lounge in — Cassian’s shirt. “I don’t want to hear another male’s name on those pretty lips right now.” He murmurs. “Only mine.”

“Jealous, jealous male.”

“Always.” His fingers are finding their way under the shirt, and he’s tugging it up, exposing more of you as you allow him to peel it from your skin. He chucks it behind him without giving it another thought, and then his eyes are devouring you.

Naked, now, except for your undergarments, Cassian can see everything from your full breasts to your soft tummy to your chubby thighs, and every dip, swell and crevice in between.

It’s taken you a while to make peace with the fact that you do not have the figure of the other females in Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and to realise that that is in no way a bad thing. That having a different body to them doesn’t mean having a lesser body than them. That yours is just as beautiful as theirs are — in a different way.

And having Cassian, the brilliant Illyrian general, worship you from head to toe every. single. day, most certainly helps.

Such heat flares in his gaze, now, as he drinks you in, that it’s almost too much to watch.

“You’re unreal,” he pants, despite no real exertion — yet. “I am so not worthy of you.”

“You’re more than worthy—”

“You’re a goddess. An actual fucking goddess.”

His mouth meets yours again, but it isn’t staying there long. He slots himself between those thighs he loves so much, his fingers biting into the generous flesh as he kisses his way along your jaw and down your neck, over your chest, down to the swells of your breasts. His tongue immediately flicks over one of your nipples, and you sigh at the sensation.

“I’ve never needed anyone or anything like I need you.” His mouth closes over your breast, a harsh suck puckering the flesh. “All,” he moves to the other breast, “the damn,” another suck, “time.”

“Cass,” you breathe, pleasure rolling down your spine. You need…something, anything — him.

“On it, sweetheart.” He says, and his kisses continue downwards.

They pepper your stomach, your hips, your pelvis. And his hands roam your body as they do, grasping at anywhere he can touch. He’s utterly obsessed with you, and he groans and ruts against the bed as he inhales slowly, breathes in your scent.

“You ready for me?” He grazes his teeth against your hip, dipping his fingers just past the waistband of your underwear. “My filthy mate. I can smell how ready you are.”

“Yes,” you sink back into the pillows, “please, Cass.”

“You never have to ask twice.”

He’s yanking your underwear down, and the stronger your scent becomes, the less he’s able to tamp down on those carnal noises that sound almost like animalistic snarls. He kisses one thigh, the other, and then tugs your legs apart with a hiss through his teeth.

“This is what I was thinking about during training.” He eyes your sex hungrily. “Getting between these incredible thighs. I couldn’t stop myself, and everyone knew it.”

“So get between them, General.” You drag a hand down your body, stopping between your legs. Your fingers mop up the wetness gathered there, swirling around your clit. The action dangles in front of Cassian like a toy. “Look how wet I am for you.”

The poor male is damn near salivating, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head. He growls, moving your hand out of the way, and he can no longer stop himself from lowering his head to that sweet, dripping pussy he’s spent all morning fantasising about.

He licks right up the centre of you, tongue diving between your folds. At the first lick, you give over to the pleasure, the moans, pressing your hand to the back of Cassian’s head.

“Taste so good, my girl,” his tongue flicks your clit, “all this for me?”

“All of it, Cass. Always.”

“Yeah? You going to come for me?”

“Yes.” A moan escapes you as you tug at the strands of his hair. “Gods, yes.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your head falls back as he simultaneously sucks at your clit and flicks it with his tongue, and you feel fingers sinking between your folds. The sensations Cassian manages to wring from you never lessen in their impact. There’s something about having this brilliant male kneel between your legs and paint you with stunning pleasure. He calls you a goddess, and he treats you like one.

“Fuck,” you breathe, canting your hips up in time with the strokes of his tongue. “Cass…I want you inside me.”

“I want you to come for me first.” Without warning, he pushes a finger into you, and you moan. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Gods—yes,” you’re rocking against his hand, gasping as he adds a second finger. His lips smile against you.

“Go ahead — fuck my fingers and take what you need. Come for me, my girl.”

The two of you work together, him thrusting his fingers and continuing the strokes at your clit, and you taking it all so, so well. And you can tell he loves every moment of your pleasure — the way it builds up in your bones, your veins, and readies itself to implode.

And then your mate curls his fingers deep inside you, and it does exactly that. Release bursts through you at an unstoppable force. The impact of it surges to every corner of your body and has you shaking, gasping, screaming.

Cassian moans as if the climax is his own. He drinks and drinks and drinks, not letting a drop of you go to waste. He takes the clenching of your walls around his fingers and the harsh tugs of his hair. Takes it all, happily.

You’re not sure how long your head is spinning for, but you’re eventually coming down, just in time to see Cassian press a kiss to your belly. You tug his hair again and breathe, “Want you, Cass.”

“My beautiful,” he kisses your belly again, “beautiful mate.” As he pulls back, his hands drag down your thighs. “My goddess.”

He jumps up from the bed, and never have you seen him rid himself of clothes so quickly. Clothed, Cassian is stunning. Naked, he’s breathtaking.

Your eyes study him in utter awe, and you wonder — not for the first time — what you did so right in a previous life to have Cassian as your mate in this one. Every inch of him is firm and honed. Tan skin nicked with scars; bold, beautiful wings; rippling muscles and sharp edges. And his cock—

His cock has you swallowing.

It stands to attention, hard and proud and leaking at the head. Cassian wraps his hand around it and pumps a few times, his eyes still intensely on you. He grits his teeth.

“When you look at me like that,” he says, “you make me feel like a god.”

“You are.” Your chest rises and falls heavily. And you mean it — to you, he is. A god and goddess together.

Stark heat crosses his face, and he jerks his chin in signal. “Come here. I want you on top.”

He’s told you time and time again that having you on top of him is like having his prayers answered. Feeling you rocking on him, riding him, your thighs at his sides…a feeling like nothing else in the world. And you’re more than happy to oblige.

So you’re swapping positions. He’s sprawling back on the bed, wings beneath him, and you hover above him. You’re eager to feel him inside you, but you stop short at the weighty gaze that follows your every move.

You do not balk from it, though. This confidence is a stark difference from the early days of yours and Cassian’s sex life, when you’d do everything to avoid him staring at you for too long, when you’d insist on fucking in the dark. Cassian watches you approach like you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to have. He looks…lost for words.

You reach down, cupping his face between your palms. “You’ll give me an ego.”

“You should have an ego.” He turns his head, kissing your hand. “Fuck me, you’re exquisite.”

With a smile, you’re dipping down and slanting your mouth over his. And as Cassian kisses you back, he takes your hands, gently, slowly pulling you down, until you’re straddling him.

“Did you think about this during training, too?” Your voice shakes as the head of his cock brushes your entrance. “Being inside me? Having me ride you?”

Cassian kisses you so deeply, it leaves you breathless. A loud, wet kiss with his lips moulded to yours, his tongue and your tongue dancing. He pulls away only to tell you, “I think about being inside you, and having you ride me, all the fucking time.”

You smile, reaching behind you to palm at his cock. And a soft groan breaks from him as you pump his length gently. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, moving his hand down to grab your thighs.

“Put me inside you,” he shudders, his callused thumbs sweeping your skin. “Need to feel your cunt around me.”

You can’t wait any longer, either. You steady his cock at the base, and the second it’s brushing through your soaked folds, you’re both moaning.

And even louder, still, as you sink so, so slowly onto him.

The more his cock slides into you, the harder Cassian grips onto your thighs. He grits his teeth, watching closely as you pause, allow yourself to adjust to his size, and sink down to the hilt.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His hands smooth upwards, skating over your hips and round to grab at your generous ass. He squeezes, and then he’s lifting you, and you’re moving on his cock.

You could do this forever — have his long, thick length sliding in and out of you. In seconds, you’re slick enough, drenching him enough, to bounce on his length. You roll your hips, bracing your hands on the headboard and throwing your head back at the pleasure that skitters through you. Cassian leans down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

“So full,” you whine, grinding against him faster.

“Yeah?” He breathes. “My cock fills you up nice and good, doesn’t it? I know exactly what this pretty cunt needs.” He lifts you up by your ass, growling, “You want it hard, my goddess?”

“Fuck, Cass, yes.”

“You gonna scream for me? Make sure those lot training on the roof know that I rushed away to fuck my mate like she needed me to?”

“Yes—gods.”

“Scream for me, then.” He grips you hard, and he gives you no choice but to scream.

He slams up into you, again and again, the angle so desperate and deep that your control utterly slips. You can’t pull it back. You can’t grab the upper hand and pin him down to ride him — and you don’t want to. Not as he hits a spot so deep inside you that another climax knocks the breath out of you, and you’re screaming, moaning, clawing.

A deep, smug chuckle breaks through the haze of your orgasm, but Cassian doesn’t falter once. His brow furrows more and more with every thrust. He’s holding you closer to him, burying his face into your neck, and you know he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses, bracing himself, “how do you feel better and better every damn time?”

“Because I’m yours,” you pant, and Cass chokes on a groan, “and you are mine.”

“Always.” His mouth finds yours in a deep, unforgiving kiss, and he doesn’t pull away as his body begins to tremble beneath you, his thrusts faltering and becoming sloppy.

He slumps down, lying your body flush against his, and just like that, he’s on the home stretch.

“Give it to me, Cass,” you watch the pinched pleasure on his face, “I want you to spill inside me.”

Your mate throws his head back, a shout escaping him. His hips still as you feel the explosion of his orgasm deep inside you, painting your walls with his come. Spurt after spurt, it feels never ending, and Cassian groans gutturally through it all. He well and truly fills you up.

He stays inside you for a while after — while you catch your breaths. But when you’ve both calmed a little, he’s pulling back to meet your gaze, and a dazed laugh leaves him. “Fuck, that was good.” He breathes.

“Mmhm.” You smirk, leaning in to kiss him. “Better than your fantasising?”

“My fantasies can be pretty elaborate, but even this brain couldn’t conjure up anything as brilliant as you.” He kisses you back, his hand gently patting your ass. “My delicious little mate.”

You can only smile against his lips. And you’d be content to stay here all day, wrapped up in him, his mouth on yours. But you grin and snake your arms around his neck. “Cass?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You really need a bath.”

He jumps up without a word, your combined wetness spilling down those thighs he loves so much, as he carries you with him to the bathroom.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

cassian tags: @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @nightscourtt @luna-1-3-5 @ruler-of-hades @chocolatecakelargeshake @asemkta @lucyysthings @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iammichellekocwin @illyriansimp @azrielsbabyg @brookeduggann @toohardtoforgetcth @gmey11 @historianscalledusfriends @basicbittywitty @koemi-kimo @sadiebluewin @angelatinasstuff @eos-princess @theunforgivingsworld @lysjeonsworld @aaronwarnerswifereal @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @str4vvberry @lxnoluvr @moron-says-what @korol-lantsov @evabalexeeva @imaginethat16 @aoibhinnslater04 @kennedy-brooke @magnoliamermaid @winchestersister55 @carrxttcake @shannonsaid @ladylunavoodoo13 @glitterforashes @misslunatic1655 @basicbittywitty @bbycowboi @mel-wcst @amieinghigh @acourtofidiots @scooobies @grunchwench @glitterypirateduck @wallacewillow0773638 @jjlevin @siriuslyslyslytherin @supernatural99 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @loglady00 @bbycowboi @tastydewdrops @waywardcasbutt @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thereadefofsmut @padfootsvixen @donnadiddadog

#cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #batboy x reader #batboy #cassian fic #cassian oneshot #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar fandom #acotar writing #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar series #smut #cassian smut #cassian x reader fic

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kemistre · 10 months

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εïз┊𝟏:𝟒𝟕 𝐀.𝐌. — feat. mammon

synopsis. he couldn't help but be concerned when he couldn't find you at 1:47AM

— content warnings. oh just mammon being completely head over heels for you and panicking just a lil bit, gn!reader, they/them pronouns — word count. 1, 478

εïз┊author's note. hehe i know i haven't posted in a few days so here's this <3 i want to write over the weekend but i'm not sure how realistic that is <//3 also i don't play this game anymore but that doesn't mean i don't love all the demon brothers any differently 🤭

a yawn fell from his lips as he made his way down the hall to your room. his older brother, lucifer, had kept him up studying for as long as he could. it was evident from the dark bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders drooped as he walked.

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for mammon to check up on you in your room if he wasn’t in there for the night. he’d been doing it every since you stopped sharing a room with beelzebub. it was just a part of his nightly routine at this point.

another yawn came from his lips as he raised his hand to his mouth, his eyes shutting for just a moment before opening up again as he stood in front of your door. a human living with demons, a demon falling for a human. that was something he never thought would happen to the likes of him.

he sighed, grabbing the door handle and twisting it slowly, hoping not to wake you up from the creaking of the hinges. the light from the hallway peaked into your room as he opened the door more.

he rubbed his eye with his free hand as he stepped into the room to get a better look at your bed. every night you were always wrapped up in your covers with the cutest sleepy look on your face, it was something that always made him smile more than he’d like to admit.

so, when he didn’t see that precious expression of yours asleep in your bed, he panicked. his eyes widened as he swung the door open, even more light shining into your dark bedroom. he swore he looked in every corner, under everything, over everything, and you weren’t there.

he stood outside your room, looking back and forth before making a b-line to leviathan's room, his younger, anime obsessed, shut in of a brother. he banged on the door. “levi! LeVi y/n’s missing! they’re gone, they just vanished into thin air LEVI!”

before he could bang on the door again, it opened, showing a very annoyed looking levi on the other side. “you made me drop ruri-chan, you scum.”

“ruvi whoever doesn’t matter, y/n-”

“ruri-chan does matter.”

“oh screw this,” his eye twitched as he threw his hands in the air, regretting his choice to find this brother first. “i’m done with ya, i’ll find them myself!”

levi stood in the doorway, his annoyed glare turned into one of confusion. “find who?”

“y/n-”

“y/n’s missing?”

“...” mammon bit his tongue, slowly turning back to his brother with a smirk on his face, he had thought of the perfect plan. make levi jealous. “nope, cuz i’m gonna find them without ya and then i’ll be the hero, not you!”

“hero..?” his eyebrows raised, a grin soon finding his lips. “that’s me! the hero, i am!” his eyes filled with pride as he placed his hands on his hips, his “hero stance” as he calls it.

“weirdo..” the word fell from his lips. getting levi to play along was always easy as long as you make him think he’s some sort of hero.

while mammon was thinking of where you could be, he suddenly felt a tug on his wrist. “every hero needs a trusted steed!” and he was dragged through the halls by levi who was really off in his own world.

before he knew it, he was standing in beelzebub’s room while levi poked him until he was awake saying he was just the right steed he’d been looking for.

“y/n’s missing?” beelzebub spoke, his voice low and raspy since that was the first thing he said after bein woken up. “are they in the kitchen? that’s where i’d wanna be right about now.” he yawned as he stood up, following his older brothers down the halls.

levi was way too happy to make a plan to find you, but in the end, mammon just let him do whatever because at least he was helping. the three of them split up, texting each other with their findings. nothing, absolutely nothing.

“where are ya..?” mammon whispered to himself, his brows furrowing as he made his way down the stairs and to the front entrance. a sigh fell from his lips as he casually glanced around the area, not seeing anything that stuck out.

until he took the shortest glance out of the window, his eyes widened as a smile graced his lips at the sight of you sitting on a small hill outside the house. he practically trips over his feet running out of the door and to you.

which, unknown to mammon, one of his younger brothers had seen. he smiled at just how obvious it was that mammon loved you. “how cute~”

as he gets closer to you, he stops running, trying to play it off like he was casually walking towards you. “human, why are ya out here so late? i was worried about y-” he coughed, shaking his head slightly. “beel was so worried about ya he shook me awake, i thought he was gonna eat my arm.”

when you didn’t respond, he poked your head. “hey, i was talkin’ to ya.” a pout formed on his lips as he took a seat next to you on the grass, just a bit closer than he’d meant to.

his eyes scanned over you. you were in your pajamas, but out here in the cold looking up at the sky.

“whaddya lookin’ at? there’s nothin’ up there.” his eyes moved from you, to the nighttime sky he’d been looking at for centuries.

you smiled, your voice hoarse. “in the human world there is,” his lips parted slightly as he looked back at you once more. “have you ever seen stars?”

of course he hadn’t seen stars. he’d never been to the human world at night before, but he couldn’t let you know that. “pfft-” he waved his hand dismissively, a smirk on his lips. “yeah of course i’ve seen stars- duh.”

you giggled, making his eyes widen as the tips of his ears turned a deep shade of red. “they were always so fun to look up at, it was peaceful trying to find the brightest one or seen shotting stars. so, i’m just reminiscing, that’s all.”

“well you should go back to bed,” he changed the subject, in truth, he didn’t want you to see him so blushy and such a mushy mess for you. “it’s dangerous out here by yourself, a demon could eat you y’know?”

there was a moment of silence, where neither of you spoke. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, no, it was comforting. “out of everyone, i’m glad you’re the one that found me, mammon.” the cheery smile he’d come to know and love graced your lips as you looked his way.

he was too stunned to speak, where usually he’d have a snarky comment denying any feelings he might of felt from your words, he had nothing this time. blush covered his cheeks as his eyes grew wide. the proximity of you two didn’t help his situation either. you were so close.

your hand found his on the grass, smoothing over his as you leaned closer to him. your lips getting almost dangerously close to his. his mind raced. was this a joke? it had to have been a joke. there’s no way you’d feel the same way right? a human and a demon was not a good combo, right?

his heart beat was ecstatic as his free hand slowly found its way to your cheek, cupping your face in the most gentle way. there was hesitation on his part, but could you blame him? he’d been holding back for so long. ever since he might you, he’d been holding back his greedy self for your sake. for the first time in his life, he held back his greed for something, for someone, just for you. “y/n..”

your lips barely brushed against each other, before you both heard a whine from behind you. “y/nnnnn-chan~” and suddenly, mammon felt a hard hit on his head, being thrown to the side like scum. “you don’t get to hog all of y/n-chan’s time like that!” asmodeus, the fifth oldest of the demon brothers whined. “what if i wanted to have a moment with my lovely y/n-chan?” he hugged you tight, pressing his cheek against yours before he started leading you inside, occasionally sending victory glares back at mammon who was still sitting in the dirt.

mammon sat there, a frown on his lips as they began to quiver. his fist hit the ground, then another, and then another like a child throwing a small tantrum. “dammit asmo...” he held a finger up to his lips. “we were so close...”

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bensolosbluesaber · 10 months

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Nowhere to Run: Part 2 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Read Part 1 Here

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Miguel helps reader through a panic attack (descriptions based on my own experiences but not necessarily perfectly written down), mentions of isolation and isolation-related trauma, references to child loss, scars

Summary: Living in Nueva York and working with the Spider Society is pretty great... except for Miguel O’Hara, the man who injured you, saved your life, and now refuses to speak to you. Luckily, Peter B. Parker loves interfering in Miguel’s life, so when you’re at your lowest, it’s Miguel who is there to help you through it. ~ 2,200 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

A/N: This is still dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok as well as the people leaving the comments. There are light spoilers for AtSV (I made up an ending for BtSV since this is set after that).

Two Months Later…

Miguel O’Hara kept his promise. His Spider Society ran all kinds of tests, searching for an explanation for the rapid evolution that provided your the ability to travel the multiverse. Best they could guess, you had been close to the epicenter of your world’s implosion, close enough to absorb some of the energy leaking from what was essentially a black hole devouring the universe.

Another Spider-Woman had given you a more advanced goober - no, gizmo - to keep you from glitching and destabilizing the place they called Nueva York. It was Miguel’s home, she’d explained, and the home base of the Spider Society that kept watch over the multiverse. You’d started volunteering for missions with them, happy to be doing some good. It made you feel like a hero again, like there was a point to all the sacrifices that led you here.

But you hadn't seen Spider-Man 2099 since he dropped you off at a Nueva York hospital and huffed an order to “make sure she gets stitched up, and for god’s sake, get her some food.” That was two months ago.

“I can’t believe you bring a kid here.” You waved to Mayday who was sitting on her dad’s lap and trying to steal his food with her webs. For some reason, Peter had given her a web-shooter… as if toddlers weren’t difficult enough.

“Neither can I, honestly. But she loves these guys. Especially Miguel.” He frowned and took a bite of empanada. “She’s borderline obsessed with Miguel actually. I think it’s because he has such climbable shoulders. It’s good for him to see her too.”

“Meaning?”

“Ah nothing.” Peter waved off your question.

An awkward pause filled the space between you and Peter B. Parker. Just ask him, you told yourself.

“Is Miguel avoiding me?” Blunt. Right to the point.

“Ummmmm…” He drug out the word for far too long, looked to his daughter for help, seemed to remember she couldn’t do more than babble random sounds, and then sighed heavily. “Yes. He feels bad about…” Peter gestured broadly to you. “About a year ago we had a little situation with this kid - I mentored him. Good kid. Smart,” Peter added proudly. “This kid, Miles, made Miguel rethink a lot of things. We started handling anomalies... differently, a bit more gently.”

“He calls this gently?” You touched your scarred shoulder.

“Ummmmm… no.” Peter scooped Mayday out of the air where she was now dangling from the ceiling. “You freaked him out pretty bad. I mean you are a huge anomaly. Dangerous. He sort of, uh, how would those kids say it? Oh, yeah, he ‘went off the deep end.’ You should hear him tell the story.”

Mayday babbled incoherently.

“Yes ma’am, it does all seem a bit romantic when he tells it doesn’t it?” Peter cooed to Mayday then grinned at you.

You blinked once. Twice. Romantic?

Mayday went zipping away. Peter stood and sighed.

“Gotta get this kid, but I’m sending him to see you.” He took off after his daughter who was expertly navigating a minefield of other Spider-People (and animals). “Promise!” Peter tossed over his shoulder.

You seriously doubted Peter B. Parker would be able to convince Miguel to talk to you. And that was just as well because by the time you made it back to your room, it was turning into one of your bad nights. It was illogical. How could you could be fine for and suddenly a panic-stricken nightmare-ridden mess one random night? But then, the human mind is an enigma even to itself, the traumatized mind even more so.

It happened when you walked into your room and found yourself suspended in complete darkness. You followed the same routine every night, but today was different. Blackness surrounded you and closed in. You could see nothing, not even the hand in front of your face, and something tightened in your chest, clamped down on your lungs. For a second, you had control of the thing, were reaching for the light switch. Then you were spiraling.

Your mind was no longer in your safe room in Nueva York surrounded by the Spider Society who had taken you in and protected you and even become your friends. No. It was trapped in the silent and endless darkness of a collapsed universe, utterly alone, smothered in deafening silence. Your breath came in rapid, shallow pants, and you stumbled back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You sat down on the soft mattress, drew up your knees, wrapped your arms around yourself, bowed your head, and tried to breath through it.

Caught in your panic attack, you didn’t even hear two familiar voices arguing, or see the light from the hallway fall across the room as the door was pushed open, or notice the shadows that loomed in the doorway.

“I know what you’re doing, Peter,” Miguel snarled.

“I’m not doing- why’s the door open?”

Miguel noticed you first. The dim room was the perfect environment for his sensitive eyes to make out your hunched form and trembling shoulders. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you, an act that confirmed every one of Peter B. Parker’s suspicions. He watched for a moment from the doorway before taking a step back and closing the door with a click. Miguel had this under control. He was sure of it.

A deep voice, gravelly as if it were being drug over stones whispered your name. It wrapped around you, held you tight, and pulled you above the thrashing waves. That crushing feeling in your chest relaxed ever so slightly, and finally, you managed a deep breath. Then a second. It’s okay now. The worst is over.

After the third breath, you looked up and searched the dark room in a search of the voice’s owner.

Two dimly glowing red orbs shone in the darkness. You knew exactly one person with red eyes. Slowly, your own eyes adjusted, and the broad outline of Miguel O’Hara materialized. He wasn’t wearing his usual vibrant suit, just a dark colored sweater. Even kneeling on the ground he was still tall enough to be eye level with you. The two of you stared at each other for a long second before Miguel slowly raised a hand and... and brushed his thumb across your cheek?

What was happening? All you could do was blink stupidly at him, but when you didn't shy away he brought his other hand to your face. He smoothed his thumbs over your cheeks. He was wiping away your tears so gently and with such concern it seemed impossible. His hands were soft, softer than they had any right to be, and those dangerous claws that had done so much damage to you earlier were nowhere to be seen.

“You’re safe. You’re here with me.” Miguel’s voice was so commanding; he was obviously accustomed to giving order, but that actually made it more reassuring. “I’m here.”

I’m here. For some unexplainable reason those words reassured you more than anything. You didn't even think, just did. You slid forward on the bed and buried your face in the broad muscles of Miguel’s shoulder. His sweater was as soft as anything you could have imagined, and his warmth seeped through the fabric. He smelled like fresh laundry and something more woody and musky.

Miguel haltingly wrapped his arms around you, awkward at first, before he pulled you in closer. He held you like that for several long minutes, running his hands across your back and drawing small circles with fingers until your breathing synced with his.

Since coming to this place, the most physical contact you had with anyone was the occasional hug or handshake or Mayday crawling up your arm. Before that it was Miguel holding you in the rain while he sucked his venom - you had confirmed that it was venom - from your body. Before that you had been trapped in a collapsed universe or on the run. Before that... well, being Spider-Woman was a lonely job.

To be held like this was the most comforting experience you had in longer than you cared to remember. You didn’t want to let go. Even when you realized that in this position Miguel was kneeling between your legs you didn’t let go.

Eventually, he shifted with a quiet huff. You pulled back immediately. What were you doing? Miguel definitely didn’t want you all over him. What could you have possibly been thinking, using the man who actively avoided you for comfort?

Miguel stood and stretched. You looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

“Thank you. I’m okay now,” you muttered.

That was an obvious lie. The man tilted his head as he gazed down at you. He knew what this loneliness was like, how it felt to have wallowed in solitude for so long that you forget how to feel anything but alone. His eyes shifted to your shoulder where a tank top did nothing to hide the four long scars he had left in your skin. You tracked his gaze and immediately tried to cover them with your hand.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hinting that he could go even though part of you - an insane, irrational, needy part of you - wanted him to stay.

Miguel ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair with a sigh before sitting down, uninvited, on your bed. Next to you. He sat down next to you. On your bed.

Miguel O’Hara was handsome. You never denied that, especially now while he was inches from you smelling the way he smelled and radiating much needed warmth. The temptation to lean into him was strong, but not strong enough to override your embarrassment that he, of all the Spider-People, had seen you at your lowest point.

“I thought you were jumping through the Arach- the Spider-Verse with bad intentions. I had no idea you were running… from me.” The explanation came out of nowhere. Miguel turned to look down at you. “You had the potential to cause a lot of damage, and I panicked. I forgot you’re one of us, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Another long pause. “My claws have never poisoned anyone before.”

The apology was genuine, you could hear it in his voice. Some invisible barrier between the two of you shattered then.

“Are you saying you didn’t mean to kill me with your venomous talons, you only meant to seriously maim me with your regular talons?” You could feel a smile growing as you tried joking with him.

Miguel looked back at the bed spread. Should you? Was this a good idea? You threw caution to the wind and leaned over to bump your shoulder against Miguel’s.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes. Glad I was threatening enough to scare you like that.”

“That’s not what- okay.”

“You can look at them. If you want, I mean.” You nodded to your scarred shoulder.

Slowly, as if afraid to scare you off, Miguel smoothed a finger over the scars. They were deep and jagged, but had healed rather well all things considered. His hand on your neck startled you for a moment before you realized what he was doing. Four tiny scars from his fangs still decorated your skin, and he was tracing his thumb over each one.

Miguel felt you swallow, realized what he was doing, and then froze. A single second stretched into an eternity during which you could confront every thought racing through your head. He’d chased you for months, but he had a good reason. He’d hurt you. Then he saved your life. There was that thing Peter said about Mayday being good for him. And Miguel’s sad eyes and ever-present frown. And how warm he’d felt while he held you. And the ripples of muscle across his entire body.

He’d kept his promise not to send you back. And he was handsome. Handsome and sad. So instead of pulling away and kicking him out and going back to avoiding each other, you leaned into him.

There was nothing awkward about Miguel’s movements this time. He wrapped an arm around you and maneuver you both until you were laying down, curled up against his side, head on his shoulder, his arm around your waist.

“What is going on?” You whispered.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Miguel whispered back.

“Okay, but why?”

“Because... because I know how it feels to lose everyone and have no one to hold you.”

You looked up at him then. He was staring at the ceiling, some memory you couldn’t see dancing across his eyes. Peter said Mayday was good for Miguel then refused to answer any more questions. The frown lines. How ferociously he protected the multiverse. Mayday was good for Miguel. Mayday. The kid.

It hit you then, and it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Miguel had lost his family, probably in circumstances not too different from your own. You wanted to know everything about the Spider-Man with the fangs and venom and the saddest eyes you had ever seen. Not now though.

Already, you felt sleep tugging at the edge of your consciousness, a sense of safety and comfort brought on by Miguel’s presence.

“You could stay until I wake up,” you offered drowsily and splayed a hand across his chest. “If you want.”

Miguel ran his fingers lightly over the back of your hand.

“I think I might.”

A/N: There is a teeny tiny potential for an 18+ Part 3. No solid plan yet, but possible. Thanks for all the love on this fic!

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theemporium · 7 months

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🐈‍⬛ lestappen werewolves where sometimes the animal instinct takes over and they feel the need to provide for you…like bringing a bunny to the back porch

basically we need to see them in wolf form being adorable

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“Is that…is that a bunny?”

Your eyes widened from you spot in the kitchen as you quickly grabbed the drinks from the fridge before rushing back out to the living room where Alex was currently standing. He was by the window, staring wide-eyed and shocked at the dead bunny lying on the small porch that led outside to your garden.

“Uh yeah,” you said as you handed him his drink, trying to stay as calm and casual as you could. “Poor guy must’ve had a bad run in with a fox.”

Alex frowned sadly. “Poor guy indeed. Are you gonna…dispose of him?”

“Are you asking me what I’m gonna do with the dead bunny on my porch?” You deadpanned, watching as the Brit grew sheepish.

“Well you haven’t moved it yet so,” he trailed off before shrugging his shoulders. His expression became a lot more teasing as he grinned at you. “Why do you not get one of your little boy toys to move it?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “They aren’t here right now, they are—”

Alex frowned at the way you quickly cut yourself off. “They are what?”

“Camping,” you said suddenly, frowning a little at your own excuse but you had already dug your grave, you may as well lie in it. “They, uh, wanted to get outdoors for a few days.”

“And you didn’t go with?” Alex asked.

“Pfft,” you let out a small laugh. “Nah, I don’t do the outdoors. That’s their thing.”

And that much was true, so very true in a way that you could never disclose to your best friend or anyone else for that matter. Your relationship with Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc was already constantly under question and scrutiny, the last thing they needed was another thing to obsess over.

And you knew they would love to find out you were practically dating two massive puppies.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you said with a sigh as you stood on the porch, a blanket tightly drawn around your shoulders to battle the evening chill as you watched the two wolves pad towards the house. “I can’t keep explaining the dead bunnies.”

Max approached you first, slightly larger than the two of them with light brown fur and narrow eyes that reminded you of a predator. Charles had darker fur, slightly leaner and smaller of the two.

The lighter wolf padded forward, dropping the small animal at your feet before looking up at you expectantly.

You huff out a small laugh, shaking your head. “I appreciate it, baby, but I don’t know how many more I can handle burying.”

The darker wolf let out a whimper, his head tilted to the side. It took everything in you to not roll your eyes as you leaned over, softly scratching behind his ears as he nosed at your legs.

It was rare for them to get like this, to crave their animal form. But it happened. Not very often, and honestly you hadn’t even seen it many times in the time you had been dating. It was just these deep, primal urges that made them crave the wolf side of themselves, that made them parade around the woods behind your house for days in their animal form until they were ready to come back home.

But even in these moods, your boys had an overpowering sense of caring for you. And unfortunately in wolf form, that meant hunting innocent bunnies as a small present (and probably dinner) in their eyes.

“I forget how cute you two are like this,” you murmured as you sat on the steps of the porch, both wolves curling up by your feet as they preened and flourished under your attention. “My lil’ puppies, hm?”

Max lifted his head up to glare.

“Oh hush, you’re the biggest puppy,” you smiled as you leaned down to softly pat his head. A smile that widened when he whined after you pulled away.

“But I seriously mean it, no more bunnies or you’re both staying in the dog house.”

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samodivaa · 6 months

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┊Knife Practice┊

Bucky Barnes x Reader Such a tease you are, poking his mind with a cold metal rod—he can't concentrate when you play dirty.

Warnings - knife kink, smut, oral (m), p in v, slight choking Words - 1400 ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ Getting involved—on a physical level, during training—was a colossal blunder—he tried to observe the patterns of his mistakes to see if they were products of some kind of weakness—it’s you, teasing him is his greatest weakness. There is raggedness of his breaths due to fighting you, due to the knife you are pressing at his crotch. Bucky is in a sitting position and his hands are planted firmly behind him trying to support his weight, trembling—as your legs dig into his thighs—you are greatly excited to toy with him, though you look resolute. “I shouldn't have expected less of you than to play dirty, should I?” Reluctantly you lift your eyes to his, pressing the dull side of the knife more.

“Damn it” his voice sounds as though he wants to moan, but is doing his utmost to control it. “What is wrong, darling?” you ask before laughing, seeing Bucky’s flushing crimson. There is no way he can reclaim his dominance now—not that he wants to. You lean in, but Bucky doesn't pull back, and you take that as a sign of acquiescence for licking his neck, pleasure zingers across his skin and he shamelessly turns his neck to give your mouth better access. The knife outlines his cock with light pressure, rubbing the fabric to the head and you smile against his skin in delight at the dampness starting to rise to the gray fabric. You pull back and slowly cut through his pants—the sound of ripping is sinful, a soft invitation to madness, generally a tipping point into insanity. “Fuck,” he moans, staring down “Enough” “If you don’t like it, why are you hard?” Your fingers ghost over the marks covering his neck, his eyes locked on yours wide and wild, nostrils flaring. He stares at you, completely stricken, all he can do is whine softly, defeated and utterly annihilated by your words. You touching him fills him with amazement, purely animal, you let your body act before your mind.

You throw the knife to the side, hands freeing his rigid member, slick and sticky drips of pre-cum covering the tip. He doesn't look at you, instead choosing to focus on the knife for a moment, wishing that you use it more, but you pull him on shore of a new and better sanity when you put his member into your mouth, hands grip his thighs harshly, a moan escapes his chest. Cool, metal fingers brush your sweaty hair aside and tuck the strands behind your ear before carding fingers through your hair. You don’t stop; there is no delay when the length hits the back of your throat, your gag reflex non-existent. The taste of him leaves you burning as your lips glide along his cock faster, throat muscles clamping around the tip of his dick—he is powerfully conscious that you are not in any predicament. “God, yes” He hisses out, voice a crackling mess of plea and need, heat beginning to thrum beneath his skin as he feels himself getting closer, exerting a bit of force on your scalp with slight tugs on your hair. Dominance. Control. These things are the roots of Bucky’s character. And it is your duty to defy his dominance and to challenge his control. What a languid woman, a force of gravity by which you irresistibly attract his submission sometimes—fuel a new side to him. You are lovely, vaguely threatening—the obsession with knives is something that you carry from the dreadful past. He lets out another strangled noise, hips trying to jerk into your hold, but you keep them steady to the ground. “Please” he moans, low and drawn out, voice already wavering with frustration “I’m so close, snezinka” choking the words out. Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour. The pleasure stops and when Bucky opens his eyes, you are already looking at him at eye level, blue-less eyes—because they are full of lust—burning just as much as yours. Your gaze is so intense that he wants to look away—or never look away, he can’t decide. “Please?” you breathe after a few seconds of stunned silence. He suddenly cups your face in his hands—a kiss is a lovely trick designed to stop speech when words become unnecessary—the kiss starts softly then slowly builds in intensity, his mouth lingering on yours, teeth grazing your lower lip, making you shiver. His hands move from your cheeks to your shoulders and then down to trail across the expanse of your back before pulling back to look at you. Bucky’s eyes undress his unrevealable needs “Ride me” Your eyes narrow slightly as you process the words. Such divine orbs—not just one shade of color, but... many, with a hint of mischief glimmering. Then something unexpected happens. You suddenly get up, fumbling your way out of your pants and underwear. You shuffle up over him, knees spread around his thighs, and you slowly lower yourself to sit on him, shifting your hips back and forth until the firm length of his cock settles just so in the cleft of your pussy. You let out a needy whine, hands making a home out of the crook of his neck—holding your breath, savoring the sensation of every time you grind against his cock. “Oh, come on, fuck” he moves his hands to your hips, squishing slightly, urging you forward, guiding you up and down his length. As his breaths become labored, there is a in a crack in his persona— “Please, just-fuck me” His voice is a near-moan, and bearing witness to his desperation is all you want.

You gulp, voice breathier than you like as you whisper “Okay” folds flutter as you’re parted by his length, making the cutest mewls as you ease his cock into your cunt, slowly.

His arms encase themselves around your waist, pulling you downwards, burying himself to the hilt. You let out a pleasured cry as he sinks into you, his name slipping from your mouth so fondly, so tenderly that he has to stop your mouth with a kiss as you twine your arms around his shoulders.

You need to regain some control—that’s why you set an unrelenting pace.

And all Bucky can do is leer at your tits as they bounce with every thrust. He squirms with every uneven thrust, your breath growing erratic and his groans growing louder.

Eye contact. There is more in the eyes. More longing. The naughtiness emanates from your eyes—you look at him like you own him. He can feel he is nearing his climax but closes his eyes, trying to restrain himself.

„James“

His name comes on a long-winded breath. To his horror, his body responds in obvious pleasure, his entire body shuddering in spite of his mental denial—having the faintest clue how you do it, and he feels your month against the skin of his throat, licking, sucking, and kissing not holding back your throaty moans.

“Come with me, baby” you whisper softly against the shell of his ear, nibbling at the earlobe.

„I-I will-…soon…“ he groans the words out, only adding to the erotic undertone of his words.

Heat shots through his spine. His muscles clenching as you move up and down his length, your velvety walls sealing around his member, enveloping him perfectly in its embrace. You whine, lower lip quivering as he slowly wraps his hand around your neck, the cold touch makes your body shiver as warmth seeps into you, flooding your insides white.

The motion of his metal hand elicits a loud groan from you, and Bucky captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling you by the grip on your neck. Your walls clench as your orgasm abruptly erupts and he continues to thrust through your orgasm as best as he can.

He leans in, chasing his lips across your collarbone as his hands gently stroke down your back, your arms.

To allow yourself to trust another person is no small risk, after everything that you've been through. Allowing yourself to be exposed, vulnerable—it is incredibly intimate to Bucky.

“I am taking your knife away for a week” he murmurs into the flesh above your breasts, warmly and good‐humoredly.

“But I have a whole collection” you snap irritably, but then you suddenly smile proudly.

#what is this? this is real #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #oneshot #smut

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eimids · 6 months

Text

Emotional support water bottle

Lionesses x reader

This is again just a quick blurb. It’s 3 am I jist found out something that literally makes me sick so I had to write something not so dark. Literally reader and her water bottle.

Warnings: none

words: idk but very short

You carried your water bottle where ever you went. Going shopping? Water bottle is a must. Practice? Obviously you’ll have your bottle. Going to the bathroom? Water bottle. Teammeatings? Water bottle. Even in restaurants? You had your water bottle in your bag.

At that point it was just like a support animal for you. It was always with you and you would freak out if you didn’t have it. Your teammates at england loved to tease you about it.

It started when Lotte noticed you carrying it around during one camp. She thought it was funny how you just carried it everywhere and how you would freak out if you lost it. She made a comment about it to Alessia who obviously told Toone. You were oblivious to their snickering behind your back. They thought it was cute how your water bottle meant so much to you.

You were the baby of the group, usually hanging with Less and Toone. You were known for always smiling and laughing with others. You always tried to make others happy. ‘The ray of sunshine’ as you were known. Along with Esme, you were the joy of the team. But that also came with some naïvety. A lot of your teammates were protective over you. Especially Lucy.

Lucy and you got along really well since the first camp you were called up to. She was your football mom in England and in every game if someone hurt you, she would make sure that the opposite player got the same treatment.

During the next camp the word of you and your water bottle had been whispered around to everyone in the team. Leah’s favorite thing was to hide it somewhere so you’d have to look for it and get all pouty about it.

One day during a team meeting you barged into the room late.

“Where is my water bottle? Has anyone seen it? I have to find it before the game tomorrow.” You blurted out. Stopping Sarinas speech that she was giving.

Leah bursted out laughing. After that so did some of the other girls. You were confused, what were they laughing about?

“Y/n sweetie, look at your backpack” Lucy said simply.

You took your backpack off of your back and there it was. Your oh so dear water bottle in the side of the backpack. You even made Sarina laugh at your antics even though you did interrupt her. Smile took over your face as you sat down next to Lucy and buried your head to her neck in embarrassment. Lucy just put her arms around you and then Sarina was able to continue.

Another thing that was very known to your teammates was your need to pee. 24/7. Leah could swear that every time she saw you, you would say ‘i need to pee’. It was hilarious to your teammates.

Your obsession with your water bottle came up in an interview when the interviewer was asking some questions from the team members. The first question was just ‘Who has the worst dance moves’ some said Lucy and some Hemph. The next question was ‘Who’s most likely to have a support stuffed animal with them during camp’ Pretty much everyone in the team said your name but continued that you didn’t have a support stuffie but rather support water bottle.

It was only when that interview came to Lionesses tiktok that you realized that the whole team had low key made fun of you and your water bottle. But in a good and loving way. They were your family although you would hear endless teasing about that damn water bottle.

—

it’s me, i’m y/n and i have an obsession with my water bottle.

#lionesses #lucy bronze #leah williamson #ella toone #alessia russo #wlw post #woso x reader

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joshsbimbo · 3 months

Text

positive

part one ♡ part three

pairings: stalker! mike x victim! reader

warnings: stalking, obsession, mike’s a cuck, pregnancy test, framed robbery, stolen underwear n laptop, reader’s a slvt

a/n: heyyyy y’all long time no see

♡ cramps. bloating. cravings. hell. you assumed that your period was close, but weeks have passed and not even a bit brown appeared on your pad. you sat on the bathroom floor, your hands anxiously twirling your hair as your best friend comforted you.

♡ “babe, it’s okay! you used protection, right?”

♡ you shamefully put your face in your hands, “when i had condoms, yeah…”

♡ she stops checking herself out in the mirror to look at you in disbelief, “what about pulling out?”

♡ “plan b exists for a reason!” you whisper-yelled.

♡ “so do condoms, dummy.” at first, her eyebrows were furrowed, but then she stopped when she realized how anxious you were. “i’m still here for you, even when you do dumb things.” she gives you a comforting smile while squeezing your hand.

♡ you smile back, and when you’re about to reply the alarm cuts you off. “you flip it!” you squeak, burying your face in the stuffed animal you brought for emotional support. you held your breath as she flipped the test.

♡ “bunny… i'm sorry." she shows you the test. the blue letters you dreaded. “positive”.

♡ your best friend leaves hours later, leaving you alone as you lay in bed.

you: how much do abortions cost

her: abortions r like 800 but i can split with you

you: that’s still like 400000000!!!

her: 400.

u know i love u tho and would spend more than 800 for u! <3

you: yh but i was the one being stupid

idek who the dad is

her: slut 😭

you: bro stfu

not my fault these men r easy lol

♡ you toss your phone away, pulling out your laptop to watch a movie as you get comfy in bed. wait- where the fuck is your laptop?

♡ it’s been two weeks since mike took advantage of his princess, how could he not? you looked so pretty and you did owe him one and you- whatever. besides using your blacked-out body, he also took a souvenir. he thanked god that you used icloud, looking over your gallery as his hands were down his jeans. he swears, once you’re his, you won’t be a whore for all these braindead men, only his. he still enjoyed seeing your pretty pics of cum on your face, tongue sticking out, and runny mascara though...

♡ another one of his favorites was you in a mini skirt, bent over to show your pretty pink panties. he held those same panties in his hand as he stroked his cock against it, going painfully slow to be able to admire your body fully. he tried so desperately to go slow so his mind wouldn’t get so fuzzy, but he couldn’t help it when he had so many pics of you in lewd positions and angles. pathetically cumming into the lacey fabric, his chest heaving as he tried to breathe, the pleasure was so much that he had to hold his breath.

♡ ding! he squinted his eyes to focus on the message from your best friend, “abortions r like 800 but i can split with you”

♡ he wipes his hand on his jeans to click on the notification, reading your messages. “she’s.. she’s pregnant..” he muttered, his breathing picking up again. “abortion? fuck fuck fuck, no!” he yelled out, running his “clean” hand through his curls in disbelief. he got up from his bed, pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how to stop you.

♡ it was one of mike’s favorite parts of the day, he stood by your favorite store as he pretended to be doing his job. his walkie-talkie occasionally turning on and the person on the other side requesting for a guard or announcing that someone was caught stealing.

♡ never you, though. his perfect princess would never steal, so it really killed him to do this. as you entered the store, you paid no mind to mike. you looked through the rack of clothes, focused on finding something good while mike sneaked in a pair of earrings into your purse. he pretended to look around for anything “suspicious” before leaving the store, smiling to himself that he had the guts to do that. eventhohebrokeintoyourroomliketwoweeksago

♡ retail therapy was obviously needed because of the night before, your shoulders felt less tense after paying for your new tops. you happily left the store but stopped in your tracks when the alarm went off.

♡ a security guard walked up to you, his eyebrows already furrowed as he put his hand out. you shakily handed him the receipt, tears already threatening to spill, the hormones making you 10x more sensitive. he looks over the receipt and your shopping bag, then he points at your purse. “i’m going to have to check your bag, ma’am.”

♡ you willingly gave him your purse, just wanting to get over it. your heart drops when he pulls out a pair of hoops, “i-i swear i didn’t put them there!”

♡ “then who did, bitch?-” he asked, but mike's voice quickly followed after him.

♡ “it's fine, steve. i got this, you go take your lunch break.” mike looks at the man with a “sincere” smile.

♡ steve scoffs and backs up from the two of you, giving him a ‘are you serious?’ look, before leaving to the food court.

♡ you let out a breath that you didn't even know you were holding in. “thank you-” you read his name tag, “mike!” you smile up at him with flushed cheeks and teary eyes.

♡ “no need to thank me, i just really hate the new hires. they’re suck dicks.” his heart skipped a beat when you said his name, he tried so hard not to stutter but the blush on his cheeks said it all.

♡ “no seriously! he looked like he was going to kill me!” you let out a laugh of relief. “how can i repay you, mikey?

♡ mikey. his very own nickname from you. he almost died. “no no! you don’t need to. i promise.” he looks down at you as he gives you the sweetest smile ever. no one else makes him smile like you do

♡ you playfully hit his arm, biting your lip slowly as you giggled, “c’mon, pleeeasseeee?”

♡ are you flirting? his cheeks flushed even more at the thought… after a couple of minutes of chatting, mike's walkie-talkie turns on.

♡ “mike. imma need you to come to zumiez, some dude was trying to steal a beanie and he’s putting up a fight.”

♡ his heart drops and he looks at you shyly, “before i leave.. could i get your number?” of course he already had it, but he wanted to hear the numbers come out of your mouth.

♡ “mhm, call me if you ever need anything. i owe you, mikey….” you kiss his cheek before leaving.

♡ he holds his cheek in awe as you leave, finally, you’re going to have a man that treats you right… not like the other dickheads.

thank u for reading <3

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh futturman #josh futturman x reader #josh futterman x reader smut

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deepdarkdelights · 10 months

Text

Instinct | Taehyung x Reader

Pairing: Hybrid Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Stalking (in the animal sense lol) Fear, Blood, Murder, Kind of Cannibalism? Hunting Animals and Humans, Depictions of Dead Bodies, Non-consensual touching, Human Experimentation, Depictions of Gore, Break In, Attempted Murder, Light Spice at End, Insinuated Dub-Con, Taehyung is kind of a switch tbh

Preview: He was huddled in the middle of the road, his arms wrapped around himself as he remained crouched on the wet pavement. But you knew he was looking at you. His golden eyes were glowing back at you, like a predator glaring at you from the depths of the jungle. There was something inside you that knew that he was dangerous, an echo of intuition from thousands of years before you. But you were a modern human, you were good at ignoring your instincts.

A/N: I wrote this in two days due to your guys' interest in the prompt. I chose Tae instead of Jimin, he only has two fics on my blog! Anyways it’s two in the morning and I’m really tired, this is really short compared to the majority of my works but I hope you still enjoy it. ILY and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments ~ good night my loves 💜

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, the words cracked and broken.

“No, you’re not.” You sighed.

He always did this. He always turned on the tears every time you called him out on his bullshit and you had a terrible habit of falling for it every time. He cried, he apologized, but in a few days he was back on his usual shit.

“But I am, I really am!” He insisted, tears pooling in pretty brown eyes.

“Really? I don’t think he sees it that way,” You said with a jerk of your head in the direction of the limp body splayed on the ground. “In fact, I really doubt he sees much anymore.”

“But he-“

“No!” You yelled, spurring a flinch from him, “You always have some excuse but not this time! I am tired of spending my evenings scrubbing blood out of the grout!”

He could only pout in response because there was no way of getting around it, you were right. It was unfair that you always had to be the one to clean up his messes. But he just couldn’t help himself, he was a killer by design. Not nature, design.

You let out another laborious, tired sigh. It seemed that was all you did these days, ever since you had found Taehyung.

You had almost hit him with your car. It was late at night, a new moon to be exact, the darkness thick and just barely penetrable by your headlights. He had come out of nowhere, his lithe body trapped between two beams of light before you swerved out of the way just missing him by mere inches.

You could remember the feeling of your tight grasp on the leather of the steering wheel, the way your throat constricted and how your chest rapidly rose and fell, and the sound of catchy pop music that was so ill fitting and off putting for such a dramatic turn of events. It was ingrained in your memory, a turning point in your life that you would never forget.

He was huddled in the middle of the road, his arms wrapped around himself as he remained crouched on the wet pavement. But you knew he was looking at you. His golden eyes were glowing back at you, like a predator glaring at you from the depths of the jungle. There was something inside you that knew that he was dangerous, an echo of intuition from thousands of years before you. But you were a modern human, you were good at ignoring your instincts.

As you approached him you noticed several things about him. The dirt and blood that stained his honey skin, his taunt, tense, strong muscles, and of course the ears protruding from his thick, dark curls, and the tail that swung in agitation from his tailbone.

Taehyung was, quite literally, one of a kind.

An embryo spliced with the DNA of an apex predator, something that had never existed before him, a hybrid.

He had hissed at you, stopping you four feet away from his crumpled form. His teeth glinted in the light, a set of fangs protruding from the top row of his teeth with a smaller matching set on the bottom. That noise had every nerve in your body tingling in fright, yet still you persisted.

You made yourself smaller, lowering yourself to the ground so that you were lower than he was with your arms at your sides, every vulnerable point of your body open and exposed to him.

You remembered the feeling of his nose nudging at your pulse point, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your neck, the rumble of a growl deep in his chest before it faded to a gentle chuff as he nuzzled his face against the column of your throat. There were serrated teeth hidden behind beautiful full lips, one little bite would sever a major artery and blood would arch through the dark sky.

Taehyung was a dangerous brand of beautiful.

You often liked to joke to yourself that you were a lonely woman who took in a stray cat. It was easier to use humor to veil the harsh reality of what you had actually brought into your home.

Taehyung quickly became attached to you, it was almost like he had imprinted on you. It was the only way that you could explain his sudden and intense adoration towards you especially when you remembered the way he looked at you when he first saw you. It was like he was hungry.

That hunger was ever present in his eyes, buried beneath the loving gaze it's embers still burned. The fiery gold cooled to a deep brown, his eyes wide in wonderment as he watched you.

You hissed in pain when he dug his fingers into your arms as you tried to help lower him into the tub. A hiss died in his throat as he slowly sunk into the warm water, a gentle purr took its place.

“There you go,” You hummed as you helped him wash, the tub water steadily growing murky as you scrubbed the grime and blood from his skin.

The noise he made as you washed his hair, massaging his scalp and the base of his ears, was heavenly. A beautiful baritone groan that melted into a purr. After all, panthers were still cats.

When you pulled the drain plug and went to grab a towel, he spoke to you for the first time.

His hold on your arm tightened, his soft eyes turned primal once more. “Don’t leave.”

His voice was deep and raspy. It sounded like he hadn’t spoken in a long time, it sounded animalistic. It suited him well.

Over time you learned Taehyung never wanted to be alone. He clung to you at all times no matter what you were doing and despite your protests he followed you to bed every night. He would wrap you up tightly in his embrace sealing you into his prison-like grasp with a leg draped over your hip. His adoration was constricting.

“It was cold,” He finally explained to you, “They kept me in a room all by myself. It was all metal and concrete, they fed me with long silver tongs. I was always alone, the only touch I knew, hurt.”

You held him tighter that night, your heart ached for your panther. All he wanted was for someone to love him, he was just as human as anyone else.

“Please don’t hurt me.” He whispered, nudging the back of your head with his nose and breathing in your scent as his pretty fingers smoothed over your ribs in a slow, circular pattern.

In reality, it wasn’t you that would end up hurting anyone.

You had noticed something was wrong when he lost his appetite. He would stare down at his plate with a bored and confused look in his eyes, poking at whatever he was supposed to be eating with a lack of interest.

“Please, Tae,” You would beg, using the soft and soothing voice you knew he responded well to, “Just a few bites for me? You don’t want to hurt my feelings, do you?”

He would acquise with those big adoring eyes before taking small and faux enthusiastic bites. But it was clear he wasn’t enjoying it and you had an idea as to why that was. But it was easier for your own sanity if you ignored the glaring problem.

It became unignorable the night a man broke into your house.

Taehyung had heard it first, the shattering of glass and the metal squeak of door hinges. He had crept out of bed and stalked into the hallway, clinging to the shadows as he watched the man attempt to sneak further into your home. He was trespassing into his territory and that was a dire mistake.

You were awoken by the screaming. You jolted upright and were greeted by your pitch black bedroom. The screams persisted, deep, panicked, blood curdling screams followed by a wet gurgle and then an ever scarier silence.

That feeling was there again, that intuition that was buried inside of you that was begging you to lock and barricade the door and not go investigating the source of those screams. But Taehyung was missing and you were scared without him.

The hallway was dark, but a single beam of moonlight shone through the broken window of the front door and illuminated the carnage in front of you.

Taehyung was bent over the body of a man. His tail was slowly skirting over the floor in delight as he ripped a chunk of flesh from the man’s shoulder and tilted his head back. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, the blood on his face gleaming in the moonlight.

You could see the man on the floor now, his throat had been ripped open and blood was steadily pooling around him. His eyes were vacant, his jaw was slack. He was dead. Taehyung had killed him.

Taehyung was eating him.

There had always been a part of you that had considered this to be a possibility. It explained why Taehyung was in the state he was in the night that you had found him. It explained how he had escaped that facility and why he wasn’t hungry for days after. He had killed and consumed his handlers.

Despite the panther ears and tail, you often forgot that Taehyung wasn’t entirely human. He was so sweet with you, so clingy and adorable. But he was still an apex predator. He didn’t want to be fed with tongs or served cooked meals. He needed to hunt, it was ingrained in his DNA.

You watched in fascinated horror as his teeth and textured tongue expertly removed flesh from bone. He was finally eating.

You took a step back only to trip over a bag that had belonged to the intruder. Out of it spilled horrifyingly familiar items. Duct tape, zip ties, knives. It was a kill kit. Your breathing stuttered and your heart dropped. There was not a doubt in your mind as to what that man had planned to do, and Taehyung had stopped him. He protected you.

His golden eyes were looking at you now, their narrowed predatory gaze relaxing, and his soft round eyes returned. He rose up from his animalistic crouch with a fluidity no normal man could possess and slowly approached you.

You closed your eyes as he neared you, your body on fire from genuine fear. It was a toxic blend, the love and the fear that you felt for him. You flinched when his large hand cupped your face and held your breath when you felt his lips softly drag over your cheek leaving a streak of warm blood in their wake.

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled, a stray tear escaping his eye and rolling down your cheek, “I’m so hungry.”

When you opened your eyes you were met with quite a sight. Taehyung had always been beautiful, the most beautiful man that you had ever seen. But the way he looked now made you realize how sick you were. How could you think he looked beautiful with those full lips stained red and the glaze of a shed tear streaked down the curve of his face.

Taehyung never asked to be made, and now he had to suffer the consequences of his creation.

“It’s okay baby,” You cooed, your thumb brushing a bead of blood from his lower lip that he chased with his tongue, swiping it off of the tip of your finger. “Finish your meal.”

~~~~~~~

There was a shift that night.

The relationship between the two of you was changing. You could see it in the way he watched you. It was a different kind of hunger, one for a companionship he had never been able to have.

And his regular appetite was changing too.

You tried taking him to the forest, letting him hunt small and big game. And it worked, but the human side of him would often combat the animal side. He craved the complexity of hunting humans. He craved satiating his wrath against humans, the very beings that had created him.

Animals worked in the short term, but it was never long before another man ended up dead in your yard or in this case, on the kitchen floor.

“You said it was okay if it was bad people!” Taehyung tried, his ears pressing down flat against his skull as his tail twitched behind him.

“Yes, bad people Tae! Intruders, rapists, murderers, not delivery guys!”

“He entered my territory-“

“This is my house, Tae! My house! Don’t start with the territory shit again.”

“I can’t help it, you know that! You don’t feel what I feel, it’s instinctual, I need to do this!”

You gripped your hair tightly in distress before leaning against the counter and dropping your head into your hands.

“People are going to start noticing, Tae. You can’t keep doing this. If it’s not the police then it’s going to be the people that made you and they’ll take you away from me, is that what you want?”

“No!” He yelled, grabbing you by your shoulders and spinning you around to face him. “I want to stay with you, please don’t let them take me away!”

You softened as he began to cry again, his tears wearing away at you like they always did even though you were very aware of the fact that you couldn’t keep letting him do this. You cupped his cheek and lightly wiped his tears away as he bumped the side of his face against your hand before laying a bloody kiss to your palm.

You couldn’t think rationally when he treated you like this. Your head was also hazy with desire when he did this. It was completely and utterly unfair.

“Come on, I’ll put you to bed.” You hummed before taking his hand and guiding him to your shared room.

It was even harder to think clearly when he looked so adorable, wide eyed and curled up beneath your blankets. That was why you needed the distance. You needed to think about what more you could do, you couldn’t keep letting him kill innocent guys whose worst crime was getting a little handsy, like the delivery guy. You knew what it was, you knew what desire looked like in someone’s eyes. Taehyung was wiping out any man he saw as competition. He had said it himself, it was instinctual.

Your heart ached when his eyes filled with confusion and it tore in half when despair overtook him as you shut and locked the door, trapping him on the other side. You could hear him scramble across the floor and you watched as the door knob jiggled.

“Please open the door!” He called through the wood, “Why are you doing this, please let me out!”

“Just calm down Taehyung, go to sleep, I'll be right back.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you, please open the door, I’ll be good I promise! I won’t hurt you!”

“I just need some space, just lay down, I’ll be back.” You said firmly despite how horrible you felt for confining him to your room.

“No, no, no, no! Don’t leave me, please! I’ll be good!” He continued to yell and continued to break your heart.

You couldn’t bear to listen to his anguished, panicked cries especially with the knowledge that you were the cause of them.

You could still hear his yelling and banging on the door as you dragged the body out of the kitchen, a long and laborious effort that left a large streak of blood behind you. This wasn’t the first time that you had to do this but usually you had Taehyung to take care of all the heavy lifting while you took care of the cleanup. It was a morbid, macabre chore, but one you had come accustomed to frighteningly quick.

In your backyard, there were several piles of dirt. Some had been freshly turned over while others had sat undisturbed for some time. Above each pile sat a freshly planted rose bush. There had been a time where your backyard was barren and neglected. Ever since Taehyung had entered your life, you had done quite a bit of gardening…against your will.

You huffed in exhaustion as you patted the soil smooth with your shovel. You would need to pick up another rose bush tomorrow.

You had figured this would be the best way to deal with the problem, and it helped Taehyung in some odd, primal way. Sometimes he would sit outside with a satisfied look on his face like he was proud of what he had done. You knew it was because it felt that he had eliminated another threat or competitor. It meant that he had you all to himself again.

Fear and love are a volatile blend. Could you look past your fear because you loved him? Or did you love him because you were afraid? Afraid of what would happen if you didn’t shower him with affection and attention. Would he turn on you too?

The sound of a loud crack frightened you causing you to drop the shovel. It clattered to the ground and rolled over in the grass, suddenly becoming far more interesting than it had been moments ago.

You glanced back up at the house and watched, frozen in shock, as the door was thrown open and slammed up against the siding of the house. Taehyung stood on the back steps, his hands bloody from clawing at and breaking through your bedroom door. His chest was heaving from exertion and anxiety and for the first time in a long while, he scared you. His gaze narrowed in on you, those panther eyes glowing with hunger and desire once they found you.

With blood and dirt caked beneath your nails you were reminded of the kill he made not all that long ago. The fear you felt was all too real. And, on instinct, you turned and you ran.

You really should have known better. He was an apex predator, he was built for the chase and for the hunt. You had watched the way he enjoyed tracking and stalking his prey before going in for the kill. But in reality, everything you had done up until this point had not made sense. You should have kept driving that night, you shouldn’t have brought him home, you certainly shouldn’t have let him sleep in your bed, and you definitely should have ran the first time he had killed and consumed another human being.

Running was instinct, it was the only thing that you did that made sense.

But you couldn’t make it far. You were exhausted from dragging and burying that body, you were running on empty with a dash of adrenaline. And Taehyung, he was stronger than you, faster than you, and could even see in the dark. It was embarrassing that you had even attempted to escape him.

His strides were completely silent, you had realized he was closing in on you too late and within seconds his arms were wrapped around your chest and dragging you down into the grass.

It had happened so quickly that you didn’t register it, you laid on your back, frozen in the grass as you processed what happened. And once you looked up and caught sight of his canines you began to writhe beneath him, managing to turn over and scramble a foot away before he grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back beneath him. He caged you in between his arms and pressed his body weight against you until you collapsed chest first into the ground.

“Taehyung, wait!” You cried as you felt him shove his face in the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

You closed your eyes then, waiting for him to make the fatal bite that you had seen him deliver time and time again. But there was nothing. You jerked with a surprised cry as you felt his tongue glide over your pulse point in slow languid laps.

“Tae, what are you-“ He cut you off with a menacing growl, one that told you you were not going to dissuade him from doing what he felt needed to be done.

An involuntary gasp parted your lips as you felt his hips grind down against you, his hands sliding up towards your wrists and holding them in an iron grip as his slow licks transitioned into hot, wet, open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. He was making sure he marked up every inch of skin that was exposed to him.

“I can’t help it,” He whined, his voice breathy and deep as he ground himself against you even harder than before, spurring a soft cry from you. “I need you.”

You supposed this was the better alternative to him killing you. But still, it didn’t feel quite right.

“I can’t.” You groaned.

A menacing snarl echoed beside your ear and in one quick movement he flipped you over onto your back and pulled your legs tightly over his hips. His hold was so strong he wasn’t giving you an inch to move unless it was against him and in the way that he desired.

And in a moment of pure need he firmly gripped your jaw and pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Everything about him was primal, even the way that he kissed. It wasn’t particularly skilled, it was definitely his first, but it didn’t lack passion or desire. He wouldn’t even let you breathe, your lungs burning and singing in desperation for air as he moaned into your mouth while desperately rutting against you.

“Don’t leave me,” He moaned in between desperate, relentless kisses.

‘Tae-,” You tried again only for your words to be smothered once more.

“No, I won’t let you leave me.”

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