#a smiling ‘i won’t touch a hair on their head’. lying through their teeth

[whump-in-the-closet]

I mean, really, what’s better than a hissed “Don’t fucking touch them!”

[kingofbodyrolls]

Till We Meet Again (m) | jjk

When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blue— you never thought you’d see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your ears— sweet like cotton candy, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, it’s Jungkook.

→ Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: childhood friends to lovers → Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 11.4k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkook’s first time (he is not a virgin lol, but it’s his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. There’s talk about how merfolk do it 👀 This is just crack fantasy okay, please don’t take it seriously! There’s some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. → Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. → Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld → Read on AO3! → Author’s note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 🥳 I wrote this story for you as a present. I know you’re not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited 🤭 So this first one is for you bby ✨ I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.

Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, he’s pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.

He’s sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize he’s heading towards your home. You’ve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that he’s your future husband. You’re not thinking that far ahead—you’re just a child, after all. Yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a fondness for him.

Let’s be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.

Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.

“Shouldn’t we get inside where it’s dry?” you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No, we’ll be safe here,” he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“We should go inside; I don’t want either of us to catch a cold,” you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know it’s risky to stay out in wet clothes. It’s autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, you’re aware that it won’t last long.

“Let’s just stay here for a moment, okay?” he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resist—after all, who could say no to that adorable face?

For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.

Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadable— sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You can’t help but wonder what has shifted, why he’s undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.

“___. Promise me you’ll never forget me?” 

His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppy’s, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.

Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why he’s broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.

Something shimmers in his eyes—what, you can’t quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.

“Forget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?” your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.

“It’s just... I like you a lot, and,” he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. You’re my friend.”

With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, “Duh, silly. Of course you’ll never forget me! And I’ll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?”

Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.

“Just promise me. We’ll never forget each other, no matter what,” he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.

He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger. 

“Pinky promise?” he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.

Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.

“Okay. Pinky promise,” you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.

You never laid eyes on Jungkook after that—well, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.

Why you’re thinking about him now, you really don’t know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, you’ve never let go of his memory—a part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyes—not because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.

Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasures—seashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.

You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. It’s not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled you—sometimes you wonder what really happened. 

Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word? 

Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?

It’s after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.

With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You can’t help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species you’ve never even heard of that call it home.

Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though you’re no diver, the allure of the sea’s hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.

A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize it’s a voice—someone is singing.

God, it sounds beautiful—captivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.

For a moment, you wonder if it’s all in your head—a fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms you’ve barely finished your first glass.

The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.

Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.

There it is again—the singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you can’t pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.

Then, just as you’ve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishes—quiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusive—like a distant memory struggling to resurface.

For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.

Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.

Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.

As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your body—not from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.

Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.

A soft, melodic sound tickles your ear—it’s that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.

The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moon’s gentle caress.

Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.

“Hello?” you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.

As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.

“Are you okay?” you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.

You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are striking—sharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.

“Jungkook?” you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you—happiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.

The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mind—why is he here, and why is he without a shirt?

Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?

You can’t help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldn’t, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

“___?” His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.

“Is it really you?” you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubt—it’s unmistakably Jungkook.

“Yes, it’s me,” he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.

“Just taking a breather,” he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Hold on a second,” you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. “What brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?”

Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkook—then, you spot it: the tail. It’s a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.

Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surface—if it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before you—your childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? You’ve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone you’ve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.

“___,” he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. “It’s been such a long time. How have you been?” His eyes radiate happiness, but you’re still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him again—something you’ve dreamt about for years—leaves you speechless.

“No,” you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. “You don’t get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.” Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock he’s perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before you—your childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.

“Alright, fire away,” he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “But give me a moment to settle in.” With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.

He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.

You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbelief—it all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, you’re met with a jolt of realization—his muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. You’ve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if it’s been scorched. “I didn’t mean to touch you like that!” Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.

Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. “I just wanted to make sure this is real,” you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.

You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before you—Jungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformed—you can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.

“Oh, this is very real,” he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you can’t quite decipher but are desperate to understand.

“Are you really a merman?” you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. It’s breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.

“What happened to you? Why did you leave?” you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore you’d ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?

You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. “My parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,” he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. “A rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.”

You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.

“Okay. But why couldn’t you come back when you were done?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. It’s apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.

“I really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,” he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. It’s evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.

“Why are you here now? And are there others like you?” you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.

“Well, I’ve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. “And yes, there are others like me,” he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.

“Thinking of me?” you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you since I had to leave, and I’ve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,” he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, you’re struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.

“I’ve missed you too,” you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.

“How come you’re a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw you…” you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.

“You want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,” he gestures with his other hand over his body— it’s well defined, muscles big and strong, “or if I’d always been a merman?” His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.

You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill he’s always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.

“I’ve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humans— they’re merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, I’ve always been like this,” he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.

“How… How do you transform?” you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought you’d outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

“Well. When I’m out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when I’m in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,” he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.

You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. “Do you transform when it rains then?” you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.

His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you can’t help but revel in.

“No. That wouldn’t be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,” he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.

You nod in understanding once more. “Nothing about this is practical, Jungkook,” you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.

He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.

He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. It’s like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, you’re drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.

“Do you remember our promise?” he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.

“Of course,” you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. “I’ve never forgotten you, Jungkook,” you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.

He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. “I’ve never forgotten you either, ___,” he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.

With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. It’s a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.

“I never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like he’s peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

“I like you too,” your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.

In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.

In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.

His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if he’s afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, it’s like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, you’re overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.

You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. “It’s getting late,” you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the cave’s embrace. 

“When will I see you again?” the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.

A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions—frazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.

“Soon,” he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “You can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. I’ll return, I promise.” With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.

Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing. 

“You really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,” you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.

With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.

“I’ll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,” he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.

Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared you’d never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.

So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely love—his lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, you’ve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which you’ve shared with Jungkook, isn’t helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.

“Why are you having this party again if you don’t really want to?” he asks, genuinely curious. He can’t fathom why you’d willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.

“I guess it’s just expected of me,” you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. “My friends are coming, my parents too. They haven’t seen my new house yet.”

He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for them, but it sounds like you’re forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.”

You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. “Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not like I dislike it completely. It’ll be nice seeing my friends again.” You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face. 

“You could also come, you know?”

His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. “I’d love to come, but I’m not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and we’ve been searching for him without luck…” His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.

You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know you’re always welcome, no matter when.”

His smile returns, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. “Thanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, that’s why we’re afraid something has happened to him.”

You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jimin’s swift return—after all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.

A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity.

As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. It’s only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long you’ve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.

Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.

Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin. 

“Who’s that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?” she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.

As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: it’s unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.

“___! You never mentioned Jungkook’s return! How long has it been, twenty years?” your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkook’s cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.

Your dad’s eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if he’s just rediscovered an old friend, and you can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. “Who is this handsome man?”

As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. “This is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.”

“He’s hot,” your friend’s observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.

Your mother’s laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. “He really is! You’ve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,” she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkook’s rather impressive biceps.

“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkook’s hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.

As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.

Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.

“Would you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?” he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.

With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.

She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. “Here,” she says, passing it to you. 

“I have a feeling you might need this.”

You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.

As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.

Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your side—both of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.

His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.

You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. “Do you want to go to the cave?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.

You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

“Cool. I know a way to get there from land,” he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.

“You do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,” you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.

“I know a lot of hiding spots,” he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.

You step into the familiar cliffside cave where you’ve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

“Much easier to talk in here, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.

You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to talk,” he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. That’s when it hits you—he has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.

You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. “I want to do more than talk,” you quip, your voice small but steady. “I want to kiss you and so much more.”

Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. “So you want more?” he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

“I want you, Kook,” you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.

Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.

“I want you too, ___, but I—” he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.

You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.

“Hmm, you like it?” you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes, but I—” as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.

“What, are you a virgin?” your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.

“No!” His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve just never done it with a human before…” he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.

You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.

“I can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, you’ll enjoy every moment,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.

“I mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,” he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, “I’ve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but I’ve never had sex with a human before.”

Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.

“Mermen don’t exactly have dicks like humans,” he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.

You lean in again, teasing him, “How exactly do merfolk have sex?”

He chuckles, smirking at you, “Well, it’s more like a mating ritual, honestly. There’s some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. It’s quite primal and intimate, in its own way.”

You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. “That’s it?”

He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.’

“No teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?” you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.

“No sticking things into holes sadly—except for tongue kissing,” he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.

“But you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,” you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.

“Many of them have already experienced it,” he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, “My hyungs have done it a lot, and I can’t wait to experience it myself.”

“They sound like they’ve had their fair share of adventures,” you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.

He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Can we talk about something else? Because I’m having trouble focusing on your hand when I’m talking about my friends.”

With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover he’s gone commando—a thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. “No underwear?” you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.

With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.

His cock is long— longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.

He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. “Do you like it?” he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.

You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you don’t care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.

He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. “Have you had a lot of sex before?”

You nod and give him a small smile.

You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. “I have, but let’s focus on us now,” you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. “I want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?”

With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.

He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.

His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you don’t mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.

The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.

“Shit. I’m feeling like I might come already,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.

You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.

“It felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,” his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.

“Of course. I want to have you inside of me too,” you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.

“You’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. “It’s not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personality—it’s all so captivating.”

Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. “What’s that?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.

You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing he’s never encountered a condom before. It’s endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.

“It’s a condom. It’s for protection,” you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. “You put it on your cock. I’m on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,” you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.

As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. “Not now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? I’ve never tried it before,” he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.

His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.

“Your panties are wet.” 

You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.

“That’s because I’m aroused,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.

“You can remove it,” you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.

He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.

“Please, Jungkook,” you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, “I need to feel you, your touch—whether it’s your fingers or your mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me.”

As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you can’t help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.

He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.

“You can put a finger in,” you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.

He looks up, his eyes searching yours, “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. “Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, “I want your fingers inside me now.”

With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.

The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.

“Wow,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.

Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, “Can I add another one?”

You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. You’re trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.

“Please,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, “add a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.” You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.

With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chest—your nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.

As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at it.”

His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.

You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.

With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.

With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.

Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you can’t help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. It’s as though he’s an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.

As your body arches and trembles with impending release, you’re acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. “Jungkook,” you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, “I’m... I’m going to come.”

With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, you’re overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.

With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. “Was this alright?” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. “It was perfect,” you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.

“Now you can fuck me,” filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.

With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.

You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, “Push a little, but slowly.”

As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.

His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, “Wow. You’re so tight,” he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.

“God, you’re big,” you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.

Finally, he’s completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.

“You can move now,” you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.

“How? You’re hugging me so tight,” he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.

“Feel how we fit together?” you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. “Just move your hips—back and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, it’ll be amazing.”

“I already feel so good.”

He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you can’t help but moan in bliss.

“Don’t stop—faster,” you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.

Your hands abandon his ass and hips once you’re satisfied he’s got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.

“Keep going—harder,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know there’ll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure he’s giving you.

“Yes!” you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.

“___. I think I’m going to come soon,” he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.

“Me too. Shit. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.

“I’m just a fast learner,” he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you. 

He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. It’s an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

That’s it. You’re gonna come again.

“Fuck, Kook,” you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed he’s moving his hips at.

“Damn, how did you just get even tighter?” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing he’s teetering on the edge of release.

“Fuck—” he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.

You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, “I loved every moment of it.”

“Me too,” his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.

As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.

“Can we do it again?” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.

“But maybe we can go for a swim first?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.

His expression shifts to one of surprise. “You want to swim? I’ll revert to my merman form then…”

You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. “I love you, whether you’re in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.”

As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.

He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.

You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.

As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. “I’d love to see your home someday,” you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.

“Yeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,” he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.

Your eyes widen with wonder— the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. “I’d love that,” you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.

→ Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are 100% made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work sometimes (the banners)).

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[azsazz]

Body and Soul

Vampire!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon req: "Okay but imagine vamp Az fucking you from behind in front of a mirror but you can’t see his reflection, only the way your body is shaking from the way he’s making you feel, moaning in your ear about how pretty you look taking his cock, making you watch yourself orgasm again and again and again"

Warnings: Smut, dom/sub dynamics, mirror sex, overstimulation, cnc, fingering, oral (F receiving), powerplay, dubcon.

Word Count: 2,974

Notes: Your honor I love him

_________________________________________

“Did you think he could fuck you better than I can, or were you just trying to upset me?” Azriel’s voice is like gravel against your skin. His hands are planted firmly on your hips, holding you to his body with such an ease that if you hadn’t known he had immortal strength, you’d be slipping right out your cracked bedroom door and dashing for the buttery light creeping into your room.

Your heart is so loud, beating so frantic, so harsh, that you’re afraid it might just jumpstart Azriel’s in his chest behind you. 

It wasn’t your fault that the other vampires of his clan had taken an interest in you. You were one of the few females to attend this evening, and you were definitely the only human. They could probably scent you from the hall, across the acres separating their homes as you arrived with the shadowsinger. If Azriel hadn’t wanted them to talk to you, to flirt with you, he shouldn’t have brought you along.

Of course, it’s your fault.

Your fault for smiling at the golden skinned, bright haired male from Adriata, your fault for plucking a grape off of a skewer from the stocky Illyrian male with luscious locks who looked all too much like the vampire who had stolen you. Your fault for accepting the chalice filled nearly to the brim with a heady, warm, red cocktail that you thought might’ve been blood. You hadn’t taken a single sip, but rather done it to be polite to the important looking male with auburn hair and eyes that matched.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sure you didn’t, crow.” His voice is lined with anger, jealousy. Azriel has made it very clear who you are and what you mean, how you won’t ever escape him and how you should accept that fate. Your fingers tremble where they’re curled into your skirts as his golden eyes stare pins into your head. He has you turned toward the lone mirror in your room but his reflection doesn’t show. Instead of seeing the anger on his face you can feel it in the tension of his body, through corded muscles and hard fingers. “But you will learn, fast.”

His fingers trail the bodice of your dress and your breath hitches in your throat. You hate the way that your body seems to react to his closeness, the wet pooling between your legs and the way you press further into him without your knowledge. 

Azriel continues on and you’re frozen, watching in the mirror as he pops open the button at the top of your dress. The full curve of your breasts appear, skin smooth and biteable. Your eyes shutter as his fingertips trace gently across the tops of them, gasping when he dips his hands into the fabric to get a fistful of your flesh.

“Oh,” you breathe as he skirts across your nipples. They harden beneath his rough touch and you clench your legs together to keep them from buckling.

His whisper is a taunt, breath hot against your skin. “You like that, don’t you?”

You clench your jaw, snapping your fallen lids open as you come to reality. Yes, some sick, twisted part of you might want this, want his hands on your body, his cock in your cunt, and his teeth in your neck, but you can’t. This male has stolen you away, taken you from everything you’ve once known and had once loved. You’re nothing now, nothing more than his human pet to play with and flaunt and fuck as he pleases.

“No,” you say, but your mind is screaming yes.

“The only person you’re lying to is yourself,” he taunts, nipping at your neck. It gives you goosebumps. As if to prove his statement, his hands find the center of your dress and he tugs. Buttons go flying and you squeal as your breasts fall from containment, but in the mirror it’s only you. “Watch what I’m going to your body,” his voice is a whisper of darkness that makes the candles flicker and shivers sprint up your spine. “You’ll see exactly how much you want this, crow.”

You can’t swallow past the lump in your throat. You’re left watching as he rids you of the rest of your clothes with ease, such strength but so gentle as his hands caress your skin. Each touch leaves your stomach twisting, yearning for more.

Everything stills when he removes himself from your body and circles you, gleaming eyes drinking you in like the summer sun he longs to feel across his face. You whimper as the hard press of his cock leaves you and mentally curse yourself. He shouldn’t be having this much of an effect on you, especially as his fingertips brush your hips but he places his entire palm across your abdomen as he stares down at you, dark hair hanging across his forehead and his dark eyelashes thick.

You think he might lean down, eat the space between you to press his lips to yours, but he holds back, studying you. You don’t know what for, and a part of you wants to duck your head and shy away from those intense eyes, but the other part of you wants to lift your chin and stare right back. 

Azriel finds what he’s searching for, fang peeking out of his lip when he smirks wickedly. Your heart tumbles and a retort sits on the tip of your tongue but he’s lowering himself to his knees.

He helps you take a seat, and spreads your legs with little effort. He’s kneeling before you like he’s about to pray, to dip between your thighs and taste your slick like the holy water that burns him. His nostrils flare as he takes a long look, eyes flickering down your body until you’re sure that your cheeks are bloodred.

It’s too much, his look too heated and you need to break the tension. “I—”

“I want you to stay sitting,” he interrupts.

“Why?” you ask, arms already shaking with anticipation. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep yourself sitting, especially if he puts his head between your legs like you’re hoping.

His fangs flash before he can control himself, not used to anyone asking such questions.

“You’re going to watch how prettily you take my tongue, my fingers, and my cock. All from the view of this mirror,” he says, lowering himself further. He kisses the meat of your thigh roughly and you grunt, trying to pull it away but he takes each leg in his grasp and tugs them over his shoulders, toes brushing the skin of his wings. His eyelashes flutter but his stare is demanding. “Look at yourself. See how much you want this, want me, and maybe you’ll finally realize how much you want this.”

You want to bite back at him with some snarky retort but he’s licking a stripe up your center and you’re crying out at the sensation. Azriel hums and the vibrations stimulate your clit. Already, your head is thrown back on your shoulders and your breathing is uneven, all from one taste.

“Look at yourself, or there will be no more.”

No more? Isn’t that what you should want? Him to stop? It is, but your body is moving on its own, sliding closer to his mouth as your head straightens and you meet your own burning reflection in the mirror.

“More,” you demand, but it’s shaky at best.

You can feel his smirk against your skin as he dips his mouth again, dipping into your wet heat this time and tracing praise across your clit. He sucks, hard, and the noise that comes from you is broken, thighs pressing closed on his head and toes curling against his wings. It makes him shudder and you’ve won this one, but then he’s flicking his tongue so fast against your clit in time with your pounding heart, you almost can’t take it. 

Azriel adds his fingers into the mix and you watch in the mirror how your cunt welcomes him. Your slick gleams in the reflection, his tongue still attacking your clit as he works one, then two, and a third into you, a steady pace until he’s curling his fingers into that bundle of nerves that makes your arms give out and your body writhe.

“Good gods,” you pant, hands finding his hair. You hold on tightly, grinding your cunt against his face. He feels good, too good. His centuries of practice have surely paid off.

Your chest heaves when he pulls away, eyes shut in bliss. You shouldn’t have wanted it, it shouldn’t have felt that good, but you’re still reeling in it, enjoying the post orgasm haze as he quickly undresses. 

You don’t even understand what’s going on until he’s grabbing you and flipping you with such ease it shocks you, clearing your mind in an instant as you realize how you’ll never be able to fight against him and escape, his brute strength is impossibly superior to yours.

“Look,” he commands, pulling your head up with the fistfull of your hair he has. It strains deliciously in his fingers and your mouth falls open in a desperate gasp as he thrusts into you. Tears prick your eyes at the sensation, the frustration because the part of you that twinges with lust whenever he’s around wants to know if he’s enjoying this—you. You want to see him, watch the way his firmly set jaw twitches as he comes closer to his orgasm, the way that broad chest heaves and the length of his awfully long cock as he slides it almost all the way out only to fuck his way back into you—only his reflection doesn’t show. “Look at yourself, such a pretty little human, all wrecked and drunk off my cock. Tell me, crow. When they told you about the monsters lurking in the night, did they mention my fucking cock was the most dangerous of all?” 

“No,” you pant, leaning further into his body. Your eyes roll back into your head as his arm moves across your stomach, cementing you to the front of his chest like you’ve always belonged. You can say that you hate him all you want, screaming it morning, noon, and night, but the fact of the matter is, is that your body fits near perfect against his and reacting to him in waves, pleasure building on top of pleasure in his presence.

“If they had,” he growls, tone low. It rumbles up your spine and you arch, head thrown back. Azriel towers over you, and you only catch a glimpse of his black hair dipping into his eyes before he’s wrenching your head straight and forcing you to look at yourself again. You can’t help but whine, but it melts into something languid as he hits the bundle of nerves, sensitive from your orgasms already. “Would you still have wandered into the forest that night?”

No, your mind screams at you. You wouldn’t have stumbled into the woods at all, had you had a choice, if you had known that he would be on the other side of that moonlit path. You would’ve much rather suffered in the human lands instead of letting him slowly set your soul on fire like this.

“Stop,” you cry, chest tight as you’re reminded of that night. You clamp your hands onto his, trying to claw his fingers from your body, but he’s unrelenting, distracting you with a kiss.

“There is no stopping this. I am going to be your pleasure, your pain, your laughter, and your solace. No one is going to worship you like I do. I am going to give you everything you need or nothing you want if you command it. I am the court that you thrive in and the home you never want to leave. I’m going to be the first thing that you see when the sun cracks through these windows and the last thing you see when the moon kisses the sky. I’m going to be the air that you breathe, the blood in your veins, until your beating heart stops by my lips and my lips alone.” 

Your fingers twist tighter in his dark locks as you cum hard, his words consuming you. His sharp canines scrape against the skin of your throat and it only adds to the arousing sensation that’s wracking through your body. You’re shaking, unable to form dizzy thoughts into a coherent sentence as he continues his ministrations, so deeply into you that you swear you can feel him in your throat. 

His confession, an onslaught of utter dominance, utter need. Azriel said it not as if you have an option in the matter. You’re going to be his and he’s going to give you everything you’ve yearned for but nothing in the human lands could ever compare. And even though you’ve hated the very marrow in his bones since you’ve met him, you can admit that the feeling of being wanted with every fiber of someone’s being is…nice.

“Azriel,” you cry, tears spilling down your cheeks. He licks them away with a growl. His thrusts are long and hard and he doesn’t slow, if anything, the clenching of your cunt around his cock as you cum again makes him move faster, harsher, because he’s going to take as many orgasms from you as he can until you’re so fucked out you won’t be able to try and escape. “Please.” 

Your fingers are trembling from where they’ve fallen to your sides, digging deeply into his hips as you hold onto him for dear life. He smothers your mouth, stealing a kiss that ravages you, but you’re keening and whimpering against his lips from the sensitivity. “Take it, crow. I’m not done with you yet.”

But you can’t, not even when his fingers find your clit and start to rub soft circles, working you up again. You writhe against the sensation, drawing your fingers up in long scratches against the perfectly tan skin. It does nothing but spur him on, and with his mouth pressed firmly against yours, you resort to the only thing you can think of that might get him to stop.

You bite him. 

Hard. 

Azriel grunts, hips faltering once, before he buries himself deeply into you. You can feel the splitting on his skin, the burst of blood on your tongue, and his hands are snaking up your body and grabbing hold of your breasts, tweaking your nipples once before he’s ripping his mouth from yours. His eyes are dark, pupils thick and you swallow the heady mouthful of blood harshly, realizing that your actions haven’t upset him in the slightest. 

He looks…hungrier.

“Did that satisfy you, crow?” 

Your breath sticks in your throat, watching intently as his tongue darts out to lap up the stray blood. The sight of it reminds you of how he was between your legs, licking up your wetness like it was somehow better than the blood he lives off of. 

It makes your cunt clench and his grin turns purely wild, showing off those sharp teeth, painted crimson.

Azriel manhandles you to the floor, ignoring your whimpers and pleas for him to stop. Your cunt hurts, but the warmth dripping between your legs with his hot cock pressed tightly inside of you feels all too good. 

His heavy body pins you face down. He’s a warm wight, and his hand slides around your throat, lifting your head and forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror. You look utterly wrecked; fucked out beyond belief. Tears staining your reddened cheeks, lips swollen from the harsh kiss you’ve shared with the vampire plastered to your back. Your hair is a knot at the top of your head, unruly from his relentless pulling. You can see the imprint of his hand against your skin when Azriel holds your neck firmer, pinching off your airflow to cut off your incessant pleaing.

Even though your body feels like giving out, the way the new position makes his cock fit into you causes you to see stars. It could quite possibly be the lack of air you’re able to take in, dark suns bursting behind your eyelids, but his cock is hitting every spot that you need, and the hand planted beside your head snakes down to rub through the slickness between your thighs again, right to your clit.

Azriel’s not gentle. His motions become jerkier, breath heavy against your cheek as his orgasm builds. He’s losing control, and fast. He pinches your clit before soothing it over with a brush of his thumb, and he nips at your skin, softly at first, then harsher, but not drawing blood, never drawing blood because he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to stop himself should he get a taste of you. 

He’ll drink you fucking dry if he does.

Black smothers your vision and you can hardly see yourself in the mirror. Your hands are pinned beneath your body, completely at his disposal. But there’s another orgasm building with his fervent fingers and raucous thrusts. Against your better mind, you cum again, harder than the last. 

Azriel groans, releasing your neck from his grasp, letting your body slacken as he plants both hands to drive into you until he’s falling over the edge himself, crowing your name with a caw that rattles the walls of his aging manor. Your body goes slack as you gasp, the rush of air adding to the deliverance of what you hope to be your final orgasm of the night. 

He leans in close, breathing a caress of darkness against the shell of your ear. 

“You are my solace, am I not yet yours?”

[rafecameronsslxt]

Please make a part 2 to forbidden touch

Stepbrother! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: After so many months of teasing you find your stepbrother Rafe masturbating with your panties.

Minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, taboo themes, stepcest, called bitch, nicknames like stepbrother, stepsister, and stepbrother, teasing, p in v, and grinding.

A/N: I hope this doesn't seem too rushed, but they did get a happy ending!

Part one

You tried to push him away, you did, but he wouldn’t leave. It was supposed to be a night of releasing pent-up tension- or that’s what you told yourself, and now Rafe can’t keep his hands off you. It wasn’t just sex, Rafe confided in you. He told you things he’d never tell anyone else, and you replicated his gestures and late-night talks. Your friends started to notice how close you and Rafe had become, and so did your Mother. She was delighted that Rafe had someone to talk to, for him to have such a good sister like you. 

   You put your hands on Rafe’s chest to stop him from kissing you. “Rafe, we can’t do this anymore before- before we get attached. I’m serious.” You were lying through your teeth. He knew it because you were already attached. “I thought we inferred that you were a good sister. Can’t fuck your stepbrother one more time, baby.” His veiny hand makes its way up your thigh and unbuttons your shorts. He slips his hand under your panties, gliding his finger over your slit before easing his middle finger into you. “You like that sister?” The nickname only made you wetter. You nod, leaning to kiss him, but he pushes you away and removes his finger from your cunt. You rub your thighs concurrently, whining. 

   Rafe lays you back against your pillows, his body between your legs, his erection pressed against your pussy. “You’re going to kiss me next time like a good stepsister?” He grabs your jaw, lips pushing together as you choke out a desperate yes, grinding your hips onto his. Rafe presses his mouth to yours and spits saliva angrily into your mouth, and you swallow it like a good stepsister. Despite your neediness, you pretend to gently run your hands through Rafe’s dishevelled hair but tug his head back, watching him smile sinisterly. This week Rafe has had a temper hence the anger already shared in the few seconds, and you always let him use you. So it was time to have a switch. Until you hear your Mother’s voice from the other side, causing you to stiffen up. “Yeah, Mom?” You call out while Rafe kisses your jaw, only to find your sweet spot for you to moan quietly. “I need to talk to you.” You yell out okay.

   “Rafe Cameron, the bathroom now!” You whisper-scream at him because he won’t stop kissing you. Then, finally, you push him by the butt to get in there, rolling your eyes after.

   You compose yourself before opening the bedroom door, taking deep breaths and buttoning up your shorts. “Mom, what do you want to talk about?” You smile, both of you sitting on the bed where you were grinding onto Rafe. “I know you and Rafe have been becoming closer, and I just want you to be careful because he can be…” She rubs her neck, giving you a slight smile and obvious ‘mom’ advice. All girls should be wary around Rafe because the next thing you know, you're having sex with him every day. 

   “But, I also wanted you to know that me and Ward aren’t doing so hot right now.” You try not to look happy because your mom is heartbroken, but you choke on your spit, wheezing until your breath becomes stable. She gives you a worried look but brushes it off. “I’m hoping it’ll work out, but I’m exhausted after this long day.” You yawn on cue, eyes saddening for your mom's convenience. You walk her out to the hall. “Night, love you.” You shut and lock your bedroom door, jump onto Rafe excitedly, and wrap your legs around his waist. You kiss all over his face as he laughs. 

   He lightly throws you into the bed and quickly throws your shorts and panties to the wooden floor. You unbuckle his bed and slide his khakis off with his boxers, letting his cock lay against your abdomen. “I’m not fucking you.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a light kiss on them. You furrow your brows, confused. “But we got good news.” You sigh, irritated. Of course, Rafe had to be stubborn today. 

   Rafe rubs his tip up and down your folds, putting extra pressure on your clit. Your hands grasp the sheets until your knuckles turn white, and the only oxygen you can breathe is his because his mouth is sealed to yours. He pulls away. “C’mon, rub yourself on me since you decided to be a bitch today.” His gravelly voice whispers, biting your bottom lip, creating an indent from his teeth. 

   You’re so desperate that you oblige. You lower your cunt on Rafe’s erection, and every bulging vein is more prominent as you stroke his cock with your pussy, adding to the pleasure of his tip slightly curving up into you, but he doesn’t let it happen. “Just one thrust. Please, baby.” You pout sweetly, throwing your hands around his neck, legs shuddering just for Rafe to look conceited. He pulls your shirt off, sucking on your nipples that turn sensitive too quickly. “Rafe, please. I need you.” You say tersely, and you see him deciding whether he should. Finally, he does—one deep but profound thrust as you cry out in pleasure, covering your mouth quickly. 

   You knew you would barely last a minute because of his teasing. The bed squeaks with each movement, and your breasts bounce as Rafe pounds into you unmercifully. Finally, his hand rubs quick circles on your clit, and you are gone. Your eyes roll back, pussy spasming around his cock, and long lines of ripped skin on Rafe’s taut back. 

   A month later, you’re completely moved out of the Camerons' house and back into the comfort of your home. Fortunately, your feelings for Rafe didn’t leave but grew more assertive, leading to a secret relationship until it reached figure eight, and everyone knew. At first, you weren’t on speaking terms with most of your friends, but they later accepted it, saying more than needed kinky things about your relationship with Rafe. 

   You could call it a happy ending for now.

[mamayan]

20, 92, 52, 99

Could you do this with Douma and a fem reader pretty please? Also very many congratulations!

Bang! … No bullet was shot—

Douma

“You’re pathetic, you know that right?” || Taste of Iron || Size || Praise/Worship

tw: NSFW • Biting (Blood play) • Rough Sex • Corruption K!nk • NONCON • Douma doesn’t stfu • Bondage

wc: 1086

“Ah~ really though, there’s nothing more wonderful than when you’re like this for me,” his voice was a soothing purr as he trails one cold hand up the smooth expanse of your thigh.

Luminescent rainbow eyes gazed down at your fragile figure tied and helpless. A pretty silk gag knotted and slotted into your mouth prevents any retorts.

“My most naughty little follower, are you enjoying this?” He wasn’t truly asking to hear your answer, more fixated on how much he was enjoying this. He could feel it, the blood and vitality rushing through your veins as adrenaline pumped and kept you acutely aware of every touch he placed on you. The fear and clarity in your gaze which the majority of his cult never figured out until it was far far too late.

You saw something you weren’t supposed to, and sadly, that meant you couldn’t be allowed to separate and mingle without him.

Tears flow down your cheeks as you struggle, bound and powerless under the beautiful male.

He was a fraud. A liar. A monster.

None of it mattered now, not when he’d sunken his claws too deeply into your family and friends to save them. You couldn’t even save yourself it seemed.

“Don’t cry sweet thing~ I’m not going to eat you~” yet, his smile was disarming, blatantly lying to your pretty face as he coos and hushes you.

“You’ve always been my favorite, you know? It makes me so sad to think about harming you, so we’ll do something else instead, okay~♡?” The cute way he spoke didn’t match Douma’s large body as he discarded his top, muscular unblemished figure on display.

He easily settled between your spread thighs, enjoying the view of your dripping pussy while you silently begged for mercy. “Such a shame I had to muffle your cute voice…” he laments to himself, nuzzling your soft inner thigh with his face and enjoying the texture of your skin. “I kind of want to hear you scream for me but, oh well,” he gives no warning before his sharp teeth are sinking into the flesh of your thigh, your pained squeal silenced by the fabric stuffed into your mouth. Douma delights in the blood and mark on your body, his mark, as he laps up the small rivers leaking from the puncture wounds he’d given. “Shh, no need to cry, I just wanted a taste,” he giggles, beautiful blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at his handiwork. His large hands shift, moving to your exposed cunt where he uses two fingers to spread your folds and reveal your small wet hole.

“I just knew you’d like this~!” You flinch away from the image above you, his lips stained with your blood, sharp canines on display as he grins.

He pays no mind to your repulsion, soon you’d come to like the blood as he did, he just needed to show you why it all felt so good.

“Y/N, sorry, I’ll prepare you much better next time, but I want to see you bleed a little more me, yeah? You’ll be a good girl won’t you?” Douma ignores the shake of your head, the clear useless struggle you attempt against your bindings. Instead, he loosens his belt and allows his pants to drop past his upper thighs, releasing his hardened cock.

“I promise it’ll feel good after a bit, just be patient.” He assures, voice so calm and patient compared to your panic and trembling body. “Your pussy is so cute Y/N, tiny like you, it might hurt a bit.” You imagine it’s going to hurt more than a bit as he lines himself up with your quivering unprepared entrance. The thick blunt head pressed and kissing you, pre-cum leaking freely from his tip, the only lubricant he’s offering as he presses forward.

You jerk, unable to voice the pressure overwhelming you as he takes you, mind going hazy with the burn and sensations forced upon you.

“Oh my, hng,” his head goes back, muscles tensing and flexing as he moans. “This hole is pretty naughty too, hm?” He gasps, voice strained for the first time all evening, “You’re so tight, it’s like you're sucking me in.”

He laughs when he realizes you’re nearly passed out, sweet features languid and drool soaking through the gag as you whine deep in your throat. He doesn’t stop, thick cock spearing you open as he rocks and slicks himself up with your arousal and blood from his initial cruel entrance.

“My cute little follower, it’s almost like you’re worshiping my cock now right? Isn’t it a dream come true for you?” He’s gleeful as he begins dragging along inside of your walls, rocking you with how heavy each thrust is. He delights in your struggle to resist, but it’s clear you’re falling quickly to the feeling of fullness and pleasure as your passage becomes wetter with each slap of his pelvis against you.

“Good girl, you don’t need to do a thing, just feel good for me.” You don’t have a choice as he fucks you sensesless, eyes rolling back as you cum around him with a silent shout. His hips don’t stop, only his moans and nails digging into your hips increase while he works himself deep and hard into you, savoring the scent of iron in the air while blood smears on his lower half and cock.

“Ah, you came right? How cute,” he coos, loving your cock drunk appearance juxtaposed to your earlier fear and revulsion of him. “You’re pathetic, you know that right? Do you still want me to stop?” He chuckles, hand reaching up and untying the gag, pulling the dripping wad of fabric out of your mouth. “Answer me quickly, do you still want me to stop?” He asks, voice deepening as he rams the head of his cock against an area that has you wailing.

“L-Lord Do-Douma please—!” He twists one of your nipples harshly, loving the pretty arch your back makes as you clench and spasm around him again.

“That’s not an answer~” he coos, your pretty eyes unfocused as you drool and babble after your orgasm.

“Don’t—! Don’t stop! Fuck me! Please!” You’re quick to lose yourself, pleasure consuming you as he rocks you on his cock and thumbs your clit with a smug grin.

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, glad he doesn’t have to kill you earlier than he’d planned.

You are his favorite after all.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

@desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi

[tiredenby98]

The Morning After(Cole Brookstone x Gender Neutral Reader)

Yippee another one shot! Somehow wrote this one in one sitting lol(and because of that I didn't really proofread).

Anyways warnings for this one shot: Suggestive themes

Reader wakes up after a night with Cole and panics. (As always requests are open!!)

I groaned, my body turning in the bed. I slowly pulled myself up into a sitting position yawning. I looked down, my eyes widening at my bare body. “What…?”

I grumbled and then sat up in realization as my eyes caught sight of the raven haired boy sleeping peacefully beside me. The events of the night before finally hit me and my face was burning as I scrambled to get up from the bed. “God, what have I done…?” 

I scold myself bitterly, searching desperately for my discarded clothes. Thankfully they weren’t too far off from the bed and scooped them up quickly. I throw them on, cursing as I struggle to pull the shirt over my head. “Where are you going…?” hummed a sleepy voice from behind me, causing me to freeze in my tracks.

Cole had woken up, his locks of hair disheveled and his bare chest on full display. I thanked the First Spinjitzu Master that his bottom half was covered by the comforter. He looks me over with a frown on his face, “Are you leaving?” 

“I was just uh…heading off to training!” I say lying through my teeth and laughing nervously.

He looks over at the clock on the bedside table and then raises an eyebrow at me “Training isn’t for another hour…What’s up with you?” 

He takes the blanket off and gets up walking towards me. 

My face goes red now that he is no longer covered “Nothing! I’m just uh…tired?” I offer with a forced smile. 

He is now standing before me looking me up and down and a smile creeps its way onto his face as he realizes something. “Oh my god are you embarrassed?” He lets out a loud laugh.

I scoff in defense, “No! Maybe…” I whisper the last part. 

His grin grows wider, snaking his arms around my waist. “Aw don’t be embarrassed hun…” 

He teases, arms giving me a small squeeze. I pushed him away slightly, “We were too impulsive…this was a bad idea.” I ramble, beginning to pace.

I can feel his eyes on me as I pace the room, “I mean what will the team think and oh god forget the team Master Wu will give us a whole lecture about relationships on the team-'' I bury my face in my hands and groan loudly. 

Cole sighs and walks over to me, “One the team doesn’t need to know and they won’t if we don’t say anything. And two…just ignore Master Wu, he’s an old man he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

I shake my head “This was a mistake…”

Upon hearing this Cole gives me an incredulous look before taking my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “I don’t regret it at all and I find it hard to believe that you do.”

I sigh heavily, leaning my face into his touch. “I’m sorry I’ve just never…done this before.” I mumbled out a bit embarrassed. 

He looks at me in surprise, his own face tinted red now. “Why didn’t you tell me that? If I had known it was your first time I would’ve- done better? I don’t know?!” He groans in frustration this time walking away from me and flopping down onto the bed.

I let out a laugh, of course out of everything this is what he was worried about. This brings a soft smile to my face and I take a seat next to him on the bed, his head turning to look at me. I look away, cheeks red. “You were really amazing if that helps…” 

“Really?” His eyes brighten a bit and his smile returns. 

I nod shyly and he throws his arms around me, tackling me down onto the bed. “Cole!” I yelp in surprise. 

He just smiles and kisses me all over my face. I laugh loudly, trying to push him off but failing. He finally ceases his attack and settles on just looking at me fondly, our bodies tangled up in the mess of blankets. We lay there for a bit and he pulled me closer, humming in thought. “You…you’re not sore are you…?” 

I paused, taken aback by the question. “Uh no I don’t think so…? I feel fine.”

He lets out a sigh of relief and nestles his head into the crook of my neck.

I craned my neck to look over at the clock noticing the time, shaking Cole slightly. “Cole we have like five minutes until training, we should get dressed.”

He groans into the crook of my neck. “Just a few more minutes.” He pleads. 

I’m about to protest when there’s a knock at the door, causing me to freeze.

“Cole, make sure you are out for training soon! Sensei will be pissed if you're not and I am not doing extra reps just because you slept in!!” Yelled an annoyed Jay from the other side of the door. 

Cole made eye contact with me and rolled his eyes, moving off of me. “Yeah yeah be out in a sec!” He yells back just as annoyed. 

“I’m holding you to that!” Jay yells again before leaving. 

Cole grumbles “He’s so goddamn annoying.” 

I smirk at him, “Told you we had to get up for training.”

He responds with a roll of his eyes, “Yeah yeah whatever.” 

Already half dressed it takes me a total of 10 seconds to pull on the rest of my clothes, Cole still trying to find his. “I’ll meet you out there.” I say giving him a quick kiss before heading off.

[mirisss]

Cuddling with Ampers&One

Ampers&One x reader

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! 

Wordcount ≈ 923

Warnings: None I think

Na Kamden 

Kamden is the type of guy who would always have an arm around you. Walking on the street? Boom, he has his arm around your shoulders or your waist, sometimes when it’s more convenient he’ll hold your hand. Movie night with the friend group? Kamden’s arm is around you. It brings him comfort to hold you in his arms, knowing you’re close and can’t be separated. 

When it’s just the two of you, home alone, on the couch, Kamden loves to cuddle with him laying on his back and you on his chest. He will run his fingers through your hair and every now and then, he will strain his neck to give you a kiss on the head. 

He Brian

Brian is more for subtle touches in daily life, no more than holding hands out in the open. Walking beside each other, only your pinky fingers touching each other as the two of you share nervous smiles. It doesn’t matter if you have been together for only a week or 5 years, you’re both as innocent as ever. 

Though when you are home alone, in the comfort of your home, Brian loves to hug you, back hugs are his favorite as he whispers in your ear or sings your favorite song lowly as you dance around the kitchen. In bed, Brian is the type to rest his head on your chest as you fall asleep, his arms tightly wrapped around you as he listens to the beating of your heart. 

Choi Jiho

Jiho is a wild card when it comes to cuddling or skinship in public. Some days he will keep an arms length between the two of you no matter what and other days he will be hanging on to you as if he would die without having you pressed against him. 

In the safety of your home, Jiho will be all over you. If you’re in the kitchen, he’s back-hugging you, if you’re brushing your teeth, he’s back-hugging you, any time he can he will be giving you a back hug. In bed, he will love spooning, but also sleeping in the sweetheart’s cradle. Any position where he can hold you in his arms, he loves. 

Yoon Siyun

Siyun will be a bit more reserved in public, however, he will hold your hand. It feels safer that way, especially if you’re out walking on the street, he has to hold your hand or he will worry that the two of you will become separated. In front of the boys, he can hug you and maybe a quick kiss every now and then. 

At home, Siyun is still a little more reserved than some of the others. He wishes he was as bold as Jiho or Mackiah but it feels weird to be so clingy, but eventually as your relationship grows he will become braver and more comfortable. When sleeping, he prefers the two of you laying beside each other and just your hands touching. 

Choi Kyrell

Kyrell will be really shy at first but try to act bold. He will watch different romance movies and series to try and get some tips on how to act romantic with physical touches. Each movie and series will give him a number of moves to try, however whenever it comes to it, he always gets to nervous to actually try it. One of the few things he managed was the “helping you reach something on the highest shelf”, it wasn’t intentional though but when he came into the kitchen you were trying to reach a certain mug that Kamden accidentally put on the wrong shelf, so Kyrell walked over and reached over you to get the mug. You were in awe of his action but Kyrell only smiled and handed you the mug. 

Even at home alone, when it comes to sleeping, Kyrell is a bit shy, so you often have to initiate the cuddling but once you have initiated it, you’re stuck. Because he won’t let go until he truly has to. He will lock you in his arms and keep you there until the morning. 

Mercer Mackiah

Mackiah is similar to Kamden, he must have some sort of skin contact at all times. Mackiah will hold your hand wherever you guys are, have an arm around you, and drape himself over you from behind, he’d put you in his pocket if he could. 

When the two of you are lying in bed, about to sleep, Mackiah has to spoon you because he can’t sleep unless he’s holding you tight and close. He will also give you about a thousand kisses on the neck and the head before falling asleep. 

Kim Seungmo

He’s the youngest but one of the boldest when it comes to PDA, he just doesn’t care what others think. If he wants to hold your hand, he will, if he wants to hug you, he will, if he wants to kiss you, he will. The only time he is embarrassed is around the other boys, mostly because they tease him, but he still holds your hand/hugs/kisses you. 

When it comes to sleeping, Seungmo will either fall asleep on top of you, spooning you, or in the sweetheart’s cradle. He loves falling asleep on top of you, with his head on your chest and with one of your hands scratching his head.

[devieuls]

Hello can I plz request Inazuma boys (if you can) react (separately) to their s/o wearing this outfit? Spicy reaction plz! It's ok if no tho! :)

Inazuma boys x ¡ FEM reader !

Synopsis: On a sultry day in the middle of summer, you decided to dress in opaque clothes that left a lot of skin to the eye, presenting yourself to your boyfriend as if you were not leaving the house naked (in their eyes, ofc).

Characters: Itto, Kazuha, Thoma, Scaramouche, Gorou, Ayato, Heizou

Note: I didn’t really know how to play this choice of clothes, but I tried in every way to stay in the personality of the characters, forgive me if you won’t read exactly what you wanted. I don’t know, some have inspired me more than others. I remember that they are not native English speakers, so forgive my mistakes and feel free to correct me. Also the requests are open to all, maybe it takes a while to answer but I do it without problems!

........................................

Itto:

The hot summer day was slowly killing your energetic boyfriend, finding him lying on the floor with his faithful pet Ushi, as he waves energetically with one of your fans, complaining through some of them about the heat that made him sweat.

< Honey, would you like to go to the beach? I know that you suffer the heat and I’m sorry to make you stay at home agonizing > You said bending down to him, to better look at his agonizing face and his eyes closed.

You had to take a few steps back because of the guy who had jumped up from happiness, mentally preparing for long swims in cold water.

< Love! you don't know how much I love you- > His smile froze once seen with what clothes you were going to leave the house. His heart accelerated rapidly as he pumped blood throughout his still-euphoric body. < Is the temperature that’s so hot or is it you? > he growled gently before approaching you, taking you from the hips and leaving a gentle kiss on your lips.

You blushed as you kissed the boy back, feeling his hands wandering over your body, touching him with extreme delicacy and devotion.

< How stupid are you! Do you like it? is great for very hot seasons > You said laughing as you wrapped your arms around her neck, putting yourself on tiptoe because of the height difference.

< Oh, you’re the "very hot season" now. I mean… > he coughed and cleared his voice < honey… you’re so… wonderful. > He said looking you in the eye, holding you close to him. Her hands ended up on your ass and she picked you up and headed for the room. < But. I can’t let you just walk out. You created a big problem in my pants and now the heat is not the only thing that makes me agonize. > He ended by lying on the bed, then tying his hair in a tail and looking at your body practically exposed to him. < God, I’d eat you for hours. >

You blushed as the boy only stayed with the leather body harness and choker, perfectly displaying his red tattoos, before getting on the bed and taking off your clothes.

Glad to see you didn’t wear a bra and take off your panties with his teeth. < We’re going to the beach tomorrow. We've better things to do. > He would say giving you a smile before disappearing between your legs.

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

Kazuha :

You could say you loved living on a pirate ship, traveling all the time, discovering new things and always being in good company, but above all you loved having your boyfriend on the crew.

You found your boyfriend sitting in front of his desk, writing something while humming something low, wearing a light crumpled kimono that leaving his collarbones and shoulder bare.

You approached him carefully, placing your arms on his shoulders and leaving a kiss on his neck, peering at what he was writing.

< Love, what do you write? > You moaned against her soft skin.

< Nothing important. Where have you been all morning? I looked for you but no one saw you, I was worried. > He said to then turn to you, closing the notebook he was writing on, and then swallowing to see the top you were wearing.

< Oh, Captain Beidou kidnapped me for the morning. She said she had clothes to withstand the heat of inazuma, as my usual clothes are " a bit heavy and covering". Do you… do you like me? am I okay? > You asked away from him to take a ride on yourself to see the boy.

Kazuha’s eyes followed your entire body, biting his lip and then getting up and grabbing your hand for a twirl.

< You are a blessing to the eyes. Whatever you wear can only feel good > He said gently, and then kiss the palm of your hand. You smiled and then looked at the boy’s bare chest and shoulder, blushing because of some sinful thoughts that were going through your mind.

Kazuha noticed it and stroked your cheek with slightly reddened knuckles.

< I’m thinking the same things about you, princess. > He said to then drop his hand on your neck, then on your breasts and end up on the crotch of your shorts. He sighed before making you back to the bed and take off his kimono completely, immediately going to touch your breasts and squeeze a nipple already hard. < Maybe, today the captain will do without our presence. > he said smiling and then start biting and sucking your neck.

-----------

Thoma :

He wouldn’t even give you time to leave the room to be seen with the new dress, as he would rush into the bedroom to watch you try on the outfit, excited to see you with new and "strange" clothes.

He swallowed seeing your thighs exposed like that, feeling already tight in his pants and cursing himself for not having enough self-control to collapse like this, unfortunately you were his weakest point and some points, like your thighs, they drove him crazy.

< Love, are you all red in your face… are you.. are you all right? > You asked approaching him worried, while you laid a hand on his burning cheeks.

< No, I’m not okay. You’re so hot you made me hard in seconds. I would like to be more cavalier not to say certain things directly but… dressed so, my head does nothing but think about how satisfying it would be to fuck you right now > he said everything in a frustrated tone.

You sat on his lap, raising his face and grinning maliciously.

< And that’s exactly what I wanted > You answered and then kissed him and made him smile as he put his hands under your top behind your back, raising it slowly.

< You really like to tease me > he said by biting his lip, then passing a finger on your column, making you pant slightly, seizing the moment to overturn the positions and put yourself under him. < Then you’ll get what you want. >

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

Scaramouche :

The boy looked at you with a bored face, rolling his eyes as you wandered around the house looking for various things to go out. He stood silently against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest and clearly crushed. Even though he wasn’t showing it, seeing you dressed like that had the blood pumping towards his cock, making it hard.

< You’re really a stupid brat. How long do you take to prepare? > He said grumbling loudly, bringing his eyes to the ceiling, clearly shattered by the time you were wasting him.

< I can’t find my fan. It was the only one I had. I’ll die under the sun of inazuma without that! > You said almost whining, looking for him everywhere and hoping that your boyfriend had a little more patience.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche was thinking about how naive you were not to have yet realized that he had your fan and this to keep you from leaving the house dressed like this. He would never admit he was jealous, so he preferred to play dirty with you.

The boy walked up to you and took you like a sack of potatoes, taking you to the bedroom with a puff. < I’ve had enough. we stay home. > He said to then get between your legs and hold your body with one hand, making you blush. < Plus, dressed like that, you made my dick hard, so you gotta fix it, baby girl. > He concluded by smirking maliciously as he took off your black shorts, sticking two fingers inside you, making you grab behind him and pant. < You’re so naive you didn’t realize right away that I had the fucking fan. Don’t worry baby, you won’t need it for a long time >

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

Gorou :

You knew your boyfriend couldn’t stand the summer heat, having dog blood in his veins he also shared this unpleasant trait with them, not to mention the fact that he went into heat at that time; which made him frustrated and stressed.

You watched your boyfriend as he stood on the ground in front of the fan, with some wet rags that were attached to his body to cool him down and lower the temperature on his body. < Baby, would you bring me some water with ice? I feel I’m going to die… > He said exasperated, placing a new cold patch on his forehead. Sweat continued to sweat down his bare chest, while his trousers were slightly lowered under his hips.

You nodded and quickly brought water to your boyfriend, it made you sad to see him in those conditions, you were used to his strong and determined personality.

< Can I do something else for you? maybe a swim on the beach could help… don’t you think? > You said looking at him gently, as you removed a warm patch from his belly, touching his burning skin.

The boy opened his eyes to answer you and remained speechless to see you dressed like that, beginning to wag his tail flapping on the wooden floor, embarrassing himself at once for his tail that could not hide his excitement.

< Oh, fuck, kitten… I’m fighting so hard against my heat and you come dressed like that… You don't help this way > He said passing a hand three white strands of his hair, slightly moist because of sweat and wet rag.

He stood up promptly to go towards you and take you to the bed, beginning to kiss your neck with fury, leaving various hickeys and bites. < Forgive me for being more rude than usual, but I need you out of those clothes… > he whisped on your neck.

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

Ayato :

Ayato was definitely the type of boyfriend who even during the hot summer days, preferred to dress with a certain decorum. Being the heir of the Kamisato family, appearances mattered and showing themselves in public in inappropriate clothing would have created ill news about him. In fact, when he saw you leaving the room you used as a wardrobe dressed in shorts and tops he froze you with his eyes, you knew very well how much clothing mattered to him and seeing you so "naked" to go out, he had destabilized.

You immediately heard the servants' looks at you and some of the maids mumbling something, while in the distance you could see the amused look of Ayaka and the distraught one of Thoma taking tea with miss Kamisato.

Your look was later kidnapped by Ayato’s, intense and angry, his hand squeezed the bubble tea as if to relieve the anger he had accumulated in those few seconds, trying to disguise everything with a smile as he headed towards you. He pushed you into the room and closed the door behind him, towering over your person, placed the drink on a shelf and then took your face from your chin.

< Baby, I don’t understand. I thought I told you to get dressed to go out, not be a slut in the bedroom with me. > He said by making you back up to the wall, slamming your palm against the hard surface, gritting his teeth. < Now everyone will be talking about you in indecent clothing. The future Mrs Kamisato who shows up inadequately dressed outside her rooms. Not to mention the men who saw what belongs to me. > he continued, his free hand ripping your top off, leaving your breasts uncovered.

You had to admit, you wanted to tease him slightly dressed like that, on the advice of his sister, but you wouldn’t have expected this.

< This is all mine. I can’t let others admire it. > He said and then stooped over you and kissed your breasts. < You already know where I want to end up with you. You embarrassed me by showing you dressed like that. Now I’ll make sure you scream until the whole building hears your voice and understands what we’re doing. Didn’t you want this? > he said smirking maliciously.

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

Heizou :

The dark red-haired had already noticed those garments in your closet a few days before, but he had not listened to that littleness, thinking that they were simply clothes to stay at home and face the heat. Being a detective, he was often in a position to have no time to focus on small things in his house and let it go, attaching plausible and simple reasons to such events.

.

After a busy morning because of work, he was particularly surprised to find you bent over a piece of furniture while you were dusting it, especially for the shorts that left your b side in plain sight. You had just returned from a morning commission and had decided not to change to clean the house, waiting for your boyfriend towards the late afternoon.

You gasped to feel a familiar touch on your hips, followed by some kisses on your shoulder and neck. < Mh, there is nothing more divine than to enter the house and see you bent to ninety and dressed like this > said the boy and then let you stand, red on your face.

< W-why are you home so early? > you asked and then turned to him, hiding your face on his chest, slightly embarrassed by the position in which he found you.

< I finished early. But I haven’t finished work yet after this, who knows what you’re hiding under your clothes. I wouldn’t be a good detective if I didn’t investigate thoroughly. I wonder what color panties I’m going to rip off today. > he said taking you in his arms, leaving a small spanking on your ass, walking towards the bedroom. < You don’t wear a bra, I can feel it. What a naughty girl, I’ll have to cuff you for that. >

[rebelspykatie]

Rushin’ through me like a fire Part 3

A Steddie Club AU

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

“You bought a bar, but you don’t like people?” Steve tilts his head curiously. 

“I’m an enigma, I know.” He flaps his hands around. “My Uncle Wayne always told me I’m as crazy as a rainbow trout in a car wash.” He laughs at the face Steve makes and scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, I never really understood what that meant either until I bought this place. Got in over my head with it all and it takes a lot of work to keep it running. Should’ve known better than to buy a bar when I barely graduated high school.”

“Seems like it all worked out for you, though,” Steve looks around appreciatively, as if he’s not already well acquainted with these fours walls. “Robin and I love coming here. It’s our favorite place. Unless we count our house.” 

Eddie cheeks flush a pretty pink color that looks delicious under the twinkling lights. “Such high praise from one of my best customers.” 

Now Steve’s blushing, ducking his head to hide his smile. He swirls his drink around in the glass. Deciding to be a bit bold, he says, “If I had known you were out here on slow nights, maybe I would’ve come in earlier in the week.” He takes a sip of his drink to stop himself from saying more.

“Are you saying little old me is enough to bring you in on a slow night?” Eddie leans forward, closing some of the space between them. It feels wholly different from when Austin did it, butterflies kicking up in his stomach and palms perspiring, instead of cold dread. The people sitting around the bar or dancing behind him have completely disappeared, his focus only on Eddie and the adorable way he’s biting his lip, playing up being coy but still looking secretly pleased at Steve’s attention. 

“I think you’d be enough to bring me in any night.” And Steve gets to watch his cheeks blossom a bright cherry red as a delighted zing of pleasure wraps itself around his heart. Perhaps he hasn’t lost his touch after all. 

“Aren’t you just a charmer?”

“Guess my lines do work, then, huh?” Steve asks, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. Pushing his luck, he asks, “Is the owner allowed to dance, or are you too busy?”

Before Eddie has a chance to answer, Gareth leans over his shoulder and says, “He’s not too busy.” Eddie elbows Gareth in the ribs. Gareth ignores him. “Go on, boss. Have fun for once.” 

Steve hesitantly adds, “It’s ok if you don’t want to. The rejection won’t crush me or anything.” And so what if he’s lying through his teeth and it would definitely crush him completely if Eddie backed away from him after all the electricity he felt between them? He’ll keep that to himself.

“No rejection here, sweetheart,” Eddie sheepishly grins. He drags Gareth away with him by the arm, both of them whispering feverishly to each other as Eddie rounds the end of the bar. The hairs on his neck stand at attention knowing that they’re definitely talking about him, but he tries to stay focused on Eddie agreeing to dance with him. 

With one last exasperated look, Gareth turns Eddie around by the shoulders and frog marches him over to Steve, who has hopped down from the bar stool to wait patiently along the edge of the dance floor. 

“He’s all yours, Steve,” Gareth smirks and pushes Eddie forward with a little shove, then runs back behind the bar to continue helping customers. 

“We really don’t have to, if you’re that uncomfortable,” Steve says once more, making sure that Eddie doesn’t feel pressured into anything. 

“It’s not you,” Eddie glances at the dance floor, eyes nervously darting around. “I wasn’t kidding before. People make me nervous. I’m not used to anyone touching me unless they’ve known me since I was in diapers.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I won’t be very good at all of that.” He gestures towards the bodies moving together. 

“It’s not really about being a good dancer. At least, not for me,” Steve shrugs. “I like the release I get when I just let the music take over and it drains all of the stress out of my body.” 

Eddie has turned away from the crowd, staring intently at Steve’s face. “You’re still a good dancer, though.” 

“Are you admitting that you’ve watched me on those cameras of yours?” Steve can’t help the way his heart races at the thought. He wants to be the center of Eddie’s attention.

“I saw you earlier with that idiot,” Eddie tries to argue, but his cheeks are rosy and he looks a little skittish. Hard to tell if that’s a lie or if he really is that nervous. 

Steve reaches out to grab Eddie’s hand, keeping eye contact and hesitating for a second, waiting on Eddie to give him an approving nod. He wraps a hand around Eddie’s and takes a step closer. “You know what else I love about dancing?” 

It’s almost too dark to catch, but Eddie’s eyes flick down to his mouth. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and Eddie’s eyes track the movement, giving Steve a rush of confidence. 

“What?” Eddie asks, a bit dazed, like he barely heard Steve. 

“How it lets you get close to someone.” He takes another step closer. “You can feel heat passing between bodies.” Another step. “The way the beat runs through your veins down to your hips.” He places a hand on Eddie’s hip and can actually see the full body shudder run through Eddie. “You can pretend like there’s no one else in the room.”

Eddie nods along, eyes glazed over and focused on Steve’s mouth, like he’s hanging on every word.

As the song changes, the beat switches to something softer, a little slower. A sensual jazzy undertone that makes him want to turn off the lights and move his body in time with someone else. It’s exactly the opening Steve needs.

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

[loveandfictionforall]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could take this request! I thought maybe a oneshot (platonic!Dale Horvath x fem!reader)

So it’s set in season 2 at Hershel’s farm. Shane makes her really uncomfortable by trying to get her to sleep with him, flirting with her, etc. so she hides away in Dale’s RV to try to stay away from him. Dale finds out what’s going on so he comforts her after having a talk with Shane.

If you don’t want to do this it’s totally fine!! Just lmk if you will or not so I won’t be waiting for nothing if you don’t😭

I kind of went a different route but I hope you still like it. I genuine loved your idea. Dale is often forgotten but he was a good man.

tw: mentions of harrassing, mentions of getting touched without consent

It's been a long time since you were truly sitting with Dale down. He had always been your friend, even though a lot of years separated you from each other. It had been quite a ride since arriving at the Camp. Back then you were together with Lori, Shane and Carl after knowing them for years. You used to be Carl's babysitter, actually being on duty when the apocalypse began and following Shane, Lori and Carl. You suffered through the loss of Rick, just like those three and stumbled like everybody else through the beginnings of the outbreak.

Since you were a woman, Lori and Carol got you into doing the chores with all the other women. The men went out, looking for food, clothes and medicine. You also wanted to do something. Teaching Sophia and Carl math and history wasn't really important for you but Shane always declined your wishes.

So instead you began to hide. At first it was in the woods until you got a mouthful from Shane - and even Merle. Soon you began hiding in the Camper, with a Dale always winking at you when he saw you slipping into it. When Lori, Andrea or Carol went asking, he always played his part: shaking his head and lying through his teeth, telling them where he saw you last. You never been there but it threw them off your trail. And thus, your friendship with Dale began.

Dale tried fixing his Camper with you. But unlike all those other tasks, he actually wanted you to do it, guiding you and giving you new knowledge about the workings of cars. On evenings he would invite you to sit on the roof with him, watching the stars and talking about those old times. You learned a lot about him and how his life had been. Soon you were kind of his kid - adult but also his kid. He showed you how to fish, how to skin them and even gave you his little pocket knife.

Even when Andrea began to insert herself into the friendship, Dale and you were inseparable. In the end, it would be Dale's death which would end your genuine friendship with each other. But you two didn't know that Hershel's farm would be his demise. Instead you were looking at each other with bright smiles and hope fluttering in your chest.

Sure, things were rough, especially since Rick appeared from the dead, still alive and healthy. It shook your world and made you hope that you will too see again your family. Nobody could escape the whole drama of Lori and her men but her so harshly shoving Shane away made things worse for you. You always knew that Shane looked at you sometimes a bit too long. When the world was still whole, you kind of liked it - being noticed felt good, especially by an older man with a bright career. Now it made you break out in goosebumps. Your neck hair would rise and without turning you would know that Shane would be staring at you.

It started small - a conversation here and there, a small compliment about her sharpening skills of knifes or her really good hiding skills from the other women. It still gave you the creeps but what should you do? Shane didn't to anything at first. But after Otis died, Shane changed. The crazed look in his eyes. Sometimes he would drink in the evening before he would press himself against you, his breath ghosting across your throat and cheeks. After that the touches started. It grossed you out - so much, that you tried to find a reason to sleep with Dale in the Camper. It wasn't possible, after all there was only one sport to sleep in.

But Dale knew something wasn't right.

And on one evening, while sitting together on the roof of the Camper, watching the starts you finally gave in.

"It's Shane.", would be all you would say. You still remember how Dale would straighten his back, his eyes getting serious when he turned all of his attention towards you.

"What did he do?" There wasn't doubt in his voice. It didn't waver. It was like he always knew something wasn't right with Shane. He saw Shane and knew he was danger.

"He just… He-" You could talk about it. Just thinking about it made you tear up. And finally those tears fell when Dale circled his arms around you, pressing you against his warm body, shushing softly against your frizzled hair. It just made you sob harder. In a world without any true rules and consequences, you couldn't do a thing. And even though Rick and Shane were fighting, it was his best friend, he wouldn't believe you. And Dale knew that.

So instead he gently swayed both of you while you used every strength in your body to talk and tell him about everything. Dale was your saving grace. He never doubted you.

"You will sleep in the Camper. I will take your tent." His words would have a final tone. Arguing with him would be unwise, his opinion was set in stone.

"But your back!" The small chuckle from Dale would make you smile. You always teased him with being too old.

"I think I will manage. It is far more important that you feel finally safe again."

When Dale lead you into the Camper and helped you into bed, his eyes were soft.

"You are a true blessing and you deserve to feel safe and loved. You will always be welcome with me." To be honest, it made you cry again but now they were finally happy tears.

It was a memory you never wanted to forget in this forsaken world. It would be a memory which would keep you alive, even in the toughest of moments, even after Dale died.

[late-to-the-party-81]

The Look - Chapter two

AN: Roll up, roll up for week two of Hot Bucky Summer. In this chapter our boys will be investigating a kink clbg and trying to work out if it’s right for them. Catch up with Chapter One.

Once again a big thank you to @kingofsorrow20 for beta-ing.

Buckyquín sluts, how are we feeling?

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Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Master list | HBS Master list

Summary: Joaquín worries that his desire will lose its shine now that he’s voiced it, but Bucky won’t let that happen. If his baby wants to perform in front of others, he’s gonna make sure it happens.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Joaquín Torres

Word Count: 2.2k

CW: Mean Dom Bucky Barnes, Sweet Sub Joaquín Torres, Domesticity, Developing relationship, Discussions of exhibitionism, exploring fantasies, Bucky’s dirty talk, Impact play, Masturbation, Blow jobs, voyeurism, exhibitionism

Bingos and Challenges: @buckybarnesevents HBS - Week 2 - “What should I call you?”

It had been two weeks since Quín had first raised the idea, since Bucky had taken him apart on the sofa. His boyfriend’s words and actions had sent him so far into his soft, happy place that it had taken the entire bath before he’d started to come back to himself.

Fourteen days since he’d lain on Bucky’s chest, clean and relaxed, having his still damp hair finger-combed and being asked by his boyfriend if ‘that’ was something he really wanted, or just a fantasy spoken of in the heat of the moment?

He’d been nervous at the question, because he didn’t want Bucky to think that he thought there was something lacking in their relationship, but once again Bucky proved that he could read Quín like an open book.

”There’s no right or wrong answer here, baby. I’m just curious as to whether it’s something I need to look into further. Because it’s not a ‘hard’ no from me.”

Glad that Bucky couldn’t see his face due to how they were lying, Quín idly drew invisible patterns across his boyfriend’s right shoulder, linking together errant water droplets. “Before, when we were at risk of getting caught, the idea of Sam, or one of the others - anyone -  seeing me like that…” He couldn’t suppress the full body shudder of pleasure that rolled through him just at the thought. “I knew it wouldn’t have stopped me. In fact it would have probably made me be even more into it, if that’s at all possible.”

Bucky had shifted under him then and Quín had smiled slyly as he’d felt the nudge against  his hip. 

“Okay,” Bucky had replied, obviously aiming for nonchalance. “I’ll look into it, sweetheart. If you think it’s something you wanna try, I wanna try too.”

Quín had lifted his head, trying to get a look at Bucky’s handsome face, despite the awkward angle. “Thanks, Bucky. I love you.”

Bucky’s arms had tightened around him, the world’s most feared assassin dropped a kiss to his forehead. “I know, bub.”

In that fortnight - yes, he’d been listening to TTPD, so sue him - he’d then worried that having voiced his desire it would make it wane and lose it’s urgency, but in the end the idea was just as welcome as it had been at the moment he’d spoken it out loud. Bucky had helped to see to that with the way he continued to tease and torment him. 

For instance, one evening, having just gotten out of the shower, he’d fumbled his toothbrush, dropping it on the floor, where it had rolled under the cupboard. He’d been on his knees, head down, ass up, when Bucky had snuck up behind him, announcing his presence with a sharp - right handed, thankfully - slap to his right ass cheek and then headed straight into the dirty talk.

”Damn, baby. Look at that fucking peach. Can’t wait to put that on display for people to look at. Maybe I’ll let ‘em touch you. Take turns to make it glow. Get you mewling and needy, and let them all jack off over you. Paint you like a canvas.”

Teeth cleaning forgotten for the moment, Quín had breathily asked Bucky to demonstrate. Bucky had been more than willing to oblige.

Another day, he’d been in the middle of giving Bucky a blow job, his lips stretched wide around Bucky’s veiny length, when his boyfriend had whipped out his phone, taken a picture and then held it up for Quín to see, even as he continued to choke Quín on his dick. “This is what they’ll all see, sweetheart. A little slut eager to suck cock and drink cum. How many loads do you think you could swallow until your stomach started to swell from it? How many different cocks would it take for you to go so deep into subspace that you’d have to rely on me to keep you safe?”

Obviously he hadn’t been able to answer, outside of a muffled whimper, but Bucky had kept up the filthy dialogue until he finally gave Quín permission to touch himself and come, before coming so hard himself that his spend overflowed Quín’s lips and dribbled down his chin.

There was a third and a fourth time too, but it was still a bit of a surprise to him when Bucky announced one evening at dinner that he’d identified two kink clubs within an hour’s drive of the Brooklyn apartment if Quín wanted to look at the websites and decide which one he preferred the look of. He hadn’t been surprised though, to find out that Bucky had not only run background checks on the club owners and managers, but on most of the regular clientele, who shouldn’t have had enough information in the system to identify them that well.

“I thought’” said Bucky, twirling some spaghetti onto his fork, “that we could go along just as spectators for our first time. They have some private rooms if we get all worked up and can’t wait until we get home. But it would help us get familiar with the place.” He placed the forkful of food into his mouth and pushed his phone across the table, open on the first club’s gallery page.

Quín’s throat went dry as he swiped through the pictures.

 A set of glory holes, where he could just kneel and accept any cock that appeared. 

A dark room where he wouldn’t be able to see who was touching him. 

A dungeon with a spanking bench, a St Andrew’s cross, a cage, and leather manacles hanging from the ceiling. Space for Bucky to put him on display and do whatever he wanted.

“Earth to Joaquín.” An amused voice broke into his thoughts. He looked up, knowing he looked like a deer caught in headlamps. Bucky gazed back at him, darkly. “That club has a specific kink night coming up next Thursday. Doms and their subs only.”

Quín swallowed thickly. “Okay. That sounds… good.”

Bucky had just smiled dangerously. “That settles it.. Now eat your dinner, baby. Don’t let it go cold.

When they pulled up outside the club, just over a week later, Quín wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting the club to look like, but a warehouse in a generic downtown district had not been it. Although, he mused, it probably wasn’t the type of business that wanted to overtly advertise itself on the street, in case it became a focus for puritanical protestors.

Bucky opened his car door and drew him to his feet, fussing over him in a manner that was both endearing and frustrating at the same time. “You alright, J? Need a minute? Or changed your mind? It’s okay if you have.”

Quín gently shook his head before stretching up for a brief kiss. “I’m fine. A bit nervous, but also excited, too. Let’s head in.”

At first it seemed like any other private member’s club. At the reception, which was separated from the main club area, there were forms to fill out and terms and conditions to accept. An attractive woman smiled at them from behind the counter. With the membership fee for the year paid, they were buzzed through the security door and walked into… a bar? 

There were some high tables with stools and a couple pool tables and it would have been easy to forget where they were if it weren’t for the fact that a large number of the people in the place were just wearing towels around their waists or combinations of lingerie and fetish gear.

The hostess showed them around, stating that for the tour they didn’t need to get out of their street clothes, but if they wanted to return to the back rooms afterwards they would need to be in an appropriate outfit or naked. The first areas - the changing rooms, hot tub and sauna, felt like those you might find at a gym or resort - possibly a European resort with the amount of flesh on display but nothing too out of the ordinary - but then she led them into the back rooms area and the dungeon.

Quín came to a sudden standstill as he took in the sight before him, the spell only being broken by Bucky’s snort of amusement as his boyfriend almost walked straight into his back. A woman, tall and curvaceous, had her hands locked above her head into the leather manacles he’d seen on the website. Behind her, another woman - her domme, possibly her girlfriend - held a leather flogger in her hand and was bringing it down onto the meat of her ass and upper thighs at irregular intervals. The sound of each impact echoed through the room, followed by either a cry, a whimper or a moan, depending on where it landed and how much force had been dealt. Around the pair were a semi-circle of spectators. Some were easily identifiable as Subs by the looks on their faces, the revealing state of their dress, the way they were kneeling on the floor in front of what Quín assumed were their Doms, and the fact that some of them had collars on. His breath hitched at the sight of those. A collar - a tangible symbol of Bucky’s ownership of him - was something he’d never really considered until this point.

A loud cry brought his attention back to the Sub being punished and he watched, enraptured by the pleasure that was evident on her face and echoed by the obvious sheen of arousal between her thighs. She shook and jerked under each impact and then leaned into the caress of her Domme in the lull between them. Her Domme spoke gently to her, checking in and reassuring her how beautiful she looked, and how everyone was enjoying watching her be a good girl. Quín felt an honest-to-god jealousy build inside him as he heard that. He wanted that to be him. He wanted to be in her place.

”You wanna go check out one of the private rooms, bub?” Bucky whispered in his ear. Quín couldn’t speak - his mouth was too dry - but he managed to nod. Bucky must have picked up on his excitement with his enhanced senses. He followed Bucky back to the changing rooms where his attentive Dom helped him to strip out of his clothes until he was just clad in his black boxer briefs. A classic, almost boring, choice to be sure, but Quín knew how he looked in them especially with his cock half-chubbed and pressing against the fabric. Bucky stripped out of his own clothes too, although he then placed a black silk robe on, over his shoulders, covering both his scarring and his left arm. He kept his gloves on too. Suitably un-attired, Bucky then steered Quín back along the corridor, heading towards a room where they could choose to leave the door open to invite others in, close the bottom half to only allow spectators, or shut it completely for privacy.

”I’m not ready to share you yet, baby,” Bucky said as he fully shut and locked the door. “But next time… that’s a different story. Now, get up on that bed and get on your knees.”

”Yes, Bucky,” he replied with a sigh, already sinking into his soft head space.

Bucky clucked his tongue. “I think, if we are going to play here, in public, you’re gonna have to call me something else. Calling me by my name doesn’t really have the right deference to it for a good sub, does it?”

”What should I call you then?” Quín asked as he climbed up on the bed that appeared to be foam covered in a waterproof, wipe clean material.

Bucky tapped his lips with his finger. “I don’t feel like a ‘Sir’ - that’s too much like a school teacher. And I’m not a ‘Daddy’ - I like to punish you and see you squirm too much. How about ‘Sarge’? Could you call me that, baby?”

Quin nodded enthusiastically, eager not only for what would come next, but also on their follow-up visit

”Yes, Sarge.”

“Good boy,” Bucky drawled at him, and then he crawled up onto the bed, a feral smile on his face. “Don’t think I didn’t see how hypnotised you were, watching that. You wanted it, didn’t you?

Bucky placed his hand on the back of Quín’s head and tugged it backwards, exposing his throat. Bucky leant down and sucked a dark mark into the delicate flesh, just where his pulse was jumping under his skin. He couldn’t answer under Bucky’s erotic attack, only let out a hiss pleasure and followed by a squeak when his cock was grabbed roughly and squeezed. Then, just as quickly, Bucky gave him a shove to his shoulder, sending him sprawling onto his back, and Quín looked up as Bucky pulled off his gloves and shrugged off his robe.

“If you wanna earn what you want, you better put that mouth to good use, baby. Once you’ve swallowed down a load, I’ll fuck you so hard that everyone in this place will hear you and get a preview of what you have to offer.” Bucky reached into his briefs, pulled out his cock - head tinged dark pink and leaking profusely - and jacked it a few times. “Come now, baby. Don’t waste a drop.”

“Whatever you say, Sarge,” Quín replied with a smile before he rearranged himself and took Bucky’s cock deep into his mouth. 

Chapter 3

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

@christywrites, @doasyoudesireandlive, @endlesstwanted

[whumblr]

Promise

Custody masterpost - Previous chapter

-

“No... don’t—"

Jeff shot upright at the sound of Nat’s voice breaking through his light, restless sleep. Ready to rip Eric away from them, to pull their arm out of his clutches.

But before he’d even half made it up to one knee, and he wasn’t greeted by a sneering voice or crooned little words to Nat, he realized that Eric had other means to slither in quietly in the dead of night.

Sure enough, they were alone in the darkened room that served as their cell. Just him and Nat. And whoever visited Nat in their sleep. Not like he’d have to guess who.

“No… no please,” Nat whimpered, tossing and turning on the floor, shaking their head. Their hands and arms twitched, as if they wanted to reach up, keep their invisible assailant at bay.

Jeff released an almost relieved puff of breath. He scooted a little closer to the twitching figure and rested the back of his fingers against their cheek.

Nat winced at first, but then leaned into the touch. Their breathing calmed, their body relaxed, and after a while they stilled, undisturbed.

“That’s right,” Jeff mumbled, brushing some black strands of hair from Nat’s face, palm of his hand cupping their cheek.

If only things were this easy in real life… Just a fond little touch, a little reminder that they didn’t have to fight alone, and their tormentors disappeared as if in a puff of smoke. If only…

And with Nat falling back into a deep sleep, only their torso moving up and down in deep breaths, his own body calmed as well. Until the adrenaline retreated and his shoulder reminded him that just earlier that day it had been ripped open.

“Shit…”

He grit his teeth against the pain, letting his head fall back and he hissed up at the ceiling. Jumping up like that hadn’t done him much good; the wound throbbed against his stitches as if the bullet was still inside and wanted nothing more than to burst out as violently as it had entered. With a groan, he settled back down, rough carpet the only thing protecting him from the cold floor. It wasn’t much to sleep on and he already missed the bed in the medic’s room.

But he hadn’t wanted to leave Nat alone. And by the looks of it, it had been a right call.

During the day, Nat wasn't much better. Every time the door opened Nat stopped breathing, completely froze up or slightly scooted back, curling in on themself with a soft whimper.

Jeff was pretty sure Eric was doing it on purpose. Kept changing the date of execution just to see Nat fear the worst every time he entered the room. He didn’t really do anything – on doctor’s orders probably – he uncharacteristically didn’t even say much; he just brought in some food or medicine, but always with a wicked cold smile on his face, eyes crinkling with badly hidden glee roaming over Nat. He’d linger for a bit, and would then leave without a word. Rinse, repeat.

He hadn’t forgotten Eric’s hissed words to him either.

I need him there to watch.

Just those words made him want to shudder. Even when, at first, he hadn’t known what was in store for them. He knew all too well it wasn’t good.

“Nat… Nat!” Jeff had desperately called earlier when they were alone again in the medic’s room. Nat was off somewhere very far away, staring straight ahead when the medic checked up on Jeff and they didn’t even notice that the doctor had left. Jeff pulled at Nat’s wrist to get their attention. “What is the punishment for lying?!”

Nat flinched, eyes slowly finding Jeff’s but they immediately looked away again. Their lips trembled. “It… he…” Unable to find the words, they stood and turned away from Jeff. And they lifted their shirt.

Jeff gaped. He’d seen the scars on Nat’s back before. He knew what had caused those long red stripes. But it still punched the air out of him. “No…”

Nat settled back down next to him, but kept their eyes down, fixed on the fidgeting hands in their lap.

“Okay…” Jeff started, “It’s okay, we can… we’ll think of something.”

“No. We won’t,” Nat said, voice strong and Jeff looked up, surprised, breaking away from his thoughts. “The only thing you’ll think of is something that will let you take it,” Nat continued. “Some kind of bargain. Or pissing him off. I won’t let you.”

“Nat, I—”

“Promise me.” But Nat’s voice broke and the next words were merely more than a whisper. “Promise me that…” they searched for some words of tact, “that you won’t let him do it to you. This is my fault. I should bear it. Not you.”

“It’s not your fault! He’s been waiting fo—” Jeff rushed out in one breath, but Nat remained unfazed and just looked at him, waiting for his answer.

Jeff’s turn to fumble; his eyes darted around the room, anywhere to avoid Nat’s determined gaze, anywhere to see if an alternative would lay around discarded on some desk. He stuttered out half syllables as his brain raced to come up with another solution. But he came up with nothing. He closed his eyes briefly in defeat and let out a breath.

“I promise…”

-

The day of the promise announced itself before Eric even said a word; his cheerful demeanor as he burst into the room made it all too clear.

“A very good morning to you both,” he beamed, eyes instantly finding Nat. “And especially to you, Nat.”

If Nat could get any more tense, their clamped up jaw would probably break some teeth. But they knew the gig. So without a word and without any prompting they got up and moved towards him.

“Very good,” Eric crooned. His hand moved away from behind his back. Handcuffs looped around his two smallest fingers as he kept a firm grasp on a long, folded leather string. He caressed the leather loop over Nat’s cheek – handcuffs jingling under their ear – and brushed the whip down to their chin to make them look up. “Hold out your hands, please.”

“Wait…” Jeff couldn’t hold it in. He took a step forward, but with caution instead of his usual collision course to try and fight the man off. “Please… don’t do this.”

The meek tone may have raised an eyebrow, but besides that Eric remained unsurprised. He’d probably been waiting for something like this and, of course, he added somewhat predictably, “How about I do it to you instead, with double the lashes.”

Pent up anger swirled up and Jeff was about to snarl an ‘okay!’, but then he caught Nat’s desperate glance and thought of the last time he’d ignored their wishes. Their wish this time however was mortifying; they caught his eyes, reminding him of his promise, and slowly shook their head.

And Jeff just shattered.

“What’s your answer, detective?”

“I…”

“Look at me.”

Jeff tore his gaze from Nat, hoping that the snarl on his face would cover for the emotions plain to read in his eyes.

“You accept?” Eric continued.

“No,” Jeff whispered.

“No?” Eric repeated in mock surprise. “And here I thought you wanted to protect your friend. Someone is going to take this. Who is it going to be, detective?”

Torn, Jeff shot an almost pleading glance to Nat, who merely responded with a glare of full determination. “…don’t do it to me.”

“More specific.”

“Do it to Nat.”

“What an awful thing to ask for,” Eric sneered. “But very well, if that’s what you want…”

“What I want is for you to fucking leave them alone! Please, I’m begging okay, it’s what you want, right?! Me begging in return for some fucking mercy!”

 “I’ve never heard such aggressive begging…” Eric sighed, but relented. “Beg me to let you watch, then.”

“Wha—?!”

“I mean, someone’s going to have to keep a right count making sure I don’t go over twenty…” Eric drawled. He leaned over to Jeff, relishing the disgusted jerk as the man wanted to recoil but stayed firm instead, and he rested the whip under Jeff’s chin. “Beg well enough and I might even lower it to fifteen.”

Okay, so he wasn’t allowed to take the pain, but he could at least hurt his pride to strike a bargain.

“Please,” Jeff said again and this time accompanied his words with action as he sank to his knees. He just about caught the flicker in Eric’s eyes before he cast his gaze down and stared at Eric’s shoes instead. He wasn’t sure what would please Eric more –  looking down or up – was actually disgusted to even think about what would fucking please Eric more… Maybe both? “Please, sir,” he pointedly glanced up but tried to keep the murder in his eyes at bay, “let me watch.”

Even with the man trying to hide it, Eric was visibly delighted. But of course, he always had a way to turn it up a notch. “Let you watch what?”

Jeff crunched his teeth together, tightened his fingers into fists. “Let me watch you… use the whip on Nat.” And he was sure something inside just cracked.

“Aw, I can’t let such behavior go unrewarded… Very well, fifteen.”

He pulled Nat in by the wrists and swirled the handcuffs around on his index finger. “Now Nat, with just fifteen, maybe we won’t need these, hm? You can do this without collapsing into a heap, I’m sure.”

Nat’s lips trembled, fear sparking at the hinted outcome of all this, memories of the last time lashing though their brain. “I—I’m not—” They glanced at the whip.

Eric shushed them and held the whip out again. “It’s okay, look, this is a different whip than last time. I know this is just a repeat lesson, you’ve already learned, this is just a reminder of everything, right? So a lighter whip should do, shh, relax, this shouldn’t leave your back a red mess.”

What else could they do but simply nod and Eric pointed to the floor. “Get on your knees then and take off your shirt.”

Eric retreated a few steps and Nat pulled their shirt off. They took a deep breath and stood over the still kneeling Jeff. They exchanged a terse nod and Nat left their shirt in his lap. Then they followed suit, retreating a few steps with their eyes still on Jeff, and turned around to sink to their knees.

Their exposed back told the full story of the previous lashings; Eric couldn’t help a smile as he let his gaze roam over the scars. “No new ones to add this time, I think,” he mused and he twirled the thin leather around a finger before he let the tip drop to the floor, “Like I said, can’t render you out this early. Now, what’s this for, Nat?”

“For lying to you, sir,” Nat droned emotionlessly.

The first lash hit without warning. And sure, maybe it was a lighter whip but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. The sudden pain forced them forward on their knees with a scream and they had to catch themself, hands flat against the carpet. They were sure they felt their skin split; maybe not as bone deep as last time, probably just a shallow scratch, but they still felt drops of blood cooling against their skin. The long cut spread out the bruising force over the length of their back, pain searing all the way down.

They heard Eric hum behind them. Did he notice the blood? Did he go too hard? Please… Nat prayed silently. Please… hold back. Just a little. A little less strength so at least they’d only have to cope with the bruises and not their skin exploding open every hit.

“Sit up straight, Nat,” his cold words followed instead. “And you, detective. You might want to count along. Out loud. Make sure we don’t go over fifteen.”

He didn’t hold back.

The pain of the second hit caught them less by surprise. It crossed right over the first, squeezing out even more pain.

They fell into a rhythm, a flow of sounds; the lash of the whip, immediately followed by a scream, closing with Jeff’s tight, hesitant count. Repeat.

By ten they had to force themself to remain upright. Their entire body trembled, muscles screaming to relax as they presented the wider target of their back. But by twelve, Eric didn’t seem to mind aiming the last three over their hunched back as they screamed directly into the rough carpet, all bowed over, resting on their elbows. Tears dripped down their nose, falling in-between their clenched fists.

“Fifteen,” Jeff’s desperate voice rang out. “That’s fifteen, stop!”

Nat drooped down, all strength leaving their muscles. They hoped for hurried footsteps making their way over, desperate to help, to comfort, but they mewled when they instead heard the determined but slow heavy footfall nearing.

Fingers tangled roughly through their hair and snagged them up. Nat couldn’t help a soft cry.

“Next time I catch you in a lie, I will flay the skin off your back, do you understand me?” Eric hissed in their face.

“Y-yes… sir,” they managed in a whisper before Eric shoved them down again.

“Tend to them,” he snarled to Jeff, and pressed a first-aid kit into his hands before he left them alone.

Trembling fingers touched over Nat’s shoulders. Hissed curses followed by soft words of reassurance. The pain wasn’t, unfortunately, enough to make them pass out and Nat whimpered and hissed as they tried to turn their body.

Jeff just shushed them and pressed them down. “Shh, just lie down, it’s okay.”

And Nat allowed themself to relax at the words: “I got you.”

-

Continued here

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @hurtmebeautifully @im-just-here-for-the-whump @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @queenofthenoobs @gala1981 @whumpifi @whatwhump

[holylulusworld]

Asgardian Possession – Kinktober 14

Summary: You are his.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Kink: possessive behavior 

Rating: lightly explicit

Warnings: possessive behavior, light smut, protected sex, biting, forced voyeurism, Loki’s tricks

A/N: A short but naughty drabble.

A/N2: idea by anon

Words: 850+

Kinktober 2022

“I bet he tried to kill her.”

You glare at Clint.

“Would shut up, Barton?”

“Not for a million bucks,” Clint smirks as you try to ignore the staring contest going on between Loki, his brother, and two over-protective super-soldiers.

“Brother.”

“Thor.”

“What did you do this time? Did you try to kill Lady Y/N? Yes or no.”

“I would never try to kill my favorite pet. She’s the only one getting my humor. Plus, she makes the best food. I can’t digest the food they offer me on Midgard. Y/N always takes good care of me.”

“That’s no excuse for locking her up in your room, Loki,” Thor’s voice booms through the room. “Brother, she’s not one of your servants. Lady Y/N is a good friend to the Avengers and me.”

“She’s like a sister to me,” Loki’s eyes darken as Steve dares to step closer to you. He grits his teeth while slowly sliding his daggers out of his sleeves to press the tip of one dagger into Steve’s chest and hold the other against the super-soldier’s throat.

“BROTHER!”

“Hands off!! Y/N is my pet. No one can touch her but me,” Loki sneers as Bucky tries to step in front of you. “Last warning. Pet, come over here.”

“She’s not some animal,” Bucky grunts. “Stay away from Y/N, or you can have a taste of my fist.”

“Try me,” the raven-haired trickster gives Bucky a sinister smile. “I bet you can’t even throw a punch before you ended up losing your mind.”

“Brother, don’t,” Thor warns again. “No fighting and no illusions to mess with our allies’ minds. You promised to behave.”

“I promised not to kill them. I didn’t say a thing about keeping them from killing each other.”

Loki just loves semantics.

“Loki of Asgard. You will not use your powers on one of them,” the blonde Asgardian calls for his hammer. “If you don’t listen to me, I’ll send you to…”

“Guys, can you stop fighting,” you finally speak up. “I stayed at Loki’s room on free terms. He didn’t force me to stay. Uh-we read a few books, and talked about Midgard, Asgard, and stuff.”

“Stuff. Right.”

Clint doesn’t believe a single word leaving your lips. He can see it in your eyes. You are lying to all of them to protect Loki.

“You are hiding some things from us, young lady,” your roll your eyes. Entrance Tony Stark. Your self-declared father. Or big brother. Depends on his mood.

“ENOUGH!” Loki’s hands turn blue for a moment. “Get away from my pet. Everyone knows I laid claim on Y/N and her body.”

“Loki.”

You sigh as said man wraps his arm possessively around your waistline. He glares at the men in the room to make sure you belong with him. “Darling. Let me tell them to back off.”

“I told you to stop acting like I’m your most prized possession. Stop calling me pet,” you mutter under your breath. It’s no use. Loki already made up his mind. He won’t back down now.

“I will lay claim on you whenever I want to. Pet, follow me to my chambers.”

“Room,” you correct.

“Chamber.”

You give up for now. “Fine. Bring me to your chamber…”

“Mine. That’s what you are,” Loki is like a man possessed. You didn’t get far and ended up in the communal room. On the couch. “Look at you, filled with your God.”

“Loki, we should go to your room.”

“No.”

He pins your hands above your head. “Loki,” you can only watch him move on top of you. He digs his knees into the couch, and gyrates his hips to hit that spot he always finds so easily. “Fuck.”

“Look at me,” holding his gaze you whimper. Loki looks like he’s about to eat you alive. “You’re mine. Say it.”

“’m yours…”

“Yes you are,” he growls. “Everyone will know it after tonight. Pet, be more vocal. I want you to be as loud as possible.”

You wrap your legs around his waistline and dig the soles of your feet into his ass. His pale skin seems to glow in shades of blue when he speeds up. You can already feel his cock twitch inside of you.

“I want you to cum for me,” you cry out in pleasured pain as it seems his cock just turned a little colder. “Now, pet.”

“FUCK! I … Loki! What are you doing?” arching your back you push your tits in his face. Loki greedily takes the chance to bite your tit again to leave yet another mark. “Cold!”

“YES! I will freeze your pussy if you don’t admit you are mine!”

You fear he’ll tear the condom with his powers.

“Sick bastard,” Steve still fights Loki’s influence. “Let us go or at least look away.”

“No,” Loki licks around your nipple. “I told you that Y/N is mine. You all disagreed so, here we are. Is my godlike cock inside of her cunt proof enough?”

“Brother, I’ll kill you…”

“Nah, you will watch me fuck my queen…”

Loki smirks as your eyes drift toward your friends frozen to the spot.

Loki will force them to watch you get devoured by the God of mischief.

Over, and over, and over again…

Tags in reblog.

[xanthippe74]

Drarry microfic: Bones

“We’re close,” Malfoy announces solemnly. “I can feel it in my bones.”

Harry huffs, irritated, as he weaves between tombstones. “Right. Just like the tingling in your fingers you felt at the last cemetery, and the chills up your spine at the one before that. Forgive me if I’m losing faith in your heebie-jeebies.”

His bicep is caught in a tight grip, making him startle, even though he knows it’s only Malfoy. There are few places Harry likes less than dark graveyards, and tonight he and Malfoy were ordered to search several of them. So, yeah, he’s already a little on edge. To make things worse, when he pivots to try to wrest his arm away, Malfoy is grinning. Grinning!

Since the Head Auror had the (batshit) idea to partner them two years ago, Harry’s learnt to put up with Malfoy’s dramatics, for the most part. But this is the absolute limit of his patience.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Malfoy?” Harry snaps. “Have you been overdoing it with the Cheering Charms again?”

Malfoy’s smile widens—if that’s possible—as he keeps hold of Harry’s arm and leans closer. Too close. Despite the fact that Malfoy looks pointier, even a bit ghoulish, in the light of their wands, Harry finds himself getting flustered. They don’t casually touch each other as a rule. No jovial slaps on the back, no reassuring shoulder squeezes. The last time they had any physical contact was months ago, when Malfoy shielded Harry from a curse by lying on top of him, and it was so bloody embarrassing that they couldn’t look each other in the eye for the rest of the week.

“Potter,” Malfoy says in a low, commanding voice that makes Harry suddenly feel hot all over, “stop talking. Right now.”

Harry swallows. What is happening? He lets his gaze slide down to Malfoy’s mouth, which is hardly his fault because they’re ridiculously close now and the git is three inches taller. Malfoy has really nice teeth, Harry manages to think through his befuddlement. Shiny and straight, like his hair.

Crack!

Before Harry has time to register the murmured incantation or sharp flick of Malfoy’s wand, there comes a shattering sound behind him. He whirls around. Scattered across the ground are large shards of bone, some with decaying flesh still clinging.

“Bloody hell, was that an—”

“Inferius, yes.” Malfoy recasts his Lumos with greater strength and scans the graveyard. “It’s a good thing one of us was paying attention. Come on. We should make sure there aren’t any more lurking about.”

“But we’re supposed to be looking for a Dark artefact drop site,” Harry objects while keeping his eyes on the shadowy edges of Malfoy’s wandlight. “What are we going to tell Robards?”

“We’ll tell him that we found something more interesting,” Malfoy says with a shrug. He tilts his head towards Harry. “And Inferi aren’t even the most interesting discovery I’ve made tonight.”

He reaches out and cups Harry’s chin, then lifts it slightly as if he’s going to lean in again. And Harry, who apparently hasn’t recovered his wits yet, can’t help the tiny, surprised “Oh” that comes out of his idiot mouth.

Malfoy releases Harry with an exasperated sigh. “Focus, Potter. This place could be crawling with Inferi for all we know, and I’d rather not get ripped to pieces. Plus, I just had my uniform cleaned.”

“Well, your uniform,” Harry mutters as he follows his partner grudgingly. “Merlin forbid. Alright, let’s go. But you have to explain this to Robards when we come back empty handed.”

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll buy you a drink for every Inferius we find. Not at the Leaky, though. Somewhere more… intimate.”

Harry almost trips. “Oh? And then what?”

“Then we’ll just see where the evening takes us, won’t we?” Malfoy looks back at Harry over his shoulder, cheeky as hell. “But I have a very strong hunch about where it might go.” 

Written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt, "bones."

masterlist of my microfics

[sophie1973]

London Boy

Or the evolution of Henry's name in Alex's phone.

It is February 17 and Henry has been ghosting him for 6 fucking weeks.

Alex is in his room at the Residence, lying on his bed with his phone in his hand, abusing his bottom lip with his teeth and wondering what went so horribly wrong that Henry, after weeks of talking, laughing, exchanging jokes and insults and yes, one earth shattering kiss, seems to have erased Alex from his life.

Alex isn’t even angry. He is frustrated. Disappointed. There are millions of questions battling in his head, and no answer to any of them. He closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

One more try.

By the way, I upgraded you in my phone. You are now Prince Henry YUK. Remind me what the Y stands for again?

If Henry ignores this one, Alex might have to resign himself to write him off his life. The idea leaves him with a cold knot in his stomach, but what else can he do ?

He figures that staring at his phone won’t make Henry replies faster (or at all…) so he goes take a shower, hoping against all odds that this is the message that will make a difference. That Henry will read between the lines. Even though at this point Alex doesn’t even know himself what he’s trying to say.

 But when he comes back 10 minutes later, there is no answer. The message doesn’t even appeared to be read.

Another piece of Alex’s heart breaks.

*****

It is the evening after the State dinner, and Alex and Henry are in Alex’s room. Henry was just supposed to hang out with Alex for the day, before catching his flight the next morning. The  official plan was to relax and watch some TV or share some conversation, but in the privacy of Alex’s bedroom, the boys had other ideas.

Now they are both sitting in bed, naked, and enjoying a pint of salted caramel ice cream, childishly battling with their spoon for the last morsel.

When Alex puts the container back on the nightstand, Henry leans against the pillows and gives him a fond look.

“It’s Prince Henry UK. There is no Y and you know it, you insufferable twat.”

Alex laughs happily. “Haha ! So you have been reading my messages.”

Henry shrugs but doesn’t reply. He had told Alex last night what had gone through his head the whole time and how he had tortured himself over that kiss.

Alex takes his phone. “Guess it’s time for another upgrade.” He types something with a smirk on his face and Henry leans in and places his head on his shoulder.

“There,” Alex says, shoving the phone in Henry's face, nearly hitting his nose. Henry squints at the phone first, before a smile lights his face.

“Henry the Maypole”, he reads with a chuckle. “And they say romance is dead.’

Alex turns on his side, facing the young Prince. “But I’m a romantic.One of the many reasons why you like me.”

“I do, actually,” Henry replies, a soft smile on his lips but a serious look in his eyes.

Alex throws his phone away on the bed, his hand coming to stroke Henry’s hair, taking an immense pleasure at such a simple gesture.

“I still don’t know what a maypole is.”

Henry rolls his eyes. “Just Google it. That is, if you know how to use Google.”

Alex sticks out his tongue at him, sliding his hand under the cover and resting it on Henry’s hip. A shiver runs through his body, and Alex is filled with both smugness and elation at the power his touch has on him. Especially since it goes both ways.

“I’d rather Google you,” he says with a suggestive wink as his mouth comes to cover what he knows now is a very sensitive spot on Henry’s neck.

The young man sighs, closing his eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense, but I’m fine with it.”

*****

A phone starts ringing on the other side of the room.

“Alex, I think it’s yours,” Nora  says and he raises his head from behind the pile of binders and papers he was busy with. It’s been 3 weeks of campaigning in Austin, and he feels more and more optimistic about the outcome.

“I’ll get it.” He gets up and quickly jogs to the table but the phone has stopped ringing.

“It read “Henry” with three little red, white and blue hearts”, Nora supplies with a knowing smile. She has come for a few days to give him a hand, and has not grilled him too much so far about the young British Royal.

Alex  clears his throat. “Right. It’s a private joke between us. Because he’s from England, and I’m from…here, and our flags are the same colors…” he finishes lamely.

Nora chuckles. “Relax. I know you’ll spill the good stuff soon. I can be patient.”

Alex smiles and shakes his head. She’s right, and they are overdue for a nice bonding evening.

He presses the call back button with some trepidation.. “Baby, hey.”

“Alex ! Is this a bad time, love?”

Alex almost scoffs at that. Hearing Henry’s voice always provokes a deep feeling of peace and tranquility in the midst of the craziness that is his life right now.

“Not at all. Hearing your voice is exactly what I needed.”

“Listen, I’m trying very hard to clear my schedule and come to see you for a few days. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m able, ok? I miss you.”

“I miss you too sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to be here.”

******

“I can’t find my stupid phone,” Alex grumbles while pulling at the covers and pillows, putting the bed in even more disarray than it already was. It was a few days after the election, and they were still staying at Alex’s family house in Austin.

“You used it last night in bed, so it can’t be far, “Henry says while buttoning his shirt. “Let me call you before you completely trash the place, you vandal,” He offers and takes his own phone from the nightstand.

They immediately hear the familiar ringtone from under the bed, next to where Henry is standing. He looks under it and picks it up. “Here you go,” he tells Alex, before his eyes fall on the screen and a pleased smile curves his lips.

“Really?” he asks, showing the screen that reads  ’Love of my life’.

Alex blushes, taking his phone back. “Yes, so, what of it? You are.” 

“Hey, I think it’s sweet. And adorable. And I love it,” Henry says, leaning to put a kiss on Alex’s lips. Alex hums his pleasure against his mouth, acutely aware of his nerve’s ending every time Henry and him touch.

“What am I in your phone?” he asks, curious.

Henry’ smile dimmed slightly. “Erm…Alex ?”

He takes a step back, crossing his arm,trying for his best offended look.“Alex? That’s just it? Alex ??”

“Well, it came to my understanding that it was, indeed, your name, love.”

“Don’t try and distract me by using fancy British turn of phrases, Fox.” he growls, stabbing his finger in Henry’s chest.

“There is nothing particularly British or fancy in that sentence, but ok. And you are right. I’ll find something more suitable,” Henry replies in a soothing tone, catching Alex’s hand and bringing his knuckles to his lips.

“Suitable,” Alex mimicks, rolling his eyes and pushing him on the bed before straddling him. 

“So…what sounds suitable for you, your Majesty ?”

Henry frowns, biting his lips as if he was in a business meeting and not sprawled on his bed while his boyfriend is slowly unbuttoning the shirt he's just put on a few minutes ago.

“Well, this is an extremely serious matter. I have to think about it. Long and hard,” he finishes with a smirk.

“You’d better,” Alex whispers with a laugh in his ear, before capturing his lips, and soon the phone situation is the last thing on their mind.

*****

A few days later, as Henry is in the shower, curiosity gets the better of Alex and he calls himself on Henry's phone.

The words that appear on the screen make his heart melt.

Future husband

Henry gets out of the shower a few minutes later, drying his hair with a towel. “Did I hear my phone ringing?”

Alex makes a dismissal gesture. “Wrong number. But it doesn’t matter. The answer is yes. I’ll marry you.”

Henry opens his mouth before closing it, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. “What ? I didn’t…Alex….”

Alex laughs and kisses him.

[evenhisfacewasanalias]

Bad Reputation 2

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

Story Summary: Reports of Guildford Dudley’s rakishness have been greatly exaggerated

(i.e. There's so many rake/virgin pairings in period dramas, I thought it might be fun to put Guildford and Jane on slightly more equal footing, despite their unequal reputations).

Part 1

“Do you think I’ll like it?”

“Gods, I hope so.”

Despite her professed concern for Guildford falling asleep on her, Jane seems wholly content to let him rest his head at her breast, nails running absentmindedly through his hair. The gentle scrape of her nails against his scalp, the soft rise and fall of her chest as her breathing slowed, would have been enough to lull him into a deep sleep if he hadn't still been so keyed up by the feel of his wife’s body lying beneath his.

His wife.

Jane had told him she wanted to stay with him, that she no longer wished for a divorce. His head is still spinning with the thought of it. Of all the ways he could finally have her - and not just here in his bed. He could also have her smiles, her mocking laughter, her brilliant mind - they were finally his to keep. And once she found a cure, he could have her days as well. The feeling of hope swells almost painfully within his chest.

And yes, he is also thinking of the many things he could do to her, now that she is finally naked and warm beneath him. And of all the things she could do to him in return. He has the feeling his wife would demand fairness and equality in the bedroom as she did in all things. He grins at the idea of it. It wouldn’t exactly be a hardship to allow Jane to have her wicked way with him any time she wanted. He was hers to do with as she pleased - had been from the very start.

Guildford groans a little at the thought, turning to bury his face more deeply into the soft swell of her breasts. He can’t resist pressing his lips to the skin there, tongue swiping at the hint of salt and sweetness where she is warm and lightly perspiring beneath his weight. He delights at her gasp when his lips trail over to capture a soft pink nipple, enjoying the feel of it peaking against his tongue. Adding in the barest hint of teeth has her already squirming beneath him. He gives her breasts more of the attention he’s been itching to bestow on them for weeks now, humming a little at the sensation of her hands in his hair tightening unconsciously. She seems endlessly drawn to his curls, and he mentally notes that he should allow them to grow out a little and see how she reacts. Her own long chestnut locks are certainly a temptation to his fingers, though so is every other part of her. 

He’s forced to use one of his hands to hold himself up over her, but the other freely glides over Jane’s ribs and breasts, cupping the perfect handful of them perhaps a little more roughly than he intended. But Jane simply arches further into his touch, tugging with an equal lack of gentleness at his hair. He traces along her collar and the elegant line of her throat as he continues to plant long sucking kisses everywhere his mouth can reach, worrying the skin with teeth and tongue. She keeps making these little noises that go straight to his cock, which he can feel beginning to swell with renewed interest already. 

He allows his lips to trail further down, traveling along the line of her sternum, tongue sweeping across the skin there. It’s only when the sweet taste of her turns slightly bitter that he recalls the mess he made of her belly. He laughs a little as he pulls back, realizing they’re both still sticky with his spend.

“I think we’ll want a wash before we continue this,” he suggests.

She looks up at him with a hint of confusion at the offer. “But won’t we just get…” she struggles to find a polite word for it, and fails “...again?” 

“That’s the best part,” he winks, thrilled beyond measure at the idea that she still wants more. Jane rolls her eyes a little at his enthusiasm - or at the cliched response of the rake he very much isn’t - but she’s also smiling, perhaps at the reminder that he wants this just as much.

He helps her up to standing, enjoying the way she doesn’t attempt to cover herself as he leads her over to what he thinks of as ‘his’ stall. A large trough of clean water awaits them there. He doesn’t exactly have a shower set up here as he had at home, but at least they have this, and a few clean linens to dry themselves with later.

He takes a moment to finally remove his leather breeches - he can’t believe they’re still on at this point, and it’s a relief to have them off. He doesn’t miss the way Jane’s eyes take him in, and he can feel himself hardening further underneath her appreciative gaze. He reluctantly turns her from admiring his assets so he can divest her of the heavy jewels she still wears. He sweeps her hair to the side to unclasp the pearls at her throat, brushing a kiss against the nape of her neck as it’s exposed. She shivers at this touch, and he makes a mental note to spend more time here later. He repeats the process with her earrings, nipping at the unadorned lobes once they’re freed, and she tilts her head to encourage more of this. He gladly obliges. 

The jeweled pins and golden laurels in her hair are next, and he sets them aside with the rest. He runs his fingers through her soft hair, until it’s free to fall loosely around her shoulders. He presses his face into the soft waves of it and breathes the lightly perfumed scent of them, trailing his knuckles along the tops of her arms and enjoying the prickle of gooseflesh that erupts. She leans back into him for several long moments, and he thoroughly savors the feeling of his half-hard length pressed against the plush swell of her fucking gorgeous ass, before she turns back in his arms to face him. She doesn’t pull away.

“You don’t want to take these off as well?” 

Her fingers tug gently at the necklaces around his throat.

“I don’t often.” He answers, deciding now is as good a time as any to tell her. “They were my mother’s. They’re one of the few things I still have of hers.” 

Her face softens at this revelation.

“I still have my father’s hunting knife,” she confesses in return.

“Not on you, I hope?” He laughs, thinking back to finding her so unexpectedly armed in the woods.

“No, it’s no longer very sharp or practical. I keep it with my journals, to remind me of him.”

He’s a little relieved she hadn’t felt the need for any weapons here with him. Not that there was any way she could have had it with her now, stripped as she was of everything aside from the ring on her left hand, the one that matched his own. He can’t resist the chance to once again drink in the sight of her like this, fully bared to his gaze with the dark fall of her hair curling over her shoulders. She looks softer this way, though somehow no less intimidating. 

Half of him wishes he had come into this marriage with more than his limited experience of bringing off a few ladies in the local taverns, just so he could show her everything he had learned and make this perfect for her. He knew that most women would expect that of someone like him - and in fact several women had sought him out expressly because of his reputation. But not his Jane. She seems as happy to be he first as he was to be hers. She had even called him “beautiful”, which was never something he had expected to hear from her lips - or any woman’s. And she seems to mean it too, with the way she equally can’t seem to stop her eyes roaming over every part of him. He tries to pose a little, to better highlight his hard won musculature.

Jane, of course, catches on to the tactic immediately, and snorts out a laugh. Guildford laughs too, watching her smile as the muscles of his abdomen untense. Apparently she doesn’t mind a little softness either. Though he hopes she will appreciate the part of him that currently isn’t. But Guildford is mostly trying to ignore his more than halfway hardened cock, in favor of getting to enjoy bathing his wife. Once the idea of it had entered his mind he suddenly wanted nothing more than to see her soaking wet. 

He takes her hand and guides them to stand over by the trough. There’s a small bowl nearby, which he uses to scoop some of the clear water from the basin, holding it just below her chin and slowly pouring.

She nearly shrieks. 

“It’s cold!”

“Well what did you expect?” He laughs as she practically swats away the bowl. It’s not as if they had servants out in the stables to heat the water for them. 

“Well let’s see how you enjoy it,” she taunts before reaching into the basin with cupped hands, tossing the chilly water directly in Guildford’s face.

He sputters a little but keeps grinning even as his hands go to wipe his face. She splashes him again, this time hitting his chest. And he has to admit the water is a little cooler than he’d prefer, but what does she expect out here? 

However, Guildford could never resist the chance to tease his wife.

“Perhaps Her Majesty would prefer a bath, then?”

And with no more warning than that, Guildford scoops her into his arms, holding her over the basin as if to plunge her in.

“Don’t you dare, Guildford Dudley!” 

He expects her to try and wriggle out of his arms immediately, or kick at him until he falls back. But instead she clings tightly to him, deceptively strong arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders. Guildford realizes that there’s no way to drop her into the tough like this without going in himself, which was probably her plan all along. But it doesn’t change the fact that his naked, wet wife is clinging to him. He grins.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assures her - though they both know this isn’t true. He has to take several steps from the basin before she’s willing to unwrap her arms, allowing him to gently set her back down. 

“How about this?” 

This time Guildford carefully scoops the water out with one of his own hands, allowing it to warm a little before pressing it to her belly, letting the slightly less frigid water to pour down as his fingers swipe through the mess he had left. 

“Better,” she agrees, allowing him to continue washing across her stomach and hips. 

She lets him wash both of her hands as well, even though only one really needs it and this is certainly something she can do herself. And she stands still for him as he pours another few handfuls across her shoulders and breasts, just to watch her nipples tighten at the coolness of the water. He makes it up to her by bending down to take each peak into his much warmer mouth, enjoying her stuttering breath at the sudden contrast. 

She pushes him back, however, when he starts kissing away the rivulets of water from her shoulders as well. 

“It’s your turn,” she announces, and he grins at Jane’s perpetual need to even the score between them. Even though they both would have been very satisfied to have him continue kissing and licking at every bit of her skin.

She grabs up a handful of water, but her hands are much smaller than his own, and there’s a lot more of him to cover.

“You can use the bowl, I’m fine,” he assures her. As much as he wants her small hands all over him, they’ll be here all night if she tries to wash him like that. Any other night he might have been willing to let her try, but not this one - not with the knowledge of what was still to come. 

“If you’re sure?” She quirks up an eyebrow at him, before filling the small bowl.

He doesn’t quite yelp at the first pour of chill water, but it’s a near thing. He tries to stay still and play the stoic, but the water quickly runs over his torso straight down to hit upon the overheated flesh of his cock, and the shock of it is instantaneous. Jane is not even doing it intentionally, but the sensation of it is far more intense than the splashes she directed at his face and chest. He tries to appreciate the way it cools the physical urge to rush her back to his bed, but mentally it’s not doing anything to calm him down, so that his mind and body feel at war.

It’s worse when she leans over to press her lips to the areas she’s just washed, her small pink tongue licking away droplets of water from his chest and shoulders. He’s stuck imagining the way her lips and tongue might feel elsewhere. He takes the bowl from her and pours the cold water directly over his head - as if that will somehow cool down his thoughts. He hears the bright clear sound of Jane’s laughter as he shakes the water from his hair, and feels as she reaches up to slick it back from his face, wiping away the excess water there.

She tries to take the bowl back from him, but he tosses it behind him.

“I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Jane drops her arms back at her side, giving in more easily than he had anticipated. Though that probably has something to do with the way her eyes darken at his words. He cups another handful of water. She shivers a little as he presses lower, to where her thighs are still slick with sweat and the wetness of their earlier combined efforts. He’s reluctant to wash away the evidence of just how much she enjoyed herself but he knows this next part will be a little more comfortable if they’re less sticky, so he pours tepid of handfuls of water down each of her thighs, feeling her tremble a little as the back of his hand brushes against her cunt. 

She’s still practically dripping there, and she nearly yelps as he presses a handful of cool water to the heated flesh of her cunt. He allows the water to merely spill down as his middle finger parts her lips, feeling her soft and wet against his hand. He glides his finger along the seam of her, and grins at the way her hands reach up to cling at his upper arms. He catches her wide eyes as the tip of his finger dips back inside her, hearing the slight hitch in her breath as he teases her there. 

He drags his middle finger back up to circle at her clit, before sliding down to plunge his finger into her more fully. Her mouth forms a little ‘oh’ at the intrusion and he can’t help but lean in and lick teasingly into her parted lips before drawing back to continue to watch her expression as he gently slides the finger in and out of her. She’s so tight around even around just one of his fingers. He considers this might be a little easier on her - on both of them - if he opens her up slowly on his fingers first. He has no intentions of hurting his Jane if he can help it.  

He crooks his first finger within her, widening its path and stroking against her slick inner walls for a few minutes before he chances to add a second finger. Jane’s own fingers dig a little into his bicep, but there’s no sign of pain in her expression - and there’s certainly none in the tempting little sounds she’s making. He presses his fingers further within her, searching for any sign of the barrier he’s been told of. Certainly none of the women of his previous acquaintance were so untouched. But there’s nothing to but the tight clench of her inner muscles to hinder the careful thrust of his fingers.

Apparently Jane catches the puzzled look on his features. 

“Is -” she gasps as his wrist bumps against her clit “- something the matter?”

“I don’t wish to hurt you when I…”

He isn’t sure how to ask her this, but she seems to understand.

“Virginity is a - ah! - construct and does not necessarily coincide with the presence of - of an intact hymen,” she keeps gasping every few words at the gentle thrust of his fingers, the pressure of his hand again her clit, rolling her hips to meet each stroke. “A woman might even, oh, break hers during everyday activities such as - gods - riding a horse!”

Guildford thinks he enjoys her lectures even more with her practically riding her fingers - his cock jumps a little at the idea of her riding him -  but he can’t resist adding with a grin, “or perhaps fingering her own cunny?”

“Or that,” she agrees, with a smile of her own. 

There may not be any barrier within her, but she’s still so tight around just two of his fingers. There’s the barest twinge of pain on her face as he slips in a third. Her own smaller fingers certainly hadn’t done nearly enough to prepare her for this, so he keeps it up until he feels her relaxing a little. 

He suddenly wishes he had more to offer her than a lumpy stable bed.

“If you’d like, we could move this to your actual bedroom?” He offers, even though it will mean parting from her to redress themselves.

She stills the movement of her hips against his hand, and he stops with her.

“You mean my late cousin’s bedroom? Where my family and attendants all have the habit of just barging in whenever they please?” She gives him a look as if he just suggested they do this in front of the gathered Court.

“...Yes?” He tilts his head as he reconsiders the wisdom of even suggesting it.

“I think I’d prefer to have you right here,” she announces decidedly, before wrapping her arms around his neck. 

He reluctantly slides his fingers out of her so he can lift her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. He groans a little as the soft heat of her sex presses slickly against his belly in this new position, right above where he is now fully ready for her. 

He carries her with as much agility and speed as he can manage with the tease of her hot cunt sliding across the ridges of his abdomen, but he manages to make it back to the palette bed somehow. He lays her back more carefully, taking a moment to bask in the sight of her spread out across his bed, beautiful and brilliant and wanting him. She trembles a little as he pushes her thighs apart further to settle between them.

Jane pulls herself up as he kneels between the spread of her thighs, and glances down between them. She looks more nervous now than she had just moments ago.

“What if we're bad at it?”

A wave of tenderness sweeps over him at her words. Though it had been her brash confidence that had immediately attracted him to her, it was these rare moments of vulnerability that drew him further into a state he'd previously been reluctant to name but has been feeling for much longer than he cares to admit out loud. Though of course this would be what she worried about.

“When have we ever been bad at anything?” 

He smiles in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, and he can see the barest hint of one returning to her own face. Still, she can never resist arguing with him.

“Well I'm not entirely sure how this Queen thing is going - and you, Guildford Dudley, certainly have a reputation for being quite bad.”

“Yes but I'm so good at it, aren't I?” He grins.

“As always your unearned confidence is most assuring,” she taunts, but her smile widens.

“Jane, if we can get past the disaster of our first meeting–”

“...and our second, and pretty much everything up until today…”

She’s still smiling, so he knows she’s only teasing. But still, he can’t stand to add one more worry to her already full plate.

“What I'm saying is, despite all that, we still work, don't we? Despite all the mess. We'll figure it out. We've never been bad with this part.”

He watches some of her nervousness bleed out at his words. Her fingers reach up to trace along the smiling corners of his lips, and he captures one gently between his teeth. He muffles the resulting giggling with a kiss, as he presses her back down to the sheets below.

Guildford pulls back for a moment to look down at where Jane is spread beneath him, cheeks flushed and lips red and kiss-bitten. Even with all of his assurances, Guildford’s not entirely sure he won’t immediately embarrass himself the second he slips inside her perfect cunt. But he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure she enjoys this.

It doesn’t exactly help when Jane reaches down between their bodies to wrap her small hand around his cock, carefully stroking the length of him from root to tip. He lets out a punched out groan at even this gentlest of touches and drags her hand away before she accidentally ends this prematurely. If he’s going to embarrass himself, he wants to at least be inside her first.

Jane allows him to pin her hand back against the pillow behind her, but he is unsurprised when she doesn’t leave it there when released, but rather threads it back through his damp hair. At least that seems a safe enough spot for her to touch, so long as she doesn’t start pulling. He’s both delighted and terrified at how easily she’s discovered all of his weak spots.

He watches her carefully as he shifts into place, tugging her knees up around his hips and propping himself up on one elbow. The remaining trace of nerves in her expression is drowned out by the way her darkened pupils nearly swallow up the hazel of her eyes. The muscles of her belly jump a little as the fingers of his free hand brush against the soft skin below her navel. He reaches down further to take himself in hand, lining himself up against her.

His lips meet hers once more before he pulls back to look at her questioningly. Jane nods, and he presses forward. The head of his cock nudges carefully against her slick heat and he groans at the feel of it. Jane’s knees clamp around his sides at the barest hint of pressure against her entrance, but she’s smiling up at him encouragingly. Guildford pushes forward a little more, only for his cock to glance off her, slipping along the damp crease of her hip. They both laugh a little at the slip, and Jane reaches down to help guide him where she wants him. Her hand is on his as they both press him forward again, until the tip of him eases past her entrance.

Jane’s head tips back as she draws in a shuddery breath, and Guildford can feel himself trembling with the exertion of moving as slowly as her hand is guiding him. Already, sweat pools at his temples and the base of his spine. But inch by inch he presses inward, occasionally pulling back fractionally to ease his entry. He can feel her begin to relax around him, her knees once again falling open, and with one last shift he slides into her to the hilt.

He keeps watching her face as he’s pressed fully within her - her eyes wide, lips barely parted, and a little furrow forming between her brows. It's all too much to witness. His eyes shut for a moment, but now he's left with the overwhelming sensation of the tight heat that surrounds him, the fluttering of her inner walls. He tries to think of something, anything, to calm himself down so this doesn't end embarrassingly quickly. He summons to his mind reading Mary and Seymour’s filthy letters, the thought of the two of them acting those letters out, and feels himself pulling back from the precipice minutely. The thought that Mary and her lover are also trying to kill them also cools things a little, until it’s swiftly replaced with the image of Jane fighting off the assassins they send with some truly astounding swordplay. The memory of Jane’s body held over his, flushed and panting, her daggers at his throat, is even worse. He bites at the inside of cheek and opens his eyes once more, taking in the sight of the woman herself now lying beneath him. She looks up at him with all the wonder that he feels.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers half to himself as his hand brushes along her checks.

He leans down to kiss at her parted lips, biting carefully at the plush curve of her lower lip. He's torn between the desire to stay perfectly still, pressed as deeply as possible within the tight clutch of her heat around him, and pulling out ever so slightly just so he can push in again. But even with his blood pounding in his ears, he knows he needs to give her time to adjust. And so he does, even though he's shaking with the urge to keep still, to move, to do something. He strokes her face, thumb tracing along her lips and cheek until she gives him some signal that she’s ready.

He doesn’t have to wait long. Jane’s hips rise up to meet him, pressing him impossibly deeper, before drawing back incrementally to repeat the movement. He tries to match the rhythm of her movements, gazing down at her as he pulls back at the same moment she does, and the steady press inward sizzles up along his nerves. It has the same effect on Jane, if her sighs are anything to go by. Still, he needs to make sure.

“Is this alright, love?”

She nods, but he catches a hint of surprise in her expression. It takes him a moment to realize exactly what he had said. But it’s not as if she doesn’t know that he… 

Jane had told him she no longer wanted to leave, and that meant he had time - so much more time - to convince her of the true extent of his feelings for her. And perhaps she might even feel the same one day. He would do everything within his power to show her how he felt. Starting with this moment.

He gathers her up in his arms to kiss her again, carefully matching the pace she sets with her own movements even as the pressure at the base of spine urges him faster, harder. They’re both working on instinct here and he’ll trust hers far more than he trusts his own right now. He mirrors the long, slow roll of his hips with the press of his tongue into their kiss, his hand cradling along her jaw.

It’s not until her heels are digging into the backs of his thigh that he finally takes the hint to give a little more. He tucks his knees under the spread of her thighs, tilting her pelvis upward as he changes the angle of his strokes so he can press a little deeper, thrust a little harder. She practically keens as his cock glides against the spot he had earlier found with the curl of his fingers, and her hands drop down to his ass to drive him further.

“Good?” He asks.

“Gods, yes.”

And it is even better with her small fingers digging into his flesh, pulling him deeper with each thrust. He tries to capture her lips again but their teeth nearly clack together with their movements. His head drops down to her shoulder instead, breathing hotly against her neck, nearly lost in the sensation of being buried so deeply inside her.

“Fuck!”

He can hear her soft laugh at the string of nonsense he breathes into her neck, but he can’t seem to stop himself. Guildford could feel his orgasm already building at the base of his spine. His world narrowing down to the slick press of their bodies and the delicious clench of her inner walls as he begins to lose hold of the rhythm of his hips.

Sensing this, Jane pushes him back, lifting herself so she’s straddling his lap. The change in position causes him to slip from within her, and thankfully stalls his impending climax for a few more moments. The respite is only temporary, as she guides him back to her entrance and settles down over him. Guildford eyes squeeze shut as his cock is once again enveloped in her tight heat, this time in one smoothe, long glide in which Jane is in complete control. His hands grasp at her hips, fingers digging into the curve of her ass, but he lets her set the pace. He finally opens his eyes to look slightly upwards into hers, his dark-haired angel amidst the halo of her mussed curls showing mercy on him. Her pale skin is flushed and glistening in the lantern light, and she rolls her hips slowly at first, as if she’s just now realizing she can.

“Guildford, I need…”

He doesn’t get to hear whatever she was going to say - the mere sound of his name on her lips has his hips jerking up into her on reflex. She cries out at this unconscious thrust of his hips, and begs for more with the helpless roll of her hips, the fingertips clawing at his back. He presses up into her again, pulling her down against him at the same time, earning another pleased cry. He quickens their pace in time with the noises she makes, even though he could already feel his climax swiftly approaching at the sight and feel of her writhing above him, grinding down against him. 

It’s getting harder and harder to maintain this rhythm, and especially not to hold out for her pleasure. He can feel the way her legs have started to become shaky, her body winding tighter around him. Jane drags his face up to hers, holding his cheeks and jaw steady between her hands so she can kiss him again.Their breath is ragged between their lips, and she whines at a particularly deep thrust, reaching back to grasp at his hair, clenching her hands against his skull. It’s all too much. He breathes her name into space between their mouths, hips snapping urgently against her. 

“Jane…”

Guildford comes without his body’s permission, holding her hips roughly to his as his cock pulses within her. His mind nearly whites out as he feels all of the previous tension pouring out his hips jerk against her, releasing deep within her walls. 

He comes to with her hands stoking soothingly along his back, and arms, as if trying to warm him up. He realizes he’s still shivering against her, his face pressed into her neck.

“Alright?” She breathes against the top of his head.

“Never better,” he mumbles into her collarbone, and he revels in the blissful emptiness of his mind and the looseness of his entire body. The warmth of her settled across his lap and wrapped around him. Until his mind catches on the clench of her thighs around his waist, the little abortive movements of her hips.

“You didn’t…” he cuts himself off before asking. Of course she didn’t, not with him shooting off like an awkward teenager almost as soon as she straddled his cock. She had been trying to tell him she needed more when he completely lost himself in the feel of her .

An oversight he plans to immediately make up for.

He gives one final thrust up into her, both of them gasping at the sensation of it - Jane’s body still shaking with the need for more, and his own completely overstimulated by the motion. He can feel himself already softening within her, and reluctantly pulls away. Jane mewls at the loss, but he fills her back up with the rough press of two fingers. 

She rocks against the fingers within her, but the position is awkward, and neither of them can get the leverage they need like this. He guides her to lay back across the bed once more,  brushing a brief kiss to her lips before making his way down her body, her hands fisting in the sheets beside her. He’s pulled far too quickly from the distraction of her perfect breasts by the trembling of her thighs and the desire to show her he can do so much better. 

His lips reach the soft swell of her belly just below her navel and he looks up to catch her gazing down at him. She’s watching him with that little pained furrow between her brow and her breath coming out in shuddery pants, and he knows that now is not the time for teasing. With one broad stroke he laps at her sex from the base of his fingers to her clit, grinning when hips jerk against his tongue, her thighs drawing upwards to lock around his ears and nearly blocking out the sound of her startled moan.

Guildford nudges her thighs back open with his shoulders, holding them spread apart so his tongue can work its way into her folds. With his free hand he wraps one arm around her outer thigh to pin her hips in place. He doesn’t have much experience with this, but the delicious sounds she’s making have him thinking he’s doing something right. Guildford vows to show her as much finesse as he can muster.

She’s tangy and sweet on his tongue except for where his fingers are pressed up inside her - the taste of them mingling together there as he darts his tongue between the spread of his fingers, the scent of her equally intoxicating. But she’s sweetest at her clit, which he takes between his lips to the sounds of her whimpering from above. He swirls his tongue around the bundle of nerves, feeling as her hands reach down to grasp at his hair. He presses his tongue directly against her clit and feels as she jerks away from the too-intense pressure of it. Learning his lesson, he goes back to carefully circling around where she’s most sensitive.

“Just like that!” She directs him - with her words and with her grip on him - as he continues to lavish his attention on her clit. 

She pets more sweetly at the abused locks as his tongue traces downward again, rejoining the work of his fingers and savoring the taste of himself mixed with her, and he loses himself a little in the thought of it. But her fingers tighten and tug at the curls when he moves back up to her clit, every spiral and flutter of his tongue met with tiny jerks of her hips and stuttered breath. He can feel the throbbing pulse of her here and it makes him want to bury his lips and tongue against her sweet cunt until his mouth goes numb with it, drunk on the taste of her. He can feel her practically dripping over his hand and tongue as he works at her. 

“Guildford!”

She cries out his name at the curl of his fingers within her and his lips wrapped around her clit, and he suddenly wants nothing more than to watch her face as she shatters apart. But he glances up to see her head thrown back in pleasure - all that is visible to him is the long line of her throat and the sweet curve of her breasts. He reluctantly pulls his mouth away from her.

“Eyes on me, love,” he demands, fingers still working within her.

Despite all his longing, Guildford is wholly unprepared for the heat of her gaze, the desperation written across her face. Gods, he wants to watch her break apart on his tongue.  

He redoubles the efforts of his fingers and lips, already feeling the trembling of her thighs around his shoulders. The hand at her hip is not enough to keep her from rocking back against the working of his tongue, and Guildford is inordinately pleased with the way she’s nearly riding his face. He sucks at her clit and feels as she clenches around his fingers, stronger each time he repeats the motion. Her fingers twisting so tightly at his hair it’s just this side of painful, as he moans against her cunt, eyes locked with hers. 

Jane comes with a choked out sob, quaking against his lips. He continues to suck and lap at her as she holds him to her, only easing up when he can feel it becoming too much for her. He stills his fingers and gentles his tongue as the last of the tremors shake through her thighs. It takes her a few moments to unclench her fingers from his hair, her fingers still shaky as she pants sweetly above him.

She drags him up to kiss her as soon as she’s able, mouth parting easily to the taste of herself on his tongue. She’s gorgeous like this - flushed skin and languid limbs and smiling against his mouth. Guildford would be tempted to have her again just like this if he thought there was even the tiniest chance of getting it up again a third time this evening. Instead,he rolls them over so she’s half on top of him, and runs his hands along every part of her he can reach as they trade lazy kisses.

Eventually, they both settle back against the sheets and soft hay, too exhausted to do much more than cling to one another. She hums out a little sigh against his shoulder as she rests her head against him.

“That bad then?” She glances up to catch his grin.

“I think you’ve managed to save your reputation at least.” Her lips quirk around the beginnings of a mischievous smile. “Though strictly speaking - and in scientific terms, of course - one cannot extrapolate from a single observation.” 

“I believe that was two observations,” he reminds her. 

“Which is to say,” she wraps her arm around his chest “I think this might require further study before I draw my conclusions.”

“I’m happy to provide Her Majesty with as much study as she desires.”