#god i just *clenches fist* love smelling things

[heliads]

Hi! I loved your dating Isaac Lahey headcanons. I actually laughed with the "One of the boys on the lacrosse team starts winking at you during a game? You’d best believe the guy is on the ground, writing in pain within a half second." I was wondering if you could maybe expand on this one? Thanks <3

masterlist

Isaac Lahey is not jealous. Absolutely not. There is no reason why he would possibly be walking the halls of Beacon Hills High School with his hands clenched into fists, hoping against hope that he can keep his claws away long enough to avoid slicing into his palms. It’s not like he would even see the blood, anyway, his vision seems to be a field of red.

That is, of course, if he were jealous, and he’s not. Isaac is perfectly fine, and he is not glaring at a boy down the hall from him. This guy is talking to Y/N L/N, someone who just happens to be Isaac’s girlfriend, and he’s even leaning with one arm against her locker like he’s some kind of teen movie lead. Isaac hates him instantly. Maybe he is jealous after all.

But he can handle it. Isaac has survived hunter shootouts, werewolf pack fights, and dozens of conflicts that usually end in him whipping out his claws and fangs to put an end to things. Needless to say, getting jealous about some boy making eyes at his girlfriend shouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened.

Isaac takes slow breaths in and out. He’s handling this. He’s going to keep walking, and he is not going to charge over there and rip the guy’s head off, although that certainly sounds good to him right now. It would certainly shut him up.

Before he can make any mistakes, a voice comes from Isaac’s left, distracting him from his rather bloodthirsty vision.

“You alright, Isaac? You seem a little tense.”

Isaac glances over and sees Scott McCall pausing next to him, one hand casually tugging on the straps of his backpack. Isaac swallows harshly, trying to pull himself together.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Great. How are you?”

Scott raises an eyebrow. “Perfectly fine, or at least compared to you. Seriously, I think every werewolf within a mile radius can smell your anger.”

Isaac does his best to pretend he’s surprised. “Really? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe I’m just, uh, stressed about an upcoming math quiz.”

Scott widens his eyes in mock confusion. “Is that true? You’re not just, say, upset that Clark Ellis is over there talking to Y/N and trying his hardest to flirt with her?”

Isaac’s mood sours in an instant. “Well, I’m trying not to be upset, but seeing as you brought it up-”

The True Alpha just laughs. “Get used to it, buddy. Y/N’s going to have a lot of people flirting with her, we’re at a high school. It only feels worse because of the whole werewolf thing. Trust me, when I first started dating Allison I felt like I was going to fly off the handle every time someone so much as approached her. One time, Jackson tried talking to her and I made Derek go push him into a wall of lockers.”

Isaac feels intrigued. “I didn’t know making Derek push people into lockers was an option. I think I need to look into that.”

Scott has the audacity to roll his eyes. Clearly, he doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation, which is that Clark Ellis just told a probably awful joke and made Y/N laugh, and even though Isaac knows he doesn’t have a monopoly on making his girlfriend laugh, that is so wrong that-

“Isaac. Dude. Get it together. Your world isn’t going to shut down because some boy from first period talks to Y/N.”

Isaac frowns. “Are we sure about that?”

Scott chuckles. “Very. Now come on, if you’re going to stew about this the whole time I’m going to get sick of it. If you want to do something about it, go talk to her, but for the love of God, if I see any glowing eyes or claws I’m going to drag your werewolf ass right back out of there.”

Isaac grins, although he’s not entirely sure that it’s meant to be a pleasant expression. “Oh, don’t worry. No blood will be seen.”

He starts moving before Scott can tell him what a bad idea that is, walking down the hall towards Y/N. Isaac does his best to school his countenance into a neutral expression, but he’s fairly sure that he failed at that goal, because the second Clark Ellis gets a good look at him, Isaac swears he can see every drop of blood flee the guy’s face. Isaac smirks as the guy trips over himself to say goodbye to Y/N, quickly turning and almost dashing off down the hall. Sometimes, he likes being intimidating.

Y/N looks confused, glancing after Clark, but the second she turns around and sees Isaac she laughs. “You know, I was wondering why he seemed so scared, but I think I get it now. What are you up to?”

Isaac grins. “I’m not being jealous.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow, almost incredulous. “Definitely not.”

Isaac takes one last look at the fleeing Clark, then allows himself to relax again. “Absolutely not. Besides, I wasn’t even going to do anything. We can go back and tell Scott that I was fine. Didn’t even get involved.”

Y/N chuckles. “So Clark taking off as fast as he could wasn’t because of you?”

Isaac shrugs. “If he thought that he was doing something wrong, that was his call. I was just, uh, looking at him.”

Y/N shakes her head slowly, trying to hide a grin. “Sounds about right.” Y/N closes her locker, and the two of you start walking back down the hallway. Isaac makes sure that one of his hands wraps around hers, just to prove a point to anyone watching. He doesn’t take kindly to people trying to flirt with his girl.

As it turns out, Isaac’s got a pretty good way to get out the rest of his irritation. In a few nights, he’s got a lacrosse game, which means that the practices for the last few days and tonight have been nothing short of brutal. Coach wants them ready, and Isaac learned from his first day on the team that Coach Finstock does whatever he wants, which usually means a lot of running. Were he not a werewolf, Isaac would be in misery, but now, he just uses it as an excuse to get his heart pounding.

The day of the game comes up soon enough, and Isaac can’t be more excited. They’re playing Cyprus Coast, one of the best schools in the area bar Beacon Hills High and maybe Devenford Prep. Needless to say, it’s going to be a close match, and those always end the best. Nothing like a chance to prove yourself in front of a crowd of roaring spectators, right?

Isaac meets up with Y/N before he has to join the rest of the team. It’s become a tradition of theirs, where Isaac ducks away from Coach and everyone else to go talk to her in the shadow of the field house. She’s wearing maroon and white in a show of support for the team, her grin electric in the bright lights shining out from the field. Every time, he wishes he could have a little longer to talk to her, but the game calls. It’s time to go win this thing.

Isaac finds himself racing out onto the field with the rest soon enough, taking up a starting position near the front. The game starts with Scott getting the ball, so Isaac charges down the field, easily dodging the few players trying to guard him. He shouts to his friend, and Scott passes the ball. From there, he ducks and spins around the rest of the offensive lineup before slamming the ball directly in the goal. First score, barely five minutes in. It’s a good sign, to say the least.

Isaac can’t help it, but looks back up to Y/N as he walks back to the line. She’s beaming at him, already risen to her feet along with Lydia and the rest of their friends who’d turned out to see the game. He grins at her, feeling the usual rush of adrenaline. Man, he loves this game.

As the minutes progress, however, Isaac notices something unusual. There’s this one player on the Cyprus Coast team, with ‘Wright’ labeled in that familiar block printing on the back of his jersey. Every few plays or so, Wright keeps looking up at the bleachers, but he isn’t facing the away team’s side of the crowds. Instead, he’s glancing towards the Beacon Hills side. In fact, he’s looking directly at Y/N.

Isaac’s first thought is that something is wrong. Could this guy be a hunter, sent to infiltrate the team so he could get close to the McCall pack during a lacrosse game? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened. As he watches, though, he doesn’t think the guy’s intentions are malicious. He doesn’t look like he wants to cause problems. In fact, he isn’t treating the few werewolves on the team any differently than the other players. The only person he seems to focus on is Y/N.

The pieces are starting to click together in Isaac’s head, and then he sees it. Cyprus Coast scores a point and the boy turns towards Y/N again, and winks at her. He’s wearing this smug, cheesy grin, like he thinks he’s the world’s gift to humanity all wrapped up in one sweaty lacrosse jersey. Isaac despises him instantly. This kid, Wright, is going to wink at Isaac’s girlfriend? He has no idea what’s coming for him.

As much as he wants to, though, Isaac can’t tear the guy to shreds outright. Scott is already shooting him a warning gaze, evidently picking up on the anger rolling off of Isaac in waves. There are too many people watching to reveal himself as anything other than human.

However, that isn’t to say that Isaac can’t still get his revenge. He bides his time, playing it cool even when he wants to snap. Wright doesn’t seem to stop, can’t tear his gaze from Y/N longer than a few minutes at a time. Isaac almost can’t blame him, Y/N’s gorgeous, but she is still his girlfriend, not this boy’s. The thought that Wright thinks he can swoop in here, get his ass kicked by Beacon Hills’ lacrosse team and still walk away with Y/N’s number makes Isaac want to burst out laughing.

Isaac waits until there’s barely a minute left in the game to make his move. There’s going to be time for one more play. The ref blows his whistle to start, and the ball ends up going to Cyprus Coast. Isaac runs with the rest of the team, blocking off their chance to score, making sure that one boy and one boy alone is open on the opposing team. Finally, Cyprus Coast passes to Wright, and that is when Isaac finally lets himself go.

He slams into the boy with the strength of a truck, forcing him into the ground with a savage sort of joy. The echo of Wright hitting the turf ricochets around the field, not pausing to rest for even a second. The ref blows his whistle, but Isaac can’t find it within himself to care about a potential card. He kneels beside Wright, pretending as if he’s helping the boy up, then whispers something so quietly only he can hear.

“Stop eyeing my girlfriend.”

Wright’s face pales instantly. Obviously, he didn’t know what he was getting himself into, but he knows now. Isaac straightens up, jerking Wright up with a little too much force, leaving the other boy stumbling. Scott is shaking his head through a barely concealed eye roll, but Isaac just grins. Yeah, he likes lacrosse a lot.

Y/N is waiting for him after the game ends. She raises an eyebrow when she sees him approach. “That was a little hard, don’t you think?”

Isaac feigns innocence. “What, that hit back there? I guess I just got really invested in the sport.”

Y/N smirks. “Yeah, I think I can see that. It wasn’t because he was winking at me?”

Isaac stretches his arms, relishing in the pull of his muscles. “He should have known better. I say he got what was coming for him.”

Y/N sighs, although she’s smiling by now. “I think I knew you were going to say that.”

Isaac leans in to kiss her cheek. “Think of it as a declaration of my love. I like you too much to share with anyone else.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “That sounds pretty good to me. I love you too, by the way.”

The words light a fire in Isaac’s heart, burning so bright he almost chokes on the smoke. When he kisses her, he feels every spark, every flare of the flames. He knew he was lucky to have her, but it really hits him sometimes, just how good he has it. The night grows late, but he doesn’t feel tired, not at all. He’s with the girl he loves, and he doesn’t need anything else.

teen wolf tag list: i would also tackle some guy for you @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

[planetsano]

xbox or playstation? 🎮

SYNOPSIS ✰ eren finds more interest in gaming than you, his horny girlfriend.

WARNINGS ✰ nsfw/18+, gamer au, streamer/gamer eren, very needy and horny reader, humping, sex in a gaming chair, blowjob, dirty talk, eren is kinda mean but he lets you use him to get off.

PAIRING ✰ eren yeager x female reader.

The uncomfortable throbbing and heat coming from between your legs were enough to pull you from your sleep. The dream you experienced before waking up was the cause— your boyfriend fucking you into the mattress while his large hand your face hard-pressed into the sheets as he pounded into you from behind. It was expected, Eren’s been streaming and gaming for most of the day, leaving you to fend for yourself to find your own entertainment. Usually, you didn’t mind. It was his job and how he paid rent but on this particular day you were feeling very needy and your advances were met with a dismissive ‘I’m working.’ or ‘I’m busy right now. Can’t you wait later?’

A tiny whine escaped your lips as you sat up, wiping the sleep from your hazy eyes to an empty bed. The orange light from the sunset was bleeding through the window, entering the room and coloring the walls a warm apricot color.

5:15 pm is what the digital clock sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed read. He should be finished streaming.

The soft pitter-patter of your soft feet sounded again the cold hardwood flooring throughout the hallway as you made your way to what you like to call ‘the homewrecking room’, it’s just his workroom but maybe you’re a little bit of a drama queen. The door was halfway open, so you stuck your head in. It was rather dark, his LEDs turned off and the blinds from the window closed. His face was illuminated by the computer monitors in front of his face. He wasn’t on stream right now that was a fact but you still knocked on the twice before stepping in.

“Eren,” You called for him.

Your soft voice grabs Eren’s attention, making him do a double-take. He takes his hand to push one side of his headset behind his ear, eyes locked on you for a moment. He’s not sure if you want to tell him something but he couldn’t lie, you looked cute right now— dressed in nothing but his hoodie and your cute panties. You were wearing the cotton ones that had the teeny ribbon bow at the waistband. You had a sleepy look on your face, rubbing your eyes with one of your sweater paws.

“Took a nap?” He asks— his eyes darting back to the main computer monitor out of the three in front of him.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, walking over to him and standing at the armrest of his chair.

Eren looks pretty right now. He always does but you especially love when he wears his hair down. He’s so invested in the game— brows furrowed in concentration while his fingers skillfully mashed the controller’s buttons. The game controller looks so small in his hands compared to when you’re holding it.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask softly, wiggling your sweater paw on his forearm.

Eren leans back further in his gaming chair, lifting his arms as an invitation for you to come climb into his lap. So you did— settling yourself onto his thighs with both your legs on either side of his waist. Your body melts into his with your face buried in his neck, taking in his scent. He smelled faintly of his favorite cologne, a sultry mixture of amber and cedarwood. Eren’s arms wrap around your frame, his slender hands still pressing the buttons on his controller rapidly. You can hear his friends’ yelling, profanities, and jokes spill through his headset. To be frank, you were getting a little jealous because you wanted his attention. You’ve been asking for it the entire day nearly.

“Miss you, Eren..” You whine quietly into his skin.

“Flank to your right, Jean-” Eren mutes his mic. “I’m right here, pumpkin.” He rubs yours back a couple of times before his hand is back on the controller. Eren isn’t really there and definitely not paying attention either, you can tell. There's a clear difference in tone— disinterest, and dismissiveness when speaking to you and the lighthearted words and chuckles his friends get.

“Pay attention to me.” You mumble.

“I am.” He deadpans.

“You’re not, you jerk.” Your shirt balls up into your fist.

You just want him— and you’re not exactly picky with how either.

One of your hands finds its way to your clothed pussy, lodging itself in between his crotch and yours before you begin to hump it, adding pressure on your clit from your middle and ring finger.

“What are you doing?” Eren asks quietly enough for his headset not to pick up his words.

“Nothing.” You whimper, continuing to rut yourself against your hand and taking in your boyfriend’s scent.

It’s not enough though, you know it’s not enough. In a way, you almost hate how Eren conditioned you to want his cock and his only. It’s so fucking big and pretty, he knows it too. The way you can feel that thick vein that protrudes angrily along his length rub against your g spot with every thrust. God, and how he splits you open is almost scary but you can’t get enough of it. Fingers, pillows, toys just don’t do it for you anymore— and your hand right now certainly wasn’t.

“C’n I put you inside?” You lift yourself lazily from his shoulder to look at him, pouting and flushed in the face. Eren sighs, before muting his mic once again.

“Will you behave? I’m serious, (Name). I’m not fucking you right now. Jean is recording for his channel.” He says.

“s’okay!” You perk up a bit. “Just wanna feel you.” You say.

“You say that then we end up fucking..” He sighs when he sees the sad puppy eyes you were putting on for him.

“Go on then, Get me hard.”

It’s been thirty minutes— thirty aching minutes of being stuffed full of Eren’s fat cock. Your panties have long since been discarded somewhere on the floor while his shorts and boxers are pulled halfway down his thighs. You know he can feel your walls fluttering around him every time one of you shifts even the slightest bit, and the most frustrating thing about it is: he doesn’t seem to be affected by any of this. Still ignoring you with his dick buried balls deep into your cunt. Every time you attempted to grind your hips down onto his, he would pinch your thigh hard enough to sting.

“Rennie,” You had tears pricking at your eyes at this point, all you wanted to do was cum but your boyfriend was being a jerk.

“Are you this insatiable? My god.” Eren asks.

“Please, Eren. I miss you.” You rolled your hips onto his.

“Fine. Use it, get yourself off. But I’m not helping you.”

Eren doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re fucking yourself on his cock— quite literally using him as your own personal dildo. Your arms are wrapped snug around his neck, muffling your moans in his neck as you bounce yourself up and down on his shaft. The head of his cock hitting your cervix every time your hips slammed down onto his. The chair creaking underneath you both with your rapid movements was paired with soft sounds of skin slapping, your labored breathing, and whines. You’re almost certain his teammates can hear you, but it doesn’t matter to you. The only thing on your mind right now was using your boyfriend to get yourself off.

You feel your high form in the pit of your tummy, erupting like a volcano when you reach its peak. Your walls clamp around your boyfriend’s big cock— walls fluttering and clenching in erratic rhythms around his shaft. Your thighs are burning and shaking as you tried your best to silence your moans by biting down on his shoulder. Eren feels it all, he knows you just came but he’s still unbothered, his eyes locked on the screen. His body only moves slightly when you tug on his neck a little too hard. You’re limp in his lap, catching your breath when you hear Eren’s team call for a 10-minute break before resuming another session.

“Satisfied?” He asks, pulling back his headphones so they lay around his neck.

“You didn’t cum.” You say, your cheek slightly squished from his shoulder. Eren only shrugs and ushers you to get up by tapping on your thighs and you followed suit— lifting yourself off his cock. It falls heavy out of you, slapping softly onto his shirt glistening from your juices.

“Clean it.” He says.

You drop to your knees taking his shaft into your palm, dragging your tongue along his length making sure to flatten your muscle to cover more area. You look up through your lashes at Eren to see he’s on his phone— body relaxed with his arm rested behind his head, scrolling through Twitter. Ignoring you, again.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue around the flushed red tip— then taking as much as you possibly could into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to create a sucking sensation. The rest that couldn’t fit was being fisted by your hand.

“I said clean up your mess, not get me off,” Eren says, looking down at you instead of at his phone. You released him from your mouth with an explicit ‘pop.’

“Will you feed me, Eren?” You ask, eyes never leaving his. “‘m hungry.” Your hand continues to pump him lazily.

“Fuck- Yeah, I got something for you. Hold still.” Eren’s phone is long forgotten, his hand grabbing a fist full of your hair pulling your head back.

“Use both hands, yeah- stroke my cock, baby.” Eren’s moans sound breathless and pretty. You’re moving your hands up and down his dick at a rapid pace.

“Open your mouth. Said you were hungry, right?” Eren shoots his load onto your tongue unannounced— his thick ropes painting your pretty pink tongue white, some of it dripping down your chin. He’s looking down at you with lidded eyes and his bottom lip nursed between his teeth as he rides out his high with a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Your hands come to an eventual stop and you roll your tongue back into your mouth, swallowing your snack. Eren takes a finger, swiping it along your chin to gather the excess that didn’t make it into your tummy. You gladly taking his finger into your mouth sucking it clean.

“Now get out. I’m working.”

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

[atzsslut]

ateez as lyrics from 'deja vu'

warnings | includes smut/suggestive, explicit descriptions based on the english translated lyrics from ateez's song 'deja vu'.

smut | includes rough/sensual sex, implied fem/afab reader (but take it any way you want!), mentions of having a 'big dick', masturbation, degradation, giving/receiving oral sex, asphyxiation, daddy/sir kink, dom!ateez, etc.

smut under the cut, minors do not interact

Kim Hongjoong

"It feels as if I just had a dream in a dream.

Oh, it's like the shivers of my body remember you."

Fucking into his own fist, Joong shut his eyes to imagine it being your own core engulfing him in pleasure.

Concentrating hard enough as his thoughts filled with you, he swore that his body could remember every inch of skin, crevice, and mark that you had left on him or had been felt by him.

You were a dream—his dream, every single moment spent together in the bedroom, or wherever you two had decided to do it, was special to him, feeling you clench around him as you reached your high.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." his string of swears familiar to your ears whenever you took him in your mouth, "Just like that, baby. You're taking me so well."

He couldn't wait until he could meet you again.

Park Seonghwa

"I go insane, the moment we meet each other's eyes.

I couldn't stop, I feel an endless thirst."

He had an obsession for looking you dead straight in the eyes whenever he was on top of you, fucking into you like he had never had a taste of you before.

And when he wasn't in the position to directly look you in the eyes, he made use of the full-body mirror he kept in his room to look at you through the direct reflection of lust induced sex in it.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling. I want to watch you while you cum all over Sir's cock." — is his favorite phrase, and it applies to when he's fingering you as well.

Seonghwa wouldn't exactly call himself a loud or the most 'masculine' man, but he sure as hell went well over feral when he desired you and your beloved touch.

Jung Yunho

"I go insane, we start making a pair.

A decalcomanie on a white sheet."

Yunho had a slight fetish for fucking you on light-coloured bed sheets, preferably white, seeing that it made you look deliciously angelic to him.

As he pounded into you, his own being physically and emotionally taking over you as he continuously abused your sex at an animalistic pace, he had a goal to make sure you leaked onto the sheets as he loved seeing the little puddle of your arousal stain them.

"My precious, pretty cumslut," he grunted, taking you from behind as he held both your arms to keep you up, "Cumming all over daddy's cock and this bed like it's your job."

It's safe to say that you started buying more white sheets ever since you figured out his dirty fetish if it meant he'd fuck you the way he did over and over again.

Kang Yeosang

"I'm confused whether it's an illusion or an illness.

It's an instinct for my heart to want you. I get deja vu."

One thing that Yeosang liked to compliment you with was how "unreal" you were. Having met you the way he did, every second that he spent with you was a treat for his heart, especially when he got to see you on your knees and take his cock down your throat.

As his visions grew slightly hazy, watching you almost hungrily hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper into your mouth, his fingers that were laced into your hair tried their best to not hurt you too much.

Just enough to make it pleasurably sting as he pushed you downwards to fully take him in.

"You're so fucking good to me, sweetheart." he complimented, smiling as you peered up at him through your lashes, "God, I never want you to stop."

And even in the next time that you gave him head, he would look back at the previous time to stimulate himself even more—his dearest kind of deja vu.

Choi San

"The scarlet scent burns up and restrains me.

... Run when we get started, we become breathless racing."

He adored your perfume, especially when he could smell it as he strongly held you in his arms by the chest and waist to hold you against him as he fucked you from behind.

San was vocal to say the least when it came to sex. Not only was he not too shy to moan aloud, or whisper dirty nothings into your ear, you loved it most when his breath began to hitch when he was close to bottoming out into your cunt.

But what made him different than anyone else you had ever slept with was when he went down on you, devouring your arousal and desperately sucking at your clit. If he felt like it, he would also add a finger or two into your sopping hole.

"Holy shit," which sounded more like 'hly shmt' as he muttered it while eating you out, "Such a fucking whore for daddy, I can feel you clenching around my fingers and trembling when I suck harder."

And you came hard every single time; breathless.

Song Mingi

"Your breath reaches me, will my breath reach you too?

Even if it takes my breath away ... Find you in my dream."

Mingi especially enjoyed it when you rode him.

Not because he was lazy or didn't want to make effort to fuck you (cause he did, very much so), but the view of your bouncing tits and blissful face made him feel an unexplainable type of way.

He found you the most beautiful when you were desperately trying to chase your high, especially when with every time you went down, you would press down to his abdomen to grind your clit against his pelvis.

"Wanna cum, baby?" he managed to say in between deep breaths, his voice rugged and filled with lust. He chuckled when you nodded, wordless as you moaned out his name, "That's right, say my name. Say my name while you—fuck—take my big fucking cock."

Usually, you would deny it and jokingly make fun of Mingi for showing off what he was 'packing', but you couldn't deny it at this moment when you felt like you were in paradise from the way he was delectably stretching you open.

Jung Wooyoung

"I'm thirsted by desire.

My senses are dulled by the attraction that captivates me."

Wooyoung was exceptional at sex, to say the least. But he got magically better when he hadn't gotten the chance to see you for a long time, desire taking over his body like he was thirsty as he ate you out.

Captivated between your thighs, his grip tightened on them to hold them open, since you began to falter after one or two orgasms he had given you from sucking on your sensitive bud, legs caving in from the overwhelming pleasure.

It was as if he wanted to do nothing but go down on you forever, eyes closed as he took in everything he could, one of his hands ever moving up your body without him even looking to find your wanton breasts.

"So fucking sweet for me, huh?" he would stop for a few seconds to just look at your flushed state, now using his thumb to play with your clit as he spoke, "Fucking answer me when I'm speaking to you, slut."

And, of course, you would answer him in a pant with 'Yes Sir, all for you'—just the way he liked it.

Choi Jongho

"The moment I went insane, I'm already game set.

It's about to explode so bad."

Jongho was strong, and he loved to show it off. He had a habit of manhandling you whenever you two did it, but only because he knew you loved it.

The look on your face whenever he fucked you from behind and held you up by the arms, whenever he gripped your waist/hips/thighs hard enough to make them red, whenever he put one hand around your throat as he rampantly fucked into you, smirking at your hands that gripped his arm as if telling him to not stop choking you.

"You're so beautiful, angel," he would compliment sweetly, contradicting to his paced movements of his cock stretching you open while asphyxiating you just enough to make you sopping wet, "So, so pretty when you beg me to put my hand on your throat like the whore you are for me. Just for me."

In more ways than one, you burned for Jongho as he did for you.

[floandroid]

The Immediate Forgiveness In Eurydice

(Vergil x F!Reader)

CW : Angst

This has been sitting in my drafts so long so I'll just upload it here :) Have fun reading folks! I'm still busy with school so requests will definitely be slow

When he comes back to you

He looked like a lost child. He stood outside your door, knuckles rasping against the hardwood, half expecting you to accept him warmly as you did before or act cold, as he treated you when he left.

In the middle of a heated argument, he walked out on you. On your relationship, without so much of an explanation. Suppose, he thinks, that you deserve closure. An explanation on why did what he had to do.

But what does he say? That his pursuit of better power was more important than you?

He can’t. His pride won’t allow it. There was...just too much to unpack.

How he even allowed himself to go back to your apartment was a mystery. His humanity was restored and memories of you flooded him. He remembers your tender touches to his face, the way you’d trace his lips after kissing. The way you’d run your fingers into his hair, especially when his hair was down.

Your warmth, your scent- He feels as if he was ripped off basic human needs all these years.

And before he could land one more knock on the door, he hears the sound of the door handle unlocking. The half devil froze. His hand stuck to his side while the other hand gripped the handle of the Yamato. His steel grey eyes were glued to the wooden floor.

He remembers when he’d take you on your floor, your mewls were music to his ears as he took whatever he wanted from your body

You cough. But he doesn’t look up.

Fuck. What does he say?

It was sheer silence.

“You…” he begins but he can’t even look at you. Instead, he keeps his head down as if he was a child that was just scolded for running away “I…”

How hard is it? To ask forgiveness from you? You don’t need any grandeur expression of regret, just simply say-

“I was about to eat dinner” Your soft voice was a soothing song to him. It was barely above a whisper and he dared not to gaze up at the expression on your face out of fear that you’d have that look of disappointment. Or worse, a spiteful look. The one where you had no ounce of love for him.

Please I

“Would you like some dinner too?”

You move from your spot by the door to let him in. He clenches his jaw. Although not hungry, he accepts nonetheless. As fast as a bullet from Nero’s gun goes, he is hit by a wave of nostalgia. The way your apartment smelled was still the same, it was enough for him to break down and cry. He bites his inner cheek and moves to your small dining area.

He still knows where it was. The little knick knacks on your table were still on display. Two cats, one white one nuzzling into grey one. He balls his fists. It was a gift from him.

This reminded me of us, he recalls.

He doesn’t flinch when you place a plate full of pasta in front of him, his eyes glued onto the white ceramic dinnerware. He feels like a goddamn robot when he picks up the fork and twirls the noodles.

Usually dinner was a time for the two to catch up. He wasn’t the chatty kind, you didn’t mind, really. But when you talked about the little things you saw, what you did, what you ate and what caught your eye at the store- god please keep talking to him. The smile on your face was the most precious thing in the world and it was just for him.

He’d destroy a village for you, he’d level a skyscraper for you, he’d...Then he remembers how  much you despised destruction. You’d remind him, over and over again, that between the two of you, what you only wished for him was that you’d be a better person. If not for him, for you.

Well...did he?

Dinner was quiet and there was an air of awkwardness. It hurts pretending that the two of you didn’t have something so beautiful. Only an idiot like him would throw it all away.

After dinner, you were left alone to clean the plates. Vergil, on the other hand, allowed himself to have a quick bath. The thought of asking for forgiveness from you still lingered in his brain. Under the hot water, he could vaguely recall the sound of your sobbing when he walked out. He hated himself for it.

He spent the next few weeks going on a demon killing spree. He never did dare come back home for a year after that.

His shower was cut abrupt when he noticed his fingers pruning. He goes out and wraps a towel around his waist. During these hours in the night, you’d be up watching some trashy T.V show. Almost as if it was muscle memory, he makes a beeline to your living room.

His brain shouts at him. Look at her! Look at her and ask for forgiveness! He can’t…

He doesn’t realize he collapsed in front of you. His knees digging into your persian rug, damp hair sticking to your pajamas. His cheek is pressed to your thighs, and his strong arms wrapped around your legs. With his eyes closed, he takes a heavy breath, inhaling your scent. You were what he deemed was comfort.

You were alive. You were there with him and you weren’t pushing him away.

“Vergil”

Your hands ran through his still wet hair, combing and playing with it until it rests just at the very top of his head. Leaning down, your hands made its way to his face, cupping him and having him face you

And oh god, his pupils dilated. You were as gorgeous as the day he left you.

“I forgive you”

And your smile, he feels his worries fade but the guilt still stays. His mouth hangs open and he stops a sob coming out of his throat.

“I love you”

He melts. Body sagging, losing that tension that held him up. With a shaky breath, he slides out of your hold, his body moving down a bit more. His face now was facing your knees. On your clothed knees he gives each one of them a kiss.

Still, he deems himself unworthy to touch your lips with his.

[pilothusband]

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie​ for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even. 

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.” 

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin. 

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree. 

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths. 

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment. 

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?” 

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” 

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms. 

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair,  but your arms aren’t long enough to reach. 

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

 He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

 “Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

 He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing. 

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

 Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

 He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

 “Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

 You moan and break the kiss.

 “Want to take this to my room?”

 He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

 You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

 You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

 “I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

 “Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

 You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

 “So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

 It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

 Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

 “So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

 You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern. 

 “No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

 You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

 Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace. 

 All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

 His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

 “Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

 You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly. 

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

 The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes. 

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

[kozumedenki]

can you do a scenario where male reader got badly hurt during that mission to save eri and katsuki (reader's boyfriend) it's all mad etc because he didn't know about the mission and is too worried like "omg i didn't know anything, he got hurt and he could have fucking died but i wasn't there to help him" shfhjs i'm in love with worried!katsuki :(( thx, missed your scenarios<3

+ hold me, never let go ⮯

(name) rested his head back against the pillow, staring up at the binding lights of the hospital room. balloons and cards and flowers were scattered everywhere from family and members of his class but that didn't help the pitfall in his stomach. if anything, it just made the churning black hole of regret and frustration.

he barely did a thing.

mirio, tamaki, ejirou... izuku. they all gave so much and he tried so hard and yet, he could barely help any of them. how could he even call himself a hero?

tears overflowed, pouring down his heated cheeks. he choaked back a sob while he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying so hard to keep more tears from flowing. sob after sob, his chest began to hurt and his throat became sore but he couldn't stop. he filled the whole room with tears and cries, his only comfort the silence he gets in response.

BANG!

(name) jumped in his bed, sobs lessening to sniffles as he looked at the door of his room that had been blown completely off its hinges. "t-tsuki? what are you-"

"you idiot!" the blonde clenched his fists as he softoy seethes, stomping over to his boyfriend's hospital bed. "you could have been killed or worse... you stupid... god dammit!"

the (color) haired boy had never seen katuski so worked up before. he was never at a loss for words and yet, he couldn't even meet (name)'s tear filled gaze. it was frightening.

" 'tsuki... katsuki," (name) rubbed his cheek dry as he gently reached for his boyfriend's hand, gently intertwining their fingers. "deep breaths... okay? i'm sorry, really. i was told not to talk about it and i was so sure i could-"

"i'm sorry..."

(name) froze, (color) hues widening as he scanned the blonde's face. why was he apologizing? none of this had been his fault, this had been all (name) being in way too over his own head. also, even if it was katsuki's fault, he never apologized... not verbally at least.

"katsuki..." he smiled gently, giving his hand a small squeeze. "you have nothing to apologize for."

katsuki's grip tightened and pulled his boyfriend into his chest, a hand burying itself in his (color) locks. he closed his eyes as he steadied his breathing before opening his mouth to speak, "i wasn't there to protect you... you're hurt and i couldn't do anything."

(name)'s eyes filled with tears again, a hand moving to grip onto the blonde's shirt as he buried his face in his chest. he cried softly into the blonde's chest as he found genuine comfort in the smell of burnt caramel that seemed to completely imprint into the blonde's clothes no matter how much he cleaned them. "i love you," he sobbed. "i'm so sorry i wasn't stronger, not like midoriya or kirishima. i'm so sorry i made you worry."

katsuki softly shushed the other, petting his hair as he gently swayed to try and help calm the (color) haired boy down. "stop apologizing, you idiot. i'm just happy you're safe."

[yeoldontknow]

the light keeper’s daughter | jhs (m)

A/N: written as fulfillment for the july house games at @bangtansorciere  ❂ To The Lighthouse      ⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee @inkedtae through @bangtansorciere​ AU Type: Trident’s Tides (soulmates) Themes: God/Goddess (goddess reader); Secret Relationship Kinks: clit biting; pain kink; size kink; masturbation; degradation; overstimulation; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing

↝ Creative Content Contributor: @jamaisjoons​ for this incredible banner. its literally so stunning ;~; ↝ Pairing: Lighthouse Keeper!Hoseok x Goddess of Light!Reader (oc; female) ↝ Genre: soulmate au; secret relationship au; gods/goddess au; mentions of an arranged marriage; heavy angst; smut; romance; pining ↝ Rating: NC-17 | 18+ ↝ Summary: For years, you’ve kept your relationship with Hoseok a secret. As the daughter of the God of Light, you are destined to marry anyone who slays the beast in the Gloaming Isles in your honor. When that day finally comes, you go to Hoseok to tell him your relationship must end and you are set to be married. One last time, Hoseok reminds you no one will love you as eternally, as enduringly, as he. ↝ Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language; pregnancy; unprotected sex; creampie; masturbation; clit biting; oral sex (f receiving); pain kink; size kink; overstimulation; light degradation; a brief handjob; impreg kink; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing; crying; biting; marking; scratching; brief mentions of blood ↝ Word Count: 14.7K        ↝ special thank you to @softyoongiionly​ and @kithtaehyung​ for reading through this and being amazing betas! if there are any mistakes left over they are absolutely my own and the fact that 98% of this was written while sprinting owo

Looking at Hoseok, you think, is exactly like being struck by lightning. Which is to say, every time, all the time, looking at Hoseok means you feel him everywhere, all over and all at once. 

Inside the lighthouse, there is no escaping him. 

Pressing your back against the rough concrete of the small light room, you tilt your head to the side as the totality of Hoseok’s warmth, ardor, and fidelity blossoms over you. He flowers deep in the nodes of your lungs, your breath constricted as you take him in, studying the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose, the way he wears the night as though he is the stars.

In the distance, waves rush to the shore, kissing the land with the same enthusiasm you wish to be kissing him, only to pull away from land; the water shy, anxious of the earth’s response to its affections. Over and over, the sea rolls like thunder. Every now and then, the light that spins overhead refracts downward, illuminating the blood that has rushed to his cheeks. Flushed, his lips part as he processes the words you have just told him, all red and red and red with understanding.

As though he is burning, as though you are not burning for him, your hands clinging tightly to your skirts as you hold your knees against your chest. It should be utterly unfair, you think, for him to appear so beautiful, so exquisite, even as he remains painfully stricken by your words. The searing ache in your chest germinates alongside your love, mind racing with the apologies he deserves. Your bones tremble with the force of remaining still, prepared to reach out and hold his face and tell him it was a lie. You want to smile for him, want to tease him, want to say you’d been terribly silly and that such jokes are best kept for nights when the sky is not clouded, not cold, and instead warmed by your shared rapture. 

How you would like to give him all the kindest, all the softest, words in the world.

‘It can’t be true.’

He’s said this twice, the disbelief in his voice only just winning out against the grief. Hoseok repeats it again, taking a step towards you, eyes cast down to where you have slunk in shame and sadness. Hands limp at his sides, his fingers quake, torn between balling his hands into fists or running through his hair, their resting place for his worry. Deciding on neither, he simply stands tall and stoic, appearing so small in the light that cascades around the room.

You’d glow for him if you could, if you felt like you deserved to illuminate any part of him at all.

Looking away from his woefully dejected expression, you turn your attention to the small gap in the wall beside you. A window once blocked the wind - stained glass, exquisite. It shattered during a storm, on a night when he pressed himself so deep inside you traces of his essence lingered on your tongue. He was deep enough it hurt, rolling into you with enthusiastic vigor. Tonight, the breeze smells of low tide, acrid in the back of your nose and sour, just like your mood.

‘We knew this would happen,’ is your quiet reply. 

A weak and pathetic excuse, you hate the words even as you say them. Shameful, you think with a grimace, to have pretended that you could have a happy ending, that convincing your father would have been simple. The lies you told yourself and Hoseok, the platitudes that fell from your lips to comfort him, turn on your now, betrayals stacked against you that weigh heavily your judgement. You’ve been childish, so childish, to assume you could have ever been happy.

Hoseok shakes his head, refusing to accept your answer. All fury and rage, he comes to stand before you and lowers to his knees, demanding you look at him. His presence is a live wire, the heat and energy from his skin is vital, a pull against yours that makes you regard him once more, confronted by his enduring beauty. Flooding your vision, he is all you see, all you can fathom, your world beginning and ending with his pleading eyes. 

‘But it’s been years,’ he argues, the high pitched tone of his voice wavering and taught with emotion. He’s older than you, physically, but at this moment he has never been so young, so small, so gloriously human. ‘Centuries even. It’s unfair to you.’

A huff of breath rushes through your nose, your scoff ripe with bitterness. ‘Someone finally slayed the Sydral, as archaic as this ritual actually is. My father said I should have always expected it.’

‘And so now…’ Hoseok’s voice drifts, falling back onto his knees crestfallen. The corner of his lips drop into the beginnings of a deep frown, all manner and will to fight rapidly dissipating.

‘I have to marry them,’ you nod, answering his unspoken question.

For a long while, you hold his gaze, allowing yourself to get lost in the umber of his irises and missing the mirth that usually ignites their sparkle. It is just his breath that cascades over your skin, just the waves that rush beyond the light room, just the world that seems to turn onward, without you, time passing without either of you truly acknowledging it. In this silence, you see your history, your every moment spent with him: the day you met; the day he could not help himself any longer and kissed you soundly, without restraint; the first moment you told him you loved him; the first moment he said he needed you; the plastic ring he won at the pier arcade - extraordinary in all its ugliness - and the gentle, reverent, way he slid it over your finger, calling it a promise of fidelity. 

In Hoseok, you see it all. 

Similarly, he drowns in you, the pink of his cheeks deepening to rose with each passing breath. Posture falling slack, the strap of his ride suspender slips from his shoulder, the collar of his linen shirt loosening with the lack of restraint. A sliver of his collarbone becomes exposed, golden and rich, a tantalizing patch of skin you would caress and kiss if only the circumstances had been different. You wonder idly what he remembers of you, what he sees in your own dispirited expression. You wonder if he remembers the way he loved you, the way he loved you beyond your light and into your darkness. 

You wonder if he remembers the way he ate your shadows - with his whole mouth, with fervor, with pride. You wonder if he remembers the way you devoured him just the same. 

‘This is ridiculous,’ he announces, finally. Turning to look out the window, he regards the sky solemnly, the curve of his profile imposing in its majesty. Eyes narrowed, it is the harshest he has ever looked, devoid of forgiveness. ‘It’s supposed to be me.’

Swiftly, you shake your head, adamant in your disagreement. You reach for him, leaning forward to rest your hand against his chest, against his heart where it thunders in his sternum. Warmth from his skin radiates into your blood, taking root between your joints. Hoseok worms his way into pieces of your spirit long left abandoned, and you swallow thickly, wondering if such affection as this is normal, if it’s always this way.

‘I’d never have let you.’ Your dispute is biting, sharp enough Hoseok turns his eyes back to you, jaw clenched and tight with silent fury. ‘You’re human. It would have killed you. And then where would I be?’

‘You’d be sitting where I am,’ he argues, emphatic. 

Reaching for your hand where it rests, he covers it with his own, lifting it slightly to twine his fingers with yours. Unable to help himself, he inches closer, running his thumb over your knuckles and sending shivers along your nerves. Like always, his touch is a wildfire, the electric kinetic energy needed to set you aglow. Your mind swims with him the same way your body becomes whelmed by his devotion, but he does not let himself become distracted. 

‘Do you even understand?’ Voice little more than a whisper, Hoseok’s gaze is penetrating, a bite to his veneration that demands your complete attention. Tilting his head to the side, he continues. ‘You think I wouldn’t die for you?’

You squeeze his hand with tenacity, acknowledging his sentiment, but he does not see all the things you have witnessed. He does not know the true menace of the Sydral, does not know its tricks, its many heads, its speed, its cunning; Hoseok would die for you, and death would find him quickly. 

Instead, you offer him a small smile, one that is so fragile and close to breaking. Hoseok’s intensity burns within your chest, transforming his softness into the valor of a man that leaves you breathless. Salvaging your own strength, you lower your gaze to the white collar of his shirt, to the soft linen and the expanse of his throat where he swallows. This you can regard with pleasure, can regard without fearing you may shatter.

And so you smile, finding the will to fight him once more. ‘The problem,’ you begin, hoping the earnestness of your smile is enough to cool the rage that boils in his throat, ‘is that I know you would. And I would live my life alone, married to him while knowing you are gone. Would you really condemn me to such misery? My darling, I would die to keep you safe.’

This feels like anguish; this feels like dying, you think to yourself, growing ever more despondent the longer you feel Hoseok pleading with the emptiness that lurks behind your eyes. You can’t bear to face him, not when the tightness in your throat becomes a threat, tears lingering on the precipice of spilling. Every time his gaze meets yours it is brutal in its honesty, violent in the way your love and lust tumbles so completely into grief.

‘How long?’ he manages, breathing life to the very question you’d been hoping to avoid. 

Your future is still so far away, distant enough it makes this moment, and every moment to follow, heavy with the pain of imagination. Still, you’ve never been able to deny him anything. 

Once more, you turn to view the window, regarding it with a vacant expression as though you are regarding time itself. ‘You know this is the last time I can see you.’

‘I know,’ he bites out, unwilling to let you dodge the answer. ‘I mean how long until...you’re not mine anymore.’

‘That’s...not possible,’ you offer gently, casting him a solemn, detached grin. ‘I am always going to be yours. Even when I’m in his bed, even when I’m thousands of miles away, even in death, I am yours.’

Hoseok pulls you against him, compelling your complete attention. Eyes wide, you study his face - the resolution of his passion fierce enough to be an earthquake against your sternum, a collision of meeting worlds. His arm winds itself around your waist while he still clutches your hand, the strength of his grip stinging against your knuckles. You tremble against his powerful frame, inhaling the deep scent of cedar and ambergris that always clings to him, the salt of the ocean that lingers on his skin, the dust that has saturated his shirt from the lighthouse, and you; your vanilla and lemon, the brightness of your own natural scent that emanates from your light and always seems to find him, not unlike rays of the sun. 

Your mouth waters at this closeness, his own eyes darkened to a rich black as he studies you seriously. You’ve wounded him - worse, you’ve denied him - and he presses the tips of his fingers into the soft muscles of your back, ensuring you cannot leave him. Not until he is ready to let you go.  

‘You know what I mean,’ he breathes, words lowered to a hiss. If he were a vengeful sort of man, he would be full of venom. Instead, there is only remorse in his insistence.

Closing your eyes, you sigh. ‘Months, most likely. Tomorrow the rituals begin - the seven days feast, the Fate Tying, the Blood Gathering.’ 

When you look at him again, your lower lip begins to quake. Saying the words makes it all feel immediate, tangible, as though your father stands in the dark corners of the light room casting his judgements. You almost feel him there, his presence always so sinister for a man blessed to command the light; he resides in the silent places, giving birth to shadows, prepared to pull you from bliss at a moment's notice. 

‘All this pomp and circumstance from eras bygone,’ you continue, grounding yourself in the firmness of Hoseok’s arms and chest. The bones of his knees press into your thighs; your hand caught between your twin heartbeats; you immerse yourself in the pain of this connection and remind yourself it hurts because he was always meant to be yours. ‘It’s been centuries since a goddess has been married off, and yet somehow I’m the first for such a sentence. The wedding won’t be for at least five months.’

‘Then we have time.’ Hope saturates his words, his hold on you growing ever more unyielding. ‘You can still come to me, we can still see each other,’ he explains quickly, speaking in a rush. ‘No one will have to know.’

Biting your lips, you raise your hand to the soft strands of his hair, carding your fingers through it. All silk and satin, you relish the texture as his desperation soaks into your pores. 

‘I wish that could be true.’ Even as you speak, you focus on his hair, committing these small details to memory. The curve of his bang in the center of his forehead, the deep amber and dark sienna and all the golden highlights that come to life in the daylight, the way all of him, every piece, is soft enough to break you. Yes, you focus on it all. ‘All the Old Gods will be gathering in Teylim. There will be more eyes on me than ever before. Ladies coming to fuss over my hair, my clothes, the oils I wear; men worshiping Daeus like he’s some kind of king when, really, he’s just lucky enough to be half of a god. I won’t be able to get away.’

Hoseok’s eyes roam your face, wild and storming, waiting for you to amend your answer. When you do not speak, his brow furrows and he exhales, a small whimper released from the center of his breaking heart. ‘So this is it, then? This is really it?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ you whisper, moving your hand from his hair to cup his cheek. 

He presses himself into your touch, turning just slightly to kiss delicately at your palm. The sweetness of his tenderness splinters the last of your courage, the tears you’ve so valiantly held back starting to burn as they spill over to your cheeks. 

‘I wish it could be different,’ you plead - with everyone and no one at all. ‘I wish for it everyday. Hoseok, I can’t -’ Distraught, you choke on your own words, and Hoseok pulls you firmly against him, resting your head against his shoulder. ‘I can’t breathe without you. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.’

Hoseok says nothing at all as you dampen his shirt, tears spilling into the linen as you struggle not to collapse against him completely. When you are finally alone, you will succumb to the sorrow that has learned to occupy every chamber of your heart. When you are finally alone, you will eat the spirit of rage with teeth and fangs, and you will let the darkness have you, refusing to let the light erupt from your skin. But for now, you let the tears arrive of their own accord, aware that you are suddenly too sad to even weep, tears dripping into his shirt as means to remain a part of him.

Against you, Hoseok’s breath becomes uneven, his own shoulders shuddering as he minds his own heroism, fighting back his own tears. He quivers against you, his stuttering breath exhaled through his nose as he maintains his composure. The light room becomes almost too quiet, the blood rushing your ears drowning out the sound of the sea, narrowing your focus to just the shared heat between your bodies. You inch closer, removing any space that could exist between you, extinguishing any oxygen that would dare to separate you from him. What you would give for a thunderstorm, any sound at all to give life to the end of love, to the start of the war of loving. 

Unable to stomach the quiet any longer, your mind seems to become unhinged. All the tiny, miserable little thoughts Hoseok’s love kept locked away worm their way past your lips, erupting to life as though your heartbreak has given them permission to persecute you. 

‘I wish you never found me,’ you mumble, almost incoherent. Your tongue fumbles with the words, caught between weeping and speaking, making a mess of so much more than just his shirt. ‘I wish you never saw me. I could love you like that, on my own, from a distance. I could be strong enough to move through life not knowing you, loving only the idea of you. You’re so much more than anything my mind could have fabricated out of childish desire. The reality of you is heaven. And now, I’m hurting you. I should die for such a transgression.’

‘Don’t say that.’ Hoseok pulls, easing you back and lifting both his hands to cup your face. Briefly you mourn the loss of his fingers and knuckles so rough against yours, but cradled between his palms, your skin tingles, making a festival out of this contact and celebrating the nuance of his fingerprints. He looks down into you, deep enough you feel him taking root in the center of your belly. You love him most when he looks like this - fierce and unforgiving - and you cannot help the way your body responds, aroused simply by the passion of him. ‘Don’t you dare wish that,’ he commands, voice thick. ‘The day we met was the day my life started.’

‘But...’ you struggle to find the words, drifting off with the implication that, now, his life is surely ending.

‘I don’t want to know who I would be without you.’ Hoseok takes his time as he speaks, an art you cannot comprehend. 

Behind his eyes, his mind races, words living and dying before they can reach his tongue. He has so much to say, so many more promises to make, so many more words of affirmation he’d like to give you. You see them all, recognize them all - for they mirror yours, are born from your own likeness; you know them all so well, you feel as though you could reach out and touch them. 

‘I can’t fathom it, I won’t even consider it.’ Shaking his head, he denies this completely, holding onto your stare with a fixation that borders on zealous. ‘You came to me, and it felt like I could breathe. You came to me, and I felt like myself. Loving you makes me better, loving you is partly why I am alive.’

It’s difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat, its size and prowess growing ever larger in the wake of his words. In the oncoming quiet, you wish he hadn’t said it, wish he hadn’t reminded you of the way you the oncoming storm of his presence before you met him. One look at him and you had seen it all, a life designed by the Fates - marriage, children, hope, happiness. In death he’d have joined you in Teylim, youthful, young, yours. With eternity before you, you’d bask in the rapture and the joyful silliness that comes with forever. 

He felt it, too, saw it in your eyes. On your fourth meeting, he held you against him and promised you his life.

‘I will put my child in your belly,’ he announced, deliberate in the way he enunciated his words. You waited for the shock of such an exclamation to overtake you, but it never came. ‘I can’t explain it,’ he chuckled, amused by his own enthusiasm, ‘but I’m certain of it. I see my unborn children in your eyes. I think this is what the elders mean when they say there is always a plan, and you will always know it the moment you find it. I’m so certain my whole life is tied to yours.’

The memory burns within your mind, a scorch of greed mixing immediately with longing. You wish the fire of it would incinerate it to ash, that it would vanish altogether before the Fate Tying. You can handle all of these frivolous little rituals, sure of yourself and your own strength, but the Fate Tying means to unmake you. At just the thought, your stomach begins to sink. 

You will sit, hands clasped on your amber throne with the sunlight seeking your hair, your cheeks, your lips; Daeus will smile, wrapped in oak and evergreen, in the earth that flourishes beneath your light; and you will weep, watching as the Moirai unstitch your soul from Hoseok’s, peeling it apart inch by horrible inch, to thread it with the ugliness of Daeus’ strands. You will wonder, mouth dry and eyes wet, why the Moirai would bother making a man for you, would bother weaving your spirits together, only to unravel the work they had done, the love you had found. 

The movement of Hoseok’s gentle caress, pads of his thumbs running across the bones of your cheeks, returns you to the present moment. Once more he whimpers, doing his best to keep you grounded with him, unwilling to lose you before he absolutely must. Digging your nails into his shoulder as you grab fistfuls of his shirt, you wallow with him, knowing that, just like him, you don’t know who you would have become without him.

‘What do we do?’ you manage, reduced to a more pathetic version of yourself as you plead with him. Anyone else, and you’d be ashamed to appear so weak. ‘How do I do this?’

‘I don’t know,’ is all he can provide. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Promise me -’ You cut yourself off, not entirely certain where the idea comes from, what part of you would willingly propose such a request, the meaning of what you had intended to say catching up to your mind the moment you heard your own voice. Hoseok waits patiently, and you lower your gaze to the curvature of his lips, wanting to kiss and kiss and kiss him, knowing your next words will scar you both. ‘Promise me you’ll find someone else. Promise me you’ll be happy.’

Without any hesitation, he scoffs, dismissing the idea altogether. ‘Don’t ask me to tell a lie.’ 

‘I can’t, Hoseok.’ Now, it is your turn to hold his face, cupping his cheeks with veneration. Mind reeling, you envision it, certain you could take it. You are certain you would die for less. ‘I can’t do this if I spend my life knowing you’ll be unhappy. I can’t do this knowing you’re alone.’

Slowly, gently, Hoseok lets the tip of his nose press against yours, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. Breath  a deluge down and over your lips and skin, he somehow finds it within himself to smile, empty of all amusement. 

‘It’s so unfair of you to expect that I could be happy with anyone but you,’ he chastises. ‘I’d rather be alone, utterly and completely, than to be lonely with someone. They deserve better than someone who is with them out of loyalty to another person - a promise kept to the person they truly love.’

His rejection and refusal of your plea inspires a thrill in the pit of your stomach, all manner of possessive pleasure coursing through your veins. How easily he turns you into a selfish woman, how quickly his promises of fidelity make you lose all sight of strength and future vision. What sort of man is Hoseok that he should have such dominion over you, you think to yourself. But then, you know. You know as you have always known: Hoseok is your man, your lover, your soul.

Stroking his cheeks with your thumbs, just as he had done, reverently, adoringly, you bite your lip and feel your exhale shake. ‘So what will you do?’

‘I’ll do as I’ve always done,’ he shrugs, as though the very thought is not a bruise within his ribs. ‘I’ll keep the lighthouse. Every night, I’ll let the beacon burn, and keep the light on. Even on clear days, I will let the light shine.’ Hoseok smiles as he says this, the first real smile he has managed since he saw you on the shore this evening, waiting, just like always. ‘When you’re up there, perhaps you will see the light.’ 

He shifts his gaze to the roof of the light house, looking up and beyond, past the clouds, up to the seat of the gods. Furrowing his brow, he hardens his jaw just slightly, eyes turning dark as he demands your father witness him. 

When he looks at you again, he is a changed man - a boy trapped in the throes of love, and a man on the verge of letting himself perish.

‘Maybe up there,’ he murmurs, ‘you will see my light and know that I’m burning for you, just as I’ve always been. I’ll continue to love you. I’ll be good, I’ll be pious, and maybe when I die we will meet in Teylim and even in death I’ll watch you, staying close to your light like a bird in flight.’

‘Hoseok.’ The quiver of your bottom lip disrupts the cadence of his name, besmirching it to little more than a sob.

Sucking air through his teeth, Hoseok leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes fall shut. At such close proximity, you study the almost feminine length of his eyelashes, the pores of his skin, and wonder who or what god or demon you could barter with to stay inside him forever.

‘You’re supposed to be mine,’ he whimpers, the sadness welling up in him like a mountain. ‘You are mine, but…I will always be yours. Even when they untie us, I’ll be yours. They can’t thread me with anyone else. I don’t think my soul will allow it.’ 

Unable to sustain it any longer, your desire for him rises to a swell, erupting beside your sorrow - just as fervent, and even more unyielding. His words are a comfort, an echo you will revisit over and over when you have long departed, but your skin has learned how to ache for his touch, learned how to anticipate the way he moves over you like water, and you need it. You need him. 

The rest of your pitiful existence looms out before you, days and months and centuries passing without Hoseok to hold you and keep you, and you despise the very notion of it. You rebuke it, refusing to let yourself continue on without knowing how it feels to have him. Tonight, you do not want him as your lover.

Tonight, you want him as your husband.

‘Kiss me,’ you announce, guiding his forehead away from yours, skin prickling with the lack of his warmth. ‘Kiss me like it’s our wedding. I -’ The tightness of your voice steals your breath, words hot and heavy in your mouth as you say them. ‘I want to know what a marriage bed truly feels like. I want to know what our marriage bed would be like.’

Mad with an unbearable passion, no longer contained, Hoseok heeds your words and lets his tongue wander over the seam of your lips. You cling to him, clutching what you can of his shape, his body, and you sigh in woeful euphoria, granting him unspoken entry to the recesses of your mouth - but he does not enter. Your lover has always been disobedient, reckless in the evening when your skin and your lips and your heart are presented to him, and tonight he is no different. Tonight, he scorns the hour, taking his time as he traces over your cupid’s bow with his tongue, rendering the turn of the earth meaningless. The heat of his breath tickles your skin, a cascade in which you luxuriate, and your eyes, blurred by the urgency of your desire, lose all sense of your surroundings until there is only Hoseok. 

Hoseok - on you, around you, all over you, the rain and the wind all at once.

Only when he has had his fill of your lips does he press the whole of his mouth against yours, sucking languidly at your bottom lip. Skin growing tight, you keen into his kiss, consumed by greed. Slowly, he moves his hands down and down, letting his fingers trace indeterminate lines over your cheeks, your jaw, your bones until they rest at your neck. With his palm over your pulse, he holds you still, his touch a fever, his touch the sun, radiating deep into the caverns of your heart. 

Filled with him, you think. Absolutely alive with him, Hoseok lets his palm cradle the tether of your life until you are certain he is the oxygen made to sustain your mortal form. You, living and breathing, are little more than remnants of departed touches, composed entirely of his affections, his affirmations, his adoration.

So, too, do you kiss at him, battling against him for any semblance of permanence, demanding that you be remembered. Feeling you writhe against him, insistent in your need for closeness, he hums in pleasure, a musical sound that traverses your synapsis with unhurried ease. Gooseflesh raises on your arms, either by a passing breeze or the way Hoseok leans in, harder, rougher, all manner of dominance in the way he so desperately seeks to have you, and you shiver, delighted by the peak in your senses; delighted, fundamentally, that you will commit every moment of this last evening to bodily memory.

Willing to be devoured, you surrender to him, feeling arousal leak from between your folds as though his savagery has given it permission to spill over. It soaks into your underwear where you briefly mourn the fact that it will not coat your thighs, not yet, and that Hoseok must wait to see how easily you could paint yourself in your wanting. Like always, he anticipates you and ardent your longing; perceptive and always acutely aware of the way you have grown wanton. depraved by the strength of his kisses alone. 

Hoseok eases his hand to the back of your neck, determination apparent in his grip, and guides you forward to rest in his lap. Letting your legs settle on either side of his thighs, you straddle him, unwilling to break any contact he has with you, your skin, you, your hands on him. You come together like a cataclysm, the burgeoning tip of his erection firm and stubborn where it presses against your core, assertive and tantalizing even beneath the fabric of his trousers. 

It’s lewd the way you crave him deep inside you, jaw dropping as your mouth opens wide to gasp in delight. Hoseok wastes no time in letting his tongue glide against yours, explorative and eager, utterly deliberate in his stroking. Slowly, the tips of his fingers move from your neck to your hairline, ever deeper and ever more intrusive. A low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he runs his tongue over yours, grazing the roof of your mouth before he forms a fist in your hair and tilts your head back, swift and aggressive. 

All at once he pulls away, face hovering just centimeters above yours and gaze hooded as he explores your lustful expression. A flush creeps into your cheeks, the control he has over the flow of your blood is always surprising even if it is to be expected. Hoseok seems pleased, evident in the familiar way his eyes have become blackened by the force of his yearning and the smile that has worked its way into the corner of his lips, a secret for only you to discover. He takes a pause, disregarding his haste, to regard you: your parted lips, your heated cheeks - a fire that has spread itself over your chests and breasts.

‘You are a vision of sin,’ he murmurs, cocking his head to the side and tightening his grip in your hair. ‘What would all the gods say?’

Your own nails scratch tenderly into his scalp, gripping his hair to mirror his hold on you. Futile, you know. The strength in Hoseok is silent, a gift that makes him appear merely pretty until the seat of his power is fully revealed, a fortitude you could never mimic.

You swallow, preparing to speak, and watch the way Hoseok studies the movement of your throat. ‘They would call me a harlot.’ 

His gaze returns to yours, an otherwise thoughtful look turned menacing by the terror of his passion. ‘And are you?’

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you struggle with the few words you can manage. ‘They will make me out to be,’ you begin slowly, poignantly, ‘and it will be your fault. You’ve made me a slut.’

You hold onto the word - draping yourself over the “s”, tapping your tongue against the “t” - ensuring it lingers in your mouth long enough for him to taste it. It’s his fault, really, that you will be judged and scorned and shamed for coming to your new husband wholly impure, the construct of your virginity eradicated by Hoseok’s insatiable appetite. It’s his fault, you think, that you want him this much. That you love him this much. Your tongue caresses the word slut like it's your dearest companion, familiar with its shape and texture, and you lean upward, hoping to put it in his mouth. 

If he is half of your soul, then he should learn how it tastes to be utterly reprehensible. 

But he dodges the trajectory of your desires, moves away from your lips and your face entirely, diving down to your chest where he lets his teeth traverse the expanse of your sternum. Lifting his hand from your pulse, he trades one beat of your blood for another, fisting his hand in the collar of your dress to pull it down and expose the thin bit of flesh covering your heart. It thunders in your ears, your body a storm of his making, and you tremble as he positions himself to ravage your very spirit.

His teeth leave scars upon your nerves, eternal echoes within your pores that have you rolling your hips downward in encouragement. Again, you feel him, his cock against your core, enough to have you whimpering as though you are small and fragile, not the maker of your undoing. As punishment for your impertinence, Hoseok takes aim and bites down harshly at the slender bone of your clavicle. 

‘Hoseok!’ 

‘I know you, Sparrow.’ The husk of his breath is an avalanche into the marrow of your bones, the memory of his teeth still reverberating into your lungs. ‘You always like it when it hurts.’

Your skin still stings, yet he is relentless. You quake in his hold as he bites at the bone once again, teeth inlaid perfectly where they had been before. Your skin bends beneath the force, ecstatic hiss descending into a low moan, giving away the truth of how well he truly knows you. The pain grounds you in the moment, allows you, too, to ignore the passage of time, the ebb and flow of the waves as though the tides have halted altogether. You are prettiest when you are red and purple, black and blue by the marks he leaves in his wake, and not once, not even when he breaks your skin to bleeding does he tarnish your light.

In his arms, you are illuminated, glowing with the same intensity as the lighthouse beacon. He’s called you the heavenly sky for the way you glow under his affections, your inability to control your power when he makes you feel so impossibly good turning you into an evening star. You often forget you are blessed with a holy gift, the goddess of light as though your title has any meaning beyond providing you a seat at the table in Teylim. You often forget this is who you really are, someone happy, someone made of magic - a light kindled only under joy.

‘I will make you ache for me,’ he breathes, pushing the collar of your dress lower and lower, threatening to expose your nipple. ‘I want you alight, burning for me. Only me.’

Hoseok kisses deftly at the supple softness of your breast, diligent and greedy. His breath comes ragged, thick in the center of his lungs where he struggles around the insurmountable longing that puts force in his handling of your body. Working his tongue over the skin, he licks the stars out of the constellations of your pores, tasting the dust, the salt, the sea. Your hands run through his hair, messing the thick strands to a state of perilous disorder in your eagerness to move downward to the comforting solidarity of his shoulders.

Grinding your hips into his lap, the tip of his clothed erection slides along your slit, and you release a whimpered exclamation as the cloth of your underwear slips between your folds. Biting your lip, you breathe deep, Hoseok’s own groan of dissatisfaction vibrates into your chest. You feel him deep in your throat, his voice alongside yours, his desire matching yours in intensity. 

Hand leaving your neck in favor of your waist, his grip tightens, fingertips pressing deep circles into the muscles of your back. Thrusting upward, he teases you, laughing darkly to himself with a rough nip to your breast. The motion sends your underwear deeper into your cunt, a pressure to your clit as erotic as it is cruel. It sends a shiver down your spine, inspiring tremors in your nerves that have you clenching your walls around nothing at all, seeking the bulbous head of his cock in need. 

Pleased with himself, he raises himself from your chest to work at the buttons of your dress. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your own rolling back to present you breasts to him like a preening cat. Hungry, he takes the bait, slipping a palm under your dress to cup your breast. He presses against your nipple, a small wine tumbling from your throat to mingle with his whispered expletive. Rolling your nipple between his knuckle, he regards you momentarily, studying your dazed expression. Against him, you are an earthquake unto yourself, a cosmic shift of longing ravaging your blood, and you are pleased by it, offering him a smile of gluttony. 

Abruptly, he releases your breast, hands falling to your hips as he raises to his knees, keeping you against him. Hoseok pushes your hips roughly against his, cock a threatening force against your core as he guides your bodies down to the floor, careful to keep the shift in position painless. Once more, he thrusts at you, and you feel yourself becoming soaked, juices no longer dripping into your underwear but instead crawling slowly down to your ass. The concrete of the floor is chilled, cold enough your back and hips arch indelicately in retreat, causing you to carelessly meet his thrust. 

‘Fuck,’ he mutters, returning his hands to your front as he sits back on his knees. 

Hoseok avoids the buttons over your breasts, choosing instead to undo the buttons just beneath. Continuing onward, he takes his time unwrapping you, hungry for the pieces of your body he will mark as his. The heart of his lips parts on a silent exclamation, mouth falling open as he unveils more of your ample flesh. The light from your skin mixes with the lighthouse beacon, casting shadows of desire in his eyes, rendering him beastly. With his eyes only, he devours you; your body, the fruit of his immense craving. 

Leaving your breasts covered, Hoseok exposes your hips, your stomach, your thighs. Your hardened nipples strain against the fabric, begging for release the same way your core clenches once again around nothing at all, swallowing more of your underwear in an effort to lure him deep inside you. He meant it this way, all too aware your sensitive nipples will tease you to a point of aching the longer they rub against your dress.

The sea breeze cools your skin, so much of you exposed you feel as though you have been submerged in wind and sky. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you mourn momentarily that it is not Hoseok that covers you, not yet. Still, you enjoy being naked for him like this - naked, vulnerable, safe, and his. You open your legs further, letting the wind kiss at the wetness of your cunt, your answering grin borderline salacious. How glorious to give everything and hide nothing from him. How glorious to let yourself be worshipped, his eyes starved for the pleasure of your sex. All this joy, and yet your frustration runs over, an overflow occurring with little thought. 

‘It’s not fair,’ you whine, raising your arms to reach for him. ‘Let me undress you.’

Sitting up, you press your hands flat against his chest, becoming attuned with the ample hills and valleys of his muscles. Hoseok sits still and proud, lips reddened and wet from kissing you. Your light ignites the flush that dapples the tips of his ears, skin flushed by lust and longing. Throat running dry, you swallow thickly, committing his unrivaled beauty to memory. You refuse to forget a single moment of this, unwilling to relinquish a single detail of him. 

Slowly, you ease the suspenders from his shoulders, humming in approval at the way the loose linen of his shirt relaxes in its newfound freedom, offering you more of his neck and collarbones. As your fingers work earnestly at his buttons, Hoseok takes his time admiring you, a piercing look both penetrative and heartsick. His hand comes to cover yours, unable to help himself, and he holds it tightly, raising it to his lips. His eyes remain locked on yours as he kisses the pads of your fingers, one by one, before slipping your index and middle finger into his mouth. Your lips part on a sigh that fades just as quickly as it came, feeling his tongue swirl over the digits with purpose. 

And much the same way you did not expect his touch, so too are you caught off guard when he moves your fingers from his mouth and guides it down your stomach. Lower and lower, he guides your hand between your bodies where he slips it beneath your underwear. Your breath hitches, skin wet from his saliva and clit throbbing at the prospect of tangible contact, your own hand an ominous presence resting upon your mound.

‘Touch yourself,’ he commands.

Hoseok is so often the picture of tenderness in the way he makes love to you, always gentle and always mired in the totality of his affections. Occasionally, he is sharp and, occasionally, he is in control - only on days when he is starved, only on days when he is completely ravenous. Tonight, there is no room for argument. Tonight, he makes himself an unrelenting devil, unafraid to exert dominance.

‘Eventually we will remember little of how we undress,’ he explains, pressing your fingers over your mound, dangerously close to your clit. ‘Right now, I need to see the way you will touch yourself for me when I’m no longer around. I want to see it. I want to memorize it. Touch yourself for me.’

Removing his hand from yours, he nudges softly at your shoulder, and you obey immediately. Leaning back on your right elbow, you keep your hand in place as he grabs the band of your underwear and pulls it down. Lifting your hips, your tongue licks at your bottom lip where the skin has become dry and chapped, struggling to catch your breath as your desire becomes oppressive. Falling back on your tailbone, you spread your legs wider still, proud and impish as you slide your fingers down your slip, separating your folds to display your core. 

But he sees nothing as he lifts your underwear to his nose, fisting his hands in the fabric and pressing it against his face. Hoseok breathes in deep,eyes rolling back slightly in the effort of keeping his eyes open, a growl rumbling in his chest like a warning. Exhaling into the cloth, he laughs to himself, a high pitched, small sound of amused embarrassment before he falls completely silent once more. And then, he breathes in again, just as deep, just as fervent, lips kissing at the wet patch you have created.

‘I’m keeping these.’ Easing your underwear away from his nose, he crumples the garment and buries it in the pocket of his trousers. Cocking an eyebrow in pleasure, he takes in your exposed cunt, licking his lips. ‘I’ll fuck myself with them, imagining it’s you and your wet pussy.’

‘Pervert,’ you tease, jutting your chin forward in mock derision.

‘Whore.’ Inspired by your nakedness, he begins to undress, gaze heated and focused on your wet cunt. ‘I told you to touch yourself.’

Your fingers easily breach the barrier of your folds upon their release, wet with Hoseok’s spit and your walls slick and dripping with your juices. Years ago, you would have been ashamed of being so soaked, a damp patch expanding in the concrete beneath you in visible proof. But you no longer care, not when Hoseok’s expression of thirst is so incorrigible. 

You fuck yourself with your hand, fighting the urge to tilt your head back in relief - small as it is. In the heat of your lonely nights, you find it tragic your fingers never reach as deep as Hoseok’s slender digits; yours are too slim, knuckles not nearly as rough or pronounced. And when your mind drifts dangerously to thoughts of girth, your eyes drop swiftly to the pronounced shape of Hoseok’s straining cock. Swallowing the weep of appreciation that builds in your chest, your teeth chew at your bottom lip, clinging in anticipation.

Pressing the base of your palm against the hood of your clit, you whimper. Mild and meek as it is, your fingers bring a temporary relief, this satisfaction fleeting, and it will not be long before you are begging him to fill you. 

‘You’re dripping,’ he comments, interrupting your thoughts and removing his shirt in one swift motion. ‘Are you sure you’re not the princess of water? If I kiss your cunt I might drown.’

‘I’m in love with you.’ 

While not truly a detailed explanation, the words carry the weight of your whole chest, erupting with little thought. Your mind offers the only logical explanation for your wetness it can manage while your body grapples with the implication of Hoseok’s mouth upon your core. 

‘Say it again,’ he orders, hands tugging harshly at the zip of his trousers.

A slow smile spreads over your lips, head cocking to the side as you admire his eager expression. ‘I’m in love with you.’

‘Again.’

‘I’m in love with you.’ 

This time, you say it with venom, as though you want it to hurt and hope that it will leave scars in its wake. Hoseok tugs his trousers down his thighs, rising to his knees, appearing regal and godly. Freed from its cloth restraints, his cock springs upward to rest against his stomach, and he smirks, chest and neck flushed as your focus shifts immediately to the purpled bulbous head. 

Without hesitation, you remove yourself from your folds, the ache at your core only minutely grieving the loss of your small hand. Instead, you reach for him, fingers slick with your juices as you grasp the base of his cock with a gentle squeeze. He’s heavy in your hand, rigid in the solid way that makes your walls clench and drip once more, mirroring the way your mouth waters. Slowly, you move your hand up and down the shaft, letting your thumb rub over the leaking tip with care. 

Hoseok’s breath hitches, his hips thrusting slightly into your hand as you pleasure him. His own hands clutch at his discarded clothes, doing his best to exercise his dwindling patience, and you repeat motion, admiring the smoothness of the skin in contrast to the veins of his shaft.

‘I always wonder how you will fit inside me,’ you comment, moving your hand back down and studying the way your fingers do not meet your thumb. ‘You’re so thick.’

He rolls his shoulders back in the aftermath of your praise, inhaling sharply through his teeth. Hoseok is always free with his praises, showering you in worship and stating it is his duty to devote himself to the goddess in his favor. Always, he does this, and always he seeks nothing in return. But you have always sensed, as attuned to him as you are, that praise from you sets his soul afire. One word of praise from you and you are certain he could eat the god of Daeus entirely, rendering him completely human.

‘You were made for me,’ he explains, voice taught and words strained. Unable to hold back, he fucks your fist, seeking relief. ‘You will always stretch to accommodate me, just like your life was meant to. Just like your belly was meant to, stretching with my children.’ His gaze is penetrative, deeply serious for such an obscene state of being. ‘You were meant to take all of me. My true home is inside you.’

Your grip loosens slightly at his admission, lips curling into a small pout. ‘I so desperately wanted to give you a child.’

A choked sound rumbles through his chest, and his hand reaches yours, pulling it from his cock to wind your fingers together. With his free hand, he nudges at your shoulder, easing you back to the ground with a darkness in his eyes that has your throat running dry. Automatically, your legs spread wide, offering him space to settle between them. The tip of his cock rubs carelessly against your slit, and your focus fades, mind emptying with the single desire to have him inside you taking root. 

‘Promise me you won’t give him children,’ he commands, words thick with purpose.

He walks his hand languidly down  your body, grazing over your chest, your covered breasts, to the flat of your stomach. Beneath him, you tremble, the tectonic plates of your spine shifting beneath his touch. Splaying his hand over your stomach, he eyes your skin with parted lips and a furrowed brow. Hoseok wars with himself, his thoughts tangible behind the darkness of his irises, expression swimming with strife.

‘Promise me,’ he repeats. ‘I don’t think I could survive the thought of someone else's baby growing inside you.’ 

Raising your hand from the floor, you card your fingers through his hair while you squeeze your joined hands, determined to win his attention. 

‘I promise,’ is your soft whisper. ‘I shall bear no other child than yours.’ 

Invigorated by your promise, he returns his gaze to yours and maintains it as he works his way down your body with his tongue, kissing everywhere his hands have been. Without warning, he buries his face between your legs to bite gently at your clit, this contact a thunderclap in your spirit. Back arching off the floor, your voice shatters around his name, teeth chewing over the syllables as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Your bones hum with the stimulation, very existence stinging and resonating, while he sucks your clit into his mouth, soothing the pain into a deep, soul burning pleasure. He swirls his tongue around it, mouth greedy and impatient, the fullness of his lips a heaven unrivaled by Teylim, and your hand tightened in his hair, body writhing in passion. 

Hoseok releases your clit with a wet pop before he kisses his way down to your folds, thrusting the flat of his tongue between them, impatient and hungry. Mindlessly, your legs spread wider, small gasps escaping from your chest as your lungs take in the scent of your sex and your hips roll upward, feeling your juices mix ceremoniously with his saliva. Consumed by the sheer power of your need, you feel yourself howl like a moonless wolf, rolling your hips against Hoseok’s face in erratic motions, inspired by the promise of your orgasm.

But Hoseok releases your joined hands, moving it quickly to your hips where he holds you still, growling against your cunt.

‘You shall not wander from me,’ he says, moving his lips against your slit as he presses you into the ground. ‘Keep still and let me feast on you.’

Once more, he thrusts the full length of his tongue between your walls, sucking eagerly at the juices spilling into his open mouth. He’s velvet and silk against your core, sturdy and solid while still gliding against all the places you have needed him most, and your voice careens off the ceiling, loud enough to drown out the ocean waves. Scratching your nails down the soft skin of your thighs, you fight back the desire to thrust against his face, wishing you could fuck his mouth and press yourself against the tip of his nose. All of it, every thrust of his tongue and every roll of your hips you suppress has you moaning, voice high pitched and growing erratic.

The feel of his tongue inside you inspires the deep desire for something larger, something thicker. Your orgasm is a threat in the center of your belly, spine tingling and tightening as each press of his tongue against your walls tames the beast of your racing heart. Hoseok buries himself between your legs with a diligence that borders on hysteria, holding you down and indulging in your

Still, his tongue only just hits the place inside your core that needs him most. You want him hard against your cervix. You want him deep enough to leave bruises on your softest pieces.

Tonight, you want the thick girth of his cock to splinter your bones. Tonight, you want his cock pressed against your cervix, a bruise you will carry for the rest of your life. Tonight, you want his cum so deep inside you it burns.

Tonight, you want him to love you and you want it to hurt. 

‘Hoseok,’ you whimper. ‘Please, I -’

Hoseok thrusts two fingers into your cunt beside his tongue, silencing you with the rough skin of his knuckles spreading your walls even wider. The contrast between his fingers and tongue elevates your hips from the floor with force, disregarding the strength of his hand. You are beastly beneath his ministrations, finding yourself caught in a wild hour and feeling as though you have abstained from him too long. He forces your hips back down with the palm of his hand, groaning against you loudly enough you feel his voice reverberate up to your tongue, and you cry out, distraught. 

Having left the top of your dress buttoned, your nipples strain against the cloth, sensitive and sending electric ripples down your arms, your shoulders - all along your nerves. Another breeze moves through the lighthouse, and it kisses at the sheen of sweat that has broken along your hairline. 

Desperately, you want him. Desperately, you need him. But still it’s not enough. 

‘God,’ you keen, ‘I need to cum.’

Hoseok hums in understanding, the vibration of it moving deep inside you once more. 

‘Oh,’ you whine, so small and so close to breaking. 

Hoseok’s tongue leaves your cunt, only his fingers remaining, and he moves his mouth to your clit where he sucks at the swollen nub deftly. Again, your hand scratches down your thighs, harsh enough to draw blood. Red and angry, the sting of these scores against your flesh makes you smile, a manic and monstrous expression you hope your father, Daeus, and all the gods can see. Frustrated and feeling the coil of your orgasm tighten, your other hand slaps into the ground, gripping at the linen of Hoseok’s shirt. You dig your nails into it, pretending it is him, his skin, his cock, anything substantial to torture him as he tortures you.

Against your cunt, you feel Hoseok begin to laugh, wearing the smirk of the devil as he sucks diligently at your clit.

His name begins in your mouth and dies on an exhale, eyes open wide as you stare up at the ceiling. Vision glazed and vacant, your body trembles as your orgasm lingers dangerously on the precipice of your nerves, skin growing hot and bordering on a point of pain. You hear yourself crying, you feel yourself pressing harder and harder against Hoseok’s eager mouth, and you struggle to discern if the rush in your ears is your blood as it moves swiftly to find him or the ocean that works swiftly to keep your coupling secret. 

And then, without any warning at all, Hoseok once more latches his teeth to your clit.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a wave of heat in your blood and skin, your juice cascading into Hoseok’s waiting mouth. This orgasm is an eruption, a shockwave in your soul that leaves you trembling while his relentless motions of tongue and hand milk you to completion. The tears you have held back begin to spill, soaking your cheeks as you soak his lips, a great wave over you that leaves you breathless.

‘Come up here,’ you gasp. ‘Come up here and kiss me.’

Slowly pulling his lips and fingers from your cunt, you hiss as he eases his way up your body. Using the tip of his tongue, he traces the shape of your parted lips with careful strokes, still messy and dripping with your slick juices. At your core, his cock presses, the contact sending tremors up your spine and causing a whine of pain to splinter in your throat. Granted permission by the sound alone, Hoseok delves his tongue inside your mouth and demands you taste yourself - you, your cum; him, his breath, his spit, his flavor; all of it, mixed together. Your walls clench as you kiss him, devouring him, as your folds seek to lure his cock inside you. 

Gasping against his mouth, you feel his tip press roughly against your core, your walls still sensitive but your body and spirit eager for his fullness. Hoseok pulls away from your lips to whine a low expletive, his resolve shaking and unstable, close to shattering by the force of his desire. His lips part on his sighs, breath slow and shallow, and still shimmering with you. Already, he had devoured you, drunk his fill and yet he still appears starved. As he lingers above you, Hoseok rolls his cock against your walls once more, a challenge, a reminder that he is exhausted by the prospect of not having his fill of you.

Moving your hands to his shoulders, you press your fingers into the soft skin of his back and muscles, letting them wander down and down until you grip the rounded flesh of his ass There, your grip tightens, threatening to push him inside you lest he waste any more time. 

‘Hoseok,’ you breathe. ‘I need you to fuck me.’

‘You want me to fuck you?’ he mumbles, running his tongue over your jaw before biting at your chin. ‘Tell me how badly.’

‘Please,’ you whimper, rolling your hips up against his cock, a warning against the tip. ‘I need you so badly it hurts.’

Wordlessly, Hoseok thrusts himself inside you to the hilt, balls pressing against you with a loud slap. You feel him shake inside you, body shivering with the sudden heat enveloping his cock. Hoseok’s moan is a deluge, an ecstatic exclamation howled victoriously into the juncture of your neck and shoulders, and you smile blankly at the ceiling, mind empty of all things that are not the feel of Hoseok against and inside you. 

His stillness is a tease you cannot endure, and so you clench yourself around him, his teeth biting at your skin as you release and repeat, urging him to move. The feel of his mouth at your skin, the feel of his heaviness pressed so roughly inside you, as your cunt leaking over him, back down into the floor where it coats your ass in its stickiness. Still, you pay little attention to anything other than his immense girth as it stretches you, your walls strained to accommodate him like always. 

Feeling you drip over and under him, he pulls out and thrusts back in, a knock at the door of your cervix and the sudden feel of him so deep as you groaning his name. He challenges you, repeating the motion as your bodies slide back along the floor with the force of his thrusts, the piercing sensation stealing your very breath. You are gasping as you clutch him, breasts moving against the fabric and nipples aching with the sensation, letting him push your body to its limits. 

‘Tell me you love me,’ he grits out, an echo of your earlier promises.

‘I love you,’ you choke, the words incomprehensible. 

‘Say it again,’ he hisses, executing a piercing thrust that has you gasping for breath, nails digging into his skin for purchase.

Squeezing your eyes closed, your hands move to the wings of his shoulder blades and you cling to him, a flightless bird. ‘I love you.’ 

When you hear yourself say it, you realize you are crying, your voice a sob of affirmation around tears of grief. It should be impossible to love someone this much, with the devastating whole of your existence. 

‘Tell me you love me,’ you plead, barely able to speak around the way Hoseok punishes your cervix, a punishment for abandoning him. 

‘I love you.’ Equally affected, his voice warbles over the words. Face buried in the crook of your neck, he presses the words over and over into your pulse. 

‘I love you, I love you.’

Slowing his pace, Hoseok accentuates his proclamations with brutal thrusts against your cervix. Slow as his thrusts may be, they are full of power and force, a pain against your walls and muscles ensuring you will never be free of him. Tears falling freely, your breath is as sharp as his thrusts, a burn in your lungs as you struggle to contain the cosmic feeling of love you hold inside. 

‘I know you like it when it hurts,’ he grits out, thrusts relentless. 

All you can manage is a nod, a moan, the dig of your nails into his skin, the acknowledgement that you would prefer it if he shattered you. You would prefer it if he left nothing behind of you at all.

‘I know you like it when I stretch you, when you can’t walk for days.’ 

‘I do,’ you nod weakly, legs automatically spreading wider - until your hips hurt, until you are certain your bones will bruise from the way you have spread yourself open just for him. 

Hoseok moans as a harmonic response to yours, the sack of his balls slapping diligently at your ass. You cling to him, holding him against you in despair, the vice grip of your hands matched only by the grip of your walls. Pleasure ripples through your synapses, an overload to your very synapses, little else registering in your mind apart from the places Hoseok penetrates within your core.

‘Do you want me to cum inside you?’

The pleading nature of his tone does not go unmissed, his own anguish evident in the way his hand cups your breast and his nails scratch at the flesh, wishing for entry. 

‘Yes.’

‘What if I get you pregnant?’ he muses, though he remains completely sincere. What if I fuck my baby into you? What will they do?’

‘I hope you do.’ It takes all your strength to speak without losing your breath. Once more your orgasm has started to build gloriously around the pain of taking him against your cervix, and you need him to know that you mean it. ‘I don’t care if they scorn me.’

‘I’ll do it,’ he bites out - not a threat, but a promise. ‘I’ll knock you up, fuck my baby into you. They’ll have to watch you grow someone else’s child. What a sight, huh? Bet Daeus would love to see you deliver another man’s baby.’

‘Do it.’

You see yourself, heavy and round with his child, glowing brilliantly like a constellation unto yourself. Carrying your offspring, you would be a supernova, the cradle of the very universe and you would celebrate it with every word breaking over laughter. Daeus would snarl at you, a sneer reserved for your growing belly; your father would find himself in a rage so beautiful and blinding, you think darkness would befall the earth, this winter sudden and unforgiving. The other gods would ignore you, this you are confident of and would take with pride. You’d tease them with it, finding yourself immensely confident in the power of being pregnant with Hoseok’s child. 

You’d carry his child as though this were your real pilgrimage within Teylim, your true purpose. 

And Hoseok, you know, would be your chosen king, god of the sun because he deserves it.

He deserves you. 

‘Yeah?’ he moans, hips picking up pace as he begins to chase his own high. Still, he loses none of the strength in his motions, seemingly motivated by your affirmation of desire.

‘Get me pregnant,’ you plead, biting your lip with shame at this impossible ask. A fool’s errand, a childish plea to change the way of things. ‘Make me stay with you,’ is your final whisper.

Together, you both fall silent as he fucks you with vigor, silent and awestruck by the violence of your coupling. With each thrust, your voices become a symphony of your union. Gripping him tightly, you hope it reaches the gods, your father, all of Teylim. You hope they see the way Hoseok fucks you, absolutely unforgiving. You hope they see the way you make a mess of yourself for him, that you have already decided on a husband and he is no god, no hero, but a man who loves you as though you are the whole of the sky. 

Hoseok trembles against you, and you sense his orgasm approaching in the way he gasps against your skin, thrusting harder and faster and, somehow, harder into your core. You are burning with the ache of containing him, but your own orgasm is cosmic, making its steady approach with each brutal thrust. Hoseok wanted to live inside you, wanted to give you a child, wanted to watch you swell with him alone - and it is these thoughts that send you over the edge, the universe apart from Hoseok melting into a white. In this orgasm, there is no air, no sea, no sky - only Hoseok; his breath, his smile as you cum around him, his ecstatic laughter.

You imagine yourself pregnant, learning to contain a sun inside your womb. You imagine him laughing, hands and lips at your belly. You imagine him happy. You imagine him happy, and your orgasm moves over you with the strength of a lunar tide, the same way your tears move over your cheeks, torn between sobs of bliss and sobs of grief for a life you will not have.

Hoseok continues to thrust into you with purpose, the last of your orgasm leaving you in shockwaves as the motions of his hips overstimulate your walls. It hurts to contain him, not nearly as much as it hurts to leave him, and you dig your nails into his skin, demanding all you can from him with enthusiasm. The world is tilted on its axis as he cums inside you, wave after wave of seed spilling into your core as you stroke tenderly at the hair at the base of his neck. Teeth chattering, you mumble his name, shivering as he spills himself inside you, and you pray, woefully, that he kept his word and left you with a piece of him.

‘Mine,’ he says, stilling inside you as the last of his orgasm quakes his mortal form. 

As his cock begins to soften inside you, the hand at your breast moves gently to the buttons. Your skin burns with the heat of the saliva he dripped against your neck, and he presses his cheek against your neck as he unbuttons the last of your dress. Exposed, now, to the sea breeze, your back arches slightly as the wind and his breath moves over your nipples. His hand cups your breast, too tender for the way he fucked you, and you are certain he is imagining your breasts full of milk, your body heavy, his wish granted, too. 

Pulling his cock free, you both grimace at the feeling, and he removes his hand from your breast to instead smear the cum from your core that leaks from between your walls over your folds. He strokes the tips of his fingers against your slit, the stimulation making you hiss and writhe beneath him in retreat, before you are crying out his name, his fingers dipping inside to scoop his cum from your center. As he pulls his hand free, his studies his fingers carefully, smirking not unlike the devil, before he guides them over your breasts and lets it drip.

And then, without warning, he begins to write his name along your breasts.

‘I am sanctifying you,’ he explains. ‘Anyone who pulls down your clothes will find me. I have already laid claim to your temple.’

Your smile is composed entirely of sadness, a hope that has made a home of despair evident in your expression. Holding his hand in yours, you guide his soaked fingers between the valley of your breasts to your stomach, where you hold him still.

‘With any luck it will be visible here,’ you offer, hoping he cannot hear how remorse has consumed you.

Hoseok frowns. ‘My biggest fear is that you do become pregnant and that I cannot see my baby grow in you. That I won’t be able to raise our family with you.’

Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head to the side in consideration, battling the new found grief that consumes you. ‘Did you not mean it?’

‘I meant every word,’ he promises, moving his hand from your stomach to cup your cheeks. ‘I’d put twins inside you if I had any control. But you are mine, our family is mine. I curse the gods for taking it from me.’ Hoseok falls silent, and you press your cheek into his hand, turning to kiss his mount of venus in encouragement. ‘The day I met you I saw my life with you,’ he continues, so quiet, and so unlike your Hoseok. ‘You are half of my soul.’

Abruptly, Hoseok lifts himself up and pulls away from you. As he rises to a stand, he is still warmed by your touch, the glow from your magic still draped over his muscles, turning him amber and yellow. He’s incandescent, as much as a god of light as you, more regal and more royal than any man who was lucky enough to slay a beast in your name. Running a hand through his hair, he regards you with dark eyes - embers burning in his rises of lust and longing, devotion and despair. He says nothing at all as he moves, naked and vulnerable, to the back corner of the room where he gathers his tools. 

‘What are you doing?’ you hum. Reaching your hand out, you curl onto your side, writhing in the pillow of your discarded clothes, beckoning him back to you. ‘Come back to me. It’s cold without you.’

He says nothing at all as he roots around, pulling out a thick screwdriver and hammer. 

‘He will give you rings,’ he says, more to himself than to you. 

The words come softly, barely a whisper that cuts through the air. Settling in front of the fog bell on his knees, he begins to hammer the end of the screwdriver into the metal, carving and carving. 

‘He will give you flowers,’ he grits out bitterly, ‘and will see your smiles in the morning. He will bring you food and nectar, and he will watch you glow your brightest. He will watch you glow each time you remember my hands on you, my lips on you. In bed, he will watch you glow, thinking it’s him, letting his own ego grow so immense he will get off on his own power rather than you. But he won’t know, not like I do. Not like we do.’

Sitting up, you don’t bother to cover your naked body, the breeze from the sea cooling your dampened skin. Licking your lips, you watch as his muscles strain with his pound of the hammer. Brow narrowed, jaw set, and hands gripping his tools with confidence, he marks the metal with a certainty born from a man learning to combat loneliness. 

‘He won’t know,’ he continues, words a grunt of demand and dominion. ‘No one will know that each time he touches you, you are comparing him to me. You will be remembering me. I want you to remember me. I want you to think of me, I want you to look for the light from this beacon, and I want you to outshine the anguish. I am destined to look for you the way so many people look for the North Star. My every storm is guided by you. So don’t you dare forget.’

The fog light spins overhead, clouds passing by and changing the refraction just enough to see the shimmer against his cheeks. Hoseok weeps as he carves, jaw unflinching, and hands steady with determination. A lump rises in the center of your throat, chest tight with the pain that comes from loving someone too much, entirely too much. Gasping for air, you move towards him, wanting his body pressed tightly against yours in comfort.

On instinct, you give him light - more light, so much light. From beneath your skin, you become torchlight, neon, candle flame; wrapping yourself around his back and shoulders, you rest your head on his shoulder and cling to him, becoming sunlight and firewood, banishing the darkness from his mind and mouth, a lamp unto his feet to lead him home. Pressing your lips at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you feel him tremble beneath you, mindlessly leaning into you for more, endlessly more. 

As you turn to watch his hands, your own tears soak the corner of your eyes.

‘Hoseok,’ you breathe, regarding his craftsmanship.

‘He can’t give you light like I can,’ he murmurs, suddenly so small and so young, weakened suddenly by the ever looming distance between you. ‘He can give you all the falsehoods of husbandry, but he can’t give you light. He can’t give it back. He is not your equal like I am.’ 

Beneath the careful, diligent work of his hammer and screw, your name begins to take shape, just beneath his. The markings are deep, thick scratches unlikely to erode in any substantial length of time. Wind and sea will not wipe your names away, nor snow nor sand. Not even heaven, you think, could cause your names to smear. 

When he finishes, the bronze bell glimmers beneath your light, your names encased in a heart he artfully crafted. You imagine it in a wedding band - silver, and not gold. Gold, you think, is too soft and too malleable. The gods prefer it, a sign of eternal wealth and glory, but gold bends. Gold is too impermanent, value placed in all the wrong places. You would give Hoseok platinum, would give him silver, would give him bronze. If you had the power to move the earth, you would give him iron and steel, anything equally as enduring as the way you will be immortalized in ardor. 

‘I can’t believe this is all I will have of you.’ Hoseok stares at your names, at the jagged lines he carved into the bell, mourning. Shoulders slumped and hands folded neatly in his lap, he laments quietly to himself as though in prayer. ‘At the end of all this, this is all I have. Your name and a memory.’

Raising your hand to his chin, you turn his face to yours, biting your lip as he cries freely, tears staining the softness of his cheeks with salt. 

‘No one will have me, not like you.’ ‘He can take me, he can take my light, he can take my name, but he will never have my heart. All of me belongs to you. I am yours. Swear to me that you are mine.’

The hammer and screwdriver fall to the ground at his knees, a loud clank so disruptive for the quiet paradise you have built at the top of the lighthouse. Enveloping you in his arms, he buries his face in your neck, lips at the center of your throat - a place he has been so often this night you are determined to call it his home - tugging your hair back to make space for him. 

‘I’m yours,’ he swears passionately. ‘Not a single person will have me the way I’ve given myself to you. In a thousand summers, not a single one will pass in which I’m not yours.’

The conviction in his words undoes you, your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling, at the base of the light, feeling as though there is no difference between the moon and the sun, not anymore. For you, they are interchangeable, each burning in an hour of love; which is to say, there will be no hour that passes in which you do not love him, no hour passing in which your light does not belong to him and his does not belong to you. 

‘I wish I could stay like this.’ These affectionate speeches tumble from your lips, your mind empty of misgivings, wishing to be as honest as you are naked. ‘I wish I could stay this way, forever touching you.’

‘Time is meaningless,’ he muses, detached and distant, even as you hold him. ‘For me, this is the end of my life. There will be nothing else after this. For me, it will always be this way. My arms will always be around you.’

For him, you are glad. For him, you are relieved that there shall be no other moment than this. 

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

The seaside feels like the edge of destruction after so long away from it, gravity pressing at your bones. From where you stand, the unchanging nature of the earth makes a mockery of your nerves, the past beating against your sternum like a second heart.

You are poised and still, relearning the way the earth is unforgiving compared to the heavens. Too long have you been removed from such a tangible feeling of living, such a tangible reminder that you, too, are made of flesh and blood and all the things that break so easily, just like ocean foam. Your toes bury themselves into the rocky shore, rooting yourself like a tether as a promise that you will not run away, that you will not leave - not again. As though it senses your presence, the sea rages beneath a cloudless sky, the sun’s rays reflecting off the water, illuminated without any need of you.

The lighthouse looms along the hilltop, and you worry your bottom lip as you study its eternal guardianship. All these unchangeable things, loyal without you, and yet you stand here, begging for acceptance. You can hear Hoseok’s words like an echo, words not yet spoken but you anticipate them, the lump in your throat sinister in its tenacity. 

How dare you, he will shout, and the tears on his cheeks will be your parting gift. How dare you haunt me here when I did not expect you, when I had already worked so hard to give you up. 

Promises in the dead of night are easy to make when the daylight has yet to take anything from you. The earth remains unchanged but you are evidence of the passage of time, and you are certain Hoseok will have warred with himself so completely your memory of him is little more than a ghost of a man who died the moment he woke to find you missing. 

He used to be able to sense you here. Back when things were new and things were simple, back even at the end, he would sense your presence along the water and come running, a smile already at his cheeks in welcome. Stroking your naked hip with the tips of his fingers, he told you all about his skin would tingle when you were close, a static on his tongue that told him something too important to be contained by the earth was waiting for him. Even before he knew you, before he knew it was you, he felt it, as though he had been made just to know you, to find you. 

It used to be the same for you, a pull to the shore and a lightness of being that always made you stand here, in this place, waiting. Weeks passed before either of you had any idea you were near one another, before you’d even introduced yourself, and now it is the same. Your body combats the change in gravity with strength, though you realize too much has changed in you for the weight to feel the same. 

The hair at the back of your neck stands on end, rising in anticipation as the air becomes thick and heavy. You feel him approaching, a magnetic pull against your back that has your posture shifting, pulling you to your full height regardless how heavy all of you feels. Still, he doesn’t close the distance, and your lips part around a sigh, silently asking him to reach for you, to touch you.

But he won’t.

Not when he thinks you are the same as you were. Not when he thinks this is all just a memory.

Closing your eyes, you turn to face him, feeling tears burn against the lids. Hoseok makes no movement towards you, and, unable to hold back any longer, you open your eyes once more, weeping at the sight of him. Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you study the way he looks at you, the way his gaze traverses your form with a pained expression, the knot in his brow visible even from a distance. He’s far from you, far enough you cannot touch him, but he, too, remains unchanged - still beautiful, still glorious, still the sun king himself, and you choke back a bitter cry at the way it seems only you are the one who was allowed to change.

‘Hello,’ you try, offering a weak and unsteady smile.

Hoseok says nothing as he closes the distance, eyes trained at your middle, focused enough you feel him move inside you. He lets himself get close, close enough your skin calls out to his eagerly, begging him to touch you. You can smell him on the wind, the same musk, the same ambergris, the same dust that you remember, and your hands twitch at your sides, straining to reach out to him. 

‘What is this?’ he manages, not looking you in the face.

‘I -’ A small cry cuts you off, and you press your hand to your lips, forcing yourself to keep your composure. 

Hearing the anguish in your voice, he raises his gaze to yours and you see the way he mirrors your pain, confused and bewildered. 

‘Tell me what this is,’ he whispers, fierce and demanding. 

‘It’s exactly how it looks,’ you explain, feeling terribly pathetic.

It’s so simple, you know. Absolutely obvious. Your pregnant belly sticks out far enough now it leaves a distance between you, a gap where your child grows the only thing that separates you. 

‘Did you come here to mock me?’ he spits, leaning forward with venom.

‘No!’ you exclaim, holding your hand up in surrender. ‘I…’ you drift off, uncertain where to begin. You decide, perhaps, it’s best to begin with the truth. ‘The baby is yours.’ 

Hoseok’s expression shatters, a thousand different feelings breaking over his face before he settles on disbelief and quiet rage.

‘Why would you show me this?’ he pleads, sounding so small. ‘Have I not suffered enough? You knew I wished for this and now you tease me with it?’

‘I’m not here to show you anything, Hoseok, and certainly not to cause you pain.’ It’s shocking how tired you are becoming, putting in the effort of not reaching for him, not weeping for him, not rushing to an end you both deserve. ‘They...rejected me,’ is all you manage in the end.

Hoseok sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes watering as he lowers his focus to your belly once more. ‘They stopped the wedding?’

He speaks so softly you almost do not hear him over the rolling tide, and now, you cannot be contained. In one swift motion, you reach for his hand twining your fingers together. Your hold on him is unrelenting, not allowing him a single escape. Feeling his palm against yours is all the motivation you need, a resurgence of energy you have been missing for months.

When you continue to remain silent, he narrows his brow and persists. ‘Are you unmarried?’

‘They were going to go through with,’ you explain quickly, not allowing him any room for interjection. ‘They were going to make me marry him. Daeus even said he’d give the child to a human family, make it go through a Hero’s Journey to join us back in Teylim. Gods, the fight I put up to stop that from happening. The Fate Tying went poorly,’ you finish with a sardonic grin.

Gently, you tug Hoseok against you, forcing his stomach to bump against yours. His heated breath cascades over your skin, and you sigh in pleasure.

‘The child is completely human, my love,’ you whisper, eyes searching his face. ‘The Moirai refused to untie us.’ Incredulous, you laugh, looking out over the grassy hill in wonder. ‘The old crones are always right.’

The weight of your explanation steals Hoseok’s breath, and he falls against you, clinging to you as he sobs into your shoulder. Holding him close, you remember the last time you were in this position, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, your hands clutching him, unwilling to be removed. As though sensing the great wave of his emotion, the child in your belly stirs abruptly, pressing against your womb to get his attention. 

You jump slightly at the feel of it, and Hoseok looks down, laughing, incandescent in his joy. He brings his hand to your belly, touching softly at where your child had just been, and he sniffles, looking to you and back down, cheeks reflecting the light you suddenly cannot contain. 

‘It’s a girl,’ you state, always wondering how he would react to knowing he’d have a daughter. ‘Our daughter kept me with you.’

Falling to his knees, he holds your belly in his hands and presses his forehead against its peak, too overcome with emotion to utter a word. Instead, he simply breathes deeply, wrought with bliss. Lowering a hand to the crown of his head, you thread your fingers through your hair and think that this, this precise moment, is what it means to be a goddess.

This is what it means to truly be sanctified.

[toiletwipes]

rewatching the wilbur roblox stream and at one point he says "i love edging"... can we get edging with faebur -dolly

oh god y e s. yes we can.

You had invited him into your cottage, making sure no visitors would be coming today and with all of your chores done and dinner settling in your belly, you found yourself tucked away into his arms, sitting on his lap and breathing him deep. He'd gotten curious and fucked around in your clawfoot tub, testing your soaps and salts. And now he smells heavenly, not that he hadn't before but there's something that unhinges inside of you when he smells just like you. As if he was yours.

If something like that ever happened, it would be... absolutely wonderful. Though, due to Wilbur's nature, you don't know if telling him these desires would be wise. He's already clinging to you as it is, hands reaching from around your waist to come up and grip your shoulders, pulling you into him with every second that slips by.

And then you're shifting, moving your legs around and when you do, your bottom grazes against his crotch, and his mouth gapes open, drawing in a sharp gasp. You instinctively pull back, going to ask if he's alright when his hands move from your shoulders and down to your hips, thrusting his own upwards to meet yours.

It's dizzying how fast the room heats up, how hot you get so fast. You gasp and whine into an impassioned kiss, lips pressed clumsily against lips, hands ghosting over your barely clothed skin, coming up to grope at your chest. Back arching and eyes closing, you don't see him immediately dart to your neck, only feeling his mouth on your skin and the slightly sharp canines of this man biting at your neck.

Rolling your nubs in between his fingers and drinking in the noises you made for him, only for him, he moves on, hands drifting downwards to reach under your skirt and find you dripping.

"Desperate thing, aren't you?" He murmurs into your skin, and with a flick of his wrist, begins to work you up, bucking into his hand and chase after a high that never felt this- this good. "Would've let any strange man into your house and take advantage of you, huh, that much of a whore you let something so dangerous in and touch you like this?"

His words burned something inside of you, leaving you grasping onto his shirt in clenched fists, gasping as you were so close, so close to tipping over and- and-

And you cry, his hand coming up and away from your twitching and sticks two wet fingers into your mouth, pressing on your tongue and watching the tiniest of tears fall down your cheeks. "You look so pretty like this," he says as he licks your tears away, groaning as you sucked your slick off of his fingers, "I hope you're not fragile like most humans, I'd hate to break you so soon."

With that, he takes his fingers back, pulling down your skirt down and removing entirely, watching as you toss it with earnest and settle back down into his lap, shaking thighs and all.

He wastes no time at all, guiding you back to that white burning in your stomach, leaving you crying every time, and every time you are denied that sweet bliss, and every time, he makes you clean his fingers off.

"So obedient, have I broken you already, my sweet pet?" He calls to you, bringing a hand to cup the back of your head, finding your eyes unfocused as it was being overwhelmed with tears again.

"You're so mean, I've behaved myself every time around you-" and he cuts you off, sticking his fingers back into your mouth.

"I've been kind in keeping you alive in all of your ventures, have I not? Have you forgotten the many storms you got caught in, the many creatures you've met and left with your life? All me. If anything, you haven't earned my kindness one bit. But you're getting there. Be good for me once more, then you can come." His words leave your head spinning but you try your hardest to hold your own, clenching your jaw and letting the tears fall once more.

This time, he overwhelms you, he moves his hand faster, latches his mouth onto your collarbone, and your hands come up to his hair, burying themselves to the roots, and you cry out, hands stilling as your body shakes with the orgasm, holding you close to his body as you came down from your high.

He coos at you, wiping his hands on the ground and cradling your head when you fell limp in his arms. "Oh look at this mess you've made, I have broken you indeed. Here, let me take care of you," he doesn't waste a moment, shifting you into a bridal hold and takes you to your bed, cleaning you off and taking the rest of your clothes off.

As you come to, you feel a kiss on your forehead before you open your eyes. There's nobody there and you feel all warm inside. Fuzzy, even.

Would this happen again? You turn in your comforter, looking outside the window by your bed, there's a nightingale on a tree branch. You have such a fuzzy mind, you don't hesitate waving at the bird. Its' head tilts and you smile.

Wilbur plays such a funny bird.

[neopuppy]

Dive Into You: Part 2. (M)

Preview: “You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. You should be thanking me nono.”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck

Warning: daddy issues, sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, virgin reader, corruption, bible quotes

Smut Warning: oral(F receiving), slight sensory deprivation, fingering, all in church.

Intro—>

Part 1–>

“I told the new family in town that you’d be showing their daughter around boys. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” Pastor Lee slaps a hand over Jeno’s shoulder with a firm grip. “No funny business.”

“You got it, father. You know, like because you’re a pastor.” Haechan snorts, pouring hot steaming coffee into a ceramic mug.

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious. Make sure your brother acts right. People around town are already talking enough about my atrocious parenting skills. Word travels fast in these small towns you know.” Pastor Lee adjusts his tie in the mirror. Stepping out of the front door with not even a wave goodbye. Jeno left rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

“What time do you want to head out?” He questions, eyes burning into Haechans back.

“Oh, I can’t do that ‘show the new townies’ around thing today. Got a brunch date in the next town over with someones mom.” Haechan turns, leaned back along the kitchen counter blowing steam from his coffee.

“What?? She’s your girlfriend now. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with her tonight?” Jeno’s eyes widen befuddled. More in disbelief his brother would be two timing you, familiar with his antics.

“Your point?” Haechan scoffs, checking messages through his phone. Petty smirk on his lips sending you a ‘miss you’ text.

“You’re a dog. You’re not seriously just fucking with her to get back at me are you? It’s not like everyones talking about you being dads problem child here.” Jeno’s arms fold over his chest. Bicep muscles straining under tight sleeves.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? I’m allowing you to spend alone time with your church girl. Should be thanking me nono.”

“Dick..” Jeno mutters, grabbing his bag to head out. Not wanting to spend another minute around his brother.

“Wait a minute..” Haechan grabs a hold on Jeno’s arm, pulling him back into the kitchen. “Take good care of my girl today yea?” Jeno’s eyes squint as his brother sneaks a $20 bill into his side jacket pocket.

“Maybe get her a milk shake or something. Whatever it is you kids drink. We’re not really going on a date tonight if you know what I mean.” Haechans eyes shift around mischievously. Knowing damn well Jeno knows. Knowing exactly what to say to get under his skin.

Jeno grips at Haechans collar, huffing against his face. Anger seething through fingertips aching to bring his brother physical pain. Jaw tightening, resisting the deep urge inside building for years everyday.

“Gonna give me a black eye nono? What will father think when he finds out his bad seed is also abusive?” Lips curling with a slick grin. Haechan the expert on how to push Jeno’s buttons. Worked on himself well to get exactly what he wants.

“That’s what you want isn’t it?” Jeno clenches the fabric between his fist, arms shaking with rage. “You’re the perfect one, I’m the fuck up. You’re the one dad brags about, I’m the one he pretends doesn’t exist.”

“You think your daddy issues would get your little church girl turned on? Should I tell her how you cry yourself to sleep wishing you were me?” Haechan snorts, loosening from of Jeno’s grip. Hands smoothing out his freshly ironed shirt.

“I’ve never wanted to be anything like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“That’s not true nono..” Haechan pulls on a jacket. Fingers twirling around keys. “You know how much I love my car” with a cocky wink matching a shit eating grin Haechan heads out. Leaving Jeno festering in his anger. Fists slamming against the counter. Back tense with underlying hatred, hatred for himself. Tired of how easily Haechan manages to provoke him.

——————————————————————————

Jeno’s nervous, pissed off, feeling anxious. Pacing back and forth in front of your house. He didn’t have much of a choice with the looming threat of getting shipped back off to Jesus camp hovering his mind. The idea to ditch this whole ordeal passing his thoughts more than once. It’s not that he liked you, but it’s also not necessarily that he didn’t like you. Convincing himself he just hasn’t gotten any for too long now. Dick probably desperate for anything at this point. Nothing related to how cute you looked with your lips all swollen after kissing him. Jacking off at home that night reliving the events long forgotten.

Forget about stroking himself off in the shower the next morning again. Or the other five more times since. No he didn’t like you, not really..

“Aren’t you one of Pastor Lee’s sons??” And older woman carrying bags of groceries approaches. Lipstick covering her two front teeth, over sized dress hanging from her body.

“Oh uh.. yes I am. I’m supposed to.. show your.. daughter? Around today..” Jeno stutters out, mentally slapping himself.

“Oh..” the woman adjusts a bag in her hold, throat clearing. “What about that lovely brother of yours? What’s his name again?”

“Haechan..” Jeno’s eyes shift, looking away. How did his brother manage to convince everyone he was such an angel. A modern day fallen angel, roaming earth in disguise.

“Ah that’s it..” she makes a sound of disapproval, bag dropping on the porch. “A polite young boy would have offered assistance.” Voice lowly whispering as she unlocks the front door. Jeno’s eyes darting between the groceries and woman, cursing himself yet again for coming off exactly how everyone says.

“I’ll call her down.” She steps inside. Loud shouting vocals calling out your name. The sound of foot steps against stairs following. Your figure appearing, dressed up to impress. Jeno’s throat itching, swallowing, adjusting his collar.

“That’s not your bike- is it?!” Your mothers shrieking voice questions. Eyes bulging out, taking in the sleek black motorcycle off the sidewalk.

“I’m here!” Your smile falls, only spotting one brother waiting for you outside. Not the one you’d expect even. You subtly give a look around, searching for someone else maybe hiding in surprise. Jeno unfortunately does not fail to notice.

“That is my bike Ma’m.. it’s safe. I promise.” He holds up two helmets. Craving to crawl into a hole under your moms scrutinizing gaze.

“I’m not so sure about this..” she mumbles. Eyes glaring into Jeno, trying to put the fear of God...fear of a strict crazy mother, in him.

“It’ll be fine mom! He has a helmet! I’ve been on a motorcycle with dad before!” You lean up, pecking your mothers cheek. Summer dress twirling up with air as you run forward. Jeno catching a glimpse of your underwear. Shifting a helmet over his groin momentarily.

“I thought Haechan was coming too?” You asks, taking the helmet held out for you. Typically being his brothers helmet, little did you know.

“He’s busy.. errands out of town or something.” Jeno mumbles, avoiding your eyes. He’s being weird, but then again you didn’t know him well enough to confirm he wasn’t always this way.

“Oh.. well I guess I’ll see him later anyway.” You frown, tugging at the light fabric of your dress. What a waste. “You ride a motorcycle?”

“Yea.. I don’t have a car so.. you’ve been on one before you said?” Jeno’s brows furrow. Eyes trained on your feet, teeth digging into his lower lip. You had to wear cute strappy sandals with a summer dress. That just made sense, to show off your cute freshly painted toes..Jeno’s brain feels like its turning in his skull. Lips begging for mercy to let out a scream.

“I actually haven’t. Just said that to make my mom shut up.” You lean in close. Lips grazing his earlobe as you whisper. Words muffled, Jeno blinking slowly. Perfume wafting around his head, as if this could get any worse.

“Uh..” Jeno steps away abruptly. “Put that on!” His voice awkwardly shouts to you, chin jerking toward the helmet in your hands. Head shaking, pulling on his own. Straddling around the bike seat, engine coming to life.

“Am I supposed to hold on to you?” You stand to Jeno’s side. Admiring the shining black bike, fitting for his character. At least physically.

“I..” Jeno’s breath catches under his helmet shield. Only now realizing you’ll be riding with him around today. Legs parted on him.. arms squeezing his abdomen.

“Jeno??..” you pull on your helmet with confusion. He wasn’t much for words it seemed. So opposite of his brother.

“Uh.. yea.. just hold on to me..” he sighs to himself. Sounding more displeased than intended. Uncomfortable awkwardness travels through you watching his shoulders slump. With reluctance, you lift your leg. Straddling Jeno’s back, bad day to wear a short dress..

“This is kind of..” your lips purse together, center a little too close to Jeno’s body. More than close, right on him. Cotton airy smell coming off his black jean jacket. Scent fresh and clean, hair lingering of lightly scented shampoo. His broad shoulders covering majority of your view.

“You should.. hold on tight.” Jeno licks his cracking lips. Foot kicking up the bikes lock. With another look toward your mom motioning the sign of the cross. You lean your body forward, chest pressed up on Jeno’s wide back. Arms circling around his small waist.

Jeno’s own thoughts rolling in like rapid fire. Throat squeezing in, heat between your bodies pressed together moving between his legs. Trying to focus on anything, anything but your breasts pressing into him. Anything besides your smooth thighs around him. The memory of kissing you too vividly choosing to repeat itself.

“God be with you!” Your mothers voice screams out. Bike engine too loud as Jeno rides off. Your dress blowing behind you, smile covering your face. Chin on his shoulder, admiring the view of your new home.

Could only be an even more perfect moment if it was Haechan you were wrapped around..

——————————————————————————

“That’s it? A diner? That’s the tour of the town?” You twirl around the cherry sat atop melting whipped cream. Chocolate shake looking unblended and less than appetizing.

“There really isn’t much to do here..” Jeno mumbles, chin tucked into his chest. Basket of half eaten fries more interesting than you apparently.

“I could have told you that..” you murmur in response. Sitting back in the booth with boredom. Jeno does the same, brows furrowing in thought. A minute or five of silence passing. He grunts lowly, pulling his phone out.

“Look at you two!” Mark jogs over sporting a huge smile stretched across his cheeks. Red and white striped apron covering what looks like an all white uniform.

“You work here?!” You sit up, eyeing the uniform. Almost too fitting, a too old altar boy working part time at a cheap fifties diner.

“Well of course, phone bills don’t pay themselves! Timothy 6:10 For the love of money, is the root of all kinds of evil!” Mark proclaims, finger waggling about like a mad man. Your lips pulling back over your teeth in...displeasure.

“Right..”

“Fucking shit” Jeno groans, kicking at a foot under the table. Tsking as thumbs slam down at his phone screen.

“Ah Jeno! Proverbs 21:23! Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble!” Mark places hands on his hips. Lips pursed together with disappointment.

“Yea..sorry Jesus. Whatever.” Jeno mumbles again, eyes not moving from his phone.

“Gamers right” Mark shakes his head your way. Eyes lighting up, taking your own phone out.

“What do you play??” you scoot in closer to Jeno. Closing the space between the two of you in the booth. His shoulders stiffen, curling in hunched over the table.

“Kartrider..” Jeno barely whispers. Catching enough of it, familiar with the game.

“I play too! Oh! I bet I have a better rank than you!” Laughing unlocking your phone, swiping the game open. “Look at my character, she’s so cute!”

“There’s no way you’re better than me....I’m always top ranking in this county..” Jeno’s eyes widen. Forgetting about his current race, watching you hold up your phone with laughter.

“Come on, let’s race. I’m gonna kick your ass!” You lean in closer, reading out Jeno’s ID as you enter it in. “Add me!”

“Language!” Mark sighs, head shaking with both of you. “God’s children have truly fallen. After everything the lord has done for us.”

“Come on Jeno! Play me! I’ll go easy on you” nudging at his side with a wink. Your smile grows, finally something you can do together. Jeno dragging you around downtown past rusty antique shops. The only thing that caught your interest a quant little family owned bookstore. Learning fast he wasn’t much for conversation. Face appearing pained and uninterested with every word from you.

“Don’t feel like playing anymore..” Jeno shuts his phone, screen turning black.

“What?! Aw come on. Can’t stand the thought of a girl beating you?” Jeno leans back, eyes taking in your face slowly. All he cared about was winning, competing in stupid games just to achieve a high ranking. You’d win of course, he’d never let you lose.

“Just don’t feel like playing anymore.”

——————————————————————————-

“Thanks for showing me around, the one street you took me to.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. Hopping off the back of Jeno’s bike. He removes his own helmet, hair flopping around messily. “Was fun I guess.”

“Yea well” Jeno holds out his hand for the helmet you borrowed. You hold it under your arm, brow quirking in confusion. Your hand slowly lifting, placing in his. Jeno’s eyes widen, staring at your hands held together. Too many feelings rushing at him all at once.

“Helmet!” Jeno shouts abruptly, hand flying away from yours like you’re too disgusting to touch.

“Geeze, fine. Sorry...” you place the helmet on the back end of Jeno’s bike. Turning away, without even a goodbye. He grabs your elbow, your foot stopping mid-air.

“You..” head turning, staring down where he holds you.

“Yes?” You implore him to continue. Jeno’s hand dropping from you when you fully turn to face him again.

“You.. you really like my brother..?” Jeno’s eyes fall to the ground. Thick dark eyelashes shadowing across his cheeks.

“Yea of course. Is that what this is about Jeno? I really do like him, I would never use someone.” You smile, bouncing back on your heels. Jeno’s lips suck in with frustration.

“Wish I could say the same about him.” Jeno mumbles, turning his engine back on.

“What was that?” Voice raising, trying to speak above the loud roar from the motorcycle. Jeno flicks down his helmet shield, speeding off. Cloud of dust surrounding you. Smacking at the air coughing out, bike disappearing behind dusts.

“Fucking jerk.”

—————————————————————————-

“Haechan! Where are we going? The church?!” Your shoes lift up dust. Arm in his hold pulling you toward the small old building.

“Where else would we go baby? Can’t go to my place, the holy spirit’s home.” Haechan laughs, pulling a lanyard from his back pocket. “Besides, this is my dads church you know right? It’s like my property too, we’re safe here under God’s watchful eye.”

“Isn’t this.. I don’t know. Sacrilegious?!” You anxiously follow him inside. Haechans easy smile comforting you, arms wrapping around your waist. He steps back down the center aisle. Pews displayed at your sides, Haechan leading you one in front. He pulls you to the center of the pew, sitting with hands on your hips.

“This feels..” you start, chest rising and falling faster as guilt passes through you.

“Wrong? God didn’t make us this way..” his hand smooths down your bare thigh. Passing the fresh new dress just for your date tonight. Fingers skirting between your thighs, one playing at a side covering your mound. “..for us to not touch and explore..”

“It’s just..” your hands grip at the front of the pew behind you. Where you’d normally kneel to pray..

“Just?..” Haechans eyes gaze up at you. Pure sin and danger hidden in the face of an angel. Tongue sliding up your other thigh. “You’re so sweet.”

You sigh in defeat, legs quivering, upper body doing the work to hold you up. His head dipping under your dress, nose pressing into your slit. Cotton from your panties shoving between you. Soft moans sounding from underneath, Haechans tongue licking at your underwear. Enough to properly soak them up, allowing drool to freely fall from his mouth. You gnaw at your lip, gathering up your dress fabric in one hand. Admiring the way the beautiful boy between your legs eats you up.

Haechan lets out a dreamy sigh. Long fingers stroking up and down your thighs. Teeth biting your at core with cloth between. Your stomach folds in, curling closer to where he sits below you. Fingers wrapping around the sides of your panties, tongue lapping at your inner thighs.

“Body of a virgin can heal more sins than body of christ you know..” underwear at your knees. Haechan leans back in, lips wrapping around your clit. Tongue swirling around, suctioning between. Your other hand lifting to your mouth, biting down on your thumb. Muffled moans and whines echoing around the church walls.

Haechans eyes stay on your face, tongue rolling your clit around. Hands squeezing your inner thighs, pulling back, clapping down slaps. Your hips jolting forward with suppressed cries. Everything about him was absolutely depraved. Looks deceiving from the boy your mother had always warned you about.

“Don’t hide your pretty sounds baby.” Haechan pulls away. Lips shining, coated in your wetness. Glares from the colored glass reflecting off his skin. Red tinted eyes sparkling up at you. Haechan reaches for your wrist, yanking your hand out from your mouth. His lips part open, tongue swirling around your entrance. Sucking up the wetness gathering around.

“Oh God!” You shout out, neck loosely dropping back. Tears on the brink of escaping the corners of your eyes.

“That’s it baby. You pray to me now.” Haechan groans, mouth closing over your entire mound. Eyes rolling back into his head, swiping up and down your core. Hands finding his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. Haechans tongue thrusts into your tight entrance, muscle working extra hard to enter.

“Oh my God!” Body shaking, ass digging into the pew. Hips twitching forward, grinding against Haechans face. Chin covered in your wetness, tongue wiggling inside you. Fingers finding way to your clit, pinching and rolling the bud. “Oh my God!!”

Haechan groans inside you, scalp in pain from your pulling. Cock hardening in his jeans, taste of innocence in his mouth nearly orgasmic. You taste too fucking good, nothing like that used up whore from earlier..

“I-I c-can’t!” Haechans fingers work at your clit. Rapidly sweeping back and forth. Tongue sliding out, jaw hung open. Eyes return to your face, smile breaking out over his cheeks.

“You can.” He pants, tongue hung out lazily lapping at your hole. Clit pinched between two fingers, massaging every little nerve. “Cum on my tongue.”

Your head drops forward, tear slipping free. Haechans raspy tone saying those words driving you past your limit. Ass lifted off the pew, core convulsing. Haechans tongue placed against your fluttering entrance. Catching all of your release. You weakly fall forward again, forehead resting on top of his messed up hair.

“So good.” Haechan moans words out, licking clean the wetness seeping from you. Neck lifting, hands cupping your cheeks. “Taste.”

Tongue pushing between your parted lips, trying to catch your breath. Haechan laps at your tongue, realization hitting you in seconds what he’s making you do. Tasting yourself between your lips. His tongue covering every corner inside your mouth. Haechans hands return to your hips, pulling you off the front of the pew to straddle his lap.

“You want it?” His hand digs into the back of your hair. Jean clad dick shoving between your thighs at your heated core. Weakly nodding, eyes half open lazily pecking pouty lips. Haechan lays back down flat across the pew. Warm hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. “Come here.”

Your head nods, under his command. Mind controlled by whatever he’s saying, telling you ‘I want it- no matter what it is.’ If it’s from Haechan- give it to me, now. You lay down on his chest, kisses continuing. Hands squeezing around your ass, pulling up your dress. Hands flying down hard with mean slaps. Fingers gliding down finding way between your legs again. Skimming up and down your slit from the back. Soft moans passing between your swollen lips.

Body tensing, sounds of the large entrance doors opening up with a slam. Haechans eyes open up staring into yours, brows lifted. His lips purse out with a silent ‘shhh’, earning a rapid head shake from you. Familiar smirk pulling at his lips, free hand clamping over your mouth. Your eyes widen, lips pressing into the palm of Haechans hand. Fingertips circling around your needy entrance. Panic rushing through you as loud foot steps approach closer and closer.

Your forehead shoved up against Haechans. Mouth closed off, silent whimpers falling out behind his hand. Finger sliding inside you, his lit up eyes watching your expressive eyes react. The fear and curiosity alone could make him cum.

“Are you kidding me!” A flash light shines over your faces. Mark standing at the end of the pew in disgust. Your head lifts quickly, ripping Haechans hand off your mouth. Cheeks heating up absolutely mortified. Moving fast, adjusting your dress to cover up. Haechan stays laid down, eyes fluttering shut with irritation.

“Fucking cock block.” He whispers to himself, sitting up. Tent in his jeans extremely evident.

“I knew you stole my keys again Haechan!” Mark clicks the flash light on and off angrily. Both of you covering your eyes. “and you! Mary of Magdala! You should be ashamed! Think of your mother!”

“Dude, chill.” Haechan stands, hands held up trying to block the bright light from his eyes. “We weren’t doing anything.”

“Weren’t doing anything?!? If people found out what you were doing, this one would be getting pelted with stones!” Mark passes the light over your face. You cringe, hands coming up to hide yourself.

“Mark, quick, what’s the verse about fucking that really cute voice of an angel choir boy?” Haechan throws him a knowing look, pulling a lanyard from his pocket. Marks eyes widen, snatching his keys away.

“Don’t steal my keys again! Next time I will be telling your father!” Mark scurries away, door slamming behind him.

“Oh my God he’s gonna tell your dad!” You panic, pulling your dress down. Attempting to wipe away any mascara that could be on your cheeks.

“Nah he’d never, can’t risk everyone finding out about Renjun. Don’t worry baby, I got something on everyone.” Haechan pulls you in, gently pecking your lips. Your senses relax, mind torn with stress still. Who the fuck were you right now..

“You know..” Haechan turns you around, hand scooping your chin. “I’m gonna fuck you. Right there.” He holds your jaw up. Eyes on landing on the altar.

“Jesus will know all your sins after I’m done with you.”

Part 3–>

Taglist:

@seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect​ @skrtbeepbeep​  @lanadreamie​ @nctstrawberrycow​  @meonlightuniverxse​ @sunshinedhyuck​ @haechanswhore​ @brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr​ @kpopmultiifandomm​ @d1nne​ @neobanguniverse​ @pewpewpwe00​ @abitofafan​ @haechansworld​ @born5sos​ @bockhyun​ @prettychannie​ @xuyiyangstan​@alexameliamg​ @ahsshilee​ @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @tarolovebot @loveyukhei @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @winwiniee @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @n0hyuck @doyoungssouthernbabygirl

[suna-reversed]

Sukuna Ryomen x reader

the VI acts of falling in love with a curse

tags/warnings- mentions of blood and violence, major character death!, reincarnation, suggestive themes but no smut, historical AU, soulmate AU

you can consider this an AU fic for “in your arms tonight”

quotes taken from Anne Carson, Natalie Wee, Nikka Ursula, Richard Siken, Madeline Miller

i. the beginning

“it’s rotten work”

“not to me. not if it’s you”

“you are a fool.” his laugh is bitter and dry.

“and you are my salvation.” you whisper.

the facade of mockery on his face fades, all that remains is the destruction, like the ruins of a town plagued with war, still burning with the impending threat of the actual doom that is to come.

“you do not know what you are asking for, it may-” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “...it will- destroy you.”

“destruction is all that I’m familiar with.”

and that is all he feels in his chest, the exploding of dynamites and landing of missiles as the wall he’s built around him comes crashing down with one simple gesture.

he cannot help but move his lips against hers.

ii. the unbecoming

“like any unloved thing, I don't know if I'm real when I'm not being touched”  

sobs rake through your body, as you cling onto the white fabric he always wears with all your life. he brings his hand up to caress your cheek but you flinch. his eyes darken with a look of maddening vexation.

he tries again- and this time, you ease into his touch. his heart clenches as you look up at him, fear in your eyes, the sight of the bruises littered across your cheek making him clench his fist. he brings his lips to the top of your head, gently mumbling,

“who did this to you?”

you say the name and he is already halfway apart from you, ready to annihilate the one who caused his petal such harm. but there’s a tugging force on his sleeve, catching his attention. all the ire in his mind fades away as you crawl over to him, wrapping your arms around his middle,

“please-” you sniff, fiddling with the cloth clenched in between your fingers,

“just hold me.”

he almost laughs at how she thought that he could ever deny her.

iii. the spring

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

“what are you doing?” your small giggle echoes late into the empty forest.

the side of his lips simply twitch up as he continues his ministrations, hands expertly wringing through your hair as he presses down kisses against the nape of your neck every now and then.

you relax back into his chest, looking over the view that the hill you sat on top provided you with. you know you have to leave before anyone finds out, but you can’t help but savour all the time you can get.

you both walk down together, his large hand encasing yours, rubbing circles onto your ring finger and you feel your face heating up. you catch your reflection in the pond and a gleeful laugh escapes you as you throws your hands around his neck. and perhaps love like this is unheard of, but it is love nonetheless.

he cannot help but feel his heart flutter as he sees her keep the flowers he braided into her hair throughout the day.

iv. the ruination

“sorry about the blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine.”

“i-i’m so sorry- i tried to stop it.” he feels a wet trail of drops falling onto his neck, but he cannot tell if they’re from your tears or from the scarlet pouring through his mouth.

how did it come to this? the mortals who ravaged him were long gone. he knew he’d make them suffer until their last breath. but oh- why was his petal there? why did you try to fight against them only once they had already half battered him to death?

his head stayed lolled against your lap, eyes burning, the stench of blood thick in the air. the sky was all shades of lilac and alliums- was the sweet scent in the air from the flower bed his hollow corpse lay on or from the daisies in the hair of his precious dove?

he never thought love and betrayal would feel the same.

v. the rebirth

“this is the way the world ends / this is the way the world ends / this is the way the world ends / not with a bang but a whimper.”

your eyes are wide, face bewildered, but you remain quite as he tugs you out from the doorway of your husband’s house and through the forest- towards the top of the hill.

the light in your eyes seems to have burned out- your energy drained from the struggle and fight you had to put up with in the last few days- or has it been months? the ghost of your lover coming to wake you in the middle of the night feels like an act of liberation.

he does not fail to notice this. and oh does he make sure you know that he’s alive in flesh and bone as you’re splayed out across the green blades, his body above yours as he makes you see stars but it’s not the ones in the night sky.

your sweat drenched foreheads are pressed together and you’re smiling against his lips but tears continue to fall down your cheeks. he pretends to not notice how you don’t wrap your arms around him when you leave or how you simply stare through him as he tells you he’ll get you out of here.

he cannot help but laugh as he finds your body floating in the river the next day, laugh as he holds you to his chest, laugh as he braids the flowers out of your hair and tucks them into the vial he wears, and laugh as he walks away from the ruins of the village aflame.

if he was destined to bring ruination, he may as well rain his wrath upon all.

vi. the end.

“I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell. I would know him blind, by the way his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

his chest is hollow but his heart still stops as his eyes meet hers.

it is centuries apart and he barely feels the jerk of his opponent throwing him against the pavement, barely feels the knife slit through his throat. he’s laughing and he cannot stop.

fate has once again decided to play a sick joke on him. he is well aware of it as he rips off the arm of the man trying to make him bleed. is he naive enough to not know that gods don’t bleed?

she is talking to the vessel he encapsulates and it’s your face and your voice and yet, it’s a stranger altogether. there’s an unfamiliar familiarity in her eyes as he reveals himself but she doesn’t know him- so she stumbles back in surprise and he thinks this is where it ends.

but then she’s smiling, a smile as warm as the sun, and he know he’d do it all over again- he’d ruin himself a million times over for her, even in another lifetime.

Sukuna cannot help how his lips curve upwards as she tilts her head, eyes filled with curiosity and fascination as she says,

“so you’re the one yuuji’s been telling me about.”

Taglist- @bakugohoex @tsuki-kusa @laura-marie-16 @captainmads2092 @notpmaosan @madamlindsay @jotazinha @osmosly @p-each-y-day @mikiminaccch @lilshortcakess @saturnmoon @mahitochan @menaintshit23 @half-baked-biscuit

[lokiskitten]

I NEED a part two of “first time”

Loki Laufeyson | first time pt2

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : ( refer to pt1 ) after experiencing a first intercourse together, Loki insists on crossing the path towards the end. With only the fear of being seen by the other variants holding you back, you end up agreeing to follow the excited man’s proposition.

warnings : smut, extremely short moment of none-con followed by a consent check up, mention of virginity loss ( male ), unprotected sex ( pls for the love of god wrap it ) and lowkey sub!Loki.

“Now that was... ah. Nice.” You affirmed tiredly, knees colliding with one another though your feet remained slightly parted. Your organism was still trying to wash away the orgasm you had just reached with Loki’s divine help. Meanwhile, the god of mischief carried on staring at your body, resembling a scientist who led an experience on the human anatomy. He wanted to ask a thousand questions, but didn’t feel brave enough to dare to open his mouth just yet. In fact, he felt as if he was disturbing an intimate and personal moment of yours. It nearly managed to make the god feel flustered and awkward.

Looking closer, Loki was able to spot your own love juice dripping out of your entrance, coating your swollen lips and settling a deep emotion of lustful hunger within his soul. He wanted more, he needed more- and only you could potentially satisfy his crippling and frustrating sexual appetite at the moment. His hands rested on your knees, forcefully parting your thighs before he allowed himself to slip in between. Upon feeling a weight suddenly add up against your own mass, your eyelids moved open which allowed you to make eye contact with Loki. You felt surprised to see him there, and even more surprised to witness him behaving in such a way.

“What are you doing?” You asked, attempting to move your chest up with the help of your elbows- which led Loki to back away to sit down on his knees between your legs. “Well, I’m doing the thing. Isn’t that what people do next?” He explained, earning a frown from your shocked self. Though, you were still willing to be patient with him. “No, you always ask. Always. Do you understand?” You affirmed seriously, earning a shy nod from the demigod who didn’t really enjoy to be treated like a child. Though his aim wasn’t to ruin this moment by starting unnecessary drama- especially as he appeared to be in the wrong. But once this small moment of embarrassment had passed by, Loki felt like explaining the reason to why he appeared so frustrated.

“Look, I have a very painful..” he began, only to end up being cut off by your staring self who admired the long shape traced from within his pants. It was too big to miss. “Boner.” You finished before looking up at him, earning an embarrassed gasp coming from the demigod. “And I really want you.” He finished on a nearly sorrowful tone adding up to a puppy face- a note that managed to reach your heart. You shot a glare at the small wooden cabin in which Mobius and the other variants were having dinner, anxiety taking over your organism at the thought of potentially being seen or caught by them. “I don’t know..” You explained, earning a frown from Loki sitting before you who didn’t appear to understand why you were refusing the offer after you had both experienced such fun.

“Aw come on. What could possibly go wrong?” He cheered, giving your shoulder a gentle fist kick in order to lift the mood. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help but remain stoic. “Well, loads of things in fact.” You responded, leading Loki’s smile to drop instantly. “What if we get caught? That would be an embarrassment I’d never be able to get over. Not to mention the whole pregnancy issues if your princess self isn’t capable of pulling out at the right time.” You carried on, offering Loki multiple exemples to why this upcoming sexual intercourse could possibly go wrong. Ironically enough, he appeared more concerned and offended over the fact that you had just called him princess rather than getting worked up about the horrible consequences program you had just settled.

After spending a couple of seconds making useless eye contact with the raven haired man, you ended up breaking this one in order to shoot another glance towards the wooden cabin. The surroundings appeared calm, which managed to ease your anxiety. Besides, after leading you to cum in such an incredible way, you believed that maybe Loki deserved a release too- adding up to the fact that you’d feel proud to be the woman who would take care of breaking through his virginity. Turning your head back towards his, a nod was the only gesture that escaped your body. It instantly managed to lift the demigod’s mood. “Really?..” Loki asked, and that in order to make sure you weren’t tricking him, the most famous trickster.

“Yeah, lets give it a try.” You responded on a friendly tone, a discreet smile adorning your features as you watched Loki summon a blanket for the two of you. He had probably noticed the way you appeared to avoid dust with the help of your pants, and wanted to offer you better then this piece or clothing to protect your sensitive skin. However, he appeared to organize this upcoming event in quite a religious way. He made sure to keep the blanket flat against the floor, brushing away the wrinkles until you finally stopped him by taking ahold of his wrist. “This is the part where you take your clothes off.” You affirmed, underlining the fact that he probably should stop worrying about the wrong matters especially as you were running out of time.

“Oh, right right.” He answered politely, taking a seat on the green pled before he began to precariously unbutton his TVA shirt. You watched as his tone muscles were revealed, his abs shifting as he got rid of his upper piece of clothing for good. This checkpoint led you to look up at his greenish eyes again, the two of you exchanging a smile before he began to go for his belt. The shape of his hard member was still visible through his trousers, a length that would soon be set free once Loki would finally get rid of his pants. No shame or embarrassment seemed to fill his organism upon his lower clothes being pulled down to his knees- his crotch being revealed to your respectful sight. In contrary, Loki appeared more than proud of himself for finally getting to go through such a thing, which held him back from accumulating negative emotions.

Your two naked selves then laid down on the blanket, wrapping your arms around one another’s body and engaging in a rather friendly but passionate hug. You enjoyed this warm and safe physical contact, and you expected Loki to enjoy it too. The sensation of his moist tip rubbing against your stomach only made it better- as you still felt amazed regarding the size of his member. It combined both generous length and girth, and was also gifted with the perfect shape any woman, or man, could ever ask for. “You smell nice..” he affirmed, his nose being stuck to the crook of your neck as you happily passed your hands through his black hair. He ended up looking up at you, pressing a shy and respectful kiss to your lips. You smiled.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to roll around, switching to Loki now resting on top of you. He smiled down out you out of pure excitement, his tip already trying to find a way into your entrance- as clumsy as his hips could be. After taking notice that he appeared to have a hard time lining himself up with your hole, you slipped a hand down between your legs and gave his balls a gentle caress, earning a couple of sensitive moans coming from your excited partner. However, your hand then proceeded to slither it’s way up his shaft, delicate digits wrapping around this one’s girth in order to move it to where it should and wanted to be. When you felt like Loki was now ready to carry on on his own, your hand made its way back up to his shoulder before passing underneath his arm and wrapping around his smooth and muscular back.

The raven haired man looked down at you with slight panic in his eyes upon being aware that a single hip thrust of his could begin the intercourse, his shoulders now having to carry a great responsibility he simply wasn’t ready to fail. Unfortunately, Loki once again appeared to struggle with pushing himself in. Even when looking down at your crotch, he still didn’t manage to properly slide inside of you. However, upon taking notice of his distress again, you agreed to slip your hand back down to his groin, taking a gentle hold of his shaft which you locked between your thumb and index finger before offering him a little bit of help regarding penetration. Thankfully, his cock was now able to slide inside of you on it’s own even if it remained a slow process.

Moving your hand away, you allowed Loki to fully take over the penetration process as you watched his facial expressions clench and contract. Eventually his eyelids shut close, hips colliding with yours as his tip dangerously brushed against your sensitive cervix. You could tell that this was brand new for him, and that he visibly had a hard time handling it. “You’re doing amazing.” You affirmed empathetically, your hand gently caressing his flexed biceps. Meanwhile, Loki couldn’t help but focus onto the warmth your walls provided him, his brain still attempting to process how nice it felt to finally get to be coated in a woman’s love juices. It was tight, moist, and warm- long story short : the perfect environnement for his needy member.

“Maybe try to give moving a try..” you proposed shyly, your organism beginning to feel more than overwhelmed by Loki’s filling presence inside of you. After hearing about this offer, Loki began to slowly back away from your crotch, shiny length, which was coated in your love juice, sliding out of you with relative ease. The two of your moaned, though you appeared calmer than your friend at first- who you didn’t forget was currently going through his first intercourse ever. Therefore, judgment wasn’t present. It didn’t take long for a regular thrusting process to take place, your overly sensitive walls nicely reacting to the friction caused by Loki’s cock especially after getting to orgasm beforehand. Your arms remained wrapped around his back, the two of you rocking back and forth against the green blanket.

“You’re doing so good..” you whispered in his ear, eyelids remaining closed as your hand had now taken ahold of his long raven hair. Your main goal was to enhance him through this event, and give him the happiness and recognition he clearly deserves as a bed partner. However, your natural tightness adding up to the more than large size of his girth was overstimulating Loki’s genitals, sending shockwaves of pleasure down his shaft and straight into his tensed balls which repetitively bumped against the area located beneath entrance. “Don’t forget to- to pull out.” You begged breathlessly, his thrusts becoming more primal and intense now that he had gained some extra self esteem regarding the situation.

You couldn’t help but grow worried and work yourself up over this intercourse’s potential end, wondering if the man on top of you was going to be able to control himself and pull out before his cum could penetrate into your womb. Thankfully, this annoying state didn’t last for long and you soon found yourself lost into lust again. Your arms wrapped around his neck, teeth gently biting down onto his earlobe as you allowed yourself to tug on it in a primal yet harmless manner. Loki seemingly appeared to appreciate this move, another wave of moans exiting his mouth as he unexpectedly pulled out of your cunt in order to allow his own hand to wrap around his shaft.

A couple of pumps were enough to see white liquid spring out of his urethra, the sperme landing on your stomach and staining your delicate skin. You were both left breathless, for nearly the exact same reason as one another. Resting your hand onto your chest, you panted whilst looking down at the substance on your tummy which appeared surprisingly appetizing. “Loki..” you moaned gently, fingers brushing against one of the stained parts of your stomach before you brought your digit up to your lips. Even if you hadn’t tasted many, his cum appeared different than the rest on the gustative level. “That was amazing.” You affirmed with a smile, extending your arm for him to join you on the blanket. You were craving for his touch, more than you had ever craved anything before.

[ part one available right here ]

As requested, here’s part two! I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read. Don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means tons. Stay safe and happy❤️

[plush-rabbit]

Sleeping With Simeon

Request: So because I only trust your representation of Simeon, do u think he would b into somno? Or do you think he would feel violated/taking advantage of MC?

Warnings: Somno

A/N: quick thing because could not get this out of my head and honestly, a fic of this is defs something im gonna work on because somno?? guilt?? angels?? Sign me up) (also i kept this gn but i do use the word breast so yeah!!

For Simeon to take advantage of you when you are unconscious is something that he feels so guilty for. Guilt will eat away at him, break his bones and make him so nervous that he fears he won’t ever be able to look at you again. But he doesn’t tell you or anyone of his sins. He’s remorseful, of course he is, he’s taking advantage of you when he hasn’t had your consent but it just feels so good to be inside of you. You’re so careful with his purity- always making sure that things don’t go to far, always stopping him when his hands start to wander near your sex- and he’s grateful for it but it’s frustrating all at the same time.

At first Simeon doesn’t even notice what he’s begun to think and to want. It’s lustful thinking that a part of him wants to blame Asmodeus or even Solomon. He wants to blame his surroundings for the imperfections in his being, but he knows it isn’t that. It’s something deeper, something much more primal that scares the angel just a bit. He just thinks about you. He thinks of your naked body, how warn you feel when you press yourself against him, and how soft your lips are, the fluidity of your tongue. He can’t help himself when his hand is fisted around his cock, as he bites into the back of his hand to muffle his moans as he thinks of how good you would look on your knees, your eyes wide and lips parted with his cockhead.

He has to be careful with his prayers because despite not being under the constant watch of God, he knows that his prayers must be heard by someone. His hands are clasped together, the rosary between his closed psalm as he murmurs under his breath, chest raising and dipping, each breath more raspy than the last. He’s close to temptation, eager and salivating, as he watches you enter his room and comfort him. It’s an odd touch even though you’ve touched him multiple times. Your hands curved over his shoulders, your lips close to his face that he can smell the sweetness on your tongue from dessert and he doesn’t know what’s changed for you to be so close and for him to want nothing more than to bury himself in your chest, and cup a breast. He wants to feel you under him, but for now, he rests his head on your shoulder with a heavy breath and unblinking eyes.

It’s a low night for him. He doesn’t know how he’s managed to stray from you for so long, but he’s done it despite how hard you’ve made it. He hears you pleasure yourself in the shower, his back against the wooden door and his hands playing with himself, trying to match the movements to yoru sounds. You whimper and whine, murmuring curses under your breath and he can picture your skin- glistening and flushed, your heart racing as your hand plays with your sex. A part of him feels anger for hearing you play with yourself- is he not enough? He’s right outside, you could have called him, but you chose to keep your own sins behind closed doors- and so close to him. You must know what you’re doing. Another part of him is grateful that you’ve decided to do this so close to him- almost as if you were giving him a treat.

When you exit the shower, you don’t speak a word of your actions and neither does he. He wonders if you know that he could hear you. He just wants to get this night over with already. He wants to sleep and hopefully when he wakes up, you’ll be gone for him to pleasure himself. He watches you slip into bed, ignores how he can smell your sex still aching with arousal, and he places himself beside you. You’re quick to curl up beside him with your bare leg against his while you kiss his shoulder and tell him goodnight. You sleep in an oversized shirt- one that belonged to him but he gave to you.

Long after you’ve fallen asleep, you haven’t moved your leg away from him. You jerk in your sleep pushing closer to him and he’s still awake. He can hear your breaths- slow and deep, a signal that you are in deep sleep and that you won’t be awakened. If he closes his eyes, he can hear your more ragged breaths. He grows hard even with his wishful thinking, and when he calls your name, you don’t respond to him. His mind rushes with worry, thoughts invading his mind in a dark room only occupied by you and him. He lets his hand wander to the outside of his pajama pants and palms himself through the fabric. Perhaps pleasuring himself beside you would be enough but it isn’t and it’s late and he’s just tired of waiting, and he gives into sin.

You’re deep into sleep when he begins to rut himself against you. It’s a friction that just so much in such a short period of time. You’re much softer around your thighs, your skin supple and letting him press deeper into you. He’s rapid, pushing himself against you and even long after he’s reached his high, he can’t stop his movements. He’s desperate to feel you, so eager to finally be close to you that after a few minutes, he’s reached his high and even then he isn’t satisfied. You’re against him, sleeping and body already pleasured, that it makes sense for him to slip into you, to turn you on your back and hover above you with a pulsing erection that dribbles his semen onto your tummy.

He’s alone and awake with these thoughts, lust so ingrained in him that any of his worries have finally left him. No longer in Father’s vision, he has free will to do what he wants- to finally give him and take what is his. He’s weak, and with tears in his eyes- whether from guilt or from pleasure- he gives in. His cock is placed between your thighs, his hands clammy as they close them together over his cock, letting himself take pleasure in how warm and soft they feel around him. It’s a loving hug that he had never had the opportunity to feel. He’s above you, head hidden into the crook of your neck, begging in his mind that you don’t awaken to find this image of him taking advantage of you. His breath is warm against your neck, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips only to meet your neck, feeling the pulsing pint of your beating heart. His cock is warmed by your thighs, his seed spreading thin against you.

Against his better judgement, he turns you over and slips off your undergarments, letting your sex finally breath. He spreads you before him, your hole stretching out and under the pale moonlight, he can see the pink flesh that calls to him. His spit glistens on your skin, slipping inside of you and his cock throbs in want. Under his breath, he curses, his head dipping down as he slips into you. You’re much tighter than he would have thought- your walls clinging to him and molding to his shape. He pushes himself to the base, his eyes fluttering to a close and he regrets not doing this sooner. He realizes why falling for humans is so taboo- nothing could ever compare to your gummy walls that close around his cock, that pull him deeper with every thrust, the way that you whine and shift, how your hole clenches around him with every movement. He wishes that you were awake, to see your face scrunch and your hands clench around his arms begging for him to push himself deeper.

His seed fills you, spilling out and sticking to his cock in heavy strands when he pulls out. He huffs, his hands on your thighs, watching your hole twitch and spill out more of him. Simeon leans over and tilts your head, kissing your cheek and cupping your weeping sex. With careful hands, he cleans you, removing any trace of what he’s done and letting the night only be a memory to him. At the cusp of sleep, the guilt settles in and he brings you close, feeling your hands go to find him and hold him tight in your grasp. He whispers an apology to you, and tries to ignore the satisfaction that makes his heart race.

[duskholland]

Warm | Tom Holland Smut

warnings ↠ nsfw, 18+ ! this is just some very loving c*ckwarming with sleepy boyfriend tom, ft unprotected sex and oral (fem receiving)

word count ↠ a wholesome 3k

a/n ↠ got inspired by the ig live yesterday and whipped up a lil something to satisfy the devil in me. let me know what you think!

The material of Tom’s hoodie is soft against your cheek, and as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, it feels as though the weight of the world is rolling from your shoulders. His hands are on your waist, tucked beneath the hem of your t-shirt and resting gently over the curves of your hips. As you hum against his shoulder, you feel him shift his fingers, tracing delicate, circular patterns over your skin. 

“Your hoodie is so soft,” you mumble against him, punctuating the words with a few soft kisses to the base of his neck. Tom squeezes your sides, bringing his lips to the top of your head where he leaves a lingering kiss to your hairline. “Wish we could stay like this forever.”

One of his hands moves away from your waist, drifting up to cup the back of your head. As Tom’s nimble fingers rest over your hair, he uses his other arm to pull you closer. It’s a lazy Sunday morning, both of you tangled up in sweats and comfy clothes, and the feeling of his warm body pressed against yours makes you sigh contentedly. 

“We can stay like this all day?” Tom offers. He slowly strokes over the back of your head, the gesture full of a gentle tenderness you’d missed. He’s been so busy recently, with filming and press engagements, that it’s been a while since you’ve had time to exist like this. Two people, curled up together, wrapped up in dizzying love. “Missed you so much this week, darling.”

You smile against his neck and finally pull back so you can look at him properly. You’re resting over Tom’s thighs, straddling his green sweats comfortably, and your position gives you the perfect opportunity to get a lovely, long look at your boyfriend’s face. With his pink hood drawn up around his head, you can make out a few strands of his brown hair, long and a little shiny, and you find your fingers drawn towards them. You reach up, smiling at his tut of disapproval as you gently knock the hood down, revealing his bed of messy, chestnut curls.

“Missed you too,” you finally reply, carding a hand through his hair. With your other fingers, you reach out to cup his cheek, grinning as he presses his face into your palm. Tom’s got his eyes wide and flooded with gentle love, and it makes you melt. This man has you wrapped around his little finger. “Missed a lot of things about you, actually.”

“Yeah?” Tom’s lips quirk into a lazy smirk as he draws you a little nearer. He smells faintly of cologne. “Like what?”

“Oh, you know…” As you muse, you let your index finger wander down the bridge of his nose, tracing over the light freckles. “Missed hearing your lovely voice. It always sounds so raspy in the morning like this.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “And I missed your hugs. God, Tom, you give the best hugs.” As if to prove your point, Tom tightens his grip around you. “Missed your lips, too.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” He’s got that cheeky glint in his eyes, and you nod your head immediately. “I think they missed you too, love. Why don’t you pay them a visit?”

The snort that leaves your mouth is a loud burst of twisted sound, but it makes Tom’s smile grow wider. You wind both arms around his neck and shuffle closer, finally bridging the distance and nuzzling your mouth against his. 

Kissing Tom has to be one of your favourite things ever. The way your lips meld together, dancing in sync as he presses against you with eager force always makes your heart race, no matter how long you’ve been together. His lips are warm and gentle, and as they meet with yours in a lazy exploration of mutual enjoyment, you find yourself melting against him. His hands are back on your hips, and they roam the expanse of your naked back as his tongue flicks into your mouth, causing you to groan softly. When he drags his fingers up and discovers your lack of bra, he’s quick to shift his palms around to the front of your body, holding the curves of your breasts in each hand.

“I bloody love you,” he murmurs, speaking against your lips. The pads of his thumbs brush over your nipples and you gasp into his mouth, careening further into his touch. “You’re the most beautiful woman on the planet, lovie.” 

You kiss him with a little more intensity, your heart fluttering in response to his sweet, sweet sentiment. It’s early - the both of you had only woken up a half-hour ago - so Tom’s voice is strained and raspy. The sound of his husky tones brings a thrill of excitement to the heat between your legs. 

As his tongue explores your mouth and your fingers tangle in his hair, you become aware of a building pressure pushing up against your sweats. You start to grind down against him, enjoying both the friction it provides to your clit and also the way the movement draws deep, desperate whines from Tom. 

“You wanna know a secret?” You ask him, pulling away to pant in his ear. When Tom hums, you kiss his earlobe. “Think I might’ve missed your cock, too.”

His chuckle rumbles into the air. “Is that so?” Tom’s hands slip away from your chest, and they anchor down your hips. You hum as he guides you, pushing you further against his crotch as your centres meet. You can feel the outline of his length straining up against you, and the sensation makes you grin. “I’ve missed being inside your tight little pussy.” He leaves a kiss just behind your ear, right over a patch of sensitive skin. “Maybe we should do something about that?”

You almost whine as you nod, eagerly reaching down to release the drawstrings of his sweats. In return, Tom pulls free your own, and there’s a moment of shuffling around as you sit up and carefully wriggle out of both your trousers and your panties, Tom bundling them up and folding them into a neat pile beside him. Once you’re settled, you reach beneath the waistband of Tom’s sweats and pull his full member free, all whilst his hot lips trail up and down the column of your neck. 

There’s no burning desperation to your movements as you slowly work one another up. Rather, it’s gentle. Soft caresses, tender lips, whispered words of praise. You’re kissing him as you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, and he’s swallowing your moans with his tongue when two of his fingers slip into your slick pussy and work you open. It’s loving and familiar as he crooks his fingertips and nudges up against your g-spot, stimulating your passage until you’re bucking down against him, your movements distracted as your cunt drips for him.

“Need you inside me,” you moan out, a slight pull to your voice. You whimper as Tom’s hot fingers slip out from inside you, and then gasp when he uses his wet fingertips to rub over your clit. The bud pulses and you almost lose it, but a panging in your cunt reminds you of your overwhelming desire to have him inside you. “Tom,” you whine, skimming your thumb over his weepy tip, “Stop teasing.”

Tom growls into your ear, but he reluctantly moves his fingers away from you. He meets your eyes as he very purposefully brings his hand to his mouth and makes a show of licking his digits clean, moaning softly as he does it. 

“Delicious,” he decides. When you throw him a light scowl, he grabs you by the hips and brings you nearer. “Now,” he says, dropping his voice. His hand joins yours on his cock, and together you guide his head through your slit. You let Tom do the hard work, whimpering quietly as he lines his tip with your entrance. “How about we take care of this little problem, eh?”

Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you slowly, slowly lower yourself over him, tossing your head back as you adjust to the stretch. Tom’s lips move over your neck, sucking a soft hickey to your skin, anchoring you down. The sensation of his member settling deep inside you after so long makes you grab fistfuls of his hoodie, your knuckles tightening around it as you gasp softly.

“Fuck,” you murmur, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You’re fully seated now, and you can feel every ridge and line of his cock pushed up against your walls, as if in high definition. Everything is amplified, and the longer you sit there wrapped up in his arms and with his lips now dusting over your temple, the closer to Tom you feel. “I love you,” you whimper, voice breathless.

Tom runs his hands over your back, soothing you with large circles of his palms. “Love you too, darling,” he mumbles. He shifts a little on the sofa, and you moan as the head of his cock brushes deeper. “Feel so warm ‘n snug around me.”

You feel yourself clench at his words, and make a very conscious decision to loosen up. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you pull yourself away from the crook of Tom’s neck, pouting a little as the soft fabric of his hoodie leaves your face.

“Do you want to stay like this for a little bit?” You ask, eyes skimming his beautiful face. Your heart fills with appreciation for the man as you pick up all the small details that make him so attractive to you: the worn curves of his nose, the splattering of sun-kissed freckles over his cheeks, the ruffled hairs of his eyebrow. Your thumb absently moves up to his eyebrow and you draw your touch across it, feeling the soft hairs with your finger and sighing as you admire him. 

“How long?”

You crane your neck back, glancing briefly at the paused TV. “‘Til the end of the show? Should be about ten minutes.” You move your hand into his hair, feeling the silky strands fall past your fingers. “Just wanna feel close to you.”

Tom presses his lips to the tip of your nose, drawing a loose giggle from you. “Alright,” he agrees. He drops his voice as he shifts his mouth back to your ear, hot breath flushing over your neck as he adds, quieter, “I’m going to wreck you afterwards, though.”

A shiver passes through you, and your hum mixes with the sounds of the TV as Tom immediately unpauses the programme. You can’t see the screen from where you’re sitting, but you turn down Tom’s offer to reposition. The show is the last thing on your mind, and you’re glad you’re not distracted by it. 

For you, there’s nothing more fulfilling than hiding your face into your boyfriend’s shoulder and feeling him everywhere. Hands on your sides, caressing you and drawing you closer. His lips softly passing over the top of your head. His length, plugging you up to the hilt. Each time one of you shifts, you release a quiet whimper as arcs of pleasure roll up your spine, and when you clench in response, Tom grunts. There’s something so easily private about it: no end goal but just to enjoy one another, and spend this quiet moment holed up in each other’s arms. 

You’ve never felt this loved before, and it brings a lump to your throat.

“You okay?” Tom asks, shifting a hand to hold the back of your head. You hum, tilting your face to the side so you can kiss the point behind his ear.

“Yeah. Just really love you.”

His eyes flicker down to meet yours, flooding with concern when he notes the tears spread thinly over your eyes. “You’re so precious,” he lilts, his accent twanging prominently. He brings you nearer, kissing your forehead in several spots. “I’m going to marry you one day.”

You kiss him, letting your hand travel up to rest against his cheek. “Good,” you whisper against him. There’s a dizzying moment where you just look at him, his eyes mirroring yours, flooded deep with gratitude that rocks you to your bones. You feel safe wrapped up in his arms, and as the music for the credits drifts through the air, you find yourself exhaling. “Show’s over.”

“Lay down for me, love.” 

You whimper when you feel his length slide from you, your cunt feeling cold and empty without him, but he kisses at your pout until it fades away. Tom follows you down onto the couch cushions, caging you in with an arm either side your head. After a moment, you feel his cock sliding through your slit again, pressing up against your clit in a way that makes you moan. 

“I can taste myself on your tongue,” you admit, pulling away from a deep kiss with a perplexed expression on your face. 

“Fucking lovely, isn’t it?” Tom gains a rather mischievous look on his face. “Actually…” 

He pulls away before you can grab him to stay, and Tom slips down between your legs with a cheeky smirk on his lips. 

“Tom,” you whine, scrunching your nose. “I want you.”

“In a minute.” He presses your knees apart and leaves a soft kiss to the inside of one of your thighs. “Patience, my darling girl.”

You try your best to look unimpressed, but it’s very difficult to maintain the rouse as he draws his tongue through your slit. You reach down to grip at his hair, pulling him closer as he trails his mouth all over you. He moans straight against your sopping folds, teasing your clit with his tongue as he slides two fingers back into you, exploring your wet heat eagerly.

“Tom,” you cry out, your back arching off the sofa. His free hand immediately goes to your side, pushing you back down and keeping you in place as his mouth explores you. Noises of your wet arousal fill the air as he sucks over your clit, teasing you, edging you until you’re whimpering. “C’mon, Tom, don’t wanna cum like this. Need to be full of you.”

When he pulls back, Tom runs the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the shine of your slick and his spit combined. He cracks a smile when he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, pulling up until he’s hovering above you once more. One of his hands caresses your leg before loosely opening it up, and the other rests over your hair near your head. He kisses you softly.

“Are you ready?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you whimper, pressing down against him to prove your point. Your voice twists into a gasp as Tom slips into you, the movement easy and slick. Your fingers grip at the back of his hoodie as he rocks against you, your cunt squeezing around him as you take him wholly. “Shit.”

Tom nips at your necks, strands of his hair rubbing up against your hot skin. “So fucking perfect,” he murmurs. He pulls out before fucking back into you with a deep, slow thrust. “Fuck, you’re such an angel.” He leaves another kiss to your neck as he gradually quickens his pace. “My angel, aren’t you?”

You pull him back up, meeting his mouth in response. As you kiss him, his hand on your thigh shifts up and intertwines with one of yours, your fingers tangling as the rest of your bodies do, too. You’re grateful for the contact - keeping you anchored together like an emotional tether, a constant reminder of your love. 

Everything about the moment feels so intimate, his pace slow but still fulfilling. Each time Tom thrusts his hips to meet yours, you feel him in you deep, nudging against those spots only he could reach. Each rut presses you one step closer to heaven, and your praises come out garbled, dissolving into his mouth as his lips caress you, tender and warm. 

Tom pulls away after minutes of deep kissing to stare at you, brown eyes full of warmth. “I’m so lucky,” he stammers out, voice strained. You widen your leg, granting him easier access, and both of you groan as the position lets him in deeper. You can feel that telltale warmth building in the pit of your stomach. “Love of my life, you are. You and your- fuck, your perfect little pussy.” His cheeks are red as he kisses your jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you for the rest of my life, love.”

His words ignite something inside you that goes much deeper than superficial pleasure, and you find yourself clinging to him, gripping his hand with renewed strength as your other twists down between your bodies. Your fingertips connect with your clit, and you glide them over the bud, moaning louder as you feel your orgasm jerk closer.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself saying, eyes trained on the spot between your legs where Tom’s cock meets with your cunt. “Wanna feel you fill me up.” 

His head finds the crook of your neck, sweaty forehead pushing up against your skin as he grunts. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand as you gasp for breath. “I’m close.”

Tom peaks a few moments later, and the action of his guttural groans spilling into the air coupled with the way his cock pulses as he empties his load inside you makes you spasm over the edge too. You whimper as you orgasm, a throbbing warmth spreading across you as Tom kisses your neck over and over, his fingers gripping yours tightly as you enjoy the high together, basking in it. Your mouth hangs half-open as you vocalise your climax, your body on fire as he fucks you through it, the moment spanning a short infinity.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, finally stilling. He stays nudged up inside you as he sits up, supporting his weight on his arms, your hands still joined. Tom kisses you passionately, and you feel him smile against your lips as you kiss him back. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You bring your free hand up to his head, pushing his hair out from his face as you cup his cheek, looking into his captivating brown eyes. You look at him, and you know that there’s no safer vessel for your heart. You know he’s the love of your life. 

“Love you too,” you say, pausing to kiss him between each word. By the end, both of you are smiling. “You know you’re still in me, yeah?”

Tom chuckles, nodding. “Yeah.” He kisses your nose. “You’re warm.”

-

------

yeah you could say im soft for hoodie!tom...

masterlist linked in bio !

please let me know if you’ve got any thoughts :D askbox is always open; feel free to rb/comment (pls)

stay safe my lovely pals <3

[lavishedinjimin]

I would love to see one where Jimin has you wear a bluetooth controlled vibrator while you’re out and he’s edging you like crazy. Lotsss of suggestive dirty talk before he eventually lets you finish? Thank you love your writings so so much 😭😍

'edging you like crazy' = yum

warnings: begging... lots and lots of begging

~

Jimin couldn't stop smirking. You can't even walk properly, how the hell are you supposed to act normally?

As soon as you stepped foot inside the restaurant, that's when Jimin turned the vibrator on. All this time you were ordering, talking to the waiter, Jimin plays with the remote app on his phone, grinning as he runs his tongue on his bottom lip.

He feels incredibly cocky. Watching you stammer your words, your fist clenching, hips trying not to move in a way that looks weird to other people, fuels his drive to bring you to complete madness.

Jimin even had the audacity to bring the level up five times when you were talking to the waiter. With tense legs, you try your hardest to hold back a moan, your eyebrows furrowing while attempting to keep intact.

As the waiter walks off, for sure feeling suspicious, you slam your fist on the table. "Don't. Do. That," you say with gritted teeth, glaring at him. "Why did you—awhh fuck—" you hide your face in your hands, cutting your words of by a whimper, "why did you have to turn it up?"

"To make you hornier, of course," Jimin says plainly, leaning back onto his chair. You clamp your legs together, trying to feel some kind of release.

Jimin can see that you were slightly rocking back and forth on your seat, letting out quiet and desperate moans here and there. "I bet you're soaking that fucking chair of yours, my love." Jimin reaches out with his left hand to grasp your chin, forcing you to look directly at his sultry eyes, "Tell me how wet you are."

"So fucking wet," you whisper, your pussy throbbing as you feel yourself drip down to your panties, soaking the material further. "I need you so bad."

"Mhm, yeah?" he bites his lip, getting so aroused. "I can fucking smell you from here. You think these people can smell that dirty cunt as well?" he suggests, tilting his head in the direction of the people that were sitting across from you.

His dirty talk wasn't helping at all. He was talking in a manner that only you can hear, but you can't avoid darting your eyes around the room to check if people can hear what he was saying. Jimin suddenly toys with the level of the vibrations once again, making you shiver.

You put your hand against your mouth, muffling your growing moans.

"Shhhh," Jimin chuckles, "If you keep moaning so loudly like that, I'm not gonna fuck you when we get back home." He was trying to taunt you, but your mind was racing with the thought of just wanting to cum. You were so close already, rubbing your thighs together as you search for more friction. Jimin sheepishly palms his bulge, sensing his crotch getting tighter.

"Ohh, baby girl," he muses, "you're about to cum, aren't you?" he giggles as he pinches your cheek, "aren't you? Aww, look at you. You're blushing so hard!"

You were right at the very edge of your climax, just a few seconds until you spill your cum onto your panties, making a mess — but he stops.

"The food's here, look!" Jimin grins as he points to the waiter, carrying your dishes.

You gaze at him with an exasperated, annoyed look on your face as your chest heaves up and down. You feel so frustrated that you wanted to punch something.

"What? Let's eat, Y/n!"

Even at the walk back to the parking lot, Jimin was trying to hide his amused chuckles as your legs quake with each step. You squeal as he plays with the settings again, putting it up to the highest level, then bringing it back down again.

He just loves to see you suffer, doesn't he?

Inside his car, he urges you to lie at the backseat with your legs spread, giving him a clear view of your ruined panties. Jimin turns into a different person, feeling aggressive as he suddenly wraps his hand around your neck.

He puts the setting onto its highest level possible. You immediately react, bucking your hips up and down, eventually freeing your moans and whines as Jimin rubs your inner thigh teasingly. Your moans were music to his ears, and he loves how loud you were being.

Good thing his car was spacious enough.

He pulls your panties down to your ankles, the scent of your wet cunt finally hits his nose and his mouth salivate. "Oh my god," he says with a somewhat shaky breath, "your pussy's ruined, baby girl. Just like your multiple ruined orgasms, right?"

Jimin watches your walls clench repeatedly on the toy, your wetness dripping from your hole and down to your ass.

"Please touch me," you beg with weary eyes, "I need it so fucking bad."

He smirks, shaking his head, "No, baby."

"Please!" you cry out loudly this time, hands grabbing his arm and pulling him closer to you, "Please, please, please, I need to cum. I need you to touch me, please, Jimin."

His cock throbs from your desperate begs. Although he finds you so adorable begging like that, he doesn't touch your pussy. Instead, he just caresses your thighs, inching his fingers slowly to your aching cunt, but he pulls away before you can buck your hips into him.

"Jimin, n-no," you cry, "it's too much, p-please I just—"

He pulls the vibrator out of you.

Jimin never looked punchable until today.

You let out a loud yell of distraught that for sure can be heard from the outside. Your body shakes, eyes rolling to the back of your head as ruins another orgasm.

He hovers himself on top of you, stroking your cheek as he tries to calm you down, "Baby," he says firmly, "you've been such a good girl. So fucking obedient. For you to cum, I want you to do one last thing for me."

You don't even have the energy to reply to that. Whatever the fuck he wants, you're going to do, because all you ever desire right now is to cum.

"I want you to beg. Beg how much you want my cock inside that wet, dirty pussy. Because that's what you want right now, yeah? You want my fat cock to pound your pussy?"

"Mhmm, f-fuck," you grind your hips into him, feeling so horny, "Please, Jimin, I-I want your cock so badly. I need it!" You gasp when Jimin teases the head of the vibrating toy against your sopping entrance, pushing it in and pulling it out again and again.

"Uuughhh, please! I want your cock, Jimin. I want it to make me cum so hard, I want it to make me feel good. Please, please, please!"

Jimin plants a kiss on your forehead. "Good girl."

And he finally gives you what you deserve. He plunges the vibrator back in with a content smile plastered on his face. The build-up to your orgasm didn't take long, and you quickly spill all your juices onto the toy, cum dripping down your abused hole.

"I-I don't want to do this again," you whisper to him.

"The toy or me edging you?" Jimin smirks, kissing your lips passionately. He chuckles during the kiss from the way you don't have any energy left to kiss him back.

"Fucking both?"

[bteezxyewriter12]

Stalker/ 2

Pairing- San x Named Reader

Word count- 5.9k

Includes- Oral, bathroom sex, club sex, sink sex, sex from behind, squirting, Jungkook yandere behavior, stalking, potential kidnapping, San panics and protects reader, Yeosang is a jerk

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Prompt Series Masterlist 📝Masterlists

📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝San Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Jungkook POV

Slamming the door to the house closed, I angrily storm towards my room

She has a fucking boyfriend

Doesn't she know by now that she's mine?

He's just another person I have to kill now

I don't understand

She's so smart so why is she doing dumb things?

She knows her and I are meant to be together, we belong to each other

She knows I love her and will do anything for us to be together

So why is she with that guy?

San

Even thinking his name makes the rage flow through my body

"Ahhh", I yell, punching the wall in the hallway

My fist goes through it and when I pull it out my knuckles are raw and bloody

"What the fuck?", Namjoon roars, coming out of his room, "What the fuck is your problem? You're here for a max of two days and you're already breaking the house?"

"I heard banging", Yoongi says, sticking his head out of his room

He looks at me and rolls his eyes, "Why am I not surprised it's you?"

"What's wrong Jungkook?", Namjoon sighs

"Call a meeting", I snap at Namjoon

As the leader of the gang, Namjoon is the only one who can call an official meeting

"What why?", he narrows his eyes

"Just fucking do it"

He sighs but takes out his phone and sends a text to the group chat

My phone goes off and I turn heading to the living room to wait for everyone

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

"So why are we here?", Tae asks, bored

"Because I need your help", I answer

"With what?", Jimin asks, interested

"Getting rid of someone"

"Who?", Jin questions, "You just got out of prison, how can you want to kill someone already? Who pissed you off that much in two days?"

"Joanne's boyfriend", I growl

"Oh god", Yoongi rolls her eyes

"Her again?", Hobi whines

"Yes her? You know I love her. You knew I was coming to get her."

"Why her?", Tae questions

"Because I love her", I snarl

"She put you in jail! She testified against you in open court!", Yoongi yells

"She was forced to. She didn't mean it"

"Oh my god Jungkook wake up. You fucking scared her. You kidnapped her. She testified to put you away so you couldn't get to her", Tae snorts

"No. She's mine. No one else's", I insist

They don't understand

I need her

She is in my mind 27/7/366

I crave her

Crave to have her in my arms, to smell her scent, hear her voice, touch her body, taste her kiss, see her smile

I crave to be inside her again, feeling her clench around me, feel her cum on me, watch her in pleasure only I can give her

I can't stay away

And I don't have to

We said we belong to each other

I'm not giving her up for anything

I'd kill anyone of them for her

I'll kill anyone for her

And if I can't have her, I'll kill her, then myself

She's everything, my life

No one but me can have her

"Did you really expect her to wait for you? When she put you away?", Hobi asks, doubtfully

I don't care what they say

I know she didn't mean to do that

I know she was forced by the cops, by the lawyers to testify against me

It wasn't her idea

And I don't blame her for being with this asshole

I blame him

He weaseled his way to my baby and brainwashed her

Once he's gone, she'll see, she'll remember and be glad she's mine

"What matters now is that this guy disappears and never comes back"

"How do you know about him exactly?", Namjoon questions

"I went to her job and waiting until she got off to talk to her. While I was talking to her, he came over, put his arm around her and kisses her cheek. Called her baby"

White hot anger flares just thinking about him touching her

His dirty lips on her skin

"He dragged her away from me before I could really talk to her"

"Dragged? Really?", Yoongi sighs, "Or did she go willing and your twisted mind saw it as dragging her"

He's really getting on my fucking nerves

"She was dragged", I growl

He turned her away from me, forced her to leave and get in his car

How is that not dragging her?

"Who is this guy?", Hobi asks

"His name is San"

An uneasy look passes between them

What?

"Does he have black hair, long on top with an undercut?"

I nod

"Tall, tattoos on his arms and hands?"

"Yeah"

"Drives a red Porsche?"

"Yes. What the fuck?", I snap

"I know him", Namjoon answers, "Hobi and Jin too"

"Ok and?"

"He's in the ATEEZ gang", Hobi reveals

"Again and?", I ask, confused

"It's a new gang that showed up after you went to prison. They're ruthless. And their leader Hongjoong is crazy. San is their enforcer and interragator. He's very violent", Jin explains

So?

We're all violent

I'm Bangtan's enforcer

What are they trying to say?

"Are you...scared of them?", I ask on disbelief

"Not scared. Cautious. We don't want any problems with them", Namjoon answers

"Plus San is nice", Hobi adds

Nice

He's nice

Like that fucking matters

"And he...he really loves her", Jin says

"What?", I growl

"Well I saw him like last week waiting for someone. When I asked who, he said a girl he was seeing. We got to talking and he told me he loves her but she doesn't know.", Jin explains

Not happening

He can't have her

He can love her all he wants but he can't have her, can't touch her

"That's too fucking bad for him", I say, trying to stay calm

"Jungkook, it means that he will fight for her. His gang will back him. It's not just him we'd deal with. It's him plus seven other guys", Namjoon explains

"Since when have you been scared of a fight?", I mock

"I'm not. But after you went to prison we decided to be smarter about things. We don't want to go to prison. Or die for stupid reasons. So we back off from unnecessary fights. This is an unnecessary fight", Namjoon tells me

"It's not unnecessary. If his gang will back him why won't you back me?"

This is fucking ridiculous

I've been in this gang since it started

We always do everything together

"Because fighting over a girl is not what we do", Yoongi snaps, "You fucked that up, not us. You want her back, not us. She was a good friend but I'm not risking death because you want her back. It's not worth it"

"She is not our responsibility", Namjoon adds, "And honestly she shouldn't even be yours. You should let go of her. Obviously if she's with someone else, she's over you"

No, she's not over me

She loves me

She has to

"She loves me"

"She's terrified of you. That's why she had you locked up!", Yoongi shouts, "Stop being creepy and obsessive. Find another girl who actually loves you. Who wants to be with you. Not one who has a boyfriend and left you in a jail cell"

She's not scared of me

There's nothing to be scared of

I love her, I'll never hurt her like last time

I did mess up when I hit her but I'll never do it again

I won't hurt her unless she forces me to kill her

"I don't think you understand love you fucking idiot. I can't just find another girl. She's the one. I want her. Not some dumb bitch I can get off the street", I snarl

"Well you're doing it without my help", Yoongi snarls

"Fine", I growl

"Me too. I'm not getting involved. It has nothing to do with the gang's business", Namjoon answers

One by one they all say no

And I'm stunned

None of my closest friends want to help me

Why the fuck am I in this gang if they don't have my back?

I have theirs, always, ready to jump into anything for them

But now I see they're leaving me out to dry

Fuck them

"Assholes", I snap, standing up and heading to my room

I'll figure out what to do on my own

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

Half an hour later, there's a knock on my door

"Fuck off", I snap

The door opens anyway and I look up to yell at the person

Don't they know what fuck off is?

Jimin walks in, closes the door and sits next to me

"I'm in", he says

I raise my eyebrow, "What?"

"I'm going to help you get her back. Kill this San"

"You don't know him?"

Jimin shakes his head, "I know of him, not personally like some of the guys do. I don't care about him or what happens to him. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it"

I nod, glad that Jimin decided to help me

He has my back and I'll always have his

"So what did you want to do?", he asks

"Well I have this idea", I start

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

J POV

"Sannie", I moan in pleasure

God, San can make me feel so fucking good immediately

True to his word, San has been around me all week since I saw Jungkook

He's gotten to coming inside the salon when he picks me up

And if he has time, he'll come in and sit inside for however long I work for

I got him to dye his hair blue since he was there anyway

He's with me every night

Sex first then cuddles and sleep or cuddles and tv

To be honest I love sleeping in his arms

I feel the safest there

If he can't be at my job because he's working, either Yunho, Mingi or Hongjoong comes and stays with me

Hongjoong is a little crazy, unpredictable and has no problem getting into fights or killing someone

He's intense and makes me nervous sometimes

But San sends him because he knows Hongjoong will protect me the most

I haven't seen Jungkook since that day but I'm still nervous

I'm constantly looking around for him, scared that he'll just show up

It makes me so tense and jumpy all the time

San tried to take my mind off of everything by taking me to the club he and the guys frequent

But I can't relax

I'm worried Jungkook is going to show up and start something

I know that look in his eyes that he had when he glares at San

He's planning San's death

And while San isn't scared, I am

Scared to death

If anything happens to San, I'll be devastated

San saw how panicky I was and he offered to help me relax

That's how I ended up in the club bathroom, sitting on the edge of the counter, legs wide open and San on his knees, his tongue in my pussy

I hold my legs open for him, watching his tongue slowly running up between my pussy lips

"So fucking good", he moans

Damn right, fucking good

Meaning he's so good with his fucking tongue

His mouth takes my clit, sucking hard and fast

"Fuck", I moan, my cunt getting so wet, all over his face

His fingers slowly slide inside, pressing against my spot

Moaning loudly, I feel my legs shaking

His fingers work in time with his mouth, sliding in and out, making sure her rubs my spot every fucking time

Pleasure crashes over me, my orgasm so close

His next movements have me squirting, moaning his name loudly, clenching his perfect fingers as my body shakes

"Yes good girl", he praises, pulling his fingers out

I'm still squirting when his tongue slides inside my cunt as far as he can push it in

"SAN!", I gasp, watching him swallow my squirt

God he is so fucking hot

He fucks his tongue in and out of my hole, my muscles clenching and pulling on his tongue over and over

And he moans like he's being pleasured

I move my hips, meeting his tongue not being able to help myself

He's just so good with his tongue

His tongue slides in again, licking rapidly inside and I burst, orgasming on it

He makes sure to shove his tongue in as far as possible, letting me ride my orgasm out on it

My eyes are on him as he pulls his tongue out, completely covered in my creamy cum

He puts his tongue back on his mouth, swallowing my cum

Then his tongue goes right back inside me for more

"Best fucking cunt cream I ever had"

"Fuck Sannie", I moan

He's always telling me how good I taste, how I'm his favorite

It constantly makes me blush

When he finishes, he stands up undoing his belt

"My cock needs to be inside you"

I nod, "Come on baby"

His pants and boxers hit the floor and he steps closer to me, his arms moving under my knees

"I'll hold your legs open baby", he murmurs

Pushing my legs to my chest, his thick cock slides right inside, my cunt immediately throbbing around him

"Yes baby god, this cunt is so good for me"

Well his cock is perfect for me

He kisses my lips, then straightens up, starting to move

His thrusts start soft, gradually getting harder

Pleasure fills me again and I close my eyes, leaning head against the mirror behind me

The constant rubbing of his head against my spot as he bottoms out every time has my legs shaking uncontrollably

"Goddamn", he moans

Opening my eyes, I see him watching his cock moving in and out of me

From the position I'm in, I can see it too

Not as much as him but I can a bit

His cock moves out, completely covered in creamy juice

"Fucking love this creamy cunt so much. God your cream looks so fucking good soaking my cock. I fucking love it"

I'm glad he likes it, likes being with me

I pulse harder around him, watching the pleasure on his face

"Cunt is gonna cum soon", he breathes shakily as he increases his speed

He is so right

I'm gonna cum

Throbbing faster, he groans, urging me on

"Fuck give me your cream baby"

My breathing gets harder the closer I get

"Fall apart for me", he whispers

And I do

I close my eyes, losing it on his cock, spasming hard as I cum all over him, pleasure intense

"Yes baby, so fucking tight. God fucking damn. Feels so fucking good"

He pulls out, pulling me off the counter to my feet

Spinning me around, he bends me over the sink, his cock immediately back inside as if he never left

When he pulls back, I rock back against his cock, taking him back inside

"Let me fuck your cock baby", I tell him, looking at him on the mirror

"Go ahead baby", he smirks

That's all I need to hear

I clench him hard, making him whimper and hold him tightly as I move back and forth on him

San's cock is perfect.

So goddamn hard

So long

So fucking thick

Biggest dick I've ever taken

And he feels so good

Stretches me around him, keeps me hugging him tightly

We're a snug fit but it's perfect

He makes me so wet, it leaks all over my legs every time we have sex

His perfect head is always rubbing or hitting my spot without even trying

Throbbing on him feels amazing and he's perfect to cum on

I move, sliding up and down his shaft, feeling my cunt open around him over and over

Increasing my speed, I slam back, fucking my spot on his head

I widen my legs a little, moving as fast and hard as I can

"So pretty baby. You look perfect on my cock", he praises me, his hands running under my shirt, his cool hands against my hot sweaty skin

"Keep going baby. You're so close", he whispers

I am

I'm right there

Just a few more slams

Massive pleasure fills my body as my orgasm washes over me

My legs shake, buckling and I feel San wrap his arm around my waist, holding me up

"Don't fall baby", he smirks, "It's that good?"

I nod, not being able to coherently think

"Good baby. I just want to make you feel so good", he says

"Want to make you....feel good...too", I stammer

"You do baby. Always", he confirms, moving his hips, thrusting into me

The sound of his skin hitting my fills the room, his breathing getting harder

I feel his cock throbbing inside me and I fucking love it

"Please Sannie"

"What baby? What do you want? Wanna cum again?"

I shake my head, "I want your cum inside me"

I don't know what it is but lately I've been craving his cum inside

I just love the way his cock feels when he cums, love feeling it leak all over my thighs, love knowing that it's his cum filling me up

"That's what you want baby?"

I nod, "Please Sannie"

"Ok baby", he agrees

His thrusts get harder, more desperate

He groans my name loudly, keeping his cock in deep as he cums

His warm cum spills inside, making me feel so full

I love that feeling

"Yes San. Fuck, good baby", I praise him

He pulls out, and I close my legs, his cum leaking out just like I want

I lean over the sink, trying to catch my breath before I have to clean everything up

"Open your legs baby", San says softly, coming behind me

I guess he's ready for more

It's ok, I am too

I can never get enough of him

I widen my stance for him and I feel something cool on my legs

What?

I look down, surprised to see San cleaning his cum from me with a wet paper towel

"San, you don't-"

"It's fine baby. You're tired, I can do this. I made the mess"

I feel him kiss my back, as he now wipes me up with a dry paper towel

I know it's just him cleaning up his cum but he's so sweet

No guy I've ever been with has done this before

"Lift up your foot baby"

Looking down, I lift it up and he slips my panties on that leg

Then he does it for the other and pulls the panties all the way up

He looks at me softly through the mirror and my heart skips a beat

I've noticed feelings for San has developed and every day I see him, they intensify

I just wish I wasn't terrified of being in a relationship

San moves my hair to the side, bending down and kissing my neck softly

"Ready baby?"

I nod, feeling his hand in mine and he leads me out of the bathroom

We get back to the area where the guys are sitting and sit on one of the couches

San puts his arm around me and I lean against him, taking his other hand in mine and lacing our fingers together

He smiles, lifting our hands and kiss the back of mine

Again my heart beats faster as I feel his lips on my skin

As I look at his beautiful face

He leans down, his lips brushing against mine

God, his kisses are amazing and I can never get enough of them

"Are you guys done?", Yeosang asks

We pull away, my cheeks heated

"Shut it Yeosang. Don't watch", San snaps

"Well stop making out in front of us"

"A kiss is making out? Grow up", San rolls his eyes

"We're in the middle of a conversation", Yeosang argues

"Which I'm not a part of", San growls

My cue to leave

I move to get up, San's attention immediately on me

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna get a drink. You want something?", I ask

"I'll get it"

"Oh god stop San. She's going to the bar. You can see her from here", Yeosang rolls his eyes

"Shut the fu-"

"Sannie it's ok", I say, squeezing his hand, "I'm just going across the club. I can get the drinks. I'll come right back ok?"

He hesitates, nervously looking around

"Ok?", I repeat

He slowly nods, "Ok. I don't want anything but get whatever you want and put it on my tab"

"San-"

"Just do it baby"

I nod, giving in

He lets go of my hand and I stand making my way to the bar, leaving Yeosang complaining more

I don't think Yeosang likes me very much

Maybe I can change his mind the more I hang out with them

I get to the bar asking the bartender for a mojito

I stand off to the side to wait for my drink, watching the people on the dance floor

Some people go all out, like they're having sex on the dance floor

Crazy

I feel a hand on my arm and I turn smiling

San can't stay away for too long

I turn to him, my heart dropping at seeing Jungkook

Oh god no

His hand grips my upper arm hard, slight pain flaring

"Let's go baby", he murmurs

"Jungkook, I-"

"Now", he growls, pulling me after him

I try to resist but he shoots me a vicious glare, his grip tightening so much and I stop fighting, following him

I'm panicking, my body shaking, wanting San

I should of let him get the drinks and stayed with the guys

Or I should of asked him to come with me

I stupidly thought Jungkook wouldn't be at the club

I should of known better

I should of known he's always watching, following me, he'll always find me

I let my guard down and I can't do that with him

He drags me out of the club towards the back alley

"Jungkook stop", I protest, pulling on my arm to get it out of his death grip

He's holding on extremely hard and it hurts a lot

He ignores me, continuing to drag me

"Kookie", I say softly, knowing he loves when I call him that

I need to use anything to get him to stop

He stops walking, turning to me, letting go of my arm but sliding his hand down to my wrist holding me there

"Kookie let go", I ask but he shakes his head

"No. You can't be with him", he says, "I love you."

I don't know what to say

I don't love him and I can't tell him that

"Jungkook-"

His eyes blaze in anger, "What were you doing in the bathroom with him?"

Yeah I'm not going there

I can see him getting agitated and anything I saw will make him blow up

"Were you fucking him?", he shouts, "Sucking his cock like a whore? Letting him inside you? Where I belong?"

I wince at his possessiveness

He will never leave me alone

I shouldn't have let San convince me to stay away from Jungkook

Jungkook will hurt him and I can't have that

I want San to be safe

Jungkook's hands grab my upper arms and shakes me, "You're fucking mine! Not his. You'll never be his. You're mine"

"Get the fuck off of her", I hear behind me

San moves next to me and when I look at him, I see he's holding a bat

Where the fuck did he get that?

I feel other people behind me and glance back

The guys are with him

"I said get the fuck off her. She's mine", San says dangerously

Oh shit

This isn't what I wanted

A fight where they'll get hurt

Jungkook glares hatefully at San and I breathe in waiting for shit to go down

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

San POV

"What the fuck is your problem?", I snarl at Yeosang, watching her walk to the bar

"You're fucking making out with her in front of us while we're talking", he snaps

"Get the fuck over it! I'm not making out with her. I gave her one kiss"

"You took her to the bathroom to fuck her", he accuses

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Who cares what I do with her?

It's not like I left them at the club

"What I did with her is none of your business"

"God you're such a push over for her. Like a little lost puppy following her everywhere"

My eyes snap to his, rage boiling in my blood

"There's a reason why I'm watching her you fuck. You know why."

"Yeah her ex. Who I don't think is real by the way."

Is he being serious?

Does he think I'm making this up?

What would be the point of that?

"Don't be stupid. I saw him. I talked to him"

"Yeah well you're sending us to be around her and Yunho, Joong and Mingi haven't seen shit when they're around her. No guy. Nothing"

I'm gonna hit him

He's really pissing me off

"That doesn't mean he doesn't exist", Hongjoong points out

"What is your problem with her?", I spit

He looks right at me, "I don't like her"

I stand up immediately, ready to hit him

"She never did anything to you", I grit out

"She changed you. To be a sap. When you were just fucking her, you were fine. Now you're spending all your time with her, withdrawing from the gang business. For a girl. You're weak and pathetic"

Yeah he's getting his ass beat

Just because I'm with her more doesn't mean I'm not involved in the gang

Doesn't mean I'm weak

"I love her you fucking piece of shit", I snarl

I hear gasps from the other guys

"You...love her?", Seonghwa asks

"Yes. I fell in love with her. And I will keep her safe from her psycho ex."

I look back at Yeosang's shocked face, "You don't have to do anything for her. You can just go fuck off. It's good to know you don't have my back. So you can fuck yourself and don't expect me to help you with anything"

Yeosang is about to say something when Yunho says, "Uh San. I don't see her at the bar"

My head immediately snaps up, my gaze scanning the bar

She not there

Panic immediately fills my body

Where is she?

Why isn't she there?

I scan the club, my heart dropping when I spot her

Being dragged away by Jungkook

"Fucking hell, he's here", I growl, starting to go after them

"We're coming with you", Hongjoong says, all of them standing up

"Not him", nod towards Yeosang, "I don't want him to come. He stays here"

I turn back around hurriedly pushing through people

I have to get to her before he hurts her

We get out of the club and I look around for them

"I don't see her", I panic

The guys spread out, looking for her

"Here", Hongjoong says, handing me a bat

Where the fuck did this come from?

He looks at me, shrugging, "My bike is right there and I always have a bat. Just in case"

I just nod because it's not important

She is

"Down here", Jongho calls, pointing down an alley

I run to the alley, seeing them at the end of it

He's facing her, shaking her body, yelling in her face, screaming about how she fucked me, how she's a whore, how she's his, I can't have her

Fuck him

I walk down the alley, heading straight towards them

When I get behind her, I glare at him

"Get the fuck off of her", I snarl, anger boiling over

How dare he fucking shake her let alone touch her

I'm ready to smash this bat into his fucking skull

Jungkook doesn't move and I'm trying to keep calm in front of her.

It's not working

"I said get the fuck off her", I repeat, "She's mine"

He glares hatefully at me

Like I care

"She's not yours. She'll never be yours. She'll always be mine", he snaps

Is he fucking kidding?

"Wrong bitch. She chose me. She's with me. Back the fuck off or I'll smash your face in", I threaten, pulling her gently towards me

She gapes at me, as he lets go of her

I get it that I'm being violent but I'll do anything to protect her

"Naekkeo, go with Yunho", I say, not taking my eyes off of Jungkook

His eyes narrow at the nickname

I chose it specifically to get my point across

So he knows she's mine

"Sannie, don't"

I need her to leave

I don't want her to see if anything happens

I want her far and safe in my apartment

"It's ok Naekkeo. Please, go with Yunho"

She looks scared but she nods, "Ok"

"Yunho", I call

He comes up beside me and I whisper in his ear, "My apartment"

"Got it", he acknowledges, then to her says, "C'mon Jo"

I see her turn and leave out of my peripheral vision

I know Yunho will protect her

"You have one choice. Leave her alone", I say to Jungkook

"Not happening. She's the love of my life"

"You're not hers. She doesn't want you. You terrify her."

"I love her"

I snort, "Really? Hitting her is loving her? Breaking ribs is loving her? Manipulating and isolating her, kidnapping her is loving her? Fuck you. You don't love her. You're fucking obsessed"

Anger is vibrating off him but I'm pissed off too

And scared for her

Where was he taking her?

What was he going to do with her?

Was he going to hit her?

Just thinking about this makes my fingers twitch around the bat

"I will be with her. We're meant for each other. She's mine. Always", he growls

He's delusional

And dangerous

But I'm dangerous too

"Get it through your psycho head. You will never be with her again. Not as long as she keeps choosing me. I will kill you if you hurt her, if you fucking touch her. I don't give a fuck about your life. I'll end it easily."

"You don't know who you're dealing with", he angrily warns

I scoff, "You don't know who the fuck you're dealing with. I am not scared of you. At all. Do not fuck with me"

"You'll be sorry, you mother fucker", he snarls

"No bitch, you'll be sorry. Now fuck off before I smash this bat into your fucking brain."

He doesn't move, glaring at me

"Last warning. Leave her the fuck alone.", I warn him

I will kill him, no hesitation

Right now if he tries anything

"Leave. Now"

He glances at the guys behind me, then backs away, not turning his back to us

Smart man

Once he clears the alley, he turns, disappearing into the night

I immediately turn around, hand the bat to Hongjoong and start walking to my car

I see Yeosang in the back of the guys and I just glare at him as I pass him

Now he knows

Jungkook exists and he's a danger to her

Now he can shut the fuck up and eat his words

I leave the guys there, my mind only on her

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

I hurriedly unlock my door, throwing it open

"Joanne?", I call

I hear footsteps and she appears at the end of the hallway

"Sannie", she calls, running to me

I catch her in my arms, lifting her up, hugging her tightly, so happy she's in my arms

That she's safe

She hugs me tightly too, her face in my neck, "I was so scared something happened to you"

"No naekkeo. Nothing happened. I'm ok"

Yunho comes into the hall, walking down

We nod wordlessly at each other and he walks around us

"Bye Jo"

"Bye Yunnie. Thanks"

He closes the door after himself and I immediately turn to lock it

I wouldn't put it past Jungkook to follow me home

Carrying her to my room, I put her on my bed

Walking to my dresser, I pull out PJs for her, then for me

We've started keeping clothes at each other's apartment since we're together every night

We exchanged keys too

Normally we sleep naked because we always have sex first but I don't think that's what she needs right now

It's not what I need either

Tonight scared me and I need to feel her in my arms, need to touch her, making sure she's really here

Handing her the PJs, we both start changing

Without speaking, we both get into the bed and she automatically moves closer to me

I pull her against me, wrapping my arms around her, kissing her forehead

"What happened Sannie?"

"Nothing baby. I just told him to fuck off and leave you alone. I told him I'm not scared of him and I'll fuck him up if I have to"

"Did you use the bat?"

Shaking my head, I answer, "No baby. It was just to scared him for now"

She's quiet for a minute then asks, "If you had to would you have used it?"

I'm not going to lie to her

I never have and I won't start now

"Yeah. I would. I would of beat the shit out of him. I'd kill him if I have to", I answer

"Oh", she says

"Does that bother you?", I ask worried I fucked this up

"I...I don't want you to hurt anyone but I understand if you have to defend yourself. I don't want you to be hurt either. I'd rather he be hurt than you", she answers

I nod, running my fingers in her hair, "I'll only hurt him if he starts it ok? But once he comes at me, I'm going to stop him no matter how. And if he hurts you, it's over for him"

I want her to know that I'll be careful and I won't start fights with him

But the second he hurts her or comes for me, he's dead

She has to know this

"Ok Sannie"

"Ok baby", I agree

After a few minutes of silence, I think she's fallen asleep when I hear, "Sannie the name you called me to Jungkook"

I wince

She didn't like it

She's going to tell me not to call her that again

It hurts but really she's not mine

This whole relationship boyfriend girlfriend thing is just to protect her

It's a sham no matter how much I want it to be real

"I just said it to get my point across to Jungkook", I tell her

"Oh", she says, sounding disappointed

A little hope comes back at the tone

Maybe she doesn't like it?

Oh fuck it, I'll ask her

"Do you want me to call-"

"Yes", she interrupts, making me smile, "If you want"

"I you want", I assure her

"I want to. I like it a lot", she confesses

"Ok naekkeo"

She moves back, looking up at me with a huge stunning smile on her face

She kisses me deeply and I fall into her kiss

God I can just get lost in her kiss, in her for hours

After, she snuggles back up to me, her eyes closing

"Thanks for protecting me Sannie"

"Always naekkeo", I whisper, "Always"

@seokwoosmole

@mingtina

@jijipiko

@urvashi435