#bc its always just under the surface

[ef-1]

[bathroomtrapped]

What if they didnt fight cary and convinced him to return for saw 3... Then, would the scenario "jigsaw kidnaps larrys family" become real? Then, then, would it be more awesome than his coming back in saw 3d? I guess the answers yes. I'll forever hate Larry's treachery.

if it went according to plan, allison is kidnapped again and lawrence takes the role of lynn where he cares for john (iirc). either way, yeah theyre involved again. not sure abt diana tho?

okay so, sorry to be That Guy. but lawrence as an apprentice makes the most sense for his character and the saw universe and im going to use this random ask to voice my opinion so thank you for using my ask box as a saw google lol

A LOT more under the cut

i DO with we got to see that version because it would mean more lawrence screentime and i genuinely do not dislike any saw content. idc how shitty saw x is, it could undo everything and shit all over it but i would NOT care. any content means an avenue to explore saw further

thats one of the main reasons the apprentice reveal was so good, in my opinion. before i get to why its great for lawrence, i want to point out why it works SO well for the other aspects. amanda is johns pseudo-daughter, he LOVED her like a father. we see it at the end of saw iii. no matter what he says, john does not forgive people. he punishes jill for losing their child but at the end of iii, we see him genuinely look at amanda with love and forgiveness. and yet? he never trusted her enough to tell her about lawrence. this random fucking guy who didnt even WIN, is the golden child. trusted with his wife!

as for mark, he is the definition of jigsaws philosophy. he may have jostled his victims around but he had the strongest will to live out of anyone and never relished in hurting them (crying after kidnapping paul + killing seth). another reason i like 3D is that he cant even look at jills corpse. his "game over" wasnt victorious. not like johns always is. YET he is not trusted. hes been there since before amanda, followed his rules, lived his philosophy and he was shafted again. i think the reveal does a lot of good for the apprentice-john dynamic for everyone involved.

secondly, JOHNS TESTS DONT WORK. CANONICALLY. they do not!! amanda says it herself. jigsaw traps make people worse, and not just bc thats a logical response to trauma. working for john amplifies everyones worst traits. amanda became a killer, mark grew to find some sort of enjoyment in killing (at the very least, it made him dependent on it for power and a sense of identity after the loss of his sister)

lawrences test was designed to show him what john said he was missing: empathy. he has none! he lies and doesnt care, he cant understand other peoples points of view, and he prioritizes his own whims and wants over everyone. CONSISTENTLY. so what happens when his tests presents him with the very definition of his heart and moral core, then asks him to kill him? he gets fucking worse!

lawrence is a narcissist. as in the personality disorder. he has low empathy (this is canonically the reason for his test!! not just "he cheated" or "he ignored john", he does these things for that reason) and god. just look at the symptoms, its like they made every scene an example of them on purpose. the idea that his game would be a wake up call and cause him to reflect and adjust his behaviors is just insane to me! within the canon logic of the story, and when taking into account his clear personality disorder... its the most logical choice (source: i have it and also i have eyes. SIDE SIDE note, my real source is that hes a clear parallel to john and john was evaluated for NPD in his psychiatric files in the saw game. so theres that) i think this has a lot to do with people not understanding low empathy. they cant understand why he would betray adam and join jigsaw

trauma wont change that overnight. getting fixed by john for 2 years without seeing the sun certainly wont help either

lawrence as an apprentice is the most logical progression of his character. he does what he wants and what he has to, at the expense of others. hes isolated from his wife and child. he cant understand other peoples prespective. he has an issue with guilt or feeling empathy for people, including those suffering like john. this wont change bc he experienced his first shred of empathy after MURDERING someone he got to know for 6 hours. low empathy =/= no empathy. thats like saying dude bros who do shrooms and experience empathy for the first time in their life are changed people. they arent lol

also the contrast between his game over vs marks 5 minutes earlier is SO important for their characters. theres so much good shit in that movie. take out the corny lines and jill mistreatment, and u have a lot to work with! so yes i do think that itd be more awesome. i love saw 3D and what it did for his character. im not sure how saw iii hostage lawrence wouldve expanded on his character, but id rather go with saw 3D bc im confident they didnt butcher his character. im glad that a beloved protagonist is a complete narc, and hes still beloved! im never giving that up

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[sinnaminsuga]

𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 - sub!hyunjin x sub!reader x dom!chan

wc: 2,804

cw: hyunjin is a slut, so is the reader, chan likes it that way. SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: while shooting the red lights mv chan noticed something about hyunjin and now he's got a theory he wants to test, he just needs your help.

a/n: was literally plagued with visions of overstimulating hyunjin and making him cry soooo this is what i ended up with. oops. also if there are any spelling errors pls don't tell me bc ive read this trash so many times trying to work it all out and if i have to re-read it again i might go blind.

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), bondage, threesome, some gay shit, breeding, blowjobs, lingerie, deepthroating, general toughness, waxing poetic about hyunjins beautiful face. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

hwang hyunjin is beautiful. its a well documented fact, no ifs ands or buts about it. he has the kind of face ancient civilizations would have gone to war for. old world dynasties would have been reduced to rubble over a face like his. hwang hyunjin is the kind of beautiful where it almost hurts to look at him. it makes you question your belief in a higher power because, how could there possibly be any room for debate on if there is a God when there is simply no other reasonable explanation for how a devine creature like him came to exist on this earth? so with all that being said, there's no way he could get any more beautiful. or so you thought.

it had always been your assumption that there was no possible way he could look any more stunning than he naturally does; but your mind was changed the minute you saw the lithe expanses of his smooth milky skin held captive by blood red ropes. you felt an astounding amount of pride as your eyes bore witness to his soft flesh being pulled tight by the coarse material; the blood under his skin rushing to the surface where the ropes were knotted artfully over his collarbone, across his abdomen, splayed over his pelvis, looped around his upper thighs and finally circling the base of his dick. and you had worked hard to make sure the knots around his wrists and ankles were comfortable yet sturdy before attaching them to each bedpost.

you had taken your instructions very seriously, as the man giving them to you from edge of the bed, wouldn't allow any of this to continue if either of you were to disobey his direct orders, and dear god you would rather die than see this endeavor be cut short.

you admired your handiwork a bit more before the rumbling of a particular voice hit your ears.

“how do you feel baby? is this what you wanted? y/n did a good job huh? you look so pretty.” chan spoke softly to hyunjin, absentmindedly petting his head. hyunjin looked up at his leader and nodded, unsure if he could speak without whining as the ropes pulled across his body with every move.

“yeah i knew you'd like this. the whole time we were shooting “red lights” i saw you ya know? the way your breathing got shallow when the staff chained you up. the way your eyes glazed over when they gave you instructions to pull against your restraints. god, standing above you on that bed, watching you writhe below me was a sight to see. my good boy just wanted to be tied up and used huh?” chan said to him, his finger hooked under hyunjin's chin forcing his head up to look him in the eyes. a whimper forced its way out of him as his hips instinctually bucked and the the sensation of the ropes took over.

you couldn't drag your eyes away from his lower body. the sharp angle of his hipbones jutting up to the ceiling as his cock drooled uncontrollably, the fluid flowing from his tip dribbling down to darken the rope wrapped snugly around the base of him. without even thinking you reached out and wrapped your hand around his shaft, you were just so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him. the feeling was unexpected and the sound that punched its way out of hyunjin's chest was glorious. his body attempted to curl in on itself but the ropes kept him firmly in place. you watched the range of emotions flicker over his face in rapid succession; surprise at your initial touch, pleasure from finally being granted a little stimulation, sensitivity from being denied his pleasure for so long, shock when he remembered the restraints keeping him spread open, frustration at not being able to move, and finally acceptance as he gave in to the languid stroking you were doing. he continued to toss as the pleasure took over, thrashing wildly against the mattress and moaning into the pillow.

hyunjin's noises were reduced to whimpers as chan’s hand squeezed around his jaw, directing hyunjin to look him in the eyes. “shhh baby boy, y/n is gonna make you feel good okay? you'll let her do that, won’t you? you'll lay there and take what i let her give you, understood? words please, jinnie.” chan cooed. “yes daddy. i'll be good for you, for her too i promise. i'll be your perfect boy just like always, i promise, please! god just please keep touching me!” hyunjin choked out, making chan grin. he leapt up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and rounded the corner until he was standing behind you. you repressed a shudder as chan’s hand slid up your back, tracing over your spine and occasionally tripping over the straps of the lingerie set you were wearing. his hand glided up into your hair with ease until his palm cradled the base of your skull, then suddenly he locked his fingers to grab your hair firmly by the roots and pulled you upright so your back was against his chest as he angled your head to the left exposing the expanse of your neck. the suddenness of his movements caused you to lose your grip on hyunjin’s dick and he cried out from the loss of contact, his hips frantically bucking into the air in a fruitless attempt to find friction.

chan hummed as his lips made contact with the skin of your neck and continued as he licked, nipped, and sucked at your flesh. he hooked his chin over your shoulder as his right hand charted a course down your abdomen to the apex of your thighs where the pads of his thick fingers rubbed over your damp slit. when you could finally manage to pry your lids open, you locked eyes with hyunjin. he was practically panting watching chan devour your throat and palm your pussy. “so pretty y/n, y’look so pretty. like a dream. want to paint you one day, just like that.” he whispered. hyunjin's words and gaze coupled with chan's wandering hands and skilled mouth were almost enough to send you over the edge.

“now here’s what's next my loves. y/n, you're going to get on your knees, lean down on your elbows and suck hyunjin's pretty dick right into the back of your throat okay? i want you to take him as far as you can, and quickly. do not stop until i tell you to. not if he begs, not if he cries, not if he screams. got it?” you nodded as well as you could with his left hand still in your hair. chan released you and you quickly got into the position he had described, gently grabbing hold of hyunjin's cock. “i’m sorry jinnie, but you know i have to.” you quipped right before you took him into your mouth and as far into your throat as you could manage. the garbled noise that ripped its way out of hyunjin's throat threw you into over drive as you bobbed your head and sucked him like your life depended on it. he was groaning deeply and his limbs were flailing the best they could in his current predicament. his back arched up off the mattress so beautifully you wished chan would take a photo.

“fuck, fuck, FUCK. jesus chri- oh my god! y/n, sweetheart slow down- PLEASE! oh fuck i can- i can feel- fucking fuck. i can feel your throat squeezing me so tight!” hyunjin wailed throwing his head back, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as he grit his teeth.

suddenly chan’s hand made its way to your pussy again and you gasped around the thickness embedded in your throat causing hyunjin to hiss.

“crotchless panties angel? so proud of you. always so prepared for daddy huh? know just what i like.” chan muttered from behind you. you heard the telltale jingle of his belt being opened and the zipper being lowered on his jeans. he had already removed his shirt earlier so he was naked quickly, and he wasted no time before rubbing the head of his dick along your weeping folds.

“now i'm going to fuck you nice and deep the way you like and i want you to keep sucking my good boy okay?” chan said but before you could respond he shoved himself into you in one swift thrust. chan was not small in girth or length for that matter but the stretch you felt every time he fucked you open was delicious. you couldn't help but moan around the cock in your mouth which in turn caused hyunjin to scream at the unexpected vibration. chan’s laugh that followed was dark and proud, thrilled that he held so much power and that you both let him use it.

“fuuuuck sweet girl this cunt is always so fucking tight huh? doesn't matter how many times i fuck you or let someone else fuck you, you always snap right back. god i love being inside you.” chan growled as his hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he pummeled his way in and out of your slippery hole. the whole time he was fucking you, you were being forced onto hyunjin's cock as well, every moan muffled by the thickness battering your throat.

“hyunjin is y/n a good cocksucker? hmm? you think? you think she's better than you were?” chan taunted him as he drove himself inside you over and over again. “remember when we had our first one on one meeting? just me and you alone in the studio? i said 'hyunjin if you really are serious and want to stay in this group i need one thing from you’ do you remember that? i do.” you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see him. hyunjin groaned and mumbled what sounded like a yes. “i also remember how fast you sank to your knees and scrambled to try and open my belt. you thought i wanted you to suck me off to stay in the band. and you were so willing to give me whatever i wanted. all i was going to ask you for was your loyalty and your honesty in all things. but you offered up that pretty mouth quick as a bitch and who was i to say no?” chan laughed at the memory as he threw a foot up onto the bed to change the angle he was fucking into you from so he was now nailing your gspot on every thrust.

“y-yes i remember. ‘course i do. i knew w-what you were gonna ask me because felix told me beforehand what you were going to ask, what you asked a-all of them. i just- fuck yes keep sucking y/n im so close. i jus’ wanted you so bad i thought if i tried and y-you didn't want me back it would just be an easily brushed off m-misunderstanding.” hyunjin whined, his hands balled up into fists, knuckles white.

“y/n suck him dry. now.” chan ordered and you sucked harder pulling a squeal out of hyunjin. “go on sweet boy. go ahead and cum. you earned it.” chan encouraged as he delivered a heavy smack to your ass. your muffled yelp was the final straw and hyunjin came hard into your mouth, his body attempting to lurch off the bed. you swallowed everything down and pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand. as chan continued to ram into you, you mirrored his thrusts with the fist wrapped tightly around hyunjin's still hard cock.

“stop stop stop please! god please i can- i can't take it! it's too sensitive please!” hyunjin cried. “yes you can baby. you can take it. trust me.” chan cooed. feeling bold you leaned forward once again and sucked hyunjin's tip harshly while lashing the tip of your tongue over his slit.

“FUCK! no no no no it's too m- too much. stop stop stop!” hyunjin continued to wail. he was begging you to relent but he also didn't use his safeword so you knew he didnt really want it to stop. the sound was like music to chan's ears and the rhythmic clenching of your cunt around him propelled him quickly toward his own orgasm.

“i'm gonna cum in you okay baby? gonna breed this pretty pussy, stuff it full of my cum. that what you want? yeah it is isn't it?” chan rambled and you moaned out a “yes please daddy” right before he exploded inside you. your hand around hyunjin never stopped moving and he was crying now. big fat tears rolling down his cheeks from the overstimulation.

chan pulled out of you and watched your hole flutter, pushing out his seed. he murmured a string of praises as he watched the glistening fluid drip out of you. you looked over your shoulder at him, jutting your lower lip out.

“daddy i didn't get to cum yet. can i?” you asked.

“go ahead baby. make yourself cum.” chan said with a wave of his hand and an evil grin etched on his face. you grinned right back before scrambling up hyunjin's body and straddling him.

“wh-what are you doing? oh...oh no. no no no. please it's so sensitive it's so so sensitive y/n i can't!” hyunjin hiccuped, tears still flowing. you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cheek, lapping up the briny liquid seeping from his eyes. then you whispered “oh jinnie, don't you want me to feel good too? i worked so hard after all.” you reached behind you and positioned his tip at your entrance before effortlessly sliding down onto him. you moaned as he filled you and he once again thrashed against the ropes wrapped around him. you started to ride him in earnest, aching for your own release at this point. the man beneath you was mumbling incoherently about how good your pussy feels and how badly he wants to come again. chan sauntered over and perched next to hyunjin again, reaching out to pet his head and pepper his face with kisses.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck i'm gonna cum!” you cried as you worked yourself over hyunjin’s dick and used one hand to furiously rub your clit.

“daddy shes squeezing me so hard i don't think i ca- can get out. can i cum inside?” hyunjin pleaded with chan. “of course you can baby, right sweetheart? you want jinnie’s cum inside you don't you?” you just nodded in response. “my girl loves to be creampied you never have to ask. just go ahead baby boy.” chan explained. you drove yourself down onto hyunjin twice more and then you were cumming, mouth dropping open as your inner walls milked him for all he was worth. hyunjin spasmed beneath you as he came and came and came inside you. he wasn't speaking anymore, just making these stunted little sounds as his body shook with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

chan had begun to untie the ropes as you slowly lifted yourself off of hyunjin. you whispered praise to him as he has hummed, completely fucked out and boneless beneath you.

“shhh it's okay sweetheart. you did so good for us baby. we’re gonna put you to bed now okay?” chan murmured to the man shaking in the bed. hyunjin managed to croak out an “uh-huh” in response. you grabbed a bottle of lotion from nearby and began to work it into the reddened skin all over him where the ropes had been, while chan wiped down hyunjin's groin with a warm cloth. you hummed a tune you knew hyunjin loved and his eyes fluttered shut, a tiny smile making its way to his face.

after everything was put away and the room was right again, chan crawled into the bed to spoon hyunjin’s half asleep form while you crawled in the other side to press yourself to hyunjin's still somewhat heaving chest. you pulled the blanket up high and tucked yourself into his warm skin and he wound an arm around your waist. chan's hand rested on hyunjin's hip, squeezing the flesh there every so often.

being here felt so right, so natural, so easy. loving these two was as easy as breathing. you couldn't believe it had taken this long to get here but now that you had, you weren't letting them go. before your eyes fell closed you heard the sound of chan's lips kissing along hyunjin's shoulder before he whispered “rest now my loves. because i have big plans for you tomorrow.”

THE END

[ahqkas]

♯ TOO SWEET ; mattheo riddle

❛ i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you’re too sweet for me ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! in which mattheo recalled the two times you were too sweet for him (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 4.1k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! consummation of alcohol, lovesick mattheo, fluff, angst, a lot of my hcs for mattheo’s past (i wrote him the way i see him), lmk if i missed smth !!

NOTES! this is purely my view on mattheo’s character bc the hc i wrote suit him sm 😿😿 reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

ONCE A MAN FALLS IN LOVE, he finds himself drawn to not just the physical beauty of his muse, but for the essence of who the person truly is - their quirks, intelligence, kindness, and their unique way of seeing the world. Every interaction, every shared experience, every memory he brings, adds another layer to his adoration towards the love of his life.

His love for them is evident in the little things - the way he watches them when they aren't looking, the small gestures of thoughtfulness, the silent support during their dark moments of life. It's in the way he listens, truly listens, to the hopes and dreams, fears and frustrations, always eager to offer his thoughts and ideas. This love manifests in his desire to be their anchor in times of storm, their cheerleader in moments of triumph, and their person in all the in-betweens. It is a love that values their independence and individuality, recognizing that they are their own person with their own journey, and yet, he longs to be a part of that journey, to walk alongside them and share in their joys and sorrows of life.

Mattheo Riddle was no different.

He marvels at your kindness, your sweetness, and the light you bring into his life. You are his muse, his inspiration, a spark of the goodness that stands in stark contrast to his own perceived flaws and insecurities he feels deep inside himself. He sees you as an angel, a pure and radiant being who somehow chose to share your life with him, despite his own imperfections and inner demons.

He sees you as an angel in a human form, who chose to live among the devils, just so he could feel the heavenly touch for the first and last time in all eternity.

He often wonders how he, with all his rough edges, hidden scars, and a past life without a happy memory, could be worthy of your love. He feels like a monster, haunted by past mistakes and burdened by the weight of his own fears and failings. You, on the other hand, are everything he aspires to be - kind, compassionate, and endlessly forgiving. Your presence in his life is a constant reminder of the beauty and grace that he lacks, and yet, your love makes him strive to be better, to rise above his darkness and become someone worthy of your affection.

In his heart, he knows that your love is transforming him, helping him to heal and grow. Your existence is a light that dispels his inner darkness, a reminder for him to cherish that even monsters like him can be loved. He clings to this, that your love is making him a better man, one day at a time.

01. THE PARTY

The Slytherin common room was full of shadows and flickering lights, transformed into a wild moment of freedom for the night. The music, a thundering beat that echoed off the stone walls, could be heard from miles away, yet no professor or ghost visited the common room to cancel the party. It was as if the ancient castle itself had granted this one night of freedom to its most cunning and ambitious students. The rhythmic thrum of bass notes and the infectious melody of the latest wizarding hits filled the air, blending with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.

Bodies moved in a hypnotic dance, swaying in sync with the music. The students had discarded their usual aloof demeanors and uniforms, lost in the euphoria and joy of the moment. Green and silver decorations adorned every surface, shimmering under the enchanted lights that hung from the ceiling like glowing jewels. Laughter rang out, high and clear, mingling with the deep, resonant hum of conversation.

In one corner, a group of seventh years huddled together, their heads bent close in a whisper, before erupting into loud laughter. Nearby, a couple twirled around each other, their bodies intertwining like dark waves, eyes locked in their private world amidst the chaos around them. The fireplace, usually a place of quiet contemplation, was now surrounded by students perched on its stone ledge, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the night and alcohol.

Long tables filled with food and drink stretched along one wall, bearing the weight of a feast other students could be jealous of. Platters of magical meals, charmed to stay warm, smelled of aromas that mingled with the scent of butterbeer and stronger beverages. Bottles of firewhisky and elf-made wine were passed from hand to hand, each sip fueling the atmosphere more and more as drunken the students got. The alcohol flowed freely, loosening tongues, transforming even the shyest students into party animals of the night.

The Slytherin common room had never felt so alive. Tonight, they were not just the students of Hogwarts; they were a family, united by their house and their understanding of what it meant to be a Slytherin.

Mattheo Riddle was one of those students who were enjoying themselves tonight. His breathing features were illuminated by the green lights as he leaned casually against a stone wall, a cup of firewhisky filled to the brim in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed perilously close to the edge with each of his slowed gestures, but Mattheo seemed unconcerned, clearly lost in the haze of alcohol. His dark curls, usually styled in the way that made uncountable amount of girls fall on their knees, now fell loose around his face as you watched from a close distance.

He was engaged in a drunken conversation with Theodore Nott, whose tall, lanky frame was the opposite to Mattheo's more athletic build. Theo's typically serious demeanor had softened, his features relaxed into a rare, genuine smile as he listened to Mattheo's ramblings with a giggle threatening to spill out from his lips. The two of them, often seen together, now looked like true brothers. It was almost scary how much they resembled family when they were drunk.

Mattheo's voice, rich and slightly slurred, carried over the music as he recounted a particularly outrageous story from his recent fight. Theodore threw his head back and laughed. It was clear to anyone how close those two boys were, drunk or sober.

"Can you believe he actually thought I was serious?" Mattheo snickered with a big grin stretching across his face, taking a swig from his cup, the whiskey burning a warm path down his throat. "I mean, I barely managed to keep a straight face!"

Theodore laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a menace, Riddle. One of these days, you're going to get expelled."

"Ah, but tonight isn't that night, mate," Mattheo replied with a slow wink, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To living dangerously and laughing in the face of consequences!"

They clinked their cups together, the sound barely audible over the throbbing beat of the music and you thought now was the best time to approach your boyfriend. 

Mattheo's brown irises scanned the crowd, catching a look of you as you pushed your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The sight of you instantly brightened his expression and a genuine smile spread across his face. He felt a rush of emotions that the whiskey in his hand only intensified, each beat of his heart echoing with the certainty that what he held for you was pure love. The Slytherin straightened up, his posture shifting from the casual slouch of a carefree boy to the attentive stance of a man. Theodore noticed the change and a knowing smirk made its appearance on his lips as he stepped aside, giving the two of you a moment of privacy. 

"[Name]," your boyfriend called out, his voice full of warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you came closer. "There you are, love."

You beamed up at him, your eyes reflecting the party's enchanted lights, making them look like twin stars. "Having fun, are we?" you teased and the tone of your voice carried a playful match that always managed to make his heart skip a beat. 

"Only now that you're here," he replied. The world around you seemed to blur as he gazed down at you, all the noise and chaos fading into the background. "You make everything better."

Drunk on both the whiskey and his overwhelming affection, the boy's usual reservations melted away. He held you close, his hands resting on your waist as if anchoring himself to your presence. When he was sober or feeling down at heart, his love for you was often hidden beneath layers of stoicism and insecurity, but now, in this moment of happy drunkenness, it shone through. 

He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, enjoying the sweetness of the contact. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of your love."

 “You have no idea what you mean to me. I look at you and . . . it’s like you’re the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around you, soaking up your light,” he continued without a break. The boy wanted to get every one of his words out as fast as humanly possible. To show you his hidden feelings he wasn't able to tell you before. “You’re my everything, [Name]. I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re so kind, so . . . good. And me? I’m just . . . I’m a mess, you know? A monster sometimes.” 

You shook your head lightly and took his hands into your own, enveloping him with your warmth. He was starting to get emotional, and you didn't need to have your boyfriend drunkenly mopping around. His mood changed like weather when alcohol got involved. “You’re not a monster, Mattheo. You’re human. We all have our demons.”

“But you,” he didn't allow you to finish your sentence before he spoke up again, his voice raw with sincerity, “you make me want to be better. For you. I see you, and I just want to be the man you deserve. I’m not always good at it, but I try. I try because you’re worth it.” 

You could see the glazed look in his eyes as he swayed slightly on the spot. He was rough around the edges, you couldn't deny the truth, but he was the sweetest boy when he managed to fall in love. Which wasn't exactly difficult, Mattheo fell in love easily. But when he did, it was worth everything. Mattheo was your sweet boy. “Love,” you said softly to him, your voice filled with gentle concern to the brim, “you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it’s time to slow down a little, okay?”

Mattheo blinked, giving you a lopsided grin, his expression a mix of boyish charm and pure happiness. “But I’m fine, [nickname]. I feel great. Better than great, actually. With you here, everything’s perfect.”

“I know you’re having a good time, but I don’t want you to feel terrible tomorrow. Let’s take a break from the firewhisky for now, alright?”

He pouted slightly, his shoulders slumping as he realized you were actually serious. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “But only because you’re asking me.” You chuckled softly at his behavior, threading your fingers through his and gently leading him away from the dancing crowd. You navigated through the common room, moving towards a quieter corner of the space where a plush couch sat, inviting you both in with open arms. The room’s enchantments cast soft shadows on the walls, the flickering lights creating a soothing atmosphere.

“Here, sit down,” you instructed as you guided him to sit on the couch. Mattheo obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sat beside him, your hand never leaving his. You took the half-empty cup of whiskey from his hold, reaching for a glass of water on the table nearby instead and handing it to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Mattheo took the glass, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He took a long sip, the cool water a welcome relief from the heat of the alcohol he consumed. “You really do take good care of me, don’t you?” he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and exhaustion.

“Someone has to,” you replied playfully, brushing a stray curl of hair from his forehead. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

As the night wore on, Mattheo felt a warmth spreading through him that was only partly due to the whiskey. It was the warmth of belonging, of being surrounded by friends who understood and accepted him, flaws and all. Despite his often rough exterior, he was deeply grateful for these moments, these stolen hours of joy in the corners of the Slytherin common room.

02 - THE MARK

The past has a profound power to shape a man, especially when that past is influenced by suffering at the hands of a father. 

For Mattheo Riddle, his family history was the darkest shadow of all the shadows that clung to him, a reminder of the pain and fear that had molded his entire life. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, where love was a foreign concept and cruelty was a daily reality, Mattheo had learned to build tall and thick walls around his heart. A shield to protect him from more hurt that would come his way. 

The orphanage was a harsh place, stripped of the luxuries the boy had unknowingly been born into. It was a world of strict discipline and a poor form of affection. The caretakers, overwhelmed and underfunded, had little patience for a child with such a notorious legacy. Mattheo grew up under the weight of whispers and sideways glances, the infamous name "Riddle" ensuring he was never just another child. The women of the orphanage knew his father, having taken care of him when he was around the same age as his son. What a wicked child Tom was. Mattheo was different because of that, marked, and this awareness shaped his formative years in ways he could barely comprehend.

As he grew older, the whispers about his family name became more pronounced. The children at the orphanage were cruel. “Monster,” they called him, creating the very fears that nested within his own heart. He began to internalize these taunts, seeing himself through the lens of his father's sins. The idea that he could be worthy of love seemed more and more distant, more of a fantasy that had no place in his reality. But the same idea of letting someone see past his defenses, of allowing someone to love him despite his flaws, seemed not only impossible but dangerous. For how could anyone love a monster, especially one crafted by his own father?

Despite this, Mattheo yearned for something more. He longed for the kind of love he had never known, a love that was gentle and kind, that saw past his scars and accepted him for who he was. But every time he felt himself getting close to someone, the fear surged up, a wave of doubt and self-loathing washed over him and forced him to retreat behind his walls again. It was a never-ending cycle.

Hogwarts had saved him. 

Mattheo Riddle’s first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were met with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and apprehension. For the other students, he was a figure of whispered rumors, his infamous last name carrying with it a weight of fear and fascination. They had heard the stories of his father’s dark acts, of the legacy that haunted the halls of the castle like a ghost. But for Mattheo himself, Hogwarts represented a new beginning, a chance to escape the personal hell he called the orphanage and create his own path. The boy was no longer just another orphan. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be.

He wasn't deaf. The young boy could feel the weight of his father’s name bearing down on him like an invisible burden. And he wasn't blind either. He saw the way the other students looked at him, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and suspicion. They didn’t openly taunt him as the children in the orphanage had done, but he could sense the whispers and the wary glances that followed him wherever he went. For Mattheo, however, their fear was a source of power. He reveled in the attention, in the way his presence commanded respect, even if it was tinged with fear. He was finally someone. 

He excelled in his classes, his natural talent and restless ambition setting him apart from his peers. But it was on the Quidditch pitch that Mattheo truly came into his own. Flying high above the castle grounds, he felt a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. With every twist and turn of his broomstick, he left behind the weight of his past and embraced the thrill of the present, making him feel like a bird. 

Six years had passed since Mattheo Riddle first walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts, a hopeful and determined young wizard with dreams of greatness he was so sure he'd achieve. But now, as he entered his sixth year at the renowned school of magic, the world around him had shifted irrevocably. The return of Lord Voldemort two years prior had plunged the wizarding world into chaos, and with it, Mattheo’s life had been destroyed once again.

Even among his fellow Slytherins, Mattheo felt like an outsider, a traitor to his own house and everything it stood for. He had once prided himself on his ambition and cunning, on his unwavering determination to succeed at any cost. But it didn't matter anymore. 

Mattheo sat alone in the quiet atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze fixed on the night sky that sparkled with millions of stars. Each twinkling light seemed to mock him, making fun of the darkness that now stained his soul even more than before. His fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket tightly, as if seeking some comfort in the fabric, but finding none.  

 On his left forearm, the Dark Mark burned like a brand upon his skin. It was a mark of shame, of betrayal, and every time he looked upon it, he felt a sickening sense of disgust and self-loathing. He had thought that by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, his father, he would finally be able to escape the shadows of his past, to prove himself worthy of the name Riddle and his father's presence. But now, he realized that he had only succeeded in plunging himself deeper into the deep hole. Even the orphanage was better than this. 

The footsteps behind him shattered the sweet silence, echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Mattheo tensed, his heart racing as he turned to face the intruder, steeling himself for whatever judgment or punishment awaited him. But as he turned, he was met not with the accusing glare of Filch or the triumphant sneer of a rival, but with the concerned gaze of a familiar face. It was you, with your eyes filled with worry as you approached him slowly, as if he'd disappear if you were a bit louder. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?”

No, he wasn't alright. But he would be caught dead sooner than having you worry about him like that and more. 

He forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the emotions raging within him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the facade. “Just . . . thinking.”

You stepped closer, taking a seat on the ground beside him. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mattheo. I know something’s been troubling you lately. You can talk to me.”

You were his angel, full of that purity and light he adored about you in a world darkened by his own sins. He longed to confide in you, to unburden himself of the guilt and shame that had consumed him since he had received the Dark Mark. But the fear of your rejection, of you seeing him for the monster he believed himself to be, held him back. It would shatter his heart, to see the pained expression on your face. 

“I . . .” he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words, "there's something I need to show you." With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mattheo finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth to you. For months, he had carried the burden of the dark secret alone, pushing you out and shutting you down in an attempt to shield and protect you from the darkness that was his father. But now, as he sat before you, his heart and his soul laid bare, he knew that he could no longer hide from the truth. The boy reached for the sleeve of his jacket, his fingers fumbling as he pushed the fabric up to reveal the twisted lines of the Dark Mark etched upon his skin. The sight of it made him recoil, a wave of shame washing over him as he exposed his deepest, darkest secret to the one person he had sworn to protect.

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the mark, your palm flying to your mouth in disbelief. For a long moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing and the distant hum of the night owls. 

“I received this a few weeks ago," Mattheo confessed, his eyes avoiding yours. "When he decided I was good enough for him."

He felt your gaze on him, eyes searching his face for answers. He could see the confusion and concern written in your expression, but beneath it all, he saw something else - a flicker of understanding and acceptance that filled him with both hope and fear. How can someone be so good to someone like him? "I've been living with the Malfoys ever since," he continued, the words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to explain himself. "But it's not what you think, [Name]. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a part of his plans, to be branded as one of his followers. But I had no choice. He made me do it."   

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, and he felt a desperate plea for forgiveness in his chest. He needed you to understand, to see past the mistakes that consumed him and into the depths of his soul where his love for you burned bright and true. The thought of losing you hurt him more than the Cruciatus curse ever could. 

“Forgive me. For shutting you out, for pushing you away. I was scared, I was ashamed . . . but I can't bear to keep this secret from you any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if it means losing you forever." 

Your heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow as you gazed upon Mattheo, your sweet boy, sitting there before you with tears in his eyes and the weight of the world upon his shoulders. In that moment, all you wanted was to wrap him in your arms and shield him from the pain and darkness that threatened to consume him. With shaky hands, you reached out to him, fingers brushing against the mark of his father's followers etched upon his skin. The sight of it filled you with a fit of fierce anger, but beneath it all, you saw the boy you so dearly loved - a boy who had been shaped by his past but who was so much more than the picture of his scars. 

"Love," you whispered into the dark, taking his face into your hands and wiping away those tears that managed to escape his control, "there's nothing to forgive. Nothing in this world could ever tear us apart, not even your father or that mark."

In that moment, Mattheo knew that he would do anything for you, that he would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness and safety. You were his light in the darkness, his angel in a world filled with demons, and he would cherish that for the time being his heart swelled at the thought of you. You were simply too sweet for him and you knew that Mattheo’s struggles were far from over, but for tonight, that was enough.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

[hannieehaee]

luna, my beloved,

can i get a very down bad (and also very horny) woozi, please?? he just gives me the vibes of a very obsessed boyfie when he's truly in love.

also, i love your works so much!!!! ♡♡♡

18+ / mdi

content: simp!jihoon, established relationship, afab reader, smut, dry humping, very fluffy, jihoon is insanely in love with reader its disgusting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, etc.

wc: 2157

a/n: thank u so much!! <3 i rewrote this four times bc way too many scenarios of woozi being down bad plagued my brain (still do), so i hope u enjoy what i came up with <3

masterlist

even after months, jihoon was unable to understand this weird feeling in his chest. one that he only ever got when he was around you (and on occasion whenever he thought about you). it was some sort of inexplicable heaviness. the beating of his heart would speed up and it would feel as if time slowed down. every touch and every breath felt like a sensible decision, and his thoughts would turn into static.

sometimes it was just in the background. sometimes he'd hold your hand or listen to you rant about your day and still be able to act as a functioning human. but there were times in which it simply overtook him.

he had had relationships before; both physical and not, but he had never experienced this feeling before. jihoon was unsure whether or not he liked it. it made him feel weak, but also made him feel more.

there were instances in which this feeling would be accompanied by lust. one accidental peak of a sliver of skin of your thigh and his lips would go completely dry. one grace of your hand a little too close to a sensitive part of his body and his knees would buckle. he was unsure if you knew about how easily it was for you to get him ready to plea for even one touch, but the truth was that it didnt matter. there was no space in his empty head to think about it in those moments.

truth was, jihoon was insanely enamored by you. some (soonyoung) would call him 'down bad' for you, but jihoon liked his term better. being enamored entailed that jihoon adored everything about you, with the pleasure you gave him included among those things. though there were times in which his lust simply grew so big that jihoon could admit to simply being down bad horrendously for you.

currently, that feeling in his chest was ever so present, and he knew that his lust was just about to take over. nothing had yet happened, but still, he felt a desperation that brought a crimson color to his ears. just looking at you as you slept beside him had him holding in a whine of your name.

to be fair, you looked angelic in this moment. you were facing him – although your face was almost completely pressed up against your pillow. your arms were wrapped around your chest in front of you, causing your breasts to press up together in the form of soft mounds peeking from under your tank top. your blanket was covering most of your body but still gave him sight of some of your shoulder. your hair was covering most of your features yet he could still rejoice in your mushed up face as you seemingly made yourself as small as possible. soft breaths coming from you were the only thing he could hear. his senses were all overtaken by you, even as he leaned down and quietly smelled the floral scent from your shampoo.

the beating of his heart was so loud he was sure it ran the risk of waking you up.

it's not that he was nervous, he was simply too caught up in you. every emotion you ever made him feel was making its way to the surface, causing his hands to clam up and his lips to run dry. he wanted to touch you so badly, but he knew that the moment he did, he would fall to his undeniable lust for you. it was hard for him to simply adore you from a distance, as his carnal feelings for you would always take over somehow.

however, his need for you won, making an embarrassing side of himself take over and pull you closer to him in order to wake you up un the softest way he could. he began to pepper kisses on the nude sliver of skin your shoulder offered him, breathing heavily as he prepared himself for what he knew would come as soon as you arose from slumber.

it was only a few moments later in which you began waking up, murmuring his name in that soft morning voice he loved so much.

he hadn't mean to sound so desperate that soon, but the moment he felt you begin to arch against his hold, – encouraging him to keep kissing any available skin – he couldnt help his pleas to let him have you in a way he relished in knowing only he had the privilege of having you.

"a– angel, please ... need you so bad ..." were the first words out of his mouth, murmured against your neck as his hands rubbed at your hips through the blanket.

"hoonie? what's wrong?", you were clearly still half asleep, only taking in his touches but not computing the words he was saying. but it was fine. he could be more specific if need be.

"you're so soft ... so pretty. can i have you, angel? please?" he didnt care how desperate his first words to you that morning sounded. he never felt any shame in showing you just how badly he always wanted you.

"oh, hoonie ...", you breathed, removing the blanket from the way and pressing yourself even closer to him.

the two of you were now curled up against each other with no distance between your bodies as you faced one another. with your lack of clothing, – him in just boxers and you in a tiny tank top and booty shorts to match – jihoon was now able to feel you up as he wanted; something which he took advantage of immediately.

he finally disconnected his lips from your skin, now making eye contact at the close proximity between you. however, before even being able to express his want for you once more, his lust won over him again, making him press his lips against yours with urgency.

he moaned and whined against your lips, his hips searching for yours as he positioned himself above you. there was no way for him to help himself. you were just so soft and pretty and beautiful and perfect. nothing couldve possibly interrupted that cloud of lust that was taking over him.

jihoon still had trouble processing how such a pretty girl could ever be his. he knew he was in love with you since the day he met you. just from a first glance, he thought you the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. speaking to you as acquaintances had been hard, but befriending you had been the biggest challenge. even back then, his feelings for you manifested in very noticeable ways. all his friends would mock him for the way he'd stumble over his words or stare at you a little too much. luckily for him, this did not last long. by some grand act of god, you had found some sort of liking towards him, giving him various obvious openings for him to finally ask you out (and admittedly, it took a lot of silent encouragement from you to get him to finally act up).

upon starting your relationship, it didnt take long for jihoon to make his adoration for you known, constantly letting you know how perfect he found you in any and every capacity. all his defenses would go down when he was around you, causing him to wax poetic whenever his emotions took over him – not to mention the endless files of love songs he had produced since meeting you. anything you desired, he would deliver just for the promise of your happiness.

your relationship had him thinking that maybe his past self suffered a grand deal in a past life; just enough for karmic retribution to grant him the girl of his dreams in the next.

and that's how he felt at this moment, grinding his clothed cock against your cunt as you whined into his mouth. could life get better than this? better than having the love of his life mewling into his mouth as he carelessly canted his cock into the warm heaven between your legs? he couldnt help but groan at the reminder than you were all his, and that he had access to every inch of your breathtaking body for his and your pleasure.

"fuck ... wanna fuck you, but you feel so fucking good like this– shit ..."

"dont stop ... i can cum like this. promise!", you cried whilst pulling at his hair, assuring his mouth stayed glued to yours.

as much as he wanted to keep letting you lick into his mouth and pulling at his hair, he was craving the two mounds that were pressing up against his chest. without further thinking, he disconnected your lips, groaning at the way you tried to chase his lips before hearing you whine once again due to his rushed removal of your top and the feeling of his tongue toying with your tit.

he practically devoured your tits, licking and nipping at every inch of them before using the tip of his tongue to play with your nipples. the way you cried his name had him losing his inhibitions, making him grind even harder and faster against you. your gorgeous and warm cunt was the only thing in his mind.

despite wanting to give you an orgasm just like this, he needed more. he needed your cunt strangling him as he chased both your highs.

"can i fuck you? please ... i know you wanna cum like this, but i cant last ... wa– wanna last for you, but you just feel so ... so fucking good."

"please, hoonie. fuck me .."

he hadnt moved faster in his life, discarding his boxers and your shorts in order to prepare himself for you, but suddenly it hit him.

"baby ... c– condom? do you have any?", he had forgotten to buy new ones before you stayed over last night, so he was hoping against all hope that maybe you had some in your discarded bag in the living room.

"no, hoonie, i .. i don't have any," your eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but he could tell you were still lightheaded from the pleasure you had been feeling just a few moments ago.

"oh, i ... i can just dry hump you? yeah, uh, i'll just–", he couldnt help himself in sounding deflated. he wanted your cunt so fucking badly, but had stupidly used his last backup condom last night.

"or ... you can just .."

his head perked up at that, halting before even starting to grind his hips against yours again.

"baby– "

"just go without it, hoonie. i trust you," you gave him a soft smile, holding onto his cheek before pulling him down for a peck.

"oh, i ... fuck. y– you– " his brain was short circuiting. raw? you were going to let him have it raw? oh. oh, fuck.

"baby, please i need you so fucking badly."

he could never say no to you. as per usual, he gave you exactly what you wanted, ignoring how badly this moment would ruin him; corrupt him and smear his brain with thoughts of your unfiltered cunt for years to come.

and ruin him it did, as he immediately lost himself the moment he entered you, groaning at the warmth and wetness coating his cock.

"you're perfect. god, fuck ... you– you're going to ruin me, arent you? you al-already have, shit ... you're my dream ... love you so fucking much, oh fuck ... make me yours and never give me back, i– i need to be yours. need you every day, fuck, please ..." he babbled senselessly as his hips went crazy against yours, drinking in every cry you released and groaning at every scratch of your nails against his back.

he was already close from having dry humped you through his boxers while he made out with you earlier, but now he knew his end was just around the corner. begging you to cum inside was likely out of the question, but his body demanded he at least try, except you somehow beat him to it.

"baby, inside, please! need you to fill me up ... fuck, please ..."

he had no way to respond other than by crying your name against your neck, relishing on the sound of slapping skin as he chased his end inside you with the desperation of a starved man.

with multiple expletives and confessions of love hidden between cries of pleasure, the two of you came one right after the other, kissing each other all throughout your highs.

now jihoon felt nothing but unfiltered bliss. he held you in his arms and caressed your body to the best of his tired ability, continuing to tell you sweet words of affirmation as you did the same in return.

jihoon was more than fine with being obsessed with you if it meant having you all to himself like this. he would gladly get teased about being down horrendously bad for you as long as he had you in the end.

[astralis-ortus]

beyond forever and eternity

✱ husband!bc x fem!reader

— love cannot survive on luck alone.

w.count → 0.8k genre → fluff warning → chan referred to as chris, quite the amount of kisses, mild cussing, and the usual very ew-you're-so-in-love behavior. also, reader is addressed as wifey twice! a.n → based on this request! but friends, i think you need to stop me from all this domestic chan thing because i!! am!! dying!! from!! all!! the!! cuteness!!ㅠ /j ⋆ see masterlist

the past year had felt like the best time of your life.

sure, the first 6 months were filled with one heck of an emotional rollercoaster—a bunch of final wedding preparations, taking care of all the confusing legal papers, making sure your new home with chris was up to both your expectations, and actually having the wedding within the span of 180 days made you wonder if everything was real.

the latter part of the year is when your new reality starts to sink in. some days, it happened when you woke up next to a softly snoring chris—curls as messy as a bird’s nest, yet you couldn’t help but tread your fingers through those dark locks. some others, it happened when you watch his back while he showed off his newly acquired cooking skill, giggling away while chris convinces you—though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself—that eveything’s going exactly to plan.

other days, however, it happens simply when you caught a glance of the stack of beautiful silver bands on your ring finger, gleaming softly under the light of your cozy living room. you’d then look at your husband sitting next to you, faint crease decorating his forehead as his gaze focuses on a project he’d been working on for the past hour or so. you’d gently bring your finger to tap on those crease, immediately erasing its existence as chris shifted his focus towards you, gaze softening along the appearance of his dimpled smile.

being married to chris had felt like coming home—like he has always been everything you’ve been looking for and more.

“has it started?”

chris’ soft voice along with the warmth of his arm snaking around your waist swiftly snapped you out of your trance, gaze returning to your husband’s smile. you silently shook your head, instead wrapping your arms around his waist and gave into his warmth while allowing a content sigh to slip past your lips. “wasn’t paying attention, honestly,” you admitted, to which he immediately returned with chuckle.

“you’re sleepy?” he gently planted his lips on your forehead while running his palm on your side. “wanna call it a night?”

“no!” you whined, lips pursing in protest. “i’m not sleepy. besides, it’s only like 2 minutes till new year, and i want to spend the first seconds awake with my husband,” you playfully emphasized—and there it was. the rosy bloom across his face quietly surfaces despite chris’ attempt to play it cool, and it never fails to amuse you.

guess it won’t be hard for you to bet that you’ll never be the only one in love in this relationship.

“gosh, wifey,” looking at you with a scrunched nose, chris finally let the adoration bubbling in his chest win when he playfully ruffles your hair—which, of course, earns a string of protests from you, “do you really love me that much?”

“think so,” you stuck out your tongue, eyes twinkling as you decide to further tease your now-red-as-a-tomato husband. “i think i love you so so so much to the point i might pass out. i mean, how can i not? you’re charming, you’re adorable, you’re handsome, you’re hot as fuck—how do you expect me not to? i’m just—“

you haven’t been paying attention—but again, how could you? your gaze had been fixated on chris’ beautiful features, taking notes on every minuscule scar and freckles painted across his blooming face; but as the plush of his lips shuts off your rambling ones, warm hands cradling your equally warm cheeks,

you could hear the fireworks within you harmonize with the colorful blasts outside the window of your hotel room.

you know you’re lucky—despite believing in the concept of soulmates, you know there are universes where your path with chris’ remains as distant, separated parallel lines. you know that nurturing your relationship with chris will have its ups and downs. you know what you have now with chris will forever be both unbreakable and fragile,

and you’re determined to turn your every day with chris as special as it could be.

“happy new year, wifey,” he mumbled quietly, lips fixed into a smile as it grazed against yours when he finally pulled away. pads of fingers tucking the stray strands off your face, chris followed the kisses across your face—on your forehead, your closed eyelids, your rosy cheeks, your soft jaw, before he returned his lips home onto yours.

“thank you for staying with me—for promising­ your forever to me, and i’m looking forward to spending my eternity with you,” with a smile apparent on his lips, his gaze were soft as he tenderly peered into your glossy ones.

“i love you—more than words could ever explain.”

©��� astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[octoberautumnbox]

A Little Goes a Long Way

fromis_9 Roh Jisun & all the other frommies :DDDD

Categories: fluff, cooking, really light blood but it shouldnt be too big of an issue

Word count: 1.0k

a/n: prompt by @msafterhours!! im actually a dumbass bc i got the prompt completely wrong lmao but here yall go!! oki i hiatus again byeee

It’s something about the manner in which the knife cuts through meat and muscle–something about how things come together in the pot that makes Jisun happy as can be. Home isn’t home, she’d think, when the kitchen hasn’t got windows that rays of sun enter through on warm mornings, or when the cupboards and cabinets aren’t stocked for visiting friends or midnight snacks. There’s a romance, a magic, a unique rightness in a home where one cooks for both body and soul. 

“Good girl,” she muses, finding the beef sitting in a basin of water on the countertop, “can always count on Jiheonnie.” She replaces the now-cool water with a new pool fresh from the tap, before gathering the rest of the ingredients and getting to work. 

Jisun opens door after door of cupboards, taking out each of the rest of the ingredients in turn: green and brown onions, sesame seeds and sesame oil, sugar and salt, garlic and ginger, red and black pepper. Cute, she thought, that each had a partner. 

The sun watches intently from the other side of the window, filling her kitchen with a calming warmth you'd scarcely find anywhere else. The clouds rein in the too-intrusive rays, while specks of pollen merrily dance across the glass pane. With her celestial audience on the edge of their seats, she gets to work. 

“Yeah it's you, yeah it's you,” Jisun hums under her breath. She measures out each portion carefully, transferring them into tiny bowls that matched colors and handles and rims. It must be something in her bones today, how her step is sprightly and her fingers reach and flex with less poignancy than she's used to. 

It isn't long before she thinks back, a green onion steady between the countertop and her left hand while a knife is secure in her right, that she remembers when Jiwon held them wrong and almost cut her finger open. She recalls Hayoung slicing peppers, followed by onions, rubbing her eyes in between every couple of strokes to push away persistent tears that never seemed to run out. She smiles at the memory of Jiheon not knowing solid and liquid measuring cups were different, and the resultant cake falling flatter and growing firmer than their beloved maknae had liked. 

Her lip finds itself between her teeth, thinking “Good thing they have me,” as the once-long stalk of green onion grows shorter and shorter. “What would they do without me?”

And yet, it was nothing compared to the contrary. It waltzes to the front of her mind, amidst draining the thawed beef of its former frost, how Saerom put her arm under her after a particularly rough day of practice. It shone like the sun, as Jisun mixes the paste, how Seoyeon talked her ear off when Jisun had run out of things to say. The rush of fondness fills her chest remembering how Nagyung complained when Jisun saw herself in the mirror and frowned at the reflection, all the while she works the marinade into the meat.

As she places each strip into the smoking wok, Chaeyoung enters her mind, the same way Chaeyoung entered the practice room in the baggiest pants Jisun had ever seen, only to pull out a Melona for them to share with their backs against the CCTVs. The scent and symphony of sizzling meat fills her kitchen with a profound sense of melancholy, remembering walking with Gyuri one morning before the sun rose, just one lap around the building, and yet it so happened that it was enough to share four years’ worth of troubles with each other. 

She tips the wok over a respectfully waiting plate. The meat steams and settles onto the surface, expelling the tensions of the stove and relaxing into a Jisun-like state.  The green onions fall predictably onto the food, meeting nooks and crannies in the meat with attention that welcomes a tongue seeking solace in homemade comfort. A final touch, Jisun thought, to finish the job, to give the palate something to want to come home to the next time it wanders out into the wide, wonderful world: just a drizzling of honey– not too much, certainly not too little. The viscous liquid spreads all over the dish, sending its enticingness to new heights and bringing the delicacy together. 

At last, her meal is nearly complete. Jisun sets it on the dining table, right in the center of the square wooden surface. She admires it for a moment, the hard work of the past half hour lost on the world but not on her, before she clears her throat to finally, fully, completely allow herself to enjoy the fruits of her labor…

“Girls, time to eat!” She then counts silently, one, two, three– frantic footsteps grow louder and louder until Jiwon and Hayoung come crashing into the room. They both shriek, “I want to sit next to Jisun!” It makes her giggle, just as much as seeing Seoyeon and Jiheon holding hands and walking in step towards the table themselves. Nagyung and Chaeyoung follow, still glued to Nagyung's phone as Chaeyoung points to the screen, “That's the guy I was telling you about,” before they take a seat across from her. 

Jisun takes a deep breath, waiting for one more, and it comes in the form of a comforting hand on her shoulder and a pat on her hair. “Thank you, Jisun,” Saerom whispers with nothing but love in her voice. Her leader takes a piece of the meat and makes a show of eating it, and it's almost comical how much she overreacts. “Holy shit, this is delicious–” Saerom mutters, her hand over her mouth. 

Nagyung pipes up, “Thank you, Jisun-unnie,” prompting a slew of variations from each other member at the table, until a cacophony of gratitude fills Jisun's ears. The warmth of their love spreads through her body, filling her with gratitude of her own.

“You're welcome, girls. Eat well,” she says, as she finally takes a piece of meat for her own, giddy in the anticipation of knowing that it'll be one of the most delicious bites of food she'll ever have. 

[roosterr]

Heyyy! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn.. BUT if you areee, can I just please get a john price with the prompt “why are you avoiding me?” (Bc I’m a slut for angst) with a large fry on the side? IF NOT I TOTALLY COOL

outside it starts to pour

note: two posts in one month? who am i? i hope this is angsty enough lol, i re-wrote it 3 times bc i wasnt happy with it, its a love hate relationship 🥲 but anyway pls enjoy anon!!!

pairing: john price x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed

warnings: fwb, implied smut but no actual smut, angst, miscommunication (i cant help myself), hurt/no comfort, no happy ending

ao3

"why're you avoidin' me?"

the question echoes in your ears, drowning out the war drum of your heartbeat despite the heavy silence that settles between you.

john has a hand around your arm, gentle and barely there but still anchoring you in place like a vice with just his light touch. the back of your mind screams for you to rip yourself free, get as far away from the familiar timbre of his voice and the near-stifling comfort of his smoky scent as you can before he can get you in his web again. but just like always, he's got you right where he wants you.

how many times have you been pulled behind the door he was halfway out of? and how many times have you been ushered back out again with your hair and heart a mess, just to pretend like nothing happened? always one foot in your little secret and one in his reputation, never fully with you; that's how the captain operated, and you feel like a fool for ever believing otherwise.

a squeeze to your arm brings you back to the present, suddenly all too aware of his fingers against your skin and his eyes boring into your own with an intensity that has your heart fluttering – against your mind's better judgement.

"i'm not." your response is a mutter, your gaze dropping from his to the hardwood ahead of you. it's unconvincing, even to you, but he had no right to question you like this.

"you are." he shoots back, gruffly and without a second of hesitation. from the corner of your vision you see his brow furrow, casting shadow over those eyes that always captivate you so mercilessly.

a sigh escapes his chest at your lack of response, his eyes darting from one end of the hallway to the other before giving your arm a miniscule tug, nodding his head back towards his office.

that's how it always starts. the thought makes your heart clenches painfully. "stop. i don't want to–"

"no." he interrupts firmly, with a shake of his head so resolute it almost has you believing that was never his intention to begin with. your eyes gravitate towards his again, and there's a spark of something, under the surface, when his thumb strokes your skin, dipping just below the hem of your sleeve. "talk to me, what's wrong?"

the urge to give in is tempting, to fall into his arms like you always do, just how he wants, how he expects you to. this time, however, you're determined to avoid his trap.

"it's nothing," you avert your gaze again, sighing in the same moment you take his wrist and slowly pull his touch from your arm, "just leave it."

john tuts. "it's not nothin', though, is it?" he asks, sidestepping into your line of sight again and ignoring the pointed look you give him. "talk to me."

if he cared for you the same way you do for him, his persistence would be endearing, but you know better. you're a good soldier who just so happens to be a good fuck too; that's all you are to him, and that's all you'll ever be.

"i told you. drop it." you shake your head, face creasing into a frown as you turn on your heel. if you have to endure any more of his deceiving sympathy, you know you'll only end up caving to his desires. you're not that strong, and that's why you need to keep as much distance as possible between you.

"you're somewhere else, lieutenant." he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks before you can get too far. you don't bother to turn around, but he continues anyway. "if you can't get your head back in the game, i can't risk havin' you out in the field."

your indignant laugh bounces off the walls.

"it's just that easy for you, isn't it?" there's a lump in your throat as you force the last two words over it, one you hope neither of you will acknowledge.

"and what's that supposed to mean?" he scoffs, the sound of his boots taking a few damning steps closer to where you stand, still with your back to him.

"i don't know why i'm offended, you always do this." you mutter, bringing your hand up to smooth over the crease of your brow, the tremble there barely noticeable but telling of your fragile state.

he doesn't respond this time, waiting for you to elaborate with what you're sure is a glare directed at the back of your head.

"you find something to take, and take, and take from," you spin around to face him again, which proves to be a mistake because the second you meet his concerned eyes, you can feel the sting of tears in your own. "and as soon as it's not useful to you anymore, you chuck it away like yesterday's leftovers."

the silence that follows your outburst is so tense it weighs you down. you can't will yourself to move, to tear your gaze away from him even when your vision blurs. it takes a moment for you to realise just how ragged your breathing has become, feeling the hard rise and fall of your chest over your racing heart as you come down from your anger.

"that… that's not what this is." john utters, his face morphing into something you coin as pity, and it makes your heart squeeze all over again.

"don't. i told you to fucking leave it…" your voice is weaker than before, and you curse yourself for showing this amount of weakness in front of him, because now you know he knows that it was never just sex to you. he never meant that little to you.

by some miracle you manage to blink away the tears before they can fall and embarrass you further. you wait for him to say something, in a painful sense of awkwardness that's never been there before, but all he does is stare at you.

"i can't do this anymore." you whisper, the words muffled through the blood rushing in your ears. you fix him with another scathing look before turning to leave for the second time tonight.

"wait." he calls your name as you walk away, quickly moving to catch up with you, but you have no desire to listen to him, not anymore. he gives you no time to react when he rushes to stand in your path, grasping both your shoulders to stop you when you try to sidestep him. "for fucks sake, just hold on."

there's a conflicted look in his gaze that seems to pull his expression down with it. if you had anything left to give you might've felt bad for being the cause, but it's been months of this game of cat and mouse, and you're drained.

"it was a mutual arrangement," he urges, his eyes search yours, something you can't discern muddying the deep blue as they dart across your face.

you give a watery scoff, rolling your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache his touch brings you. "there was no arrangement. you're not an idiot, john, you knew how i felt about you."

"what?" he has the audacity to sound confused, and you have to resist the urge to scoff again. "how you felt about me? what're you saying?"

"i think it's pretty obvious by now." you mutter, folding your arms over you chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. he hasn't taken his eyes off you once, your skin prickling under his intense stare. "i'm an idiot for thinking this would go any other way."

there's another heavy pause, john opens his mouth and closes it again like he was fighting with himself on what to say. the way your throat has constricted makes it hard to breath without sobbing, your breath coming out laboured and uneven.

"do you regret it?" he finally asks, his fingertips pressing into your flesh almost imperceptibly, leaving your skin tingling even though your shirt.

it was self-destruction, giving in to him every time even though it felt like a thorn in your heart. to allow yourself to live in the fantasy that he loved you while you were in his arms, just to have that warm feeling shattered when he told you to get dressed.

"yes."

you regret falling for someone who would never love you back.

"it's over. let me go, captain." you whisper, a plea for him to release you from whatever spell he's got you under, even if you don't really mean it.

his hands drop from your shoulders, letting one curl into a fist at his side and bringing the other up to scratch his beard in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. you know it's for the better, but the knowledge couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you brush past him, feeling his gaze burning into you as you lean away to avoid touching him.

he doesn't stop you when you walk away this time.

[fleurriee]

— before you leave ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; neteyam finds a way to make sure you’re satisfied before he leaves.

word count ; 1.7k

themes ; fluff, smut, established relationship (mates).

warnings ; explicit content: heated kissing, scenting, fingering, is that it??

author’s note ; this is my first time writing anything smut-ish so pls go easy on me... had to write about neteyam bc i love this boy to the moon and back <3 definitely want to write more for the sully boys so make sure to send some requests in!!!

main masterlist  request a fic

The sun filtered through your tent, breaking and entering as it made itself known through the little tendrils of space left. Soft air cascaded within, too, tickling against each surface it managed to get its grasp on.

You didn’t bother opening your eyes, your tiredness consuming too much of your rational thoughts to get up. You knew you would have to get up soon - you would be needed to help out Mo’at and Kiri in the Tsahik tent to prepare healing herbs for the warrior’s next raids, including your Neteyam, but you just couldn’t.

As the comfort and warmth of staying asleep for just a little longer enveloped you, a familiar arm snaked itself across your waist, claiming its place against the other side and squeezing slightly. A tail wrapped itself around your thigh, too, coiling down until it made itself comfortable in the spot it always seem to be found in the most, and soft breaths fanned against your neck, tickling and sending shivers down your spine.

The movements from your mate told you that he was awake - or, at least beginning to wake up - as he only snuggled in closer to your behind. Neteyam would need to leave soon, too, and you knew he wouldn’t leave you without properly saying goodbye. So, you pretended to stay asleep.

Thinking you were doing a good job with your rhythmic breathing and little snores, making sure to keep your eyelids shut but not too tight, you tried to suppress the small smile lingering against your lips when Neteyam’s face only snuggled further into the crook of your neck. He inhaled deeply, making sure he got every last bit of your scent to take with him when he left. It didn’t matter that you knew he’d always come back to you, or that he’d do this every morning like it was routine, but if he didn’t have your scent against his entire body or within his system, he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate the entire time he was out. His thoughts would only be of you, you, you, and he couldn’t afford that when he was supposed to be providing for the clan.

After he was done scenting you, making sure you were all over him, he finally opened his eyes, the view underneath him causing his heart to stutter out of pure adoration. He couldn’t believe he’d ended up with you - his eyes had always been on you from the very moment you first met when you were younger, and even since then, he’d made it his life mission to have you by his side until you were both ready to part from this world. And with Neteyam by your side, you knew that would be a while.

Eyes taking every feature you had to offer, from your fluttering eyelids to the soft movements of your chest, he finally made eye contact with your lips, watching as they would curve upwards just slightly before being forced down again, like you were ensuring yourself not to smile. A smirk made its way onto his own face as he understood what you were trying to do - you didn’t want to leave.

Lowering himself further down towards your ‘sleeping’ figure, he placed a gentle, almost-featherlight kiss against your temple. He felt you tense a little under his touch, a clear sign that his suspicions were right. “You know,” he started, voice rough and hoarse from both groggily waking up and the use of it the night before during your intimate moments, placing another soft kiss behind your ear, “I can tell that you’re awake,” he continued, his lips moving to your jaw, “and, I know what you’re trying to do,” he finally finished, a last kiss firm against the softness of your cheek. 

You couldn’t fight against the smile anymore, letting the restraints fall and clatter away as you smiled big and bright. The heat and tickling sensation from his affections had a chuckle escaping your lips. Despite knowing you’d been caught, you decided to play innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply cheekily, cheeks hurting from smiling to wide and eyes still shut. 

Neteyam hums like he’s taking your response seriously, keep his face against yours, teasing you with his lips and not allowing them to make contact with your skin anymore. “So, you weren’t pretending to be asleep because you knew I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye?”

“Nope.” Your response continued to feign innocence - that was, until, Neteyam’s arm that was situated around your waist held an even firmer grip, flipping you so you were laying on your back with his figure right above you. “’Teyam!” you squealed, not expecting such eager movements from him so early in the morning. “What are you doing?”

With his hands on either side of your face, his body made itself comfortable directly on top of your own, continuing to make sure he didn’t let his entire weight drop down on your. A smirk played against his lips, coy and arrogant, and you couldn’t believe how alive and awake he was considering you wouldn’t be seeing each other until eclipse that night. He pecked your nose gently, bringing his face back to take in every feature your happiness had to offer him. “I’m saying goodbye in a way you’ll enjoy..” he trailed off, teasing you by slowly inching his face closer and closer to your own, “...so, it’ll be easier for us to part.”

His mouth was just a hairs breadth away from your own now, breaths mingling together as one, like Ewya had willed you to. You could feel the skin lightly brush against your own, and you could’ve sworn you’ve never craved anything more. “It’ll never be easy for us to part,” you replied, your voice but a whisper against him.

The teasing became too much to bear between the two of you, and he pounced like an animal hunting their prey. His lips attached themselves to yours, making sure to be firm but gentle as he savoured the way you tasted, the way your squirmed underneath him, the way you moan lightly when he bit on your bottom lip. Lifting your arms up, you caressed Neteyam’s face in your palms, mirroring his actions, too, the pads of your thumbs stoking against the apples of his cheeks. His heart warmed at the loving gestures he always received from you, even small touches like that, because he knew every gesture spoke the words I love you. 

Taking his hands away from your face, lips never once leaving yours for a second, not wanting to break the bond bringing you whole as one, he slowly made his way down your chest, to your hips, until they eventually found their home. Feather touches lingering against your warm skin, you trembled slightly against the path his hands were going down. 

“Neteyam,” you breathed, breaking away from the kiss as his lips trailed down to your neck and your hands weaved around his broad shoulders, inhaling scent before diving in with his lips. His name was originally meant to be a warning, but with all your senses only screaming Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam, it came out as more of a moan, one that only seemed to spur him on. Too busy devouring your neck, intent on leaving marks behind in his wake to ensure the clan knew you were spoken for (although, you always reminded Neteyam that you’d been mated for a while now and everyone knew you were his, he’d only shrug and carry on), his response to you was a hum against your skin, sending vibrations all the way through your body. Meanwhile, his fingers continued to dance on your lower area, teasing you, knowing you were on the brink of giving in to him. “Neteyam,” you repeated, voice breathy and shaky despite wanting to sound stern, “you need to leave,” you gulped, “with the others soon.”

Eventually, he brought his face away from your sensitive spot, now nose against nose as he chuckled at your flushed condition - the way your cheeks slightly darkened in colour, lips parted and eyes dilated just the way he loved. “They won’t mind.” At the last word, he finally gave in to his own desires and slipped a finger into your aching core, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation, not having expected it.

Gasps leaving your mouth, you couldn’t help but grip tighter around his neck, eyes tightly shut and back arching in pleasure. After a few seconds, his finger started to move to a slow rhythm, pushing in and out of you and curling at the end to make sure he hit your sensitive spot. When he saw the way you submitted to him so easily, he started to rub soothing circles against your bud with his thumb, eliciting more enticing sounds from you. 

Still, whilst one part of your mind wanted nothing more than for your mate to ravish you completely, you knew the rest of the warriors wouldn’t be happy with his absence, especially as the next in line for Olo'eyktan. “They won’t like that-” you stuttered on your words, breathing deep as Neteyam pressed down slightly harsher against your warmth, “-that you’re late.”

He smirked, before bringing his lips to kiss against your temple, close to your closed eye. “Well, I don’t care if I’m late, and you’re my top priority.” His movements never slowed once when he spoke, keeping up his pace and watching as you responded to his touches. Back arching in more pleasure, an explicit moan escaped your lips, loud and clear before you could try and hold it back. One hand moved from around his neck, intent on covering your mouth, but Neteyam wouldn’t let you. He crashed his lips back against yours, swallowing another moan, and all he could feel was excitement. “This way I’ll be leaving knowing I took care of you.”

And with the way he was touching you - the way he was worshipping you entirely - you knew despite you’re better judgement, if Neteyam left this way every time, you wouldn’t pretend to still be asleep.

[opal-owl-flight]

Making up for lost time.

3 always believed in 4. They even hoped shed exceed them, and not make the same mistakes they did.

Maybe if they trained her enough, she wouldnt be broken like they are.

More deets below the cut, regarding 3 and their current status with inknemia...

Ive given them angst abt their contribution to 4's state. And abt their anxieties on being a perfect enough ageng so they never fail, so the (fragile) world, their way of life, is always safe

However.

After OE, 3 was able to continue going on patrols and missions, but something is definitely off.

Their body was still young and fresh enough to keep going despite acquiring inknemia (it basically gives them more limited mobility/power due to reduced ink capacity/density). And with 4 there, she can cover for their weaknesses brought by disability.

Even then, they felt it. That creeping feeling that this wont last.

Their ink tank was running low way more frequently. Restoring ink is slower. Splatting enemies takes longer.

4 was starting to run on ahead. A rising star, if she kept her pace, and they slowed down more.

Everything they knew. Turfing, ranked, agent duties.

Their fragile world was breaking. But only theirs. And they cant do anything to stop it from tipping into that point.

As if thats not enough, 4 left for college. And all those duties they shared fell back to them alone.

8 was also around, but she was with Off the Hook more. Shes technically not an agent...

until she became one officially, its all 3. All that work on a breaking body that cant do what it used to anymore.

They felt despair at each action they cant do as long, or anymore. Their actions became much more precise and decided to adjust. Their shots, their specials, their bombs -- only used when needed, ending fights as quickly as they start.

Still able, for a while. Still a legend, for a while. But they know. They know.

And when the news came that Cuttlefish was retiring --

They knew it was time. 1 and 2 are taking them off the field.

Its become too risky for them now. Hell, they even had to retire from turfing. (what a coincidence that the wiiu servers just died.)

Its a hidden turmoil they bury under work. Under the training sessions theyre allowed to do. Its the omly action theyre allowed these days, save for the occasional/rare mission/task that only they can do (that defuzzifier in splat3)

They miss being able to do what they were able to before.

Oh, 4 thinks shes a useless agent?

what about 3, who cant be that anymore?

At least, not as much as they used to be.

Both of them, theyve grown old, exhausted from the turmoils of life. Of events beyond their control.

The reason they pushed 4 so hard was...well, besides to keep her safe, its...I guess, subconciously, so that shed be their protege. To do what they cant anymore. To protect the fragile world.

Forgetting that 4 is not them, that 4 has different skills and limitations. They didnt want her to push herself so hard bc they did that and fell to Tartar. Inadvertedly...

They pushed her hard enough that she wanted to give herself up to Order, a similar entity to Tartar.

Just. God. Ow.

3 actually being the one who can help 4 the most this whole time

3 who wanted her to be safe. And now wanting her to exceed them.

Want to see her become better.

Meanwhile theyre sobbing inside abt how their body is imprisoning them, almost. An unspoken, subconcious struggle, which expresses itself in their strict discipline. Whats usually on the surface is their perfectionism and their worry for everyone else. This entire struggle with their body is bc it means they cant protect everyone else like they used to. It tears em up.

They are still FAST and can deliver killing blows still. But its in bursts, never as consistent as 4

One of these days... maybe she finds out during her break...

What 3s going through, inside.

3 had to replace themself for Splat3. 8 wasnt around, 4 was in college...Thank god Cuttlefish found someone....

Neo3. He NAMED this agent. Three.

That was their name...its gone now (I mean they def have a name outside the number, just havent thought of one)

I. Think thats it. These notes are kind of unedited so WOWPKSKS. its all over the place

[amourtoken]

hi!!! listen… corruption kink!ruby with innocent! reader and its the first time hes all like just the tip and you agree. but he just gets rougher and SLAMS INTO YOU??? PLEASSSEEEE

literally squealed over this bc I was excited to write it 😭 BUT UGHHHHHH that's so hot fuck me lol I'm definitely referencing like oddy/shark attack era ruby in this bc he makes me physically sick I need him so bad btw (also this is insanely long for what it is forgive me I got excited asf. ALSO not using his real name bc I don't feel like typing the whole thing out rn maybe next time)

Cw: corruption kink and a very very inexperienced reader with a nasty ass Ruby. He's evil. Oral (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, raw sex (don't ever do this), breeding, Ruby doesn't ever shut the fuck up, loss of virginity, size kink, dacryphilia, ruby is rlly rough and i could almost consider a part of this dubcon but lets not think too hard, overstimulation, just general freak shit.

I've added some visuals/x links so you can enjoy those scenes a Lil more <3

He's always been into you because you're everything he isn't. You're the perfect little clean cut angel and to be honest a little clueless about what life really has to offer yk? You haven't experienced so much as half of what he has and probably never will, and that makes you so much softer in every way. He'd love literally nothing more than to just jam you in a glass case and protect you from the world forever, admiring you like priceless art, however-

As much as that last thought applies, he has this uncontrollable itch in his brain that plagues the hell out of his thoughts and he swears it only gets worse by the day. He could leave you as you are, untouched and perfectly innocent, or he could defile the fuck out of you. It's getting harder and harder to avoid thinking about how bad he wants to hike that pretty white sundress you wear up your hips and bend you over the nearest flat surface. He's fucked his fist to the thought of how pretty you'd look split on his dick and all the high pitched sounds you'd make, how nice his name would sound when it's being whined while you're begging him not to stop countless times by now and it's really just not cutting it anymore.

It doesn't help that you're basically clueless to your effect on him either. You love tucking yourself under his arm while you're sitting on the couch together or basically crawling up into his lap to nap with your head on his shoulder. You act like that's normal, he practically has to peel you off of him sometimes and you always pout with big puppy eyes looking up at him cause he's so comfy and had the audacity to ruin it? Unbelievable. Every time you pass out with your head on his lap he can't help but imagine lacing his fingers in your hair and gagging you on his cock till your perfect makeup is running down your cheeks. He feels so gross but fuck he really can't keep depriving himself, it'd make you feel good too, so how wrong are these thoughts of his really?

He ends up caving to his own needs finally after yet another night of scrolling your socials and jacking off to any skin you'd show in your pics which was few and far between since basically everything was relatively tasteful. He'd get lucky and come across a beach trip set of photos and edge himself for hours to the thought of you riding him in that skimpy ass bikini of yours. He decides to make a move the next time you're over cause he can't keep up this act anymore.

You come over like usual and you just so happen to be wearing an oversized shirt you'd stolen from his place a few days back, which already had him reeling. He lingers a little longer than usual when you pull him into a hug as a greeting, hands resting on your hips for just a second before you're flopping onto the couch and getting comfy while waiting on him. Thank God he smoked before you showed up because it's helping to dull the nervous energy swimming in his chest. He hopes this doesn't fuck up your friendship cause he really does love having you around, he just can't keep living in this haze and hopes you understand. You're always so sweet and understanding of everything though...this should be fine.

He takes his usual spot next to you and throws on the first movie he sees cause he really isn't even paying attention, he couldn't even if he wanted to right now. You're no stranger to physical affection from him so his hand resting on your knee didn't feel out of place. It wasn't until his fingers were brushing under the hem of your shorts that you tilted your head over at him with a confused expression.

"You trust me, right?"

Of course? You always have, you've told him before. Why is he asking again? He keeps your legs spread with his arm as his fingers keep tracing circles against your hip under your shorts. He was silent for a bit before actually responding, which was a little out of character but the butterflies in your stomach kicking up were starting to muffle any of your thoughts. You've always found him attractive but that's your best friend, of course you find him pretty. He'd never want anything else to do with you that wasn't platonic. Right? His fingers brushing against the lace edge of your white panties is surely platonic.

your legs fall open when one slides off the couch and Ruby ofc takes this as an opportunity to take things further. You look so pretty like this, your eyes are glued to his face while his hands work on your lower half, he brushes his thumb over your clit through your panties and you yelp in suprise, grabbing his wrist to stop him. The feeling spread through your whole body like electricity, it wasn't something you were used to at all. You instantly started fumbling over your words explaining you've never done this before, no one's ever touched you this way, hell you hadn't even done it yourself. All of this information went straight to Ruby's cock. He knew you were inexperienced but this is a whole new level of purity to him, and he can't fucking wait to ruin you.

"'s fine baby you don't have to do anything but trust me. I'll make you feel good, promise."

He hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and drug them down your legs with your panties leaving you completely bare for him. You hadn't done this before but you were fucking dripping for him in anticipation already (or nerves. Either way your heart was racing). He pulled the edge of his oversized shirt up your torso and had you hold it in your teeth to keep it out of the way, it was also a good way to muffle any of the sounds you were making. He'd never seen you completely naked so this was a fucking treat to him, he felt like a wolf staring down a lamb in the moment cause you looked beyond delicious in every way. He really couldn't deny himself a taste. Ruby used what little patience he had to tease you and really draw out the moment. The couch really didn't have much room so he took a spot on his knees on the floor and gripped your hips, adjusting you to face him with your legs wide open and shirt still caught between your teeth. He brushed his hands up and down your thighs a few times before spreading your pussy with his thumbs so he could get the best angle when he buried his face in it. Your back immediately arched off the couch and your hands flew to his hair, tangling in it and pulling harshly out of instinct. He groaned against you but didn't stop, licking wide stripes from your entrance back up to your clit repeatedly. God you were already trembling, he was gonna have so much fun with you.

you were already panting and whining just from his tongue but when he edged a single finger into you, your head falls back against the couch and you moan his name in such a pretty tone it has his cock twitching in his sweats. You were so tight around him he really worried if he'd even be able to fuck you tonight, he could make it fit one way or another though. Ruby was working another finger into you and pulled back to watch how you gripped him so fucking tight, he didn't leave you untouched though, his free hand rubbing slow circles against your clit that had you bucking almost involuntarily against him. Your thighs were shaking so bad when he hooked his fingers inside you to hit spots you didn't even know existed, he had your eyes rolling back so far into your skull you were dizzy. Ruby was nearly entranced by the whole ordeal, watching you literally drip down his fingers and wrist like a faucet. It's a shame no one else got to experience this first cause now there's no way he's ever letting someone else feel you, taste you, any of it. As far as he's concerned you're branded.

"Feels good, huh baby? Can't believe you've never done this. Gonna touch yourself thinkin' about me after we're done? Gonna call me and beg me to come fill this pussy up? Yeah?"

"Can't fuck you right till you cum on my fingers, don't wanna hurt you. You're almost there, just relax- fuck you're so tight-"

"Gonna fuckin ruin you for everyone else. You're mine."

Ruby presses a big hand to your lower stomach and you whimper like a dog, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It felt like there was so much pressure inside you, it ran all the way up your spine and down your legs. He leaned back in to suck at your clit and you could barely catch your breath. The coil in your belly kept tightening until you were pulling at his hair and begging him for a break cause the feeling was so intense and foreign but he didn't stop cause he knew everything you didn't. You came around his fingers with nothing short of a scream, he figured his apartment neighbors would bitch at him and complain about the noise but he'd happily take a noise complaint if that means he can watch you convulse and sob through an orgasm he forced you through again. You were shaking and whimpering, hot tears running down your cheeks while he scissored his fingers inside you working you open and letting you enjoy the aftershocks in the moment. By then you figured you were done, nothing tops that right? Your head was laid back against the cushions and your eyes were closed while you tried to catch your breath but in Ruby's eyes you were barely even started. You only opened your eyes when you felt the tip of his cock slap against your clit making you jolt.

He was fucking huge, you thought his fingers were a stretch but this? He must be joking if he thinks that's gonna fit inside you. You whined about being sensitive and how he was too big but he was quick to reassure you he'd take care of you.

"Just the tip, I promise. You trust me right? You know I can make you feel good baby just let me-"

you hissed at the stretch when he slid in like he promised, he didn't even need extra lube cause you were still drenched from earlier. You couldn't help but squirm a little, the burn of overstimulating still very present at your core. Ruby was upholding his promise for now but fuck the way you gripped his cock and how warm and tight you felt around him, he definitely couldn't stand it for long. He tried to distract himself a little by letting his hands roam your body, fingers teasing your nipples until they were peaked and sore. He tried to fit another inch inside but you whined and pressed your hands against his chest to stop his movements, not that he could've moved much anyway with how tight you were, he's just running out of patience very quickly. He resorted to just rocking his hips slowly, pulling out entirely before just fitting the tip back in and it felt great but fuck it wasn't nearly enough.

Ruby's hand reached between you to tease your clit again, easing a little more of himself into you but was still met with whines and cries and squirming. He knows he promised it'd be just the tip but you can't blame him for breaking this single promise, right? Your whines were cut off when he pressed a hand over your mouth and you looked like a little deer in headlights in that moment which almost made him reconsider but fuck you'd forgive him later. You whined and near sobbed against his hand when he sank balls deep into you in a single thrust. You felt so fucking full you could barely move, the stretch caused an awful ache through your whole body but once you calmed down a little Ruby brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, letting it catch between your teeth and press against your tongue while he finally got to fuck you how he needed. He really tried to keep a slow rhythm but he couldn't stop himself from fucking into you like he was trying to split you in half, his arms tight around your legs to keep you steady. (Vis.)

you felt fucking divine around his cock, like you were made for him. He hoped he'd last longer but the way you gripped him was the end of him, he'd been aching while eating you out so of course he was already on edge. When he came he leaned over you, folding you nearly in half and you whimpered when you felt him nudge your cervix as he spilled into you enough to drip down your ass onto the couch beneath you. He'd clean it later. Right now he was more focused on feeling you cum around his cock, even though he'd already finished he felt like you deserved more for letting him fuck you like this. He pressed himself deep into you and started a fast pace rubbing circles on your clit until you were shaking and crying out his name in that pretty little tone of yours.

"G-good fucking girl- good girl- fuck baby that's it, that's good- cum for me again? Please you're so close, cum on my cock baby girl- let go"

You definitely followed his words cause you came so hard black spots flooded your whole field of view, you sank your nails into his wrist trying to steady yourself but your whole body felt like it was electrified. Ruby rocked his hips gently against yours to really draw the feeling out as he leaned down to press kisses to your jaw and cheek. He finally pulled out and sat back to watch his cum drip out of your abused hole, feeling satisfied with himself. You were fucking spent, panting and laying back on the couch with a sheen of sweat making your hair stick to your forehead and his shirt still tugged up to reveal your whole body to him. He'd stay in this moment for fucking ever If he could, but there's so much more he wants to do to you once you recover. He's got plenty to show you.

[sminiac]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WHINY RIWOO WITH DRY HUMPING I BEG. IT CAN START WITH THEM LIKE PLAY FIGHTING BEING CUTE BUT THEN. YEAH. I read one with riize sohee and.. It was LIFE changing 👁

⋆ Lee Sanghyeok + Reader

Contains! — Smut focused, dry humping, MDNI.

Note — As soon as you mentioned Sohee w this I was like “Thea!!!😧☝️” bc IT REALLY WAS LIFE CHANGING, ugh I love my mutuals, I <3 @kissohee. But I gotchu! Although, I will switch it up so it doesn’t seem very copy paste, it wouldn’t feel right to me, here’s the fic w Sohee that was mentioned <3

You knew they’d do good, they always did, and Riwoo was one out of the six who certainly knew that they had executed their performance quite perfectly.

The adrenaline rush still buzzes within him as he comes bursting back into the waiting room, walking like the sun had found its place of eternal peace under the thick of his skin. His confidence glowed from within, beaming in contentment as he falls into your chest with an eruption of happy giggles, basking you in his warmth, saying breathlessly against you that he had fun, so much fun, and that it didn’t even feel like he was running on merely a few hours of sleep as your fingers scratched against the nape of his neck, sweat dripping from his hair and down the surface of his skin, it reminded you of the way water shakes off of pine trees after a long shower from the clouds above.

You couldn’t deny how pretty he looks like this despite the cemented fact that the two of you were strictly platonic, only best friends, but something foreign stirred up inside of you seeing the way he still struggles to catch his breath, his heart beating so fast that you can feel it through the layers of clothing between the two of you.

“You looked really hot on stage.” you say simply, watching the way your fingers thread through the few inches of his blonde hair. “Yeah, it was really warm, I don’t think I’ve ever produced this much sweat from performing before.”

You struggle to bite back a laugh at his clueless response, a little warm in the face from his unknowingness to the existing layers of your words. “I bet, I can feel it soaking through your clothes, how’re you on top of me if you’re so warm?” Your finger pokes gently into his cheek.

“Shhh!” He musters as he lets his hands out from bearing his weight, his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he settles further into you. “I’d prefer for my pillows not to yap in my ear when I’m trying to sleep, thanks.”

Your palm gently pats against the back of his head, imitating a smack that makes him jump, you’re too busy whining about how he needs to get off of you that the fact his semi-hard cock just dug into your thigh goes unnoticed. “You’re lucky I’m so nice to you, y’know? Bratty boy.”

He makes a small ‘Mmmph’ sound in disagreement, his hips lifting and then falling back into you. Right now it seems that you’re the clueless one after dismissing the movement as a way to annoy you, and not that he’s secretly rolling his own high into play.

“I’m so nice to you, Riwoo. Sometimes I think I show you a little too much leniency, even when you do deserve it.” There’s an airy laugh to your tone, “No matter how rare that is.” and his ears know that you’re merely just joking around, you know- like you always do, it’s how you you are, but something about it is simultaneously making his hips shift against your leg, his breaths so heavy that they start exiting through his mouth in quiet pants.

“Please-” he squeaks, his hands fisting at your top desperately, he tries to keep himself from grinding into you fully with the heft and longevity that has his mouth watering, it’s not right, but fuck does it already feel so good.

“What? What’re you doing?”

“Hhngh- why d’you, fuck-! Have t’be so soft.” He’s taken under by the slightest lick of pleasure, so much so that his own embarrassment is far from the surface, and he’s not willing to pull himself out of it anytime soon. “Riwoo, can you…” the pre that sinks into his briefs coaxes him to keep going, rocking faster, harder against your leg, but the pleasure only comes to a certain point before fizzling out again, he doesn’t have enough firmness to make him breach the minor setback but he’s too stupid to come up with a solution for himself. “Honey please, I just need to you-”

He isn’t listening, his hips are frantic, eager, a little too much for your liking. “slow down.” You pull your leg away, out from under him.

He looks up at you with a quivering lip, such a sweet docile thing, his wide glossy eyes blinking up at you, the fear starting to sink in once he’s able to focus back on the actuality of the moment. He was just pathetically humping your leg. You, his bestfriend, his awfully pretty bestfriend who has a habit of calling him ‘honey’.

“Sorry, s-sorry. Fuck! Oh my god, Y/n I’m really sorry.” His head starts shaking side-to-side, a look of pure disbelief on his face as tears start swelling against the bottom lid of his eye, they fall heavy with every blink, the smoked out mix of warm browns around his aegyosal smearing down his face, leaving an existing trail that makes the entire act so much more lucid.

“You need to chill out,” you chuckle whilst leaning into him, he’s frighteningly still as you press a tender kiss against the mole under his eye. “I just wanted to move, make it feel better for you, you probably won’t be able to cum like this, hm?”

You look so beautiful, he swears you’re an angel, especially with that damn proclivity for being so concerned about others before yourself. He nods his head, agreeing, you’re right- how are you so right all of the time? The words, the way you use them, he’s never heard such explicit language come from your mouth before in any amount of sincerity that they’re soaked in now, but god does he want to kiss you because of it. “Tell me,” you beckon, your eyelashes are so pretty, has he told you that before? Especially the way your head tilts to the side, the angle makes them look more wispy as you blink around at his features, your fingers gently moving the ends of his hair out of the way.

You touch him like he’s always been yours to touch, and right now he’s never been more sure of wanting to always be just yours.

“Can’t- you’re right, you are. I-I bet I could, make do with what I have, don’t need anything else- whatever you give me, ‘s more than good enough.” His sniffles break through his words, the sound of his voice so quiet, shy, hiding in the back of his throat that it makes it crack.

“Trade spots with me, will you?”

He nods quickly, he will, of course he will, he’ll do anything you ask of him. He wastes no time pushing himself back onto his calves, watching as you stand up from the couch and instruct him to lay on his back, claiming your spot.

“Comfy?” You ask, leaning over him, pushing his hair back from his forehead, it pokes out between the crack of your fingers as he nods, eyes closing as you place a warm kiss against his forehead. “Good. Sweet boy, bein’ so good for me.”

Sweet boy, he’s never heard that one before, it has the exact same effect that your usual pet name has on him, he knows because it makes his shoulder ache. A whimper bubbles from his lips, you can feel the way he squirms under you, it has your hips moving to rest directly over his dick that’s straining heavy, wet in his pants. The sensation is warm, really warm, and… damp? Your hand drags down, thumb swiping over the area a few times as Riwoo’s fighting back a long pitchy moan from escaping so bad that it hurts, curiously you inch back, seeing a darker patch of black along the seam of his slacks, his pre had enough time to completely soak through, added the copious amount it was enough to breach through the thick of your pants.

The moisture makes the fabric feel almost thinner, or maybe it’s the way it’s conformed to the shape of his head that makes the drag of your pussy over it feel even more distinct as you move back, unwilling to waste time, to let even a second of seeing him like this slip from your grasp you resume grinding against him.

“Please- fuck! Y/n- pleasepleaseplease!” He whimpers quickly, unabashedly rocking his hips up in time with yours, his left hand has a firm grip on your thigh that keeps you close, his other rests against his cheek, index finger caught between his teeth as he rocks into you. “Wanna cum, jus’ wanna cum- make a mess f’you, only you- shit! Plea-”

His legs help him punch up into you, unexpectedly spilling in his pants, you watch whilst catching your breath at the way he shudders back down into the cushions under him, his mouth wide open, drool pooling behind his teeth and leaking out of the corners of his lips, a long drawn out whine pulling from his chest, a fuzzy dazed expression on his face, filling out his brain.

“You really do know how to make a mess.” You tease, hands running soothingly up and down his chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever came like that before… are we- are we still only friends if you made me cum that hard that fast?”

[forsworned]

hihi !!

could you do something with TF141 (or just Soap, Ghost, or Price… I’m not picky lol) and a reader who’s biological father decides to come back randomly to try and have contact again?

tbh it’s something i’ve been struggling with for a bit- i let my bio father have contact with me again despite the stuff he put me and mom through for lack of a better term. i have my sister and the family on that side who i want to be able to have a normal relationship with and im tired of being scared and avoiding him. it’s just been difficult bc i have a dad who hasn’t hurt me and it’s not my bio dad yknow??

sorry for the mini dump- if it’s too much or you just don’t wanna do it feel free to ignore! thank you lovie!!

Author's note: Hey I'm so sorry for not getting to this sooner! I have been super busy and honestly I didn't want to half ass this request since its pretty sensitive but I hope you enjoy

Warning(s): Triggering themes that include: Parental Abandonment, Family Conflict, Emotional Distress/Abuse

Sweat clings to the babyhairs on your forehead as you stare at your phone screen. The text message was laid out before you and you couldn't tear your eyes away. Your fingers were unable to type out a response, your brain was scattered not only from the mission you just came back from but from the particular individual you had received this from.

"Lass?"

You hear Soap's throaty Scottish accent from behind you and it takes a moment to unglue your eyes from your phone. His eyes soften when he skims over the message, and then to you. A tear has brimmed in your left eye and he feels his heartstrings being yanked at. Life could be cruel at times, especially when it came to absent parental figures.

"You alright?" Ghost's voice comes in from your right side and you sigh.

"Not really..."

"You don't have to answer." He adds.

The look in Ghost's eyes says it all. Familiar with the nuances of paternal mistreatment, he feels well-equipped to comfort you. A gloved hand on your shoulder and you feel your body relax a bit.

"I know." You nod. "I just--my sister and the rest of my family on that side, I want to have a normal relationship with them."

"But you feel held back?" Soap sits beside you on the bench. You nod again. It's definitely an uneasy feeling. Like an itch under the surface of your skin that you can't quite itch.

"It just really hurts--" You choke out a sob and you feel a taut arm wrap around your shoulder as your face burrows itself into the Scotsman's neck. The comforting scent of his deodorant welcomes you, and you feel the hot tears begin to prick at your eyes. Soap's arm tightens around you, offering silent support as you let out all your pent up emotions.

"Take your time, lass," He lulls you." "We're here for you."

Ghost shifts a little, his presence anchoring you. “You don't have to do this alone,” he mutters softly. “No matter what, we’re right behind you.”

You shakily inhale and lift your head to meet their concerned gazes. “I know,” you reply inaudibly, wiping tears from your face with the back of your sleeves. “But… I just wish I could have a normal relationship with my sister and the rest of my family. I just can't shake the fear of facing him."

He examines her for some time before something seems to sink in. Ghost's eyes harden slightly, a flicker of understanding passes through them.

"'s natural to feel tha' way." He begins. "But remember tha' you are at liberty to set boundaries. You do not owe him anything simply because he is your biological father."

Soap nods in agreement with his counterpart, “Ye need to do what's best for you, lass. If it means keeping away from them completely then so be it." He brushes the hair away from your face and smiles. "We'll support ya."

Taking a deep breath, you feel relief wash over you, the weight on your chest beginning to lift as you realize they will always be there to support you. Ghost ruffles the top of your head, and you lighten up a bit more.

"Now c'mon, let's get inside. Lord knows Soap needs a shower," Ghost says, his voice tinged with dry humor.

Soap pouts up at his Lieutenant. "Hey!"

The giggles that escape your chest are enough to make Simon smile. Your own smile melts his hardened heart, all it takes is some ribbing on Johnny. Sly dog.

[bestworstcase]

Grimm behavior reassessment thought: y'know that sister training session called on account of Rather Tanky Ursa? Could Ruby & Yang have avoided that fight if they'd known to treat the big lug like careful hikers would an 'ordinary' bear encounter? There were a few 'pause & rear/roar' moments on its part which I guess *could* be read as 'hey stop that' or 'my turf, leave'.

yang’s character short has always interested me bc the ursa was there the whole time they were sparring.

like. yang throws a punch, ruby panic-flies into the bushes and then passes out:

on this screenshot i’ve marked ruby’s approximate path in red and circled the clump of bushes the ursa emerges from (using the logs laid around the perimeter as markers):

note the very dense foliage around the grimm; he’s completely hidden. yang gets concerned when ruby doesn’t respond, startles when she hears a twig snap in the area circled in yellow, this is what she sees:

and then he stands up:

which. ok. he’s a really big guy. there is no way he crept up on them and got that close before making a noticeable sound, and most grimm behave like pursuit predators besides—they wander around in the open and give chase when they come across prey. (although there are exceptions: the pack of apathy at brunswick drag the lamp around a corner and go dark to lie in wait, for example.)

the point is, he’s there, but yang can’t see him until his eyes illuminate because he’s lying down in the bushes. his markings are also ‘off’ and only begin to glow as he stands up.

we’ve seen grimm Do That a couple times:

and we’ve also seen in v8 that just because there don’t seem to be any grimm nearby doesn’t mean they aren’t there:

<- same thing happens in the mine. dozens of centinels pop out of the ground when the geist signals for them to screen his retreat deeper into the mine. which suggests that grimm may spend a lot of time… not hunting. unseen, hidden just under the surface or in the densest thickets, crevices, whatever. and no one knows because when grimm aren’t on the hunt they don’t attack unless provoked.

the big guy was just There! taking a nap! and he didn’t aggro until yang got spooked by ruby’s silence.

he also doesn’t seem to be all that interested in attacking after his initial charge and swipe; he knocks yang across the clearing and then turns away, until yang shoots him again:

i do think it’s really interesting that WOR: grimm implies that grimm are most strongly drawn by violence, not negativity per se: “what is perhaps even more unsettling is the basis of their attraction,” and the accompanying image is

a person killing another person with a rock.

i think—much more so than real animals—grimm are kind of emotional mirrors, in that they reflect the energy they’re shown. one thing that stands out to me about both salem and cinder is that while there is obviously an element of magic or kinship or both behind their influence over the grimm, from both of them we see these occasional moments of tenderness toward the grimm; cinder’s very gentle and soothing “shh, this is your home now” when she calms the wyvern, and the way salem softens when she caresses the goliath’s face in the v6 stinger:

and i wonder if there isn’t a meaningful correlation there. the two characters in the story who demonstrably have the ability to communicate and work with grimm are also the two characters who, in private moments when no one else is around to see, choose to be gentle with these creatures. is salem able to command grimm the way she does by magical compulsion or is she their leader, as raven put it, whom they follow because she’s kind to them and protects them.

[eudaimonia83]

Posting a little Elucien treat, just bc I actually HAVE written things recently, I just haven’t FINISHED them. Details, schmetails. 💁🏽‍♀️

——————————

“Why, Elain Archeron,” he murmured, and his fingers climbed her arm to rest against her bare shoulder, tangling lightly in one of her loose curls. “I would never have believed it of you.”

“Believed what, my lord?” She feigned innocence, eyes wide and bright as moonbeams.

His fingers tugged gently at the hem of the sheet she had covered herself with. “That you would forego a nightdress. So bold of you.”

She blushed, fighting the sense of being flustered. It was time, sang her blood, thrilling under her skin, to reach out, to embrace, to touch. “It seemed…” she hesitated, searching for the word. “…a shame, somehow. It’s a beautiful night. To not enjoy the breeze would be…” her voice snagged as his fingers abandoned the sheet and slid up her neck, resting at the angle of her jaw.

“Would be…?” His voice teased her but his eyes — oh, those eyes, gold flame and glowing ember — searched hers, utterly serious, glimmering with want.

“Un…” She hitched a breath. “Ungrateful.”

“Hmm. Well. That won’t do at all. We should always be grateful for the time we’ve been given.” The breeze rustled, rippling the curtains. He leaned forward until their noses almost touched. “Then may I join you?”

Caught off guard by the forthrightness, it took her a moment to nod.

He stood up and pulled his quiver over his head, setting it gently against one of the pillars, and then unbuckled his knife belt that sat low on his waist, the knife at the side swinging down in its sheath to scrape the white stone floor. Elain watched, hungry for the light and shadow to play along his skin, as he unfastened his jerkin and then his shirt, letting each one fall slowly to the floor. She swallowed hard. He grinned, a flash in the moonlight, and she knew he was going slowly on purpose. To tease her.

Then watch, her mind whispered. If he wants you to see, then look. It isn’t shameful…it isn’t wanton. Is it? She craned her neck to the side, letting an appreciative little smile curl the very edges of her lips. His eyes locked with hers, although they were just a gleam in the moonlit darkness. There was a hitch, a catch against her ribs, like the tug of a magnet toward a metal surface. The bond. Was he reeling her in? Should she…let him?

But that little doubting shadow in her mind quieted as he unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, rolling up the leather strap before placing it next to his quiver, then unfastened his boots. He had to bend over to do it, and his breeches rode down over his hips slightly; Elain’s eyes widened, drinking in the sweep of his back muscles tapering down to his narrow waist. He was long and lean, not at all the same body type as Cassian or Azriel; built for running, for horseback, for silent stalking on hunts that would last all night and only yield prey as the dawn broke. For endurance. Mother of mercy, her mouth was dry. She shifted under the sheet, craning her neck to get a better view…but, with a sly gleam of a smile, he had turned to face away from her, and stretched, loose and relaxed, with his arms over his head. She narrowed her eyes, a stab of petulance cutting through her.

“I can feel your disapproval,” he said over his shoulder, leaning back and forth in the moonlight, which touched him like a caress, long fingers of light and shadow sliding along his shoulders and the groove of his spine. “Should I stop?”

“I think I’ll kill you if you do,” she burst out, against all of her better judgment.

He turned then, and slid his breeches down and off in one movement. She let out a little sound, excitement and anguish and trembling expectancy.

He climbed over her, stretching her out beneath him, pulling her arms up over her head and squeezing them gently at the wrists. “Making threats, Blossom?” he whispered. “They sound so sweet in your shivering little voice. Now, don’t tell me there’s other things you’ve been keeping from me? Other talents?”

“Kiss me,” she insisted, stretching up to him to try to catch his mouth. It was too far away, much too far. She wanted him all over her, to cover her skin in a cascade of warmth, an avalanche of scent and sensation. “Please kiss me, Lucien.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” he said, using his free hand to peel the sheet away, taking her in with a gleam of his eyes and a flare of his nostrils. His fingertip rested lightly on the seam of her lips. “But not there.”

Her eyes widened in shock, but it was already happening, and in the fierce rush of her heartbeat as his hands gripped her waist, she realized she would let him do whatever he wanted to her. He flipped her over on the mattress and pulled her backwards until she was kneeling, arms stretched over her head. Then he crawled between her knees, and lay on his back, staring up at her, gold gilded in silver, flame shrouded in ombre, gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise. She sat up, alarmed, not sure what was happening next, but his grip tightened, thumbs stroking her thighs, pulling her knees further apart until she lowered herself to sit on his chest.

“Listen to me,” he said, and there was a core of steel in his voice that straightened her spine and raised gooseflesh all over her arms, torso, breasts, belly… “I’m going to taste you until you come, until you break into fragments. If it’s too much, just say, Lucien, stop…and I will. But otherwise, I’m going to take you apart the way you’ve always deserved. Do you want that?”

She whimpered, not even sure if it was fear or excitement. “…y…yes.”

“Then move this luscious ass forward and sit on my mouth.”

“But…”

“You heard me.”

——————————————

Just a little light-dom Luci for your Tuesday morning consideration 😈😈😈